The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

about aimlessly, chest-bumping each other for no apparent reason, pushing one another back into the chasm, shooting arrows into the air as if trying to kill flies and occasionally, out of sheer luck, throwing a javelin, a sword or an ally in the direction of the enemy.
    Meanwhile, the army of monsters got thicker and angrier. Earthborn threw volleys of stones that ploughed into the zombie legionnaires, crushing them like paper. Female demons with mismatched legs and fiery hair (Frank guessed they were
empousai
) gnashed their fangs and shouted orders at the other monsters. A dozen Cyclopes advanced on the crumbling bridges, while seal-shaped humanoids – telkhines, like Frank had seen in Atlanta – lobbed vials of Greek fireacross the chasm. There were even some wild centaurs in the mix, shooting flaming arrows and trampling their smaller allies under hoof. In fact, most of the enemy seemed to be armed with some kind of fiery weapon. Despite his new fireproof pouch, Frank found that extremely uncool.
    He pushed through the crowd of dead Romans, shooting down monsters until his arrows were spent, slowly making his way towards his friends.
    A little late, he realized –
duh
– he should turn into something big and powerful, like a bear or a dragon. As soon as the thought occurred, pain flared in his arm. He stumbled, looked down and was astonished to find an arrow shaft protruding from his left biceps. His sleeve was soaked with blood.
    The sight made him dizzy. Mostly it made him angry. He tried to turn into a dragon, with no luck. The pain made it too hard to focus. Maybe he couldn’t change shape while wounded.
    Great, he thought. Now I find out.
    He dropped his bow and picked up a sword from a fallen … well, he actually wasn’t sure
what
it was – some sort of reptilian lady warrior with snake trunks instead of legs. He slashed his way forward, trying to ignore the pain and the blood dripping down his arm.
    About five metres ahead, Nico was swinging his black sword with one hand, holding the sceptre of Diocletian aloft with the other. He kept shouting orders at the legionnaires, but they paid him no attention.
    Of course not, Frank thought. He’s
Greek
.
    Jason and Piper stood at Nico’s back. Jason summoned gusts of wind to blast aside javelins and arrows. He deflected a vial of Greek fire right up the throat of a gryphon, which burst into flames and spiralled into the pit. Piper put her new sword to good use, while spraying food from the cornucopia in her other hand – using hams, chickens, apples and oranges as interceptor missiles. The air above the chasm turned into a fireworks show of flaming projectiles, exploding rocks and fresh produce.
    Still, Frank’s friends couldn’t hold out forever. Jason’s face was already beaded with sweat. He kept shouting in Latin: ‘Form ranks!’ But the dead legionnaires wouldn’t listen to him, either. Some of the zombies were helpful just by standing in the way, blocking monsters and taking fire. If they kept getting mowed down, though, there wouldn’t be enough of them left to organize.
    ‘Make way!’ Frank shouted. To his surprise, the dead legionnaires parted for him. The closest ones turned and stared at him with blank eyes, as if waiting for further orders.
    ‘Oh, great …’ Frank mumbled.
    In Venice, Mars had warned him that his true test of leader-ship was coming. Frank’s ghostly ancestor had urged him to take charge. But, if these dead Romans wouldn’t listen to Jason, why should they listen to him? Because he was a child of Mars, or maybe because …
    The truth hit him. Jason wasn’t quite Roman any more. His time at Camp Half-Blood had changed him. Reyna had recognized that. Apparently, so did the undead legionnaires.If Jason no longer gave off the right sort of vibe or aura of a Roman leader …
    Frank made it to his friends as a wave of Cyclopes crashed into them. He lifted his sword to parry a Cyclops’s club, then stabbed the monster in the leg, sending him backwards into the pit. Another one charged. Frank managed to impale him, but blood loss was making him weak. His vision blurred. His ears rang.
    He was dimly aware of Jason on his left flank, deflecting the incoming missiles with wind; Piper on his right, yelling charmspeak commands – encouraging the monsters to attack each other or take a refreshing jump into the chasm.
    ‘It’ll be fun!’ she promised.
    A few listened, but across the pit the
empousai
were counter-ing