BLOOD OF OLYMPUS

ix
Leo
LEO DIDN’T WANT TO COME OUT OF THE WALL.
He had three more braces to attach, and nobody else was skinny enough to fit in the crawl space.
(One of the many advantages of being scrawny.)
Wedged between the layers of the hull with the plumbing and wiring, Leo could be alone with his
thoughts. When he got frustrated, which happened about every five seconds, he could hit stuff with his
mallet and the other crew members would figure he was working, not throwing a tantrum.
One problem with his sanctuary: he only fitted up to his waist. His butt and legs were still on view
to the general public, which made it hard for him to hide.
‘Leo!’ Piper’s voice came from somewhere behind him. ‘We need you.’
The Celestial bronze O-ring slipped out of Leo’s pliers and slid into the depths of the crawl space.
Leo sighed. ‘Talk to the pants, Piper! ’Cause the hands are busy!’
‘I am not talking to the pants. Meeting in the mess hall. We’re almost at Olympia.’
‘Yeah, fine. I’ll be there in a sec.’
‘What are you doing, anyway? You’ve been poking around inside the hull for days.’
Leo swept his flashlight across the Celestial bronze plates and pistons he’d been installing slowly
but surely. ‘Routine maintenance.’
Silence. Piper was a little too good at knowing when he was lying. ‘Leo –’
‘Hey, while you’re out there, do me a favour. I got this itch right below my –’
‘Fine, I’m leaving!’
Leo allowed himself a couple more minutes to fasten the brace. His work wasn’t done. Not by a
long shot. But he was making progress.
Of course, he’d laid the groundwork for his secret project when he first built the Argo II, but he
hadn’t told anyone about it. He had barely been honest with himself about what he was doing.
Nothing lasts forever, his dad once told him. Not even the best machines.
Yeah, okay, maybe that was true. But Hephaestus had also said, Everything can be reused. Leo
intended to test that theory.
It was a dangerous risk. If he failed, it would crush him. Not just emotionally. It would physically
crush him.
The thought made him claustrophobic.
He wriggled out of the crawl space and went back into his cabin.
Well … technically it was his cabin, but he didn’t sleep there. The mattress was littered with
wires, nails and the guts of several disassembled bronze machines. His three massive rolling tool