"Hazel Levesque," she called, "so glad you could join us."
Hazel knew better than to respond. She was missing most of her
equipment, but she hurried to her place in line next to Frank and stood at
attention. Their lead centurion, a big seventeen-year-old guy named
Dakota, was just calling her name—the last one on the roll.
"Present!" she squeaked.
Thank the gods. Technically, she wasn't late.
Nico joined Percy Jackson, who was standing off to one side with a
couple of guards. Percy's hair was wet from the baths. He'd put on fresh
clothes, but he still looked uncomfortable. Hazel couldn't blame him. He
was about to be introduced to two hundred heavily armed kids. Sage's short brown hair was dripping wet, and had shed her torn hoodie and jeans for a camp jupiter t-shirt and a half on - half off jacket. She was grinning her cocky I-just-stole-your-wallet-and-you-still-don't-notice grin too.
The Lares were the last ones to fall in. Their purple forms flickered as
they jockeyed for places. They had an annoying habit of standing halfway
inside living people, so that the ranks looked like a blurry photograph, but
finally the centurions got them sorted out.
Octavian shouted, "Colors!"
The standard-bearers stepped forward. They wore lion-skin capes and
held poles decorated with each cohort's emblems. The last to present his
standard was Jacob, the legion's eagle bearer. He held a long pole with
absolutely nothing on top. The job was supposed to be a big honor, but
Jacob obviously hated it. Even though Reyna insisted on following
tradition, every time the eagleless pole was raised, Hazel could feel
embarrassment rippling through the legion.
Reyna brought her pegasus to a halt.
"Romans!" she announced. "You've probably heard about the incursion
today. Two gorgons were swept into the river by this newcomer, Percy
Jackson. Juno herself guided him here, and proclaimed him a son of
Neptune. Also a young daughter of mercury came too, Miss Zane, Sage Xenia Zane"
The kids in the back rows craned their necks to see Percy and Sage. He raised
his hand and said, "Hi." Sage just nodded.
"They seek to join the legion," Reyna continued. "What do the auguries
say?"
"I have read the entrails!" Octavian announced, as if he'd killed a lion
with his bare hands rather than ripping up a stuffed panda pillow. "The
auguries are favorable. they are qualified to serve!"
The campers gave a shout: "Ave!" Hail!
Frank was a little late with his "ave," so it came out as a high-pitched
echo. The other legionnaires snickered.
Reyna motioned the senior officers forward—one from each cohort. Octavian, as the most senior centurion, turned to Percy and Sage.
"Recruits," he asked, "do you have credentials? Letters of reference?"
Hazel remembered this from her own arrival. A lot of kids brought
letters from older demigods in the outside world, adults who were veterans
of the camp. Some recruits had rich and famous sponsors. Some were
third- or fourth-generation campers. A good letter could get you a position
in the better cohorts, sometimes even special jobs like legion messenger,
which made you exempt from the grunt work like digging ditches or
conjugating Latin verbs.
Percy shifted. "Letters? Um, no." Sage stuck her tongue out at Octavian.
Octavian wrinkled his nose. Sage grinned
Unfair! Hazel wanted to shout. Percy had carried a goddess into
camp. What better recommendation could you want?
But Octavian's family had been sending kids to camp for over a
century. He loved reminding recruits that they were less important than he
was.
"No letters," Octavian said regretfully. "Will any legionnaires stand for
them?"
"I will!" Frank stepped forward. "He saved my life!"
Immediately there were shouts of protest from the other cohorts.
Reyna raised her hand for quiet and glared at Frank.
"Frank Zhang," she said, "for the second time today, I remind you that
you are on probatio. Your godly parent has not even claimed you yet.
You're not eligible to stand for another camper until you've earned your first
stripe."
Frank looked like he might die of embarrassment.
Hazel couldn't leave him hanging. She stepped out of line and said,
"What Frank means is that Percy saved both our lives. I am a full member
of the legion. I will stand for Sage Zane and Percy Jackson."
Frank glanced at her gratefully, but the other campers started to mutter. Hazel was barely eligible. She'd only gotten her stripe a few weeks
ago, and the "act of valor" that earned it for her had been mostly an
accident. Besides, she was a daughter of Pluto, and a member of the
disgraced Fifth Cohort. She wasn't doing Sage and Percy much of a favor by giving
him her support.
Reyna wrinkled her nose, but she turned to Octavian. The augur smiled
and shrugged, like the idea amused him. Why not? Hazel thought. Putting Percy in the Fifth would make him
less of a threat, and Octavian liked to keep all his enemies in one place.
"Very well," Reyna announced. "Hazel Levesque, you may stand for the
recruit. Does your cohort accept him?"
The other cohorts started coughing, trying not to laugh. Hazel knew
what they were thinking: Another loser for the Fifth.
Frank pounded his shield against the ground. The other members of
the Fifth followed his lead, though they didn't seem very excited. Their
centurions, Dakota and Gwen, exchanged pained looks, like: Here we go
again.
"My cohort has spoken," Dakota said. "We accept the recruit."
Reyna looked at Percy with pity. "Congratulations, Percy Jackson, Sage Zane. You
stand on probatio. You will be given a tablet with your name and cohort. In
one year's time, or as soon as you complete an act of valor, you will
become a full member of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. Serve Rome, obey
the rules of the legion, and defend the camp with honor. Senatus
Populusque Romanus!"
The rest of the legion echoed the cheer.
Reyna wheeled her pegasus away from Percy, like she was glad to be
done with him. Skippy spread his beautiful wings. Hazel couldn't help
feeling a pang of envy. She'd give anything for a horse like that, but it would
never happen. Horses were for officers only, or barbarian cavalry, not for
Roman legionnaires.
"Centurions," Reyna said, "you and your troops have one hour for
dinner. Then we will meet on the Field of Mars. The First and Second
Cohorts will defend. The Third, Fourth, and Fifth will attack. Good fortune!"
A bigger cheer went up—for the war games and for dinner. The
cohorts broke ranks and ran for the mess hall.
Hazel waved at Percy, who made his way through the crowd with Nico
at his side. To Hazel's surprise, Nico was beaming at her.
"Good job, Sis," he said. "That took guts, standing for him."
He had never called her Sis before. She wondered if that was what he
had called Bianca.
One of the guards had given Percy his probatio nameplate. Percy
strung it on his leather necklace with the strange beads. Sage was flicking her own tablet.
"Thanks, Hazel," she said. "Um, what exactly does it mean—your
standing for me?"
"I guarantee your good behavior," Hazel explained. "I teach you the
rules, answer your questions, make sure you don't disgrace the legion."
"And...if I do something wrong?"
"Then I get killed along with you," Hazel said. "Hungry? Let's eat."
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 favorite 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.
Hazel expected Sage to eat like how she imagined a street kid would, but actually Sage grinned bashfully at Percy and asked if she could try his soda. Then suddenly she had to duck, a flying plate of waffles nearly hit her. If her eyes could get any bigger, sage would have died.
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 rumors about who liked whom and all the
other gossip.
As usual, the Fifth Cohort took the place of least honor. 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. "Iwas
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 offense."
"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 gotten 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 gotten her a full place in
the legion, but it had also started rumors about her strange powers—
rumors 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?" Sage asked, almost as if she 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 rumors. Not saying that I do."
"Rumors?" 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
toward 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 favorite 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!"
Sage 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?"Sage 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."
Sage'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." Sage cackled.
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." Sage 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..."
Sage 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, Iwant 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 poison 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," Sage said.
Hazel was stunned. "How'd you know?"
Sage 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 Sage again. When
she'd first arrived, Hazel'd thought he was a little goofy from the questions
she'd asked—about the Feast of Tuna and all—but clearly she was smarter
than she let on.
"You're right," Hazel 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?" Sage 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 gotten
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?" Sage asked over the noise, Hazel forgot she was there because she was quiet for so long, playing with her jacket. "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!"