The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus, Book Three) (25 page)

“Oh, man,” Leo said when he had finished the story. “I don’t feel so good. But I swear on the Styx, that’s what we saw.”

Frank had the same expression as the monster catfish head—wide glassy eyes and an open mouth. “Hazel…Hazel liked your
great
-
grandfather
? That’s why she likes you?”

“Frank, I know this is weird.
Believe
me. But I don’t like Hazel—not
that
way. I’m not moving in on your girl.”

Frank knit his eyebrows. “No?”

Leo hoped he wasn’t blushing. Truthfully, he had no idea how he felt about Hazel. She was awesome and cute, and Leo had a weakness for awesome cute girls. But the flashback had complicated his feelings
a lot.

Besides, his ship was in trouble.

I guess you care more about your ship than your friends,
Frank had said.

That wasn’t true, was it? Leo’s dad, Hephaestus, had admitted once that he wasn’t good with organic life forms. And, yes, Leo had always been more comfortable with machines than people. But he
did
care about his friends. Piper and Jason…he’d known them the longest, but the others were important to him too. Even Frank. They were like family.

The problem was, it had been so long since Leo had
had
a family, he couldn’t even remember how it felt. Sure, last winter he’d become senior counselor of Hephaestus cabin; but most of his time had been spent building the ship. He liked his cabin mates. He knew how to work with them—but did he really know them?

If Leo had a family, it was the demigods on the
Argo
II
—and maybe Coach Hedge, which Leo would never admit aloud.

You will always be the outsider,
warned Nemesis’s voice; but Leo tried to push that thought aside.

“Right, so…” He looked around him. “We need to make a plan. How are we breathing? If we’re under the ocean, shouldn’t we be crushed by the water pressure?”

Frank shrugged. “Fish-horse magic, I guess. I remember the green guy touching my head with the point of a dagger. Then I could breathe.”

Leo studied the abalone door. “Can you bust us out? Turn into a hammerhead shark or something?”

Frank shook his head glumly. “My shape-shifting doesn’t work. I don’t know why. Maybe they cursed me, or maybe I’m too messed up to focus.”

“Hazel could be in trouble,” Leo said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He swam to the door and ran his fingers along the abalone. He couldn’t feel any kind of latch or other mechanism. Either the door could only be opened by magic or sheer force was required—neither of which was Leo’s specialty.

“I’ve already tried,” Frank said. “Even if we get out, we have no weapons.”

“Hmm…” Leo held up his hand. “I wonder.”

He concentrated, and fire flickered over his fingers. For a split second, Leo was excited, because he hadn’t expected it to work underwater. Then his plan started working a little too well. Fire raced up his arm and over his body until he was completely shrouded in a thin veil of flame. He tried to breathe, but he was inhaling pure heat.

“Leo!” Frank flailed backward like he was falling off a bar stool. Instead of racing to Leo’s aid, he hugged the wall to get as far away as possible.

Leo forced himself to stay calm. He understood what was going on. The fire itself couldn’t hurt him. He willed the flames to die and counted to five. He took a shallow breath. He had oxygen again.

Frank stopped trying to merge with the cave wall. “You’re…you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Leo grumbled. “Thanks for the assist.”

“I—I’m sorry.” Frank looked so horrified and ashamed it was hard for Leo to stay mad at him. “I just…what happened?”

“Clever magic,” Leo said. “There’s a thin layer of oxygen around us, like an extra skin. Must be self-regenerating. That’s how we’re breathing and staying dry. The oxygen gave the fire fuel—except the fire also suffocated me.”

“I really don’t…” Frank gulped. “I don’t like that fire summoning you do.” He started getting cozy with the wall again.

Leo didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help laughing. “Man, I’m not going to attack you.”

“Fire,” Frank repeated, like that one word explained everything.

Leo remembered what Hazel had said—that his fire made Frank nervous. He’d seen the discomfort in Frank’s face before, but Leo hadn’t taken it seriously. Frank seemed
way
more powerful and scary than Leo was.

Now it occurred to him that Frank might have had a bad experience with fire. Leo’s own mom had died in a machine shop blaze. Leo had been blamed for it. He’d grown up being called a freak, an arsonist, because whenever he got angry, things burned.

“Sorry I laughed,” he said, and he meant it. “My mom died in a fire. I understand being afraid of it. Did, uh…did something like that happen with you?”

Frank seemed to be weighing how much to say. “My house…my grandmother’s place. It burned down. But it’s more than that…” He stared at the sea urchins on the floor. “Annabeth said I could trust the crew. Even you.”

“Even me, huh?” Leo wondered how
that
had come up in conversation. “Wow, high praise.”

“My weakness…” Frank started, like the words cut his mouth. “There’s this piece of firewood—”

The abalone door rolled open.

Leo turned and found himself face-to-face with Lima Bean Man, who wasn’t actually a man at all. Now that Leo could see him clearly, the guy was by far the weirdest creature he’d ever met, and that was saying a lot.

From the waist up, he was more or less human—a thin, bare-chested dude with a dagger in his belt and a band of seashells strapped across his chest like a bandolier. His skin was green, his beard scraggly brown, and his longish hair was tied back in a seaweed bandana. A pair of lobster claws stuck up from his head like horns, turning and snapping at random.

Leo decided he didn’t look so much like Chiron. He looked more like the poster Leo’s mom used to keep in her workspace—that old Mexican bandit Pancho Villa, except with seashells and lobster horns.

From the waist down, the guy was more complicated. He had the forelegs of a blue-green horse, sort of like a centaur, but toward the back, his horse body morphed into a long fishy tail about ten feet long, with a rainbow-colored, V-shaped tail fin.

Now Leo understood what Frank meant about fish-horse guys.

“I am Bythos,” said the green man. “I will interrogate Frank Zhang.”

His voice was calm and firm, leaving no room for debate.

“Why did you capture us?” Leo demanded. “Where’s Hazel?”

Bythos narrowed his eyes. His expression seemed to say:
Did this tiny creature just talk to me?
“You, Leo Valdez, will go with my brother.”

“Your brother?”

Leo realized that a much larger figure was looming behind Bythos, with a shadow so wide, it filled the entire cave entrance.

“Yes,” Bythos said with a dry smile. “Try not to make Aphros mad.”

Aphros looked like his brother,
except he was blue instead of green and much, much bigger. He had Arnold-as-Terminator abs and arms, and a square, brutish head. A huge Conan-approved sword was strapped across his back. Even his hair was bigger—a massive globe of blue-black frizz so thick that his lobster-claw horns appeared to be drowning as they tried to swim their way to the surface.

“Is that why they named you Aphros?” Leo asked as they glided down the path from the cave. “Because of the Afro?”

Aphros scowled. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Leo said quickly. At least he would never have trouble remembering which fish dude was which. “So what
are
you guys, exactly?”

“Ichthyocentaurs,” Aphros said, like it was a question he was tired of answering.

“Uh, icky what?”

“Fish centaurs. We are the half brothers of Chiron.”

“Oh, he’s a friend of mine!”

Aphros narrowed his eyes. “The one called Hazel told us this, but we will determine the truth. Come.”

Leo didn’t like the sound of
determine the truth
. It made him think of torture racks and red-hot pokers.

He followed the fish centaur through a massive forest of kelp. Leo could’ve darted to one side and gotten lost in the plants pretty easily, but he didn’t try. For one thing, he figured Aphros could travel much faster in the water, and the guy might be able to shut off the magic that let Leo move and breathe. Inside or outside the cave, Leo was just as much a captive.

Also, Leo had no clue where he was.

They drifted between rows of kelp as tall as apartment buildings. The green-and-yellow plants swayed weightlessly, like columns of helium balloons. High above, Leo saw a smudge of white that might have been the sun.

He guessed that meant they’d been here overnight. Was the
Argo II
all right? Had it sailed on without them, or were their friends still searching?

Leo couldn’t even be sure how deep they were. Plants could grow here—so not
too
deep, right? Still, he knew he couldn’t just swim for the surface. He’d heard about people who ascended too quickly and developed nitrogen bubbles in their blood. Leo wanted to avoid carbonated blood.

They drifted along for maybe half a mile. Leo was tempted to ask where Aphros was taking him, but the big sword strapped to the centaur’s back sort of discouraged conversation.

Finally the kelp forest opened up. Leo gasped. They were standing (swimming, whatever) at the summit of a high underwater hill. Below them stretched an entire town of Greek-style buildings on the seafloor.

The roofs were tiled with mother-of-pearl. The gardens were filled with coral and sea anemones. Hippocampi grazed in a field of seaweed. A team of Cyclopes was placing the domed roof on a new temple, using a blue whale as a crane.
And swimming through the streets, hanging out in the courtyards, practicing combat with tridents and swords in the arena were dozens of mermen and
mermaids
—
honest
-
to
-
goodness
fish-people.

Leo had seen a lot of crazy stuff, but he had always thought merpeople were silly fictional creatures, like Smurfs or Muppets.

There was nothing silly or cute about these merpeople, though. Even from a distance, they looked fierce and not at all human. Their eyes glowed yellow. They had sharklike teeth and leathery skin in colors ranging from coral red to ink black.

“It’s a training camp,” Leo realized. He looked at Aphros in awe. “You train heroes, the same way Chiron does?”

Aphros nodded, a glint of pride in his eyes. “We have trained all the famous mer-heroes! Name a mer-hero, and we have trained him or her!”

“Oh, sure,” Leo said. “Like…um, the Little Mermaid?”

Aphros frowned. “Who? No! Like Triton, Glaucus, Weissmuller, and Bill!”

“Oh.” Leo had no idea who any of those people were. “You trained Bill? Impressive.”

“Indeed!” Aphros pounded his chest. “I trained Bill myself. A great merman.”

“You teach combat, I guess.”

Aphros threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why does everyone assume that?”

Leo glanced at the massive sword on the fish-guy’s back. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“I teach music and poetry!” Aphros said. “Life skills! Homemaking! These are important for heroes.”

“Absolutely.” Leo tried to keep a straight face. “Sewing? Cookie baking?”

“Yes. I’m glad you understand. Perhaps later, if I don’t have to kill you, I will share my brownie recipe.” Aphros gestured behind him contemptuously. “My brother
Bythos
—
he
teaches combat.”

Leo wasn’t sure whether he felt relieved or insulted that the combat trainer was interrogating Frank, while Leo got the home economics teacher. “So, great. This is Camp…what do you call it? Camp Fish-Blood?”

Aphros frowned. “I hope that was a joke. This is Camp
_________
_
.” He made a sound that was a series of sonar pings and hisses.

“Silly me,” Leo said. “And, you know, I could really go for some of those brownies! So what do we have to do to get to the
not killing me
stage?”

“Tell me your story,” Aphros said.

Leo hesitated, but not for long. Somehow he sensed that he should tell the truth. He started at the beginning—how Hera had been his babysitter and placed him in the flames; how his mother had died because of Gaea, who had identified Leo as a future enemy. He talked about how he had spent his childhood bouncing around in foster homes, until he and Jason and Piper had been taken to Camp Half-Blood. He explained the Prophecy of Seven, the building of the
Argo II
, and their quest to reach Greece and defeat the giants before Gaea woke.

As he talked, Aphros drew some wicked-looking metal spikes from his belt. Leo was afraid he had said something wrong, but Aphros pulled some seaweed yarn from his pouch and started knitting. “Go on,” he urged. “Don’t stop.”

By the time Leo had explained the eidolons, the problem with the Romans, and all the troubles the
Argo II
had encountered crossing the United States and embarking from Charleston, Aphros had knitted a complete baby bonnet.

Leo waited while the fish centaur put away his supplies.
Aphros’s
lobster
-
claw
horns kept swimming around in his thick hair, and Leo had to resist the urge to try to rescue them.

“Very well,” Aphros said. “I believe you.”

“As simple as that?”

“I am quite good at discerning lies. I hear none from you. Your story also fits with what Hazel Levesque told us.”

“Is she—?”

“Of course,” Aphros said. “She’s fine.” He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, which sounded strange underwater—like a dolphin screaming. “My people will bring her here shortly. You must understand…our location is a carefully guarded secret. You and your friends showed up in a warship, pursued by one of Keto’s sea monsters. We did not know whose side you were on.”

“Is the ship all right?”

“Damaged,” Aphros said, “but not terribly. The skolopendra withdrew after it got a mouthful of fire. Nice touch.”

“Thank you. Skolopendra? Never heard of it.”

“Consider yourself lucky. They are nasty creatures. Keto must really hate you. At any rate, we rescued you and the other two from the creature’s tentacles as it retreated into the deep. Your friends are still above, searching for you; but we have obscured their vision. We had to be sure you were not a threat. Otherwise, we would have had to…take measures.”

Leo gulped. He was pretty sure
taking measures
did not mean baking extra brownies. And if these guys were so powerful that they could keep their camp hidden from Percy, who had all those Poseidonish water powers, they were not fish dudes to mess with. “So…we can go?”

“Soon,” Aphros promised. “I must check with Bythos. When he is done talking with your friend Gank—”

“Frank.”

“Frank. When they are done, we will send you back to your ship. And we may have some warnings for you.”

“Warnings?”

“Ah.” Aphros pointed. Hazel emerged from the kelp forest, escorted by two vicious-looking mermaids, who were baring their fangs and hissing. Leo thought Hazel might be in danger. Then he saw she was completely at ease, grinning and talking with her escorts, and Leo realized that the mermaids were laughing.

“Leo!” Hazel paddled toward him. “Isn’t this place amazing?”

They were left alone at the ridge, which must have meant Aphros really did trust them. While the centaur and the mermaids went off to fetch Frank, Leo and Hazel floated above the hill and gazed down at the underwater camp.

Hazel told him how the mermaids had warmed up to her right away. Aphros and Bythos had been fascinated by her story, as they had never met a child of Pluto before. On top of that, they had heard many legends about the horse Arion, and they were amazed that Hazel had befriended him.

Hazel had promised to visit again with Arion. The mermaids had written their phone numbers in waterproof ink on Hazel’s arm so that she could keep in touch. Leo didn’t even want to ask how mermaids got cell-phone coverage in the middle of the Atlantic.

As Hazel talked, her hair floated around her face in a cloud—like brown earth and gold dust in a miner’s pan. She looked very sure of herself and very beautiful—not at all like the shy, nervous girl in that New Orleans schoolyard with her smashed canvas lunch bag at her feet.

“We didn’t get to talk,” Leo said. He was reluctant to bring up the subject, but he knew this might be their only chance to be alone. “I mean about Sammy.”

Her smile faded. “I know…I just need some time to let it sink in. It’s strange to think that you and he…”

She didn’t need to finish the thought. Leo knew exactly how strange it was.

“I’m not sure I can explain this to Frank,” she added. “About you and me holding hands.”

She wouldn’t meet
Leo’s
eyes. Down in the valley, the Cyclopes work crew cheered as the temple roof was set in place.

“I talked to him,” Leo said. “I told him I wasn’t trying to…you know. Make trouble between you two.”

“Oh. Good.”

Did she sound disappointed? Leo wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Frank, um, seemed pretty freaked out when I summoned fire.” Leo explained what had happened in the cave.

Hazel looked stunned. “Oh, no. That
would
terrify him.”

Her hand went to her denim jacket, like she was checking for something in the inside pocket. She always wore that jacket, or some sort of overshirt, even when it was hot outside. Leo had assumed that she did it out of modesty, or because it was better for horseback riding, like a motorcycle jacket. Now he began to wonder.

His brain shifted into high gear. He remembered what Frank had said about his weakness…a piece of firewood. He thought about why this kid would have a fear of fire, and why Hazel would be so attuned to those feelings. Leo thought about some of the stories he’d heard at Camp Half-Blood. For obvious reasons, he tended to pay attention to legends about fire. Now he remembered one he hadn’t thought about in months.

“There was an old legend about a hero,” he recalled. “His lifeline was tied to a stick in a fireplace, and when that piece of wood burned up…”

Hazel’s expression turned dark. Leo knew he’d struck on the truth.

“Frank has that problem,” he guessed. “And the piece of firewood…” He pointed at Hazel’s jacket. “He gave it to you for safekeeping?”

“Leo, please don’t…I can’t talk about it.”

Leo’s instincts as a mechanic kicked in. He started thinking about the properties of wood and the corrosiveness of salt water. “Is the firewood okay in the ocean like this? Does the layer of air around you protect it?”

“It’s fine,” Hazel said. “The wood didn’t even get wet. Besides, it’s wrapped up in several layers of cloth and plastic and—” She bit her lip in frustration. “And I’m not supposed to
talk
about it! Leo, the point is if Frank seems afraid of you, or uneasy, you’ve got to understand…”

Leo was glad he was floating, because he probably would’ve been too dizzy to stand. He imagined being in Frank’s position, his life so fragile, it literally could burn up at any time. He imagined how much trust it would take to give his lifeline—his entire fate—to another person.

Frank had chosen Hazel, obviously. So when he had seen Leo—a guy who could summon fire at will—moving in on his girl…

Leo shuddered. No wonder Frank didn’t like him. And suddenly Frank’s ability to turn into a bunch of different animals didn’t seem so awesome—not if it came with a big catch like that.

Leo thought about his least favorite line in the Prophecy of Seven:
To storm or fire the world must fall.
For a long time, he’d figured that Jason or Percy stood for storm—maybe both of them together. Leo was the fire guy. Nobody said that, but it was pretty clear. Leo was one of the wild cards. If he did the wrong thing, the world could fall. No…it
must
fall. Leo wondered if Frank and his firewood had something to do with that line. Leo had already made some epic mistakes. It would be so easy for him to accidentally send Frank Zhang up in flames.