Chapter 1

Percy Meets His New Family Member

Percy's P.O.V.

Seriously, now my day was getting worse. Being chased by two snake - haired demon ladies was one thing. But a hippie lady had to hire me for a ride. And on the top of that, despite being so exhausted, I had to take the lady to a tunnel, where two armed people were standing. Great, two more people who can kill me. And that lady, June, she was not helping matters either. Who sings a lullaby like song, when you are being chased to death, and all you want to do is crash in the nearest bed?

I am Percy Jackson, and I thank whatever god is listening to me right now that at least I remember my name. Before that, I have no recollection of what I was. I woke up a few months back in Wolf House, Sonoma, where the wolf goddess Lupa told me that I'm a demigod, the son of a Roman God and a mortal. I didn't even remember who my mortal parent was. The only person I could remember was Annabeth. I didn't know who she was, but I remembered her face. Even imagining it, I felt some warmth deep inside me. Now Lupa trained me and told me to find, what did she call it? A safe haven, a camp, where I should go to serve Rome. I didn't know anything about Rome, but I moved towards the tunnel. The two guards saw me, then the snake haired ladies. One was a boy, an archer, like a cute cuddly bear. The other was a girl. The boy readied his bow. Just as one of the ladies, Eurayle was about to get me, he fired an arrow. On the good side, it bought me some time. On the bad side, Euryale was still alive. I reached the door. "Thanks," I told the guards. "Good shot."

"That should've killed her!" the archer protested.

"Welcome to my world," I muttered.

"Frank," the girl said. "Get them inside, quick! Those are gorgons."

"Gorgons?" The archer's voice squeaked. It was hard to tell much about him under the helmet, but he looked stout like a wrestler, maybe fourteen or fifteen. "Will the door hold them?"

In my arms, June cackled. "No, no it won't. Onward, Percy Jackson! Through the

tunnel, over the river!"

"Percy Jackson?" The female guard was darker-skinned, with curly hair sticking out

the sides of her helmet. She looked younger than Frank—maybe thirteen. Her sword scabbard came down almost to her ankle. Still, she sounded like she was the one in charge.

"Okay, you're obviously a demigod. But who's the—?" She glanced at June. "Never mind. Just get inside. I'll hold them off."

"Hazel," the boy said. "Don't be crazy."

"Go!" she demanded.

Frank cursed in another language—was that Latin?—and opened the door. "Come

on!"

I followed, staggering under the weight of the old lady, who was definitely getting

heavier. I didn't know how that girl Hazel would hold off the gorgons by herself, but I was too tired to argue. The tunnel cut through solid rock, about the width and height of a school hallway. At first, it looked like a typical maintenance tunnel, with electric cables, warning signs, and fuse boxes on the walls, lightbulbs in wire cages along the ceiling. As we ran deeper into the hillside, the cement floor changed to tiled mosaic. The lights changed to reed torches, which burned but didn't smoke. A few hundred yards ahead, I saw a square of daylight.

The old lady was heavier now than a pile of sandbags. My arms shook from the

strain. June mumbled a song in Latin, like a lullaby, which didn't help me concentrate.

Behind us, the gorgons' voices echoed in the tunnel. Hazel shouted. I was tempted to dump June and run back to help, but then the entire tunnel shook with the

rumble of falling stone. There was a squawking sound, just like the gorgons had made when I dropped a crate of bowling balls on them in Napa. I glanced back. The west end of the tunnel was now filled with dust.

"Shouldn't we check on Hazel?" I asked.

"She'll be okay—I hope," Frank said. "She's good underground. Now come on. We're almost there."

I was puzzled. "Almost where?" I asked.

The lady in my arms chuckled. "All roads lead there, child. You should know that."

"Detention," I mused.

"No, child. Rome."

Finally, at least I knew that I was going on the right path. We reached the end of the tunnel and stepped out. Immediately, I felt as if I'd stepped into a different world. It was California, I knew that. But it felt like a secret world, like the one in a fairy tale movie. But the geography was completely different from a fairyland. There were live oaks and eucalyptus trees, gold hills and blue skies. That big inland mountain—what was it called, Mount Diablo?—rose in the distance, right where it should be. In the center of the valley, nestled by the lake, was a small city of white marble buildings with red-tiled roofs. Some had domes and columned porticoes, like national monuments. Others looked like palaces, with golden doors and large gardens. I could see an open plaza with freestanding columns, fountains, and statues. A five-story-tall Roman coliseum gleamed in the sun, next to a long

oval arena like a racetrack.

Across the lake to the south, another hill was dotted with even more impressive

buildings—temples, I guessed. Several stone bridges crossed the river as it wound through the valley, and in the north, a long line of brickwork arches stretched from the hills into the town. I thought it looked like an elevated train track. Then I realized it

must be an aqueduct. The strangest part of the valley was right below me. About two hundred yards away, just across the river, was some sort of military encampment. It was about a quarter mile

square, with earthen ramparts on all four sides, the tops lined with sharpened spikes. Outside the walls ran a dry moat, also studded with spikes. Wooden watchtowers rose at each corner, manned by sentries with oversized, mounted crossbows. Purple banners hung

from the towers. A wide gateway opened on the far side of camp, leading toward the city. A narrower gate stood closed on the riverbank side. Inside, the fortress bustled with activity: dozens of kids going to and from barracks, carrying weapons, polishing armor. I heard the clank of hammers at a forge and smelled meat cooking over a fire. Something about this place felt very familiar, yet not quite right.

"Camp Jupiter," Frank said. "We'll be safe once—"

Suddenly, Hazel burst through the tunnel, covered in dust.

"Come on fast. I slowed them down, but they will be reaching here soon. Let's go to camp," she panted.

"We'd have to cross the river," Frank said.

"Oh yes, Percy Jackson, make sure my dress doesn't get wet," June said.

How tempting it was to dump her in the river, but I marched on, the effort straining my limbs. We reached the river. I waited to catch my breath.

"Hazel, go take Percy with you. The sentries won't harm him if you're with him. I'll hold the hag ladies," Frank said, nocking two arrows.

Hazel nodded, and urged me forward.

"Wait, Percy Jackson. This is the Little Tiber. If you cross it, you won't have the Mark of Achilles. A Greek blessing won't enter a Roman territory. So what will you choose, safety or pain?" June asked sympathetically.

"So, I won't be having iron skin then?" I mused. The snake ladies talons never hurt me, because of whatever this Mark of Achilles was. Of course, safety sounded good, but I thought about Annabeth. I had to find her and my identity. My old life, and for that, there was only one way. I stepped into the river. It's current was strong, I thought it would be very difficult to cross, but as soon as I stepped in the river, newfound strength seeped into my veins. By the time I crossed the river many kids had gathered at the gates of the camp. Hazel looked happy but suddenly her face darkened as though she had seen a ghost.

She pointed behind me, and as I turned I saw one of the ladies grab Frank by the arm. He was cornered and he won't make it here unless….

I placed the lady on the ground and rushed to the side of the river. I knew I could do this. I concentrated and thrust my hands upward. The water obeyed my will, and it morphed into two fists. I managed to make the fists grab the snake ladies, but I was exhausted. Then, a girl came running from the group of campers and stood beside the river bank, a few feet away from me. She concentrated and repeated the same action done by me. Suddenly, handling the water seemed so easy.

She turned her face towards me. She seemed of my age, about sixteen. Her eyes were the same shade as mine. She had medium hair, tied back in a dutch braid. Her skin was fair, and her face had a bold and courageous look. She locked eyes with me, giving a clear message - Do what you want to do. I got your back.

I balled my fists, and the water did the same, crushing the Gorgons. They burst into yellow powder and the river carried them away.

Frank crossed the river and Hazel and the girl rushed towards him. I followed their example.

"You okay?" Hazel asked.

"Yeah, thanks for the save, you two," Frank said, giving me and the girl a thumbs-up. I turned towards the campers. Everyone was staring at me and the girl. Only June looked as though this was a perfectly normal situation.

"Well, this was a lovely trip. Thank you, Percy Jackson, for bringing me to Camp Jupiter," she chuckled.

One of the girls made a choking sound. "Percy…Jackson?"

She sounded as if she recognized his name. I focused on her, hoping to see a familiar face. She was obviously a leader. She wore a regal purple cloak over her armor. Her chest was decorated with medals. She must have been about my age, with dark, piercing eyes and long black hair. I didn't recognize her, but the girl stared at me as if she'd seen me in her nightmares.

June laughed with delight. "Oh, yes. You'll have such fun together!"

Then, just because the day hadn't been weird enough already, the old lady began to glow and change form. She grew until she was a shining, seven-foot-tall goddess in a blue dress, with a cloak that looked like goat's skin over her shoulders. Her face was stern and stately. In her hand was a staff topped with a lotus flower. If it was possible for the campers to look more stunned, they did. The girl with the purple cloak knelt. The others followed her lead. One kid got down so hastily he almost

impaled himself on his sword.

The girl who had helped me in controlling water was the first to speak. "Juno," she said the word, falling onto her knees with Frank and Hazel.

"Oh yes, Natalie Carter, how well do you recognise me. I have brought you a replacement. A brother for a brother. Romans, I bring to you Percy Jackson, the Son of Neptune," she said in a regal voice.

Several people gasped. Natalie glanced at me once, maintaining an excellent poker face. I didn't know what Juno had meant by replacement, but it was clear that Natalie was a daughter of Neptune, which meant she was my sister.

"Juno, huh? Well, if I did you a favour, why don't you give me my memory back?" I asked her. After carrying her, I didn't feel like showing her much respect, even though she was a goddess.

"In time, Percy Jackson. But first, you must face the upcoming challenge. You must succeed here at camp. Romans, Percy's fate is in your hands. The Feast of Fortune comes quickly, and Death must be unleashed if you are to stand any hope in the battle. Do not fail me!"

Juno shimmered and disappeared. I looked at Hazel, Frank or Natalie for some kind of explanation, but they seemed just as confused as I was. Frank was holding something I hadn't noticed before—two small clay flasks with cork stoppers, like potions, one in each hand. I had no idea where they'd come from, but I saw Frank slip them into his pockets. Frank gave him a look like: We'll talk about it later. Natalie didn't meet my eyes too, she stared fixedly at the leader girl.

The girl in the purple cloak stepped forward. She examined me warily, and I couldn't shake the feeling that she wanted to run me through with her dagger.

"So," she said coldly, "a son of Neptune, who comes to us with the blessing of Juno."

"Look," I said, "my memory's a little fuzzy. Um, it's gone, actually. Do I know you?"

The girl hesitated. "I am Reyna, praetor of the Twelfth Legion. And…no, I don't know

you."

That last part was a lie. I could tell from her eyes. But I also understood that if

I argued with her about it here, in front of her soldiers, she wouldn't appreciate it.

"Hazel, Natalie," said Reyna, "bring him inside. I want to question him at the principia. Then we'll send him to Octavian. We must consult the auguries before we decide what to do with him."

"What do you mean," I asked, "'decide what to do with' me?"

Reyna's hand tightened on her dagger. Obviously she was not used to having her

orders questioned. "Before we accept anyone into camp, we must interrogate them and read the auguries. Juno said your fate is in our hands. We have to know whether the goddess has brought us as a new recruit.…" Reyna studied me as if she found that doubtful.

"Or," she said more hopefully, "if she's brought us an enemy to kill."