The Blood of Olympus - Diocletian Sync

On the horizon, Mount Vesuvius loomed—a dark, humpbacked shape now several miles away. Thick pillars of steam curled from the crest.

“We’re in Pompeii,” Reyna realized.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Nico said, and immediately collapsed.

“Whoa!” Coach Hedge caught him before he hit the ground. The satyr propped him against Athena’s feet and loosened the harness that attached Nico to the statue.

Reyna’s own knees buckled. She’d expected some backlash; it happened every time she shared her strength. But she hadn’t anticipated so much raw anguish from Nico di Angelo. She sat down heavily, just managing to stay conscious.

Gods of Rome. If this was only a portion of Nico’s pain...how could he bear it?

She tried to steady her breathing while Coach Hedge rummaged through his camping supplies. Around Nico’s boots, the stones cracked. Dark seams radiated outward like a shotgun blast of ink, as if Nico’s body were trying to expel all the shadows he’d traveled through.

Yesterday had been worse: an entire meadow withering, skeletons rising from the earth. Reyna wasn’t anxious for that to happen again.

“Drink something.” She offered him a canteen of unicorn draught—powdered horn mixed with sanctified water from the Little Tiber. They’d found it worked on Nico better than nectar, helping to cleanse the fatigue and darkness from his system with less danger of spontaneous combustion.

Nico gulped it down. He still looked terrible. His skin had a bluish tint. His cheeks were sunken. Hanging at his side, the scepter of Diocletian glowed angry purple, like a radioactive bruise.

He studied Reyna. “How did you do that...that surge of energy?”

Reyna turned her forearm. The tattoo still burned like hot wax: the symbol of Bellona, SPQR, with four lines for her years of service. “I don’t like to talk about it,” she said, “but it’s a power from my mother. I can impart strength to others.”


- The Blood of Olympus, Chapter 5