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The Blood of Olympus(11)

By:Rick Riordan


He summoned the winds and flung three ghouls off the side of the hill like rag dolls. He skewered a fourth, then willed his javelin to shrink back to a sword and hacked through another group of spirits.

Soon no more enemies faced him. The remaining ghosts began to disappear on their own. Annabeth cut down Hasdrubal the Carthaginian, and Jason made the mistake of sheathing his sword.

Pain flared in his lower back – so sharp and cold he thought Khione the snow goddess had touched him.

Next to his ear, Michael Varus snarled, ‘Born a Roman, die a Roman.’

The tip of a golden sword jutted through the front of Jason’s shirt, just below his ribcage.

Jason fell to his knees. Piper’s scream sounded miles away. He felt like he’d been immersed in salty water – his body weightless, his head swaying.

Piper charged towards him. He watched with detached emotion as her sword passed over his head and cut through Michael Varus’s armour with a metallic ka-chunk.

A burst of cold parted Jason’s hair from behind. Dust settled around him, and an empty legionnaire’s helmet rolled across the stones. The evil demigod was gone – but he had made a lasting impression.

‘Jason!’ Piper grabbed his shoulders as he began to fall sideways. He gasped as she pulled the sword out of his back. Then she lowered him to the ground, propping his head against a stone.

Annabeth ran to their side. She had a nasty cut on the side of her neck.

‘Gods.’ Annabeth stared at the wound in Jason’s gut. ‘Oh, gods.’

‘Thanks,’ Jason groaned. ‘I was afraid it might be bad.’

His arms and legs started to tingle as his body went into crisis mode, sending all the blood to his chest. The pain was dull, which surprised him, but his shirt was soaked red. The wound was smoking. He was pretty sure sword wounds weren’t supposed to smoke.

‘You’re going to be fine.’ Piper spoke the words like an order. Her tone steadied his breathing. ‘Annabeth, ambrosia!’

Annabeth stirred. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I got it.’ She ripped through her supply pouch and unwrapped a piece of godly food.

‘We have to stop the bleeding.’ Piper used her dagger to cut fabric from the bottom of her dress. She ripped the cloth into bandages.

Jason dimly wondered how she knew so much first aid. She wrapped the wounds on his back and stomach while Annabeth pushed tiny bites of ambrosia into his mouth.

Annabeth’s fingers trembled. After all the things she’d been through, Jason found it odd that she would freak out now while Piper acted so calm. Then it occurred to him – Annabeth could afford to be scared for him. Piper couldn’t. She was completely focused on trying to save him.

Annabeth fed him another bite. ‘Jason, I – I’m sorry. About your mom. But the way you handled it … that was so brave.’

Jason tried not to close his eyes. Every time he did, he saw his mom’s spirit disintegrating.

‘It wasn’t her,’ he said. ‘At least, no part of her I could save. There was no other choice.’

Annabeth took a shaky breath. ‘No other right choice, maybe, but … a friend of mine, Luke. His mom … similar problem. He didn’t handle it as well.’

Her voice broke. Jason didn’t know much about Annabeth’s past, but Piper glanced over in concern.

‘I’ve bandaged as much as I can,’ she said. ‘Blood is still soaking through. And the smoke. I don’t get that.’

‘Imperial gold,’ Annabeth said, her voice quavering. ‘It’s deadly to demigods. It’s only a matter of time before –’

‘He’ll be all right,’ Piper insisted. ‘We’ve got to get him back to the ship.’

‘I don’t feel that bad,’ Jason said. And it was true. The ambrosia had cleared his head. Warmth was seeping back into his limbs. ‘Maybe I could fly …’

Jason sat up. His vision turned a pale shade of green. ‘Or maybe not …’

Piper caught his shoulders as he keeled sideways. ‘Whoa, Sparky. We need to contact the Argo II, get help.’

‘You haven’t called me Sparky in a long time.’

Piper kissed his forehead. ‘Stick with me and I’ll insult you all you want.’

Annabeth scanned the ruins. The magic veneer had faded, leaving only broken walls and excavation pits. ‘We could use the emergency flares, but –’

‘No,’ Jason said. ‘Leo would blast the top of the hill with Greek fire. Maybe, if you guys helped me, I could walk –’

‘Absolutely not,’ Piper objected. ‘That would take too long.’ She rummaged in her belt pouch and pulled out a compact mirror. ‘Annabeth, you know Morse code?’