The Battle of the Labyrinth - Summon Soldiers

A dozen dracaenae suddenly broke away from the main fight and slithered down the path that led toward camp, like they knew where they were going. If they got out, they could burn down the entire place, completely unopposed.

The only person anywhere near was Nico di Angelo. He stabbed a telekhine, and his black Stygian blade absorbed the monster’s essence, drinking its energy until there was nothing left but dust.

“Nico!” I yelled.

He looked where I was pointing, saw the serpent women, and immediately understood.

He took a deep breath and held out his black sword. “Serve me,” he called.

The earth trembled. A fissure opened in front of the dracaenae, and a dozen undead warriors crawled from the earth—horrible corpses in military uniforms from all different time periods—U.S. Revolutionaries, Roman centurions, Napoleonic cavalry on skeletal horses. As one, they drew their swords and engaged the dracaenea. Nico crumpled to his knees, but I didn’t have time to make sure he was okay.

[...]

Grover blushed. “I don’t know where it came from.”

Juniper hugged him fiercely. “I do!”

Before she could say more, Tyson called, “Percy, come quick! It is Nico!”

There was smoke curling off his black clothes. His fingers were clenched, and the grass all around his body had turned yellow and died.

I rolled him over as gently as I could and put my hand against his chest. His heart was beating faintly. “Get some nectar!” I yelled.

One of the Ares campers hobbled over and handed me a canteen. I trickled some of the magic drink into Nico’s mouth. He coughed and spluttered, but his eyelids fluttered open.

“Nico, what happened?” I asked. “Can you talk?”

He nodded weakly. “Never tried to summon so many before. I—I’ll be fine.”

We helped him sit up and gave him some more nectar.

He blinked at all of us, like he was trying to remember who we were, and then he focused on someone behind me.

“Daedalus,” he croaked.

“Yes, my boy,” the inventor said. “I made a very bad mistake. I came to correct it.”

Daedalus had a few scratches that were bleeding golden oil, but he looked better than most of us. Apparently his automaton body healed itself quickly. Mrs. O’Leary loomed behind him, licking the wounds on his master’s head so Daedalus’s hair stood up funny. Briares stood next to him, surrounded by a group of awed campers and satyrs. He looked kind of bashful, but he was signing autographs on armor, shields, and T-shirts.


- The Battle of the Labyrinth, Chapter 18