Mars stared down at her, his grip tightening on his M16. “That’s right, Hazel Levesque. You know what I mean. Everyone here remembers the land where the legion lost its honor! Perhaps if the quest succeeds, and you return by the Feast of Fortuna…perhaps then your honor will be restored. If you don’t succeed, there won’t be any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy lost forever. So my advice is: Don’t fail.”
Octavian somehow managed to bow even lower. “Um, Lord Mars, just one tiny thing. A quest requires a prophecy, a mystical poem to guide us! We used to get them from the Sibylline books, but now it’s up to the augur to glean the will of gods. So if I could just run and get about seventy stuffed animals and possibly a knife—”
“You’re the augur?” the god interrupted.
“Y-yes, my lord.”
Mars pulled a scroll from his utility belt. “Anyone got a pen?”
The legionnaires stared at him.
Mars sighed. “Two hundred Romans, and no one’s got a pen? Never mind!”
He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write.
Frank looked at Percy with wide eyes. He mouthed: Can your sword do grenade form?
Percy mouthed back, No. Shut up.
“There!” Mars finished writing and threw the scroll at Octavian. “A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it on your floor, whatever.”
Octavian read the scroll. “This says, ‘Go to Alaska. Find Thanatos and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die.’”
“Yes,” Mars said. “Is that not clear?”
“Well, my lord…usually prophecies are unclear. They’re wrapped in riddles. They rhyme, and…”
Mars casually popped another grenade off his belt. “Yes?”
“The prophecy is clear!” Octavian announced. “A quest!”
“Good answer.” Mars tapped the grenade to his chin. “Now, what else? There was something else.…Oh, yes.”
He turned to Frank. “C’mere, kid.”
No, Frank thought. The burned stick in his coat pocket felt heavier. His legs turned wobbly. A sense of dread settled over him, worse than the day the military officer had come to the door.
He knew what was coming, but he couldn’t stop it. He stepped forward against his will.
Mars grinned. “Nice job taking the wall, kid. Who’s the ref for this game?”
Reyna raised her hand.
“You see that play, ref?” Mars demanded. “That was my kid. First over the wall, won the game for his team. Unless you’re blind, that was an MVP play. You’re not blind, are you?”
Reyna looked like she was trying to swallow a mouse. “No, Lord Mars.”
“Then make sure he gets the Mural Crown,” Mars demanded. “My kid, here!” he yelled at the legion, in case anyone hadn’t heard. Frank wanted to melt into the dirt.
“Emily Zhang’s son,” Mars continued. “She was a good soldier. Good woman. This kid Frank proved his stuff tonight. Happy late birthday, kid. Time you stepped up to a real man’s weapon.”
He tossed Frank his M16. For a split second Frank though the’d be crushed under the weight of the massive assault rifle, but the gun changed in midair, becoming smaller and thinner. When Frank caught it, the weapon was a spear. It had a shaft of Imperial gold and a strange point like a white bone, flickering with ghostly light.
“The tip is a dragon’s tooth,” Mars said. “You haven’t learned to use your mom’s talents yet, have you? Well—that spear will give you some breathing room until you do. You get three charges out of it, so use it wisely.”
Frank didn’t understand, but Mars acted like the matter was closed. “Now, my kid Frank Zhang is gonna lead the quest to free Thanatos, unless there are any objections?”
Of course, no one said a word. But many of the campers glared at Frank with envy, jealousy, anger, bitterness.
“You can take two companions,” Mars said. “Those are the rules. One of them needs to be this kid.”
He pointed at Percy. “He’s gonna learn some respect for Mars on this trip, or die trying. As for the second, I don’t care. Pick whomever you want. Have one of your senate debates. You all are good at those.”
The god’s image flickered. Lightning crackled across the sky.
“That’s my cue,” Mars said. “Until next time, Romans. Do not disappoint me!”
The god erupted in flames, and then he was gone.
Reyna turned toward Frank. Her expression was part amazement, part nausea, like she’d finally managed to swallow that mouse. She raised her arm in a Roman salute. “Ave, Frank Zhang, son of Mars.”
The whole legion followed her lead, but Frank didn’t want their attention anymore. His perfect night had been ruined.
Mars was his father. The god of war was sending him to Alaska. Frank had been handed more than a spear for his birthday. He’d been handed a death sentence.
PERCY SLEPT LIKE A MEDUSA VICTIM—which is to say, like a rock.
He hadn’t crashed in a safe, comfortable bed since…well, he couldn’t even remember. Despite his insane day and the million thoughts running through his head, his body took over and said: You will sleep now.
He had dreams, of course. He always had dreams, but they passed like blurred images from the window of a train. He saw a curly-haired faun in ragged clothes running to catch up with him.