the_blood_of_olympus_-_rick_riordan

‘Cool with me,’ Leo said. ‘Does that mean nobody’s allowed to kill us here?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Hazel stopped at the summit of a low hill. ‘Look. Down there.’
Below them, the hillside had been carved into an amphitheatre. Scrubby plants sprouted between
the rows of stone benches, so it looked like a concert for thorn bushes. Down at the bottom, sitting on
a block of stone in the middle of the stage, the god Apollo hunched over a ukulele, plucking out a
mournful tune.
At least, Leo assumed it was Apollo. The dude looked about seventeen, with curly blond hair and a
perfect tan. He wore tattered jeans, a black T-shirt and a white linen jacket with glittering rhinestone
lapels, like he was trying for an Elvis/Ramones/Beach Boys hybrid look.
Leo didn’t usually think of the ukulele as a sad instrument. (Pathetic, sure. But not sad.) Yet the tune
Apollo strummed was so melancholy it broke Leo’s feels.
Sitting in the front row was a young girl of about thirteen, wearing black leggings and a silver
tunic, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was whittling on a long piece of wood – making a
bow.
‘Those are the gods?’ Frank asked. ‘They don’t look like twins.’
‘Well, think about it,’ Hazel said. ‘If you’re a god, you can look like whatever you want. If you had
a twin –’
‘I’d choose to look like anything but my sibling,’ Frank agreed. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Don’t shoot!’ yelled Leo. It seemed like a good opening line, facing two archery gods. He raised
his arms and headed down to the stage.
Neither god looked surprised to see them.
Apollo sighed and went back to playing his ukulele.
When they got to the front row, Artemis muttered, ‘There you are. We were beginning to wonder.’
That took the pressure out of Leo’s pistons. He’d been ready to introduce himself, explain how
they’d come in peace, maybe tell a few jokes and offer breath mints.
‘So you were expecting us, then,’ Leo said. ‘I can tell, because you’re both so excited.’
Apollo plucked a tune that sounded like the funeral version of ‘Camptown Races’. ‘We were
expecting to be found, bothered and tormented. We didn’t know by whom. Can you not leave us to our
misery?’
‘You know they can’t, brother,’ Artemis chided. ‘They require our help with their quest, even if the
odds are hopeless.’
‘You two are full of good cheer,’ Leo said. ‘Why are you hiding out here anyway? Shouldn’t you
be … I dunno, fighting giants or something?’
Artemis’s pale eyes made Leo feel like he was a deer carcass about to be gutted.
‘Delos is our birthplace,’ said the goddess. ‘Here, we are unaffected by the Greek–Roman schism.
Believe me, Leo Valdez, if I could, I would be with my Hunters, facing our old enemy Orion.
Unfortunately, if I stepped off this island, I would become incapacitated with pain. All I can do is
watch helplessly while Orion slaughters my followers. Many gave their lives to protect your friends
and that accursed Athena statue.’
Hazel made a strangled sound. ‘You mean Nico? Is he all right?’