The House of Hades (The Heroes of Olympus #4)(120)

Besides, Leo sounded serious. His eyes were still full of that weird melancholy, like he was in two places at once; but nothing about his expression indicated any kind of joke.

“Go ahead, Hazel,” Frank said.

“But…” Hazel took a deep breath. “Okay.” She took out the piece of firewood and handed it to Leo.

In Leo’s hands, it wasn’t much bigger than a screwdriver. The tinder was still charred on one side from where Frank had used it to burn through the icy chains that had imprisoned the god Thanatos in Alaska.

From a pocket of his tool belt, Leo produced a piece of white cloth. “Behold!”

Frank scowled. “A handkerchief?”

“A surrender flag?” Hazel guessed.

“No, unbelievers!” Leo said. “This is a pouch woven from seriously cool fabric—a gift from a friend of mine.”

Leo slipped the firewood into the pouch and pulled it closed with a tie of bronze thread.

“The drawstring was my idea,” Leo said proudly. “It took some work, lacing that into the fabric, but the pouch won’t open unless you want it to. The fabric breathes just like regular cloth, so the firewood isn’t any more sealed up than it would be in Hazel’s coat pocket.”

“Uh…” Hazel said. “How is that an improvement, then?”

“Hold this so I don’t give you a heart attack.” Leo tossed the pouch to Frank, who almost fumbled it.

Leo summoned a white-hot ball of fire into his right hand. He held his left forearm over the flames, grinning as they licked the sleeve of his jacket.

“See?” he said. “It doesn’t burn!”

Frank didn’t like to argue with a guy who was holding a ball of fire, but he said, “Uh…you’re immune to flames.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I have to concentrate if I don’t want my clothes to burn. And I’m not concentrating, see? This is totally fireproof cloth. Which means your firewood won’t burn in that pouch.”

Hazel looked unconvinced. “How can you be sure?”

“Sheesh, tough audience.” Leo shut off the fire. “Guess there’s only one way to persuade you.” He held out his hand to Frank.

“Uh, no, no.” Frank backed off. Suddenly all those brave thoughts about accepting his fate seemed far away. “That’s okay, Leo. Thanks, but I—I can’t—”

“Man, you gotta trust me.”

Frank’s heart raced. Did he trust Leo? Well, sure…with an engine. With a practical joke. But with his life?

He remembered the day they had gotten stuck in the underground workshop in Rome. Gaea had promised they would die in that room. Leo had promised he would get Hazel and Frank out of the trap. And he’d done it.

Now Leo spoke with the same kind of confidence.

“Okay.” Frank handed Leo the pouch. “Try not to kill me.”

Leo’s hand blazed. The pouch didn’t blacken or burn.

Frank waited for something to go horribly wrong. He counted to twenty, but he was still alive. He felt as if a block of ice were melting just behind his sternum—a frozen chunk of fear he’d gotten so used to he didn’t even think about it until it was gone.

Leo extinguished his fire. He wriggled his eyebrows at Frank. “Who’s your best buddy?”

“Don’t answer that,” Hazel said. “But, Leo, that was amazing.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Leo agreed. “So who wants to take this newly ultra-safe piece of firewood?”

“I’ll keep it,” Frank said.

Hazel pursed her lips. She looked down, maybe so Frank wouldn’t see the hurt in her eyes. She’d protected that firewood for him through a lot of hard battles. It was a sign of trust between them, a symbol of their relationship.

“Hazel, it’s not about you,” Frank said, as gently as he could. “I can’t explain, but I—I have a feeling I’m going to need to step up when we’re in the House of Hades. I need to carry my own burden.”

Hazel’s golden eyes were full of concern. “I understand. I just…I worry.”

Leo tossed Frank the pouch. Frank tied it around his belt. He felt strange carrying his fatal weakness so openly, after months of keeping it hidden.

“And, Leo,” he said, “thanks.”

It seemed inadequate for the gift Leo had given him, but Leo grinned. “What are genius friends for?”

“Hey, guys!” Piper called from the bow. “Better get over here. You need to see this.”

They’d found the source of the dark lightning.

The Argo II hovered directly over the river. A few hundred meters away at the top of the nearest hill stood a cluster of ruins. They didn’t look like much—just some crumbling walls encircling the limestone shells of a few buildings—but from somewhere within the ruins, tendrils of black ether curled into the sky, like a smoky squid peeking from its cave. As Frank watched, a bolt of dark energy ripped through the air, rocking the ship and sending a cold shockwave across the landscape.

“The Necromanteion,” Nico said. “The House of Hades.”

Frank steadied himself at the rail. He supposed it was too late to suggest turning back. He was starting to feel nostalgic about the monsters he’d fought in Rome. Heck, chasing poison cows through Venice had been more appealing than this place.