The Blood of Olympus(101)

Festus squeaked affirmatively.

Leo checked the ancient bronze astrolabe, which was now fitted with the crystal from Ogygia. Leo could only hope it would work.

‘I will get back to you, Calypso,’ he muttered. ‘I promised on the River Styx.’

He flipped a switch and brought the navigation device online. He set the timer for twenty-four hours.

Finally he opened the engine’s ventilator line and pushed inside the vial of physician’s cure. It disappeared into the veins of the ship with a decisive thunk.

‘Too late to turn back now,’ Leo said.

He curled on the floor and closed his eyes, determined to enjoy the familiar hum of the engine for one last night.





XXXVII


Reyna


‘TURN BACK!’

Reyna wasn’t keen to give orders to Pegasus, the Lord of Flying Horses, but she was even less keen to get shot out of the sky.

As they approached Camp Half-Blood in the predawn hours of 1 August, she spotted six Roman onagers. Even in the dark, their Imperial gold plating glinted. Their massive throwing arms bent back like ship masts listing in a storm. Crews of artillerists scurried around the machines, loading the slings, checking the torsion of the ropes.

‘What are those?’ Nico called.

He flew about twenty feet to her left on the dark pegasus Blackjack.

‘Siege weapons,’ Reyna said. ‘If we get any closer, they can shoot us out of the sky.’

‘From this high up?’

On her right, Coach Hedge shouted from the back of his steed, Guido, ‘Those are onagers, kid! Those things can kick higher than Bruce Lee!’

‘Lord Pegasus,’ Reyna said, resting her hand on the stallion’s neck, ‘we need a safe place to land.’

Pegasus seemed to understand. He wheeled to the left. The other flying horses followed – Blackjack, Guido and six others who were towing the Athena Parthenos beneath them on cables.

As they skirted the western edge of the camp, Reyna took in the scene. The legion lined the base of the eastern hills, ready for a dawn attack. The onagers were arrayed behind them in a loose semicircle at three-hundred-yard intervals. Judging from the size of the weapons, Reyna calculated that Octavian had enough firepower to destroy every living thing in the valley.

But that was only part of the threat. Encamped along the legion’s flanks were hundreds of auxilia forces. Reyna couldn’t see well in the dark, but she spotted at least one tribe of wild centaurs and an army of cynocephali, the dog-headed men who’d made an uneasy truce with the legion centuries ago. The Romans were badly outnumbered, surrounded by a sea of unreliable allies.

‘There.’ Nico pointed towards Long Island Sound, where the lights of a large yacht gleamed a quarter of a mile offshore. ‘We could land on the deck of that ship. The Greeks control the sea.’

Reyna wasn’t sure the Greeks would be any friendlier than the Romans, but Pegasus seemed to like the idea. He banked towards the dark waters of the Sound.

The ship was a white pleasure craft a hundred feet long, with sleek lines and dark tinted portals. Painted on the bow in red letters was the name MI AMOR. On the forward deck was a helipad big enough for the Athena Parthenos.

Reyna saw no crew. She guessed the ship was a regular mortal vessel anchored for the night, but if she was wrong and the ship was a trap …

‘It’s our best shot,’ Nico said. ‘The horses are tired. We need to set down.’

She nodded reluctantly. ‘Let’s do it.’

Pegasus landed on the forward deck with Guido and Blackjack. The six other horses gently set the Athena Parthenos on the helipad and then settled around it. With their cables and harnesses, they looked like carousel animals.

Reyna dismounted. As she had two days ago, when she first met Pegasus, she knelt before the horse.

‘Thank you, great one.’

Pegasus spread his wings and inclined his head.

Even now, after flying halfway up the East Coast together, Reyna could scarcely believe the immortal horse had allowed her to ride.

Reyna had always pictured him as solid white with dove-like wings, but Pegasus’s coat was rich brown, mottled with red and gold around the muzzle – which Hedge claimed were the marks where the stallion had emerged from the blood and ichor of his beheaded mother, Medusa. Pegasus’s wings were the colours of an eagle’s – gold, white, brown and rust – which made him look much more handsome and regal than plain white. He was the colour of all horses, representing all his offspring.

Lord Pegasus nickered.

Hedge trotted over to translate. ‘Pegasus says he should leave before the shooting starts. His life force connects all pegasi, see, so if he gets injured all winged horses feel his pain. That’s why he doesn’t get out much. He’s immortal, but his offspring aren’t. He doesn’t want them to suffer on his account. He’s asked the other horses to stay with us, to help us complete our mission.’