ONE LAST TIME . . . heroes of olympus

97

SNAKE MEN WERE not on Kat's top ten list of monsters for today, but that's what she was seeing.

They stopped a few yards from the Argo II, and she got a good look at them. Not that she wanted one, but beggars can't be choosers or whatever.

The one in the lead held his head high. His face was chiselled and bronze, his eyes black as basalt, his curly dark hair glistening with oil. His upper body rippled with muscles, covered only by a Greek chlamys — a white wool cloak loosely wrapped and pinned at the shoulder. From the waist down, his body was one giant serpent trunk — about eight feet of green tail undulating behind him as he moved.

In one hand he carried a staff topped with a glowing green jewel. In his other, he carried a platter covered with a silver dome, like a main course for a fancy dinner.

The two guys behind him appeared to be guards. They wore bronze breastplates and elaborate helmets topped with horsehair bristles. Their spears were tipped with green stone points. Their oval shields were emblazoned with a large Greek letter K — kappa.

The leader looked up and studied the demigods. His expression was intense but inscrutable. He might have been angry or worried or terribly in need of a restroom.

"Permission to come aboard." His raspy voice almost reminded Kat of her uncle's when he was sober.

"Who are you?" asked Piper.

He fixed his dark eyes on her. "I am Kekrops, the first and eternal king of Athens. I would welcome you to my city." He held up the covered platter. "Also, I brought a Bundt cake."

Piper glanced at the crew. "A trick?"

"Probably," said Annabeth.

"At least he brought dessert." Percy smiled down at the snake guys. "Welcome aboard!"

Kekrops agreed to leave his guards above deck with Buford the table, who ordered them to drop and give him twenty push-ups. The guards seemed to take this as a challenge.

Meanwhile, the king of Athens was invited to the mess hall for a 'get to know you' meeting.

"Please take a seat," offered Jason, ever the politest.

Kekrops wrinkled his nose. "Snake people do not sit."

"Please remain standing," commented Kat. She cut the cake and stuffed a piece in her mouth, figuring that if it was poisoned, she'd probably enjoy it because she's a sadist and a poison lover, apparently. It wasn't poisoned, for your information. In fact, it was pretty good.

"Yo," she said, nodding as she pointed down at the cake. "Snake people know how to make Bundt cake. Kind of orangey, with a hint of honey. Needs a glass of milk."

"Snake people do not drink milk," Kekrops said. "We are lactose-intolerant reptiles."

"Me, too!" Frank piped up. "I mean . . . lactose intolerant. Not a reptile. Though I can be a reptile sometimes—"

"Anyway," interrupted Hazel, "King Kekrops, what brings you here? How did you know we'd arrived?"

"I know everything that happens in Athens," answered Kekrops. "I was the city's founder, its first king, born of the earth. I am the one who judged the dispute between Athena and Poseidon, and chose Athena to be the patron of the city."

"No hard feelings, though," muttered Percy.

Annabeth elbowed him. "I've heard of you, Kekrops. You were the first to offer sacrifices to Athena. You built her first shrine on the Acropolis."

"Correct." Kekrops sounded bitter, like he regretted his decision. "My people were the original Athenians — the gemini."

"Like your zodiac sign?" asked Percy. "I'm a Leo."