THE ROMANS CERTIANLY took dining to a very intense level— one that blew Blaire's (who was used to the mundane Camp Half-blood meals) mind. Scattered about the dining pavilion, Romans lounged on couches and plush armchairs, enjoying their meals at low-set tables. Wind spirits drifted throughout the area, weaving through densely packed crowds wielding trays teeming with several assortments of food and beverage.

Drifting through the crowd were purple ghosts— Lares—in togas and legionnaire armor. Around the edges of the feast, satyrs (no, fauns, Annabeth thought) trotted from table to table, panhandling for food and spare change. In the nearby fields, the war elephant frolicked with Mrs. O'Leary, and children played tag around the statues of Terminus that lined the city limits.

Blaire sat sandwiched between Leo and Piper, across from a newly reunited Annabeth and Percy. A few of the Romans (Reyna and Octavian) joined the Argo crew at the table they occupied. So did Percy and his new friends (Frank and Hazel). The table was so crowded, that Blaire and Leo accidentally knocked knees under the surface several times. And every time they did, Leo would grow flustered and start apologizing profusely, refusing to meet her eyes for the following minutes.

"This place is way nicer than Camp Half-Blood," Leo decided, speaking through a mouthful of his meal of choice. "And the food is, like, a dozen times better too."

Blaire furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head in disgust. "Can't you wait until you swallow your food to talk, Valdez?"

Leo shrugged. "Sorry."

Reyna called a toast to friendship and a round of introductions were passed around the table. Percy's friend Hazel was still staring in Blaire and Leo's direction like she'd spotted something remarkably terrible.

Meanwhile, Jason explained how he'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood without his memory, and how he'd gone on a quest with Piper, Blaire, and Leo to rescue the goddess Hera (or Juno, take your pick—she was equally annoying in Greek or Roman) from imprisonment at the Wolf House in northern California.

"Impossible!" Octavian broke in. Blaire already hated this guy more than she did most people. "That's our most sacred place. If the giants had imprisoned a goddess there—"

"They would've destroyed her," Piper finished for him. "And blamed it on the Greeks, and started a war between the camps. Now, be quiet and let Jason finish."

Blaire was grateful for Piper's charmspeak in moments like the former. Octavian opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out.

Blaire noticed Reyna looking back and forth between Jason and Piper, her brow creased as if just beginning to realize the two of them were a couple. It was safe to assume Jason and Reyna had some sort of romantic history.

"So," Jason continued, "that's how we found out about the earth goddess Gaea. She's still half asleep, but she's the one freeing the monsters from Tartarus and raising the giants. Porphyrion, the big leader dude we fought at the Wolf House: said he was retreating to the ancient lands—Greece itself. He plans on awakening Gaea and destroying the gods by...what did he call it? Pulling up their roots."

Percy nodded thoughtfully. "Gaea's been busy over here, too. We had our own encounter with Queen Dirt Face."

  Percy recounted his side of the story. He talked about waking up at the Wolf House with no memories except for one name— Annabeth. The mentioned girl seemed ready to cry at this confession, blinking tears away rapidly.

  Percy told them how he'd traveled to Alaska with Frank and Hazel—how they'd defeated the giant Alcyoneus, freed the death god Thanatos, and returned with the lost golden eagle standard of the Roman camp to repel an attack by the giants' army.

  When Percy had finished, Jason whistled appreciatively. "No wonder they made you praetor."

Octavian snorted. "Which means we now
have three praetors! The rules clearly state we
can only have two!"

"On the bright side," Percy said, "both Jason and I outrank you, Octavian. So we can both tell you to shut up."

Octavian turned as purple as a Roman T-shirt. Jason gave Percy a fist bump. Blaire and Leo turned to each other, wearing identical grins, mutually elated by seeing this dorky blond humbled.

Even Reyna managed a smile, though her eyes were stormy. "We'll have to figure out the extra praetor problem later," she said. "Right now we have more serious issues to deal with.

"I'll step aside for Jason," Percy said easily. "It's no biggie."

Octavian didn't seem to agree with this. He choked on air, staring at the boy in disbelief. "No biggie? The praetorship of Rome is no biggie?"

Ignoring Octavian, Percy turned back to Jason. "You're Thalia Grace's brother, huh? Wow. You guys
look nothing alike."

"Yeah, I noticed," Jason retorted simply. "Anyway, thanks for helping my camp while I was gone. You did an awesome job."

"Back at you," Percy said.

Annabeth huffed, interrupting the moment of budding bromance. "We should talk about the Great Prophecy. It sounds like the Romans are aware of it too?"

Reyna nodded. "We call it the Prophecy of Eight. Octavian, you have it committed to memory?"

"Of course," he confirmed. "But, Reyna—"

"Recite it, please. In English, not Latin."

Octavian sighed. "Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire the world must fall—"

"An oath to keep with a final breath," Annabeth continued. "And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."

Everyone stared at her—except for Leo, who had constructed a pinwheel out of aluminum foil taco wrappers and was sticking it into passing wind spirits.

  The big kid, Frank, sat forward, staring at Annabeth in fascination as if she'd grown a third eye. "Is it true you're a child of Min—I mean, Athena?"

"Yes," Annabeth snarked, suddenly sounding very defensive. "Why is that such a surprise?"

Octavian scoffed. "If you're truly a child of the wisdom goddess—"

  "Enough," Reyna snapped, stopping Octavian before he could say anything truly nasty. "Annabeth is what she says. She's here in peace. Besides..." She gave Annabeth a look of grudging respect. "Percy has spoken highly of you."

  "Uh, thanks," she told Reyna awkwardly. "At any rate, some of the prophecy is becoming clear. Foes bearing arms to the Doors of Death...that means Romans and Greeks. We have to combine forces to find those doors."

  Hazel, the girl with the cavalry helmet and the long curly hair who seemed to be intrigued by Leo's existence, picked up something next to her plate. It looked like a large ruby; but before Blaire could be sure, Hazel slipped it into the pocket of her denim shirt.

  "My brother, Nico, went looking for the doors," she informed them.

  Blaire froze, turning toward her with raised eyebrows. "Di Angelo is your brother?"

  Hazel nodded as if this were obvious. A dozen more questions crowded into Blaire's head, but it was already spinning like Leo's pinwheel. Poor Hazel.

  She decided to let the matter go. "Okay. You were saying?"

  "He disappeared." Hazel moistened her lips. "I'm afraid...I'm not sure, but I think something's happened to him."

  "We'll look for him," Percy promised. "We have to find the Doors of Death anyway. Thanatos told us we'd find both answers in Rome—like, the original Rome. That's on the way to Greece, right?"

  "Thanatos told you this?" Annabeth narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend in disbelief. "The death god?"

  Percy casually took a bite of his burger like he didn't just confess to meeting death himself. "Now that Death is free, monsters will disintegrate and return to Tartarus again like they used to. But as long as the Doors of Death are open, they'll just keep coming back."

Piper nodded in understanding. "Like water leaking through a dam."

Percy grinned to himself. "Yeah. We've got a dam hole."

"What?" Everyone stared at him in confusion, with tilted heads and cocked eyebrows.

"Nothing," he quickly dismissed them. "Inside joke. The point is we'll have to find the doors and close them before we can head to Greece. It's the only way we'll stand a chance of defeating the giants and making sure they stay defeated."

Reyna plucked an apple from a passing fruit tray. She turned it in her fingers, studying the dark red surface. "You propose an expedition to Greece in your warship. You do realize that the ancient lands—and the Mare Nostrum—are dangerous?"

"Mary who?" Leo asked dumbly. And Blaire pinched the bridge of her nose, blinking away the signs of an incoming migraine. For a genius-mechanic / child prodigy, Leo really could be dense sometimes.

"Mare Nostrum," Jason explained, punctuating his every word like Leo was a toddler. "Our Sea. It's what the Ancient Romans called the Mediterranean."

Reyna nodded. "The territory that was once the Roman Empire is not only the birthplace of the gods. It's also the ancestral home of the monsters, Titans, and giants...and worse things. As dangerous as travel is for demigods here in America, there it would be ten times worse."

It was like Reyna wasn't aware of the constant torture that was a Demigod's life. She was sure she'd endured much worse than a sea brimming with giants and titans. Blaire wanted to mention the fact she'd literally died less than a year ago but decided to hold her tongue.

"You said Alaska would be bad," Percy reminded her. "We survived that."

Reyna shook her head. Her fingernails cut little crescents into the apple as she turned it. "Percy, traveling in the Mediterranean is a different level of danger altogether. It's been off-limits to Roman demigods for centuries. No hero in his right mind would go there."

"Then we're good!" Leo grinned over the top of his pinwheel. "Because we're all crazy, right? Besides, the Argo II is a top-of-the-line warship. She'll get us through."

Leo talked about the warship like it was his romantic lover or something.

"We'll have to hurry," Jason added. "I don't know exactly what the giants are planning, but Gaea is growing more conscious all the time. She's invading dreams, appearing in weird places, summoning more and more powerful monsters. We have to stop the giants before they can wake her up fully."

Blaire paled, averting her gaze to the plate in front of her which suddenly seemed very unappetizing. She'd been having an abundance of nightmares recently— bone-chilling nightmares that frightened her awake. Even recalling them made her stomach churn and her head whirl.

Leo seemed to take note of her sudden discomfort because he nudged her gently with his elbow, demanding her attention. "You good, B?"

Blaire rolled her eyes, managing a scowl as if Leo's usage of the nickname was what annoyed her most. "Don't call me B."

"Seven half-bloods must answer the call," Annabeth spoke up. "It needs to be a mix from both our camps. Jason, Piper, Leo, Blaire, and me. That's five."

"And me," Percy said. "Along with Hazel and Frank. That's eight."

"What?" Octavian shot to his feet. "We're just supposed to accept that? Without a vote in the Senate? Without a proper debate? Without—"

Blaire groaned, smacking a hand onto the table and silencing everyone. "Jesus, do you ever stop complaining about anything?

"Percy!" Tyson the Cyclops broke the silence, bounding toward them with Mrs. O'Leary at his heels. On the hellhound's back sat the skinniest harpy Blaire had ever seen—a sickly-looking girl with stringy red hair, a sackcloth dress, and red-feathered wings.

Tyson stopped by their couch and wrung his meaty hands. His big brown eye was full of concern. "Ella is scared," he said.

"N-n-no more boats," the harpy muttered to herself, picking furiously at her feathers. "Titanic, Lusitania, Pax...boats are not for harpies."

Leo squinted, looking to Blaire who seemed amused by the comparison. "Did that chicken girl just compare my ship to the Titanic?"

Before Blaire could respond, Hazel did. "She's not a chicken." For some reason, she seemed hostile, like the question had personally offended her. "Ella's a harpy. She's just a little...high-strung."

Blaire was sure Leo must have been lying about not knowing Hazel before.

"Ella is pretty," Tyson said. "And scared. We need to take her away, but she will not go on the ship."

"No ships," Ella repeated. She looked straight at Annabeth. "Bad luck. There she is. Wisdom's daughter walks alone—"

"Ella!" Frank stood suddenly. "Maybe it's not the best time—"

  "The Mark of Athena burns through Rome," Ella continued, cupping her hands over her ears and raising her voice. "Twins snuff out the angel's breath, Who holds the key to endless death. Giants' bane stands gold and pale, Won through pain from a woven jail."

  The effect was like someone dropping a flash grenade on the table. Everyone stared at the harpy. No one spoke. Around them, the sounds of the feast continued, but muted and distant, as if their little cluster of couches had slipped into a quieter dimension.

  Percy was the first to recover. He stood and took Tyson's arm. "I know!" he said with feigned enthusiasm. "How about you take Ella to get some fresh air? You and Mrs. O'Leary—"

  "Hold on." Octavian gripped one of his teddy bears, strangling it with shaking hands. His eyes fixed on Ella. "What was that she said? It sounded like—"

  "Ella reads a lot," Frank blurted out. "We found her at a library."

  "Yes!" Hazel agreed. "Probably just something she read in a book."

  "Books," Ella muttered helpfully. "Ella likes books."

  Now that she'd said her piece, the harpy seemed more relaxed. She sat cross-legged on Mrs. O'Leary's back, preening her wings.

  "That was a prophecy," Octavian insisted. "It sounded like a prophecy."

  No one answered. Percy and his new Roman BFFS exchanged weary glances and Blaire assumed they had somehow found themselves in a sticky situation.

  Annabeth laughed but it was very clearly forced. "Really, Octavian? Maybe harpies are different here, on the Roman side. Ours have just enough intelligence to clean cabins and cook lunches. Do yours usually foretell the future? Do you consult them for your auguries?"

  Her words had the intended effect. The Roman officers laughed nervously. Some sized up Ella, then looked at Octavian and snorted. The idea of a chicken lady issuing prophecies was apparently just as ridiculous to Romans as it was to Greeks.

  "I, uh..." Octavian dropped his teddy bear. "No, but—"

  Sick of Octavian and hearing him complain, Blaire cut in, "Just let it go. Maybe focus on killing your teddy bears instead of something that has nothing to do with you."

  Annabeth joined in on the gaslighting. "Besides, we already have a real prophecy to worry about." She turned to Tyson. "Percy's right. Why don't you take Ella and Mrs. O'Leary and shadow-travel somewhere for a while? Is Ella okay with that?"

   "Large dogs are good," Ella said. "Old Yeller, 1957, screenplay by Fred Gipson and William Tunberg."

  Blaire wasn't necessarily sure what that meant, but the answer seemed to satisfy Percy.

"Great!" Percy beamed. "We'll Iris-message you guys when we're done and catch up with you later."

  The Romans looked at Reyna, waiting for her ruling. Blaire held her breath. Reyna had an excellent poker face. She studied Ella, but Blaire couldn't guess what she was thinking.

  "Fine," the praetor said at last. "Go."

  "Yay!" Tyson went around the couches and gave everyone a big hug—even Octavian, who didn't look happy about it. Then he climbed on Mrs. O'Leary's back with Ella, and the hellhound bounded out of the forum. They dove straight into a shadow on the Senate House wall and disappeared.

  "Well." Reyna set down her uneaten apple. "Octavian is right about one thing. We must gain the senate's approval before we let any of our legionnaires go on a quest—especially one as dangerous as you're suggesting."

  "This whole thing smells of treachery," Octavian grumbled. Blaire wondered if he was ever happy about anything. "That trireme is not a ship of peace!"

  "Come aboard, man," Leo offered. "I'll give you a tour. You can steer the boat, and if you're really good I'll give you a little paper captain's hat to wear."

  Octavian's nostrils flared. "How dare you—"

  "It's a good idea," Reyna said. "Octavian, go with him. See the ship. We'll convene a senate meeting in one hour."

"But..." Octavian stopped. Apparently, he could tell from Reyna's expression that further arguing would not be good for his health. "Fine."

The chill was back. The terrible chill she'd felt before getting off the Argo returned and it was a dozen times more prominent. Something wasn't right.

Leo turned to smile at Annabeth and the daughter of Athena frowned. Then she turned to look at Blaire. "You should go with him."

"Why me?" She protested.

"Because," Annabeth said simply, "Someone's gotta look after Leo, right?"

She wanted to protest but she had a feeling going with Leo would be the right choice. The cold feeling only returned when Reyna suggested Leo and Octavian board the ship. She had to go.

"Fine," Blaire sighed, pushing her chair backward and away from the table.

"C'mon, B," Leo urged, grinning like a maniac. "This will be epic. Be back soon."

They would not be back soon.

  Lyn / Bleo Nation Kill me and shoot me Dead this is the most boring chapter I've written. Next chapter will be spunky As hell to make up for it!!