The Son of Neptune - Chapter 13

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.
‘I don’t have any spare change,’ Percy called.
‘What?’ the faun said. ‘No, Percy. It’s me, Grover! Stay
put! We’re on our way to find you. Tyson is close – at least
we think he’s the closest. We’re trying to get a lock on your
position.’
‘What?’ Percy called, but the faun disappeared in the
fog.
Then Annabeth was running along beside him,
reaching out her hand. ‘Thank the gods!’ she called. ‘For
months and months we couldn’t see you! Are you all
right?’
Percy remembered what Juno had said – for months he
has been slumbering, but now he is awake. The goddess
had intentionally kept him hidden, but why?
‘Are you real?’ he asked Annabeth.
He wanted so much to believe it that he felt like
Hannibal the elephant was standing on his chest. But her
face began to dissolve. She cried, ‘Stay put! It’ll be easier
for Tyson to find you! Stay where you are!’
Then she was gone. The images accelerated. He saw a
huge ship in a dry dock, workers scrambling to finish the
hull, a guy with a blowtorch welding a bronze dragon
figurehead to the prow. He saw the war god stalking
towards him in the surf, a sword in his hands.
The scene shifted. Percy stood on the Field of Mars,
looking up at the Berkeley Hills. Golden grass rippled,
and a face appeared in the landscape – a sleeping
woman, her features formed from shadows and folds in
the terrain. Her eyes remained closed, but her voice
spoke in Percy’s mind:
So this is the demigod who destroyed my son Kronos.
You don’t look like much, Percy Jackson, but you’re
valuable to me. Come north. Meet Alcyoneus. Juno can
play her little games with Greeks and Romans, but in the
end, you will be my pawn. You will be the key to the gods’
defeat.
Percy’s vision turned dark. He stood in a theatre-sized
version of the camp’s headquarters – a principia with walls
of ice and freezing mist hanging in the air. The floor was
littered with skeletons in Roman armour and Imperial gold
weapons encrusted with frost. In the back of the room sat
an enormous shadowy figure. His skin glinted with gold
and silver, as if he were an automaton like Reyna’s dogs.
Behind him stood a collection of ruined emblems, tattered
banners and a large golden eagle on a staff of iron.
The giant’s voice boomed in the vast chamber. ‘This will
be fun, son of Neptune. It’s been aeons since I broke a
demigod of your calibre. I await you atop the ice.’
Percy woke, shivering. For a moment he didn’t know
where he was. Then he remembered: Camp Jupiter, the
Fifth Cohort barracks. He lay in his bunk, staring at the
ceiling and trying to control his racing heartbeat.
A golden giant was waiting to break him. Wonderful. But
what unnerved him more was that sleeping woman’s face
in the hills. You will be my pawn. Percy didn’t play chess,
but he was pretty sure that being a pawn was bad. They
died a lot.
Even the friendlier parts of his dream were disturbing. A
faun named Grover was looking for him. Maybe that’s why
Don had detected a – what had he called it? – an
empathy link. Somebody named Tyson was searching for
him, too, and Annabeth had warned Percy to stay where
he was.
He sat up in his bunk. His roommates were rushing
around, getting dressed and brushing their teeth. Dakota
was wrapping himself in a long piece of red-speckled cloth
– a toga. One of the Lares was giving him pointers on
where to tuck and fold.
‘Breakfast time?’ Percy asked hopefully.
Frank’s head popped up from the bunk below. He had
bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept well. ‘A quick
breakfast. Then we’ve got the senate meeting.’
Dakota’s head was stuck in his toga. He staggered
around like a Kool-Aid-stained ghost.
‘Um,’ Percy said, ‘should I wear my bedsheets?’
Frank snorted. ‘That’s just for the senators. There’re ten
of them, elected yearly. You’ve got to be at camp five
years to qualify.’
‘So how come we’re invited to the meeting?’
‘Because … you know, the quest.’ Frank sounded
worried, like he was afraid Percy would back out. ‘We have
to be in on the discussion. You, me, Hazel. I mean, if
you’re willing …’
Frank probably didn’t mean to guilt him, but Percy’s
heart felt pulled like taffy. He had sympathy for Frank.
Getting claimed by the war god in front of the whole camp
– what a nightmare. Plus, how could Percy say no to that
big pouty baby face? Frank had been given a huge task
that would most likely get him killed. He was scared. He
needed Percy’s help.
And the three of them had made a good team last
night. Hazel and Frank were solid, dependable people.
They’d accepted Percy like family. Still, he didn’t like the
idea of this quest, especially since it came from Mars,
and especially after his dreams.
‘I, um … I’d better get ready …’ He climbed out of bed
and got dressed. The whole time, he thought about
Annabeth. Help was on the way. He could have his old life
back. All he had to do was stay put.
At breakfast, Percy was conscious of everyone looking at
him. They were whispering about the previous night:
‘Two gods in one day …’
‘Un-Roman fighting …’
‘Water cannon up my nose …’
He was too hungry to care. He filled up on pancakes,
eggs, bacon, waffles, apples and several glasses of
orange juice. He probably would have eaten more, but
Reyna announced that the senate would now convene in
the city, and all the folks in togas got up to leave.
‘Here we go.’ Hazel fidgeted with a stone that looked like
a two-carat ruby.
The ghost Vitellius appeared next to them in a purple
shimmer. ‘Bona fortuna, you three! Ah, senate meetings. I
remember the one when Caesar was assassinated. Why,
the amount of blood on his toga –’
‘Thanks, Vitellius,’ Frank interrupted. ‘We should get
going.’
Reyna and Octavian led the procession of senators out
of camp, with Reyna’s metal greyhounds dashing back
and forth along the road. Hazel, Frank and Percy trailed
behind. Percy noticed Nico di Angelo in the group,
wearing a black toga and talking with Gwen, who looked a
little pale but surprisingly good considering she’d been
dead the night before. Nico waved at Percy, then went
back to his conversation, leaving Percy more sure than
ever that Hazel’s brother was trying to avoid him.
Dakota stumbled along in his red-speckled robe. A lot
of other senators seemed to be having trouble with their
togas, too – hiking up their hems, trying to keep the cloth
from slipping off their shoulders. Percy was glad he was
wearing a regular purple T-shirt and jeans.
‘How could Romans move, in those things?’ he
wondered.
‘They were just for formal occasions,’ Hazel said. ‘Like
tuxedos. I bet the Ancient Romans hated togas as much
as we do. By the way, you didn’t bring any weapons, did
you?’
Percy’s hand went to his pocket, where his pen always
stayed. ‘Why? Are we not supposed to?’
‘No weapons allowed inside the Pomerian Line,’ she
said.
‘The what line?’
‘Pomerian,’ Frank said. ‘The city limits. Inside is a
sacred “safe zone”. Legions can’t march through. No
weapons allowed. That’s so senate meetings don’t get
bloody.’
‘Like Julius Caesar getting assassinated?’ Percy asked.
Frank nodded. ‘Don’t worry. Nothing like that has
happened in months.’
Percy hoped he was kidding.
As they got closer to the city, Percy could appreciate
how beautiful it was. The tiled roofs and gold domes
gleamed in the sun. Gardens bloomed with honeysuckle
and roses. The central plaza was paved in white and grey
stone, decorated with statues, fountains and gilded
columns. In the surrounding neighbourhoods,
cobblestone streets were lined with freshly painted town
houses, shops, cafés and parks. In the distance rose the
coliseum and the horse-racing arena.
Percy didn’t notice they’d reached the city limits until the
senators in front of him started slowing down.
On the side of the road stood a white marble statue – a
life-size muscular man with curly hair, no arms and an
irritated expression. Maybe he looked mad because he’d
been carved only from the waist up. Below that, he was
just a big block of marble.
‘Single file, please!’ the statue said. ‘Have your IDs
ready.’
Percy looked to his left and right. He hadn’t noticed
before, but a line of identical statues ringed the city at
intervals of about a hundred yards.
The senators passed through easily. The statue
checked the tattoos on their forearms and called each
senator by name. ‘Gwendolyn, senator, Fifth Cohort, yes.
Nico di Angelo, ambassador of Pluto – very well. Reyna,
praetor, of course. Hank, senator, Third Cohort – oh, nice
shoes, Hank! Ah, who have we here?’
Hazel, Frank and Percy were the last ones.
‘Terminus,’ Hazel said, ‘this is Percy Jackson. Percy,
this is Terminus, the god of boundaries.’
‘New, eh?’ said the god. ‘Yes, probatio tablet. Fine. Ah,
weapon in your pocket? Take it out! Take it out!’
Percy didn’t know how Terminus could tell, but he took
out his pen.
‘Quite dangerous,’ Terminus said. ‘Leave it in the tray.
Wait, where’s my assistant? Julia!’
A little girl about six years old peeked out from behind
the base of the statue. She had pigtails, a pink dress and
an impish grin with two missing teeth.
‘Julia?’ Terminus glanced behind him, and Julia
scurried in the other direction. ‘Where did that girl go?’
Terminus looked the other way and caught sight of Julia
before she could hide. The little girl squealed with delight.
‘Oh, there you are,’ said the statue. ‘Front and centre.
Bring the tray.’
Julia scrambled out and brushed off her dress. She
picked up a tray and presented it to Percy. On it were
several paring knives, a corkscrew, an oversized
container of sun lotion and a water bottle.
‘You can pick up your weapon on the way out,’ Terminus
said. ‘Julia will take good care of it. She’s a trained
professional.’
The little girl nodded. ‘Pro-fess-ion-al.’ She said each
syllable carefully, like she’d been practising.
Percy glanced at Hazel and Frank, who didn’t seem to
find anything odd about this. Still, he wasn’t wild about
handing over a deadly weapon to a kid.
‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘the pen returns to my pocket
automatically, so even if I give it up –’
‘Not to worry,’ Terminus assured him. ‘We’ll make sure it
doesn’t wander off. Won’t we, Julia?’
‘Yes, Mr Terminus.’
Reluctantly, Percy put his pen on the tray.
‘Now, a few rules, since you’re new,’ Terminus said. ‘You
are entering the boundaries of the city proper. Keep the
peace inside the line. Yield to chariot traffic while walking
on public roads. When you get to the Senate House, sit
on the left-hand side. And, down there – do you see where
I’m pointing?’
‘Um,’ Percy said, ‘you don’t have any hands.’
Apparently this was a sore point for Terminus. His
marble face turned a dark shade of grey. ‘A smart alec,
eh? Well, Mr Rule Flouter, right down there in the forum –
Julia, point for me, please –’
Julia dutifully set down the security tray and pointed
towards the main plaza.
‘The shop with the blue awning,’ Terminus continued,
‘that’s the general store. They sell tape measures. Buy
one! I want those jeans exactly one inch above the ankles
and that hair regulation cut. And tuck your shirt in.’
Hazel said, ‘Thank you, Terminus. We need to get
going.’
‘Fine, fine, you may pass,’ the god said testily. ‘But stay
on the right side of the road! And that rock right there –
No, Hazel, look where I’m pointing. That rock is entirely
too close to that tree. Move it two inches to the left.’
Hazel did what she was told, and they continued down
the path, Terminus still shouting orders at them while
Julia did cartwheels across the grass.
‘Is he always like that?’ Percy asked.
‘No,’ Hazel admitted. ‘Today he was laid back. Usually
he’s more obsessive/compulsive.’
‘He inhabits every boundary stone around the city,’
Frank said. ‘Kind of our last line of defence if the city’s
attacked.’
‘Terminus isn’t so bad,’ Hazel added. ‘Just don’t make
him angry, or he’ll force you to measure every blade of
grass in the valley.’
Percy filed that information. ‘And the kid? Julia?’
Hazel grinned. ‘Yeah, she’s a cutie. Her parents live in
the city. Come on. We’d better catch up to the senators.’
As they approached the forum, Percy was struck by the
sheer number of people. College-age kids were hanging
out at the fountain. Several of them waved at the senators
as they passed. One guy in his late twenties stood at a
bakery counter, flirting with a young woman who was
buying coffee. An older couple was watching a little boy in
diapers and a miniature Camp Jupiter shirt toddle after
seagulls. Merchants were opening their shops for the day,
putting out signs in Latin that advertised pottery, jewellery
and half-price tickets for the Hippodrome.
‘All these people are demigods?’ Percy asked.
‘Or descended from demigods,’ Hazel said. ‘Like I told
you, it’s a good place to go to college or raise a family
without worrying about monster attacks every day. Maybe
two, three hundred people live here? The veterans act as,
like, advisers and reserve forces as needed, but mostly
they’re just citizens living their lives.’
Percy imagined what that would be like: getting an
apartment in this tiny replica of Rome, protected by the
legion and Terminus the OCD border god. He imagined
holding hands with Annabeth at a café. Maybe when they
were older, watching their own kid chase seagulls across
the forum …
He shook the idea out of his head. He couldn’t afford to
indulge in that kind of thinking. Most of his memories were
gone, but he knew this place wasn’t his home. He
belonged somewhere else, with his other friends.
Besides, Camp Jupiter was in danger. If Juno was right,
an attack was coming in less than five days. Percy
imagined that sleeping woman’s face – the face of Gaia –
forming in the hills above camp. He imagined hordes of
monsters descending into this valley.
If you don’t succeed, Mars had warned, there won’t be
any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy
lost forever.
He thought about the little girl Julia, the families with
kids, his new friends in the Fifth Cohort, even those silly
fauns. He didn’t want to picture what might happen to them
if this place was destroyed.
The senators made their way to a big white-domed
building on the west end of the forum. Percy paused at the
doorway, trying not to think about Julius Caesar getting
slashed to death at a senate meeting. Then he took a
deep breath and followed Hazel and Frank inside.

Categories: The Son of Neptune