Frank pounded his shield against the ground. The other members of the Fifth followed his lead, though they didn’t seem very excited. Their centurions, Dakota and Gwen, exchanged pained looks, like: Here we go again.
“My cohort has spoken,” Dakota said. “We accept the recruit.”
Reyna looked at Percy with pity. “Congratulations, Percy Jackson. You stand on probatio. You will be given a tablet with your name and cohort. In one year’s time, or as soon as you complete an act of valor, you will become a full member of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. Serve Rome, obey the rules of the legion, and defend the camp with honor. Senatus Populusque Romanus!”
The rest of the legion echoed the cheer.
Reyna wheeled her pegasus away from Percy, like she was glad to be done with him. Skippy spread his beautiful wings. Hazel couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy. She’d give anything for a horse like that, but it would never happen. Horses were for officers only, or barbarian cavalry, not for Roman legionnaires.
“Centurions,” Reyna said, “you and your troops have one hour for dinner. Then we will meet on the Field of Mars. The First and Second Cohorts will defend. The Third, Fourth, and Fifth will attack. Good fortune!”
A bigger cheer went up—for the war games and for dinner. The cohorts broke ranks and ran for the mess hall.
Hazel waved at Percy, who made his way through the crowd with Nico at his side. To Hazel’s surprise, Nico was beaming at her.
“Good job, Sis,” he said. “That took guts, standing for him.”
He had never called her Sis before. She wondered if that was what he had called Bianca.
One of the guards had given Percy his probatio nameplate. Percy strung it on his leather necklace with the strange beads.
“Thanks, Hazel,” he said. “Um, what exactly does it mean—your standing for me?”
“I guarantee your good behavior,” Hazel explained. “I teach you the rules, answer your questions, make sure you don’t disgrace the legion.”
“And…if I do something wrong?”
“Then I get killed along with you,” Hazel said. “Hungry? Let’s eat.”
VIII Hazel
AT LEAST THE CAMP FOOD WAS GOOD. Invisible wind spirits—aurae—waited on the campers and seemed to know exactly what everyone wanted. They blew plates and cups around so quickly, the mess hall looked like a delicious hurricane. If you got up too fast, you were likely to get beaned by beans or potted by a pot roast.
Hazel got shrimp gumbo—her favorite comfort food. It made her think about being a little girl in New Orleans, before her curse set in and her mom got so bitter. Percy got a cheeseburger and a strange-looking soda that was bright blue. Hazel didn’t understand that, but Percy tried it and grinned.
“This makes me happy,” he said. “I don’t know why…but it does.”
Just for a moment, one of the aurae became visible—an elfin girl in a white silk dress. She giggled as she topped off Percy’s glass, then disappeared in a gust.
The mess hall seemed especially noisy tonight. Laughter echoed off the walls. War banners rustled from cedar ceiling beams as aurae blew back and forth, keeping everyone’s plates full. The campers dined Roman style, sitting on couches around low tables. Kids were constantly getting up and trading places, spreading rumors about who liked whom and all the other gossip.
As usual, the Fifth Cohort took the place of least honor. Their tables were at the back of the dining hall next to the kitchen. Hazel’s table was always the least crowded. Tonight it was she and Frank, as usual, with Percy and Nico and their centurion Dakota, who sat there, Hazel figured, because he felt obligated to welcome the new recruit.
Dakota reclined glumly on his couch, mixing sugar into his drink and chugging it. He was a beefy guy with curly black hair and eyes that didn’t quite line up straight, so Hazel felt like the world was leaning whenever she looked at him. It wasn’t a good sign that he was drinking so much so early in the night.
“So.” He burped, waving his goblet. “Welcome to the Percy, party.” He frowned. “Party, Percy. Whatever.”
“Um, thanks,” Percy said, but his attention was focused on Nico. “I was wondering if we could talk, you know…about where I might have seen you before.”
“Sure,” Nico said a little too quickly. “The thing is, I spend most of my time in the Underworld. So unless I met you there somehow—”
Dakota belched. “Ambassador from Pluto, they call him. Reyna’s never sure what to do with this guy when he visits.
You should have seen her face when he showed up with Hazel, asking Reyna to take her in. Um, no offense.”
“None taken.” Nico seemed relieved to change the topic. “Dakota was really helpful, standing for Hazel.”
Dakota blushed. “Yeah, well…She seemed like a good kid. Turned out I was right. Last month, when she saved me from, uh, you know.”
“Oh, man!” Frank looked up from his fish and chips. “Percy, you should have seen her! That’s how Hazel got her stripe. The unicorns decided to stampede—”
“It was nothing,” Hazel said.
“Nothing?” Frank protested. “Dakota would’ve gotten trampled! You stood right in front of them, shooed them away, saved his hide. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Hazel bit her lip. She didn’t like to talk about it, and she felt uncomfortable, the way Frank made her sound like a hero. In truth, she’d been mostly afraid that the unicorns would hurt themselves in their panic. Their horns were precious metal—silver and gold—so she’d managed to turn them aside simply by concentrating, steering the animals by their horns and guiding them back to the stables. It had gotten her a full place in the legion, but it had also started rumors about her strange powers—rumors that reminded her of the bad old days.
Percy studied her. Those sea-green eyes made her unsettled.