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The Blood of Olympus(93)

By:Rick Riordan


Hazel and Frank waited at the Delos docks. Artemis was nowhere in sight.

When Leo turned to tell Apollo goodbye, the god was gone, too.

‘Man,’ Leo muttered, ‘he was really anxious to practice his Valdezinator.’

‘His what?’ Hazel asked.

Leo told them about his new hobby as a genius inventor of musical funnels.

Frank scratched his head. ‘And in exchange you got a daisy?’

‘It’s the final ingredient to cure death, Zhang. It’s a super daisy! How about you guys? Learn anything from Artemis?’

‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Hazel gazed across the water, where the Argo II bobbed at anchor. ‘Artemis knows a lot about missile weapons. She told us Octavian has ordered some … surprises for Camp Half-Blood. He’s used most of the legion’s treasure to purchase Cyclopes-built onagers.’

‘Oh, no, not onagers!’ Leo said. ‘Also, what’s an onager?’

Frank scowled. ‘You build machines. How can you not know what an onager is? It’s just the biggest, baddest catapult ever used by the Roman army.’

‘Fine,’ Leo said. ‘But onager is a stupid name. They should’ve called them Valdezapults.’

Hazel rolled her eyes. ‘Leo, this is serious. If Artemis is right, six of these machines will be rolling into Long Island tomorrow night. That’s what Octavian has been waiting for. At dawn on August first, he’ll have enough firepower to completely destroy Camp Half-Blood without a single Roman casualty. He thinks that’ll make him a hero.’

Frank muttered a Latin curse. ‘Except he’s also summoned so many monstrous “allies” that the legion is completely surrounded by wild centaurs, tribes of dog-headed cynocephali, and who knows what else. As soon as the legion destroys Camp Half-Blood, the monsters will turn on Octavian and destroy the legion.’

‘And then Gaia rises,’ Leo said. ‘And bad stuff happens.’

In his head, gears turned as the new information clicked into place. ‘All right … this just makes my plan even more important. Once we get this physician’s cure, I’m going to need your help. Both of you.’

Frank glanced nervously at the cursed yellow daisy. ‘What kind of help?’

Leo told them his plan. The more he talked, the more shocked they looked, but when he was done neither of them told him he was crazy. A tear glistened on Hazel’s cheek.

‘It has to be this way,’ Leo said. ‘Nike confirmed it. Apollo confirmed it. The others would never accept it, but you guys … you’re Romans. That’s why I wanted you to come to Delos with me. You get the whole sacrifice thing – doing your duty, jumping on your sword.’

Frank sniffled. ‘I think you mean falling on your sword.’

‘Whatever,’ Leo said. ‘You know this has to be the answer.’

‘Leo …’ Frank choked up.

Leo himself wanted to cry like a Valdezinator, but he kept his cool. ‘Hey, big guy, I’m counting on you. Remember you told me about that conversation with Mars? Your dad said you’d have to step up, right? You’d have to make the call nobody else was willing to make.’

‘Or the war would go sideways,’ Frank remembered. ‘But still –’

‘And Hazel,’ Leo said. ‘Crazy Mist-magicky Hazel, you’ve got to cover for me. You’re the only one who can. My great-granddad Sammy saw how special you were. He blessed me when I was a baby, because I think somehow he knew you were going to come back and help me. Our whole lives, mi amiga, they’ve been leading up to this.’

‘Oh, Leo …’ She really did burst into tears then. She grabbed him and hugged him, which was sweet until Frank started crying too and wrapped them both in his arms.

That got a little weird.

‘Okay, well …’ Leo gently extricated himself. ‘So we’re in agreement?’

‘I hate this plan,’ Frank said.

‘I despise it,’ Hazel said.

‘Think how I feel,’ Leo said. ‘But you know it’s our best shot.’

Neither of them argued. Leo kind of wished they had.

‘Let’s get back to the ship,’ he said. ‘We have a healer god to find.’





XXXV


Leo


LEO SPOTTED THE SECRET ENTRANCE IMMEDIATELY.

‘Oh, that’s beautiful.’ He manoeuvred the ship over the ruins of Epidaurus.

The Argo II really wasn’t in good shape to fly, but Leo had got her airborne after only one night of work. With the world ending tomorrow morning, he was highly motivated.

He’d primed the oar flaps. He’d injected Styx water into the samophlange. He’d treated Festus the figurehead to his favourite brew – thirty-weight motor oil and Tabasco sauce. Even Buford the Wonder Table had pitched in, rattling around belowdecks while his holographic Mini-Hedge yelled, ‘GIVE ME THIRTY PUSH-UPS!’ to inspire the engine.