The Heroes of Olympus: The Demigod Diaries Page 4

  Anger kindled in Hal’s eyes. I didn’t think the old man had it in him, but he rose to his feet. For a moment, I thought he might lunge at Thalia.

  “Go ahead,” Thalia growled. “Take a swing, old man. You have any fire left?”

  “Stop it!” I ordered. Hal Green immediately backed down. I could swear the old man was terrified of me now, but I didn’t want to know what he saw in his visions. Whatever nightmares were in my future, I had to survive today first.

  “Fire,” I said. “You mentioned fire.”

  He nodded, then spread his hands to indicate he had no further details.

  An idea buzzed in the back of my head. Fire. Greek weapons. Some of the supplies we had in this apartment…the list I’d put into the search engine, hoping for a magic formula.

  “What is it?” Thalia asked. “I know that look. You’re on to something.”

  “Let me see the keyboard.” I sat at the computer and did a new Web search.

  An article popped up immediately.

  Thalia peered over my shoulder. “Luke, that would be perfect! But I thought that stuff was just a legend.”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “If it’s real, how do we make it? There’s no recipe here.”

  Hal rapped his knuckles on the desk to get our attention. His face was animated. He pointed at his bookshelves.

  “Ancient history books,” Thalia said. “Hal’s right. A lot of those are really old. They probably have information that wouldn’t be on the Internet.”

  All three of us ran to the shelves. We started pulling out books. Soon Hal’s library looked like it had been hit by a hurricane, but the old man didn’t seem to care. He tossed titles and flipped through pages as fast as we did. In fact, without him, we never would’ve found the answer. After lots of fruitless searching, he came racing over, tapping a page in an old leather-bound book.

  I scanned the list of ingredients, and my excitement built. “This is it. The recipe for Greek fire.”

  How had I known to search for it? Perhaps my dad, Hermes, the jack-of-all-trades god, was guiding me, since he’s got a way with potions and alchemy. Perhaps I’d seen the recipe somewhere before, and searching the apartment had triggered that memory.

  Everything we needed was in this room. I’d seen all of the ingredients when we’d gone through the supplies from defeated demigods: pitch from the old torches, a bottle of godly nectar, alcohol from Hal’s first-aid kit…

  Actually, I shouldn’t write down the whole recipe, even in this diary. If someone came across it and learned the secret of Greek fire…well, I don’t want to be responsible for burning down the mortal world.

  I read to the end of the list. There was only one thing missing.

  “A catalyst.” I looked at Thalia. “We need lightning.”

  Her eyes widened. “Luke, I can’t. Last time—”

  Hal dragged us to the computer and typed, You can summon lightning????

  “Sometimes,” Thalia admitted. “It’s a Zeus thing. But I can’t do it indoors. And even if we were outside, I’d have trouble controlling the strike. Last time, I almost killed Luke.”

  The hairs on my neck stood up as I remembered that accident.

  “It’ll be fine.” I tried to sound confident. “I’ll prepare the mixture. When it’s ready, there’s an outlet under the computer. You can call down a lightning strike on the house and blast it through the electrical wiring.”

  “And set the house on fire,” Thalia added.

  Hal typed, You’ll do that anyway if you succeed. You do understand how dangerous Greek fire is?

  I swallowed. “Yeah. It’s magical fire. Whatever it touches, it burns. You can’t put it out with water, or a fire extinguisher, or anything else. But if we can make enough for some kind of bomb and throw it at the leucrotae—”

  “They’ll burn.” Thalia glanced at the old man. “Please tell me the monsters aren’t immune to fire.”

  Hal knit his eyebrows. I don’t think so, he typed. But Greek fire will turn this room into an inferno. It will spread through the entire house in a matter of seconds.

  I looked at the empty enclosure. According to Hal’s clock, we had roughly an hour before sunset. When those bars rose and the leucrotae attacked, we might have a chance—if we could surprise the monsters with an explosion, and if we could somehow get around them and reach the escape panel at the back of the cage without getting eaten or burned alive. Too many ifs.

  My mind ran through a dozen different strategies, but I kept coming back to what Hal had said about sacrifice. I couldn’t escape the feeling there was no way all three of us could get out alive.

  “Let’s make the Greek fire,” I said. “Then we’ll figure out the rest.”

  Thalia and Hal helped me gather the things we needed. We started Hal’s stovetop and did some extremely dangerous cooking. Time passed too quickly. Outside in the hallway, the leucrotae growled and clacked their jaws.

  The drapes on the window blocked out all sunlight, but the clock told us we were almost out of time.

  My face beaded with sweat as I mixed the ingredients. Every time I blinked, I remembered Hal’s words on that computer screen, as if they’d been burned onto the back of my eyes: A sacrifice in your future. A choice. But also a betrayal.

  What did he mean? I was sure he hadn’t told me everything. But one thing was clear: My future terrified him.

  I tried to focus on my work. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had no choice. Maybe Hermes was watching out for me, lending me some of his alchemy know-how. Or maybe I just got lucky. Finally I had a pot full of goopy black gunk, which I poured into an old glass jelly jar. I sealed the lid.

  “There.” I handed the jar to Thalia. “Can you zap it? The glass should keep it from exploding until we break the jar.”

  Thalia didn’t look thrilled. “I’ll try. I’ll have to expose some wiring in the wall. And to summon the lightning, that’ll take a few minutes of concentration. You guys should probably step back, in case…you know, I explode or something.”

  She grabbed a screwdriver from Hal’s kitchen drawer, crawled under the computer desk, and stared tinkering with the outlet.

  Hal picked up his green leather diary. He gestured for me to follow him. We walked to the closet doorway, where Hal took a pen from his jacket and flipped through the book. I saw pages and pages of neat, cramped handwriting. Finally Hal found an empty page and scribbled something.

  He handed the book to me.

  The note read, Luke, I want you to take this diary. It has my predictions, my notes about the future, my thoughts about where I went wrong. I think it might help you.

  I shook my head. “Hal, this is yours. Keep it.”

  He took back the book and wrote, You have an important future. Your choices will change the world. You can learn from my mistakes, continue the diary. It might help you with your decisions.

  “What decisions?” I asked. “What did you see that scared you so badly?”

  His pen hovered over the page for a long time. I think I finally understand why I was cursed, he wrote. Apollo was right. Sometimes the future really is better left a mystery.

  “Hal, your father was a jerk. You didn’t deserve—”

  Hal tapped the page insistently. He scribbled, Just promise me you’ll keep up with the diary. If I’d started recording my thoughts earlier in my life, I might have avoided some stupid mistakes. And one more thing—

  He set the pen in his diary and unclipped the Celestial bronze dagger from his belt. He offered it to me.

  “I can’t,” I told him. “I mean, I appreciate it, but I’m more of a sword guy. And besides, you’re coming with us. You’ll need that weapon.”

  He shook his head and put the dagger into my hands. He returned to writing: That blade was a gift from the girl I saved. She promised me it would always protect its owner.

  Hal took a shaky breath. He must’ve known how bitterly ironic that promise sounded, given his curse. He wr
ote, A dagger doesn’t have the power or reach of a sword, but it can be an excellent weapon in the right hands. I’ll feel better knowing you have it.

  He met my eyes, and I finally understood what he was planning. “Don’t,” I said. “We can all make it out.” Hal pursed his lips. He wrote, We both know that’s impossible. I can communicate with the leucrotae. I am the logical choice for bait. You and Thalia wait in the closet. I’ll lure the monsters into the bathroom. I’ll buy you a few seconds to reach the exit panel before I set off the explosion. It’s the only way you’ll have time.

  “No,” I said.

  But his expression was grim and determined. He didn’t look like a cowardly old man anymore. He looked like a demigod, ready to go out fighting.

  I couldn’t believe he was offering to sacrifice his life for two kids he’d just met, especially after he’d suffered for so many years. And yet, I didn’t need pen and paper to see what he was thinking. This was his chance at redemption. He would do one last heroic thing, and his curse would end today, just as Apollo had foreseen.

  He scribbled something and handed me the diary. The last word read: Promise.

  I took a deep breath, and closed the book. “Yeah. I promise.”

  Thunder shook the house. We both jumped. Over at the computer desk, something went ZZZAP-POP! White smoke billowed from the computer, and a smell like burning tires filled the room.

  Thalia sat up grinning. The wall behind her was blistered and blackened. The electrical outlet had completely melted, but in her hands, the jelly jar of Greek fire was now glowing green.

  “Someone order a magic bomb?” she asked.

  Just then, the clock registered 7:03. The enclosure’s bars began to rise, and the panel at the back started to open.

  We were out of time.

  The old man held out his hand.

  “Thalia,” I said. “Give Hal the Greek fire.”

  She looked back and forth between us. “But—”

  “He has to.” My voice sounded more gravelly than usual. “He’s going to help us escape.”

  As the meaning of my words dawned on her, her face blanched. “Luke, no.”

  The bars had risen halfway to the ceiling. The trapdoor ground open slowly. A red hoof thrust its way through the crack. Inside the chute, the leucrotae growled and clacked their jaws.

  “There’s no time,” I warned. “Come on!”

  Hal took the jar of fire from Thalia. He gave her a brave smile, then nodded to me. I remembered the final word he’d written: Promise.

  I slipped his diary and dagger into my pack. Then I pulled Thalia into the closet with me.

  A split second later, we heard the leucrotae burst into the room. All three of the monsters hissed and growled and trampled across the furniture, anxious to feed.

  “In here!” Hal’s voice called. It must’ve been one of the monsters speaking for him, but his words sound brave and confident. “I’ve got them trapped in the bathroom! Come on, you ugly mutts!”

  It was strange hearing a leucrota insult itself, but the ploy seemed to work. The creatures galloped toward the bathroom.

  I gripped Thalia’s hand. “Now.”

  We burst out of the closet and sprinted for the enclosure. Inside, the panel was already closing. One of the leucrotae snarled in surprise and turned to follow us, but I didn’t dare look back. We scrambled into the cage. I lunged for the exit panel, wedging it open with my golf club.

  “Go, go, go!” I yelled.

  Thalia wriggled through as the metal plate started to bend the golf club.

  From the bathroom, Hal’s voice yelled, “You know what this is, you Tartarus scum dogs? This is your last meal!”

  The leucrota landed on me. I twisted, screaming, as its bony mouth snapped at the air where my face had just been.

  I managed to punch its snout, but it was like hitting a bag of wet cement.

  Then something grabbed my arm. Thalia pulled me into the chute. The panel closed, snapping my golf club.

  We crawled through a metal duct into another bedroom and stumbled for the door.

  I heard Halcyon Green, shouting a battle cry: “For Apollo!”

  And the mansion shook with a massive explosion.

  We burst into the hallway, which was already on fire. Flames licked the wallpaper and the carpet steamed. Hal’s bedroom door had been blown off its hinges, and fire was pouring out like an avalanche, vaporizing everything in its path.

  We reached the stairs. The smoke was so thick, I couldn’t see the bottom. We stumbled and coughed, the heat searing my eyes and my lungs. We got to the base of the stairs, and I was beginning to think we’d reach the door, when the leucrota pounced, knocking me flat on my back.

  It must have been the one that followed us into the enclosure. I suppose it had been far enough away from the explosion to survive the initial blast and had somehow escaped the bedroom, though it didn’t look like it had enjoyed the experience. Its red fur was singed black. Its pointed ears were on fire, and one of its glowing red eyes was swollen shut.

  “Luke!” Thalia screamed. She grabbed her spear, which had been lying on the ballroom floor all day, and rammed the point against the monster’s ribs, but that only annoyed the leucrota.

  It snapped its bone-plated jaws at her, keeping one hoof planted on my chest. I couldn’t move, and I knew the beast could crush my chest by applying even the slightest extra pressure.

  My eyes stung from the smoke. I could hardly breathe. I saw Thalia try to spear the monster again, and a flash of metal caught my eye—the silver bracelet.

  Something finally clicked in my mind: the story of Amaltheia the goat, who’d led us here. Thalia had been destined to find that treasure. It belonged to the child of Zeus.

  “Thalia!” I gasped. “The shield! What was it called?”

  “What shield?” she cried.

  “Zeus’s shield!” I suddenly remembered. “Aegis. Thalia, the bracelet—it’s got a code word!”

  It was a desperate guess. Thank the gods—or thank blind luck—Thalia understood. She tapped the bracelet, but this time she yelled, “Aegis!”

  Instantly the bracelet expanded, flattening into a wide bronze disk—a shield with intricate designs hammered around the rim. In the center, pressed into the metal like a death mask, was a face so hideous I would’ve run from it if I could’ve. I looked away, but the afterimage burned in my mind—snaky hair, glaring eyes, and a mouth with bared fangs.

  Thalia thrust the shield toward the leucrota. The monster yelped like a puppy and retreated, freeing me from the weight of its hoof. Through the smoke, I watched the terrified leucrota run straight into the nearest drapes, which turned into glistening black tongues and engulfed the monster. The monster steamed. It began yelling, “Help!” in a dozen voices, probably the voices of its past victims, until finally it disintegrated in the dark oily folds.

  I would’ve lain there stunned and horrified until the fiery ceiling collapsed on me, but Thalia grabbed my arm and yelled, “Hurry!”

  We bolted for the front door. I was wondering how we’d open it, when the avalanche of fire poured down the staircase and caught us. The building exploded.

  I can’t remember how we got out. I can only assume that the shockwave blasted the front door open and pushed us outside.

  The next thing I knew, I was sprawled in the traffic circle, coughing and gasping as a tower of fire roared into the evening sky. My throat burned. My eyes felt like they’d been splashed with acid. I looked for Thalia and instead found myself staring at the bronze face of Medusa. I screamed, somehow found the energy to stand, and ran. I didn’t stop until I was cowering behind the statue of Robert E. Lee.

  Yeah, I know. It sounds comical now. But it’s a miracle I didn’t have a heart attack or get hit by a car. Finally Thalia caught up to me, her spear back in Mace canister form, her shield reduced to a silver bracelet.

  Together we stood and watched the mansion burn. Bricks crumbled. Black draperies burst in
to sheets of red fire. The roof collapsed and smoke billowed into the sky.

  Thalia let loose a sob. A tear etched through the soot on her face.

  “He sacrificed himself,” she said. “Why did he save us?”

  I hugged my knapsack. I felt the diary and bronze dagger inside—the only remnants of Halcyon Green’s life.

  My chest was tight, as if the leucrota was still standing on it. I’d criticized for Hal for being a coward, but in the end, he’d been braver than me. The gods had cursed him. He’d spent most of his life imprisoned with monsters. It would’ve been easy for him to let us die like all the other demigods before us. Yet he’d chosen to go out a hero.

  I felt guilty that I couldn’t save the old man. I wished I could’ve talked to him longer. What had he seen in my future that scared him so much?

  Your choices will change the world, he’d warned.

  I didn’t like the sound of it.

  The sound of sirens brought me to my senses.

  Being runaway minors, Thalia and I had learned to distrust the police and anybody else with authority. The mortals would want to question us, maybe put us in juvie hall or foster care. We couldn’t let that happen.

  “Come on,” I told Thalia.

  We ran through the streets of Richmond until we found a small park. We cleaned up in the public restrooms as best we could. Then we lay low until full dark.

  We didn’t talk about what had happened. We wandered in a daze through neighborhoods and industrial areas. We had no plan, no glowing goat to follow anymore. We were bone tired, but neither of us felt like sleeping or stopping. I wanted to get as far as possible from that burning mansion.

  It wasn’t the first time we’d barely escaped with our lives, but we’d never succeeded at the expense of another demigod’s life. I couldn’t shake my grief.

  Promise, Halcyon Green had written.

  I promise, Hal, I thought. I will learn from your mistakes. If the gods ever treat me that badly, I will fight back.

  Okay, I know that sounds like crazy talk. But I was feeling bitter and angry. If that makes the dudes up on Mount Olympus unhappy, tough. They can come down here and tell me to my face.