the_blood_of_olympus_-_rick_riordan

if that was part of the shape-changers’ hideout or not. Nothing moved on the parapets. The entrance of
the cave sat about seventy feet down the cliff face – a circle of black in the chalky yellow rock like
the hole of a giant pencil sharpener.
Nestor’s Cave, the Laundromat ghost had called it. Supposedly the ancient king of Pylos had
stashed his treasure there in times of crisis. The ghost also claimed that Hermes had once hidden the
stolen cattle of Apollo in that cave.
Cows.
Piper shuddered. When she was little, her dad had driven her past a meat-processing plant in
Chino. The smell had been enough to turn her into a vegetarian. Ever since, just the thought of cows
made her ill. Her experiences with Hera the cow queen, the katoblepones of Venice and the pictures
of creepy death cows in the House of Hades hadn’t helped.
Piper was just starting to think, Frank’s been gone too long – when he appeared at the cave
entrance. Next to him stood a tall grey-haired man in a white linen suit and a pale yellow tie. The
older man pressed a small shiny object – like a stone or a piece of glass – into Frank’s hands. He and
Frank exchanged a few words. Frank nodded gravely. Then the man turned into a seagull and flew
away.
Frank picked his way down the trail until he reached Piper.
‘I found them,’ he said.
‘I noticed. You okay?’
He stared at the seagull as it flew towards the horizon.
Frank’s close-cropped hair pointed forward like an arrow, making his gaze even more intense. His
Roman badges – mural crown, centurion, praetor – glittered on his shirt collar. On his forearm, the
SPQR tattoo with the crossed spears of Mars stood out darkly in the full sunlight.
He looked good in his new outfit. The giant warthog had slimed his old clothes pretty badly, so
Piper had taken him for some emergency shopping in Pylos. Now he wore new black jeans, soft
leather boots and a dark green Henley shirt that fitted him snugly. He’d been self-conscious about the
shirt. He was used to hiding his bulk in baggy clothes, but Piper assured him he didn’t have to worry
about that any more. Since his growth spurt in Venice, he’d grown into his bulkiness just fine.
You haven’t changed, Frank, she’d told him. You’re just more you.
It was a good thing Frank Zhang was still so sweet and soft-spoken. Otherwise he would’ve been a
scary guy.
‘Frank?’ she prompted gently.
‘Yeah, sorry.’ He focused on her. ‘My, uh … cousins, I guess you’d call them … they’ve been
living here for generations, all descended from Periclymenus the Argonaut. I told them my story, how
the Zhang family had gone from Greece to Rome to China to Canada. I told them about the legionnaire
ghost I saw in the House of Hades, urging me to come to Pylos. They … they didn’t seem surprised.
They said it’s happened before, long-lost relatives coming home.’
Piper heard the wistfulness in his voice. ‘You were expecting something different.’
He shrugged. ‘A bigger welcome. Some party balloons. I’m not sure. My grandmother told me I
would close the circle – bring our family honour and all that. But my cousins here … they acted kind