Chapter 64

The Boogeyman Does Manual Labor

The second opening ceremony was in the same huge stadium that the first one had been in, but a few major things had changed. The oversized brazier had been scooched further down Agon's center pedestal to make room for an equally massive cage. A gold tarp covered the cage, hiding what was inside from view, but even across the room you could hear periodic roars, along with what sounded like thrashing against metal bars. All nine Theoroi stood conspicuously close by, eight of them armed.

Another change was the track. Rather than rubber with painted lanes, the entire spiral was made of hard-packed golden sand. Chariot wheels rolled easily over the surface, kicking up minimal dust as they were pulled slowly toward the room's center in a slow procession.

Every duo rode in their chariots, their patrons positioned in between them. We were no different, except that Hygeia barely came up to our shoulders and was only half-visible over the chariot walls. She seemed fine with that, though. Where every other patron stood proudly at attention, she seemed like she'd prefer to sink between the boards and disappear.

We got trouble at ten O'clock.

Trotting at the center of our four-horse formation, I saw Blackjack staring at something ahead of us. One of the other pegasi waved its head nervously.

Trouble on all sides, it said. Lots of trouble, lord. Lots and lots of trouble.

Sure, Blackjack said. But ten O'clock? That trouble's the realest deal.

I followed his eyes. Two chariots ahead of us, leading the whole procession, was a midnight chariot with silver and red trim. It was being pulled by just one creature, a huge something that looked fifty percent horse, fifty percent wolf, and one hundred percent nightmare fuel. Inside the chariot rode Kelli and Mark, huge laurel wreaths hanging around their necks, and between them stood a tall pale figure in a silky dress. Hecate had found her second-choice team.

"Mormo…" Annabeth breathed, staring with wide eyes. "They got Mormo to be a mount?"

"I don't get it," I said. "What is that thing?"

"A consort of Hecate's," Annabeth said. "She was like the boogeyman back in ancient Greece. Don't want your kids to sneak out at night? Tell them Mormo will eat them. Except, unlike the boogeyman, Mormo really did exist, and her favorite food really was children. The younger the tastier."

It looks like a horse. Kinda. But I'm telling you, that ain't no horse, Blackjack insisted. That thing reeks of blood. It's giving me the shivers.

As if it heard us talking, Mormo's eyes turned toward us. They weren't the eyes of a horse; not the eyes of a wolf, either. They were human-like, although not quite. The creature grinned, and a thick black tongue slithered out of its lips, tasting the air in our direction. With a shiver, I shifted my attention to the rest of the room.

There were ten chariots total, instead of the twelve there should have been. I didn't know what to make of that, but at least most of my friends were there. Bianca and Thalia stood as far apart as possible on a sleek blue chariot with a tall black-haired man between them. I didn't recognize him, but since the chariot was being pulled by horses made of storm clouds I assumed he was some kind of wind god. Nera and Kai rode with a split-faced woman, one half of her pure black and the other half solid white, although the strange coloration wasn't enough to hide how similar her features were to Nera's. That had to be Melinoe. Then there was Victoria and Po. Their chariot was made of live wood, as if tree roots just happened to grow together in the perfect shape to race, and was being pulled by twin goats the size of camels. Marlon the satyr road with them, his hood pulled up. Unless I was imagining things, all three of them were standing stiffly. It was as if they were resisting the urge to turn and look behind them. That would make sense for Victoria at least— riding one chariot back, with two of the Proioxis from the qualification round, was Nike in all her shining glory.

I'd never seen so many immortals gathered in one room, but there was one possible patron who was nowhere to be seen, even after I had checked twice.

"Minos isn't here," I muttered.

I hadn't really said it to anyone, but it's hard not to be overheard when crammed into a single chariot.

"He tried," Hygeia said.

"He got rejected?"

I was trying not to laugh. The idea of nobody wanting him made my day just a little brighter.

"Something of the sort," Hygeia said. "It seems he was after that one group, the one with the daughter of Melinoe—"

"Nera and Kai?"

"Yes, if those are their names. All I know is that he left quickly in a huff, looking quite pale except for a red mark on his cheek. He called on me insisting I strengthen the locks on competitor rooms, as if scared some would escape. I haven't seen him since."

Looking back at Melinoe's team, I made a note to ask them about it the next time I saw them. For now, though, we'd reached the arena's center.

Chariot by chariot, the others pulled in behind us until we all ringed the pedestal in a conch-shell pattern.

Agon rose from his lonely throne. If he was sad about having the pedestal to himself now, his beaming expression didn't show it.

"Welcome!" he said. "Be sure to thank you're gracious patrons for allowing you to compete! And, patrons, try not to be too hard on the competitors if they let you down. I know they'll be trying their best."

He smiled at each of us, one by one, but nobody moved a muscle. It was lip service. Everybody knew it, including Agon.

"Now, with pleasantries out of the way…"

Agon made a gesture, flicking his wrist toward the Theoroi. Four sheathed their swords, and with their free hands grabbed one side of the tarp. Heaving backward, they dragged the material off of the cage foot by foot.

The first sight I got inside the cage was of a snarling maw— pink flesh, flying saliva, and glistening pearly fangs. Golden fur flashed as a huge shape pounded on the bars, but the metal wouldn't budge.

"Di immortales," Annabeth muttered. "Of course! The Nemean Games. What else would the sacrifice be?"

"The Nemean Lion," I realized, staring at the raging captured beast. "First a Drakon, and now this?"

Similar mutters were sweeping the rest of the room. They only grew louder when Agon hopped off his stand, marching right up to the cage.

He stood, staring up as the huge monster thrashed. And then, with a quick glance over his shoulder to make certain we were all watching, he rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the cage by two of its bars.

"No way…" I said.

But it was happening. Slowly, with grunts of exertion, Agon was hoisting the massive cage using nothing but raw strength.

The lion yowled like a cat up a tree. Being lifted probably brought up bad memories of the last time it was killed. There was nothing it could do, though. The cage kept rising, Agon positioning it above the towering brazier flames.

With a roar of pure exertion, the god heaved the cage into the fire, and the flames ate it like Kronos spotting a baby.

Just like that, the monster was gone, although golden smoke billowed into the air by the plume. Slowly, it started to coalesce, rushing down to Agon and sinking into his skin, allowing him to absorb it.

When the brazier flames burned lower, all that fell out was a golden hoodie and a pair of wreaths. Agon caught each in his arms, the prizes for this round's victors, then turned to face us, a sheen of sweat on his skin and an expression of pure pride on his face.

"Enjoy the show?" he asked cockily.

"To think he's grown this much already," Hygeia muttered.

"Grown?" I said. "Isn't that, like, the whole point of gods? That they don't grow?"

There was a reason Kronos ruled until his kids overthrew him, and why the minor gods had waited for the titans before rising up. When one god was stronger than another, that didn't change, no matter how long he lived or what he tried. At least, that was the way I knew it.

It reminded me of things the patrons had said, though. About Agon only being weak for now.

"Sacrifices have power," Hygeia said. "A powerful creature, killed in a deity's honor, can be a significant thing."

"Those are short-lived, temporary boosts," Annabeth said. "Sacrifices don't last. They aren't permanent."

"Not usually," Hygeia said with a frown. "There are special cases, though."

"Two parts!" Agon yelled, apparently deciding we'd had enough time to admire him, and conversation died in an instant. "This race'll be in two parts, with two venues, with a brief pit stop in the middle for repairs!"

I noticed patrons like Marlon frowning, while Nike's natural smirk grew. It was another advantage for the stronger patrons— deities with the power to fix a chariot in seconds would naturally come out better than the ones who poured everything into just making theirs.

"What is forbidden?" Nike called out.

"That's the neat part." Agon's smile gleamed. "Nothing!"

He looked over the patrons, making sure we understood him, before linking his hands behind his back.

"This is chariot racing— the old way, also known as the fun way. Stab, maim, or kill if you think it will help you." His eyes drifted to Hecate's team, and he added, "Or if you just want to, I suppose."

Mark gave the god an exaggerated bow, so over the top that even Hecate looked a little embarrassed.

"There's eleven teams left — don't worry about who's missing, we're still having a few behavioral issues — which will make three heats. Four chariots, eight riders, and only half advance! Doesn't it just make the blood roar?"

Nobody answered. They all had their sights set on what was so close now, the next task, and Agon realized that too.

"I'll take that for a yes," he said giddily. "I hereby proclaim the Nemean Games… Open!"


After the patrons had all disembarked, Hecate made a gesture. Mist coalesced around the chariots. Before it could swallow us and send us gods know where, Hygeia gave me and Annabeth a long and guarded look.

"Don't lose too badly," she said. "I believe it would make me feel bad."

"We don't plan to," Annabeth promised.

Hygeia sniffed. "Plans. Those things never last."

And then we were gone, standing in chilly air.

It wasn't as cold as Leadville, thankfully. Our lavender jumpsuits hadn't gotten any thicker. The sun was in the sky here, and there was no ice or snow in sight. That basically made it a paradise.

As for where exactly we'd appeared, it was a parking lot. Not all that grand. Although, being fair here, it was a very big lot. Hundreds of empty parking spaces were spread out around us, clustered along the exterior of a short but wide stadium. Gray letters above a row of ticket offices called it INDIANAPOLIS MOTOR SPEEDWAY. Even I knew what that was; we were in front of the Indie five-hundred track.

A golden startline glowed just ahead of our pegasi's hooves, a huge incorporeal green flag floating above it. Three other chariots were positioned to our left, spaced out by a couple of feet. Kelli and Mark were obviously there as the other team from our last heat, but the other two were what caught my attention. It was Victoria and Po, along with the Proioxis. Nike and Hecate's teams were in the same heat. Hopefully, they would get distracted bickering and let us speed away for an easy win.

Somehow, I didn't see that happening. Mark was staring me down in that creepy way of his, while The Proioxis hadn't looked away from my friends once.

Annabeth and I shared a look. She picked up the reins; I turned Aelia into Anthea. Next to the checkered flag, a glowing three appeared, quickly turning to a two.

When the counter hit zero the checkered flag whipped side-to-side, and the world exploded into wind and noise.

Everyone compares the sound of horse hooves to thunder, and that was the first time in my life that I understood why— the sound was so similar I almost had flashbacks to my seventh birthday.

Glowing threads stretched off the front of each chariot, showing competitors which way to go to reach the finish line. I hardly noticed. Driving was Annabeth's job. Mine was to fend off attacks, and we were already shoulder-to-shoulder with Hecate's team.

"Hey, Percy!" Mark said, holding a trademark machete high over his head after pulling it from… somewhere. "Fancy running into you here!"

As he said it, Kelli yanked the reins, sending their chariot careening against ours. The pegasi on that side whinnied in panic as Mormo got close, grinning with her sharp teeth.

"Not going to say hi back?" Mark swung the machete and gouged a chip out of the side of our chariot. "That's rude, man. I'm trying to have a conversation here."

I definitely wasn't. There was so much I still had to say to Annabeth, about the gods and the Titans and what I'd been doing for these last few months. On my terms, though. No way was I letting her hear about Kronos from these two first. I jammed Anfisa out, aiming for the mortal's head.

I missed, the other chariot veering out of the way. As they prepared to slam us again, I yelled, "Blackjack, now!"

Our chariot hadn't been built to take a beating, but that was only because we had something else in mind. Keeping four pegasi grounded is a total waste.

The Golden Fleece wood was impossibly light, which was probably the only reason takeoff was so smooth. One second we were clattering down a paved street, the next we were soaring past rooftops.

It was our first chance since the race started to take a breath, and I didn't waste any time looking back.

What I saw didn't raise my spirits. There was a reason Proioxis had been nowhere to be seen at the start. Every time they had a chance to gain on us they passed it up in favor of crashing into Victoria and Po, hacking at their chariot with swords. A dangerous swing chopped a horn off one of the goat mounts, which shrieked a high-pitched scream.

Victoria was doing her best to hold things together, but she was fighting an uphill battle. Po, who was supposed to be defending, looked pale and shaky. He kept hesitating. In a race like this, that left him worse than useless.

I would've loved to help, but I didn't know how to, and I didn't have time to figure anything out because suddenly Blackjack was yelling, Inbound!

Turns out, Mormo could fly.

She didn't sprout wings. Nothing about her appearance changed. Her legs kept moving the same as they had been, but suddenly she was running up, like she was climbing an invisible ramp. Mark gave a little wave, then blew me a kiss.

Annabeth pushed the reins, urging the pegasi faster, but staying away from Mormo already seemed like the best motivation anybody could ask for.

Not that it was easy. Hygeia had been right about the best teams. Whatever tricks Hecate had worked, they made for one absurdly fast chariot.

Just as they were about to overtake us — which happened way too quickly for my peace of mind — we passed over a break in the businesses and houses where a bridge spanned a low brown river.

With a quick thought, I willed the river to rise and it erupted like a geyser. Brown water engulfed Hecate's team as Mormo let out a chilling shrill scream.

Good one! Blackjack yelled at me. Take that, ya freak! Serves you right for pretending to be a horse!

By now downtown Indianapolis was looming, and our golden thread was leading us straight toward it. I thought maybe we had pulled into the lead for good, until I heard clattering beneath us.

The Proioxis had caught up.

Their towering stallions looked ordinary compared to the competition, but Nike had clearly layered them with every blessing she had. They outpaced cars as they blitzed through traffic. The longer they ran the faster they got, like they could accelerate forever.

For the first time I hated my job in this race. With nothing to stab and no more rivers to control, I couldn't do a thing. I was forced to stand and watch, rooting for Annabeth and the pegasi to fly us faster than the best efforts they were already giving.

For a while, it worked. We didn't have to make any turns as we flew straight over any buildings in the way, while the Proioxis had to zigzag down crowded streets. But the further we went the taller the buildings grew, until going over stopped being so easy. Out of the pegasi, only Blackjack seemed fine: the others were panting, their breathing coming as shortening gasps.

We are fine, lord! said the one on the right, sensing my worry. Pegasi are strong. We can race anything.

I didn't answer, reminding myself to have Hygeia double their daily sugar cubes after this.

We were in downtown now. It seemed small compared to Manhattan. Skyscrapers were rare enough that they stood out, standing high over the rest of the city.

Far below, The Proioxis were pulling away. Now that we had to match them turn for turn they were clearly faster. Still, second place wasn't bad. The golden thread leading us through the city had started glowing brighter, signaling that this part's finish line must have been getting close.

I didn't see anything until one of the pegasi was bellowing in pain.

The chariot jerked sideways as the pegasus stopped flying to fight against something. A long, dark shape had appeared, stretching from somewhere far beneath us. As the Pegasus thrashed I caught glimpses of glowing eyes and glinting fangs. Then the shape wrenched down, and our pegasus was torn straight out of the harness, disappearing in a blur of white.

I stared at the now-empty harness blankly. A second ago that pegasus had been reassuring me. Now it was just gone. I hadn't even asked its name.

I leaned over the chariot's edge, looking down, and found Hecate's chariot, perfectly dry, riding next to Nike's team. Mormo looked up. She met my eyes. And she grinned, showing off her stained teeth.

I didn't realize the ground was shaking until Annabeth said, "Percy!"

I jumped, turning to her.

"I know," she said. "But not here."

I could hear it. Mortals were shouting in alarm. A few were looking for cover, but most seemed to be standing in shock. This wasn't California. The people here weren't acclimated to earthquakes. More importantly, it wasn't an empty Alaskan forest: if I lost control here, it could become a tragedy.

Taking a deep breath, I forced the shaking to stop. For now.

With three pegasi our flying had become erratic. We bobbed up and down and wobbled right to left. Even Blackjack was panting now. We were slowing down as the two teams beneath us sped up, pushing us deeper into third place.

And then, when our thread had gotten so bright it was blinding to look at, a golden line came into view far up ahead. The front two sped over it and disappeared in puffs of Mist. A long thirty seconds later we did the same, leaving Indianapolis in the rear-view mirror.


The pit-stop garage looked like a mortal mechanic's shop, only instead of rubber tires there were racks of wooden spokes, and instead of smelling like grease and oil the strongest scents were hay and horse droppings.

Hygeia was waiting for us by a hydraulic jack big enough to heft a chariot.

"You did surprisingly well," she said when we'd rolled to a stop.

"We're losing," Annabeth said. "We're in third. We won't go through like this."

"Losing to Hecate and Nike is no great shame," Hygeia said.

But I saw the way her hands were clenched as she said it.

Speaking of, Hecate and Nike's teams were at workstations of their own. The whole garage was almost the size of a football field, with work areas for all four teams in each of the corners. Three were full, and in front of the empty one I spotted Marlon the satyr, pacing with nervous energy.

"We aren't going to lose this," I said. I watched Kelli and Mark sitting pretty in their unblemished chariot, saying something to each other and chuckling. "Not to them."

"And how do you plan to catch up?" Hygeia asked, sort of like she was humoring a child.

We'll figure something out.

Since the race ended our Pegasi had been quiet, and not just because they were exhausted. It was respect for the one we'd lost, and maybe a bit of shock, too. But Blackjack was facing us, pawing the floor with an antsy hoof.

Bruno, he said to me and Hygeia, who seemed to understand him as easily as I did. That was the name of the one we lost. I always thought he was something of a dunce, to be honest. Who risks their life for sugar? Blackjack paused, and I thought I heard him sniff. Nah, he never was the brightest. But he was a good horse, I tell you. A real good horse. We're gonna get them for that one. Aren't we?

My hand curled tighter around Anthea's shaft.

"Hygeia," I said. "Where's the second half going to be?"

"A national park," Hygeia said. "Likely the Grand Canyon, though there were a few options."

"Not a city?"

"Definitely not," she said. "Agon wanted both urban and natural environments for this event."

"That's perfect," I promised. I turned to tell Annabeth my plan, but before I could start she just nodded.

"Go wild," she said.

I grinned, then looked again at Mark and Kelli lounging around. This time, though, I focused on the chariot, its black wood and enchanted grooves, and imagined it shattered into about a million splinters.

Right then, almost a full three minutes after we arrived, Marlon's team appeared in a puff of Mist.

One wall of their chariot was dragging on the ground, hanging on by a few thin roots. Victoria was cradling one arm, and both of their huge goats were hobbling with limps. Po was leaning on the still-upright wall, hands pressed to his head. I looked around, realizing we still had time, and made a split-second decision.

"Be back in a minute," I said.

"Where could you possibly be going at this time?" Hygeia asked.

With half an eye on Annabeth, I said, "To make a few allies.

Walking across the room to the opposite corner, I felt eyes on me. From my team but also all the others. When I got close, Marlon stopped whispering soothing words into the goats' ears to glare at me.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "I'm warning you, sabotage won't be tolerated! I'll tell Agon if you—"

"Marlon," Victoria said. "It's fine."

She'd taken an awkward seat on the ground, stretching out her injured arm to see how bad it was, but when she saw me she smiled.

"We must look pretty sorry right now, huh?" she said.

"Like you raced a bunch of psycho battle spirits and lost," I said.

She laughed. "Imagine that."

I noticed Marlon still watching me suspiciously. I didn't know how much time I had, so I got right to it.

"I'm going to make sure Kelli and Mark won't even be able to finish the race," I said. "So just beat the Proioxis, and we both advance."

Po hadn't even acknowledged me. He hadn't moved since they trundled in. But he flinched when he heard me say 'Proioxis'.

"And isn't that just the story of our tournament," Victoria said with a sigh. "Let me tell you, it's easier to say it than to do it."

"Why are they so obsessed with you?" I asked, remembering the way the spirits had started the race.

Victoria jerked a finger over her shoulder. "Ask him."

"They never forgave me."

I blinked, caught off-guard as Po spoke and stood up suddenly, turning around to grip the chariot's rim with both hands.

"They haven't forgotten," he said. "They've been waiting for their revenge this entire time."

"Hold on." I held my hands up to say 'Slow down'. "You knew them before?"

"Of course I did," he said, his voice sounding slightly frantic. "We were born together. We did everything together. I was one of them. Do you understand? I am the eighth Proioxis."

(-)