‘Please, please,’ she murmured to herself.
In truth, she had no idea what she was doing, but she cleaned the wound as best she could and gripped the shaft of the arrow. If it had a barbed tip, pulling it out might cause more damage. But, if it was poisoned, she couldn’t leave it in. Nor could she push it through, since it was embedded in the middle of his body. She would have to choose the lesser evil.
‘This will hurt, my friend,’ she told Blackjack.
He huffed, as if to say, Tell me something I don’t know.
With her knife, she cut a slit on either side of the wound. She pulled out the arrow. Blackjack shrieked, but the arrow came out cleanly. The point wasn’t barbed. It could have been poisoned, but there was no way to be sure. One problem at a time.
Reyna poured more healing potion over the wound and bandaged it. She applied pressure, counting under her breath. The oozing seemed to lessen.
She trickled unicorn draught into Blackjack’s mouth.
She lost track of time. The horse’s pulse became stronger and steadier. His eyes cleared of pain. His breathing eased.
By the time Reyna stood up, she was shaking with fear and exhaustion, but Blackjack was still alive.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ she promised. ‘I’ll get you help from Camp Half-Blood.’
Blackjack made a grumbling sound. Reyna could’ve sworn he tried to say doughnuts. She must have been going delirious.
Belatedly, she realized how much the sky had lightened. The Athena Parthenos gleamed in the sun. Guido and the other winged horses pawed the deck impatiently.
‘The battle …’ Reyna turned towards the shore but saw no signs of combat. A Greek trireme bobbed lazily in the morning tide. The hills looked green and peaceful.
For a moment, she wondered if the Romans had decided not to attack.
Perhaps Octavian had come to his senses. Perhaps Nico and the others had managed to win over the legion.
Then an orange glow illuminated the hilltops. Multiple streaks of fire climbed skyward like burning fingers.
The onagers had shot their first volley.
XLI
Piper
PIPER WASN’T SURPRISED when the snake people arrived.
All week, she’d been thinking about her encounter with Sciron the bandit, when she’d stood on the deck of the Argo II after escaping a gigantic Destructo-Turtle and made the mistake of saying, ‘We’re safe.’
Instantly an arrow had hit the mainmast, an inch in front of her nose.
Piper learned a valuable lesson from that: never assume you’re safe, and never, ever tempt the Fates by announcing that you think you’re safe.
So when the ship docked at the harbour in Piraeus, on the outskirts of Athens, Piper resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, they had finally reached their destination. Somewhere nearby – past those rows of cruise ships, past those hills crowded with buildings – they would find the Acropolis. Today, one way or another, their journey would end.
But that didn’t mean she could relax. Any moment, a nasty surprise might come flying out of nowhere.
As it turned out, the surprise was three dudes with snake tails instead of legs.
Piper was on watch while her friends geared up for combat – checking their weapons and armour, loading the ballistae and catapults. She spotted the snake guys slithering along the docks, winding through crowds of mortal tourists who paid them no attention.
‘Um … Annabeth?’ Piper called.
Annabeth and Percy came to her side.
‘Oh, great,’ Percy said. ‘Dracaenae.’
Annabeth narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t think so. At least not like any I’ve seen. Dracaenae have two serpent trunks for legs. These guys just have one.’
‘You’re right,’ Percy said. ‘These look more human on top, too. Not all scaly and green and stuff. So do we talk or fight?’
Piper was tempted to say fight. She couldn’t help thinking of the story she’d told Jason – about the Cherokee hunter who had broken his taboo and turned into a snake. These three looked like they’d been eating a lot of squirrel meat.
Weirdly, the one in the lead reminded Piper of her dad when he’d grown a beard for his role in King of Sparta. The snake man held his head high. His face was chiselled and bronze, his eyes black as basalt, his curly dark hair glistening with oil. His upper body rippled with muscles, covered only by a Greek chlamys – a white wool cloak loosely wrapped and pinned at the shoulder. From the waist down, his body was one giant serpent trunk – about eight feet of green tail undulating behind him as he moved.
In one hand he carried a staff topped with a glowing green jewel. In his other, he carried a platter covered with a silver dome, like a main course for a fancy dinner.
The two guys behind him appeared to be guards. They wore bronze breastplates and elaborate helmets topped with horsehair bristles. Their spears were tipped with green stone points. Their oval shields were emblazoned with a large Greek letter K – kappa.
They stopped a few yards from the Argo II. The leader looked up and studied the demigods. His expression was intense but inscrutable. He might have been angry or worried or terribly in need of a restroom.
‘Permission to come aboard.’ His rasping voice made Piper think of a straight razor being wiped across a strop – like in her grandfather’s barbershop back in Oklahoma.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
He fixed his dark eyes on her. ‘I am Kekrops, the first and eternal king of Athens. I would welcome you to my city.’ He held up the covered platter. ‘Also, I brought a Bundt cake.’
Piper glanced at her friends. ‘A trick?’
‘Probably,’ Annabeth said.
‘At least he brought dessert.’ Percy smiled down at the snake guys. ‘Welcome aboard!’
Kekrops agreed to leave his guards above deck with Buford the table, who ordered them to drop and give him twenty push-ups. The guards seemed to take this as a challenge.
Meanwhile, the king of Athens was invited to the mess hall for a ‘get to know you’ meeting.
‘Please take a seat,’ Jason offered.
Kekrops wrinkled his nose. ‘Snake people do not sit.’
‘Please remain standing,’ Leo said. He cut the cake and stuffed a piece in his mouth before Piper could warn him it might be poisoned, or inedible for mortals, or just plain bad.
‘Dang!’ He grinned. ‘Snake people know how to make Bundt cake. Kind of orangey, with a hint of honey. Needs a glass of milk.’
‘Snake people do not drink milk,’ Kekrops said. ‘We are lactose-intolerant reptiles.’
‘Me, too!’ Frank said. ‘I mean … lactose intolerant. Not a reptile. Though I can be a reptile sometimes –’
‘Anyway,’ Hazel interrupted, ‘King Kekrops, what brings you here? How did you know we’d arrived?’
‘I know everything that happens in Athens,’ Kekrops said. ‘I was the city’s founder, its first king, born of the earth. I am the one who judged the dispute between Athena and Poseidon, and chose Athena to be the patron of the city.’
‘No hard feelings, though,’ Percy muttered.
Annabeth elbowed him. ‘I’ve heard of you, Kekrops. You were the first to offer sacrifices to Athena. You built her first shrine on the Acropolis.’
‘Correct.’ Kekrops sounded bitter, like he regretted his decision. ‘My people were the original Athenians – the gemini.’
‘Like your zodiac sign?’ Percy asked. ‘I’m a Leo.’
‘No, stupid,’ Leo said. ‘I’m a Leo. You’re a Percy.’
‘Will you two stop it?’ Hazel chided. ‘I think he means gemini like doubled – half man, half snake. That’s what his people are called. He’s a geminus, singular.’
‘Yes …’ Kekrops leaned away from Hazel as if she somehow offended him. ‘Millennia ago, we were driven underground by the two-legged humans, but I know the ways of the city better than any. I came to warn you. If you try to approach the Acropolis aboveground, you will be destroyed.’
Jason stopped nibbling his cake. ‘You mean … by you?’
‘By Porphyrion’s armies,’ said the snake king. ‘The Acropolis is ringed with great siege weapons – onagers.’
‘More onagers?’ Frank protested. ‘Did they have a sale on them or something?’
‘The Cyclopes,’ Hazel guessed. ‘They’re supplying both Octavian and the giants.’
Percy grunted. ‘Like we needed more proof that Octavian is on the wrong side.’
‘That is not the only threat,’ Kekrops warned. ‘The air is filled with storm spirits and gryphons. All roads to the Acropolis are patrolled by the Earthborn.’
Frank drummed his fingers on the Bundt cake cover. ‘So, what, we should just give up? We’ve come too far for that.’