AT LEAST THE CAMP FOOD WAS GOOD. Invisible wind spirits –
aurae – waited on the campers and seemed to know
exactly what everyone wanted. They blew plates and cups
around so quickly the mess hall looked like a delicious
hurricane. If you got up too fast, you were likely to get
beaned by beans or potted by a pot roast.
Hazel got shrimp gumbo – her favourite comfort food. It
made her think about being a little girl in New Orleans,
before her curse set in and her mom got so bitter. Percy
got a cheeseburger and a strange-looking soda that was
bright blue. Hazel didn’t understand that, but Percy tried it
and grinned.
‘This makes me happy,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why … but
it does.’
Just for a moment, one of the aurae became visible –
an elfin girl in a white silk dress. She giggled as she
topped off Percy’s glass, then disappeared in a gust.
The mess hall seemed especially noisy tonight.
Laughter echoed off the walls. War banners rustled from
cedar ceiling beams as aurae blew back and forth,
keeping everyone’s plates full. The campers dined
Roman style, sitting on couches around low tables. Kids
were constantly getting up and trading places, spreading
rumours about who liked whom and all the other gossip.
As usual, the Fifth Cohort took the place of least
honour. Their tables were at the back of the dining hall
next to the kitchen. Hazel’s table was always the least
crowded. Tonight it was she and Frank, as usual, with
Percy and Nico and their centurion Dakota, who sat there,
Hazel figured, because he felt obligated to welcome the
new recruit.
Dakota reclined glumly on his couch, mixing sugar into
his drink and chugging it. He was a beefy guy with curly
black hair and eyes that didn’t quite line up straight, so
Hazel felt like the world was leaning whenever she looked
at him. It wasn’t a good sign that he was drinking so much
so early in the night.
‘So.’ He burped, waving his goblet. ‘Welcome to the
Percy, party.’ He frowned. ‘Party, Percy. Whatever.’
‘Um, thanks,’ Percy said, but his attention was focused
on Nico. ‘I was wondering if we could talk, you
know … about where I might have seen you before.’
‘Sure,’ Nico said a little too quickly. ‘The thing is, I
spend most of my time in the Underworld. So unless I met
you there somehow –’
Dakota belched. ‘Ambassador from Pluto, they call
him. Reyna’s never sure what to do with this guy when he
visits. You should have seen her face when he showed up
with Hazel, asking Reyna to take her in. Um, no offence.’
‘None taken.’ Nico seemed relieved to change the
topic. ‘Dakota was really helpful, standing for Hazel.’
Dakota blushed. ‘Yeah, well … She seemed like a good
kid. Turned out I was right. Last month, when she saved
me from, uh, you know.’
‘Oh, man!’ Frank looked up from his fish and chips.
‘Percy, you should have seen her! That’s how Hazel got
her stripe. The unicorns decided to stampede –’
‘It was nothing,’ Hazel said.
‘Nothing?’ Frank protested. ‘Dakota would’ve been
trampled! You stood right in front of them, shooed them
away, saved his hide. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
Hazel bit her lip. She didn’t like to talk about it, and she
felt uncomfortable, the way Frank made her sound like a
hero. In truth, she’d been mostly afraid that the unicorns
would hurt themselves in their panic. Their horns were
precious metal – silver and gold – so she’d managed to
turn them aside simply by concentrating, steering the
animals by their horns and guiding them back to the
stables. It had got her a full place in the legion, but it had
also started rumours about her strange powers – rumours
that reminded her of the bad old days.
Percy studied her. Those sea-green eyes made her
unsettled.
‘Did you and Nico grow up together?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Nico answered for her. ‘I found out that Hazel was
my sister only recently. She’s from New Orleans.’
That was true, of course, but not the whole truth. Nico let
people think he’d stumbled upon her in modern New
Orleans and brought her to camp. It was easier than
telling the real story.
Hazel had tried to pass herself off as a modern kid. It
wasn’t easy. Thankfully, demigods didn’t use a lot of
technology at camp. Their powers tended to make
electronic gadgets go haywire. But the first time she went
on furlough to Berkeley, she had nearly had a stroke.
Televisions, computers, iPods, the Internet … It made her
glad to get back to the world of ghosts, unicorns and gods.
That seemed much less of a fantasy than the twenty-first
century.
Nico was still talking about the children of Pluto. ‘There
aren’t many of us,’ he said, ‘so we have to stick together.
When I found Hazel –’
‘You have other sisters?’ Percy asked, almost as if he
knew the answer. Hazel wondered again when he and
Nico had met, and what her brother was hiding.
‘One,’ Nico admitted. ‘But she died. I saw her spirit a few
times in the Underworld, except that the last time I went
down there …’
To bring her back, Hazel thought, though Nico didn’t
say that.
‘She was gone.’ Nico’s voice turned hoarse. ‘She used
to be in Elysium – like, the Underworld paradise – but she
chose to be reborn into a new life. Now I’ll never see her
again. I was just lucky to find Hazel … in New Orleans, I
mean.’
Dakota grunted. ‘Unless you believe the rumours. Not
saying that I do.’
‘Rumours?’ Percy asked.
From across the room, Don the faun yelled, ‘Hazel!’
Hazel had never been so glad to see the faun. He
wasn’t allowed in camp, but of course he always managed
to get in. He was working his way towards their table,
grinning at everybody, sneaking food off plates, and
pointing at campers: ‘Hey! Call me!’ A flying pizza
smacked him in the head, and he disappeared behind a
couch. Then he popped up, still grinning, and made his
way over.
‘My favourite girl!’ He smelled like a wet goat wrapped in
old cheese. He leaned over their couches and checked
out their food. ‘Say, new kid, you going to eat that?’
Percy frowned. ‘Aren’t fauns vegetarian?’
‘Not the cheeseburger, man! The plate!’ He sniffed
Percy’s hair. ‘Hey … what’s that smell?’
‘Don!’ Hazel said. ‘Don’t be rude.’
‘No, man, I just –’
Their house god Vitellius shimmered into existence,
standing half embedded in Frank’s couch. ‘Fauns in the
dining hall! What are we coming to? Centurion Dakota, do
your duty!’
‘I am,’ Dakota grumbled into his goblet. ‘I’m having
dinner!’
Don was still sniffing around Percy. ‘Man, you’ve got an
empathy link with a faun!’
Percy leaned away from him. ‘A what?’
‘An empathy link! It’s real faint, like somebody’s
suppressed it, but –’
‘I know what!’ Nico stood suddenly. ‘Hazel, how about we
give you and Frank time to get Percy oriented? Dakota
and I can visit the praetor’s table. Don and Vitellius, you
come too. We can discuss strategies for the war games.’
‘Strategies for losing?’ Dakota muttered.
‘Death Boy is right!’ Vitellius said. ‘This legion fights
worse than we did in Judea, and that was the first time we
lost our eagle. Why, if I were in charge –’
‘Could I just eat the silverware first?’ Don asked.
‘Let’s go!’ Nico stood and grabbed Don and Vitellius by
the ears.
Nobody but Nico could actually touch the Lares.
Vitellius spluttered with outrage as he was dragged off to
the praetor’s table.
‘Ow!’ Don protested. ‘Man, watch the ’fro!’
‘Come on, Dakota!’ Nico called over his shoulder.
The centurion got up reluctantly. He wiped his mouth –
uselessly, since it was permanently stained red. ‘Back
soon.’ He shook all over, like a dog trying to get dry. Then
he staggered away, his goblet sloshing.
‘What was that about?’ Percy asked. ‘And what’s wrong
with Dakota?’
Frank sighed. ‘He’s okay. He’s a son of Bacchus, the
wine god. He’s got a drinking problem.’
Percy’s eyes widened. ‘You let him drink wine?’
‘Gods, no!’ Hazel said. ‘That would be a disaster. He’s
addicted to red Kool-Aid. Drinks it with three times the
normal sugar, and he’s already ADHD – you know,
attention deficit/hyperactive. One of these days, his head
is going to explode.’
Percy looked over at the praetor’s table. Most of the
senior officers were in deep conversation with Reyna.
Nico and his two captives, Don and Vitellius, stood on the
periphery. Dakota was running back and forth along a line
of stacked shields, banging his goblet on them like they
were a xylophone.
‘ADHD,’ Percy said. ‘You don’t say.’
Hazel tried not to laugh. ‘Well … most demigods are. Or
dyslexic. Just being a demigod means that our brains are
wired differently. Like you – you said you had trouble
reading.’
‘Are you guys that way too?’ Percy asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Hazel admitted. ‘Maybe. Back in my day,
they just called kids like us “lazy”.’
Percy frowned. ‘Back in your day?’
Hazel cursed herself.
Luckily for her, Frank spoke up: ‘I wish I was ADHD or
dyslexic. All I got is lactose intolerance.’
Percy grinned. ‘Seriously?’
Frank might’ve been the silliest demigod ever, but
Hazel thought he was cute when he pouted. His shoulders
slumped. ‘And I love ice cream, too …’
Percy laughed. Hazel couldn’t help joining in. It was
good to sit at dinner and actually feel like she was among
friends.
‘Okay, so tell me,’ Percy said, ‘why is it bad to be in the
Fifth Cohort? You guys are great.’
The compliment made Hazel’s toes tingle.
‘It’s … complicated. Aside from being Pluto’s kid, I want to
ride horses.’
‘That’s why you use a cavalry sword?’
She nodded. ‘It’s stupid, I guess. Wishful thinking.
There’s only one pegasus at camp – Reyna’s. The
unicorns are just kept for medicine, because the shavings
off their horns cure poisoning and stuff. Anyway, Roman
fighting is always done on foot. Cavalry … they kind of
look down on that. So they look down on me.’
‘Their loss,’ Percy said. ‘What about you, Frank?’
‘Archery,’ he muttered. ‘They don’t like that either,
unless you’re a child of Apollo. Then you’ve got an
excuse. I hope my dad is Apollo, but I don’t know. I can’t
do poetry very well. And I’m not sure I want to be related to
Octavian.’
‘Can’t blame you,’ Percy said. ‘But you’re excellent with
the bow – the way you pegged those gorgons? Forget
what other people think.’
Frank’s face turned as red as Dakota’s Kool-Aid. ‘Wish I
could. They all think I should be a sword fighter because
I’m big and bulky.’ He looked down at his body, like he
couldn’t quite believe it was his. ‘They say I’m too stocky
for an archer. Maybe if my dad would ever claim me …’
They ate in silence for a few minutes. A dad who
wouldn’t claim you … Hazel knew that feeling. She sensed
Percy could relate, too.
‘You asked about the Fifth,’ she said at last. ‘Why it’s the
worst cohort. That actually started way before us.’
She pointed to the back wall, where the legion’s
standards were on display. ‘See the empty pole in the
middle?’
‘The eagle,’ Percy said.
Hazel was stunned. ‘How’d you know?’
Percy shrugged. ‘Vitellius was talking about how the
legion lost its eagle a long time ago – the first time, he
said. He acted like it was a huge disgrace. I’m guessing
that’s what’s missing. And from the way you and Reyna
were talking earlier, I’m guessing your eagle got lost a
second time, more recently, and it had something to do
with the Fifth Cohort.’
Hazel made a mental note not to underestimate Percy
again. When he’d first arrived, she’d thought he was a little
goofy from the questions he’d asked – about the Feast for
Tuna and all – but clearly he was smarter than he let on.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘That’s exactly what happened.’
‘So what is this eagle, anyway? Why is it a big deal?’
Frank looked around to make sure no one was
eavesdropping. ‘It’s the symbol of the whole camp – a big
eagle made of gold. It’s supposed to protect us in battle
and make our enemies afraid. Each legion’s eagle gave it
all sorts of power, and ours came from Jupiter himself.
Supposedly Julius Caesar nicknamed our legion
“Fulminata” – armed with lightning – because of what the
eagle could do.’
‘I don’t like lightning,’ Percy said.
‘Yeah, well,’ Hazel said, ‘it didn’t make us invincible.
The Twelfth lost its eagle the first time way back in ancient
days, during the Jewish Rebellion.’
‘I think I saw a movie like that,’ Percy said.
Hazel shrugged. ‘Could be. There have been lots of
books and movies about legions losing their eagles.
Unfortunately it happened quite a few times. The eagle
was so important … well, archaeologists have never
recovered a single eagle from ancient Rome. Each legion
guarded theirs to the last man, because it was charged
with power from the gods. They’d rather hide it or melt it
down than surrender it to an enemy. The Twelfth was lucky
the first time. We got our eagle back. But the second
time …’
‘You guys were there?’ Percy asked.
They both shook their heads.
‘I’m almost as new as you.’ Frank tapped his probatio
plate. ‘Just got here last month. But everyone’s heard the
story. It’s bad luck to even talk about this. There was this
huge expedition to Alaska back in the eighties …’
‘That prophecy you noticed in the temple,’ Hazel
continued, ‘the one about the seven demigods and the
Doors of Death? Our senior praetor at the time was
Michael Varus, from the Fifth Cohort. Back then the Fifth
was the best in camp. He thought it would bring glory to
the legion if he could figure out the prophecy and make it
come true – save the world from storm and fire and all
that. He talked to the augur, and the augur said the
answer was in Alaska. But he warned Michael it wasn’t
time yet. The prophecy wasn’t for him.’
‘But he went anyway,’ Percy guessed. ‘What happened?’
Frank lowered his voice. ‘Long, gruesome story. Almost
the entire Fifth Cohort was wiped out. Most of legion’s
Imperial gold weapons were lost, along with the eagle. The
survivors went crazy or refused to talk about what had
attacked them.’
I know, Hazel thought solemnly. But she kept silent.
‘Since the eagle was lost,’ Frank continued, ‘the camp
has been getting weaker. Quests are more dangerous.
Monsters attack the borders more often. Morale is lower.
The last month or so, things have been getting much
worse, much faster.’
‘And the Fifth Cohort took the blame,’ Percy guessed.
‘So now everyone thinks we’re cursed.’
Hazel realized her gumbo was cold. She sipped a
spoonful, but the comfort food didn’t taste very comforting.
‘We’ve been the outcasts of the legion since … well, since
the Alaska disaster. Our reputation got better when Jason
became praetor –’
‘The kid who’s missing?’ Percy asked.
‘Yeah,’ Frank said. ‘I never met him. Before my time.
But I hear he was a good leader. He practically grew up in
the Fifth Cohort. He didn’t care what people thought about
us. He started to rebuild our reputation. Then he
disappeared.’
‘Which put us back at square one,’ Hazel said bitterly.
‘Made us look cursed all over again. I’m sorry, Percy. Now
you know what you’ve got yourself into.’
Percy sipped his blue soda and gazed thoughtfully
across the dining hall. ‘I don’t even know where I come
from … but I’ve got a feeling this isn’t the first time I’ve
been an underdog.’ He focused on Hazel and managed a
smile. ‘Besides, joining the legion is better than being
chased through the wilderness by monsters. I’ve got
myself some new friends. Maybe together we can turn
things around for the Fifth Cohort, huh?’
A horn blew at the end of the hall. The officers at the
praetor’s table got to their feet – even Dakota, his mouth
vampire-red from Kool-Aid.
‘The games begin!’ Reyna announced. The campers
cheered and rushed to collect their equipment from the
stacks along the walls.
‘So we’re the attacking team?’ Percy asked over the
noise. ‘Is that good?’
Hazel shrugged. ‘Good news: we get the elephant. Bad
news –’
‘Let me guess,’ said Percy. ‘The Fifth Cohort always
loses.’
Frank slapped Percy on the shoulder. ‘I love this guy.
Come on, new friend. Let’s go chalk up my thirteenth
defeat in a row!’
.-._.
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