The Blood of Olympus - Jules-Albert

“My dad gave me a present once,” Nico said. “It was a zombie.”

Reyna stared at him. “What?”

“His name is Jules-Albert. He’s French.”

“A...French zombie?”

“Hades isn’t the greatest dad, but occasionally he has these want-to-know-my-son moments. I guess he thought the zombie was a peace offering. He said Jules-Albert could be my chauffeur.”

The corner of Reyna’s mouth twitched. “A French zombie chauffeur.”

Nico realized how ridiculous it sounded. He’d never told anyone about Jules-Albert—not even Hazel. But he kept talking.

“Hades had this idea that I should, you know, try to act like a modern teenager. Make friends. Get to know the twenty-first century. He vaguely understood that mortal parents drive their kids around a lot. He couldn’t do that. So his solution was a zombie.”

“To take you to the mall,” Reyna said. “Or the drive-through at In-N-Out Burger.”

“I suppose.” Nico’s nerves began to settle. “Because nothing helps you make friends faster than a rotting corpse with a French accent.”

Reyna laughed. “I’m sorry...I shouldn’t make fun.”

“It’s okay. Point is...I don’t like talking about my dad either. But sometimes,” he said, looking her in the eyes, “you have to.”

Reyna’s expression turned serious. “I never knew my father in his better days. Hylla said he used to be gentler when she was very small, before I was born. He was a good soldier—fearless, disciplined, cool under fire. He was handsome. He could be very charming. Bellona blessed him, as she had with so many of my ancestors, but that wasn’t enough for my dad. He wanted her for his wife.”

Over in the woods, Coach Hedge muttered to himself as he wrote. Three paper airplanes were already spiraling upward in the breeze, heading to gods knew where.


- The Blood of Olympus, Chapter 29