Frank
As we marched to the war games, I replayed the day in my mind. I couldn't believe how close I'd come to death.
This morning on sentry duty, before the Jackson twins showed up, I had almost told Hazel my secret. The two of us had been standing for hours in the chilly fog, watching the commuter traffic on highway 24. Hazel had been complaining about the cold.
"I'd give anything to be warm," she said her, her teeth chattering, "I wish we had a fire"
Even with her armor on, she looked great. I liked the way her cinnamon-toast-colored hair curled around the edges of her helmet, and the way her chin dimpled when she frowned. She was tiny compared to me, which made me feel like a big clumsy ox. I wanted to put my arms around her to warm her up, but I'd never do that. She'd probably hit me, and I'd lose the only friend I had at camp.
I could make a really impressive fire, I thought. Of course it would only burn for a few minutes, and then I'd die...
It was scary that I even considered it. Hazel had that effect on me. Whenever she wanted something, I had the irrational urge to provide it. I wanted to be the old-fashioned knight riding to her rescue, which was stupid, as she was way more capable at everything than I was.
I imagined what my grandmother would say: Frank Zhang riding to the rescue? Ha! He'd fall off his horse and break his neck.
Hard to believe it had only been six weeks since I'd left my grandmother's house- six weeks since my mom's funeral.
Everything had happened since then: wolves arriving at my grandmother's door, the journey to Camp Jupiter, the weeks I'd spent in the Fifth Cohort trying not to be a complete failure. Through it all, I'd kept the half-burned piece of firewood wrapped in a cloth in my coat pocket.
'Keep it close', my grandmother had warned. 'As long as it is safe you are safe'
The problem was it burned so easily. I remembered the trip south from Vancouver. When the temperature dropped below freezing near Mount Hood, I had brought out the piece of tinder and held it in my hands, imagining how nice it would be to have some fire. Immediately, the charred end blazed with a searing yellow flame. It lit up the night and warmed me to the bone, but I could feel my life slipping away, as if I was the one being consumed rather than the wood. I'd thrust the flame into a snowbank. For a horrible moment it kept burning. When it finally went out, I got my panic under control. I wrapped the piece of wood and put it back inn my coat pocket, determined not to bring it out again. But I couldn't forget it.
It was as though someone had said, "Whatever you do, don't think about that stick bursting into flame!"
So of course that's all I thought about.
On sentry duty with Hazel, I would try to take my mind off it. I loved spending time with her. I asked her questions about growing up in New Orleans, but she got edgy at my questions, so we made small talk instead. Just for fun we tried to speak French to each other. Hazel had some Creole blood on her mother's side. I had taken French in school. Neither of us was very fluent, and Louisiana French was so different from Canadian French it was almost impossible to converse. When I asked Hazel how her beef was feeling today, and she replied that my shoe was green, we decided to give up.
Then Percy and Lani Jackson arrived.
Sure, I had seen kids fight monsters before. I'd fought plenty of them myself on my journey from Vancouver. But I'd never seen gorgons. I'd never seen a goddess in person. And the way the twins controlled the Little Tiber- wow. I wish I had powers like that.
I could still feel the gorgons' claws pressing into my arms and smell their snaky breath- like dead mice and poison. If not for Percy and Lani, those grotesque hags would have carried me away. I'd be a pile of bones in the back of a Bargain Mart by now.
After that incident at the river, Reyna had sent me to the armory, which had given me way too much time to think. While I polished swords, I remembered Juno, warning us to unleash Death.
Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea of what the goddess meant. I had tried to hide my shock when Juno had appeared, but she looked exactly like my grandmother had described- right down to the goatskin cape.
'She chose your path years ago' Grandmother had told me. 'And it will not be easy'
I glanced at my bow in the corner of the armory. I'd feel better if Apollo would claim me as a son. I had been sure my godly parent would speak up on my sixteenth birthday, which passed two weeks ago.
Sixteen was an important milestone for Romans. It had been my first birthday at camp. But nothing had happened. Now I hoped I would be claimed on the Feast of Fortuna, though from what Juno had said, we'd be in a fight for our lives that day.
My father had to be Apollo. Archery was the only thing I was good at. Years ago, my mother had told me that our family name, Zhang, meant "master of bows" in Chinese. That must've been a hint about my dad.
I put down my polishing rags. I looked at the ceiling. "Please, Apollo, if you're my dad, tell me. I want to be an archer like you"
"No you don't" a voice grumbled.
I jumped out of my seat. Vitellius, the Fifth Cohort's Lar, was shimmering behind me. His full name was Gaius Vitellius Reticulus, but the other cohorts called him Vitellius the Ridiculous.
"Hazel Levesque sent me to check on you" Vitellius said, hiking up his sword belt. "Good thing, too. Look at the state of this armor!"
Vitellius wasn't one to talk. His toga was baggy, his tunic barely fit over his belly, and his scabbard fell of his belt every three seconds, but I didn't bother.
"As for archers" the ghost continued, "they're wimps! Back in my day, archery was a job for barbarians. A good Roman should be in the fray, gutting his enemy with spear and sword like a civilized man! That's how we did it in the Punic Wars. Roman up, boy!"
I sighed, "I thought you were in Caesars army"
"I was!"
"Vitellius, Caesar was hundreds of years before the Punic Wars. You couldn't have been alive that long"
"Questioning my honor?" Vitellius looked so mad, his purple aura glowed. He drew his ghostly gladius and yelled, "Take that!"
He ran the sword, which was about as deadly as a laser pointer, through my chest a few times.
"Ouch" I said, just to be nice.
Vitellius looked satisfied and put his sword away. "Perhaps you'll think twice about doubting your elders next time! Now... it was your sixteenth birthday recently, wasn't it?"
I nodded. I wasn't sure how Vitellius knew this, since I hadn't told anyone except Hazel, but ghosts had ways of finding out secrets. Eavesdropping while invisible was probably one of them.
"So that's why you're a grumpy gladiator," The Lar said. "Understandable. The sixteenth birthday is your day of manhood! Your godly parent should have claimed you, no doubt about it, even if with only a small omen. Perhaps he thought you were younger. You look younger, you know, with that pudgy baby face."
"Thanks for reminding me" I muttered.
"Yes I remember my sixteenth" Vitellius said happily. "Wonderful omen! A chicken in my underpants"
"Excuse me?"
Vitellius puffed with pride. "That's right! I was at the river changing my clothes for my Liberalia. Rite of passage into manhood you know. We did things properly back then. I'd taken off my childhood toga and was washing up to don the adult one. Suddenly, a pure-white chicken ran out of nowhere, dove into my loincloth, and ran off with it. I wasn't wearing it at the time."
"That's good," I said. "And can I just say: Too much information?"
"Mm." Vitellius wasn't listening, "That was the sign I was descended from Aesculapius, the god of medicine. I took my cognomen, my third name, Reticulus, because it meant undergarment to remind me of the blessed day when a chicken stole my loincloth"
"So, your name means Mr. Underwear?"
"Praise the gods! I became a surgeon in the legion, and the rest is history" He spread his arms generously, "Don't give up, boy. Maybe your father is running late. Most omens are not as dramatic as a chicken of course. I knew a fellow once who got a dung beetle-"
"Thanks Vitellius" I said, "But I have to finish polishing this armor-"
"And the gorgon's blood?"
I froze. I hadn't told anyone about that. As far as I knew, only the twins had seen me pocket the vials at the river, and they hadn't had a chance to talk about it.
"Come now," Vitellius chided. "I'm a healer. I know the legends about gorgon's blood. Show me the vials"
Reluctantly, I brought out the two ceramic flasks I'd retrieved from the Little Tiber. Spoils of war were often left behind when a monster dissolved- sometimes a tooth, or a weapon, or even the monster's entire head. I had known what the two vials were immediately. By tradition they belonged to Percy and Lani, who had killed the gorgons, but I couldn't help thinking. What if I could use them?
"Yes" Vitellius studied the vials approvingly. "Blood taken from the right side of a gorgon's body can cure any disease, even bring the dead back to life. The goddess Minerva once gave a vial of it to my divine ancestor, Aesculapius. But blood from the left side of a gorgon- instantly fatal. So, which is which?"
I looked down at the vials, "I don't know. They're identical"
"Ha! But you're hoping the right vial could solve your problem with the burned stick, eh? Maybe break your curse?"
I was so stunned I couldn't talk.
"Don't worry my boy" The ghost chuckled. "I won't tell anyone. I'm a Lar, a protector of the cohort! I wouldn't do anything to endanger you"
"You stabbed me through the chest with your sword"
"Trust me my boy! I have sympathy for you, carrying the curse of that Argonaut"
"The... what?"
Vitellius waved away the question. "Don't be modest. You've got ancient roots. Greek as well as Roman. It's no wonder Juno-" He tilted his head, as if listening to a voice from above. His face went slack. His entire aura flickered green. "But I've said enough! At any rate, I'll let you work out who gets the gorgon's blood. I suppose that newcomer Percy or his sister could use it too, with his memory problem"
I wondered what Vitellius had been about to say and what had made him so scared, but I got the feeling that for once Vitellius was going to keep his mouth shut.
I looked down at the vials. I hadn't even thought about Percy needing them, or Lani. I felt guilty that I'd been intending to use the blood for himself. "Yeah. Of course. He should have it"
"Ah, but if you want my advice..." Vitellius looked up nervously again. "You should all wait on the gorgon blood. If my sources are right, you're going to need it on your quest"
"Quest?"
The doors of the armory flew open.
Reyna stormed in with her metal greyhounds. Vitellius vanished. He might have liked chickens, but he did not like the praetor's dogs.
"Frank" Reyna looked troubled. "That's enough with the armor. Go find Hazel. Get the Jacksons down here. They've been up there too long. I don't want Octavian..." She hesitated. "Just get them down here"
So I had run all the way to Temple Hill.
Walking back the twins, mainly Percy had asked tons of questions about Hazel's brother, Nico, but I didn't know that much.
"He's okay," I said, "He's not like Hazel-"
"How do you mean?" Lani asked.
"Oh, um..." I coughed. I'd meant that Hazel was better looking and much nicer, but I decided not to say that. "Nico is kind of mysterious. He makes everybody else nervous, being the son of Pluto and all"
"But not you?" Percy questioned.
I shrugged. "Pluto's cool. It's not his fault he runs the Underworld. He just got bad luck when the gods were dividing up the world, you know? Jupiter got the sky, Neptune got the sea, and Pluto got the shaft."
"Death doesn't scare you?"
I almost wanted to laugh. 'Not at all! Got a match?'
Instead I said, "Back in the old times, like the Greek times, when Pluto was called Hades, he was more of a death god. When he became Roman, he got more... I don't know, respectable. He became the god of wealth too. Everything under the earth belongs to him. So I don't think of him as being real scary"
Lani scratched her head, and Percy spoke, doing that thing where it's like what one is saying comes out of the others mouth, "How does a god become Roman? If he's Greek, wouldn't he stay Greek?"
I walked a few steps, thinking about that. Vitellius would've given Percy and Lani an hour-long lecture on the subject, probably with a PowerPoint presentation, but I took my best shot. "The way Romans saw it, they adopted the Greek stuff and perfected it"
Lani made a sour face, "Perfected it? Like there was something wrong with it?"
I remembered what Vitellius had said: you've got ancient roots. Greek as well as Roman. My grandmother had said something similar.
"I don't know" I admitted. "Rome was more successful than Greece. They made this huge empire. The gods became a bigger deal in Roman times- more powerful and widely known. That's why they're still around today. So many civilizations base themselves on Rome. The gods changed to Roman because that's where the center of power was. Jupiter was... well, more responsible as a Roman god than he had been when he was Zeus. Mars became a lot more important and disciplined"
"And Juno became a hippie bag lady" The twins sassed in unison.
"So, you're saying the old Greek gods-" Lani began.
"They just changed permanently to Roman? There's nothing left of the Greek?" Percy finished.
"Uh..." I looked around to make sure there were no campers or Lates nearby, but the main gates were still a hundred yards away. "That's a sensitive topic. Some people say Greek influence is still around, like it's still a part of the gods' personalities. I've heard stories of demigods occasionally leaving Camp Jupiter. They reject Roman training and try to follow the older Greek style- like being solo heroes instead of working as a team the way the legion does. And back in the ancient days, when Rome fell, the eastern half of the empire survived- the Greek half"
Percy stared at him, "I didn't know that"
"It was called Byzantium" I liked saying that word, it sounded cool, "The eastern empire lasted another thousand years, but it was always more Greek than Roman. For those of us who follow the Roman way, it's kind of a sore subject. That's why, whatever country we settle in, Camp Jupiter is always in the west- the Roman part of the territory. The east is considered bad luck"
"Huh" Lani frowned.
I couldn't blame her for feeling confused. The Greek/Roman stuff gave me a headache too.
We reached the gates.
"I'll take you both to the baths to get you cleaned up" Frank said. "But first... about those vials I found at the river"
"Gorgon's blood" Lani said.
"One vial heals. One is deadly poison" Percy added.
My eyes widened. "You know about that? Listen, I wasn't going to keep them. I just-"
"We know why you did it, Frank" Lani comforted.
"You do?"
"Yeah" Percy smiled. "If we'd come into camp carrying a vial of poison, that would've looked bad. You were trying to protect us"
"Oh... right" I wiped the sweat off my palms. "But if we could figure out which vial was which, it might heal your memory"
Percy's smile faded. He gazed across the hills. "Maybe... I guess. But you should hang on to those vials for now"
"There's a battle coming. We may need them to save lives" Lani finished.
I stared at them, a little bit in awe. They had a chance to get their memory back, or at least one of them, and they were willing to wait in case someone else needed the vial more? Romans were supposed to be unselfish and help their comrades, but I wasn't sure anyone else at camp would have made that choice.
"So, neither of you remember anything?" I asked. "Family, friends?"
Lani reached for the patch of skin right above her elbow and Percy fingered the clay beads around his neck. "Only glimpses. Murky stuff. A girlfriend... I thought she'd be at camp" Percy looked at me carefully, as if making a decision, "Her name was Annabeth. You don't know her, do you?"
I shook my head. "I know everybody at camp, but no Annabeth. What about your family. Is your mom mortal?"
Percy cast a glance at his sister before answering "I guess so... she's probably worried out of her mind. Does your mom get to see you much?"
I took towels out of a supply shed. "She died"
Lani knit her brow, "How?"
Usually I would lie. I'd say an accident and shut off conversation. Otherwise my emotions got out of control. I couldn't cry at Camp Jupiter. I couldn't show weakness. But with the twins, I found it easier to talk.
"She died in the war" I said, "Afghanistan"
"She was in the military?" Percy asked.
"Canadian. Yeah."
"Canada? I didn't know-"
"Most Americans don't" I sighed. "But yeah, Canada has troops there. My mom was a captain. She was one of the first women to die in combat. She saved some soldiers who were pinned down by enemy fire. She... she didn't make it. The funeral was right before I came down here"
The twins both nodded. Neither asked for more details, which I appreciated. They didn't say they were sorry or make any of the well-meaning comments I always hated: Oh, you poor guy. That must be so hard on you. You have my deepest condolences.
It was like they had faced death before, like they knew about grief. What mattered was listening. You didn't need to say you were sorry. The only thing that helped moving on- moving forward.
Lani had a disconnected expression, like she was one the breakthrough of something.
"How about you show me the baths now" Percy suggested. "I'm filthy"
I managed a smile. "Yeah. You kind of are."
As we walked into the steam filled room, I thought of my grandmother, my mom, and my cursed childhood, thanks to Juno and her piece of firewood. I almost wished I could forget my past like the twins.