The storm rumbled, and Jason’s head began to hurt again. Not knowing why he did it, he reached into his jeans pocket and brought out a coin—a circle of gold the size of a half-dollar, but thicker and more uneven. Stamped on one side was a picture of a battle-ax. On the other was some guy’s face wreathed in laurels. The inscription said something like ivlivs.

“Dang, is that gold?” Leo asked. “You been holding out on me!”

Jason put the coin away, wondering how he’d come to have it, and why he had the feeling he was going to need it soon.

The Lost Hero, Chapter I