The Veiled Legacy | PJO - Book Two

three

EMO MAKES A RETURN

Ariana wasn't scared of ghosts, which was lucky. Half the people in camp were dead.

Shimmering purple warriors stood outside the armoury, polishing ethereal swords. Others hung out in front of the barracks.

A ghostly boy chased a ghostly dog down the street. And at the stables a big glowing red dude with the head of a wolf guarded a herd of .... Were those unicorns?

None of the campers paid the ghosts much attention, but as Ariana entourage walked by, with Reyna in the lead and Frank and Hazel on either side, all the spirits stopped what they were doing and stared at her and Percy.

A few looked angry. The little boy ghost shrieked something like "Greggus!" and turned invisible.

Ariana and Percy stayed between Hazel and Frank and tried to look inconspicuous.

"Am I seeing things?" percy asked. "Or are those-"

"Ghosts?" Hazel turned. She had startling eyes, like fourteen-karat gold. "They're Lares. House gods."

"House gods." Ariana said. "Like ... smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?"

"They're ancestral spirits." Frank explained. He'd removed his helmet, revealing a babyish face that didn't go with his military haircut or his big burly frame. He looked like a toddler who'd taken steroids and joined the Marines.

"The Lares are kind of like mascots." he continued. "Mostly they're harmless, but Ive never seen them so agitated."

"They're staring at us." Percy said. "That ghost kid called us Greggus. Neither of our name is Greg."

"Graecus." Hazel said. "Once you've been here a while, you'll start understanding Latin. Demigods have a natural sense for it. Graecus means
Greek."

"Is that bad?" Percy asked.

Frank cleared his throat. "Maybe not. You've got that type of complexion, the dark hair and all. Maybe they think you're actually Greek. Is your family from there?"

"Don't know. Like I said, my memory is gone."

"Or maybe ..." Frank hesitated.

"What?" Ariana asked.

"Probably nothing." Frank said. "Romans and Greeks have an old rivalry. Sometimes Romans use graecus as an insult for someone who's an outsider - an enemy. I wouldnt worry about it."
He sounded pretty worried.

They stopped at the centre of camp, where two wide stone-paved roads met at a T. A street sign labelled the road to the main gates as VIA PRAETORIA.

The other road, cutting across the middle of

camp, was labelled VIA PRINCIPALIS.
Under those markers were hand-painted signs like BERKELEY 5 MILES; NEW ROME 1 MILE; OLD ROME 7,280 MILES; HADES 2,310 MILES (pointing straight down); RENO 208 MILES; and
CERTAIN DEATH: YOU ARE HERE!

For certain death, the place looked pretty clean and orderly. The buildings were freshly whitewashed, laid out in neat grids like the camp had been designed by a fussy maths teacher.

The barracks had shady porches, where campers lounged in hammocks or played cards and drank sodas.

Each dorm had a different collection of banners out front displaying Roman numerals and various animals - eagle, bear, wolf, horse and something that looked like a hamster.

Along the Via Praetoria, rows of shops advertised food, armour, weapons, coffee, gladiator equipment and toga rentals.

A chariot dealership had a big advertisement out front: CAESAR XLS W/ANTILOCK BRAKES, NO DENARII DOWN!