The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4) (5 page)

L
EO SPENT THE NIGHT WRESTLING
with a forty-foot-tall Athena.

Ever since they’d brought the statue aboard, Leo had been obsessed with figuring out how it worked. He was sure it had primo powers. There had to be a secret switch or a pressure plate or something.

He was supposed to be sleeping, but he just couldn’t. He spent hours crawling over the statue, which took up most of the lower deck. Athena’s feet stuck into sick bay, so you had to squeeze past her ivory toes if you wanted some painkillers. Her body ran the length of the port corridor, her outstretched hand jutting into the engine room, offering the life-sized figure of Nike that stood in her palm, like,
Here, have some Victory!
Athena’s serene face took up most of the aft pegasus stables, which were fortunately unoccupied. If Leo were a magic horse, he wouldn’t have wanted to live in a stall with an oversized goddess of wisdom staring at him.

The statue was wedged tight in the corridor, so Leo had to climb over the top and wriggle under her limbs, searching for levers and buttons.

As usual, he found nothing.

He’d done some research on the statue. He knew it was made from a hollow wooden frame covered in ivory and gold, which explained why it was so light. It was in pretty good shape, considering it was more than two thousand years old and had been pillaged from Athens, toted to Rome and secretly stored in a spider’s cavern for most of the past two millennia. Magic must’ve kept it intact, Leo figured, combined with really good craftsmanship.

Annabeth had said … well, he tried not to think about Annabeth. He still felt guilty about her and Percy falling into Tartarus. Leo knew it was
his
fault. He should have got everyone safely on board the
Argo II
before he started securing the statue. He should have realized the cavern floor was unstable.

Still, moping around wasn’t going to get Percy and Annabeth back. He had to concentrate on fixing the problems he could fix.

Anyway, Annabeth had said the statue was the key to defeating Gaia. It could heal the rift between Greek and Roman demigods. Leo figured there had to be more to it than just symbolism. Maybe Athena’s eyes shot lasers, or the snake behind her shield could spit poison. Or maybe the smaller figure of Nike came to life and busted out some ninja moves.

Leo could think of all kinds of fun things the statue might do if
he
had designed it, but the more he examined it, the more
frustrated he got. The Athena Parthenos radiated magic. Even
he
could feel that. But it didn’t seem to do anything except look impressive.

The ship careened to one side, taking evasive manoeuvres. Leo resisted the urge to run to the helm. Jason, Piper and Frank were on duty with Hazel now. They could handle whatever was going on. Besides, Hazel had insisted on taking the wheel to guide them through the secret pass that the magic goddess had told her about.

Leo hoped Hazel was right about the long detour north. He didn’t trust this Hecate lady. He didn’t see why such a creepy goddess would suddenly decide to be helpful.

Of course, he didn’t trust magic in general. That’s why he was having so much trouble with the Athena Parthenos. It had no moving parts. Whatever it did, it apparently operated on pure sorcery … and Leo didn’t appreciate that. He wanted it to make sense, like a machine.

Finally he got too exhausted to think straight. He curled up with a blanket in the engine room and listened to the soothing hum of the generators. Buford the mechanical table sat in the corner in sleep mode, making little steamy snores:
Shhh, pfft, shh, pfft.

Leo liked his quarters okay, but he felt safest here in the heart of the ship – in a room filled with mechanisms he knew how to control. Besides, maybe if he spent more time close to the Athena Parthenos, he would eventually soak in its secrets.

‘It’s you or me, Big Lady,’ he murmured as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. ‘You’re gonna cooperate eventually.’

He closed his eyes and slept. Unfortunately, that meant dreams.

He was running for his life through his mother’s old workshop, where she’d died in a fire when Leo was eight.

He wasn’t sure what was chasing him, but he sensed it closing fast – something large and dark and full of hate.

He stumbled into workbenches, knocked over toolboxes and tripped on electrical cords. He spotted the exit and sprinted towards it, but a figure loomed in front of him – a woman in robes of dry swirling earth, her face covered in a veil of dust.

Where are you going, little hero?
Gaia asked.
Stay and meet my favourite son.

Leo darted to the left, but the Earth Goddess’s laughter followed him.

The night your mother died, I warned you. I said the Fates would not allow me to kill you then. But
now
you have chosen your path. Your death is near, Leo Valdez.

He ran into a drafting table – his mother’s old workstation. The wall behind it was decorated with Leo’s crayon drawings. He sobbed in desperation and turned, but the thing pursuing him now stood in his path – a colossal being wrapped in shadows, its shape vaguely humanoid, its head almost scraping the ceiling twenty feet above.

Leo’s hands burst into flame. He blasted the giant, but the darkness consumed his fire. Leo reached for his tool belt. The pockets were sewn shut. He tried to speak – to say anything
that would save his life – but he couldn’t make a sound, as if the air had been stolen from his lungs.

My son will not allow any fires tonight
,
Gaia said from the depths of the warehouse.
He is the void that consumes all magic, the cold that consumes all fire, the silence that consumes all speech.

Leo wanted to shout:
And I’m the dude that’s all out of here!

His voice didn’t work, so he used his feet. He dashed to the right, ducking under the shadowy giant’s grasping hands, and burst through the nearest doorway.

Suddenly, he found himself at
Camp Half-Blood
, except the camp was in ruins. The cabins were charred husks. Burnt fields smouldered in the moonlight. The dining pavilion had collapsed into a pile of white rubble, and the Big House was on fire, its windows glowing like demon eyes.

Leo kept running, sure the shadow giant was still behind him.

He weaved around the bodies of Greek and Roman demigods. He wanted to check if they were alive. He wanted to help them. But somehow he knew he was running out of time.

He jogged towards the only living people he saw – a group of Romans standing at the volleyball pit. Two centurions leaned casually on their javelins, chatting with a tall skinny blond guy in a purple toga. Leo stumbled. It was that freak Octavian, the
augur
from
Camp Jupiter
, who was always screaming for war.

Octavian turned to face him, but he seemed to be in a trance. His features were slack, his eyes closed. When he spoke, it was in Gaia’s voice:
This cannot be prevented. The
Romans move east from New York. They advance on your camp, and nothing can slow them down.

Leo was tempted to punch Octavian in the face. Instead he kept running.

He climbed Half-Blood Hill. At the summit, lightning had splintered the giant pine tree.

He faltered to a stop. The back of the hill was shorn away. Beyond it, the entire world was gone. Leo saw nothing but clouds far below – a rolling silver carpet under the dark sky.

A sharp voice said, ‘Well?’

Leo flinched.

At the shattered pine tree, a woman knelt at a cave entrance that had cracked open between the tree’s roots.

The woman wasn’t Gaia. She looked more like a living Athena Parthenos, with the same golden robes and bare ivory arms. When she rose, Leo almost stumbled off the edge of the world.

Her face was regally beautiful, with high cheekbones, large dark eyes and braided liquorice-coloured hair piled in a fancy Greek hairdo, set with a spiral of emeralds and diamonds so that it reminded Leo of a Christmas tree. Her expression radiated pure hatred. Her lip curled. Her nose wrinkled.

‘The tinkerer god’s child,’ she sneered. ‘You are no threat, but I suppose my vengeance must start somewhere. Make your choice.’

Leo tried to speak, but he was about to crawl out of his skin with panic. Between this hate queen and the giant chasing him, he had no idea what to do.

‘He’ll be here soon,’ the woman warned. ‘My dark friend will not give you the luxury of a choice. It’s the cliff or the cave, boy!’

Suddenly Leo understood what she meant. He was cornered. He could jump off the cliff, but that was suicide. Even if there was land under those clouds, he would die in the fall, or maybe he would just keep falling forever.

But the cave … He stared at the dark opening between the tree roots. It smelled of rot and death. He heard bodies shuffling inside, voices whispering in the shadows.

The cave was the home of the dead. If he went down there, he would never come back.

‘Yes,’ the woman said. Around her neck hung a strange bronze-and-emerald pendant, like a circular labyrinth. Her eyes were so angry, Leo finally understood why
mad
was a word for
crazy
. This lady had been driven nuts by hatred. ‘The House of
Hades
awaits. You will be the first puny rodent to die in my maze. You have only one chance to escape, Leo Valdez. Take it.’

She gestured towards the cliff.

‘You’re bonkers,’ he managed.

That was the wrong thing to say. She seized his wrist. ‘Perhaps I should kill you now, before my dark friend arrives?’

Steps shook the hillside. The giant was coming, wrapped in shadows, huge and heavy and bent on murder.

‘Have you heard of dying in a dream, boy?’ the woman asked. ‘It is possible, at the hands of a sorceress!’

Leo’s arm started to smoke. The woman’s touch was acid. He tried to free himself, but her grip was like steel.

He opened his mouth to scream. The massive shape of the giant loomed over him, obscured by layers of black smoke.

The giant raised his fist, and a voice cut through the dream.

‘Leo!’ Jason was shaking his shoulder. ‘Hey, man, why are you hugging Nike?’

Leo’s eyes fluttered open. His arms were wrapped around the human-sized statue in Athena’s hand. He must have been thrashing in his sleep. He clung to the victory goddess like he used to cling to his pillow when he had nightmares as a kid. (Man, that had been
so
embarrassing in the foster homes.)

He disentangled himself and sat up, rubbing his face.

‘Nothing,’ he muttered. ‘We were just cuddling. Um, what’s going on?’

Jason didn’t tease him. That’s one thing Leo appreciated about his friend. Jason’s ice-blue eyes were level and serious. The little scar on his mouth twitched like it always did when he had bad news to share.

‘We made it through the mountains,’ he said. ‘We’re almost to Bologna. You should join us in the mess hall. Nico has new information.’

L
EO HAD DESIGNED
the mess hall’s walls to show real-time scenes from Camp Half-Blood. At first he had thought that was a pretty awesome idea. Now he wasn’t so sure.

The scenes from back home – the campfire sing-alongs, dinners at the pavilion, volleyball games outside the Big House – just seemed to make his friends sad. The further they got from Long Island, the worse it got. The time zones kept changing, making Leo
feel
the distance every time he looked at the walls. Here in Italy the sun had just come up. Back at Camp Half-Blood it was the middle of the night. Torches sputtered at the cabin doorways. Moonlight glittered on the waves of Long Island Sound. The beach was covered in footprints, as if a big crowd had just left.

With a start, Leo realized that yesterday – last night, whatever – had been the Fourth of July. They’d missed Camp Half-Blood’s annual party at the beach with awesome fireworks prepared by Leo’s siblings in Cabin Nine.

He decided not to mention that to the crew, but he hoped their buddies back home had had a good celebration. They needed something to keep their spirits up, too.

He remembered the images he’d seen in his dream – the camp in ruins, littered with bodies; Octavian standing at the volleyball pit, casually talking in Gaia’s voice.

He stared down at his eggs and bacon. He wished he could turn off the wall videos.

‘So,’ Jason said, ‘now that we’re here …’

He sat at the head of the table, kind of by default. Since they’d lost Annabeth, Jason had done his best to act as the group’s leader. Having been
praetor
back at Camp Jupiter, he was probably used to that, but Leo could tell his friend was stressed. His eyes were more sunken than usual. His blond hair was uncharacteristically messy, like he’d forgotten to comb it.

Leo glanced at the others around the table. Hazel was bleary-eyed, too, but of course she’d been up all night guiding the ship through the mountains. Her curly cinnamon-coloured hair was tied back in a bandanna, which gave her a commando look that Leo found kind of hot – and then immediately felt guilty about.

Next to her sat her boyfriend Frank Zhang, dressed in black workout pants and a Roman tourist T-shirt that said
CIAO
!
(was that even a word?). Frank’s old
centurion
badge was pinned to his shirt, despite the fact that the demigods of the
Argo II
were now Public Enemies Numbers 1 through 7 back at Camp Jupiter. His grim expression just reinforced his
unfortunate resemblance to a sumo wrestler. Then there was Hazel’s half-brother, Nico di Angelo. Dang, that kid gave Leo the freaky-deakies. He sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black T-shirt and jeans, that wicked silver skull ring on his finger and the Stygian sword at his side. His tufts of black hair stuck up in curls like baby bat wings. His eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he’d stared into the depths of Tartarus – which he had.

The only absent demigod was Piper, who was taking her turn at the helm with Coach Hedge, their
satyr
chaperone.

Leo wished Piper were here. She had a way of calming things down with that
Aphrodite
charm of hers. After his dreams last night, Leo could use some calm.

On the other hand, it was probably good she was above deck chaperoning their chaperone. Now that they were in the ancient lands, they had to be constantly on guard. Leo was nervous about letting Coach Hedge fly solo. The satyr was a little trigger-happy, and the helm had plenty of bright, dangerous buttons that could cause the picturesque Italian villages below them to go BOOM!

Leo had zoned out so totally he didn’t realize Jason was still talking.

‘– the House of Hades,’ he was saying. ‘Nico?’

Nico sat forward. ‘I communed with the dead last night.’

He just tossed that line out there, like he was saying he got a text from a buddy.

‘I was able to learn more about what we’ll face,’ Nico continued. ‘In ancient times, the House of Hades was a major
site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honour their ancestors.’

Leo frowned. ‘Sounds like Día de los Muertos. My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously.’

He remembered being dragged by her to the local cemetery in Houston, where they’d clean up their relatives’ gravesites and put out offerings of lemonade, cookies and fresh marigolds. Aunt Rosa would force Leo to stay for a picnic, as if hanging out with dead people were good for his appetite.

Frank grunted. ‘Chinese have that, too – ancestor worship, sweeping the graves in the springtime.’ He glanced at Leo. ‘Your Aunt Rosa would’ve got along with my grandmother.’

Leo had a terrifying image of his Aunt Rosa and some old Chinese woman in wrestlers’ outfits, whaling on each other with spiked clubs.

‘Yeah,’ Leo said. ‘I’m sure they would’ve been best buds.’

Nico cleared his throat. ‘A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honour the dead, but the House of Hades was open year round. Pilgrims could actually
speak
to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the
Necromanteion
, the Oracle of Death. You’d work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions –’

‘Special potions,’ Leo muttered. ‘Yum.’

Jason flashed him a look like,
Dude, enough.
‘Nico, go on.’

‘The pilgrims believed that each level of the temple brought you closer to the Underworld, until the dead would appear before you. If they were pleased with your offerings,
they would answer your questions, maybe even tell you the future.’

Frank tapped his mug of hot chocolate. ‘And if the spirits
weren’t
pleased?’

‘Some pilgrims found nothing,’ Nico said. ‘Some went insane or died after leaving the temple. Others lost their way in the tunnels and were never seen again.’

‘The point is,’ Jason said quickly, ‘Nico found some information that might help us.’

‘Yeah.’ Nico didn’t sound very enthusiastic. ‘The ghost I spoke to last night … he was a former priest of Hecate. He confirmed what the goddess told Hazel yesterday at the crossroads. In the first war with the giants, Hecate fought for the gods. She slew one of the giants – one who’d been designed as the
anti
-Hecate. A guy named Clytius.’

‘Dark dude,’ Leo guessed. ‘Wrapped in shadows.’

Hazel turned towards him, her gold eyes narrowing. ‘Leo, how did you know that?’

‘Kind of had a dream.’

No one looked surprised. Most demigods had vivid nightmares about what was going on in the world.

His friends paid close attention as Leo explained. He tried not to look at the wall images of Camp Half-Blood as he described the place in ruins. He told them about the dark giant and the strange woman on Half-Blood Hill, offering him a multiple-choice death.

Jason pushed away his plate of pancakes. ‘So the giant is Clytius. I suppose he’ll be waiting for us, guarding the Doors of Death.’

Frank rolled up one of the pancakes and started munching – not a guy to let impending death stand in the way of a hearty breakfast. ‘And the woman in Leo’s dream?’

‘She’s my problem.’ Hazel passed a diamond between her fingers in a sleight of hand. ‘Hecate mentioned a formidable enemy in the House of Hades – a witch who couldn’t be defeated except by me, using magic.’

‘Do you know magic?’ Leo asked.

‘Not yet.’

‘Ah.’ He tried to think of something hopeful to say, but he recalled the angry woman’s eyes, the way her steely grip made his skin smoke. ‘Any idea who she is?’

Hazel shook her head. ‘Only that …’ She glanced at Nico, and some sort of silent argument happened between them. Leo got the feeling that the two of them had had private conversations about the House of Hades and they weren’t sharing all the details. ‘Only that she won’t be easy to defeat.’

‘But there
is
some good news,’ Nico said. ‘The ghost I talked to explained how Hecate defeated Clytius in the first war. She used her torches to set his hair on fire. He burned to death. In other words, fire is his weakness.’

Everybody looked at Leo.

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Okay.’

Jason nodded encouragingly, like this was great news – like he expected Leo to walk up to a towering mass of darkness, shoot a few fireballs and solve all their problems. Leo didn’t want to bring him down, but he could still hear Gaia’s voice:
He is the void that consumes all magic, the cold that consumes all fire, the silence that consumes all speech.

Leo was pretty sure it would take more than a few matches to set that giant ablaze.

‘It’s a good lead,’ Jason insisted. ‘At least we know how to kill the giant. And this sorceress … well, if Hecate believes Hazel can defeat her, then so do I.’

Hazel dropped her eyes. ‘Now we just have to reach the House of Hades, battle our way through Gaia’s forces –’

‘Plus a bunch of ghosts,’ Nico added grimly. ‘The spirits in that temple may not be friendly.’

‘– and find the Doors of Death,’ Hazel continued. ‘Assuming we can somehow arrive at the same time as Percy and Annabeth and rescue them.’

Frank swallowed a bite of pancake. ‘We can do it. We
have
to.’

Leo admired the big guy’s optimism. He wished he shared it.

‘So, with this detour,’ Leo said, ‘I’m estimating four or five days to arrive at Epirus, assuming no delays for, you know, monster attacks and stuff.’

Jason smiled sourly. ‘Yeah. Those never happen.’

Leo looked at Hazel. ‘Hecate told you that Gaia was planning her big Wake Up party on August first, right? The Feast of Whatever?’

‘Spes,’ Hazel said. ‘The goddess of hope.’

Jason turned his fork. ‘Theoretically, that leaves us enough time. It’s only July fifth. We should be able to close the Doors of Death, then find the giants’ HQ and stop them from waking Gaia before August first.’

‘Theoretically,’ Hazel agreed. ‘But I’d still like to know
how we make our way through the House of Hades without going insane or dying.’

Nobody volunteered any ideas.

Frank set down his pancake roll like it suddenly didn’t taste so good. ‘It’s July fifth. Oh, jeez, I hadn’t even thought of that …’

‘Hey, man, it’s cool,’ Leo said. ‘You’re Canadian, right? I didn’t expect you to get me an Independence Day present or anything … unless you wanted to.’

‘It’s not that. My grandmother … she always told me that seven was an unlucky number. It was a
ghost
number. She didn’t like it when I told her there would be seven demigods on our quest. And July is the seventh month.’

‘Yeah, but …’ Leo tapped his fingers nervously on the table. He realized he was doing the Morse code for
I love you
, the way he used to do with his mom, which would have been pretty embarrassing if his friends understood Morse code. ‘But that’s just coincidence, right?’

Frank’s expression didn’t reassure him.

‘Back in China,’ Frank said, ‘in the old days, people called the seventh month the
ghost month
. That’s when the spirit world and the human world were closest. The living and the dead could go back and forth. Tell me it’s a coincidence we’re searching for the Doors of Death during the ghost month.’

No one spoke.

Leo wanted to think that an old Chinese belief couldn’t have anything to do with the Romans and the Greeks. Totally different, right? But Frank’s existence was proof that the cultures were tied together. The Zhang family went all the
way back to Ancient Greece. They’d found their way through Rome and China and finally to Canada.

Also, Leo kept thinking about his meeting with the revenge goddess Nemesis at the Great Salt Lake. Nemesis had called him the
seventh wheel
, the odd man out on the quest. She didn’t mean seventh as in
ghost
, did she?

Jason pressed his hands against the arms of his chair. ‘Let’s focus on the things we can deal with. We’re getting close to Bologna. Maybe we’ll get more answers once we find these dwarfs that Hecate –’

The ship lurched as if it had hit an iceberg. Leo’s breakfast plate slid across the table. Nico fell backwards out of his chair and banged his head against the sideboard. He collapsed on the floor, with a dozen magic goblets and platters crashing down on top of him.

‘Nico!’ Hazel ran to help him.

‘What –?’ Frank tried to stand, but the ship pitched in the other direction. He stumbled into the table and went face-first into Leo’s plate of scrambled eggs.

‘Look!’ Jason pointed at the walls. The images of Camp Half-Blood were flickering and changing.

‘Not possible,’ Leo murmured.

No way those enchantments could show anything other than scenes from camp, but suddenly a huge, distorted face filled the entire port-side wall: crooked yellow teeth, a scraggly red beard, a warty nose and two mismatched eyes – one much larger and higher than the other. The face seemed to be trying to eat its way into the room.

The other walls flickered, showing scenes from above
deck. Piper stood at the helm, but something was wrong. From the shoulders down she was wrapped in duct tape, her mouth gagged and her legs bound to the control console.

At the mainmast, Coach Hedge was similarly bound and gagged, while a bizarre-looking creature – a sort of gnome/chimpanzee combo with poor fashion sense – danced around him, doing the coach’s hair in tiny pigtails with pink rubber bands.

On the port-side wall, the huge ugly face receded so that Leo could see the entire creature – another gnome chimp, in even crazier clothes. This one began leaping around the deck, stuffing things into a burlap bag – Piper’s dagger, Leo’s Wii controllers. Then he prised the Archimedes sphere out of the command console.

‘No!’ Leo yelled.

‘Uhhh,’ Nico groaned from the floor.

‘Piper!’ Jason cried.

‘Monkey!’ Frank yelled.

‘Not monkeys,’ Hazel grumbled. ‘I think those are dwarfs.’

‘Stealing my stuff!’ Leo yelled, and he ran for the stairs.