Read Online The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan - Free Book Online Page A

shoulder. ‘We got trouble.’
    His grave tone got her blood moving.
    ‘What is it?’ She struggled to sit up. ‘Ghosts? Monsters?’
    Hedge scowled. ‘Worse.
Tourists
.’



VII
Reyna
    T HE HORDES HAD ARRIVED .
    In groups of twenty or thirty, tourists swarmed through the ruins, milling around the villas, wandering the cobblestone paths, gawking at the colourful frescoes and mosaics.
    Reyna worried how the tourists would react to a forty-foot-tall statue of Athena in the middle of the courtyard, but the Mist must have been working overtime to obscure the mortals’ vision.
    Each time a group approached, they’d stop at the edge of the courtyard and stare in disappointment at the statue. One British tour guide announced, ‘Ah, scaffolding. It appears this area is undergoing restoration. Pity. Let’s move along.’
    And off they went.
    At least the statue didn’t rumble, ‘DIE, UNBELIEVERS!’ and zap the mortals to dust. Reyna had once dealt with a statue of the goddess Diana like that. It hadn’t been her most relaxing day.
    She recalled what Annabeth had told her about the Athena Parthenos: its magical aura both attracted monsters and kept them at bay. Sure enough, every so often, out of the corner of her eye, Reyna would spot glowing white spirits in Roman clothes flitting among the ruins, frowning at the statue in consternation.
    ‘Those
lemures
are everywhere,’ Gleeson muttered. ‘Keeping their distance for now – but come nightfall we’d better be ready to move. Ghosts are always worse at night.’
    Reyna didn’t need to be reminded of that.
    She watched as an elderly couple in matching pastel shirts and Bermuda shorts tottered through a nearby garden. She was glad they didn’t come any closer. Around the camp, Coach Hedge had rigged all sorts of trip wires, snares and oversized mousetraps that wouldn’t stop any self-respecting monster, but they might very well bring down a senior citizen.
    Despite the warm morning, Reyna shivered from her dreams. She couldn’t decide which was more terrifying – the impending destruction of New Rome, or the way Octavian was poisoning the legion from the inside.
    Your quest is a fool’s errand
.
    Camp Jupiter needed her. The Twelfth Legion needed her. Yet Reyna was halfway across the world, watching a satyr toast blueberry waffles on a stick over an open fire.
    She wanted to talk about her nightmares, but she decided to wait until Nico woke up. She wasn’t sure she’d have the courage to describe them twice.
    Nico kept snoring. Reyna had discovered that once he fell asleep it took a
lot
to wake him up. The coach could do agoat-hoof tap dance around Nico’s head and the son of Hades wouldn’t even budge.
    ‘Here.’ Hedge offered her a plate of flame-grilled waffles with fresh sliced kiwi and pineapple. It all looked surprisingly good.
    ‘Where are you getting these supplies?’ Reyna marvelled.
    ‘Hey, I’m a satyr. We’re
very
efficient packers.’ He took a bite of waffle. ‘We also know how to live off the land!’
    As Reyna ate, Coach Hedge took out a notepad and started to write. When he was finished, he folded the paper into an aeroplane and tossed it into the air. A breeze carried it away.
    ‘A letter to your wife?’ Reyna guessed.
    Under the rim of his baseball cap, Hedge’s eyes were bloodshot. ‘Mellie’s a cloud nymph. Air spirits send stuff by paper aeroplane all the time. Hopefully her cousins will keep the letter going across the ocean until it finds her. It’s not as fast as an Iris -message, but, well, I want our kid to have some record of me, in case, you know …’
    ‘We’ll get you home,’ Reyna promised. ‘You will see your kid.’
    Hedge clenched his jaw and said nothing.
    Reyna was pretty good at getting people to talk. She considered it essential to know her comrades-in-arms. But she’d had a tough time convincing Hedge to open up about his wife, Mellie, who was close to giving birth back at Camp Half-Blood. Reyna had