The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(46)

Claymore’s eyes widened. He looked at the man, who seemed completely oblivious to their conversation. “Created? With magic, you mean?”

Alabaster nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a blank note card. He placed it on the table and tapped it twice.

The man, the Mistform, disintegrated right in front of Claymore’s eyes, melting into vapor as he was sucked into the card. Once the Mistform was gone, Alabaster picked up the card, and Claymore could see that there was now a crude green outline of a man imprinted on it.

“There, that’s better.” Alabaster managed a smile. “He gets annoying after a while. I know this must be a lot to take in for a mortal.”

“I’ll manage,” Claymore said, dismissing him. “I’m more interested in learning about Lamia, particularly a way to kill her.”

Alabaster sighed. “I told you already, I don’t know. That’s why I asked for your help. Do you remember what I asked you in the parking lot?”

“What would happen if someone found a way to stop death?” Claymore repeated. “Why is that important? Does it have something to do with Lamia’s regeneration?”

“No, all monsters do that. There are only two ways to kill a monster: One is with some sort of godly metal. The other is with some form of binding magic that stops them from re-forming in this world. But killing her isn’t the problem; I’ve done that. The problem is that she won’t die.”

Claymore raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, won’t die?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Alabaster said. “If I kill her, she doesn’t stay dead, no matter what I try. When most monsters disintegrate, their spirits go back to Tartarus and it takes years, maybe centuries before they can regenerate. But Lamia comes back immediately. That’s why I came to you. I know you’ve researched the spiritual aspects of death, probably more than anyone else in this world. I was hoping that you could figure out a way to keep something dead.”

Claymore thought about it for a second, then shook his head. “I want nothing more than to destroy that creature, but this is beyond me. I need to understand your world better—how these gods and monsters operate, and the rules of your magic. I need data.”

Alabaster frowned and took a sip of tea. “I’ll tell you what I can, but we may not have much time. Lamia is getting better and better at seeing through my concealment spells.”

Claymore leaned back. “In my dream, Hecate said that you were a member of the army of Kronos. Surely there are other members of your army. Why not ask them for help?”

Alabaster shook his head. “Most of them are dead. There was a war between the gods and Titans last summer and most half-bloods—demigods like me—fought for the Olympians. I fought for Kronos.”

The boy took a shaky breath before continuing. “Our main transport ship, the Princess Andromeda, was obliterated by an enemy faction of half-bloods. We were sailing to invade Manhattan, where the gods have their base. I was on our ship when the enemy half-bloods blew it up. I only survived because I was able to put an incantation of protection on myself. After that, well…the war didn’t go our way. I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran. Kronos himself marched on Olympus, only to be killed by a son of Poseidon. After Kronos’s death, the Olympian gods smashed any remaining resistance. It was a massacre. If I remember right, my mother told me that Camp Half-Blood and its allies had sixteen casualties total. We had hundreds.”

Claymore eyed Alabaster. Though Claymore wouldn’t call himself empathetic, he did feel sorry for this boy, having gone through so much at such a young age. “If your forces were completely destroyed, how did you escape?”

“We weren’t all destroyed,” Alabaster said. “Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy. There was a general amnesty, I guess you’d call it—a deal negotiated by the same kid who killed Kronos. That kid convinced the Olympians to accept the minor gods who’d followed Kronos.”

“Like your mother, Hecate,” Claymore said.

“Yes,” Alabaster said bitterly. “Camp Half-Blood decided that they would accept any children of minor gods. They would build us cabins at camp and pretend that they didn’t just blindly massacre us for resisting. Most of the minor gods accepted the peace deal as soon as the Olympians proposed it, but my mother didn’t. You see…I wasn’t the only child of Hecate serving under Kronos. Hecate never had many children—but I was the strongest, so my siblings followed my lead. I convinced most of them to fight…but I was the only one who survived. Hecate lost more demigod children in that war than any other god.”

“That’s why she refused their offer?” Claymore guessed.

Alabaster took another sip of tea. “Yes. At least, she refused it at first. I urged her to keep fighting. But the gods decided that they didn’t want one rebellious goddess to spoil their victory, so they made her a deal. They would exile me forever from their favor and their camp—that was my punishment for having an attitude—but they would spare my life if Hecate rejoined them. Which is another way of saying that if she didn’t join them, they’d make sure I died.”

Claymore frowned. “So even the gods aren’t high and almighty enough to resist blackmail.”