the_blood_of_olympus_-_rick_riordan

at attention behind him. ‘Jacob, you’re dismissed. Why don’t you go polish the eagle or something?’
Jacob’s shoulders slumped in relief. ‘Yes, Augur. I mean Centurion! I mean Pontifex! I mean –’
‘Go.’
‘I’ll go.’
Once Jacob had hobbled off, Octavian’s face clouded. ‘Mike, I told you not to speak of my, ah,
problem. But to answer your question: no, there still seems to be some interference with Apollo’s
usual gift to me.’ He glanced resentfully at a pile of mutilated stuffed animals heaped in the corner of
the porch. ‘I can’t see the future. Perhaps that false Oracle at Camp Half-Blood is working some sort
of witchcraft. But as I’ve told you before, in strictest confidence, Apollo spoke to me clearly last
year at Camp Jupiter! He personally blessed my endeavours. He promised I would be remembered as
the saviour of the Romans.’
Octavian spread his arms, revealing his harp tattoo, the symbol of his godly forefather. Seven slash
marks indicated his years of service – more than any presiding officer, including Reyna.
‘Never fear, Mike. We will crush the Greeks. We will stop Gaia and her minions. Then we’ll take
that harpy the Greeks have been harbouring – the one who memorized our Sibylline Books – and
we’ll force her to give us the knowledge of our ancestors. Once that happens, I’m sure Apollo will
restore my gift of prophecy. Camp Jupiter will be more powerful than ever. We will rule the future.’
Mike’s scowl didn’t lessen, but he raised his fist in salute. ‘You’re the boss.’
‘Yes, I am.’ Octavian pulled his dagger from the table. ‘Now, go check on those two dwarfs you
captured. I want them properly terrified before I interrogate them again and dispatch them to
Tartarus.’
The dream faded.
‘Hey, wake up.’ Reyna’s eyes fluttered open. Gleeson Hedge was leaning over her, shaking her
shoulder. ‘We got trouble.’
His grave tone got her blood moving.
‘What is it?’ She struggled to sit up. ‘Ghosts? Monsters?’
Hedge scowled. ‘Worse. Tourists.’