The Mark of Athena

She felt it again—that familiar shiver, as if a psychotic snowman had crept up behind her and was breathing down her neck. She turned, but no one was there.

Must be her nerves. Even in a world of gods and monsters, Annabeth couldn’t believe a new warship would be haunted. The Argo II was well protected. The Celestial bronze shields along the rail were enchanted to ward off monsters, and their onboard satyr, Coach Hedge, would have sniffed out any intruders.

Annabeth wished she could pray to her mother for guidance, but that wasn’t possible now. Not after last month, when she’d had that horrible encounter with her mom and gotten the worst present of her life.…

The cold pressed closer. She thought she heard a faint voice in the wind, laughing. Every muscle in her body tensed. Something was about to go terribly wrong.

She almost ordered Leo to reverse course. Then, in the valley below, horns sounded. The Romans had spotted them.

Annabeth thought she knew what to expect. Jason had described Camp Jupiter to her in great detail. Still, she had trouble believing her eyes. Ringed by the Oakland Hills, the valley was at least twice the size of Camp Half-Blood. A small river snaked around one side and curled toward the center like a capital letter G, emptying into a sparkling blue lake.

Directly below the ship, nestled at the edge of the lake, the city of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. She recognized landmarks Jason had told her about—the hippodrome, the coliseum, the temples and parks, the neighborhood of Seven Hills with its winding streets, colorful villas, and flowering gardens.

She saw evidence of the Romans’ recent battle with an army of monsters. The dome was cracked open on a building she guessed was the Senate House. The forum’s broad plaza was pitted with craters. Some fountains and statues were in ruins.

Dozens of kids in togas were streaming out of the Senate House to get a better view of the Argo II. More Romans emerged from the shops and cafés, gawking and pointing as the ship descended.

About half a mile to the west, where the horns were blowing, a Roman fort stood on a hill. It looked just like the illustrations Annabeth had seen in military history books—with a defensive trench lined with spikes, high walls, and watchtowers armed with scorpion ballistae. Inside, perfect rows of white barracks lined the main road—the Via Principalis.

A column of demigods emerged from the gates, their armor and spears glinting as they hurried toward the city. In the midst of their ranks was an actual war elephant.

Annabeth wanted to land the Argo II before those troops arrived, but the ground was still several hundred feet below. She scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Percy.

Then something behind her went BOOM!

The explosion almost knocked her overboard. She whirled and found herself eye to eye with an angry statue.

“Unacceptable!” he shrieked.

Apparently he had exploded into existence, right there on the deck. Sulfurous yellow smoke rolled off his shoulders. Cinders popped around his curly hair. From the waist down, he was nothing but a square marble pedestal. From the waist up, he was a muscular human figure in a carved toga.

“I will not have weapons inside the Pomerian Line!” he announced in a fussy teacher voice. “I certainly will not have Greeks!”

Jason shot Annabeth a look that said, I’ve got this.

“Terminus,” he said. “It’s me. Jason Grace.”

“Oh, I remember you, Jason!” Terminus grumbled. “I thought you had better sense than to consort with the enemies of Rome!”

“But they’re not enemies—”

“That’s right,” Piper jumped in. “We just want to talk. If we could—”

“Ha!” snapped the statue. “Don’t try that charmspeak on me, young lady. And put down that dagger before I slap it out of your hands!”

Piper glanced at her bronze dagger, which she’d apparently forgotten she was holding. “Um…okay. But how would you slap it? You don’t have any arms.”

“Impertinence!” There was a sharp POP and a flash of yellow. Piper yelped and dropped the dagger, which was now smoking and sparking.

“Lucky for you I’ve just been through a battle,” Terminus announced. “If I were at full strength, I would’ve blasted this flying monstrosity out of the sky already!”

“Hold up.” Leo stepped forward, wagging his Wii controller. “Did you just call my ship a monstrosity? I know you didn’t do that.”

The idea that Leo might attack the statue with his gaming device was enough to snap Annabeth out of her shock.

“Let’s all calm down.” She raised her hands to show she had no weapons. “I take it you’re Terminus, the god of boundaries. Jason told me you protect the city of New Rome, right? I’m Annabeth Chase, daughter of—”

“Oh, I know who you are!” The statue glared at her with its blank white eyes. “A child of Athena, Minerva’s Greek form. Scandalous! You Greeks have no sense of decency. We Romans know the proper place for that goddess.”

Annabeth clenched her jaw. This statue wasn’t making it easy to be diplomatic. “What exactly do you mean, that goddess? And what’s so scandalous about—”

“Right!” Jason interrupted. “Anyway, Terminus, we’re here on a mission of peace. We’d love permission to land so we can—”

“Impossible!” the god squeaked. “Lay down your weapons and surrender! Leave my city immediately!”

“Which is it?” Leo asked. “Surrender, or leave?”

“Both!” Terminus said. “Surrender, then leave. I am slapping your face for asking such a stupid question, you ridiculous boy! Do you feel that?”

“Wow.” Leo studied Terminus with professional interest. “You’re wound up pretty tight. You got any gears in there that need loosening? I could take a look.”

He exchanged the Wii controller for a screwdriver from his magic tool belt and tapped the statue’s pedestal.

“Stop that!” Terminus insisted. Another small explosion made Leo drop his screwdriver. “Weapons are not allowed on Roman soil inside the Pomerian Line.”

“The what?” Piper asked.

“City limits,” Jason translated.

“And this entire ship is a weapon!” Terminus said. “You cannot land!”

Down in the valley, the legion reinforcements were halfway to the city. The crowd in the forum was over a hundred strong now. Annabeth scanned the faces and…oh, gods. She saw him. He was walking toward the ship with his arms around two other kids like they were best buddies—a stout boy with a black buzz cut, and a girl wearing a Roman cavalry helmet. Percy looked so at ease, so happy. He wore a purple cape just like Jason’s—the mark of a praetor.

Annabeth’s heart did a gymnastics routine.

“Leo, stop the ship,” she ordered.

“What?”

“You heard me. Keep us right where we are.”

Leo pulled out his controller and yanked it upward. All ninety oars froze in place. The ship stopped sinking.

“Terminus,” Annabeth said, “there’s no rule against hovering over New Rome, is there?”

The statue frowned. “Well, no…”

“We can keep the ship aloft,” Annabeth said. “We’ll use a rope ladder to reach the forum. That way, the ship won’t be on Roman soil. Not technically.”

The statue seemed to ponder this. Annabeth wondered if he was scratching his chin with imaginary hands.

“I like technicalities,” he admitted. “Still…”

“All our weapons will stay aboard the ship,” Annabeth promised. “I assume the Romans—even those reinforcements marching toward us—will also have to honor your rules inside the Pomerian Line if you tell them to?”

“Of course!” Terminus said. “Do I look like I tolerate rule breakers?”

“Uh, Annabeth…” Leo said. “You sure this is a good idea?”

She closed her fists to keep them from shaking. That cold feeling was still there. It floated just behind her, and now that Terminus was no longer shouting and causing explosions, she thought she could hear the presence laughing, as if it was delighted by the bad choices she was making.

But Percy was down there…he was so close. She had to reach him.

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “No one will be armed. We can talk in peace. Terminus will make sure each side obeys the rules.” She looked at the marble statue. “Do we have an agreement?”

Terminus sniffed. “I suppose. For now. You may climb down your ladder to New Rome, daughter of Athena. Please try not to destroy my town.”

A sea of hastily assembled demigods parted for Annabeth as she walked through the forum. Some looked tense, some nervous. Some were bandaged from their recent battle with the giants, but no one was armed. No one attacked.

Entire families had gathered to see the newcomers. Annabeth saw couples with babies, toddlers clinging to their parents’ legs, even some elderly folks in a combination of Roman robes and modern clothes. Were all of them demigods? Annabeth suspected so, though she’d never seen a place like this. At Camp Half-Blood, most demigods were teens. If they survived long enough to graduate from high school, they either stayed on as counselors or left to start lives as best they could in the mortal world. Here, it was an entire multigenerational community.

At the far end of the crowd, Annabeth spotted Tyson the Cyclops and Percy’s hellhound, Mrs. O’Leary—who had been the first scouting party from Camp Half-Blood to reach Camp Jupiter. They looked to be in good spirits. Tyson waved and grinned. He was wearing an SPQR banner like a giant bib.

Some part of Annabeth’s mind registered how beautiful the city was—the smells from the bakeries, the gurgling fountains, the flowers blooming in the gardens. And the architecture…gods, the architecture—gilded marble columns, dazzling mosaics, monumental arches, and terraced villas.

In front of her, the demigods made way for a girl in full Roman armor and a purple cape. Dark hair tumbled across her shoulders. Her eyes were as black as obsidian.

Reyna.

Jason had described her well. Even without that, Annabeth would have singled her out as the leader. Medals decorated her armor. She carried herself with such confidence the other demigods backed away and averted their gaze.

Annabeth recognized something else in her face, too—in the hard set of her mouth and the deliberate way she raised her chin like she was ready to accept any challenge. Reyna was forcing a look of courage, while holding back a mixture of hopefulness and worry and fear that she couldn’t show in public.

Annabeth knew that expression. She saw it every time she looked in a mirror.

The two girls considered each other. Annabeth’s friends fanned out on either side. The Romans murmured Jason’s name, staring at him in awe.

Then someone else appeared from the crowd, and Annabeth’s vision tunneled.

Percy smiled at her—that sarcastic, troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years but eventually had become endearing. His sea-green eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair was swept to one side, like he’d just come from a walk on the beach. He looked even better than he had six months ago—tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular.

Annabeth was too stunned to move. She felt that if she got any closer to him, all the molecules in her body might combust. She’d secretly had a crush on him since they were twelve years old. Last summer, she’d fallen for him hard. They’d been a happy couple for four months—and then he’d disappeared.

During their separation, something had happened to Annabeth’s feelings. They’d grown painfully intense—like she’d been forced to withdraw from a life-saving medication. Now she wasn’t sure which was more excruciating—living with that horrible absence, or being with him again.

The praetor Reyna straightened. With apparent reluctance, she turned toward Jason.

“Jason Grace, my former colleague…” She spoke the word colleague like it was a dangerous thing. “I welcome you home. And these, your friends—”

Annabeth didn’t mean to, but she surged forward. Percy rushed toward her at the same time. The crowd tensed. Some reached for swords that weren’t there.

Percy threw his arms around her. They kissed, and for a moment nothing else mattered. An asteroid could have hit the planet and wiped out all life, and Annabeth wouldn’t have cared.

Percy smelled of ocean air. His lips were salty.

Seaweed Brain, she thought giddily.

Percy pulled away and studied her face. “Gods, I never thought—”

Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, “Hold! Stand down!”

Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest—a tumor of worry and bitterness that she’d been carrying around since last autumn.

“If you ever leave me again,” she said, her eyes stinging, “I swear to all the gods—”

Percy had the nerve to laugh. Suddenly the lump of heated emotions melted inside Annabeth.

“Consider me warned,” Percy said. “I missed you, too.”

Annabeth rose and helped him to his feet. She wanted to kiss him again so badly, but she managed to restrain herself.

Jason cleared his throat. “So, yeah.…It’s good to be back.”

He introduced Reyna to Piper, who looked a little miffed that she hadn’t gotten to say the lines she’d been practicing, then to Leo, who grinned and flashed a peace sign.

“And this is Annabeth,” Jason said. “Uh, normally she doesn’t judo-flip people.”

Reyna’s eyes sparkled. “You sure you’re not a Roman, Annabeth? Or an Amazon?”

Annabeth didn’t know if that was a compliment, but she held out her hand. “I only attack my boyfriend like that,” she promised. “Pleased to meet you.”

Reyna clasped her hand firmly. “It seems we have a lot to discuss. Centurions!”

A few of the Roman campers hustled forward—apparently the senior officers. Two kids appeared at Percy’s side, the same ones Annabeth had seen him chumming around with earlier. The burly Asian guy with the buzz cut was about fifteen. He was cute in a sort of oversized-cuddly-panda-bear way. The girl was younger, maybe thirteen, with amber eyes and chocolate skin and long curly hair. Her cavalry helmet was tucked under her arm.

Annabeth could tell from their body language that they felt close to Percy. They stood next to him protectively, like they’d already shared many adventures. She fought down a twinge of jealousy. Was it possible Percy and this girl…no. The chemistry between the three of them wasn’t like that. Annabeth had spent her whole life learning to read people. It was a survival skill. If she had to guess, she’d say the big Asian guy was the girl’s boyfriend, though she suspected they hadn’t been together long.

There was one thing she didn’t understand: what was the girl staring at? She kept frowning in Piper and Leo’s direction, like she recognized one of them and the memory was painful.

Meanwhile, Reyna was giving orders to her officers. “…tell the legion to stand down. Dakota, alert the spirits in the kitchen. Tell them to prepare a welcome feast. And, Octavian—”

“You’re letting these intruders into the camp?” A tall guy with stringy blond hair elbowed his way forward. “Reyna, the security risks—”

“We’re not taking them to the camp, Octavian.” Reyna flashed him a stern look. “We’ll eat here, in the forum.”

“Oh, much better,” Octavian grumbled. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t defer to Reyna as his superior, despite the fact that he was scrawny and pale and for some reason had three teddy bears hanging from his belt. “You want us to relax in the shadow of their warship.”

“These are our guests.” Reyna clipped off every word. “We will welcome them, and we will talk to them. As augur, you should burn an offering to thank the gods for bringing Jason back to us safely.”

“Good idea,” Percy put in. “Go burn your bears, Octavian.”

Reyna looked like she was trying not to smile. “You have my orders. Go.”

The officers dispersed. Octavian shot Percy a look of absolute loathing. Then he gave Annabeth a suspicious once-over and stalked away.

Percy slipped his hand into Annabeth’s. “Don’t worry about Octavian,” he said. “Most of the Romans are good people—like Frank and Hazel here, and Reyna. We’ll be fine.”

Annabeth felt as if someone had draped a cold washcloth across her neck. She heard that whispering laughter again, as if the presence had followed her from the ship.

She looked up at the Argo II. Its massive bronze hull glittered in the sunlight. Part of her wanted to kidnap Percy right now, climb on board, and get out of here while they still could.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. And there was no way she would ever risk losing Percy again.

“We’ll be fine,” she repeated, trying to believe it.

“Excellent,” Reyna said. She turned to Jason, and Annabeth thought there was a hungry sort of gleam in her eyes. “Let’s talk, and we can have a proper reunion.”

Annabeth wished she had an appetite, because the Romans knew how to eat.

Sets of couches and low tables were carted into the forum until it resembled a furniture showroom. Romans lounged in groups of ten or twenty, talking and laughing while wind spirits—aurae—swirled overhead, bringing an endless assortment of pizzas, sandwiches, chips, cold drinks, and fresh-baked cookies. Drifting through the crowd were purple ghosts—Lares—in togas and legionnaire armor. Around the edges of the feast, satyrs (no, fauns, Annabeth thought) trotted from table to table, panhandling for food and spare change. In the nearby fields, the war elephant frolicked with Mrs. O’Leary, and children played tag around the statues of Terminus that lined the city limits.

The whole scene was so familiar yet so completely alien that it gave Annabeth vertigo.

All she wanted to do was be with Percy—preferably alone. She knew she would have to wait. If their quest was going to succeed, they needed these Romans, which meant getting to know them and building some goodwill.

Reyna and a few of her officers (including the blond kid Octavian, freshly back from burning a teddy bear for the gods) sat with Annabeth and her crew. Percy joined them with his two new friends, Frank and Hazel.

As a tornado of food platters settled onto the table, Percy leaned over and whispered, “I want to show you around New Rome. Just you and me. The place is incredible.”

Annabeth should’ve felt thrilled. Just you and me was exactly what she wanted. Instead, resentment swelled in her throat. How could Percy talk so enthusiastically about this place? What about Camp Half-Blood—their camp, their home?

She tried not to stare at the new marks on Percy’s forearm—an SPQR tattoo like Jason’s. At Camp Half-Blood, demigods got bead necklaces to commemorate years of training. Here, the Romans burned a tattoo into your flesh, as if to say: You belong to us. Permanently.

She swallowed back some biting comments. “Okay. Sure.”

“I’ve been thinking,” he said nervously. “I had this idea—”

He stopped as Reyna called a toast to friendship.

After introductions all around, the Romans and Annabeth’s crew began exchanging stories. Jason explained how he’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood without his memory, and how he’d gone on a quest with Piper and Leo to rescue the goddess Hera (or Juno, take your pick—she was equally annoying in Greek or Roman) from imprisonment at the Wolf House in northern California.

“Impossible!” Octavian broke in. “That’s our most sacred place. If the giants had imprisoned a goddess there—”

“They would’ve destroyed her,” Piper said. “And blamed it on the Greeks, and started a war between the camps. Now, be quiet and let Jason finish.”

Octavian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Annabeth really loved Piper’s charmspeak. She noticed Reyna looking back and forth between Jason and Piper, her brow creased, as if just beginning to realize the two of them were a couple.

“So,” Jason continued, “that’s how we found out about the earth goddess Gaea. She’s still half asleep, but she’s the one freeing the monsters from Tartarus and raising the giants. Porphyrion, the big leader dude we fought at the Wolf House: he said he was retreating to the ancient lands—Greece itself. He plans on awakening Gaea and destroying the gods by…what did he call it? Pulling up their roots.”

Percy nodded thoughtfully. “Gaea’s been busy over here, too. We had our own encounter with Queen Dirt Face.”

Percy recounted his side of the story. He talked about waking up at the Wolf House with no memories except for one name—Annabeth.

When she heard that, Annabeth had to try hard not to cry. Percy told them how he’d traveled to Alaska with Frank and Hazel—how they’d defeated the giant Alcyoneus, freed the death god Thanatos, and returned with the lost golden eagle standard of the Roman camp to repel an attack by the giants’ army.

When Percy had finished, Jason whistled appreciatively. “No wonder they made you praetor.”

Octavian snorted. “Which means we now have three praetors! The rules clearly state we can only have two!”

“On the bright side,” Percy said, “both Jason and I outrank you, Octavian. So we can both tell you to shut up.”

Octavian turned as purple as a Roman T-shirt. Jason gave Percy a fist bump.

Even Reyna managed a smile, though her eyes were stormy.

“We’ll have to figure out the extra praetor problem later,” she said. “Right now we have more serious issues to deal with.”

“I’ll step aside for Jason,” Percy said easily. “It’s no biggie.”

“No biggie?” Octavian choked. “The praetorship of Rome is no biggie?”

Percy ignored him and turned to Jason. “You’re Thalia Grace’s brother, huh? Wow. You guys look nothing alike.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jason said. “Anyway, thanks for helping my camp while I was gone. You did an awesome job.”

“Back at you,” Percy said.

Annabeth kicked his shin. She hated to interrupt a budding bromance, but Reyna was right: they had serious things to discuss. “We should talk about the Great Prophecy. It sounds like the Romans are aware of it too?”

Reyna nodded. “We call it the Prophecy of Seven. Octavian, you have it committed to memory?”

“Of course,” he said. “But, Reyna—”

“Recite it, please. In English, not Latin.”

Octavian sighed. “Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire the world must fall—”

“An oath to keep with a final breath,” Annabeth continued. “And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.”

Everyone stared at her—except for Leo, who had constructed a pinwheel out of aluminum foil taco wrappers and was sticking it into passing wind spirits.

Annabeth wasn’t sure why she had blurted out the lines of the prophecy. She’d just felt compelled.

The big kid, Frank, sat forward, staring at her in fascination, as if she’d grown a third eye. “Is it true you’re a child of Min—I mean, Athena?”

“Yes,” she said, suddenly feeling defensive. “Why is that such a surprise?”

Octavian scoffed. “If you’re truly a child of the wisdom goddess—”

“Enough,” Reyna snapped. “Annabeth is what she says. She’s here in peace. Besides…” She gave Annabeth a look of grudging respect. “Percy has spoken highly of you.”

The undertones in Reyna’s voice took Annabeth a moment to decipher. Percy looked down, suddenly interested in his cheeseburger.

Annabeth’s face felt hot. Oh, gods…Reyna had tried to make a move on Percy. That explained the tinge of bitterness, maybe even envy, in her words. Percy had turned her down for Annabeth.

At that moment, Annabeth forgave her ridiculous boyfriend for everything he’d ever done wrong. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but she commanded herself to stay cool.

“Uh, thanks,” she told Reyna. “At any rate, some of the prophecy is becoming clear. Foes bearing arms to the Doors of Death…that means Romans and Greeks. We have to combine forces to find those doors.”

Hazel, the girl with the cavalry helmet and the long curly hair, picked up something next to her plate. It looked like a large ruby; but before Annabeth could be sure, Hazel slipped it into the pocket of her denim shirt.