𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 • Heroes of Olympus

J. THE QUEST BEGINS

Andy

DEMIGOD DREAMS were powerful stuff. Most of the time, they came in handy. If she was being honest, Andy kind of missed having a proper dream that didn't include singing white lizards and Leo's exquisite dance number from when they'd faced the Maenads.

But when she finally got a dream, Andy was quite disappointed to find herself standing in a very plain plain. The only interesting thing about it was a patch of burned grass.

"Dad?" Andy tried calling out. "Is this you again with your meadows?"

There was no answer. If it were indeed Apollo, he was being awfully quiet for the god of music.

Looking around, Andy caught sight of what looked like a supermarket on top of a grassy hill. She was about to walk towards it when someone came stomping down the hill, clutching a golden spear.

The guy must've been around fourteen or fifteen. He was tall, Asian, and quite bulky. Andy watched as he approached, grumbling and scowling.

Something skittered close to Andy's leg. She gazed down and gasped at the sight of an acid green snake, its neck circled by white spikes. Its pale yellow eyes gleamed with evil intelligence. It was staring straight at the guy, who seemed unaware of the snake's presence.

Andy wanted to yell at him to turn away, but dreams didn't work like that. So she stood and watched as the dude came face-to-face with the snake—the basilisk.

Andy took in a sharp breath as she took in the boy's appearance. Up close, his gold spear emitted a glow much like Jason's gladius did—the glow of Imperial gold. And his shirt; it was the same purple shirt Jason had worn when Andy first saw him. There was no doubt. He was from the Roman camp.

The snake rose up on its tail at the sight of the guy. It hissed, and expanded the collar of white spikes around its neck.

The dude's golden spear bent towards the earth, like a dowsing rod searching for water.

“Stop that,” the guy cried. He struggled to lift the spear.

Then Andy heard the grass rustle on either side of her. She watched in horror as two other basilisks slithered into the clearing.

The guy swept his spear back and forth. “Stay back!” His voice sounded squeaky. “I’ve got… um… amazing powers—and stuff.”

The basilisks hissed in three-part harmony. It sounded disturbingly like a serpentine laugh.

Guy's spear seemed to be hellbent on trying to get to the ground. The basilisks circled him, taking their time.

As though taken over by a sudden madness, Guy drove his spear into the ground. There was a gentle Crack.

Andy expected something to happen. Maybe creepers would shoot out and strangle the basilisks. Or the ground would split open and gobble them up.

But nothing happened. When Guy pulled his spear out, it's tip had broken off.

Andy blinked. She had expected the Romans to be many things, but just plain stupid was not it. If she could, she would've knocked him out with his pretty golden stick.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled at Andy's feet. Dirt spewed everywhere, and a skeletal hand clawed the air. The basilisks hissed and backed up.

Andy couldn’t blame them. She watched in horror as a human skeleton crawled out of the ground. It took on flesh as if someone were pouring gelatin over its bones, covering them in glowing, transparent gray skin. Then ghostly clothes enveloped it—a muscle shirt, camo pants, and army boots. Everything about the creature was gray: gray clothes on gray flesh on gray bones.