forest green ● jason grace

twenty

The ghosts formed ranks and encircled the crossroads. There were about a hundred in all — not an entire legion, but more than a cohort. Some carried the tattered lightning bolt banners of the Twelfth Legion, Fifth Cohort — Michael Varus's doomed expedition from the 1 980s. Others carried standards and insignia Daria didn't recognize, as if they'd died at different times, on different quests — maybe not even from Camp Jupiter.

Most were armed with Imperial gold weapons — more Imperial gold than the entire Twelfth Legion possessed. Daria could feel the combined power of all that metal humming around her, even scarier than the crackling of the glacier. She wondered if she could use her power to control the weapons, maybe disarm the ghosts, but she was afraid to try. Imperial gold wasn't just a precious metal. It was deadly to demigods and monsters.

Trying to control that much at once would be like trying to control plutonium in a reactor. If she failed, she might wipe Hubbard Glacier off the map and kill her friends.

"Thanatos!" Hazel turned to the robed figure. "We're here to rescue you. If you control these shades, tell them — "

Her voice faltered. The god's hood fell away and his robes dropped off as he spread his wings, leaving him in only a sleeveless black tunic belted at the waist. Daria could see why. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

His skin was the color of teakwood, dark and glistening like the table in the principia. His eyes were as honey-gold as Hazel's. He was lean and muscular, with a regal face and black hair flowing down his shoulders. His wings glimmered in shades of blue, black, and purple.

Daria reminded herself to breathe.

Beautiful was the right word for Thanatos — not handsome, or hot, or anything like that. He was beautiful the way an angel is beautiful — timeless, perfect, remote.

"Oh," Hazel said in a small voice.

The god's wrists were shackled in icy manacles, with chains that ran straight into the glacier floor. His feet were bare, shackled around the ankles and also chained.

"It's Cupid," Frank said.

"A really hot Cupid," Percy agreed.

"You compliment me," Thanatos said. His voice was as gorgeous as he was — deep and melodious. "I am frequently mistaken for the god of love. Death has more in common with Love than you might imagine. But I am Death. I assure you."

"We're — we're here to save you," Hazel managed. "Where's Alcyoneus?"

"Save me...?" Thanatos narrowed his eyes. "Do you understand what you are saying, Hazel Levesque? Do you understand what that will mean?"

Percy stepped forward. "We're wasting time."

He swung his sword at the god's chains. Celestial bronze rang against the ice, but Riptide stuck to the chain like glue. Frost began creeping up the blade. Percy pulled frantically. Daria ran to help. Together, they just managed to yank Riptide free before the frost reached their hands.

"That won't work," Thanatos said simply. "As for the giant, he is close. These shades are not mine. They are his."

Thanatos's eyes scanned the ghost soldiers. They shifted uncomfortably, as if an arctic wind were rattling through their ranks.

"So how do we get you out?" Daria demanded.

Thanatos turned his attention to her. "How interesting that you would want me released. How interesting indeed Daria Jackson."

"Don't." She was aware of her friends' watchful eyes. "Where is he?"

"And you, Daughter of Pluto. You of all people should not want me released."