Half of the fifth cohort went along with the original plan, throwing themselves at the fortress with reckless abandon. The defenses activated almost instantly. High-pressure water jets locked in and blew them away, surprisingly not injuring anyone.
Valen's group rose from the shadows behind the fortress, and the first thing they did was target the jets, destroying them before they could retaliate. Simultaneously, the remaining water jets exploded, causing mayhem in the fortress.
"Well?" He heard Frank's voice from the top, "Attack!"
Valen grinned, "You heard the man, let's cause some chaos people!"
A cry of agreement went up, and their shield bearers slammed into the wall, breaking through. The amount of chaos inside reminded him of the first time he had played the game.
His grin widened. "For the fifth!" he yelled, joining the fray.
By the time the rest of the cohort caught up with them, Percy's group had disarmed the enemies, grabbed the banners, and climbed onto Hannibal's back. They marched out of the keep triumphantly with the enemy colors.
The Fifth Cohort formed ranks around them. Together they paraded out of the fort, past stunned enemies and lines of equally mystified allies.
Reyna circled low overhead on her pegasus. "The game is won!" she sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. "Assemble for honors!"
Slowly, the campers regrouped on the Field of Mars. But the happy atmosphere didn't last for long.
"Help!" somebody yelled.
A couple of campers rushed out of the fortress, carrying a girl on a stretcher. They set her down, and other kids started running over. It was Gwen, one of the centurions of the fifth cohort. She was in bad shape. She lay on her side on the stretcher with a pilum sticking out of her armor—almost like she was holding it between her chest and her arm, but there was too much blood.
Frank shook his head in disbelief. "No, no, no…" he muttered as he ran to her side.
The medics barked at everyone to stand back and give her air. The whole legion fell silent as the healers worked—trying to get gauze and powdered unicorn horn under Gwen's armor to stop the bleeding, trying to force some nectar into her mouth. Gwen didn't move. Her face was ashen gray. Finally, one of the medics looked up at Reyna and shook his head.
For a moment, there was no sound except water from the ruined cannons trickling down the walls of the fort. Hannibal nuzzled Gwen's hair with his trunk.
Reyna surveyed the campers from her pegasus. Her expression was as hard and dark as iron. "There will be an investigation. Whoever did this, you cost the legion a good officer. Honorable death is one thing, but this..."
Valen stared at the pilum. It was engraved with the legions marks : CHT I LEGIO XII F.
The weapon belonged to the First Cohort, and the point was sticking out the front of her armor. Gwen had been speared from behind—possibly after the game had ended.
He glared at the first cohort, his gaze washing over them until his gaze fell over Octavian and his distinct lack of a pilum.
Time seemed to slow down, his own hearts thumping filled his ears. Octavian smiled smugly at him, knowing he could not do anything to him.
How wrong he was.
He shot through the air, grabbing Octavian by his throat before Frank could charge at the augur.
He heard Reyna call out his name, but he paid that no heed.
"Honorless cretin," he whispered through grit teeth. "Admit your crime, and maybe your sentence in the underworld would be lighter."
"What…crime?" he choked out, still grinning.
Valen's grip on his throat tightened, and he summoned Stormguard to his hand. But before he could do anything, the golden edge of Reyna's sword pressed at his neck.
"Let him go Legionnaire." she ordered.
He glared at her through the corner of his eye, but complied nonetheless, throwing Octavian to the ground, "If you haven't noticed, he's missing his pilum. You know, the weapon currently lodged inside our centurion?"
"I am well aware of that, Legionnaire Steensen. There will be an investigation on this, and if Octavian does turn out to be the culprit, he will be punished accordingly."
He scoffed, glaring at the augur, "I'll be sure to attend your hearing when the judges send you to the fields of punishment."
At that tense moment, Gwen suddenly gasped awake.
Everyone stepped back. Gwen opened her eyes. The color came back to her face.
"Wh-what is it?" She blinked. "What's everyone staring at?" She didn't seem to notice the seven-foot harpoon sticking out through her chest.
Reyna glanced at Valen, "We will talk about this later."
Gwen tried to sit up, but couldn't. "There was a river, and a man asking…for a coin? I turned around and the exit door was open. So I just…I just left. I don't understand. What's happened?"
Everyone stared at her in horror. Nobody tried to help.
"Gwen." Frank knelt next to her. "Don't try to get up. Just close your eyes for a second, okay?"
"Why? What—"
"Just trust me." Gwen did what he asked. Frank grabbed the shaft of the pilum below its tip, but his hands were shaking. The wood was slick. "Percy, Hazel—help me."
One of the medics realized what he was planning. "Don't!" he said. "You might—"
"What?" Hazel snapped. "Make it worse?"
Frank took a deep breath. "Hold her steady. One, two, three!"
He pulled the pilum out from the front. Gwen didn't even wince. The blood stopped quickly.
Hazel bent down to examine the wound. "It's closing on its own," she said. "I don't know how, but—"
"I feel fine," Gwen protested. "What's everyone worried about?"
"You were dead for a while there," Valen explained, walking towards her. "The man you saw was Charon, the ferryman of the dead."
"I…what?" She stumbled against Frank. Her hand pressed against the ragged hole in her armor. "How—how?"
"Good question." Reyna turned to Nico, who was watching grimly from the edge of the crowd. "Is this some power of Pluto?"
Nico shook his head. "Pluto never lets people return from the dead."
Valen frowned, a memory was itching up his head. He was in the ruins of an old house, and someone was talking to him.
'Thanatos…chained…gates…unguarded…'
He grimaced as his headache returned, albeit much more manageable now.
A thunderous voice rolled across the field: Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning.
Campers drew weapons. Hannibal trumpeted nervously. Scipio reared, almost throwing Reyna.
"I know that voice," Percy said. He didn't sound pleased.
Valen nodded in agreement.
In the midst of the legion, a column of fire blasted into the air. Heat seared Valen's eyelashes. Campers who had been soaked by the cannons found their clothes instantly steam-dried. Everyone scrambled backward as a huge soldier stepped out of the explosion.
The soldier was ten feet tall, dressed in Canadian Forces desert camouflage. He radiated confidence and power. His black hair was cut in a flat-topped wedge like Frank's. His face was angular and brutal, marked with old knife scars. His eyes were covered with infrared goggles that glowed from inside. He wore an utility belt with a sidearm, a knife holster, and several grenades. In his hands was an oversized M16 rifle.
As everyone else stepped back, Frank stepped forward. Frank desperately wanted to run away and hide, but he couldn't. He took three more steps. Then, he sank to one knee. The other campers followed his example and knelt. Even Reyna dismounted.
"That's good," the soldier said. "Kneeling is good. It's been a long time since I've visited Camp Jupiter."
One person wasn't kneeling. Percy Jackson, his sword still in hand, was glaring at the giant soldier.
"You're Ares," Percy said. "What do you want?"
A collective gasp went up from two hundred campers and an elephant. They were certain the god would be vaporizing Percy for that insult.
Instead, the god bared his brilliant white teeth. "You've got spunk, demigod," he said. "Ares is my Greek form. But to these followers, to the children of Rome, I am Mars—patron of the empire, divine father of Romulus and Remus."
"We've met," Percy said. "We…we had a fight.…"
The god scratched his chin, as if trying to recall. "I fight a lot of people. But I assure you—you've never fought me as Mars. If you had, you'd be dead. Now, kneel, as befits a child of Rome, before you try my patience."
Around Mars's feet, the ground boiled in a circle of flame.
"Percy," Frank said, "please."
Percy clearly didn't like it, but he knelt.
Mars scanned the crowd. "Romans, lend me your ears!" He laughed—a good, hearty bellow.
"I've always wanted to say that. I come from Olympus with a message. Jupiter doesn't like us communicating directly with mortals, especially nowadays. However, he has allowed this exception, as you Romans have always been my special people. I'm only permitted to speak for a few minutes, so listen up."
He pointed at Gwen. "This one should be dead, yet she's not. The monsters you fight no longer return to Tartarus when they are slain. Some mortals who died long ago are now walking the earth again."
"Thanatos has been chained," Mars announced. "The Doors of Death have been forced open, and no one is policing them—at least, not impartially. Gaea allows our enemies to pour forth into the world of mortals. Her sons, the giants, are mustering armies against you—armies that you will not be able to kill. Unless Death is unleashed to return to his duties, you will be overrun. You must find Thanatos and free him from the giants. Only he can reverse the tide."
Mars looked around, and noticed that everyone was still silently kneeling. "Oh, you can get up now. Any questions?"
Reyna rose uneasily. She approached the god, followed by Octavian, who was bowing and scraping like a champion groveler.
"Lord Mars," Reyna said, "we are honored."
"Beyond honored," said Octavian. "So far beyond honored—"
"Well?" Mars snapped.
"Well," Reyna said, "Thanatos is the god of death, the lieutenant of Pluto?"
"Right," the god said. "And you're saying that he's been captured by giants."
"Right."
"And therefore people will stop dying?"
"Not all at once," Mars said. "But the barriers between life and death will continue to weaken. Those who know how to take advantage of this will exploit it. Monsters are already harder to dispatch. Soon they will be completely impossible to kill. Some demigods will also be able to find their way back from the Underworld—like your friend Centurion Shish kebab."
Gwen winced. "Centurion Shish kebab?"
"If left unchecked," Mars continued, "even mortals will eventually find it impossible to die. Can you imagine a world in which no one dies—ever?"
Octavian raised his hand. "But, ah, mighty all-powerful Lord Mars, if we can't die, isn't that a good thing? If we can stay alive indefinitely—"
"Don't be foolish, boy!" Mars bellowed. "Endless slaughter with no conclusion? Carnage without any point? Enemies that rise again and again and can never be killed? Is that what you want?"
"You're the god of war," Percy spoke up. "Don't you want endless carnage?"
Mars's infrared goggles glowed brighter. "Insolent, aren't you? Perhaps I have fought you before. I can understand why I'd want to kill you. I'm the god of Rome, child. I am the god of military might used for a righteous cause. I protect the legions. I am happy to crush my enemies underfoot, but I don't fight without reason. I don't want war without end. You will discover this. You will serve me."
"Not likely," Percy said.
The legion waited for the god to strike him down, but Mars just grinned like they were two old buddies talking trash.
"I order a quest!" the god announced. "You will go north and find Thanatos in the land beyond the gods. You will free him and thwart the plans of the giants. Beware Gaea! Beware her son, the eldest giant!"
Next to Frank, Hazel made a squeaking sound. "The land beyond the gods?"
Mars stared down at her, his grip tightening on his M16. "That's right, Hazel Levesque. You know what I mean. Everyone here remembers the land where the legion lost its honor! Perhaps if the quest succeeds, and you return by the Feast of Fortuna…perhaps then your honor will be wrestored. If you don't succeed, there won't be any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy lost forever. So my advice is: Don't fail."
Octavian somehow managed to bow even lower. "Um, Lord Mars, just one tiny thing. A quest requires a prophecy, a mystical poem to guide us! We used to get them from the Sibylline books, but now it's up to the augur to glean the will of gods. So if I could just run and get about seventy stuffed animals and possibly a knife—"
"You're the augur?" the god interrupted.
"Y-yes, my lord."
Mars pulled a scroll from his utility belt. "Anyone got a pen?"
The legionnaires stared at him. Mars sighed. "Two hundred Romans, and no one's got a pen? Never mind!"
He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write.
"There!" Mars finished writing and threw the scroll at Octavian. "A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it on your floor, whatever."
Octavian read the scroll. "This says, 'Go to Alaska. Find Thanatos and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die.'"
Valen snorted, "Brilliant poetic skill there Ar-Mars."
"I know." he boasted, as if it was a masterpiece.
"Oh and thanks for the blessing by the way," he said, before pausing. Where had that come from?
Mars stared at him silently for a moment, before his form flickered. For an instant, Valen thought he saw a man in black jeans and leather duster, before he flickered back to Mars.
"Don't mention it kid." he said, having remembered what blessing Valen had been talking about.
Mars tapped the grenade to his chin. "Now, what else? There was something else…oh, yes."
He turned to Frank. "C'mere, kid."
No, Frank thought. The burned stick in his coat pocket felt heavier. His legs turned wobbly. A sense of dread settled over him, worse than the day the military officer had come to the door. He knew what was coming, but he couldn't stop it. He stepped forward against his will.
Mars grinned. "Nice job taking the wall, kid. Who's the ref for this game?"
Reyna raised her hand.
"You see that play, ref?" Mars demanded. "That was my kid. First over the wall, won the game for his team. Unless you're blind, that was an MVP play. You're not blind, are you?"
Reyna looked like she was trying to swallow a mouse. "No, Lord Mars."
"Then make sure he gets the Mural Crown," Mars demanded.
"My kid, here!" he yelled at the legion, in case anyone hadn't heard. Frank wanted to melt into the dirt.
"Emily Zhang's son," Mars continued. "She was a good soldier. Good woman. This kid Frank proved his stuff tonight. Happy late birthday, kid. Time you stepped up to a real man's weapon."
He tossed Frank his M16. The gun changed in midair, becoming smaller and thinner. When Frank caught it, the weapon was a spear. It had a shaft of Imperial gold and a strange point like a white bone, flickering with ghostly light.
"The tip is a dragon's tooth," Mars said. "You haven't learned to use your mom's talents yet, have you? Well—that spear will give you some breathing room until you do. You get three charges out of it, so use it wisely."
Frank didn't understand, but Mars acted like the matter was closed.
"Now, my kid Frank Zhang is gonna lead the quest to free Thanatos, unless there are any objections?"
Of course, no one said a word. But many of the campers glared at Frank with envy, jealousy, anger, bitterness.
"You can take two companions," Mars said. "Those are the rules. Oh, and this kid too."
He pointed at Percy. "He's gonna learn some respect for Mars on this trip, or die trying. As for the other two, I don't care. Pick whomever you want. Have one of your senate debates. You all are good at those."
The god's image flickered. Lightning crackled across the sky.
"That's my cue," Mars said. "Until next time, Romans. Do not disappoint me!"
The god erupted in flames, and then he was gone. Reyna turned toward Frank. Her expression was part amazement, part nausea, like she'd finally managed to swallow that mouse.
She raised her arm in a Roman salute. "Ave, Frank Zhang, son of Mars."
As expected, the next morning was hectic. They had a senate meeting first thing, and everyone had to look presentable.
"Breakfast time?" he heard Percy ask hopefully.
Frank's head popped up from the bunk below. He had bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept well. "A quick breakfast. Then we've got the senate meeting."
Dakota's head was stuck in his toga. He staggered around like a Kool-Aid-stained ghost.
"Um," Percy said, "should I wear my bed sheets?"
Frank snorted. "That's just for the senators. There are ten of them, elected yearly. You've got to be at camp five years to qualify."
"So how come we're invited to the meeting?"
"Because…you know, the quest." Frank sounded worried, like he was afraid Percy would back out. "We have to be in on the discussion. You, me, Valen, and Hazel. I mean, if you're both willing…"
Valen shrugged, "I'm down."
Percy looked reluctant, but nodded nonetheless.
At breakfast, almost everyone was staring at Percy and Frank.
"Two gods in one day…"
"Un-Roman fighting…"
"Water cannon up my nose…"
Before Valen could even have his second cup of coffee, Reyna announced that the senate would now convene in the city. Then, all the folks in togas got up to leave.
"Here we go." Hazel fidgeted with a stone that looked like a two-carat ruby. The ghost Vitellius appeared next to them in a purple shimmer. "Bona fortuna! Ah, senate meetings. I remember the one when Caesar was assassinated. Why, the amount of blood on his toga—"
"Thanks, Vitellius." Frank interrupted. "We should get going."
Reyna and Octavian led the procession of senators out of camp, with Reyna's metal greyhounds dashing back and forth along the road.
Dakota stumbled along in his red-speckled robe. A lot of other senators seemed to be having trouble with their togas, too—hiking up their hems, trying to keep the cloth from slipping off their shoulders.
"How could Romans move, in those things?" Percy wondered.
"They were just for formal occasions," Hazel said. "Like tuxedos. I bet the ancient Romans hated togas as much as we do. By the way, you didn't bring any weapons, did you?"
Percy's hand went to his pocket. "Why? Are we not supposed to?"
"They don't allow any weapons beyond the Pomerian line," Valen said, "And senate meetings always take place in the city."
"Pomerian," Frank said, "the city limits. Inside is a sacred 'safe zone.' Legions can't march through. No weapons allowed. That's so senate meetings don't get bloody."
"Like Julius Caesar getting assassinated?" Percy asked.
Frank nodded. "Don't worry. Nothing like that has happened in months."
The senators slowing down indicated their arrival at the Pomerian line.
On the side of the road stood a white marble statue—a life-size muscular man with curly hair, no arms, and an irritated expression. Maybe he looked mad because he'd been carved only from the waist up. Below that, he was just a big block of marble.
"Single file, please!" the statue said. "Have your IDs ready."
Percy looked to his left and right. He hadn't noticed before, but a line of identical statues ringed the city at intervals of about a hundred yards. The senators passed through easily.
The statue checked the tattoos on their forearms and called each senator by name. "Gwendolyn, senator, Fifth Cohort, yes. Nico di Angelo, ambassador of Pluto—very well. Reyna, praetor, of course. Hank, senator, Third Cohort—oh, nice shoes, Hank! Ah, who have we here?"
The four of them were the last ones left.
"Terminus," Hazel said, "this is Percy Jackson. Percy, this is Terminus, the god of boundaries."
"New, eh?" said the god. "Yes, probatio tablet. Fine. Ah, weapon in your pocket? Take it out! Take it out!"
Surprised, Percy fished out his pen.
"Quite dangerous," Terminus said. "Leave it in the tray. Wait, where's my assistant? Julia!"
A little girl about six years old peeked out from behind the base of the statue. She had pigtails, a pink dress, and an impish grin with two missing teeth.
"Julia?" Terminus glanced behind him, and Julia scurried in the other direction.
"Where did that girl go?" Terminus looked the other way and caught sight of Julia before she could hide. The little girl squealed with delight.
"Oh, there you are," said the statue. "Front and center. Bring the tray."
Julia scrambled out and brushed off her dress. She picked up a tray and presented it to Percy. On it were several paring knives, a corkscrew, an oversized container of sun lotion, and a water bottle.
"You can pick up your weapon on the way out," Terminus said. "Julia will take good care of it. She's a trained professional."
The little girl nodded. "Pro-fess-ion-al." She said each syllable carefully, like she'd been practicing.
Percy glanced back at the other three, but this was nothing unordinary for them.
"The thing is," he said, "the pen returns to my pocket automatically, so even if I give it up—"
"Not to worry," Terminus assured him. "We'll make sure it doesn't wander off. Won't we, Juila?"
"Yes, Mr. Terminus."
Reluctantly, Percy put his pen on the tray.
"Now, a few rules, since you're new," Terminus said. "You are entering the boundaries of the city proper. Keep the peace inside the line. Yield to chariot traffic while walking on public roads. When you get to the Senate House, sit on the left-hand , down there—do you see where I'm pointing?"
"Um," Percy said, "you don't have any hands."
Apparently, this was a sore point for Terminus. His marble face turned a dark shade of gray. "A smart aleck, eh? Well, Mr. Rule Flouter, right down there in the forum—Julia, point for me, please—"
Julia dutifully set down the security tray and pointed toward the main plaza.
"The shop with the blue awning," Terminus continued, "that's the general store. They sell tape measures. Buy one! I want those pants exactly one inch above the ankles and that hair regulation cut. And tuck your shirt in."
Hazel said, "Thank you, Terminus. We need to get going."
"Fine, fine, you may pass," the god said testily. "But stay on the right side of the road! And that rock right there—no, Hazel, look where I'm pointing. That rock is entirely too close to that tree. Move it two inches to the left."
Hazel did what she was told, and they continued down the path, Terminus still shouting orders at them while Julia did cartwheels across the grass.
"Is he always like that?" Percy asked.
"No," Hazel admitted. "Today he was laid back. Usually, he's more obsessive/compulsive."
"He inhabits every boundary stone around the city," Frank said. "Kind of our last line of defense if the city's attacked."
"Terminus isn't so bad," Hazel added. "Just don't make him angry, or he'll force you to measure every blade of grass in the valley."
Valen shuddered, his shoulders slumping, "Please don't mention that."
Percy stared at him wide eyed, "He actually made you do it?!"
"I hated every moment of it." He groaned.
"He was at it for an entire week before Reyna bailed him out." Hazel said, suppressing her laughter.
"Piece of advice," he said. "If Terminus tells you anything, even if you don't understand it, always agree with him."
As they approached the forum, Percy was struck by the sheer number of people. College-age kids were hanging out at the fountain. Several of them waved at the senators as they passed. One guy in his late twenties stood at a bakery counter, flirting with a young woman who was buying coffee. An older couple was watching a little boy in diapers and a miniature Camp Jupiter shirt toddle after seagulls. Merchants were opening their shops for the day, putting out signs in Latin that advertised pottery, jewelry, and half-price tickets for the Hippodrome.
"All these people are demigods?" Percy asked.
"Or descended from demigods," Hazel said. "Like I told you, it's a good place to go to college or raise a family without worrying about monster attacks every day. Maybe two, three hundred people live here? The veterans act as, like, advisers and reserve forces as needed, but mostly they're just citizens living their lives."
The senators made their way to a big white-domed building on the west end of the forum. And they followed behind.
The Senate house interior looked like a high school lecture hall. A semicircle of tiered seats faced a dais with a podium and two chairs. The chairs were empty, but one had a small velvet package on the seat.
Valen, Percy, Hazel, and Frank sat on the left side of the semicircle. The ten senators and Nico di Angelo occupied the rest of the front row. The upper rows were filled with several dozen ghosts and a few older veterans from the city, all in formal togas. Octavian stood in front with a knife, in case he was needed for an emergency augury.
Reyna walked to the podium and raised her hand for attention.
"Right, this is an emergency meeting," she said. "We won't stand on formalities."
"I love formalities!" a ghost complained.
Reyna shot him a cross look. "First of all," she said, "we're not here to vote on the quest itself. The quest has been issued by Mars Ultor, patron of Rome. We will obey his wishes. Nor are we here to debate the choice of Frank Zhang's companions."
"All from the Fifth Cohort?" called out Hank from the Third. "That's not fair."
"And not smart," said the boy next to him. "We know the Fifth will mess up. They should take somebody good."
Dakota got up so fast, he spilled Kool-Aid from his flask. "We were plenty good last night when we whipped your podex, Larry!"
"Enough, Dakota," Reyna said. "Let's leave Larry's podex out of this. As quest leader, Frank has the right to choose his companions. He has chosen Percy Jackson, Valen Steensen and Hazel Levesque."
A ghost from the second row yelled, "Absurdus! Frank Zhang isn't even a full member of the legion! He's on probatio. A quest must be led by someone of centurion rank or higher. This is completely—"
"Cato," Reyna snapped. "We must obey the wishes of Mars Ultor. That means certain...adjustments."
Reyna clapped her hands, and Octavian came forward. He set down his knife and took the velvet package from the chair.
"Frank Zhang," he said, "come forward."
Frank glanced nervously at Percy. Then he got to his feet and approached the augur.
"It is my…pleasure," Octavian said, forcing out the last word, "to bestow upon you the Mural Crown for being first over the walls in siege warfare."
Octavian handed him a bronze badge shaped like a laurel wreath. "Also, by order of Praetor Reyna, to promote you to the rank of centurion."
He handed Frank another badge, a bronze crescent, and the senate exploded in protest.
"He's still a probie!" one yelled.
"Impossible!" said another.
"Water cannon up my nose!" yelled a third.
"Silence!" Octavian's voice sounded a lot more commanding than it had the previous night on the battlefield. "Our praetor recognizes that no one below the rank of centurion may lead a quest. For good or ill, Frank must lead this quest—so our praetor has decreed that Frank Zhang must be made centurion."
A look of irritation flashed across Reyna's face at Octavian's wording. "There is an opening for centurion," she said. "One of our officers, also a senator, has decided to step down. After ten years in the legion, she will retire to the city and attend college. Gwen of the Fifth Cohort, we thank you for your service."
Everyone turned to Gwen, who managed a brave smile. She looked tired from the previous night's ordeal, but also relieved.
"As praetor," Reyna continued, "I have the right to replace officers. I admit it's unusual for a camper on probatio to rise directly to the rank of centurion, but I think we can agree…last night was unusual. Frank Zhang, your ID, please."
Frank removed the lead tablet from around his neck and handed it to Octavian.
"Your arm," Octavian said. Frank held up his forearm. Octavian raised his hands to the heavens. "We accept Frank Zhang, Son of Mars, to the Twelfth Legion Fulminata for his first year of service. Do you pledge your life to the senate and people of Rome?"
Frank muttered something like "Ud-dud." Then he cleared his throat and managed: "I do."
The senators shouted, "Senatus Populusque Romanus!" Fire blazed on Frank's arm. For a moment his eyes filled with terror. Then the smoke and flame died, and new marks were seared onto Frank's skin: SPQR, an image of crossed spears, and a single stripe, representing the first year of service.
"You may sit down." Octavian glanced at the audience as if to say: This wasn't my idea, folks.
"Now," Reyna said, "we must discuss the quest."
The senators shifted and muttered as Frank returned to his seat.
"Did it hurt?" Percy whispered. Frank looked at his forearm, which was still steaming.
"Yeah. A lot." He seemed mystified by the badges in his hand—the centurion's mark and the Mural Crown—like he wasn't sure what to do with them.
"Here." Hazel's eyes shone with pride. "Let me." She pinned the medals to Frank's shirt.
Percy smiled. "You deserve it, man," he said. "What you did last night? Natural leadership."
Valen nodded, "You're one of the few I'd be willing to follow."
Frank scowled. "But centurion—"
"Centurion Zhang," called Octavian. "Did you hear the question?"
Frank blinked. "Um…sorry. What?"
Octavian turned to the senate and smirked, like what did I tell you?
"I was asking," Octavian said like he was talking to a three-year-old, "if you have a plan for the quest. Do you even know where you are going?"
"Um..."
Hazel put her hand on Frank's shoulder and stood. "Weren't you listening last night, Octavian? Mars was pretty clear. We're going to the land beyond the gods—Alaska."
The senators squirmed in their togas. Some of the ghosts shimmered and disappeared. Even Reyna's metal dogs rolled over on their backs and whimpered.
Finally Senator Larry stood. "I know what Mars said, but that's crazy. Alaska is cursed! They call it the land beyond the gods for a reason. It's so far north, the Roman gods have no power there. The place is swarming with monsters. No demigod has come back from there alive since—"
"Since you lost your eagle," Percy said. Larry was so startled, he fell back on his podex.
"Look," Percy continued, "I know I'm new here. I know you guys don't like to mention that massacre in the nineteen-eighties—"
"He mentioned it!" one of the ghosts whimpered.
"—But don't you get it?" Percy continued. "The Fifth Cohort led that expedition. We failed, and we have to be responsible for making things right. That's why Mars is sending us. This giant, the son of Gaea—he's the one who defeated your forces thirty years ago. I'm sure of it. Now he's sitting up there in Alaska with a chained death god, and all your old equipment. He's mustering his armies and sending them south to attack this camp."
"Really?" Octavian said. "You seem to know a lot about our enemy's plans, Percy Jackson."
"It's called not being a daft cunt and actually using your brain." Valen spoke up. Octavian glared at him with murder in his eyes.
Percy took a deep breath. "We're going to confront this son of Gaea," he said, managing to keep his composure. "We'll get back your eagle and unchain this god…" He glanced at Hazel. "Thanatos, right?"
She nodded. "Letus, in Roman. But his old Greek name is Thanatos. When it comes to Death…we're happy to let him stay Greek."
Octavian sighed in exasperation. "Well, whatever you call him…how do you expect to do all this and get back by the Feast of Fortuna? That's The evening of the twenty-fourth. It's the twentieth now. Do you even know where to look? Do you even know who this son of Gaea is?"
"Yes." Hazel spoke with such certainty, that it surprised Valen. "I don't know exactly where to look, but I have a pretty good idea. The giant's name is Alcyoneus."
Valen shuddered involuntarily at the name.
Reyna gripped her podium. "How do you know this, Hazel? Because you're a child of Pluto?"
Nico stood up suddenly. "Praetor, if I may," he said. "Hazel and I…we learned a little about the giants from our father. Each giant was bred specifically to oppose one of the twelve Olympian gods—to usurp that god's domain. The king of giants was Porphyrion, the anti-Jupiter. But the eldest giant was Alcyoneus. He was born to oppose Pluto. That's why we know of him in particular."
Reyna frowned. "Indeed? You sound quite familiar with him."
Nico picked at the edge of his toga. "Anyway…the giants were hard to kill. According to prophecy, they could only be defeated by gods and demigods working together."
Dakota belched. "Sorry, did you say gods and demigods…like fighting side by side? That could never happen!"
Nico shared a glance with Valen. He shook his head subtly, it was not time to let them know yet.
"It has happened," Nico said. "In the first giant war, the gods called on heroes to join them, and they were victorious. Whether it could happen again , I don't know. But with Alcyoneus...he was different. He was completely immortal, impossible to kill by god or demigod, as long as he remained in his home territory—the place where he was born."
Nico paused to let that sink in. "And if Alcyoneus has been reborn in Alaska—"
"Then he can't be defeated there," Hazel finished. "Ever. By any means. Which is why our nineteen-eighties expedition was doomed to fail."
Another round of arguing and shouting broke out.
"The quest is impossible!" shouted a senator.
"We're doomed!" cried a ghost.
"More Kool-Aid!" yelled Dakota.
"Silence!" Reyna called. "Senators, we must act like Romans. Mars has given us this quest, and we have to believe it is possible. These three demigods must travel to Alaska. They must free Thanatos and return before the Feast of Fortuna. If they can retrieve the lost eagle in the process, so much the better. All we can do is advise them and make sure they have a plan."
Reyna looked at the questers without much hope. "You do have a plan?"
"First, I need to understand something." Percy began, turning toward Nico. "I thought Pluto was the god of the dead. Now I hear about this other guy, Thanatos, and the Doors of Death from that prophecy—the Prophecy of Seven. What does all that mean?"
Nico took a deep breath. "Okay. Pluto is the god of the Underworld, but the actual god of death, the one who's responsible for making sure souls go to the afterlife and stay there—that's Pluto's lieutenant, Thanatos. He's like…well, imagine Life and Death are two different countries. Everybody would like to be in Life, right? So there's a guarded border to keep people from crossing back over without permission. But it's a big border, with lots of holes in the fence. Pluto tries to seal up the breaches, but new ones keep popping up all the time. That's why he depends on Thanatos, who's like the border patrol, the police."
"Thanatos catches souls," Percy said, "and deports them back to the Underworld."
"Exactly," Nico said. "But now Thanatos has been captured, chained up."
Frank raised his hand. "Uh…how do you chain Death?"
"He's still a deity, and it is possible to chain a deity. Sisyphus did it in ancient times. Hercules once pinned him to the ground." Valen explained.
"And now a giant has captured him," Percy said. "So if we could free Thanatos, then the dead would stay dead?"
He glanced at Gwen. "Um…no offense."
"It's more complicated than that," Nico said.
Octavian rolled his eyes. "Why does that not surprise me?"
"You mean the Doors of Death," Reyna said, ignoring Octavian. "They are mentioned in the Prophecy of Seven, which sent the first expedition to Alaska—"
Cato the ghost snorted. "We all know how that turned out! We Lares remember!"
The other ghosts grumbled in agreement. Nico put his finger to his lips. Suddenly all the Lares went silent. Some looked alarmed, like their mouths had been glued together.
"Thanatos is only part of the solution," Nico explained. "The Doors of Death…well, that's a concept even I don't completely understand. There are many ways into the Underworld—the River Styx, the Door of Orpheus—plus smaller escape routes that open up from time to time. With Thanatos imprisoned, all those exits will be easier to use. Sometimes it might work to our advantage and let a friendly soul come back—like Gwen here. More often, it will benefit evil souls and monsters, the sneaky ones who are looking to escape. Now, the Doors of Death—those are the personal doors of Thanatos, his fast lane between Life and Death. Only Thanatos is supposed to know where they are, and the location shifts over the ages. If I understand correctly, the Doors of Death have been forced open. Gaea's minions have seized control of them—"
"Which means Gaea controls who can come back from the dead," Percy guessed.
Nico nodded. "She can pick and choose who to let out—the worst monsters, the most evil souls. If we rescue Thanatos, that means at least he can catch souls again and send them below. Monsters will die when we kill them, like they used to, and we'll get a little breathing room. But unless we're able to retake the Doors of Death, our enemies won't stay down for long. They'll have an easy way back to the world of the living."
"So we can catch them and deport them," Percy summed up, "but they'll just keep coming back across."
"In a depressing nutshell, yes," Nico said.
Frank scratched his head. "But Thanatos knows where the doors are, right? If we free him, he can retake them."
"I don't think so," Nico said. "Not alone. He's no match for Gaea. That would take a massive quest…an army of the best demigods."
"Foes bear arms to the Doors of Death," Reyna said. "That's the Prophecy of Seven…"
Valen's ears perked up. He had heard that line before.
Reyna continued, "If this begins the ancient prophecy, we don't have resources to send an army to these Doors of Death and protect the camp. I can't imagine even sparing seven demigods—"
"First things first." Percy tried to sound confident, though he could feel the level of panic rising in the room. "I don't know who the seven are, or what that old prophecy means, exactly. But first we have to free Thanatos. Mars told us we only needed three people for the quest to Alaska. Let's concentrate on succeeding with that and getting back before the Feast of Fortuna. Then we can worry about the Doors of Death."
"Yeah," Frank said in a small voice. "That's probably enough for one week."
"So you do have a plan?" Octavian asked skeptically.
Percy looked at his teammates. "We go to Alaska as fast as possible..."
"And we improvise," Hazel said.
"A lot," Frank added.
Reyna studied them. She looked like she was mentally writing her own obituary.
"Very well," she said. "Nothing remains except for us to vote what support we can give the quest—transportation, money, magic, weapons."
"Praetor, if I may," Octavian said.
"Oh, great," Percy muttered. "Here it comes."
"The camp is in grave danger," Octavian said. "Two gods have warned us we will be attacked four days from now. We must not spread our resources too thin, especially by funding projects that have a slim chance of success."
Octavian looked at them with pity, as if to say, Poor little things. "Mars has clearly chosen the least likely candidates for this quest. Perhaps that is because he considers them the most expendable. Perhaps Mars is playing the long odds. Whatever the case, he wisely didn't order a massive expedition, nor did he ask us to fund their adventure. I say we keep our resources here and defend the camp. This is where the battle will be lost or won. If these three succeed, wonderful! But they should do so by their own ingenuity."
An uneasy murmur passed through the crowd. Frank jumped to his feet, and Percy opened his mouth to say something.
Valen held his hand up, stopping them. 'Leave this to me,' he mouthed.
"Knowing you, I'd be more concerned if you did grant us aid." He said, standing up, "We don't need your money, nor your nectar and ambrosia."
Octavian looked at him in amusement, "It is decided then. You shall receive no aid from the legion, none at all."
Reyna sighed, "The motion is passed. She turned to Frank. "Centurion, your party, bar Legionnaire Steensen is excused. The senate has other matters to discuss."
Valen glanced back at his companions, "Go on, I'll be with you guys soon enough."
He sighed and turned to face the senate, "Alright, go ahead. What did you decide on for my punishment?"
Octavian grinned in glee, "Of course, the crime of attacking the augur cannot go unpunished. For such a heavy crime, a heavy punishment must follow, do you not agree?"
He gazed over the senate as it erupted in mutters.
"Your punishment," Octavian said, silencing the crowd, "Is to be denied complete membership of the legion."
Valen raised an eyebrow, inquisitively.
"It means that you will forever remain on probatio and never become a full member of the legion." Reyna said, sighing again.
Valen shrugged, "Alright."
Octavian's smile faltered, "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"
"I have no guilt for attacking a cold blooded murderer." He shot back. He turned to Reyna, "I believe an investigation will be done thoroughly, unbiased?"
Reyna nodded, "It will, I will see to it that it is done justly."
"That's all I ask," he nodded back, "May I leave now?"
"One last thing," she said, "I want you and the son of Neptune to wait at the Principia."
He furrowed his brows, but accepted nonetheless, "Alright."
"You may leave now."
And so, after shooting one last glare at Octavian, he left the senate.