CHAPTER  EIGHT
FINLEY    BRIGGS

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After that, the battle was mayhem.

Finn, Percy, Frank, and Hazel waded through the enemy, plowing down anyone who stood in their way. The First and Second cohorts—pride of Camp Jupiter, a well-oiled, highly disciplined war machine—fell apart under the assault and the sheer novelty of being on the losing side.

Part of their problem was Percy. While they were used to Finn's insane style, they weren't used to the new boy who fought like a demon. He whirled through the defenders' ranks in a completely unorthodox way, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his bade, and generally causing mass panic. Finn was having the time of her life because of him—she thrived in madness.

Octavian couldn't say the same for himself: He screamed in a shrill voice—maybe ordering the First Cohort to stand their ground, maybe trying to sing soprano—but Percy put a stop to it. He somersaulted over a line of shields and slammed the butt of his sword into Octavian's helmet. The centurion collapsed like a sock puppet.

"You have to teach me how to do that!" Finn laughed maniacally, her eyes gleaming.

She wasn't doing that bad with her own skills, though. Finn—like previously stated—was a fan of being a menace. Fighting insanely was the closest she could get to actually going insane, and that was a facet of herself she always tried to repress. But now she was drunk and in her element and dominant even though she was reduced to fighting with a gladius. Finn jabbed the enemy defenders with her weapon, then whirled and did the same to even more. They either dodged fiercely at her strikes, or backed away at the purple flame festering in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Frank shot arrows until his quiver was empty. He used blunt-tipped missiles that wouldn't kill but left some nasty bruises. He broke his pilum over a defender's head, then drew his gladius like Finn. Hazel climbed onto Hannibal's back. She charged toward the center of the fort, grinning down at her friends. "Let's go, slowpokes!"

"See, now you guys are so fun!" Finn whooped.

They ran to the center of the base. The inner keep was virtually unguarded. Obviously the defenders never dreamed an assault would get this far. Hannibal busted down the huge doors. Inside, the First and Second Cohort standard-bearers were sitting around a table playing Mythomagic with cards and figurines. The cohort's emblems were propped carelessly against one wall.

Hazel and Hannibal rose straight into the room, and the standard-bearers fell backward out of their chairs. Hannibal stepped on the table, and game pieces scattered.

By the time the rest of the cohort caught up with them, Finn, Percy, and Frank had disarmed the enemies, grabbed the banners, and climbed onto Hannibal's back with Hazel. They marched out of the keep triumphantly with the enemy colors.

The Fifth Cohort formed ranks around them. Together they paraded out of the fort, past stunned enemies and lines of equally mystified allies.

Reyna circled low overhead on her pegasus. "The game is won!" She sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. "Assemble for honors!"

Finn couldn't believe it. She really couldn't. A part of her was convincing herself she was absolutely wasted—despite knowing she wasn't—because she couldn't believe it. Finn had been in the Fifth Cohort for nine years, and there was only one other significant time where they actually won war games.

Didn't think you had it in you. Congrats, Wonderboy.

(A soft smile. A raised eyebrow.)

Wonderboy?

(A sheepish shrug. A friendly nudge.)

Well, you were kind of a wonder out there.

(A grin turned smug. A crossing of arms.)

Oh, was I?

(A fond roll of the eyes. A glance away.)

Don't push it.

(A glimmer of hope. An obliviousness of the future to come.)

Slowly the campers regrouped on the Field of Mars. Finn saw plenty of minor injuries—some burns, broken bones, black eyes, cuts and gashes, a bullet to the foot (wonder how that got there?), plus a lot of very interesting hairdos from fires and exploding water cannons—but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

Finn slid off the elephant, stumbling over on the impact. She only got trampled further as their comrades swarmed Frank for his leadership, pounding him on the back and complimenting him. Finn was proud of him too, until she got stuck on the ground like this. That disgruntled feeling only got worse when she saw Gwen.

"Help!" someone yelled. A couple campers rushed out of the fortress, carrying a girl on a stretcher. They set her down, and other kids started running over.

Finn could tell it was Gwen. She was in bad shape. She lay on her side on the stretcher with a pilum sticking out of her armor—like she was holding it between her chest and her arm, but there was too much blood.

Dakota shook his head, having to be held back by his other cohort members before he did something he'd regret. Finn heard him mutter, "No, no, no," and grapevines were swirling up from the ground beneath him—a divine ability from their father that Finn never received.

Since Dakota couldn't, Finn got up and ran to Gwen's side.

The medics barked at everyone to stand back and give her air. The whole legion fell silent as the healers worked—trying to get gauze and powdered unicorn horn under Gwen's armor to stop the bleeding, trying to force some nectar into her mouth. Gwen didn't move. Her face was ashen gray.

Finally one of the medics looked up at Reyna and shook his head.

For a moment, there was no sound except Dakota sobbing and water from the ruined cannons trickling down the walls of the fort. Hannibal nuzzled Gwen's hair with his trunk.

Reyna surveyed the campers from her pegasus. Her expression was as hard and dark as iron. "There will be an investigation. Whoever did this, you cost the legion a good officer. Honorable death is one thing, but this..."

Finn wasn't sure what Reyna meant. Then she noticed the marks engraved in the wooden shaft of the pilum: CHT I LEGIO XII F. The weapon belonged to the First Cohort, and the point was sticking out the front of her armor. Gwen had been speared from behind—possibly after the game had ended.

Finn scanned the crowd for Octavian. The centurion was watching with more interest than concern, as if he were examining one of his stupid gutted teddy bears. He didn't have a pilum.

Blood roared in Finn's ears. She wanted to strangle Octavian with her bare hands, but at that moment, Gwen gasped.

Everyone stepped back. Gwen opened her eyes. The color came back to her face.

"Wh-What is it?" She blinked. "What's everyone staring at?"

She didn't seem to notice the seven-foot harpoon sticking out through her chest.

Behind Finn, a medic whispered, "There's no way. She was dead. She has to be dead."

Further back, Dakota hoped, "Gwen?"

Gwen tried to sit up, but couldn't. "There was a river, and a man asking... for a coin? I turned around and the exit door was open. So I just... I just left. I don't understand. What's happened?"

Everyone stared at her in horror. Nobody tried to help.

"Gwen." Dakota shoved away those holding him back and kneeled next to her. He brushed back the hair in her face. "Don't try to get up. Just close your eyes for a second, okay?"

"Why? What—"

"Just trust me."

Gwen did what he asked.

Dakota grabbed the shaft of the pilum below its tip, but his hands were shaking. The wood was slick. "Finley, please. Guys. Anyone. Help me."

Finn swallowed thickly. No one ever asked for her help, and her big brother sounded so desperate that Finn's heart almost cracked in two. She felt an emotion so deep that she couldn't stand it—wanted to drink until there was no tomorrow and forget this moment ever existed.

Right as she stepped closer, one of the medics realized what Dakota was planning. "Don't!" he said. "You might—"

"What?" Finn snapped. "Make it worse?"

Dakota took a deep breath. Finn, Percy, Frank, and Hazel moved over to assist him. "Hold her steady," their centurion ordered. "One, two, three!"

He pulled the pilum out from the front. Gwen didn't even wince. The blood stopped quickly.

Hazel bent down to examine the wound. "It's closing on its own," she said. "I don't know how, but—"

"I feel fine," Gwen protested. She seemed to care more about Dakota absentmindedly squeezing her hand than anything. "What's everyone worried about?"

With Dakota and Percy's help, she got to her feet. Finn glowered at Octavian, but the centurion's face was a mask of polite concern.

Later, Finn thought. Deal with him later.

Show him what real madness looks like, another thought of hers said.

Finn really needed to drink.

"Gwen," Frank said gently, "there's no easy way to say this. You were dead. Somehow you came back."

"I... what?" She stumbled against Dakota. Her hand pressed against the ragged hole in her armor. "How—how?"

"Good question." Reyna turned to Nico, who was watching grimly from the edge of the crowd. "Is this some power of Pluto?"

Nico shook his head. "Pluto never lets people return from the dead."

Finn could only wish Pluto did. She wouldn't even have to be here if that was the case.

Suddenly a thunderous voice rolled across the field: Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning.

Campers drew their weapons. Hannibal trumpeted nervously. Scipio reared, almost throwing Reyna.

"I know that voice," Percy said. He didn't sound pleased.

In the midst of the legion, a column of fire blasted into the air. Heat seared Finn's eyelashes. Campers who had been soaked by the cannons found their clothes instantly steam-dried. Everyone scrambled backwards as a huge soldier stepped out of the explosion.

The soldier was ten feet tall, dressed in Canadian Forces desert camouflage. He radiated confidence and power. His black hair was cut in a flat-topped wedge like Frank's. His face was angular and brutal, marked with old knife scars. His eyes were covered with infrared goggles that glowed from inside. He wore a utility belt with a sidearm, a knife holster, and several grenades. In his hands was an oversized M16 rifle.

Mars Ultor.

Finn's eyes were more drawn to the gun than the godly personification of war. It was—Well, it was the most awesome weapon she'd ever seen. She couldn't even focus on everyone stepping back, or Frank stepping forward. She just internally wondered if Mars would notice Finn ripping the M16 from his hands.

After taking three more steps forward, Frank sank to one knee.

The other campers followed his example and kneeled. Even Reyna dismounted. Finn didn't move—too distracted by her awe of the gun—so Hazel yanked on Finn's arm to bring her down as well. 

"It's just—" her eyes shined in ecstasy. "It's just so cool."

"That's good," Mars said, not having heard Finn's whispered words. "Kneeling is good. It's been a long time since I've visited Camp Jupiter."

Finn forced her eyes away from the M16. She noticed that one person wasn't kneeling. Percy Jackson, his sword still in hand, was glaring at the giant soldier.

"You're Ares," Percy said. "What do you want?"

A collective gasp went up from one hundred ninety-nine campers and an elephant. One amused snort came from Finn. If Percy had just offended Mars, then he would go down a legend with those last words—and she would get to see the war god blast someone to bits with that extra-large M16.

Unfortunately, the god only bared his brilliant white teeth.

"You've got spunk, demigod," he said. "Ares is my Greek form. But to these followers, to the children of Rome, I am Mars—patron of the empire, divine father of Romulus and Remus."

"We've met," Percy said. "We... We had a fight..."

The god scratched his chin, as if trying to recall. "I fight a lot of people. But I assure you—you've never fought me as Mars. If you had, you'd be dead. Now, kneel, as befits a chid of Rome, before you try my patience."

Around Mars's feet, the ground boiled in a circle of flame.

"Percy," Frank said, "please."

Percy clearly didn't like it, but he kneeled.

Mars scanned the crowd. "Romans, lend me your ears!" He laughed—a good, hearty bellow, so infectious it almost made Finn smile. "I've always wanted to say that. I come from Olympus with a message. Jupiter doesn't like us communicating directly with mortals, especially nowadays, but he has allowed this exception, as you Romans have always been my special people. I'm only permitted to speak for a few minutes, so listen up."

He pointed at Gwen.

"This one should be dead, yet she's not. The monsters you fight no longer return to Tartarus when they are slain. Some mortals who died long ago are now walking the earth again."

Was it Finn's drunken imagination, or did the god glare at Nico di Angelo?

"Thanatos has been chained," Mars announced. "The Doors of Death have been forced open, and no one is policing them—at least, not impartially. Gaea allows our enemies to pour forth into the world of mortals. Her sons the giants are mustering armies against you—armies that you will not be able to kill. Unless Death is unleashed to return to his furies, you will be overrun. You must find Thanatos and free him from the giants. Only he can reverse the tide."

Mars looked around, and noticed that everyone was still silently kneeling.

"Oh, you can get up now. Any questions?"

Reyna rose uneasily. She approached the god, followed by Octavian, who was bowing and scraping like a champion groveler. Finn couldn't move like them. Her stomach felt so empty, yet she had the rising urge to retch all over the field. She couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the mention of Mother Earth.

"Lord Mars," Reyna said, "we are honored."

"Beyond honored," said Octavian. "So far beyond honored—"

"Well?" Mars snapped.

"Well," Reyna said, "Thanatos is the god of death, the lieutenant of Pluto?"

"Right," the god said.

"And you're saying that he's been captured by giants."

"Right."

"And therefore people will stop dying?"

"Not all at once," Mars said. "But the barriers between life and death will continue to weaken. Those who know how to take advantage of this will exploit it. Monsters are already harder to dispatch. Soon they will be completely impossible to kill. Some demigods will also be able to find their way back from the Underworld—like your friend Centurion Shish kebab."

Gwen winced. "Centurion Shish kebab?"

"If left unchecked," Mars continued, "even mortals will eventually find it impossible to die. Can you imagine a world in which no one died—ever?"

Octavian raised his hand. "But, ah, mighty all-powerful Lord Mars, if we can't die, isn't that a good thing? If we can stay alive indefinitely—"

"Don't be foolish, boy!" Mars bellowed. "Endless slaughter with no conclusion? Carnage without any point? Enemies that rise again and again and can never be killed? Is that what you want?"

"You're the god of war," Percy spoke up. "Don't you want endless carnage?"

Mars's infrared goggles glowed brighter. "Insolent, aren't you? Perhaps I have fought you before. I can understand why I'd want to kill you. I'm the god of Rome, child. I am the god of military might used for a righteous cause. I protect the legions. I am happy to crush my enemies underfoot, but I don't fight without reason. I don't want war without end. You will discover this. You will serve me."

"Not likely," Percy said.

Again, Finn waited in anticipation for the god to strike him down, but Mars just grinned like they were two old buddies talking trash. Boring.

"I order a quest!" the god announced. "You will go north and find Thanatos in the land beyond the gods. You will free him and thwart the plans of the giants. Beware Gaea! Beware her son, the eldest giant!"

"Gaea?" Finn's voice trembled.

"The land beyond the gods?" Hazel made a squeaking sound.

Mars stared down at them. His grip tightened on his M16, and it suddenly didn't seem so cool. "That's right, Finley Briggs and Hazel Levesque. You know what I mean. Everyone knows that Gaea is threatening to rise, and everyone here remembers the land where the legion lost its honor! Perhaps if the quest succeeds, and you return by the Feast of Fortuna... perhaps then your honor will be restored. If you don't succeed, there won't be any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy lost forever. So my advice is: Don't fail."

Finn and Hazel shared looks. They didn't understand each other's fear, but somehow, they didn't question it. There was a mutual acceptance here. It only fueled Finn's instability though, and now she yearned for the moment where Mars disappeared altogether.

"Um, Lord Mars," Octavian somehow managed to bow even lower, "just one tiny thing. A quest requires a prophecy, a mystical poem to guide us! We used to get them from the Sibylline books, but now it's up to the augur to glean the will of the gods. So if I could just run and get about seventy stuffed animals and possibly a knife—"

"You're the augur?" the god interrupted.

"Y-Yes, my lord."

Mars pulled a scroll from his utility belt. "Anyone got a pen?"

The legionnaires stared at him.

Mars sighed. "Two hundred Romans, and no one's got a pen? Never mind!"

He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write.

Finn looked at Percy with amused eyes. She mouthed: Can your sword do grenade form?

Percy mouthed back, No. Shut up.

"There!" Mars finished writing and threw the scroll at Octavian. "A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it onto your floor, whatever."

Octavian read the scroll: "This says, 'Go to Alaska. Find Thanatos and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die.'"

"Yes," said Mars said. "Is that not clear?"

"Well, my lord... usually prophecies are unclear. They're wrapped in riddles. They rhyme, and..."

Mars casually popped another grenade off his belt. "Yes?"

"The prophecy is clear!" Octavian announced. "A quest!"

"Good answer." Mars tapped the grenade to his chin. "Now, what else? There was something else... Oh, yes."

He turned to Frank.

"C'mere, kid."

Finn's eyebrows rose to her hairline at the implications. Frank seemed to get the notion too—his legs shook so hard that his large frame almost wobbled to the floor. Against his will, he stepped forward.

Mars grinned. "Nice job taking the wall, kid. Who's the ref for this game?"

Reyna raised her hand.

"You see that play, ref?" Mars demanded. "That was my kid. First over the wall, won the game for his team. Unless you're blind, that was an MVP play. You're not blind, are you?"

Reyna looked like she was trying to swallow a mouse. "No, Lord Mars."

"Then make sure he gets the Mural Crown," Mars demanded. "My kid, here!" he yelled at the legion, in case anyone hadn't heard. Frank looked like he wanted to melt into the dirt.

Finn almost felt bad.

"Emily Zhang's son," Mars continued. "She was a good soldier. Good woman. This kid Frank proved his stuff tonight. Happy late birthday, kid. Time you stepped up to a real man's weapon."

He tossed Frank his M16, and Finn was instantly jealous. But then the gun changed in midair, becoming smaller and thinner. When Frank caught it, the weapon was a spear. It had a shaft of Imperial gold and a strange point like a white bone, flickering with ghostly light.

"The tip is a dragon's tooth," Mars said. "You haven't learned to use your mom's talents yet, have you? Well—that spear will give you some breathing room until you do. You get three charges out of it, so use it wisely."

Finn didn't understand, but she wasn't going to try to. Even if she did, Mars acted like the matter was closed.

"Now, my kid Frank Zhang is gonna lead the quest to free Thanatos, unless there are any objections?"

Of course, no one said a word. But many of the campers glared at Frank with envy, jealousy, anger, bitterness. Finn tried to send her most comforting look for this very reason, but the issue here was that she wasn't a very comforting person.

"You can take three companions," Mars said.

Octavian gaped, eyes a series of slow and rapid blinks. "But—lord Mars," now he was bowing so low his nose was near his knees, "that's... Quests consist of three members. Not four. It's in the ancient laws."

Mars's glare hardened, if that was even possible.

"And who do you think wrote those laws?" the god asked. "I said he can take three, so my son will take three. Do you wish to question me a sixth time, augur?"

"No!" Octavian squeaked instantly, shaking his head. He reminded Finn of an albino ferret. "No, not at all, I—I apologize, my lord, I didn't mean to—"

"Yeah, shut up," Mars rolled his eyes. He faced Frank again now that Octavian was quiet. "Like I said, you can take three companions. Those are the rules. One of them needs to be this kid."

He pointed at Percy.

"He's gonna learn some respect for Mars on this trip, or die trying. As for the second and third, I don't care. Pick whomever you want. Have one of your senate debates. You all are good at those."

The god's image flickered. Lightning crackled across the sky.

"That's my cue," Mars said. "Until next time, Romans. Do not disappoint me!"

The god erupted in flames, and then he was gone.

Reyna turned toward Frank. Her expression was part amazement, part nausea, like she'd finally managed to swallow that mouse. She raised her arm in a Roman salute. "Ave, Frank Zhang, son of Mars."

The whole legion followed her lead, even though Frank didn't look very happy to recieve the attention.

Finn could at least understand why. You try finding our your father was Mars, and he was sending you to Alaska, being given nothing but a spear and a death sentence for a late birthday present.

Ave, indeed.

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BAILEY YAPS...

Gwakota nation and it's just population: me

Look idk how this ship came about but it snuck up on me and there's nothing I can do about it. Ask the higherups. The Gwakota superior (me) has spoken.

Is this chapter me canon-confirming Jinley as Hercules and Meg variants? Bello

Finley is allergic to lore dumps and it's very funny to me