THE SENATE HOUSE INTERIOR looked like a high school
lecture hall. A semicircle of tiered seats faced a dais with
a podium and two chairs. The chairs were empty, but one
had a small velvet package on the seat.
Percy, Hazel and Frank sat on the left side of the
semicircle. The ten senators and Nico di Angelo
occupied the rest of the front row. The upper rows were
filled with several dozen ghosts and a few older veterans
from the city, all in formal togas. Octavian stood in front
with a knife and a Beanie Baby lion, just in case anyone
needed to consult the god of cutesy collectibles. Reyna
walked to the podium and raised her hand for attention.
‘Right, this is an emergency meeting,’ she said. ‘We
won’t stand on formalities.’
‘I love formalities!’ a ghost complained.
Reyna shot him a cross look.
‘First of all,’ she said, ‘we’re not here to vote on the quest
itself. The quest has been issued by Mars Ultor, patron of
Rome. We will obey his wishes. Nor are we here to debate
the choice of Frank Zhang’s companions.’
‘All three from the Fifth Cohort?’ called out Hank from
the Third. ‘That’s not fair.’
‘And not smart,’ said the boy next to him. ‘We know the
Fifth will mess up. They should take somebody good.’
Dakota got up so fast he spilled Kool-Aid from his flask.
‘We were plenty good last night when we whipped your
podex, Larry!’
‘Enough, Dakota,’ Reyna said. ‘Let’s leave Larry’s
podex out of this. As quest leader, Frank has the right to
choose his companions. He has chosen Percy Jackson
and Hazel Levesque.’
A ghost from the second row yelled, ‘Absurdus! Frank
Zhang isn’t even a full member of the legion! He’s on
probatio. A quest must be led by someone of centurion
rank or higher. This is completely –’
‘Cato,’ Reyna snapped. ‘We must obey the wishes of
Mars Ultor. That means certain … adjustments.’
Reyna clapped her hands, and Octavian came forward.
He set down his knife and Beanie Baby and took the
velvet package from the chair.
‘Frank Zhang,’ he said, ‘come forward.’
Frank glanced nervously at Percy. Then he got to his
feet and approached the augur.
‘It is my … pleasure,’ Octavian said, forcing out the last
word, ‘to bestow upon you the Mural Crown for being first
over the walls in siege warfare.’ Octavian handed him a
bronze badge shaped like a laurel wreath. ‘Also, by order
of Praetor Reyna, to promote you to the rank of centurion.’
He handed Frank another badge, a bronze crescent,
and the senate exploded in protest.
‘He’s still a probie!’ one yelled.
‘Impossible!’ said another.
‘Water cannon up my nose!’ yelled a third.
‘Silence!’ Octavian’s voice sounded a lot more
commanding than it had the previous night on the
battlefield. ‘Our praetor recognizes that no one below the
rank of centurion may lead a quest. For good or ill, Frank
must lead this quest – so our praetor has decreed that
Frank Zhang must be made centurion.’
Suddenly Percy understood what an effective speaker
Octavian was. He sounded reasonable and supportive,
but his expression was pained. He carefully crafted his
words to put all the responsibility on Reyna. This was her
idea, he seemed to say.
If it went wrong, Reyna was to blame. If only Octavian
had been the one in charge, things would have been done
more sensibly. But, alas, he had no choice but to support
Reyna, because Octavian was a loyal Roman soldier.
Octavian managed to convey all that without saying it,
simultaneously calming the senate and sympathizing with
them. For the first time, Percy realized this scrawny, funnylooking
scarecrow of a kid might be a dangerous enemy.
Reyna must have recognized this, too. A look of
irritation flashed across her face. ‘There is an opening for
centurion,’ she said. ‘One of our officers, also a senator,
has decided to step down. After ten years in the legion,
she will retire to the city and attend college. Gwen of the
Fifth Cohort, we thank you for your service.’
Everyone turned to Gwen, who managed a brave smile.
She looked tired from the previous night’s ordeal, but also
relieved. Percy couldn’t blame her. Compared to getting
skewered with a pilum, college sounded pretty good.
‘As praetor,’ Reyna continued, ‘I have the right to
replace officers. I admit it’s unusual for a camper on
probatio to rise directly to the rank of centurion, but I think
we can agree … last night was unusual. Frank Zhang,
your ID, please.’
Frank removed the lead tablet from round his neck and
handed it to Octavian.
‘Your arm,’ Octavian said.
Frank held up his forearm. Octavian raised his hands to
the heavens. ‘We accept Frank Zhang, Son of Mars, to
the Twelfth Legion Fulminata for his first year of service.
Do you pledge your life to the senate and people of
Rome?’
Frank muttered something like, ‘Ud-dud.’ Then he
cleared his throat and managed: ‘I do.’
The senators shouted, ‘Senatus Populusque
Romanus!’
Fire blazed on Frank’s arm. For a moment his eyes
filled with terror, and Percy was afraid his friend might
pass out. Then the smoke and flame died, and new marks
were seared onto Frank’s skin: SPQR, an image of crossed
spears, and a single stripe, representing the first year of
service.
‘You may sit down.’ Octavian glanced at the audience
as if to say: This wasn’t my idea, folks.
‘Now,’ Reyna said, ‘we must discuss the quest.’
The senators shifted and muttered as Frank returned to
his seat.
‘Did it hurt?’ Percy whispered.
Frank looked at his forearm, which was still steaming.
‘Yeah. A lot.’ He seemed mystified by the badges in his
hand – the centurion’s mark and the Mural Crown – like
he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
‘Here.’ Hazel’s eyes shone with pride. ‘Let me.’
She pinned the medals to Frank’s shirt.
Percy smiled. He’d only known Frank for a day, but he
felt proud of him, too. ‘You deserve it, man,’ he said. ‘What
you did last night? Natural leadership.’
Frank scowled. ‘But centurion –’
‘Centurion Zhang,’ called Octavian. ‘Did you hear the
question?’
Frank blinked. ‘Um … sorry. What?’
Octavian turned to the senate and smirked, like, What
did I tell you?
‘I was asking,’ Octavian said like he was talking to a
three-year-old, ‘if you have a plan for the quest. Do you
even know where you are going?’
‘Um …’
Hazel put her hand on Frank’s shoulder and stood.
‘Weren’t you listening last night, Octavian? Mars was
pretty clear. We’re going to the land beyond the gods –
Alaska.’
The senators squirmed in their togas. Some of the
ghosts shimmered and disappeared. Even Reyna’s metal
dogs rolled over on their backs and whimpered.
Finally Senator Larry stood. ‘I know what Mars said, but
that’s crazy. Alaska is cursed! They call it the land beyond
the gods for a reason. It’s so far north that the Roman
gods have no power there. The place is swarming with
monsters. No demigod has come back from there alive
since –’
‘Since you lost your eagle,’ Percy said.
Larry was so startled, he fell back on his podex.
‘Look,’ Percy continued, ‘I know I’m new here. I know you
guys don’t like to mention that massacre in the 1980s –’
‘He mentioned it!’ one of the ghosts whimpered.
‘– but don’t you get it?’ Percy continued. ‘The Fifth
Cohort led that expedition. We failed, and we have to be
responsible for making things right. That’s why Mars is
sending us. This giant, the son of Gaia, he’s the one who
defeated your forces thirty years ago. I’m sure of it. Now
he’s sitting up there in Alaska with a chained death god,
and all your old equipment. He’s mustering his armies
and sending them south to attack this camp.’
‘Really?’ Octavian said. ‘You seem to know a lot about
our enemy’s plans, Percy Jackson.’
Most insults Percy could shrug off – being called weak
or stupid or whatever. But it dawned on him that Octavian
was calling him a spy – a traitor. That was such a foreign
concept to Percy, so not who he was, he almost couldn’t
process the slur. When he did, his shoulders tensed. He
was tempted to smack Octavian on the head again, but he
realized Octavian was baiting him, trying to make him
look unstable.
Percy took a deep breath.
‘We’re going to confront this son of Gaia,’ he said,
managing to keep his composure. ‘We’ll get back your
eagle and unchain this god …’ He glanced at Hazel.
‘Thanatos, right?’
She nodded. ‘Letus, in Roman. But his old Greek name
is Thanatos. When it comes to Death … we’re happy to let
him stay Greek.’
Octavian sighed in exasperation. ‘Well, whatever you
call him … how do you expect to do all this and get back
by the Feast of Fortuna? That’s the evening of the twentyfourth.
It’s the twentieth now. Do you even know where to
look? Do you even know who this son of Gaia is?’
‘Yes.’ Hazel spoke with such certainty that even Percy
was surprised. ‘I don’t know exactly where to look, but I
have a pretty good idea. The giant’s name is Alcyoneus.’
That name seemed to lower the temperature in the
room by fifty degrees. The senators shivered.
Reyna gripped her podium. ‘How do you know this,
Hazel? Because you’re a child of Pluto?’
Nico di Angelo had been so quiet that Percy had
almost forgotten he was there. Now he stood in his black
toga.
‘Praetor, if I may,’ he said. ‘Hazel and I … we learned a
little about the giants from our father. Each giant was bred
specifically to oppose one of the twelve Olympian gods –
to usurp that god’s domain. The king of giants was
Porphyrion, the anti-Jupiter. But the eldest giant was
Alcyoneus. He was born to oppose Pluto. That’s why we
know of him in particular.’
Reyna frowned. ‘Indeed? You sound quite familiar with
him.’
Nico picked at the edge of his toga. ‘Anyway … the
giants were hard to kill. According to prophecy, they could
only be defeated by gods and demigods working
together.’
Dakota belched. ‘Sorry, did you say gods and
demigods … like, fighting side by side? That could never
happen!’
‘It has happened,’ Nico said. ‘In the first giant war, the
gods called on heroes to join them, and they were
victorious. Whether it could happen again, I don’t know.
But with Alcyoneus … he was different. He was completely
immortal, impossible to kill by god or demigod, as long as
he remained in his home territory – the place where he
was born.’
Nico paused to let that sink in. ‘And if Alcyoneus has
been reborn in Alaska –’
‘Then he can’t be defeated there,’ Hazel finished. ‘Ever.
By any means. Which is why our 1980s expedition was
doomed to fail.’
Another round of arguing and shouting broke out.
‘The quest is impossible!’ shouted a senator.
‘We’re doomed!’ cried a ghost.
‘More Kool-Aid!’ yelled Dakota.
‘Silence!’ Reyna called. ‘Senators, we must act like
Romans. Mars has given us this quest, and we have to
believe it is possible. These three demigods must travel
to Alaska. They must free Thanatos and return before the
Feast of Fortuna. If they can retrieve the lost eagle in the
process, so much the better. All we can do is advise them
and make sure they have a plan.’
Reyna looked at Percy without much hope. ‘You do
have a plan?’
Percy wanted to step forward bravely and say, No, I
don’t!That was the truth, but looking around at all the
nervous faces Percy knew he couldn’t say it.
‘First, I need to understand something.’ He turned
towards Nico. ‘I thought Pluto was the god of the dead.
Now I hear about this other guy, Thanatos, and the Doors
of Death from that prophecy – the Prophecy of Seven.
What does all that mean?’
Nico took a deep breath. ‘Okay. Pluto is the god of the
Underworld, but the actual god of death, the one who’s
responsible for making sure souls go to the afterlife and
stay there – that’s Pluto’s lieutenant, Thanatos. He’s
like … well, imagine Life and Death are two different
countries. Everybody would like to be in Life, right? So
there’s a guarded border to keep people from crossing
back over without permission. But it’s a big border, with
lots of holes in the fence. Pluto tries to seal up the
breaches, but new ones keep popping up all the time.
That’s why he depends on Thanatos, who’s like the border
patrol, the police.’
‘Thanatos catches souls,’ Percy said, ‘and deports them
back to the Underworld.’
‘Exactly,’ Nico said. ‘But now Thanatos has been
captured, chained up.’
Frank raised his hand. ‘Uh … how do you chain Death?’
‘It’s been done before,’ Nico said. ‘In the old days, a guy
named Sisyphus tricked Death and tied him up. Another
time, Hercules wrestled him to the ground.’
‘And now a giant has captured him,’ Percy said. ‘So, if
we could free Thanatos, then the dead would stay dead?’
He glanced at Gwen. ‘Um … no offence.’
‘It’s more complicated than that,’ Nico said.
Octavian rolled his eyes. ‘Why does that not surprise
me?’
‘You mean the Doors of Death,’ Reyna said, ignoring
Octavian. ‘They are mentioned in the Prophecy of Seven,
which sent the first expedition to Alaska –’
Cato the ghost snorted. ‘We all know how that turned
out! We Lares remember!’
The other ghosts grumbled in agreement.
Nico put his finger to his lips. Suddenly all the Lares
went silent. Some looked alarmed, like their mouths had
been glued together. Percy wished he had that power over
certain living people … like Octavian, for instance.
‘Thanatos is only part of the solution,’ Nico explained.
‘The Doors of Death … well, that’s a concept even I don’t
completely understand. There are many ways into the
Underworld – the River Styx, the Door of Orpheus – plus
smaller escape routes that open up from time to time.
With Thanatos imprisoned, all those exits will be easier to
use. Sometimes it might work to our advantage and let a
friendly soul come back – like Gwen here. More often, it
will benefit evil souls and monsters, the sneaky ones who
are looking to escape. Now, the Doors of Death – those
are the personal doors of Thanatos, his fast lane between
Life and Death. Only Thanatos is supposed to know where
they are, and the location shifts over the ages. If I
understand correctly, the Doors of Death have been
forced open. Gaia’s minions have seized control of them
–’
‘Which means Gaia controls who can come back from
the dead,’ Percy guessed.
Nico nodded. ‘She can pick and choose who to let out –
the worst monsters, the most evil souls. If we rescue
Thanatos, that means at least he can catch souls again
and send them below. Monsters will die when we kill them,
like they used to, and we’ll get a little breathing room. But
unless we’re able to retake the Doors of Death, our
enemies won’t stay down for long. They’ll have an easy
way back to the world of the living.’
‘So we can catch them and deport them,’ Percy
summed up, ‘but they’ll just keep coming back across.’
‘In a depressing nutshell, yes,’ Nico said.
Frank scratched his head. ‘But Thanatos knows where
the doors are, right? If we free him, he can retake them.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Nico said. ‘Not alone. He’s no match for
Gaia. That would take a massive quest … an army of the
best demigods.’
‘Foes bear arms to the Doors of Death,’ Reyna said.
‘That’s the Prophecy of Seven …’ She looked at Percy,
and for just a moment he could see how scared she was.
She did a good job of hiding it, but Percy wondered if
she’d had nightmares about Gaia, too – if she’d seen
visions of what would happen when the camp was invaded
by monsters that couldn’t be killed. ‘If this begins the
ancient prophecy, we don’t have resources to send an
army to these Doors of Death and protect the camp. I can’t
imagine even sparing seven demigods –’
‘First things first.’ Percy tried to sound confident, though
he could feel the level of panic rising in the room. ‘I don’t
know who the seven are, or what that old prophecy means,
exactly. But first we have to free Thanatos. Mars told us we
only needed three people for the quest to Alaska. Let’s
concentrate on succeeding with that and getting back
before the Feast of Fortuna. Then we can worry about the
Doors of Death.’
‘Yeah,’ Frank said in a small voice. ‘That’s probably
enough for one week.’
‘So you do have a plan?’ Octavian asked sceptically.
Percy looked at his teammates. ‘We go to Alaska as
fast as possible …’
‘And we improvise,’ Hazel said.
‘A lot,’ Frank added.
Reyna studied them. She looked like she was mentally
writing her own obituary.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Nothing remains except for us to
vote on what support we can give the quest –
transportation, money, magic, weapons.’
‘Praetor, if I may,’ Octavian said.
‘Oh, great,’ Percy muttered. ‘Here it comes.’
‘The camp is in grave danger,’ Octavian said. ‘Two gods
have warned us we will be attacked four days from now.
We must not spread our resources too thin, especially by
funding projects that have a slim chance of success.’
Octavian looked at the three of them with pity, as if to
say, Poor little things. ‘Mars has clearly chosen the least
likely candidates for this quest. Perhaps that is because
he considers them the most expendable. Perhaps Mars is
playing the long odds. Whatever the case, he wisely didn’t
order a massive expedition, nor did he ask us to fund their
adventure. I say we keep our resources here and defend
the camp. This is where the battle will be lost or won. If
these three succeed, wonderful! But they should do so by
their own ingenuity.’
An uneasy murmur passed through the crowd. Frank
jumped to his feet. Before he could start a fight, Percy
said, ‘Fine! No problem. But at least give us
transportation. Gaia is the earth goddess, right? Going
overland, across the earth – I’m guessing we should avoid
that. Plus, it’ll be too slow.’
Octavian laughed. ‘Would you like us to charter you an
aeroplane?’
The idea made Percy nauseous. ‘No. Air travel … I
have a feeling that would be bad, too. But a boat. Can you
at least give us a boat?’
Hazel made a grunting sound. Percy glanced over. She
shook her head and mouthed, Fine. I’m fine.
‘A boat!’ Octavian turned to the senators. ‘The son of
Neptune wants a boat. Sea travel has never been the
Roman way, but he isn’t much of a Roman!’
‘Octavian,’ Reyna said sternly, ‘a boat is little enough to
ask. And providing no other aid seems very –’
‘Traditional!’ Octavian exclaimed. ‘It is very traditional.
Let us see if these questers have the strength to survive
without help, like true Romans!’
More muttering filled the chamber. The senators’ eyes
moved back and forth between Octavian and Reyna,
watching the test of wills.
Reyna straightened in her chair. ‘Very well,’ she said
tightly. ‘We’ll put it to a vote. Senators, the motion is as
follows: the quest shall go to Alaska. The senate shall
provide full access to the Roman navy docked at
Alameda. No other aid will be forthcoming. The three
adventurers will survive or fail on their own merits. All in
favour?’
Every senator’s hand went up.
‘The motion is passed.’ Reyna turned to Frank.
‘Centurion, your party is excused. The senate has other
matters to discuss. And, Octavian, if I may confer with you
for a moment.’
Percy was incredibly glad to see the sunlight. In that
dark hall, with all those eyes on him, he’d felt like the world
was riding on his shoulders – and he was fairly sure he’d
had that experience before.
He filled his lungs with fresh air.
Hazel picked up a large emerald from the path and
slipped it in her pocket. ‘So … we’re pretty much toast?’
Frank nodded miserably. ‘If either of you wants to back
out, I wouldn’t blame you.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Hazel said. ‘And pull sentry duty for
the rest of the week?’
Frank managed a smile. He turned to Percy.
Percy gazed across the forum. Stay put, Annabeth had
said in his dream. But if he stayed put this camp would be
destroyed. He looked up at the hills, and imagined Gaia’s
face smiling in the shadows and ridges. You can’t win,
little demigod, she seemed to say. Serve me by staying,
or serve me by going.
Percy made a silent vow: after the Feast of Fortuna, he
would find Annabeth. But, for now, he had to act. He
couldn’t let Gaia win.
‘I’m with you,’ he told Frank. ‘Besides, I want to check out
the Roman navy.’
They were only halfway across the forum when
someone called, ‘Jackson!’ Percy turned and saw
Octavian jogging towards them.
‘What do you want?’ Percy asked.
Octavian smiled. ‘Already decided I’m your enemy?
That’s a rash choice, Percy. I’m a loyal Roman.’
Frank snarled. ‘You backstabbing, slimy –’ Both Percy
and Hazel had to restrain him.
‘Oh, dear,’ Octavian said. ‘Hardly the right behaviour for
a new centurion. Jackson, I only followed you because
Reyna charged me with a message. She wants you to
report to the principia without your – ah – two lackeys,
here. Reyna will meet you there after the senate adjourns.
She’d like a private word with you before you leave on
your quest.’
‘What about?’ Percy said.
‘I’m sure I don’t know.’ Octavian smiled wickedly. ‘The
last person she had a private talk with was Jason Grace.
And that was the last time I ever saw him. Good luck and
goodbye, Percy Jackson.’
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