The Son of Neptune

The T-shirt didn’t answer, thankfully.

 

One of their roommates, Bobby, gave them a ride to the border of the valley on Hannibal the elephant. From the hilltops, Percy could see everything below. The Little Tiber snaked across golden pastures where the unicorns were grazing. The temples and forums of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. On the Field of Mars, engineers were hard at work, pulling down the remains of last night’s fort and setting up barricades for a game of death ball. A normal day for Camp Jupiter—but on the northern horizon, storm clouds were gathering. Shadows moved across the hills, and Percy imagined the face of Gaea getting closer and closer.

 

Work with me for the future, Reyna had said. I intend to save this camp.

 

Looking down at the valley, Percy understood why she cared so much. Even though he was new to Camp Jupiter, he felt a fierce desire to protect this place. A safe haven where demigods could build their lives—he wanted that to be part of his future. Maybe not the way Reyna imagined, but if he could share this place with Annabeth…

 

They got off the elephant. Bobby wished them a safe journey. Hannibal wrapped the three questers with his trunk. Then the elephant taxi service headed back into the valley.

 

Percy sighed. He turned to Hazel and Frank and tried to think of something upbeat to say.

 

A familiar voice said, “IDs, please.”

 

A statue of Terminus appeared at the summit of the hill. The god’s marble face frowned irritably. “Well? Come along!”

 

“You again?” Percy asked. “I thought you just guarded the city.”

 

Terminus huffed. “Glad to see you, too, Mr. Rule Flouter. Normally, yes, I guard the city, but for international departures, I like to provide extra security at the camp borders. You really should’ve allowed two hours before your planned departure time, you know. But we’ll have to make do. Now, come over here so I can pat you down.”

 

“But you don’t have—” Percy stopped himself. “Uh, sure.”

 

He stood next to the armless statue. Terminus conducted a rigorous mental pat down.

 

“You seem to be clean,” Terminus decided. “Do you have anything to declare?”

 

“Yes,” Percy said. “I declare this is stupid.”

 

“Hmph! Probatio tablet: Percy Jackson, Fifth Cohort, son of Neptune. Fine, go. Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. Fine. Any foreign currency or, ahem, precious metals to declare?”

 

“No,” she muttered.

 

“Are you sure?” Terminus asked. “Because last time—”

 

“No!”

 

“Well, this is a grumpy bunch,” said the god. “Quest travelers! Always in a rush. Now, let’s see—Frank Zhang. Ah! Centurion? Well done, Frank. And that haircut is regulation perfect. I approve! Off you go, then, Centurion Zhang. Do you need any directions today?”

 

“No. No, I guess not.”

 

“Just down to the BART station,” Terminus said anyway. “Change trains at Twelfth Street in Oakland. You want Fruitvale Station. From there, you can walk or take the bus to Alameda.”

 

“You guys don’t have a magical BART train or some thing?” Percy asked.

 

“Magic trains!” Terminus scoffed. “You’ll be wanting your own security lane and a pass to the executive lounge next. Just travel safely, and watch out for Polybotes. Talk about scofflaws—bah! I wish I could throttle him with my bare hands.”

 

“Wait—who?” Percy asked.

 

Terminus made a straining expression, like he was flexing his nonexistent biceps. “Ah, well. Just be careful of him. I imagine he can smell a son of Neptune a mile away. Out you go, now. Good luck!”

 

An invisible force kicked them across the boundary. When Percy looked back, Terminus was gone. In fact, the entire valley was gone. The Berkeley Hills seemed to be free of any Roman camp.

 

Percy looked at his friends. “Any idea what Terminus was talking about? Watch out for…Political something or other?”

 

“Poh-LIB-uh-tease?” Hazel sounded out the name carefully. “Never heard of him.”

 

“Sounds Greek,” Frank said.

 

“That narrows it down.” Percy sighed. “Well, we probably just appeared on the smell radar for every monster within five miles. We’d better get moving.”

 

It took them two hours to reach the docks in Alameda. Compared to Percy’s last few months, the trip was easy. No monsters attacked. Nobody looked at Percy like he was a homeless wild child.

 

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