𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

34

𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐈𝐈 between the pillars, Jason summoned the wind to carry him and Piper ashore.

The man in purple was waiting for them.

Piper had heard tons of stories about Hercules. She'd seen several cheesy movies and cartoons. Before today, if she had thought about him at all, she'd just roll her eyes and imagine some stupid hairy dude in his thirties with a barrel chest and a gross hippie beard, with a lion skin over his head and a big club, like a caveman. She imagined he would smell bad, belch, and scratch himself a lot, and speak mostly in grunts.

She was not expecting this.

His feet were bare, covered in white sand. His robes made him look like a priest, though Piper couldn't remember which rank of priest wore purple. Was that cardinals? Bishops? And did the purple color mean he was the Roman version of Hercules rather than the Greek? His beard was fashionably scruffy, like Piper's dad and his actor friends wore theirs— the sort of I just happened not to shave for two days and I still look awesome look.

He was well built, but not too stocky. His ebony hair was close-cropped, Roman style. He had startling blue eyes like Jason's, but his skin was coppery, as if he'd spent his entire life on a tanning bed. The most surprising thing: he looked about twenty. Definitely no older. He was handsome in a rugged but not-at-all-caveman way.

He did in fact have a club, which lay in the sand next to him, but it was more like an oversized baseball bat—a five-foot-long polished cylinder of mahogany with a leather handgrip studded in bronze. Coach Hedge would have been jealous.

Jason and Piper landed at the edge of the surf. They approached slowly, careful not to make any threatening moves. Hercules watched them with no particular emotion, as if they were some form of seabird he had never noticed before.

"Hello," Piper said. Always a good start.

"What's up?" Hercules said. His voice was deep but casual, very modern. He could've been greeting them in the high school locker room.

"Uh, not much." Piper winced. "Well, actually, a lot. I'm Piper. This is Jason. We—"

"Where's your lion skin?" Jason interrupted.

Piper wanted to elbow him, but Hercules looked more amused than annoyed.

"It's ninety degrees out here," he said. "Why would I wear my lion skin? Do you wear a fur coat to the beach?"

"I guess that makes sense." Jason sounded disappointed. "It's just that the pictures always show you with a lion skin."

Hercules glared at the sky accusingly, like he wanted to have words with his father, Zeus. "Don't believe everything you hear about me. Being famous isn't as fun as you might think."

"Tell me about it," Piper sighed.

Hercules fixed those brilliant blue eyes on her. "Are you famous?"

"My dad... he's in the movies."

Hercules snarled. "Don't get me started with the movies. Gods of Olympus, they never get anything right. Have you seen one movie about me where I look like me?"

Piper had to admit he had a point. "I'm surprised you're so young."

"Ha! Being immortal helps. But, yes, I wasn't so old when I died. Not by modern standards. I did a lot during my years as a hero... too much, really." His eyes drifted to Jason. "Son of Zeus, eh?"