The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(48)

Claymore muttered another curse.

Alabaster stopped when he got to the street and looked up at the sky. “We can’t escape. She’s locked us in. This storm is a binding incantation. I can’t dispel it while the barrier’s up. Running isn’t an option; we have to fight.”

Claymore stared at him in disbelief. “Black’s truck is right there. We can take the truck and—”

“And then what?” Alabaster stared back, freezing Claymore in place. “It doesn’t matter how fast we drive. All we’re doing is giving her a bigger target to hit. Besides, that’s exactly what she’d expect a mortal like you to do. Just stay out of this—I’m trying to save your life!”

Claymore glared at him, his blood boiling. He’d come here to help this boy, not stand around feeling useless. He was about to argue when the glowing rune on Alabaster’s leg burst into flame. The boy winced in pain, falling to his knees. Above them, the green dome shattered with a sound like a million windows breaking.

“Brother!” Lamia cried over the roar of thunder. “I’m here!”

Lightning struck all around them, taking out electrical poles and setting trees ablaze.

The rest of the world didn’t even seem to notice. A few houses away, a man was watering his lawn. Across the street, a woman trotted out to her SUV, chatting on her cell phone, oblivious to the fact that her maple tree was on fire. The same kind of flames that had killed Burly…Apparently to half-bloods and monsters, the mortal world was just collateral damage.

Alabaster forced himself up, pulling a flash card from his pocket. Instead of a man, this card had the inscription of a crudely drawn sword on it. When Alabaster tapped the drawing it started to glow, and suddenly the sword wasn’t so crude.

A solid gold broadsword extended from the card, glistening into reality and forming in Alabaster’s hand. The sword was etched with glowing green runes, like the ones on Alabaster’s clothes. And even though the thing must have weighed a hundred pounds, Alabaster held it in one hand with ease.

“Get behind me and don’t move,” he said, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

For once in his life, Claymore didn’t even try to argue.

“Lamia!” Alabaster shouted at the sky. “Former queen of the Libyan empire and daughter of Hecate! You are my target, and my blade finds you. Incantare: Persequor Vestigium!”

The symbols on Alabaster’s sword blazed even more fiercely, and every single rune on his clothes shone like miniature spotlights. A collage of magical spells surrounded him, and his entire body seemed to radiate power.

He turned to Claymore, who took a step back. Both of Alabaster’s eyes were flashing green, just like Lamia’s.

The boy smiled. “We’ll be fine, Claymore. Heroes never die, right?”

Claymore wanted to argue that, in fact, the heroes always seemed to die in Greek myths.

But before he could find his voice, thunder roared, and the monster Lamia appeared at the edge of the lawn.

Alabaster charged.

As Alabaster raised his sword, he felt something he hadn’t felt since he’d invaded Manhattan with Kronos’s army—the willingness to give his life in the name of a cause. He’d dragged Claymore into this. He could not let another mortal die because of this monster.

His first swing was a hit, and Lamia’s right arm disintegrated into sand.

To normal monsters, a wound like that from an Imperial gold sword would be a death sentence, but all Lamia did was laugh.

“Brother, why do you persist? I only came here to talk.…”

“Lies!” Alabaster spat, lopping off her left arm. “You’re a disgrace to our mother’s name! Why don’t you die?”

Lamia gave him a smile of crocodile teeth. “I don’t die because my mistress sustains me.”

“Your mistress?” Alabaster scowled. He had a feeling she wasn’t talking about Hecate.

“Oh, yes.” Lamia dodged his strike. Her arms were already re-forming. “Kronos failed, but now my mistress has risen. She is greater than any Titan or god. She will destroy Olympus and lead the children of Hecate to their golden age. Unfortunately, my mistress doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t want you alive to interfere.”

“You and your mistress can go to Tartarus for all I care!” Alabaster roared, slicing Lamia’s head clean down the middle. “Are you in league with the gods now? Did Hera send you to kill me?”

The two halves of Lamia’s mouth wailed. “Do not mention that name in my presence! That crone destroyed my family! Don’t you understand, brother? Haven’t you read my myths?”

Alabaster sneered. “I don’t bother reading about worthless monsters like you!”

“Monster?” she shrieked as her face mended. “Hera is the monster! She destroys all the women her husband falls in love with. She hunts down their offspring out of jealousy and spite! She killed my children! My children!”

Lamia’s right arm re-formed, and she held it in front of her, trembling with rage. “I can still see their lifeless bodies in front of me.…Altheia wanted to be an artist. I remember the days when she apprenticed under my kingdom’s finest sculptors.…She was a child prodigy. Her skills rivaled even those of Athena. Demetrius was nine, five days from his tenth birthday. He was a wonderful and strong boy, always trying to make his mother proud. He was willing to do anything in order to prepare for the day he took his place as king of Libya. They both worked so hard, they both had amazing futures ahead of them. But then what did Hera do? She brutally murdered them simply to punish me for accepting Zeus’s courtship! She’s the one who deserves to rot in Tartarus!”