Invisible ― Jason Grace

xxiii. five minutes

THE FIFTH COHORT slammed into a herd of wild centaurs that were attacking the Third Cohort. When the campers of the Third saw the eagle standard, they shouted insanely and fought with renewed effort.

The centaurs didn't stand a chance. The two cohorts crushed them like a vise. Soon there was nothing left but piles of dust and assorted hooves and horns.

"Form ranks!" the centurions shouted. The two cohorts came together, their military training kicking in. Shields locked, they marched into battle against the Earthborn.

Frank shouted, "Pila!"

A hundred spears bristled. When Frank yelled, "Fire!" they sailed through the air—a wave of death cutting through the six-armed monsters. The campers drew swords and advanced toward the center of the battle.

At the base of the aqueduct, the First and Second Cohorts were trying to encircle Polybotes, but they were taking a pounding. The remaining Earthborn threw barrage after barrage of stone and mud. Karpoi grain spirits—those horrible little piranha Cupids—were rushing through the tall grass abducting campers at random, pulling them away from the line.

The giant himself kept shaking basilisks out of his hair. Every time one landed, the Romans panicked and ran. Judging from their corroded shields and the smoking plumes on their helmets, they'd already learned about the basilisks' poison and fire.

Reyna soared above the giant, diving in with her javelin whenever he turned his attention to the ground troops. Her purple cloak snapped in the wind. Her golden armor gleamed. Polybotes jabbed his trident and swung his weighted net, but Scipio was almost as nimble as Arion.

Then Reyna noticed the Fifth Cohort marching to their aid with the eagle. She was so stunned, the giant almost swatted her out of the air, but Scipio dodged.

"Romans!" Her voice boomed across the fields. "Rally to the eagle!"

Demigods and monsters alike turned and gawked as Percy and Camilla bounded forward on Mrs. O'Leary.

"What is this?" Polybotes demanded. "What is this?"

Camilla felt a rush of power coursing through the standard's staff. She raised the eagle and shouted, "Twelfth Legion Fulminata!"

Thunder shook the valley. The eagle let loose a blinding flash, and a thousand tendrils of lightning exploded from its golden wings—arching in front of Camilla like the branches of an enormous, deadly tree, connecting with the nearest monsters, leaping from one to another, completely ignoring the Roman forces.

When the lightning stopped, the First and Second Cohorts were facing one surprised-looking giant and several hundred smoking piles of ash. The enemy's center line had been charred to oblivion.

The look on Octavian's face was priceless. The centurion stared at Percy and Camilla—mostly Percy—with shock, then outrage. Then, when his own troops started to cheer, he had no choice except to join the shouting: "Rome! Rome!"

The giant Polybotes backed up uncertainly, but Camilla knew the battle wasn't over.

The Fourth Cohort was still surrounded by Cyclopes. Even Hannibal the elephant was having a hard time wading through so many monsters. His black Kevlar armor was ripped so badly that his label just read ant.

The veterans and Lares on the eastern flank were being pushed toward the city. The monsters' siege tower was still hurling explosive green fireballs into the streets. The gorgons had disabled the giant eagles and now flew unchallenged over the giant's remaining centaurs and the Earthborn, trying to rally them.