The Blood of Olympus(83)

A cold tide rose in Nico’s chest. ‘A mania,’ he speculated. ‘I’ve seen it before. A human withers away until he’s not human any more. Only his worst qualities remain. His insanity …’

It was clear from Reyna’s expression that his explanation wasn’t helping.

‘Whatever he was,’ Reyna said, ‘he became impossible to live with. Hylla and I escaped the house as often as we could, but eventually we’d come … back … and face his rage. We didn’t know what else to do. He was our only family. The last time we returned, he – he was so angry he was literally glowing. He couldn’t physically touch things any more, but he could move them … like a poltergeist, I guess. He tore up the floor tiles. He ripped open the sofa. Finally he tossed a chair and it hit Hylla. She collapsed. She was only knocked unconscious, but I thought she was dead. She’d spent so many years protecting me … I just lost it. I grabbed the nearest weapon I could find – a family heirloom, the Pirate Confresí’s sabre. I – I didn’t know it was Imperial gold. I ran at my father’s spirit and …’

‘You vaporized him,’ Nico guessed.

Reyna’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I killed my own father.’

‘No. Reyna, no. That wasn’t him. That was a ghost. Even worse: a mania. You were protecting your sister.’

She twisted the silver ring on her finger. ‘You don’t understand. Patricide is the worst crime a Roman can commit. It’s unforgivable.’

‘You didn’t kill your father. The man was already dead,’ Nico insisted. ‘You dispelled a ghost.’

‘It doesn’t matter!’ Reyna sobbed. ‘If word of this got out at Camp Jupiter –’

‘You’d be executed,’ said a new voice.

At the edge of the woods stood a Roman legionnaire in full armour, holding a pilum. A mop of brown hair hung in his eyes. His nose had obviously been broken at least once, which made his smile look even more sinister. ‘Thank you for your confession, former praetor. You’ve made my job much easier.’





XXX


Nico


COACH HEDGE CHOSE THAT MOMENT to burst into the clearing, waving a paper aeroplane and yelling, ‘Good news, everyone!’

He froze when he saw the Roman. ‘Oh … never mind.’

He quickly crumpled the aeroplane and ate it.

Reyna and Nico got to their feet. Aurum and Argentum scampered to Reyna’s side and growled at the intruder.

How this guy had got so close with none of them noticing, Nico didn’t understand.

‘Bryce Lawrence,’ Reyna said. ‘Octavian’s newest attack dog.’

The Roman inclined his head. His eyes were green, but not sea green like Percy’s … more like pond-scum green.

‘The augur has many attack dogs,’ Bryce said. ‘I’m just the lucky one who found you. Your Graecus friend here –’ he pointed his chin at Nico – ‘he was easy to track. He stinks of the Underworld.’

Nico unsheathed his sword. ‘You know the Underworld? Would you like me to arrange a visit?’

Bryce laughed. His front teeth were two different shades of yellow. ‘Do you think you can frighten me? I’m a descendant of Orcus, the god of broken vows and eternal punishment. I’ve heard the screams in the Fields of Punishment firsthand. They’re music to my ears. Soon, I’ll be adding one more damned soul to the chorus.’

He grinned at Reyna. ‘Patricide, eh? Octavian will love this news. You are under arrest for multiple violations of Roman law.’

‘You being here is against Roman law,’ Reyna said. ‘Romans don’t quest alone. A mission has to be led by someone of centurion rank or higher. You’re in probatio, and even giving you that rank was a mistake. You have no right to arrest me.’

Bryce shrugged. ‘In times of war, some rules have to be flexible. But don’t worry. Once I bring you in for trial, I’ll be rewarded with full membership in the legion. I imagine I’ll be promoted to centurion, too. Doubtless there will be vacancies after the coming battle. Some officers won’t survive, especially if their loyalties aren’t in the right place.’

Coach Hedge hefted his bat. ‘I don’t know the proper Roman etiquette, but can I bash this kid now?’

‘A faun,’ Bryce said. ‘Interesting. I heard the Greeks actually trusted their goat men.’

Hedge bleated. ‘I’m a satyr. And you can trust I’m going to put this bat upside your head, you little punk.’

The coach advanced, but, as soon as his foot touched the cairn, the stones rumbled like they were coming to the boil. Out of the grave site, skeletal warriors erupted – spartoi in the tattered remains of British redcoat uniforms.