Percy and Reyna occupied matching praetors’ chairs on the dais, which made Percy self-conscious. It wasn’t easy looking dignified wearing a bed sheet and a purple cape.
“The camp is safe,” Octavian continued. “I’ll be the first to congratulate our heroes for bringing back the legion’s eagle and so much Imperial gold! Truly we have been blessed with good fortune. But why do more? Why tempt fate?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Percy stood, taking the question as an opening.
Octavian stammered, “I wasn’t—”
“—part of the quest,” Percy said. “Yes, I know. And you’re wise to let me explain, since I was.”
Some of the senators snickered. Octavian had no choice but to sit down and try not to look embarrassed.
“Gaea is waking,” Percy said. “We’ve defeated two of her giants, but that’s only the beginning. The real war will take place in the old land of the gods. The quest will take us to Rome, and eventually to Greece.”
An uneasy ripple spread through the senate.
“I know, I know,” Percy said. “You’ve always thought of the Greeks as your enemies. And there’s a good reason for that. I think the gods have kept our two camps apart because whenever we meet, we fight. But that can change. It has to change if we’re to defeat Gaea. That’s what the Prophecy of Seven means. Seven demigods, Greek and Roman, will have to close the Doors of Death together.”
“Ha!” shouted a Lar from the back row. “The last time a praetor tried to interpret the Prophecy of Seven, it was Michael Varus, who lost our eagle in Alaska! Why should we believe you now?”
Octavian smiled smugly. Some of his allies in the senate began nodding and grumbling. Even some of the veterans looked uncertain.
“I carried Juno across the Tiber,” Percy reminded them, speaking as firmly as he could. “She told me that the Prophecy of Seven is coming to pass. Mars also appeared to you in person. Do you think two of your most important gods would appear at camp if the situation wasn’t serious?”
“He’s right,” Gwen said from the second row. “I, for one, trust Percy’s word. Greek or not, he restored the honor of the legion. You saw him on the battlefield last night. Would anyone here say he is not a true hero of Rome?”
Nobody argued. A few nodded in agreement.
Reyna stood. Percy watched her anxiously. Her opinion could change everything—for better or worse.
“You claim this is a combined quest,” she said. “You claim Juno intends for us to work with this—this other group, Camp
Half-Blood. Yet the Greeks have been our enemies for eons.
They are known for their deceptions.”
“Maybe so,” Percy said. “But enemies can become friends. A week ago, would you have thought Romans and Amazons would be fighting side by side?”
Queen Hylla laughed. “He’s got a point.”
“The demigods of Camp Half-Blood have already been working with Camp Jupiter,” Percy said. “We just didn’t realize it. During the Titan War last summer, while you were attacking Mount Othrys, we were defending Mount Olympus in Manhattan. I fought Kronos myself.”
Reyna backed up, almost tripping over her toga. “You… what?”
“I know it’s hard to believe,” Percy said. “But I think I’ve earned your trust. I’m on your side. Hazel and Frank—I’m sure they’re meant to go with me on this quest. The other four are on their way from Camp Half-Blood right now. One of them is Jason Grace, your old praetor.”
“Oh, come on!” Octavian shouted. “He’s making things up, now.”
Reyna frowned. “It is a lot to believe. Jason is coming back with a bunch of Greek demigods? You say they’re going to appear in the sky in a heavily armed warship, but we shouldn’t be worried.”
“Yes.” Percy looked over the rows of nervous, doubtful spectators. “Just let them land. Hear them out. Jason will backup everything I’m telling you. I swear it on my life.”
“On your life?” Octavian looked meaningfully at the senate. “We will remember that, if this turns out to be a trick.”
Right on cue, a messenger rushed into the Senate House, gasping as if he’d run all the way from camp. “Praetors! I’m sorry to interrupt, but our scouts report—”
“Ship!” Tyson said happily, pointing at the hole in the ceiling. “Yay!
Sure enough, a Greek warship appeared out of the clouds, about a half a mile away, descending toward the Senate House. As it got closer, Percy could see bronze shields glinting along the sides, billowing sails, and a familiar-looking figurehead shaped like a metal dragon. On the tallest mast, a big white flag of truce snapped in the wind.
The Argo II. It was the most incredible ship he’d ever seen.
“Praetors!” the messenger cried. “What are your orders?”
Octavian shot to his feet. “You need to ask?” His face was red with rage. He was strangling his teddy bear. “The omens are horrible! This is a trick, a deception. Beware Greeks bearing gifts!”