They backed Porphyrion to the edge of the
cliffs, the whole of modern Athens spread
out below. Lightning had melted all the
weapons in the giant’s hair. Molten Celestial
bronze dripped through his dreadlocks like
caramel. His skin steamed and blistered.
Porphyrion snarled and raised his spear.
‘Your cause is lost, Zeus. Even if you defeat
me, the Earth Mother shall simply raise me
again!’
‘Then perhaps,’ Zeus said, ‘you should not
die in the embrace of Gaia. Jason, my son …’
Jason had never felt so good, so recognized,
as when he father said his name. It
was like last winter at Camp Half-Blood,
when his erased memories had finally returned.
Jason suddenly understood another
layer of his existence – a part of his identity
that had been cloudy before.
Now he had no doubt: he was the son of
Jupiter, god of the sky. He was his father’s
child.
Jason advanced.
Porphyrion lashed out wildly with his
spear, but Jason cut it in half with his gladius.
He charged in, jabbing his sword through
the giant’s breastplate, then summoned the
winds and blasted Porphyrion off the edge of
the cliff.
Log in to comment