The Shadow Summoner | Book Three - PJO Universe

three

CRASHING FUNERALS

The legion sentries spotted them from a long way off, as legion sentries are supposed to do.

By the time their small band arrived at the fort's main gates, a crowd had gathered. Demigods lined either side of the street and watched in curious silence as they carried Ariana's coffin through the camp.

No one questioned them.

No one tried to stop them. The weight of all those eyes was oppressive.

Hazel led them straight down the Via Praetoria.
Some legionnaires stood on the porches of their barracks-their half-polished armor temporarily forgotten, guitars set aside, card games unfinished.

Glowing purple Lares, the house gods of the legion, milled about, drifting through walls or people with little regard for personal space.

Giant eagles whirled overhead, eyeing us like potentially tasty rodents. Apollo began to realize how sparse the crowd was.

The camp seemed...not deserted, exactly, but only half full. A few young heroes walked on crutches.

Others had arms in casts. Perhaps some of them were just in their barracks, or in the sick bay, or on an extended march, but Apollo didn't like the haunted, grief-stricken expressions of the legionnaires who watched themselves

Apollo remembered the gloating words of the eurynomos at Lake Temescal: I HAVE ALREADY TASTED THE FLESH OF YOUR COMRADES! AT THE BLOOD MOON, YOU WILL JOIN THEM.

Apollo wasn't sure what a blood moon was. Lunar things were more his sister's department. But he didn't like the sound of it.

He had quite enough of blood. From the looks of the legionnaires, so had they.

Then Apollo thought about something else the ghoul had said: YOU WILL ALL JOIN THE KING'S DEAD.

Apollo thought about the words of the prophecy they had received in the Burning Maze, and a troubling realization started to form in his head.

He did his best to suppress it. He has already had his full day's quota of terror.

They passed the storefronts of merchants who were allowed to operate inside the fort's walls-only the most essential services, like a chariot dealership, an armory, a gladiator supply store, and a coffee bar.

In front of the coffee place stood a two-headed barista, glowering at them with both faces, his green apron stained with latte foam.

Finally they reached the main intersection, where two roads came to a T in front of the principia. On the steps of the gleaming white headquarters building, the legion's praetors waited for them.

Apollo almost didn't recognize Frank Zhang. The first time he had seen him, back when he was a god and he was a legion newbie, Frank had been a baby-faced, heavyset boy with dark flattop hair and an adorable fixation on archery.

He'd had this idea that Apollo might be his father. He prayed to m him all the time.

Honestly, he was so cute Apollo would've been happy to adopt him, but alas, he was one of Mars'.

The second time he saw Frank, during his voyage on the Argo II, he'd had a growth spurt or a magical testosterone injection or something.

He'd grown taller, stronger, more imposing- though still in an adorable, cuddly, grizzly-bear sort of way.

Now, as Apollo had often noticed happening with young men still coming into their own, Frank's weight had begun to catch up to his growth spurt.

He was once again a big, girthy guy with baby cheeks you just wanted to pinch, only now he was larger and more muscular.