Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

033, nurse he got out again

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SILVIANA               DUVALL

Sylvie couldn't hate New Rome, even if she tried.

She couldn't help but admire the terraced gardens, the fountains and temples, the winding cobblestone streets, and the gleaming white villas. Whoever designed New Rome had clearly poured a lot of time and love into the project.

"We have the best architects and builders in the world," Reyna said, as if reading her thoughts. But then Sylvie felt that that couldn't be true, because they didn't have Annabeth Chase. "Rome always did, in the ancient times. Many demigods stay on to live here after their time in the legion. They go to our university. They settle down to raise families. Percy seemed interested in this fact."

Sylvie wondered what that meant. Her eyebrows must have furrowed and her face must have been more distraught than she realized, because Reyna laughed.

"I didn't mean for you to assume the worst," the praetor said. "Percy also seemed interested in getting back to you."

"Sorry." Sylvie tried to tone down the overthinking.

"Don't be."

Reyna turned and whistled like she was hailing a cab. A moment later, two metal dogs raced toward them—automaton greyhounds, one silver and one gold. They brushed against Reyna's legs and regarded Sylvie with glistening ruby eyes.

"My pets," Reyna explained. "Aurum and Argentum. You don't mind if they walk with us?"

Again, Sylvie got the feeling it wasn't really a request. She noted that the greyhounds had teeth like steel arrowheads. Maybe weapons weren't allowed inside the city, but Reyna's pets could still tear her to pieces if they chose.

Reyna led her to an outdoor café, where the waiter clearly knew her. He smiled and handed her a to-go cup, then offered one to Sylvie.

"Would you like some?" Reyna asked. "They make wonderful hot chocolate. Not really a Roman drink, but chocolate is universal."

"Uh," Sylvie didn't want some, but she couldn't say no, "sure."

And so even though it was a warm June afternoon, Sylvie accepted the cup with thanks. The two of them walked on, Reyna's gold and silver dogs roaming nearby.

"I'm curious about that friend of yours," Reyna said. "In our camp, Athena is Minerva. Are you familiar with how her Roman form is different?"

Sylvie hadn't really considered it before—no offense to Athena, but she quite frankly didn't care at all. Now that she was thinking about it though, Octavian and Frank had both acted like Annabeth's very existence was a scandal.

"Is Minerva not... uh, quite as respected here?"

Reyna blew steam from her cup. "We respect Minerva. She's the goddess of crafts and wisdom... but she isn't really a goddess of war. For Romans, it's my mother, Bellona. Minerva's also a maiden goddess, like Diana... the one you call Artemis. You won't find any children of Minerva here. The idea that Minerva would have children—frankly, it's a little shocking to us."