Death's Touch | Jason Grace

Five

Cary pulled her hairbrush out of her bag and ran it through her hair. Percy sat up in his bunk. Everyone was rushing around, getting dressed and brushing their teeth. Dakota was wrapping himself in a long piece of red-speckled cloth—a toga. One of the Lares was giving him pointers on where to tuck and fold.

"Breakfast time?" Percy asked hopefully.

Frank's head popped up from the bunk below. He had bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept well. "A quick breakfast. Then we've got the senate meeting."

Dakota's head was stuck in his toga. He staggered around like a Kool- Aid-stained ghost.

"Um," Percy said, "should I wear my bed sheets?"

Frank snorted. "That's just for the senators. There're ten of them, elected yearly. You've got to be at camp five years to qualify."

"So how come we're invited to the meeting?"

"Because... you know, the quest." Frank sounded worried, like he was afraid Percy would back out. "We have to be in on the discussion. You, me, Hazel, Cary. I mean, if you're willing..."

The four of them plus Leon had made a good team last night. Hazel and Frank and Leon and Cary were solid, dependable people. They'd accepted Percy like family. She knew that much. Still, sitting there brushing her hair, she didn't feel good about the quest.

"I, um...I'd better get ready...." He climbed out of bed and got ready.

At breakfast, Cary was conscious of everyone looking at Percy. They were whispering about the previous night:

"Two gods in one day..."

"Un-Roman fighting..."

"Water cannon up my nose..."

She was really too hungry to care. She filled up on eggs, bacon, oranges, and several mugs of coffee. Percy looked like he probably would have eaten more, but Reyna announced that the senate would now convene in the city, and all the folks in togas got up to leave.

"Here we go." Hazel fidgeted with a stone that looked like a two-carat ruby.

The ghost Vitellius appeared next to them in a purple shimmer. "Bona fortuna, you three! Ah, senate meetings. I remember the one when Caesar was assassinated. Why, the amount of blood on his toga—"

"Thanks, Vitellius," Frank interrupted. "We should get going."

Reyna and Octavian (ugh) led the procession of senators out of camp, with Reyna's metal greyhounds dashing back and forth along the road. Hazel, Frank, Percy, and Cary trailed behind. Cary noticed Nico in the group, wearing a black toga and talking with Gwen, who looked a little pale but surprisingly good considering she'd been dead the night before. Nico waved at Percy, then went back to his conversation, leaving Cary more sure than ever that Hazel's brother was trying to avoid him.

Dakota stumbled along in his red-speckled robe. A lot of other senators seemed to be having trouble with their togas, too—hiking up their hems, trying to keep the cloth from slipping off their shoulders. Cary was glad she was wearing a regular purple T-shirt and jeans.

"How could Romans move, in those things?" he wondered.

"They were just for formal occasions," Hazel said. "Like tuxedos. I bet the ancient Romans hated togas as much as we do."

"By the way, you didn't bring any weapons, did you?" Cary asked.

Percy's hand went to his pocket. "Why? Are we not supposed to?"

"No weapons allowed inside the Pomerian Line," she said.

"The what line?"

"Pomerian," Frank said. "The city limits. Inside is a sacred 'safe zone.' Legions can't march through. No weapons allowed. That's so senate meetings don't get bloody."