The Blood of Olympus (The Heroes of Olympus, #5)(28)

Nobody stepped forward to talk. Leo kind of missed having Piper and Annabeth with them. They were good at the whole talking thing.

He decided somebody had better say something before they all died in glory.

‘So!’ He pointed his index fingers at Nike. ‘I didn’t get the briefing, and I’m pretty sure the information wasn’t covered in Frank’s pamphlet. Could you tell me what’s going on here?’

Nike’s wide-eyed stare unnerved him. Was Leo’s nose on fire? That happened sometimes when he got stressed.

‘We must have victory!’ the goddess shrieked. ‘The contest must be decided! You have come here to determine the winner, yes?’

Frank cleared his throat. ‘Are you Nike or Victoria?’

‘Argghh!’ The goddess clutched the side of her head. Her horses reared, causing Arion to do the same.

The goddess shuddered and split into two separate images, which reminded Leo – ridiculously – of when he used to lie on the floor in his apartment as a kid and play with the coiled doorstop on the skirting board. He would pull it back and let it fly: sproing! The stopper would shudder back and forth so fast it looked like it was splitting into two separate coils.

That’s what Nike looked like: a divine doorstop, splitting in two.

On the left was the first version: glittery sleeveless dress, dark hair circled with laurels, golden wings folded behind her. On the right was a different version, dressed for war in a Roman breastplate and greaves. Short auburn hair peeked out from the rim of a tall helmet. Her wings were feathery white, her dress purple, and the shaft of her spear was fixed with a plate-sized Roman insignia – a golden SPQR in a laurel wreath.

‘I am Nike!’ cried the image on the left.

‘I am Victoria!’ cried the one on the right.

For the first time, Leo understood the old saying his abuelo used to use: talking out of the side of your mouth. This goddess was literally saying two different things at once. She kept shuddering and splitting, making Leo dizzy. He was tempted to get out his tools and adjust the idle on her carburettor, because that much vibration would make her engine fly apart.

‘I am the decider of victory!’ Nike screamed. ‘Once I stood here at the corner of Zeus’s temple, venerated by all! I oversaw the games of Olympia. Offerings from every city-state were piled at my feet!’

‘Games are irrelevant!’ yelled Victoria. ‘I am the goddess of success in battle! Roman generals worshipped me! Augustus himself erected my altar in the Senate House!’

‘Ahhhh!’ both voices screamed in agony. ‘We must decide! We must have victory!’

Arion bucked so violently that Hazel had to slide off his back to avoid getting thrown. Before she could calm him down, the horse disappeared, leaving a vapour trail through the ruins.

‘Nike,’ Hazel said, stepping forward slowly, ‘you’re confused, like all the gods. The Greeks and Romans are on the verge of war. It’s causing your two aspects to clash.’

‘I know that!’ The goddess shook her spear, the tip rubber-banding into two points. ‘I cannot abide unresolved conflict! Who is stronger? Who is the winner?’

‘Lady, nobody’s the winner,’ Leo said. ‘If that war happens, everybody loses.’

‘No winner?’ Nike looked so shocked, Leo was pretty sure his nose must be on fire. ‘There is always a winner! One winner. Everyone else is a loser! Otherwise victory is meaningless. I suppose you want me to give certificates to all the contestants? Little plastic trophies to every single athlete or soldier for participation? Should we all line up and shake hands and tell each other, Good game? No! Victory must be real. It must be earned. That means it must be rare and difficult, against steep odds, and defeat must be the other possibility.’

The goddess’s two horses nipped at each other, as if getting into the spirit.

‘Uh … okay,’ Leo said. ‘I can tell you’ve got strong feelings about that. But the real war is against Gaia.’

‘He’s right,’ Hazel said. ‘Nike, you were Zeus’s charioteer in the last war with the giants, weren’t you?’

‘Of course!’

‘Then you know Gaia is the real enemy. We need your help to defeat her. The war isn’t between the Greeks and Romans.’

Victoria roared, ‘The Greeks must perish!’

‘Victory or death!’ Nike wailed. ‘One side must prevail!’

Frank grunted. ‘I get enough of this from my dad screaming in my head.’

Victoria glared down at him. ‘A child of Mars, are you? A praetor of Rome? No true Roman would spare the Greeks. I cannot abide to be split and confused – I cannot think straight! Kill them! Win!’

‘Not happening,’ Frank said, though Leo noticed Zhang’s right eye was twitching.

Leo was struggling, too. Nike was sending off waves of tension, setting his nerves on fire. He felt like he was crouched at the starting line, waiting for someone to yell ‘Go!’ He had the irrational desire to wrap his hands around Frank’s neck, which was stupid, since his hands wouldn’t even fit around Frank’s neck.

‘Look, Miss Victory …’ Percy tried for a smile. ‘We don’t want to interrupt your crazy time. Maybe you can just finish this conversation with yourself and we’ll come back later, with, um, some bigger weapons and possibly some sedatives.’