Chapter 51

I Fly Snake Air First Class

My day was going great. Until it wasn't.

We were at a beach— Victoria, Po, and I. Just North of us the Golden Gate Bridge rose hundreds of feet into a cloudy sky. It would've been a nice day for sightseeing, dogs running after tennis balls and families munching on picnics spread across beach towels. Unfortunately for us, we weren't there for the views.

The mission sheet called it an Ophis Pterotos. I remembered it as a big snake with wings, because that was what it was. From a poisonous bite to outgrowing horses, it was exactly the sort of terrifying monster that made being a demigod such a sweat-inducing experience. Since it stopped off in SF on its migration route, three kids from the Iron Regiment had stumbled back to base with bite wounds big enough to make you queasy. One never made it back at all. So here we were, a three demigod strike team with orders to make an XXXL snakeskin.

Only we couldn't find it.

"You're sure this is the place?"

In front of me, Victoria scowled. She crinkled a sheet of paper in her hands, scanning it for what had to be the hundredth time. "It's where the report says."

"Sure. But what if the report is wrong?"

"Less talking," she said. "More looking."

That wasn't really the answer I was hoping for. Considering I was about at my limit for 'looking', I turned to our third.

"Anything luck over there?"

At my question, Po turned from where he'd been examining a copse of trees, his ski mask shaking.

Po's battle gear was a little bit different to any I'd seen before. Cargo pants, a hoodie, and the ski mask that never came off — all black, of course — made him look more like a bank robber than a hero. A bandolier wrapped from his shoulder to his waist, little celestial bronze throwing stars fastened to it. The only shoes he would wear were sandals, and not even the modern kind. I wasn't convinced those platformed wooden blocks even qualified as shoes.

"Not a trace," he said. "Their stealth eludes even me."

I groaned. Golden Gate Beach wasn't long, and we'd already done two full laps of it. "You'd think it would be hard hiding a snake the size of a car."

Victoria kicked sand before stuffing the mission sheet in her pocket. The three of us grouped up and started down the beach again. None of us had much hope left.

There were a few kids playing in the sand, but only dogs were willing to crash into the surf. That was one thing I still couldn't get used to about the West Coast: the ocean was cold. Apparently. Water always felt fine to me, but everyone else swore it was freezing, and staring down the beach the proof was right there, nobody in deeper than their ankles.

"So… What happens if we can't find these things?"

My question hung in the air as Victoria took a measured breath.

"We have to," she said. "They're just starting to trust us. We can't waste that."

It was true. In the two months since we returned from Alaska with a Hyperborean army at our back, things had changed. I'm sure the Competition also played a part, but after the Feat the missions the Bronze Regiment got really changed. Instead of clearing Drakon-pies, we got border patrol. Rather than scratching the itchy spots on Atlas's back, we were sent to wipe out renegade monsters. None of us were itching to go back to the way things had been before.

"Do you think they'll hold it against us if we fail? They're the ones that told us this was the place, and I mean…" I waved my arms at the air. "There's nothing here."

"I won't take that chance," Victoria said. A second later she added, almost to herself, "Not when she's finally starting to notice."

"She? You mean your mom?"

Victoria didn't answer, but she did give a terse nod.

"Don't tell me you still want to make her proud…"

Months ago, before I left for Alaska, Victoria had told me about her past. Between absenteeism, maiming, and general betrayal, Nike seemed like the last goddess in the world who deserved a Mother's Day gift– and that was counting Hera who tossed a newborn off Olympus.

Fortunately, Victoria grimaced. "Hell no. I couldn't care less about doing things her way. But when she turned her back on me, she expected me to fail. That without her, I would be a loser forever. I plan on spoiling that every chance I get. We're on a winning streak now. I won't let it end here."

From the other side of her, Po gave a round of applause.

"Well put, Captain," he said. "Proving family wrong. Always a worthy goal."

"Yeah, well…" Victoria set her eyes down the beach. "I still have to follow through."

"What do we know about these things, anyway?" I asked. "Flying, oversized snake. Got that. But is there anything else? Camouflage, maybe? Invisibility?"

"There shouldn't be," Victoria said. "They guarded Frankincense trees in Arabia. Every spring they would migrate West, but Ibises would attack and stop them in Egypt. Now that there aren't any birds this one doesn't seem to know what to do— once it got as far West as the coast, it just stopped and stayed."

"Maybe it already left for Hawaii?" I tried hopefully.

"Maybe," Victoria said. She didn't sound convinced.

We passed a little girl around eight digging in the sand with a toy shovel. I put my thinking helmet on and really focused.

"The target must be hiding itself," Po said.

"Where?" I gestured down the beach. "It's a little too big to fit inside a kid's sandcastle."

"Perhaps it's out hunting?

"The timing is wrong," Victoria said. She patted the pocket the mission briefing was stuffed into. "They go after prey in the morning or the evening. Right now, it should be sleeping."

I counted off on my fingers. "Lives in the desert, should be here taking a nap, but we can't find it. Gee, I wonder what the answer–" I cut off, freezing. "Wait a minute. Could it be–"

I never got the chance to finish. Behind us, the little girl we'd passed started to cry.

"Mooommmmmy!" she wailed, dropping her toy shovel. "I ran into a wallll."

I spun around. In the pit the little girl had dug, just a few feet deep, one wall of sand had fallen away to reveal something different. The surface was blue and solid like stone… or scales.

The sand erupted.

I've seen a lot of scary stuff in my life. So when I say those gaping jaws made me want to put a wet spot in my boxers, that shows how horrifying it was.

The smell hit first, like a thousand drowned mice left to stew in a dumpster. Fangs longer than swords pulled apart, two on the top jaw and two along the bottom. Between them layers and layers of pink ridges lined a throat large enough to swallow a bike in one gulp.

I was a second away from being eaten whole when Po yanked me to the ground.

The serpent shot overhead, biting nothing but air.

"Thanks," I managed, scrambling to my feet and drawing Anfisa. "I owe you one."

"There are no debts between comrades," Po said. "Only camaraderie."

I thought that sounded a little redundant, but kept it to myself so we would be even.

Up and down the beach mortals were screaming. Whatever they saw was at least as big and fast as the real monster, and it was causing a panic.

Speaking of, the three of us had bigger things to worry about.

The Ophis Pterotos had flipped around midair with agility that, really, just wasn't fair. And it was steaming straight toward us like a grain silo with teeth.

"Split!" Victoria yelled.

Each of us ran a different direction. When the snake snapped at where we'd been stood it came up with nothing but sand, hissing angrily. That would've made me feel better if it didn't immediately slither after me, coming about four times faster than I could sprint.

I turned to face it. Luckily the mortals had cleared out, so I wouldn't have to worry about any of them getting crushed. Which meant all I had I had to worry about getting myself crushed.

The serpent wasn't bothering to fly anymore. It rushed me along the ground, gaping jaws coming in for a second round.

I struck its tooth with my sword but only made a tiny chip. Still, it must've hurt. The Ophis Pterotos thrashed, turning away and swiping with its tail, a couple hundred pounds of snake-turned-club.

I just managed to roll under. It still clipped my shoulder, and I spun away, Anfisa coming out of my hands. Victoria leaped at the serpent's other side and it wriggled away too fast to catch. Throwing stars flew from down the beach, only to clink off its armor-like scales. The serpent glared at us from its slit eyes, more angry than actually hurt.

"The skin is too tough!" Victoria shouted to Po. "You need to aim for the eyes!"

"A simple task," Po said. He flicked his wrist, and throwing stars flew out. They were good shots… right up until the snake moved its head and the weapons sailed harmlessly down the beach.

The attack had definitely gotten its attention though. It charged down the beach, straight past Victoria and I like we didn't exist.

"Watch out!" I shouted.

Somehow, Po was alright. As the snake went swallow him he kicked off its lower jaw, boosting himself up before planting his hands on its forehead and pushing off, spinning over it with a flip. If I was a gymnastics judge, I would've given him the gold medal then and there.

"How'd he do that?" I wondered.

"Focus," Victoria said.

She was casting looks at the parking lot. Most of the mortals had cleared out, but sirens were starting to wail in the distance. Speaking from experience, we didn't want to be there when the cops arrived. Somehow I'd end up getting all the blame.

"We need a plan," I decided.

Victoria raised her sword, preparing to charge. "If you've got any ideas…"

I watched Po bob and weave, dodging around the beach. He was doing amazing, but there was only so long he could go on. His back was to the water now, cutting off one side.

Which meant he was in the perfect position.

"Stay still!" I shouted.

If somebody said to freeze while a monster was bearing down on me, the last thing on my mind would be listening. I'd probably keep running the same way I had been, thinking of some choice names to call them as I did. Luckily, Po was different.

Maybe it was the trust I'd earned turning things around for the Bronze Regiment. More likely it went down too fast for him to react. He stood there, totally still, while a wave punched over his head, mashing the Ophis Pterotos into the beach and drenching it in saltwater.

I'd only meant to slow it down. Instead, its body convulsed as if in pain.

By the time it recovered, Po had scampered away. The three of us watched the monster warily.

"What was that?" I asked. "It was like I hurt it, like it–"

"Was in danger of dying," Victoria finished. "What could–" Her eyes widened. "That's it! The cold!"

"You think the monster got chilly? Like he forgot his fleece under the sand?"

"Drench it again!" Victoria said, ignoring me. "Quickly!"

I had mixed feelings about being treated like a fire hydrant, but I made the surf surge.

Again the snake spasmed. It hissed like a tire losing air. Its tail smashed the ground.

"Now!"

Victoria charged. I started to follow, but she shouted, "Don't! Keep the water on it! It might be big, but it's still a snake. It can't take the cold!"

I was no biologist, but I'd looked in enough reptile cages at pet stores when I was younger to get what she meant. They needed glowing heat lamps to keep their body temperature up, since they couldn't regulate it themselves. When I drenched the Ophis Pterotos I wasn't just making it chilly, I was literally sapping its strength, shutting its body down.

As Victoria closed in you could see it. Instead of a lightning-fast bite, the snake could only shift out of the way. Victoria kept after it, closing in for its face, aiming for the weak spot of its eyes.

But the snake wasn't done yet. It coiled and struck, swiping its tail. Victoria was forced to jump back. She didn't look disappointed.

"Now's the chance!" she yelled. "Take it!"

All of us realized what she was after at the same time, including the snake. Po had a clear shot at its face, too close now for it to dodge or escape with how sluggish it had grown. The monster's slit eyes narrowed. If snakes could show fear, this one was.

Po didn't move.

"What are you waiting for?" Victoria shouted.

"We can finish it a different way," Po said. He pointed at the beady eyes locked onto him. "It has seen me coming."

Victoria gaped. "Who cares if it's looking? You just have to rush in!"

"I refuse. That is not how a shinobi fights."

"Are you kidding me–"

It was too late. The snake had seen its opening. Its wings stretched. With a noise like thunder, it took off into the air.

I wasn't letting it go that easy. I sprinted, summoning back the water from the waves. Just when I was underneath the monster, I let the water surge up, taking me with it.

Demigod reflexes never stop being handy. One day they're keeping you from having your head taken off, the next they're letting you snag a snake tail thirty feet up to keep from plummeting back to the ground.

"Percy!" Victoria said below me. "Don't let go!"

"Hadn't been planning on it!" I called back, but the words were lost on the wind. The Ophis Pterotos was getting higher and higher, me along with it.

The scales were cold and slick. The skin of my palm burned from holding on for all I was worth. Worried I would slip and plummet, I did something that may or may not have been very dumb.

I sliced its wing.

A plume of feathers puffed into the air. The snake shrieked and hissed, the angle of its flight changing. Rather than gaining elevation, we started to lose it.

We zoomed over Chrissy Field, angled past red-roofed buildings and green grassy vistas of the Golden Gate. The 101 appeared in front of us, four lanes of crowded traffic. The Ophis Pterotos swerved left out of the path of a double-decker open-topped bus and a few tourists pointed, one snapping a picture. I might've flashed a peace sign if letting go hadn't meant dropping into oncoming traffic.

The crash landing came on the opposite side of the freeway, in a field filled with rows of marble tombstones. The Ophis Pterotos hit face-first, digging a trench with its body. Just before we hit the ground I let go and tried to roll through the impact, which helped, I think, even if I still felt the wind smash out of me.

I coughed, staggering to my feet. "Gods that hurt. Couldn't you have landed a little smoother?"

The snake raised its head, clods of dirt dropping off, and bared its fangs as if to say Who was it that cut my wing?

"Point," I said, glad the graveyard was empty enough that there wasn't an audience to see my one-sided conversation. I probably looked crazy enough as it was without adding fuel to the fire.

The snake staggered up, swaying from the beating it had taken. Anfisa morphed with a tap, Anthea coming into shape. We tensed, ready to bring our fight to its finish.

I never got to take a step. The Ophis Pterotos thrashed backward. It bucked, trying to throw something off of it. As I stared, a hand appeared on its side, skeletal and bony.

It wasn't just one, either. More skeletal limbs grasped the monster, holding on. Holes in the earth split, graves tearing open. Faster and faster the occupants crawled out, burying the serpent underneath an undead mound.

The snake lashed out, biting two in half. The dead crawled inside, forcing their way down its throat. But the snake was used to swallowing prey whole— a fleshy tube opened along its bottom gum to suck in air.

Then the dead found that, too, and plugged it with their bodies. The snake jerked and fought. It thrashed and twisted. Finally, it stopped moving entirely. The monster thudded to the ground, breaking apart into dust.

On the other side, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, Bianca Di Angelo stood with her hands in her pockets next to a pit filled with soda and floating junk food. Her eyes had bags under them and the air around her flickered slightly, like she was sweating mist. She cocked her head, brown ponytail swaying.

"What was that about being able to manage this one without me?"

OOO

On the way back to base Po did the impossible: he fell asleep in a car Victoria was driving.

We zoomed south in the 101's left lane before swerving right, whipping past a pickup that was going at least five over the speed limit.

"And stay out of the way," Victoria muttered as she moved back into the left lane. The speedometer dial hovered above 90.

The car we'd been loaned for the mission was a Toyota SUV. It looked clean from the outside, but the interior smelled like a group of Empousai used it for a beach trip, which was to say wet goat fur and old oil. Victoria said it handled well, which was probably saving our lives. Every time she got on a freeway she saw it like a race— other drivers, traffic laws, physics… she refused to lose to any of them.

With Po out cold in the passenger seat and Victoria lost in her one-sided Grand Prix, the backseat was quiet. Bianca stared out the window. I had been, too, but something was bothering me. Finally I couldn't hold it in.

"Any luck?" I asked.

Bianca looked at me. "With?"

"I saw the pit."

She frowned, but didn't seem surprised. "Nico says hi."

"How is he?"

"Dead," Bianca said bluntly. She sighed and shook her head. "But… cheerful. He was happy to see me. He said things are pretty chaotic down there, but he's doing fine. Making friends. Good weather."

Nico had made it into Elysium in record time. Almost like an apology for a runaway judge of the dead being the one to kill him. Bianca summoned him any chance she got, and he was always happy to visit. Unfortunately, the process involved a whole lot of spare food and something to pour it into, and the dryads in charge of landscaping around Mt. Orthrys hadn't taken kindly to cleaning up after rituals. So Bianca was forced to tag along on missions whenever she was in the mood for a little family conversation.

"Any word on Minos?"

"The spirits don't know anything." Bianca's fingers dug into the upholstery. "No matter how many I call on, none can tell me anything. Or, nothing except what a mess he made. With a judge of the dead missing the spirit lines are getting out of control. They've already backed up all the way to the Styx. The Furies are working triple overtime to manage things. They take it out on the ghosts, and then the ghosts whine about it to me. It's as unhelpful as it is annoying."

"Your dad won't go easy on Minos once he gets a hold of him. Forget getting his job back, he'll be lucky if he doesn't end up tossed into the Fields of Punishment."

"Minos has something bigger to worry about."

"Which is?"

"Me."

I took her in. Since losing Nico, Bianca had changed. Not much, and it wasn't always obvious, but it was there. Sometimes her laughs sounded forced. Her skin had gotten paler, everywhere except under the eyes where permanent bags had formed. Her hair was always slightly less brushed, and fighting had become her go-to solution. Just the week before a Gold Regiment kid made the mistake of telling her off for summoning ghosts too close to their base. He ended up buried to the neck in dirt. It took his friends hours to dig him out.

But the biggest change was in moments. Every once in a while something would bleed through, cold and furious. The light coming in through the car windows flickered. The air turned chilly, smelled like deep earth and death. I'm not afraid to admit it. At times like this, Bianca scared me a little.

Just like always, it faded quickly. Bianca leaned back against her headrest, eyes returning to the window.

"Besides," she said, "I don't think Minos is planning on dealing with my father ever again. He's picked his side. Just look at his… connections."

She lowered her voice for the last word. I'd told her everything about the cloaked man, both Prometheus and Luke and what each of them wanted. It didn't seem right to keep it to myself when her life was on the line too.

It wasn't something we wanted to go advertising, though. Loyalty was tricky with the Titans. Something about getting set up, then set up, then set up again really hammered that in. So for now it was our little secret, even from the rest of the regiment.

"It's risky for him," I said. "He's trusting the Titans to win the war quickly, and for them to keep their promises."

Bianca shrugged. "Aren't you the same?"

I didn't answer. It was a little too true.

Bianca watched me from the corner of her eye. "It's still on the table you know," she said suddenly. "My offer."

Right away, I couldn't make eye contact. "I'm thinking about it."

"It wouldn't be hard. I could make it happen any time."

"I believe you."

"I know it can be scary. You wonder what they'll say, what they'll be like. But trust me, it's better in the end. You can talk things out, make sure that what you're doing for them is actually for them, and not just for—"

"I get it," I interrupted. "Really, I do. It's just… give me some time."

Bianca was facing me now, watching carefully. I didn't like how deep her brown eyes seemed to see, like they had X-ray vision. She opened her mouth, maybe to keep arguing, when the entire car swerved.

My seatbelt braced across my neck. I jerked forward, head ramming the driver seat. Po smashed into the passenger-side door. The car spun with a squeal of tires, barely braking before the concrete median.

I groaned, rolling my throbbing shoulders. "Everybody okay?"

Po was still seeing stars. Bianca moaned. "Victoria, maybe calm down with the driving?"

Victoria had taken things the worst. Her nose had hit the steering wheel, blood running freely from it. She spun to look back at us, eyes wide.

"That wasn't my fault," she said. "Didn't you see him?"

"See who?" I asked.

"Look!"

Victoria undid her seat belt and darted out of the car. Bianca and I traded looks before following.

When we stepped outside, I realized it wasn't just us who had come to a harsh halt.

Cars were strewn around the 101. A big rig had swerved like we did and tipped over, spilling tomatoes across the road. Five cars had rear-ended each other across the two lanes. One Corolla had turned so fast toward the shoulder, it drove straight off and got stuck in a lurch.

And in the middle of it all was the cause. Standing on the dotted white line, right in the middle of the freeway, was a boy not much older than I was.

There was something strange about his face. His features cycled– eyes going from brown to green to blue, a hooked nose becoming a stubby one before averaging out. His hair lengthened and shortened. I didn't get the feeling his actual form was changing, more like he was wearing a million-in-one mask to hide his real face.

I was so busy looking at his appearance, it took me a minute to realize he was facing us.

"Heroes," he said, voice dry but powerful. I got the feeling he was reading from a script rather than speaking from heart. "Athletes. Competitors. We, the Theoroi, have come to spread the word. At long, long last the time is come. Prove yourselves! Answer the call! The Panhellenic Games begin, and all are invited!"

Mortals were starting to stumble out of their cars. A few pointed and whispered. One guy with a bruise above his eye stalked right up to the teen.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" The guy waved his hand at the carnage across the road. "All this? It's your fault. You don't just stand in freeways for Christ sake! Where are your parents?"

The teen didn't take his eyes off us. "One week! In seven days the torches will be lit, the athletes collected. It is the chance of a lifetime. Do not be late."

"Don't you ignore me!"

"Don't!" Victoria shouted.

It was too late. The guy started to grab the teen and twist him around, but the teen grabbed him first. As if he was barely trying, he threw a guy twice his size through the air. The guy flew so far that he landed on the hood of the crashed Corolla, a good twenty feet back.

Anfisa formed. At my back, my friends drew their weapons. Whatever the guy was, he was dangerous.

If the weapons worried the teen, he didn't show it. He picked up where he left off, as if the thrown mortal was a bug he'd swatted, or maybe even less.

"Why take only my word for it, when it can be seen. Look, and judge its splendor."

He clapped once, and scenes washed over me.

It was as if a television had been inserted straight into my eyeball, turned to promotional material. Inspirational music with lots of drums played in the background. Images flickered past, artistic scenes of a brazier, of rows of torches, of demigods and nature spirits and monsters wrestling and racing in togas.

Then came new scenes. A viewer's box stuffed with lavish seats glittering jewels. It was positioned along the top row of a coliseum, one silver-haired man standing at the front with arms braced over the railing, a look of pure pride on his face. Then it was a lounge, one with serving girls and cushioned chairs. Two women sat side by side, polar opposites. One had bright blond hair and glittering gold eyes, the exact shade I saw whenever I looked at Victoria. The other woman's hair was void-black, her skin paler than a ghost's, her eyes somehow darker than her hair. She wore a deep blue robe, while the blond had on a full set of pure gold Greek armor, like she expected to go to war on a catwalk.

The scene felt like a punch to the stomach, but not because of the women. It was gone in a second, replaced by a panorama of a running track, but that was enough time not to miss it. Sitting at the end of the table was a familiar eleven-year-old's body possessed by a much older spirit. I was sure of it. I had seen Minos.

Pictures kept coming. I saw cities— New Orleans, Denver, Detroit. I saw massive cages, their celestial bronze bars too tight to tell what was locked inside. And then all the parts came together.

The final scene was much longer than the others, an aerial view of an underground clay coliseum. Rows of figures stood at attention in the center. Some looked like demigods while others were obviously monsters. There were spirits that were harder to recognize, some without bodies and others with strange growths or features, and at the very front a group of eight identical girls in biker's jackets stood grinning. Above it all on a pedestal the silver-haired man was there, flanked by Minos and the two polar opposite women. Nine guys with shifting faces just like the one from the freeway stood around them like a guard detail. The man smiled, and spoke.

"Consider this your invitation," he said, voice sounding like it was coming from right in front of me, "to the greatest event ever held. At long last, the time has come. One and all, travel here. Test your mettle. The Panhellenic Games await!"

The crowd erupted with cheers. The man's smile became more of a smirk. Then, as quickly as it came on, the scenes disappeared.

We were back on the freeway. The Theoroi had vanished, as if he'd turned to mist and been blown away by the wind. Every mortal who'd gotten out of their cars was on the ground, eyes shut but chests moving. They'd been put to sleep.

I turned to my friends to ask if they had any idea what all that was about, but the question died on my tongue. All three of them looked as if they'd seen a ghost.

"You guys alright?"

It was like my question barely got through. Each of them blinked, eyes focusing slowly. Bianca was the first to speak.

"You saw him, didn't you?"

I didn't need to ask who she meant. "I saw him alright. Whatever's happening, it's big."

Victoria was the next to shake off her stupor. "Those people?" she said. "The ones in the vision? They were minor gods. Powerful ones. And the messenger they sent, that Theoroi thing? He wasn't normal either. We have to get back to base, fast. This needs to be reported."

She marched back to our car, slipping quickly into the driver's seat. Po followed more slowly, nearly stumbling. Either he'd been concussed when we swerved to a stop, or something in those visions had really shaken him. Bianca and I traded a long, silent look, and I could tell we were each thinking the same thing.

Reporting this wasn't the only thing we had to do. We'd seen Minos, our first hint since he disappeared months ago. Whatever else these Panhellenic games were, no matter how dangerous, that meant they were personal.

And somehow, someway, we needed to find a way into the middle of them.

(-)

Word to the wise, try not to get body-checked finger-first into a wall playing sports. The swellings no fun, and it has this nasty way of setting your plans back...

Anyway, we're back, slightly delayed by an unexpected sprain but otherwise not too off-schedule. The planning is finished. The first chapter is written. The show's on the road.

I will be going for weekly updates again, but I think I'm going to change the day chapters go up to a weekday. Haven't decided which yet- Thursdays, maybe? We'll see.