The other Cyclopes bellowed in approval. The rest of the monsters joined in.
Hazel’s whole body tingled. She glanced at her friends. “Jason,” she whispered. “She fought Jason. He might still be alive.”
Frank nodded. “Do those other names mean anything to you?”
Hazel shook her head. She didn’t know any Leo or Piper at camp. Percy still looked sickly and dazed. If the names meant anything to him, he didn’t show it.
Hazel pondered what the Cyclops had said: Orange and purple ones. Purple—obviously the color of Camp Jupiter. But orange…Percy had shown up in a tattered orange shirt. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Below them, the army began to march south again, but the giant Polybotes stood to one side, frowning and sniffing the air.
“Sea god,” he muttered. To Hazel’s horror, he turned in their direction. “I smell sea god.”
Percy was shaking. Hazel put her hand on his shoulder and tried to press him flat against the rock.
The lady Cyclops Ma Gasket snarled. “Of course you smell sea god! The sea is right over there!”
“More than that,” Polybotes insisted. “I was born to destroy Neptune. I can sense…” He frowned, turning his head and shaking out a few more snakes.
“Do we march or sniff the air?” Ma Gasket scolded. “I don’t get Ding Dongs, you don’t get sea god!”
Polybotes growled. “Very well. March! March!” He took one last look at the rainbow-encased store, then raked his fingers through his hair. He brought out three snakes that seemed larger than the rest, with white markings around their necks. “A gift, goddess! My name, Polybotes, means ‘Many-to-Feed!’ Here are some hungry mouths for you. See if your store gets many customers with these sentries outside.”
He laughed wickedly and threw the snakes into the tall grass on the hillside.
Then he marched south, his massive Komodo legs shaking the earth. Gradually, the last column of monsters passed over the hills and disappeared into the night.
Once they were gone, the blinding rainbow shut off like a spotlight.
Hazel, Frank, and Percy were left alone in the dark, staring across the road at a closed-up convenience store.
“That was different,” Frank muttered.
Percy shuddered violently. Hazel knew he needed help, or rest, or something. Seeing that army seemed to have triggered some kind of memory, leaving him shell-shocked. They should get him back to the boat.
On the other hand, a huge stretch of grassland lay between them and the beach. Hazel got the feeling the karpoi wouldn’t stay away forever. She didn’t like the idea of the three of them making their way back to the boat in the middle of the night. And she couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling that if she hadn’t summoned that schist, she’d be a captive of the giant right now.
“Let’s go to the store,” she said. “If there’s a goddess inside, maybe she can help us.”
“Except a bunch of snake things are guarding the hill now,” Frank said. “And that burning rainbow might comeback.”
They both looked at Percy, who was shaking like he had hypothermia.
“We’ve got to try,” Hazel said.
Frank nodded grimly. “Well…any goddess who throws a Ding Dong at a giant can’t be all bad. Let’s go.”
FRANK HATED DING DONGS. He hated snakes. And he hated his life. Not necessarily in that order.
As he trudged up the hill, he wished that he could pass out like Hazel—just go into a trance and experience some other time, like before he got drafted for this insane quest, before he found out his dad was a godly drill sergeant with an ego problem.
His bow and spear slapped against his back. He hated the spear, too. The moment he got it, he silently swore he’d never use it. A real man’s weapon—Mars was a moron.
Maybe there had been a mix-up. Wasn’t there some sort of DNA test for gods’ kids? Perhaps the godly nursery had accidentally switched Frank with one of Mars’s buff little bully babies. No way would Frank’s mother have gotten involved with that blustering war god.
She was a natural warrior, Grandmother’s voice argued.
It is no surprise a god would fall in love with her, given our family. Ancient blood. The blood of princes and heroes.
Frank shook the thought out of his head. He was no prince or hero. He was a lactose-intolerant klutz, who couldn’t even protect his friend from getting kidnapped by wheat.
His new medals felt cold against his chest: the centurion’s crescent, the Mural Crown. He should’ve been proud of them, but he felt like he’d only gotten them because his dad had bullied Reyna.
Frank didn’t know how his friends could stand to be around him. Percy had made it clear that he hated Mars, and Frank couldn’t blame him. Hazel kept watching Frank out of the corner of her eye, like she was afraid he might turn into a muscle-bound freak.