The Son of Neptune

“I know, I know,” Gwen said. “But maybe this time we’ll have some luck!”

 

 

Leave it to Gwen to be the optimist. Everybody liked her because she took care of her people and tried to keep their spirits up. She could even control Dakota during his hyperactive bug-juice fits. Still, the campers grumbled and complained. Nobody believed in luck for the Fifth.

 

“First line with Dakota,” Gwen said. “Lock shields and advance in turtle formation to the main gates. Try to stay in one piece. Draw their fire. Second line—” Gwen turned to Frank’s row without much enthusiasm. “You seventeen, from Bobby over, take charge of the elephant and the scaling ladders. Try a flanking attack on the western wall. Maybe we can spread the defenders too thin. Frank, Hazel, Percy…well, just do whatever. Show Percy the ropes. Try to keep him alive.” She turned back to the whole cohort. “If anybody gets over the wall first, I’ll make sure you get the Mural Crown. Victory for the Fifth!”

 

The cohort cheered half heartedly and broke ranks.

 

Percy frowned. “‘Do whatever?’”

 

“Yeah,” Hazel sighed. “Big vote of confidence.”

 

“What’s the Mural Crown?” he asked.

 

“Military medal,” Frank said. He’d been forced to memorize all the possible awards. “Big honor for the first soldier to breach an enemy fort. You’ll notice nobody in the Fifth is wearing one. Usually we don’t even get into the fort because we’re burning or drowning or…”

 

He faltered, and looked at Percy. “Water cannons.”

 

“What?” Percy asked.

 

“The cannons on the walls,” Frank said, “they draw water from the aqueduct. There’s a pump system—heck, I don’t know how they work, but they’re under a lot of pressure. If you could control them, like you controlled the river—”

 

“Frank!” Hazel beamed. “That’s brilliant!”

 

Percy didn’t look so sure. “I don’t know how I did that at the river. I’m not sure I can control the cannons from this far away.”

 

“We’ll get you closer.” Frank pointed to the eastern wall of the fort, where the Fifth Cohort wouldn’t be attacking. “That’s where the defense will be weakest. They’ll never take three kids seriously. I think we can sneak up pretty close before they see us.”

 

“Sneak up how?” Percy asked.

 

Frank turned to Hazel. “Can you do that thing again?”

 

She punched him in the chest. “You said you wouldn’t tell anybody!”

 

Immediately Frank felt terrible. He’d gotten so caught up in the idea...

 

Hazel muttered under her breath. “Never mind. It’s fine.

 

Percy, he’s talking about the trenches. The Field of Mars is riddled with tunnels from over the years. Some are collapsed, or buried deep, but a lot of them are still passable. I’m pretty good at finding them and using them. I can even collapse them if I have to.”

 

“Like you did with the gorgons,” Percy said, “to slow them down.”

 

Frank nodded approvingly. “I told you Pluto was cool. He’s the god of everything under the earth. Hazel can find caves, tunnels, trapdoors—”

 

“And it was our secret,” she grumbled.

 

Frank felt himself blushing. “Yeah, sorry. But if we can get close—”

 

“And if I can knock out the water cannons…” Percy nodded, like he was warming to the idea. “What do we do then?”

 

Frank checked his quiver. He always stocked up on special arrows. He’d never gotten to use them before, but maybe tonight was the night. Maybe he could finally do something good enough to get Apollo’s attention.

 

“The rest is up to me,” he said. “Let’s go.”

 

 

 

 

 

FRANK HAD NEVER FELT SO SURE of anything, which made him nervous. Nothing he planned ever went right. He always managed to break, ruin, burn, sit on, or knock over something important. Yet he knew this strategy would work.

 

Hazel found them a tunnel with no problem. In fact, Frank had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t just find tunnels. It was as though tunnels manufactured themselves to suit her needs. Passages that had been filled in years ago suddenly unfilled, changing direction to lead Hazel where she wanted to go. They crept along by the light of Percy’s glowing sword,

 

Riptide. Above, they heard the sounds of battle—kids shout ing, Hannibal the elephant bellowing with glee, scorpion bolts exploding, and water cannons firing. The tunnel shook. Dirt rained down on them.

 

Frank slipped his hand inside his armor. The piece of wood was still safe and secure in his coat pocket, though one good shot from a scorpion might set his lifeline on fire.…

 

Bad Frank, he chided himself. Fire is the “F-word.” Don’t think about it.

 

“There’s an opening just ahead,” Hazel announced. “We’ll come up ten feet from the east wall.”

 

“How can you tell?” Percy asked.

 

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m sure.”

 

“Could we tunnel straight under the wall?” Frank wondered.

 

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