The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus, Book Three) by Rick Riordan Read Free Book Online

scarier than the bronze dragon figurehead on the Argo II . It had rough gray skin like a Komodo lizard’s and leathery bat wings. Arrows and rocks bounced harmlessly off its hide as it lumbered toward Piper and Jason, grabbed them with its front claws, and vaulted into the air.
    “Is that… ?” Annabeth couldn’t even put the thought into words.
    “Frank,” Percy confirmed, a few feet above her. “He has a few special talents.”
    “Understatement,” Annabeth muttered. “Keep climbing!”
    Without the dragon and Hazel’s horse to distract the archers, they never would have made it up the ladder; but finally they climbed past a row of broken aerial oars and onto the deck. The rigging was on fire. The foresail was ripped down the middle, and the ship listed badly to starboard.
    There was no sign of Coach Hedge, but Leo stood amidships, calmly reloading the ballista. Annabeth’s gut twisted with horror.
    “Leo!” she screamed. “What are you doing ?”
    “Destroy them…” He faced Annabeth. His eyes were glazed. His movements were like a robot’s. “Destroy them all.”
    He turned back to the ballista, but Percy tackled him. Leo’s head hit the deck hard, and his eyes rolled up so that only the whites showed.
    The gray dragon soared into view. It circled the ship once and landed at the bow, depositing Jason and Piper, who both collapsed.
    “Go!” Percy yelled. “Get us out of here!”
    With a shock, Annabeth realized he was talking to her.
    She ran for the helm. She made the mistake of glancing over the rail and saw armed legionnaires closing ranks in the forum, preparing flaming arrows. Hazel spurred Arion, and they raced out of the city with a mob chasing after them. More catapults were being wheeled into range. All along the Pomerian Line, the statues of Terminus were glowing purple, as if building up energy for some kind of attack.
    Annabeth looked over the controls. She cursed Leo for making them so complicated. No time for fancy maneuvers, but she did know one basic command: Up.
    She grabbed the aviation throttle and yanked it straight back. The ship groaned. The bow tilted up at a horrifying angle. The mooring lines snapped, and the Argo II shot into the clouds.

Leo wished he could invent a time machine. He’d go back two hours and undo what had happened. Either that, or he could invent a Slap-Leo-in-the-Face machine to punish himself, though he doubted it would hurt as badly as the look Annabeth was giving him.
    “One more time,” she said. “Exactly what happened?”
    Leo slumped against the mast. His head still throbbed from hitting the deck. All around him, his beautiful new ship was in shambles. The aft crossbows were piles of kindling. The foresail was tattered. The satellite array that powered the onboard Internet and TV was blown to bits, which had really made Coach Hedge mad. Their bronze dragon figurehead, Festus, was coughing up smoke like he had a hairball, and Leo could tell from the groaning sounds on the port side that some of the aerial oars had been knocked out of alignment or broken off completely, which explained why the ship was listing and shuddering as it flew, the engine wheezing like an asthmatic steam train.
    He choked back a sob. “I don’t know. It’s fuzzy.”
    Too many people were looking at him: Annabeth (Leo hated to make her angry; that girl scared him), Coach Hedge with his furry goat legs, his orange polo shirt, and his baseball bat (did he have to carry that everywhere?), and the newcomer, Frank.
    Leo wasn’t sure what to make of Frank. He looked like a baby sumo wrestler, though Leo wasn’t stupid enough to say that aloud. Leo’s memory was hazy, but while he’d been half conscious, he was pretty sure he’d seen a dragon land on the ship—a dragon that had turned into Frank.
    Annabeth crossed her arms. “You mean you don’t remember?”
    “I…” Leo felt like he was trying to swallow a marble. “I remember, but it’s like I was watching