The House of Hades (The Heroes of Olympus 4)

Frank wished he could do more to lift Hedge’s spirits, but this talk was making him worry about everyone he’d left behind. He wondered who was defending Camp Jupiter now that the legion had marched east, especially with all the monsters Gaea was unleashing from the Doors of Death. He worried about his friends in the Fifth Cohort, and how they must be feeling as Octavian ordered them to march on Camp Half-Blood. Frank wanted to be back there, if only to stuff a teddy bear down the throat of that slimeball augur.

The ship listed forward. The herd of sports equipment rolled under the coach’s berth.

“We’re descending,” said Hedge. “We’d better get above. ”

“Yeah,” Frank said, his voice hoarse.

“You’re a nosy Roman, Zhang. ”

“But—”

“Come on,” Hedge said. “And not a word about this to the others, you blabbermouth. ”

As the others made fast the aerial moorings, Leo grabbed Frank and Hazel by the arms. He dragged them to the aft ballista. “Okay, here’s the plan. ”

Hazel narrowed her eyes. “I hate your plans. ”

“I need that piece of magic firewood,” Leo said. “Snappy!”

Frank nearly choked on his own tongue. Hazel backed away, instinctively covering her coat pocket. “Leo, you can’t—”

“I found a solution. ” Leo turned to Frank. “It’s your call, big guy, but I can protect you. ”

Frank thought about how many times he’d seen Leo’s fingers burst into flame. One false move, and Leo could incinerate the piece of tinder that controlled Frank’s life.

But for some reason, Frank wasn’t terrified. Since facing down the cow monsters in Venice, Frank had barely thought about his fragile lifeline. Yes, the smallest bit of fire might kill him. But he’d also survived some impossible things and made his dad proud. Frank had decided that whatever his fate was, he wouldn’t worry about it. He would just do the best he could to help his friends.

Besides, Leo sounded serious. His eyes were still full of that weird melancholy, like he was in two places at once; but nothing about his expression indicated any kind of joke.

“Go ahead, Hazel,” Frank said.

“But…” Hazel took a deep breath. “Okay. ” She took out the piece of firewood and handed it to Leo.

In Leo’s hands, it wasn’t much bigger than a screwdriver. The tinder was still charred on one side from where Frank had used it to burn through the icy chains that

had imprisoned the god Thanatos in Alaska.

From a pocket of his tool belt, Leo produced a piece of white cloth. “Behold!”

Frank scowled. “A handkerchief?”

“A surrender flag?” Hazel guessed.

“No, unbelievers!” Leo said. “This is a pouch woven from seriously cool fabric—a gift from a friend of mine. ”

Leo slipped the firewood into the pouch and pulled it closed with a tie of bronze thread.

“The drawstring was my idea,” Leo said proudly. “It took some work, lacing that into the fabric, but the pouch won’t open unless you want it to. The fabric breathes just like regular cloth, so the firewood isn’t any more sealed up than it would be in Hazel’s coat pocket. ”

“Uh…” Hazel said. “How is that an improvement, then?”

“Hold this so I don’t give you a heart attack. ” Leo tossed the pouch to Frank, who almost fumbled it.

Leo summoned a white-hot ball of fire into his right hand. He held his left forearm over the flames, grinning as they licked the sleeve of his jacket.

“See?” he said. “It doesn’t burn!”

Frank didn’t like to argue with a guy who was holding a ball of fire, but he said, “Uh…you’re immune to flames. ”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I have to concentrate if I don’t want my clothes to burn. And I’m not concentrating, see? This is totally fireproof cloth. Which means your firewood won’t burn in that pouch. ”

Hazel looked unconvinced. “How can you be sure?”

“Sheesh, tough audience. ” Leo shut off the fire. “Guess there’s only one way to persuade you. ” He held out his hand to Frank.

“Uh, no, no. ” Frank backed off. Suddenly all those brave thoughts about accepting his fate seemed far away. “That’s okay, Leo. Thanks, but I—I can’t—”

“Man, you gotta trust me. ”

Frank’s heart raced. Did he trust Leo? Well, sure…with an engine. With a practical joke. But with his life?

He remembered the day they had gotten stuck in the underground workshop in Rome. Gaea had promised they would die in that room. Leo had promised he would get Hazel and Frank out of the trap. And he’d done it.

Now Leo spoke with the same kind of confidence.

“Okay. ” Frank handed Leo the pouch. “Try not to kill me. ”

Leo’s hand blazed. The pouch didn’t blacken or burn.

Frank waited for something to go horribly wrong. He counted to twenty, but he was still alive. He felt as if a block of ice were melting just behind his sternum—a frozen chunk of fear he’d gotten so used to he didn’t even think about it until it was gone.

Leo extinguished his fire. He wriggled his eyebrows at Frank. “Who’s your best buddy?”

“Don’t answer that,” Hazel said. “But, Leo, that was amazing. ”