The Blood of Olympus (The Heroes of Olympus, Book 5)

PIPER’S DAD USED TO SAY that being in the airport didn’t count as visiting a city. Piper felt the same way about sewers.

From the port to the Acropolis, she didn’t see anything of Athens except dark, putrid tunnels. The snake men led them through an iron storm grate at the docks, straight into their underground lair, which smelled of rotting fish, mould and snakeskin.

The atmosphere made it hard to sing about summertime and cotton and easy living, but Piper kept it up. If she stopped for longer than a minute or two, Kekrops and his guards started hissing and looking angry.

‘I don’t like this place,’ Annabeth murmured. ‘Reminds me of when I was underneath Rome.’

Kekrops hissed with laughter. ‘Our domain is much older. Much, much older.’

Annabeth slipped her hand into Percy’s, which made Piper feel downhearted. She wished Jason were with her. Heck, she’d even settle for Leo … though maybe she wouldn’t have held his hand. Leo’s hands tended to burst into flames when he was nervous.

Piper’s voice echoed through the tunnels. As they travelled further into the lair, more snake people gathered to hear her. Soon they had a procession following behind them – dozens of gemini all swaying and slithering.

Piper had lived up to her granddad’s prediction. She had learned the song of the snakes – which turned out to be a George Gershwin number from 1935. So far she had even kept the snake king from biting, just like in the old Cherokee story. The only problem with that legend: the warrior who learned the snake song had to sacrifice his wife for the power. Piper didn’t want to sacrifice anyone.

The vial of physician’s cure was still wrapped in its chamois cloth, tucked in her belt pouch. She hadn’t had time to consult with Jason and Leo before she left. She just had to hope they would all be reunited on the hilltop before anyone needed the cure. If one of them died and she couldn’t reach them …

Just keep singing, she told herself.

They passed through crude stone chambers littered with bones. They climbed slopes so steep and slippery it was nearly impossible to keep their footing. At one point, they passed a warm cave the size of a gymnasium filled with snake eggs, their tops covered with a layer of silver filaments like slimy Christmas tinsel.

More and more snake people joined their procession. Slithering behind her, they sounded like an army of football players shuffling with sandpaper on their cleats.

Piper wondered how many gemini lived down here. Hundreds, maybe thousands.

She thought she heard her own heartbeat echoing through the corridors, getting louder and louder the deeper they went. Then she realized the persistent boom ba-boom was all around them, resonating through the stone and the air.

I wake. A woman’s voice, as clear as Piper’s singing.

Annabeth froze. ‘Oh, that’s not good.’

‘It’s like Tartarus,’ Percy said, his voice edgy. ‘You remember … his heartbeat. When he appeared –’

‘Don’t,’ Annabeth said. ‘Just don’t.’

‘Sorry.’ In the light of his sword, Percy’s face was like a large firefly – a hovering, momentary smudge of brightness in the dark.

The voice of Gaia spoke again, louder: At last.

Piper’s singing wavered.

Fear washed over her, as it had in the Spartan temple. But the gods Phobos and Deimos were old friends to her now. She let the fear burn inside her like fuel, making her voice even stronger. She sang for the snake people, for her friends’ safety. Why not for Gaia, too?

Finally they reached the top of a steep slope, where the path ended in a curtain of green goo.

Kekrops faced the demigods. ‘Beyond this camouflage is the Acropolis. You must remain here. I will check that your way is clear.’

‘Wait.’ Piper turned to address the crowd of gemini. ‘There is only death above. You will be safer in the tunnels. Hurry back. Forget you saw us. Protect yourselves.’

The fear in her voice channelled perfectly with the charmspeak. The snake people, even the guards, turned and slithered into the darkness, leaving only the king.

‘Kekrops,’ Piper said, ‘you’re planning to betray us as soon as you step through that goo.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘I will alert the giants. They will destroy you.’ Then he hissed. ‘Why did I tell you that?’

‘Listen to the heartbeat of Gaia,’ Piper urged. ‘You can sense her rage, can’t you?’

Kekrops wavered. The end of his staff glowed dimly. ‘I can, yes. She is angry.’

‘She’ll destroy everything,’ Piper said. ‘She’ll reduce the Acropolis to a smoking crater. Athens – your city – will be utterly destroyed, your people along with it. You believe me, don’t you?’

‘I – I do.’

‘Whatever hatred you have for humans, for demigods, for Athena, we are the only chance to stop Gaia. So you will not betray us. For your own sake, and your people, you will scout the territory and make sure the way is clear. You will say nothing to the giants. Then you will return.’

‘That is … what I’ll do.’ Kekrops disappeared through the membrane of goo.

Annabeth shook her head in amazement. ‘Piper, that was incredible.’

‘We’ll see if it works.’ Piper sat down on the cool stone floor. She figured she might as well rest while she could.

The others squatted next to her. Percy handed her a canteen of water.

Until she took a drink, Piper hadn’t realized how dry her throat was. ‘Thanks.’

Percy nodded. ‘You think the charm will last?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘If Kekrops comes back in two minutes with an army of giants, then no.’

The heartbeat of Gaia echoed through the floor. Strangely, it made Piper think of the sea – how the waves boomed along the cliffs of Santa Monica back home.

She wondered what her father was doing right now. It would be the middle of the night in California. Maybe he was asleep, or doing a late-night TV interview. Piper hoped he was in his favourite spot: the porch off the living room, watching the moon over the Pacific, enjoying some quiet time. Piper wanted to think he was happy and content right now … in case they failed.

She thought about her friends in the Aphrodite cabin at Camp Half-Blood. She thought about her cousins in Oklahoma, which was odd, since she’d never spent much time with them. She didn’t even know them very well. Now she was sorry about that.

She wished she’d taken more advantage of her life, appreciated things more. She would always be grateful for her family aboard the Argo II – but she had so many other friends and relatives she wished she could see one last time.

‘Do you guys ever think about your families?’ she asked.

It was a silly question, especially on the cusp of a battle. Piper should have been focused on their quest, not distracting her friends.

But they didn’t chide her.

Percy’s gaze became unfocused. His lower lip quivered. ‘My mom … I – I haven’t even seen her since Hera made me disappear. I called her from Alaska. I gave Coach Hedge some letters to deliver to her. I …’ His voice broke. ‘She’s all I’ve got. Her and my stepdad, Paul.’

‘And Tyson,’ Annabeth reminded him. ‘And Grover. And –’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Percy said. ‘Thanks. I feel much better.’

Piper probably shouldn’t have laughed, but she was too full of nervousness and melancholy to hold it in. ‘What about you, Annabeth?’

‘My dad … my stepmom and stepbrothers.’ She turned the drakon-bone blade in her lap. ‘After all I’ve been through in the past year, it seems stupid that I resented them for so long. And my dad’s relatives … I haven’t thought about them in years. I have an uncle and cousin in Boston.’

Percy looked shocked. ‘You, with the Yankees cap? You’ve got family in Red Sox country?’

Annabeth smiled weakly. ‘I never see them. My dad and my uncle don’t get along. Some old rivalry. I don’t know. It’s stupid what keeps people apart.’

Piper nodded. She wished she had the healing powers of Asclepius. She wished she could look at people and see what was hurting them, then whip out her prescription pad and make everything better. But she guessed there was a reason Zeus kept Asclepius locked away in his underground temple.

Some pain shouldn’t be wished away so easily. It had to be dealt with, even embraced. Without the agony of the last few months, Piper never would have found her best friends, Hazel and Annabeth. She never would’ve discovered her own courage. She certainly wouldn’t have had the guts to sing show tunes to the snake people under Athens.

At the top of the tunnel, the green membrane rippled.

Piper grabbed her sword and rose, prepared for a flood of monsters.

But Kekrops emerged alone.

‘The way is clear,’ he said. ‘But hurry. The ceremony is almost complete.’

Pushing through a curtain of mucus was almost as fun as Piper imagined.

She emerged feeling like she’d just rolled through a giant’s nostril. Fortunately, none of the gunk stuck to her, but still her skin tingled with revulsion.

Percy, Annabeth and she found themselves in a cool, damp pit that seemed to be the basement level of a temple. All around them, uneven ground stretched into darkness under a low ceiling of stone. Directly above their heads, a rectangular gap was open to the sky. Piper could see the edges of walls and the tops of columns, but no monsters … yet.

The camouflage membrane had closed behind them and blended into the ground. Piper pressed her hand against it. The area seemed to be solid rock. They wouldn’t be leaving the way they’d come.

Annabeth ran her hand along some marks on the ground – a jagged crow’s-foot shape as long as a human body. The area was lumpy and white, like stone scar tissue. ‘This is the place,’ she said. ‘Percy, these are the trident marks of Poseidon.’

Hesitantly, Percy touched the scars. ‘He must’ve been using his extra-extra-large trident.’

‘This is where he struck the earth,’ Annabeth said, ‘where he made a saltwater spring appear when he had the contest with my mom to sponsor Athens.’

‘So this is where the rivalry started,’ Percy said.

‘Yeah.’

Percy pulled Annabeth close and kissed her … long enough for it to get really awkward for Piper, though she said nothing. She thought about the old rule of Aphrodite’s cabin: that to be recognized as a daughter of the love goddess, you had to break someone’s heart. Piper had long ago decided to change that rule. Percy and Annabeth were a perfect example of why. You should have to make someone’s heart whole; that was a much better test.

When Percy pulled away, Annabeth looked like a fish gasping for air.

‘The rivalry ends here,’ Percy said. ‘I love you, Wise Girl.’

Annabeth made a little sigh, like something in her ribcage had melted.

Percy glanced at Piper. ‘Sorry, I had to do that.’

Piper grinned. ‘How could a daughter of Aphrodite not approve? You’re a great boyfriend.’

Annabeth made another grunt-whimper. ‘Uh … anyway. We’re beneath the Erechtheion. It’s a temple to both Athena and Poseidon. The Parthenon should be diagonally to the southeast of here. We’ll need to sneak around the perimeter and disable as many siege weapons as we can, make an approach path for the Argo II.’

‘It’s broad daylight,’ Piper said. ‘How will we go unnoticed?’

Annabeth scanned the sky. ‘That’s why I made a plan with Frank and Hazel. Hopefully … ah. Look.’

A bee zipped overhead. Dozens more followed. They swarmed around a column, then hovered over the opening of the pit.

‘Say hi to Frank, everybody,’ Annabeth said.

Piper waved. The cloud of bees zipped away.

‘How does that even work?’ Percy said. ‘Like … one bee is a finger? Two bees are his eyes?’

‘I don’t know,’ Annabeth admitted. ‘But he’s our go-between. As soon as he gives Hazel the word, she will –’

‘Gah!’ Percy yelped.

Annabeth clamped her hand over his mouth.

Which looked strange, because suddenly each of them had turned into a hulking, six-armed Earthborn.

‘Hazel’s Mist.’ Piper’s voice sounded deep and gravelly. She looked down and realized that she, too, now had a lovely Neanderthal body – belly hair, loincloth, stubby legs and oversized feet. If she concentrated, she could see her normal arms, but when she moved them they rippled like mirages, separating into three different sets of muscular Earthborn arms.

Percy grimaced, which looked even worse on his newly uglified face. ‘Wow, Annabeth … I’m really glad I kissed you before you changed.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ she said. ‘We should get going. I’ll move clockwise around the perimeter. Piper, you move counterclockwise. Percy, you scout the middle –’

‘Wait,’ Percy said. ‘We’re walking right into the whole blood-spilling sacrifice trap we’ve been warned about, and you want to split up even more?’

‘We’ll cover more ground that way,’ Annabeth said. ‘We have to hurry. That chanting …’

Piper hadn’t noticed it until then, but now she heard it: an ominous drone in the distance, like a hundred forklifts idling. She looked at the ground and noticed bits of gravel trembling, skittering southeast, as if pulled towards the Parthenon.

‘Right,’ Piper said. ‘We’ll meet up at the giant’s throne.’

At first it was easy.

Monsters were everywhere – hundreds of ogres, Earthborn and Cyclopes milling through the ruins – but most of them were gathered at the Parthenon, watching the ceremony in progress. Piper strolled along the cliffs of the Acropolis unchallenged.

Near the first onager, three Earthborn were sunning themselves on the rocks. Piper walked right up to them and smiled. ‘Hello.’

Before they could make a sound, she cut them down with her sword. All three melted into slag heaps. She slashed the onager’s spring cord to disable the weapon, then kept moving.

She was committed now. She had to do as much damage as possible before the sabotage was discovered.

She skirted a patrol of Cyclopes. The second onager was surrounded by an encampment of tattooed Laistrygonian ogres, but Piper managed to get to the machine without raising suspicion. She dropped a vial of Greek fire in the sling. With luck, as soon as they tried to load the catapult, it would explode in their faces.

She kept moving. Gryphons roosted on the colonnade of an old temple. A group of empousai had retreated into a shadowy archway and appeared to be slumbering, their fiery hair flickering dimly, their brass legs glinting. Hopefully the sunlight would make them sluggish if they had to fight.

Whenever she could, Piper slew isolated monsters. She walked past larger groups. Meanwhile the crowd at the Parthenon grew larger. The chanting got louder. Piper couldn’t see what was happening inside the ruins – just the heads of twenty or thirty giants standing in a circle, mumbling and swaying, maybe doing the evil monster version of ‘Kumbayah’.

She disabled a third siege weapon by sawing through the torsion ropes, which should give the Argo II a clear approach from the north.

She hoped Frank was watching her progress. She wondered how long it would take for the ship to arrive.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. A BOOM echoed across the hillside. In the Parthenon, the giants roared in triumph. All around Piper, monsters surged towards the sound of celebration.

That couldn’t be good. Piper blended into a crowd of sour-smelling Earthborn. She bounded up the main steps of the temple, then climbed a section of metal scaffolding so she could see above the heads of the ogres and Cyclopes.

The scene in the ruins almost made her cry aloud.

Before Porphyrion’s throne, dozens of giants stood in a loose ring, hollering and shaking their weapons as two of their number paraded around the circle, showing off their prizes. The princess Periboia held Annabeth by the neck like a feral cat. The giant Enceladus had Percy wrapped in his massive fist.

Annabeth and Percy both struggled helplessly. Their captors displayed them to the cheering horde of monsters, then turned to face King Porphyrion, who sat in his makeshift throne, his white eyes gleaming with malice.

‘Right on time!’ the giant king bellowed. ‘The blood of Olympus to raise the Earth Mother!’