“Great,” Percy said. “So we’ve got two giants to worry about.”
The praetor nodded. “Lupa and her wolves are trying to slow them down, but this force is too strong even for them. The enemy will be here soon—by the Feast of Fortuna at the very latest.”
Percy shuddered. He’d seen Lupa in action. He knew all about the wolf goddess and her pack. If this enemy was too powerful for Lupa, Camp Jupiter didn’t stand a chance.
Reyna read his expression. “Yes, it’s bad, but not hopeless.
If you succeed in bringing back our eagle, if you release Death so we can actually kill our enemies, then we stand a chance. And there’s one more possibility.…”
Reyna slid the silver ring across the table. “I can’t give you much help, but your journey will take you close to Seattle. I’m asking you for a favor, which may also help you. Find my sister Hylla.”
“Your sister…the one who hates me?”
“Oh, yes,” Reyna agreed. “She would love to kill you. But show her that ring as a token from me, and she may help you instead.”
“May?”
“I can’t speak for her. In fact…” Reyna frowned. “In fact I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. She’s gone silent. With these armies passing through—”
“You want me to check on her,” Percy guessed. “Make sure she’s okay.”
“Partially, yes. I can’t imagine she’s been overcome. My sister has a powerful force. Her territory is well defended. But if you can find her, she could offer you valuable help. It could mean the difference between success and failure on your quest. And if you tell her what’s happening here—”
“She might send help?” Percy asked.
Reyna didn’t answer, but Percy could see the desperation in her eyes. She was terrified, grasping for anything that could save her camp. No wonder she wanted Percy’s help. She was the only praetor. The defense of the camp rested on her shoulders alone.
Percy took the ring. “I’ll find her. Where do I look? What kind force does she have?”
“Don’t worry. Just go to Seattle. They’ll find you.”
That didn’t sound encouraging, but Percy slipped the ring onto his leather necklace with his beads and his probatio tablet. “Wish me luck.”
“Fight well, Percy Jackson,” Reyna said. “And thank you.”
He could tell the audience was over. Reyna was having trouble holding herself together, keeping up the image of the confident commander. She needed some time by herself.
But at the door of the principia, Percy couldn’t resist turning. “How did we destroy your home—that spa where you lived?”
The metal greyhounds growled. Reyna snapped her fingers to silence them.
“You destroyed the power of our mistress,” she said. “You freed some prisoners who took revenge on all of us who lived on the island. My sister and I…well, we survived. It was difficult. But in the long run, I think we are better off away from that place.”
“Still, I’m sorry,” Percy said. “If I hurt you, I’m sorry.”
Reyna gazed at him for a long time, as if trying to translate his words. “An apology? Not very Roman at all, Percy Jackson. You’d make an interesting praetor. I hope you’ll think about my offer.”
XVI Percy
LUNCH FELT LIKE A FUNERAL PARTY. Everybody ate. People talked in hushed tones. Nobody seemed particularly happy. The other campers kept glancing over at Percy like he was the corpse of honor.
Reyna made a brief speech wishing them luck. Octavian ripped open a Beanie Baby and pronounced grave omens and hard times ahead, but predicted the camp would be saved by an unexpected hero (whose initials were probably OCTAVIAN). Then the other campers went off to their afternoon classes—gladiator fighting, Latin lessons, paintball with ghosts, eagle training, and a dozen other activities that sounded better than a suicide quest. Percy followed Hazel and Frank to the barracks to pack.
Percy didn’t have much. He’d cleaned up his backpack from his trip south and had kept most of his Bargain Mart supplies.
He had a fresh pair of jeans and an extra purple T-shirt from the camp quarter master, plus some nectar, ambrosia, snacks, a little mortal money, and camping supplies. At lunch, Reyna had handed him a scroll of introduction from the praetor and camp senate. Supposedly, any retired legionnaires they met on the trip would help them if shown the letter. He also kept his leather necklace with the beads, the silver ring, and the probatio tablet, and of course he had Riptide in his pocket.
He folded his tattered orange T-shirt and left it on his bunk.
“I’ll be back,” he said. He felt pretty stupid talking to a T-shirt, but he was really thinking of Annabeth, and his old life. “I’m not leaving for good. But I have to help these guys. They took me in. They deserve to survive.”
The T-shirt didn’t answer, thankfully.
One of their roommates, Bobby, gave them a ride to the border of the valley on Hannibal the elephant. From the hilltops, Percy could see everything below. The Little Tiber snaked across golden pastures where the unicorns were grazing. The temples and forums of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. On the Field of Mars, engineers were hard at work, pulling down the remains of last night’s fort and setting up barricades for a game of death ball. A normal day for Camp Jupiter—but on the northern horizon, storm clouds were gathering. Shadows moved across the hills, and Percy imagined the face of Gaea getting closer and closer.
Work with me for the future, Reyna had said. I intend to save this camp.