Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or any of the other characters.
This is chapter 49 of The Son of Neptune.
Percy Pov:
FOUR HOURS.
That's how long it took the fastest horse on the planet to get from
Alaska to San Francisco Bay, heading straight over the water down the
Northwest Coast.
That's also how long it took for Percy's memory to return completely.
The process had started in Portland when he had drunk the gorgon's
blood, but his past life had still been maddeningly fuzzy. Now, as they
headed back into the Olympian gods' territory, Percy remembered
everything: the war with Kronos, his sixteenth birthday at Camp Half-Blood,
his trainer Chiron the centaur, his best friend Grover, his brother Tyson,
and most of all Annabeth—two great months of dating, and then BOOM.
He'd been abducted by the alien known as Hera. Or Juno…whatever.
Eight months of his life stolen. Next time Percy saw the Queen of
Olympus, he was definitely going to give her a goddess-sized slap upside
the head.
His friends and family must be going out of their minds. If Camp
Jupiter was in such bad trouble, he could only guess what Camp Half-
Blood must be facing without him.
Even worse: Saving both camps would be only the beginning.
According to Alcyoneus, the real war would happen far away, in the
homeland of the gods. The giants intended to attack the original Mount
Olympus and destroy the gods forever.
Percy knew that giants couldn't die unless demigods and gods fought
them together. Nico had told him that. Annabeth had mentioned it too, back
in August, when she'd speculated that the giants might be part of the new
Great Prophecy—what the Romans called the Prophecy of Seven. (That
was the downside of dating the smartest girl at camp: You learn stuff.)
He understood Juno's plan: Unite the Roman and Greek demigods to
create an elite team of heroes, then somehow convince the gods to fight
alongside them. But first, they had to save Camp Jupiter.
The coastline began to look familiar. They raced past the Mendocino
lighthouse. Shortly afterward, Mount Tam and the Marin headlands loomed
out of the fog. Arion shot straight under the Golden Gate Bridge into San
Francisco Bay.
They tore through Berkeley and into the Oakland Hills. When they
reached the hilltop above the Caldecott Tunnel, Arion shuddered like a
broken car and came to a stop, his chest heaving.
Hazel patted his sides lovingly. "You did great, Arion."
The horse was too tired even to cuss: Of course I did great. What did
you expect?
Percy and Frank jumped off the chariot. Percy wished there'd been
comfortable seats or an in-flight meal. His legs were wobbly. His joints
were so stiff, he could barely walk. If he went into battle like this, the enemy
would call him Old Man Jackson.
Frank didn't look much better. He hobbled to the top of the hill and
peered down at the camp. "Guys…you need to see this."
When Percy and Hazel joined him, Percy's heart sank. The battle had
begun, and it wasn't going well. The Twelfth Legion was arrayed on the
Field of Mars, trying to protect the city. Scorpions fired into the ranks of the
Earthborn. Hannibal the elephant plowed down monsters right and left, but
the defenders were badly outnumbered.
On her pegasus Scipio, Reyna flew around the giant Polybotes, trying
to keep him occupied. The Lares had formed shimmering purple lines
against a mob of black, vaporous shades in ancient armor. Veteran
demigods from the city had joined the battle, and were pushing their shield
wall against an onslaught of wild centaurs. Giant eagles circled the
battlefield, doing aerial combat with two snake-haired ladies in green
Bargain Mart vests—Stheno and Euryale.
The legion itself was taking the brunt of the attack, but their formation
was breaking. Each cohort was an island in a sea of enemies. The
Cyclopes' siege tower shot glowing green cannonballs into the city,
blasting craters in the forum, reducing houses to ruins. As Percy watched,
a cannonball hit the Senate House and the dome partially collapsed.
"We're too late," Hazel said.
"No," Percy said. "They're still fighting. We can do this."
"Where's Lupa?" Frank asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
"She and the wolves…they should be here."
Percy thought about his time with the wolf goddess. He'd come to
respect her teachings, but he'd also learned that wolves had limits. They
weren't front-line fighters. They only attacked when they had vastly superior
numbers, and usually under the cover of darkness. Besides, Lupa's first
rule was self-sufficiency. She would help her children as much as she
could, train them to fight—but in the end, they were either predator or prey.
Romans had to fight for themselves. They had to prove their worth or die.
That was Lupa's way.
"She did what she could," Percy said. "She slowed down the army on
its way south. Now it's up to us. We've got to get the gold eagle and these
weapons to the legion."
"But Arion is out of steam!" Hazel said. "We can't haul this stuff
ourselves."
"Maybe we don't have to." Percy scanned the hilltops. If Tyson had
gotten his dream message in Vancouver, help might be close.
He whistled as loud as he could—a good New York cab whistle that
would've been heard all the way from Times Square to Central Park.
Shadows rippled in the trees. A huge black shape bounded out of
nowhere—a mastiff the size of an SUV, with a Cyclops and a harpy on her
back.
"Hellhound!" Frank scrambled backward.
"It's okay!" Percy grinned. "These are friends."
"Brother!" Tyson climbed off and ran toward Percy. Percy tried to
brace himself, but it was no good. Tyson slammed into him and smothered
him in a hug. For a few seconds, Percy could only see black spots and lots of flannel. Then Tyson let go and laughed with delight, looking Percy over
with that massive baby brown eye.
"You are not dead!" he said. "I like it when you are not dead!"
Ella fluttered to the ground and began preening her feathers. "Ella
found a dog," she announced. "A large dog. And a Cyclops."
Was she blushing? Before Percy could decide, his black mastiff
pounced on him, knocking Percy to the ground and barking so loudly that
even Arion backed up.
"Hey, Mrs. O'Leary," Percy said. "Yeah, I love you too, girl. Good dog."
Hazel made a squeaking sound. "You have a hellhound named Mrs.
O'Leary?""Long story." Percy managed to get to his feet and wipe off the
dog slobber. "You can ask your brother…"
His voice wavered when he saw Hazel's expression. He'd almost
forgotten that Nico di Angelo was missing.
Hazel had told him what Thanatos had said about searching for the
Doors of Death in Rome, and Percy was anxious to find Nico for his own
reasons—to wring the kid's neck for having pretended he didn't know
Percy when he first came to camp. Still, he was Hazel's brother, and
finding him was a conversation for another time.
"Sorry," he said. "But yeah, this is my dog, Mrs. O'Leary. Tyson—these
are my friends, Frank and Hazel."
Percy turned to Ella, who was counting all the barbs in one of her
feathers.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "We were worried about you."
"Ella is not strong," she said. "Cyclopes are strong. Tyson found Ella.
Tyson took care of Ella."
Percy raised his eyebrows. Ella was blushing.
"Tyson," he said, "you big charmer, you."
Tyson turned the same color as Ella's plumage. "Um…No." He leaned
down and whispered nervously, loud enough for all the others to hear: "She
is pretty."
Frank tapped his head like he was afraid his brain had short-circuited.
"Anyway, there's this battle happening."
"Right," Percy agreed. "Tyson, where's Annabeth? Is any other help
coming?"
Tyson pouted. His big brown eye got misty. "The big ship is not ready.
Leo says tomorrow, maybe two days. Then they will come."
"We don't have two minutes," Percy said. "Okay, here's the plan."
As quickly as possible, he pointed out which were the good guys and
the bad guys on the battlefield. Tyson was alarmed to learn that bad
Cyclopes and bad centaurs were in the giant's army. "I have to hit ponymen?"
"Just scare them away," Percy promised.
"Um, Percy?" Frank looked at Tyson with trepidation. "I just…don't
want our friend here getting hurt. Is Tyson afighter?"
Percy smiled. "Is he a fighter? Frank, you're looking at General Tyson
of the Cyclops army. And by the way, Tyson, Frank is a descendant of
Poseidon."
"Brother!" Tyson crushed Frank in a hug.
Percy stifled a laugh. "Actually he's more like a great-great-…Oh,
never mind. Yeah, he's your brother."
"Thanks," Frank mumbled through a mouthful of flannel. "But if the
legion mistakes Tyson for an enemy—"
" I've got it!" Hazel ran to the chariot and dug out the biggest Roman
helmet she could find, plus an old Roman banner embroidered with SPQR.
She handed them to Tyson. "Put those on, big guy. Then our friends
will know you're on our team."
"Yay!" Tyson said. "I'm on your team!"
The helmet was ridiculously small, and he put the cape on backward,
like a SPQR baby bib.
"It'll do," Percy said. "Ella, just stay here. Stay safe."
"Safe," Ella repeated. "Ella likes being safe. Safety in numbers. Safety
deposit boxes. Ella will go with Tyson."
"What?" Percy said. "Oh…fine. Whatever. Just don't get hurt. And Mrs.
O'Leary—"
"ROOOF!"
"How do you feel about pulling a chariot?"
Please review the 5th chapter onwards as the first 4 chapters are from the book.
