²Olden Crown, heroes of olympus

002.

OLDEN CROWN
━━ chapter two

━━ COMPARED TO NEPTUNE'S tool shed, Jupiter's temple was definitely optimus and maximus. The marble floor was etched with fancy mosaics and Latin inscriptions. Sixty feet above, the domed ceiling sparkled gold. The whole temple was open to the wind. In the center stood a marble altar, where Octavian was doing some sort of ritual in front of a massive golden statue of Jupiter himself: the God of the Sky was dressed in a silk, purple toga, holding a lightning bolt.

"It doesn't look like that," Percy murmured suddenly.

Abilene frowned at him. "What?"

"The master bolt."

"What are you talking about?"

"I—" Percy frowned. For a second, he looked as though he would answer, then—He shook his head. "Nothing, I guess."

Octavian raised his hands and more red lightning flashed in the sky, shaking the temple. Then he put his hands down, and the rumbling stopped. The clouds turned from grey to white and broke apart. A pretty impressive trick, considering the kid didn't look like much; he was tall and skinny, with straw-colored hair, oversized jeans, a baggy T-shirt, and a drooping toga. He looked like a scarecrow wearing a bed sheet.

"What's he doing?" Percy murmured to Abilene.

Octavian turned, giving the newcomers a crooked smile, crazed smile. In one hand he held a knife. In the other hand was a ripped-apart, stuffed animal.

"Percy, this is—" Abilene pursed her lips, "Octavian."

"The graecus!" Octavian announced. "How interesting."

"Uh, hi," Percy said. He eyed the stuffed animal in the blond's hand. "Are you killing small animals?"

Octavian looked at the stuffed teddy bear in his hand and laughed. "No, no. Once upon a time, yes. We used to read the will of the gods by examining animal guts—chickens, goats, that sort of thing. Nowadays, we use these." He tossed the stuffed animal to Percy, who caught it with a guffaw.

Percy examined the disemboweled teddy bear, then slowly looked over to the pile of mutilated stuffed animals at the foot of Jupiter's statue. "Seriously?" He raised his eyebrows at Octavian, shaking the teddy bear as stuffing fell out in clumps.

Octavian stepped off the dais. He was only eighteen, but so skinny and sickly pale, he could've passed for younger. At first, he looked harmless, but Abilene knew better after three years. Octavian's eyes glittered with harsh curiosity, like he might gut any of them just as easily as a teddy bear if he thought he could learn something from it.

Octavian narrowed his eyes on Percy. "You seem nervous."

"You remind me of someone," Percy admitted, eyebrows knitting together. "I can't remember who."

"Possibly my namesake, Octavian—Augustus Caesar. Everyone says I bear a remarkable resemblance."

Silently, Abilene made a dubious face. But Octavian noticed—he sent her an irritated look.

Percy was still watching Octavian despite Abilene's attitude. "Why did you call me 'the Greek'?"

"I saw it in the auguries." Octavian waved his knife at the pile of stuffing on the altar. "The message said: The Greek has arrived. Or possibly: The goose has cried. I'm thinking the first interpretation is correct. You seek to join the legion?"