Hazel collapsed. Percy caught her. Frank ran towards them from across the field.
Leo was on his own as the goddess Nike disentangled herself from the wreckage and rose to face him. Her braided hairdo now resembled a stepped-on cow pat. A laurel wreath was stuck around her left ankle. Her horses got to their hooves and galloped away in a panic, dragging the soaked, half-burning wreckage of the chariot behind them.
‘YOU!’ Nike glared at Leo, her eyes hotter and brighter than her metal wings. ‘You dare?’
Leo didn’t feel very courageous, but he forced a smile. ‘I know, right? I’m awesome! Do I win a leaf hat now?’
‘You will die!’ The goddess raised her spear.
‘Hold that thought!’ Leo dug around in his tool belt. ‘You haven’t seen my best trick yet. I have a weapon guaranteed to win any contest!’
Nike hesitated. ‘What weapon? What do you mean?’
‘My ultimate zap-o-matic!’ He pulled out a second Archimedes sphere – the one he’d spent a whole thirty seconds modifying before they entered the stadium. ‘How many laurel wreaths have you got? Because I’m gonna win them all.’
He fiddled with dials, hoping he’d done his calculations right.
Leo had got better at making spheres, but they still weren’t completely reliable. More like twenty percent reliable.
It would’ve been nice to have Calypso’s help weaving the Celestial bronze filaments. She was an ace at weaving. Or Annabeth: she was no slouch. But Leo had done his best, rewiring the sphere to carry out two completely different functions.
‘Behold!’ Leo clicked the final dial. The sphere opened. One side elongated into a gun handle. The other side unfolded into a miniature radar dish made of Celestial bronze mirrors.
Nike frowned. ‘What is that supposed to be?’
‘An Archimedes death ray!’ Leo said. ‘I finally perfected it. Now give me all the prizes.’
‘Those things don’t work!’ Nike yelled. ‘They proved it on television! Besides, I’m an immortal goddess. You can’t destroy me!’
‘Watch closely,’ Leo said. ‘Are you watching?’
Nike could’ve zapped him into a grease spot or speared him like a cheese wedge, but her curiosity got the best of her. She stared straight into the dish as Leo flipped the switch. Leo knew to look away. Even so, the blazing beam of light left him seeing spots.
‘Gah!’ The goddess staggered. She dropped her spear and clutched at her eyes. ‘I’m blind! I’m blind!’
Leo hit another button on his death ray. It collapsed back into a sphere and began to hum. Leo counted silently to three, then tossed the sphere at the goddess’s feet.
FOOM! Metal filaments shot upward, wrapping Nike in a bronze net. She wailed, falling sideways as the net constricted, forcing her two forms – Greek and Roman – into a quivering, out-of-focus whole.
‘Trickery!’ Her doubled voices buzzed like muffled alarm clocks. ‘Your death ray did not even kill me!’
‘I don’t need to kill you,’ Leo said. ‘I vanquished you just fine.’
‘I will simply change form!’ she cried. ‘I will rip apart your silly net! I will destroy you!’
‘Yeah, see, you can’t.’ Leo hoped he was right. ‘That’s high-quality Celestial bronze netting, and I’m a son of Hephaestus. He’s kind of an expert on catching goddesses in nets.’
‘No. Nooooo!’
Leo left her thrashing and cursing, and went to check on his friends. Percy looked all right, just sore and bruised. Frank had propped Hazel up and was feeding her ambrosia. The cut on her leg had stopped bleeding, though her jeans were pretty much ruined.
‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘Just too much magic.’
‘You were awesome, Levesque.’ Leo did his best Hazel imitation: ‘Popcorn! Our fatal weakness!’
She smiled wanly. Together the four of them walked over to Nike, who was still writhing and flapping her wings in the net like a golden chicken.
‘What do we do with her?’ Percy asked.
‘Take her aboard the Argo II,’ Leo said. ‘Chuck her in one of the horse stalls.’
Hazel’s eyes widened. ‘You’re going to keep the goddess of victory in the stable?’
‘Why not? Once we sort things out between Greeks and Romans, the gods should go back to their normal selves. Then we can free her and she can … you know … grant us victory.’
‘Grant you victory?’ the goddess cried. ‘Never! You will suffer for this outrage! Your blood shall be spilled! One of you here – one of you four – is fated to die battling Gaia!’