Chapter Text
NOTHING WAS LEFT OF THE GIANTS except heaps of ash, a few spears and some burning dreadlocks.
The Argo II was still aloft, barely, moored to the top of the Parthenon. Half the ship’s oars were broken off or tangled. Smoke streamed from several large splits in the hull. The sails were peppered with burning holes.
Leo looked almost as bad. He stood in the midst of the temple with the other crew members, his face covered in soot, his clothes smouldering.
The gods fanned out in a semicircle as Zeus approached. None of them seemed particularly joyful about their victory.
Apollo and Artemis stood together in the shadow of a column, as if trying to hide. Athena and Poseidon were standing next to each other, not speaking, but looking rather melancholy. Hera was having an intense discussion with another goddess in green and gold robes—perhaps Demeter. Nike tried to put a golden laurel wreath on Hecate’s head, but the goddess of magic swatted it away. Hermes sneaked close to Athena, attempting to put his arm around her. Athena turned her aegis shield his way and Hermes scuffled off.
The only Olympian who seemed in a good mood was Ares. He laughed and pantomimed gutting an enemy while Frank listened, his expression polite but queasy.
“Brethren,” Zeus said, “we are healed, thanks to the work of these demigods. The Athena Parthenos, which once stood in this temple, now stands at Camp Half-Blood. It has united our offspring, and thus our own essences.”
Hazel’s head snapped up. “Are they okay? Reyna, Nico, Bianca, Coach Hedge?”
Zeus knitted his cloud-colored eyebrows. “They succeeded in their mission. As of this moment they are alive. Whether or not they are okay—”
“There is still work to be done,” Queen Hera interrupted. She spread her arms like she wanted a group hug. “But my heroes… you have triumphed over the giants as I knew you would. My plan succeeded beautifully.”
Zeus turned on his wife. Thunder shook the Acropolis. “Hera, do not dare take credit! You have caused at least as many problems as you’ve fixed!”
The queen of heaven blanched. “Husband, surely you see now—this was the only way.”
“There is never only one way!” Zeus bellowed. “That is why there are three Fates, not one. Is this not so?”
By the ruins of the giant king’s throne, the three old ladies silently bowed their heads in recognition. Jason noticed that the other gods stayed well away from the Fates and their gleaming brass clubs.
“Please, husband.” Hera tried for a smile, but she was so clearly frightened that Jason almost felt sorry for her. “I only did what I—”
“Silence!” Zeus snapped. “You disobeyed my orders. And you have brought those demigods further into our world.”
Alex and Magnus looked indignant. “Those demigods?” Alex sputtered. “You’re welcome for saving your sorry—”
Magnus elbowed him.
Hera scowled. “Percy Jackson did that. I warned him not to let them help. I told him they would only bring him trouble, but he did not listen. Now look what has happened.”
“Do not blame my son,” Poseidon said lowly.
“Father,” Athena interjected. “Hera was not completely without wisdom. For the most part, her plan to unite the seven heroes of the prophecy worked.” Her grey eyes fixed on the Queen of the Heavens. “Even though it was at the cost of my daughter and Jackson.”
Jason’s heart sank. “They’re dead?” he asked.
“No, no, no,” Bob said happily. “Percy and Annabeth friends are on their way to help. Yes, they are.”
“Here?” Frank asked hopefully.
Bob tilted his head. “No. Not here. Somewhere else.”
“How do you know that?” Piper asked.
“Bob is different,” the Titan said.
“Yes, well,” Zeus cleared his throat. “Apollo!” He glared into the shadows where the twins were standing. “My son, come here.”
Apollo inched forward like he was walking the plank. He looked so much like a teenage demigod it was unnerving—no more than seventeen, wearing jeans and a Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, with a bow over his shoulder and a sword at his belt. With his tousled blond hair and blue eyes, he might’ve been Jason’s brother on the mortal side as well as the godly side.
Jason wondered if Apollo had assumed this form to be inconspicuous, or to look pitiable to his father. The fear in Apollo’s face certainly looked real, and also very human.
The Three Fates gathered around the god, circling him, their withered hands raised.
“Twice you have defied me,” Zeus said.
Apollo moistened his lips. “My—my lord—”
“You neglected your duties. You succumbed to flattery and vanity. You encouraged your descendant Octavian to follow his dangerous path, and you prematurely revealed a prophecy that may yet destroy us all.”
“But—”
“Enough!” Zeus boomed. “We will speak of your punishment later. For now, you will wait on Olympus.”
Zeus flicked his hand, and Apollo turned into a cloud of glitter. The Fates swirled around him, dissolving into air, and the glittery whirlwind shot into the sky.
“What will happen to him?” Jason asked.
The gods stared at him, but Jason didn’t care. Having actually met Zeus, he had a newfound sympathy for Apollo.
“It is not your concern,” Zeus said. “We have other problems to address.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the Parthenon.
It didn’t feel right to let the matter go. Jason didn’t see how Apollo deserved to be singled out for punishment.
Someone must take the blame, Zeus had said.
But why?
“Father,” Jason said, “I made a vow to honor all the gods. I promised that once this war is over none of the gods would be without shrines at the camps.”
Zeus scowled. “That’s fine. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“My point,” Jason said, “is that blaming each other isn’t going solve anything. That’s how the Romans and Greeks got divided in the first place.”
The air became dangerously ionized. Jason’s scalp tingled.
He realized he was risking his father’s wrath. He might get turned into glitter or blasted off the Acropolis. He’d known his dad for five minutes and made a good impression. Now he was throwing it away.
A good Roman wouldn’t keep talking.
Jason kept talking. “Apollo wasn’t the problem. To punish him for Gaea waking is—” he wanted to say stupid, but he caught himself “—unwise.”
“Unwise.” Zeus’s voice was almost a whisper. “Before the assembled gods, you would call me unwise.”
Jason’s friends watched on full alert.
Then Artemis stepped out of the shadows. “Father, this hero has fought long and hard for our cause. His nerves are frayed. We should take that into account.”
Jason started to protest, but Artemis stopped him with a glance. Her expression sent a message so clear she might have been speaking in his mind: Thank you, demigod. But do not press this. I will reason with Zeus when he is calmer.
“Surely, Father,” the goddess continued, “we should attend to our more pressing problems, as you pointed out.”
“Gaea’s awake,” Piper said bluntly.
Aphrodite winced. “Yes, that’s correct. The blood of Olympus was spilled. She is fully conscious.”
“You must move quickly,” Athena said. “Gaea rises to destroy your camp.”
“And your friends Perry and Annie Bell are on their way there,” Dionysus said, speaking up for the first time. “Ariadne has shown them their path.”
“You mean they got out!” Magnus grinned. “They’re okay!”
Dionysus scowled. “Yes, yes. More brats for me to deal with.”
Athena and Poseidon glared at the wine god.
“Why would Gaea be back at camp?” Leo asked. “The blood of Olympus was spilled here.”
“Destroying Camp Half-Blood is the first item on her to-do list,” Alex said. “That’s literally all she could talk about.”
Frank looked at Zeus. “Um, sir, Your Majesty, can’t you gods just pop over there with us? You’ve got the chariots and the magic powers and whatnot.”
“Yes!” Hazel said. “We defeated the giants together in two seconds. Let’s all go—”
“No,” Zeus said flatly.
“No?” Jason asked. “But, Father—”
Zeus’s eyes sparked with power, and Jason realized he’d pushed his dad as far as he could for today… and maybe for the next few centuries.
“That’s the problem with prophecies,” Zeus growled. “When Apollo allowed the Prophecy of Seven to be spoken, and when Hera took it upon herself to interpret the words, the Fates wove the future in such a way that it had only so many possible outcomes, so many solutions. You seven, the demigods, are destined to defeat Gaea. We, the gods, cannot.”
“What’s the point of being gods if you have to rely on puny mortals to do your bidding?” Piper asked.
Aphrodite sent her a sad look. “It’s what binds us together, keeps us eternal. We need you mortals as much as you need us. And… my daughter… I am sorry for what has happened to you.”
“Can you do anything about it?” Jason asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Aphrodite sighed. “True love is rare and beautiful. It is the only thing that can reverse the lead arrow’s effects. But I cannot create love out of nothing just for my daughter’s sake. This will have to be undone in time.”
If it could be undone, Jason thought.
Frank shuffled uncomfortably, like he missed being an elephant. “So how can we possibly get to Camp Half-Blood in time to save it? It took us months to reach Greece.”
“The winds,” Jason said. “Father, can’t you unleash the winds to send our ship back?”
Zeus glowered. “I could slap you back to Long Island.”
“Um, was that a joke, or a threat, or—”
“No,” Zeus said, “I mean it quite literally. I could slap your ship back to Camp Half-Blood, but the force involved…”
Over by the ruined giant throne, the grungy god in the mechanic’s uniform shook his head. “My boy Leo built a good ship, but it won’t sustain that kind of stress. It would break apart as soon as it arrived, maybe sooner.”
Leo straightened his tool belt. “The Argo II can make it. It only has to stay in one piece long enough to get us back home. Once there, we can abandon ship.”
“Dangerous,” warned Hephaestus. “Perhaps fatal.”
The goddess Nike twirled a laurel wreath on her finger. “Victory is always dangerous. And it often requires sacrifice. Leo Valdez and I have discussed this.” She stared pointedly at Leo.
Jason didn’t like that at all. He remembered Asclepius’s grim expression when the doctor had examined Leo. Oh, my. Oh, I see… Jason knew what they had to do to defeat Gaea. He knew the risks. But he wanted to take those risks himself, not put them on Leo.
Piper will have the physician’s cure, he told himself. She’ll keep us both covered.
“Leo,” Hazel said, “what is Nike talking about?”
Leo waved off the question. “The usual. Victory. Sacrifice. Blah, blah, blah. Doesn’t matter. We can do this, guys. We have to do this.”
A feeling of dread settled over Jason. Zeus was correct about one thing: the worst was yet to come.
When the choice comes, Notus the South Wind had told him, storm or fire, do not despair.
Jason made the choice. “Leo’s right. All aboard for one last trip.” He looked at Bob and Damasen. “Thank you.”
“We should team up more often!” Ares roared, thumping Damasen on the back. “That was awesome!”
Damasen gave the war god a small smile, but he looked like he wanted someone to please get Ares far away from him.
“Say hello to Percy and Annabeth for us,” Damasen said to Jason. “We’ll try to get there eventually, but…” The in case this day goes south and we don’t see you ever again, went unsaid.
“We will,” Jason promised. He tried not to wince. An oath to keep with a final breath.