Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One

A Bird Woman Crashes my Party

On my seventh birthday I got the worst present ever.

Let me take a step back and introduce myself. My name is Perseus Jackson– Percy, for short. And before you ask, yes, it's after the Greek hero. My mom picked it because out of all those old heroes he was one of the only ones to get a happy ending. The name sounded cool, so I wasn't going to complain, but I could never figure out why she was choosing from those old myths in the first place.

At least, until that birthday I couldn't.

The day had started normally enough- take advantage of the Sunday to sleep in; laze downstairs; find a spread of blue pancakes on the table; consume said spread. That was nothing new.

"Your favorite," my mom had said when she saw me eating, standing proudly with blue food coloring still on her hands. It was an old joke between the two of us– my step father mentioned there was no such thing as blue food and my mom picked up a habit of proving him wrong, continuously.

I'd nodded eagerly, crumbs flying off my cheeks in the process.

Sally Jackson – my mom – was the kindest, sweetest, and most perfect person in the world, and no one could convince me otherwise. Her brown hair was always frizzy and frayed at the edges, hinting at where my own raven mop got its uncontrollable-ness. When you spoke to her, she'd always look you in the eyes and make it clear you had her undivided attention. Her eyes glittered warmly around the clock and had permanent crinkles next to them, like her face had been expressly designed for smiling.

She also had the rottenest luck I'd ever seen. Her parents died in a plane crash, the uncle she was sent to live with passed away from cancer, and my father – the best break she ever got – was lost at sea.

Not dead, mind you. Anytime I called him that my mom would gently, but firmly, correct me. Lost at sea.

Still, in spite of everything she'd gone through, she did the absolute best anyone could've done for me. She wanted to be a novelist more than anything but taking care of her uncle had forced her to drop out of school. So she worked a day job, took care of me, and earned a diploma with night classes all at the same time. She never once complained about it or snapped at me. That was just the type of person my mom was.

Anyway, it wasn't until after I'd finished stuffing myself full of pancakes that things started to get weird. The crashing boom of thunder sounded, and a bright flash illuminated the apartment. Outside the window the heavens opened, sheets of water tumbling down and pounding against the ground.

Thunder storms weren't unusual in Manhattan in August, but something felt off about this one. It felt angry. I glanced at my mom and caught her nibbling her bottom lip nervously.

"Gabe will be back in a few days," she muttered to herself. "It'll be fine."

"What'll be fine?"

She looked at me in surprise, like she didn't realize she'd been speaking out loud. "Nothing for you to worry about, dear. Now, I've got all these movies here and I just can't seem to choose one of them. Care to help me out?"

I didn't buy that for a minute. Gabe was Gabe Ugliano, my stepfather. He was pudgy, smelly, and had a face like an Elephant's armpit. Amazingly, his personality was even worse than his appearance. He was a drunk and a bully who my mom could've done much better than, and I knew it even back then. In short, the weeklong 'business' trip he'd gone on was the finest thing he'd done since moving in.

On the other hand, movies were distracting. We weren't a rich family, and the days where we could sit down together and relax were rare. It was all about weighing up which was more important: getting to the bottom of an ominous situation or choosing a movie. To my seven-year-old mind, the choice was easy.

"I want to watch Jaws!"

The storm raged on for the next few hours, but I barely noticed it. We had turned the living room lights down low and laid out blankets on the couch, letting us snuggle in. On the table a huge bag of 'free samples' from the candy shop my mom worked at was already showing a sizeable dent. Life was good– which goes to show just how quickly things can change.

It started with a knock. Three sharp raps that wrang out from our front door and made my mom's forehead crease.

"I'll get that," she said to me, pushing her way to her feet. "I swear if it's that dishwasher salesman again. He's been by three times this week already!"

I nodded absently, completely focused on the TV. The movie had just reached its climax, and I never could bring myself to look away from Jaws' death. A tear rolled down my cheek as I watched the massive shark go to the big chum bucket in the sky. I'd seen the scene at least a dozen times already, but something about it left me sad every time.

From the other room, I distantly heard the front door squeak and my mom's voice say "I told you last time, we don't need any applian-" She cut off suddenly, and when her voice came back it sounded embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Miss. We've just had the most belligerent salesman calling recently and, well, I thought you were him."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Another voice said, and something about it grabbed my full attention. It was a woman's voice with a strange rasp to it, like if a bus's exhaust pipe had decided to strike up a polite conversation. It sent shivers down my spine, but I couldn't place why.

"You are Sally Jackson, are you not?" The visitor asked sweetly.

"Yes," my mom answered after a beat, sounding confused. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Most likely, but don't you worry about that. Is your son home?"

Another pause.

"He is," my mom said suspiciously. "Why do you want to know? Spring Hill didn't send you, did they?"

I cringed at the mention of my last school. How was I supposed to know the lever would set off the sprinklers? And then they had the nerve to expel me for "doing it on purpose", just because I was lucky enough to not get drenched. Completely unfair if you asked me.

"Did you rethink your decision?" My mom carried on. "I can get the paperwork right now if you-"

"No, no," the visitor interrupted. "All you have to do, concubine of the sea-"

A loud crack cut them off as the door was slammed shut hard enough to rattle its hinges. I heard the sound of the lock being bolted and then my mom was in the room with me again, face deadly serious.

"We're leaving," she said. "Now."

"What's going on? Who was that?"

She brushed by me, grabbing my hand as she went and dragging me toward the kitchen. "There's no time, just get to the fire escape!"

I hurried to keep up with her as we crossed our small apartment in record time. Just as we entered the kitchen a bang wrang out and I spun around to find our front door hurled clear across the living room.

"Mortals these days, no manners," The visitor's voice called out. "Why can't you be like you were back in Pandareus's days? Now that was a man who knew how to die conveniently."

By now my mom had pried open the window to the fire escape and crawled through.

"Come on!" She urged me, and I didn't need to be told twice. Dying conveniently was something I was perfectly fine with being bad at, thank you very much.

I slipped outside and we started clambering down the slick metal ladders. When our feet touched pavement, my mom grabbed my hand again and we booked it down the sidewalk. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like the raging storm around us was growing even stronger. A bolt of lightning cracked the sky directly above our heads.

"What's going on?" I asked as we ran. "Did that person just blow up our front door?"

"That wasn't a person," my mom said grimly.

"Then what was it?"

She wouldn't answer.

In the end, we made it three blocks before they caught up with us.

A dark shape slammed straight down in our path, forcing us to skid to a halt. The shape stood and revealed a figure that was almost human- note the word almost.

It was a woman with long greying hair and electric blue eyes, like an ageing Scandinavian grandma. Long red wings stretched out from her arms, running from the wrists to the shoulders. Sticking out the bottom of a 50's style flower print dress were two feathered ankles and tri-pronged feet. Each of her six toes were marked by wicked talons longer than my hand that scraped against the ground, digging gouges into the stone.

In her hand was a long trench coat and she let go of it now, letting it flutter to the ground. How she could ever have gotten it on with the wings sticking out of her arms was beyond me.

"First you shut me out, then you make me chase you down?" The figure asked irritably, tilting a pair of reading glasses that rested across her nose. There was no mistaking the voice I'd heard outside our door. "Do you have any idea how long it will take to dry out these feathers?"

I stared at her, trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing.

The feathers, the legs, the voice…there was no way she was human. But then that just created a whole new set of questions.

"What are you?" I asked. The bird-woman's eyes slid onto me.

"You can't even recognize a Harpy?" She said, licking her lips. "An ignorant little half-blood, no idea what's going on. Oh, you must be so confused…and confusion always makes for the juiciest fear. Yes, I can work with this."

My mom laid a hand across my chest protectively and I met her eyes.

I didn't like what I found.

She looked like she did whenever rent was due and we were short: panicked but putting up a brave front. Still, she gave me a look that told me to be quiet and follow her lead. I figured that was the least I could do.

"Leave," she said to the Harpy. "You do not want to anger his father."

The Harpy made a noise somewhere between a car alarm and a squeaky toy that it took me a moment to realize was a laugh. "That oath breaker has no power here. His siblings are united against him on this issue- he wouldn't dare to intervene."

"Are you so certain that you would risk it?"

The Harpy eyed her closely before letting out another of those inhuman laughs. "You bluff well mortal, but not well enough. Now do try to die with your best look of terror on your face. I'm an artist, you see, and you know what they say about making every work your best yet."

The bird-woman raised her arms with a manic smile and stuck them out wide, like she was getting ready to give us the biggest bear hug she could. Then my mom shouted "Poseidon, you came!"

There was no one there. Not just right next to us, either, I mean there was literally no one else in sight in any direction. I hadn't noticed it before in the rush to get away but the always busy One-hundred-and-fourth street was completely empty, save for us and an avian grandma of death.

But the Harpy didn't know that. Her face flashed fearfully, and she spun around to fend off someone that wasn't there. Before she could realize she'd been tricked my mom had grabbed my wrist again and dragged me into an ally.

We ran, feet splashing against rapidly growing puddles.

"Did she say she was going to kill us?" I asked.

"Yes, so run!" My mom said desperately. "We just need to get away. If we can reach the ocean, we'll be fine."

That didn't make me feel much better considering how quickly we'd been caught before, but it was something at least.

"Wait, ocean? And did you say Poseidon, like the god of the sea?"

"Yes. I swear I will explain everything, bu–"

A huge gust of wind blasted through the alley and my mom's voice cut off abruptly. I'd been running just ahead of her, and the hand she'd been holding was suddenly empty.

"Mom!" I shouted, sliding to a stop. "Mom where are you?"

I spun in a circle but couldn't see any sign of her- I was completely alone. The rapid beating of my heart ratcheted up a notch.

"Ah, now that's much better. Such picturesque terror," the harpy's voice rasped from directly above me.

I craned my neck and found her hovering, wings beating casually. She stared down at me sadistically, eyes glowing like balls of ice.

"What's wrong boy?" She crooned. "Lost your mother?"

I balled my hands into fists, doing my best not to cry. "Why are you doing this?"

"Scared and alone," she continued, ignoring my question. "Not knowing what's happening or why… confusion and fear of death really are a scintillating combination." She eyed my face like a painter looking at a half-finished work. "But we can do better still."

She snapped her fingers and another gust of wind whipped up, intense enough that I had to shield my eyes. When I reopened them, my blood froze.

Suspended twenty feet in the air, bleeding from a multitude of small cuts, was my mom. Her arms were held tight to her sides, as if something were pressing her into position, but her eyes were wide open and alert.

"Run!" She yelled, before something I couldn't see slammed her jaw closed with a click. She stared down at me, silently pleading for me to listen, but I already knew there was no way I could just leave her.

"Oh yes. Oh yes, yes, yes!" The Harpy threw her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face. "This it, what I've been waiting for. Thank you, mighty Zeus, for giving me the canvas for which I have been searching."

High overhead a chain of lightning strikes rattled off. Maybe the stress had already driven me crazy, but I could've sworn they spelled out a message: get on with it.

Apparently, the Harpy heard it too because her expression lost some of its glee, a bit of professionalism coming to the fore.

"I do so wish I had more time," she said longingly. "But this will have to do. Prepare yourself, son of the sea, for you will become my masterpiece."

She raised her arms like a conductor, high and wide.

"You will live forever…through death!"

I'll never forget those words. Just like I'll never forget what came next.

Her arms dropped and the wind exploded, force and noise buffeting me. A cry of pain rang out and Something splattered against the alley floor.

I stared on helplessly as slowly, meticulously, my mom was lowered to the ground, a deep gash on her side bleeding heavily. Her clothes were already changing color.

I couldn't grasp what I was seeing. When she finally touched the ground I was already there, grasping her hand desperately.

"Percy…" She said weekly, struggling to meet my eyes.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Distantly, I realized I was crying.

"I'm…sorry…"

Her head lolled backwards. The hand I'd been holding lost its faint pulse. I felt at her neck and found it cold to the touch.

No.

No. No. No. No!

I reeled backwards, brain refusing to grasp what I was seeing. This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not to her.

A massive lightning bolt flashed overhead, illuminating the scene in morbid detail. The boom of thunder that followed it was twice as loud as all the ones before it put together.

"Times up," The Harpy said, pride and sadness mixing in her voice. "Die, boy, knowing that you were the greatest work of the Okythoe's career. Tell everyone you meet and spread the word far. With this I know my work will finally get the acclaim it deserves. I can already see the awestruck faces when I pass- even Apollo will recognize me!"

She giggled, eyes far away.

I snapped.

My mom, the most wonderful woman in the world, the kind soul that always did right by those around her, that raised me by herself, was gone. And now the thing that did it was boasting? Was telling me to advertise it? This wouldn't stand.

Something in my stomach twisted. All the confusion, fear, and grief that had been building there shifted into something much more manageable: anger.

A sense of strength like I'd never felt flooded me. My eyesight sharpened, blurry details crystalizing into a crisp scene. I pushed myself to my feet and my body felt light as a feather.

Okythoe snapped her fingers and wind whipped toward me, razor sharp edges eager to maim and kill. Without fully understanding why, I reached out an open hand and squeezed it into a fist.

The alley sprung to life.

All around me the puddles that had been growing deeper and deeper exploded upwards, metric tons of water congealing into a huge wave with a specific target. The last I saw of Okythoe was the terrified whites of her eyes as the wave grabbed her and swallowed. Then the water crashed back down to the ground with lethal force.

In the span of a few seconds I had learned that huge quantities of charging water was hard to stop. Go figure. But I also learned that it wasn't the best at stopping other things- namely wind.

While my impromptu tidal wave had been body slamming Okythoe, her blades of wind had been slicing toward me. Sure the water slowed them a little, but it sure as hell hadn't stopped them. It was only a last second dive to the side that kept me from being completely cut to shreds.

Which wasn't to say I got off scot-free.

Pain exploded at my left shoulder and right ankle. It felt like someone was pouring molten lava straight into my veins. My vision started blurring and my thoughts felt hazy. I lay on my side and looked over at my arm, trying to see what was wrong.

I couldn't find it.

I tried again, scanning the place it should've been. Nothing. Panic started to well up in my chest, but I could feel consciousness slipping away at the same time, the pain and distress catching up with me. I rolled over onto my back, landing with a heavy thud.

Rain splattered on my face as I stared up. Maybe…maybe all this was a dream. In a minute I would wake up in my warm bed and wander downstairs to my mom's homemade breakfast- for real this time. Yea, I liked the sound of that.

Then a man's face appeared above me looking down with mournful grey eyes. He let out a sigh and spoke, voice sounding as weary as I felt.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

A pair of arms gently scooped me up and everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Two

I Take the Phrase An Arm and a Leg Literally

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that everything was dark. So dark, in fact, that I shut my eyes and tried opening them again, just to make sure I wasn't staring at my eyelids. Nothing changed.

The second thing I noticed was that I was lying with my back against something hard. Unless my mattress had become a rock overnight, this wasn't in my bed.

Which led directly into the third thing I noticed: I wasn't in my room. I snapped to a sitting position, adrenaline kicking in and chasing the last dregs of sleepiness from my mind. I glanced this way and that, trying to figure out where I was and how I got here.

Then it hit me. My birthday, the storm, the harpy…and my mom. I felt my last hope, that it had all been a dream, slip away. Tears started flowing and I went to wipe them away.

Clang!

"Ow," I moaned, my cheek throbbing. It felt like a metal pole had just decked me. "What hit me?"

"You did," A voice said from the dark, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I whipped my head around, searching for the person who'd spoken. I tried to ask 'who's there' but between my surprise and aching face it came out more like "Hu zere?"

"You'll have to be careful," the voice pressed on. "Your arm is unfamiliar to you. You'll have to learn to use it again from the ground up. Your foot too."

I heard the sound of a switch being flicked and suddenly bright, beaming light filled the room, momentarily blinding me.

"Oops," the voice said apologetically. "It's been a while since things like brightness could catch me off guard. I forgot that not everyone is so lucky."

I finally managed to pry my eyes open and found an older man staring at me, arms tucked behind his back.

Dressed in a simple but effective grey cotton t-shirt and jeans, he had a short beard of grey hair that covered the bottom half of his face. The hair on his head was also cut short, a mix of black and grey streaks that hinted at the coming of old age. His mouth was pressed into an apologetic smile, but it was his eyes that really drew my attention.

The blue orbs seemed to radiate shrewdness, like they were constantly appraising whatever they looked at. Currently, that meant me. Those eyes rake over me and I shifted uncomfortably. It felt like my every dimension was being measured and noted down for later use. Not a pleasant feeling.

"How do you feel?" The man asked suddenly.

I hadn't expected that question, and it took me a moment to process it. "Fine," I said eventually, hoping the strange man would start explaining what was going on.

"I find that those who answer that question with fine are often the least fine. Those who were recently severely injured fall into that category as well. Seeing as you're currently both, you'll forgive me if I don't take you at your word. How does your arm feel?"

"My arm?" I said. "It's perfectly norm-"

I cut off abruptly as I realized something terrifying: I couldn't feel my arm at all. It was like it wasn't there.

"Had you not noticed before?" The man asked sympathetically. "By the time I found you it was beyond repair- completed severed."

"What? But my arm's right here!"

And it was. Even though I couldn't feel it, I could definitely see it. The most unusual thing was the long-sleeve and glove combination that was hiding away every ounce of skin.

"An arm," he corrected me, "Not your arm. Or, I suppose, it is your arm now. Your new arm."

My head was spinning trying to follow along, and he seemed to notice.

"It is a lot to take in, I know. If you've questions, ask them."

He was slipping into a teacher role now, and it seemed to suit him better than the doctor-with-bad-news act, like it was more natural. Or maybe it was just that my list of questions was getting so out of control that the opportunity to get even some of them answered was enough to leave me sagging in relief.

"Who are you?"

He brought a palm to his forehead as he answered. "Where have my manners gone? My name is Daedalus, young one."

The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place why. I realized I hadn't introduced myself, either.

"I'm Percy. It's short for Perseus, but nobody calls me that. Just Percy."

I wasn't sure why I gave my full name. Usually, I didn't. But something about it just seemed fitting for the situation, even if I couldn't put my finger on why. When Daedalus heard it, his eyes took on a faraway look, like he was picturing another face over my own. Then he shook himself and smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you, Percy."

There was a moment of silence, and I decided it was time to address elephant in the room.

"What happened to my arm?" I asked.

"Well, that one needs a bit of clarification. Do you mean the arm you have there, or the one you were born with?"

"Both."

He chuckled. "That works too. Your natural arm, as I said before, was severed by the Harpy before I arrived. The only saving grace was that it was a clean cut, making the wound easier to treat. That arm there," he gestured toward me, "is my own creation. I won't bore you with the details, but at its heart it's a metal prosthetic, albeit a particularly advanced one."

It should've been a watershed moment. A moment where I realized that my life had been changed irreversibly. Instead, all I could think was "I'm a cyborg?"

"Nothing so extreme. More like a cripple, with the chance not to be." He broke into a wry smile. "This is also where I would've warned you to be careful, and that adjusting to your new appendages will be difficult work, but I believe you already learned that lesson yourself."

I thought back to the one thing I'd used the arm for since waking up: drying my face. At the time I'd thought it felt like a metal pole had struck my face. Now I realized just how accurate a description that was.

"I managed to punch myself in the face?" I asked, cheeks going red.

Daedalus nodded, trying to hide a smirk. "Indeed."

I was pretty good at embarrassing first impressions but that one was up there, even for me. I decided to change the subject.

"Where are we?"

Daedalus' face lit up like I'd given him a Christmas present.

"That, I think, would be easier to show you."

I quickly found that the space we'd been in was a loft of sorts, just up a flight of stairs from the strangest room I'd ever seen.

It looked like a home-goods truck had crashed into an electronics shop at 100 miles per hour, and the results had been dumped here. Chairs, clocks, and tables lined the walls and floor, but each one had a twist, some sort of lever, or a mess of wires sticking out the side, all hinting at strange purposes I couldn't even guess at. There was clutter everywhere, still-on laptops lying next to half-eaten sandwiches and coffee cups. It took the phrase lived-in to a whole new level.

I'd had plenty of time to take in the room as I stumbled toward the wall Daedalus directed me to, one made of solid glass. He hadn't been kidding about my body feeling unnatural- I'd nearly tripped five times in ten steps, my ankle rolling or toes catching as my new foot flat out refused to do what I wanted it to. But now that I'd finally gotten to the destination, it was so very worth it.

"Wow," I said.

Sprawling out in front of me, separated only by a thin sheet of glass, was the most majestic view I'd ever seen.

A massive mountain loomed over its surroundings, twin peaks towering completely unchallenged. Dusting its base and the surrounding area was a roaming pine forest, the sharp-tipped trees coating the ground in every direction. In the sky the sun was shining past the edges of strange disklike clouds, catching white snow and making it glow like a flashlight.

"Mount Shasta," Daedalus said, looking out over my shoulder. "A truly beautiful mountain. Dangerous, too. The Nephelai have taken a liking to it, especially the young ones. I wouldn't recommend getting any closer unless being struck by lightning is something you would seek out. Even the mortals can tell there's something strange about it."

I laid a hand on the glass. "Mortals. You say that like you aren't."

"Of course I'm not. Even before I became a-" he paused and cleared his throat. "Well, what I mean to say is, that I'm a half-blood, and that I always have been."

"The Harpy called me that. A half-blood."

"And she was right. You are."

My hand slid off the glass and balled into a fist. "But what does that mean. Half what?"

I felt Daedalus' eyes bore into my back. "Half god."

I wanted to yell at him that that couldn't be true. That gods were just stories. Just myths. But my objections died in my throat.

Because you know what else were myths? Harpies. And little boys that controlled water with their minds, for that matter. If those things existed – which I'd learned firsthand that they did – then what was so hard to believe about their being gods, too.

But there was something that was bothering me.

"But if my dad's a god," I began, "then where was he? If he's so powerful then why did he never even visit!"

Daedalus was silent for a long time. I was getting ready to repeat the question when he finally spoke, his voice sounding sad. "There is no kind answer. The gods have lived very long lives and have accumulated an astounding amount of things to remember. Sometimes they simply forget their children. Other times, they simply don't care. In your case, though, the answer is somewhat more complicated."

I opened my mouth and he held up a hand to stop me. "Patience. I will explain as well as I can."

I shut my mouth and nodded.

"The first thing you must understand is that not all gods sire half-bloods. Hestia and Artemis are sworn to chastity, while Hera, as the goddess of marriage, would never practice infidelity. Would never cheat on her husband," he clarified, seeing my confused face. I wondered why he didn't just say that in the first place. "Much more recently, the three sons of Kronos have sworn not to father half-bloods. Their children were simply too powerful and were changing the course of history too much. At the center of most mortal wars you could find a child of theirs', if you knew what to look for."

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. "Those three, the sons of, um…"

"Kronos."

"Yea, him. His sons, who are they?

Daedalus looked at the window nervously, eyes lingering on the sky. "Names have power, Percy, and speaking theirs' out loud would not be a good idea in our situation. Here." He turned to a desk and shoved things out of the way until he held a paper and pen in his hands. He scribbled something down quickly and flipped it around for me to see.

Zeus

Hades

Poseidon

The last name was the one I'd expected but hoped not to see. It was what my mom had yelled to distract the harpy, right before saying we'd be safe if we reached the sea. Right then, there was no doubt in my mind.

Poseidon, the god of the Ocean, was my father.

I don't know what my expression looked like in that moment, but it must've been something because Daedalus was suddenly staring at me more intently than before.

"What is it?" He asked. I pointed at the third name on his list.

"That's my father."

My voice must've sounded as certain as I felt because Daedalus didn't even question me. He just flipped the paper back around and stared at it for a few moments mumbling under his breath rapidly.

"…zeus…powerful…danger…"

Between his hushed voice and frantic tone I only caught a few words. Then his mouth clicked shut and his eyes locked back on me.

"I knew Zeus wanted you dead– harpies are his hounds, after all, and there was the whole thunder storm part. I suspected you may be a child of the Big Three, but I didn't know. It's always nice to be proven right."

He was making an effort to keep his voice light, but it wasn't quite working. I looked into his eyes and saw a hint of fear and…was that excitement?

"A child born against the oath," he carried on. "Oh yes, I can see that the other two would be quite angry at that."

"So, I'm what?" I asked angrily. "A mistake? Just a reminder that my dad messed up?"

Daedalus hummed. "That is a way of looking at it. A way, but not the only way."

He stepped up beside me and pointed out the window-wall. "Do you see this view?"

I nodded.

"It's captivating, isn't it? I'll let you in on a secret: this room never stays in place longer than a day. Each morning it shifts to somewhere different, always high up and always beautiful. But for all the views I've seen, this may be my favorite."

He took a moment to savor the view in front of him, drinking it in.

"I've seen a lot of beauty, but something about the beauty here always grabs hold of me. It tugs at my heart in a way the other views have never been able to. That, I expect, is how your father saw your mother."

"Whatever he saw in her was so alluring that he couldn't restrain himself. He was willing to break his oath, incur the wrath of his brothers, rather than pass her by. She must've been quite the woman."

"She was," I murmured.

Then my eyes widened. My mom.

With all that was going on – waking up in a strange room, finding out my arm had been replaced, learning I was a god's kid – I'd been distracted from what really mattered.

My mom was dead. There would be no more blue breakfasts, no more understanding hugs when a school kicked me out, no more loving looks as I was tucked in at night.

The view outside suddenly seemed offensive. How could the world be so beautiful without her in it?

"My mom is dead," I repeated, out loud this time.

"And does that give you the right to ignore how she lived?" Daedalus asked.

I'd expected platitudes, not a challenge. "What?"

"People die for all sorts of reasons. Everyone past a certain age has lost someone close to them. It's the worst feeling in the world, especially when the person was taken from you." The way he said it, I didn't doubt for a second that he was speaking from experience. "But to focus only on their absence, and not what they did to make their absence be felt so strongly, is a disservice."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "The hardest part is moving on, but it's also the most important."

Outside the window a Vulture glided by, wings stretched wide. I tracked its lazy progress until it drifted all the way out of sight.

Some part of me already agreed with Daedalus. It wasn't the sort of thing you could let go of just like that, but I also didn't want the first thing I remembered about her to be a stormy alley and bloody clothes.

Blue breakfasts, understanding hugs when a school kicked me out, loving looks as I was tucked in at night.

Yes, those were much better things to remember her by.

"I have nowhere to go," was all I said when I finally spoke again. "My stepfather won't take me, and even if he did, I'd just be attacked again. Thanks for saving me, but you probably wasted your time. I have nowhere to go."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Daedalus said cheerily. "I have an offer. You see, I haven't had human company down here in a very long time, and I'd been thinking that it was about time that changed. It's always helpful to have someone to test- I mean discuss, my inventions with, and it can get dreadfully boring down here without a decent conversation to pass the time. It would give you a place to stay and a teacher to help get you up to speed and keep from dying. So, what do you say, willing to keep an old man company?"

I tried to wrap my head around the offer. It sounded to good to be true, giving me a place to stay and someone to learn from for what seemed like no cost at all. It made me wonder what he was really getting from it.

But it also wasn't really a choice. I didn't have anywhere else to go. Not that wouldn't get me killed anyway, and I wasn't eager enough to see my mom for that, especially since I knew she'd murder me when she found out.

"Sure," I said to Daedalus, trying to sound nonchalant. His eyes lit up.

"Amazing," he said with a clap. "We'll do great things Percy, you and I." He started walking back across the room, and I stumbled after him as quickly as my foot would allow.

"I'll give you a quick tour of my little home down here. There's only one bedroom at the moment but I should be able to whip up another one in just a few days." He reached a side door that seemed bigger than it needed to be- it looked around 20 feet tall and half as wide.

Daedalus twisted the handle and started to pull before stopping halfway and looking back at me. "Oh, I should also mention. Whatever you do, don't get scared- She's completely harmless."

Before I could ask what he meant with that ominous warning, he finished pulling the door open and stepped well out of the way. A black wave immediately rushed through the door, and the last thing I saw was a metal color with the name Mrs. O'Leary engraved on it before everything went dark and wet.

Woof!

The bark rattled my bones as I stared up into the face of a way oversized dog. The dog panted back down at me, drool dripping in buckets onto my chest.

"Isn't she lovely?" Daedalus asked lovingly.

I wasn't so sure

Chapter Text

Three

I Get a Cool Gift

The wooden sword arced down at me in an overhead swing. Luckily, being five foot tall had its advantages. All I had to do was duck down and it sailed harmlessly overhead.

Daedalus tsked and dropped into a defensive stance. Even after two months of training me he couldn't help but aim for an adult-sized target. His reflexes were working against him. It was also the only advantage I had, and probably the only thing keeping my number of bruises below fifty a day.

I rushed forward, raising my blunt training sword high over my head and preparing to slash it down. Daedalus simply stepped forward into my face and smacked my forehead with his hilt. I stumbled backwards and fell on my butt.

"How many times does that make?" Daedalus asked.

I poked at a growing bruise on my forehead sullenly. "A lot."

"Yes, a lot. sixty-eight, to be precise. That's how many times you've charged me recklessly like that. Swordsmanship is not just about force and power, Percy, you need finesse."

I could hear the frustration in his voice. The fact that it was nowhere near the first time we'd had this exact talk likely didn't help. But I couldn't help it! We'd dueled two hours a day for the last eight weeks, and in that time I'd yet to land a single hit on him. I knew it was silly to expect anything different, but that didn't keep my temper from flaring up as I was smacked around like a toy.

Besides, it wasn't like there was no progress. When I'd first picked up the mock sword I could barely hold it up long enough to get a swing in. Now I could run through Daedalus' practice exercises with barely any mistakes…But I still couldn't land a hit on the man himself.

I shuddered to think what it would've been like if I wasn't a demigod. The moment a duel started my world would kick into overdrive, just like it had with the Harpy. Daedalus said it was "ingrained battle instincts", which was a fancy way of saying my brain worked better in a fight than out of one.

I pushed myself back to my feet and dropped into my best stance, but Daedalus held up a hand to stop me.

"That's enough for today."

"What? But it's so early."

We usually went until the sun started going down, but looking out the glass wall I could see it was still high in the sky.

"I can't just take the day off," I complained. "I need to learn!"

"Losing one afternoon is not going to change anything in the long run. Today's a special occasion," Daedalus said, dropping his sword onto a holding rack. Reluctantly, I wandered over to do the same.

"And…what makes it special?"

"I have a gift for you. An important one."

There was a twinkle in his eyes that made me want to turn tail and run. I'd seen some of the things his mind could whip up, and most of them weren't the types you wanted to be anywhere near when he gave them their grand reveal.

Seriously, how anyone could think it was good idea to install an automated toilet paper machine – without testing it beforehand – was beyond me. It had taken all of two days before the thing went off the rails and wrapped me up like a mummy. I still found scraps of Charmin Ultra Soft on me while in the shower, and it happened a week ago.

"What sort of gift?" I asked warily.

The twinkle just got stronger. "Go shower and get cleaned up– if I spoiled the surprise now it would ruin the fun."

I watched him a moment longer before trudging away with a sigh.

"Yea," I muttered. "Fun."

I stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed. Water always gave me a nice burst of energy, even the kind that came from a faucet. With a sigh, I went about getting dressed.

Something I hadn't thought much about at the time was that I'd lost all my clothes. The harpy hadn't exactly given me time to pack. When I woke up in Daedalus' lair I'd had only what I was wearing, and even those were soaked and torn.

That was how I discovered that Daedalus was an excellent seamster. I suppose it made sense that an inventor as accomplished as him could build with more than just metal, but there was still something strange about seeing him pump out clothes as easily as breathing.

He'd left me with a few light blue hoodies, a set of black shirts, and a bunch of simple beige cargo pants. Practicality over aesthetics was Daedalus' approach to fashion, and as I pulled on a clean set of clothes I realized it had rubbed off on me.

My bedroom wasn't huge or fancy, but I didn't need either of those things. It opened onto a bathroom, had a bed, a desk, a comfy arm chair, and a bureau for my clothes. That was more than enough. A small backpack rested by the door. Scattered across the otherwise blank walls were small displays and hangers, all of them empty.

"You'll need a place to keep your trophies," Daedalus had said. When I asked him what kind of trophies, he'd just smiled mysteriously and said, "You'll see".

Dressed and refreshed, I wandered back into the central room. Daedalus' workshop was the same as it had been back when I first saw it, save for one corner that had been cleared and covered with mats to operate as our training space.

The man himself was leaning over a desk, fingers blurring as he fiddled with something small. He didn't even notice me until I cleared my throat.

"Ah, you're here," he said, looking up. "Have a nice shower?"

He was dragging things out to annoy me and we both knew it. I crossed my arms. "If it was important enough to cut our training short, it's important enough for you to spit it out."

He laughed before tossing something small in the air and catching it. I tried to get a better look at what he was holding as he walked toward me, but it was clutched tightly out of sight.

"What do you think it is?" He asked, holding up his closed hand.

I thought for a second. "Did you finally manage to condense a container of Greek Fire?"

"Last week actually," he said, gesturing to a table by the door. There were a few canisters around the size of a thermos sitting on it. "Try again."

"Is it your instant coffee maker that's actually instant?"

"If I could get that prototype down to this size I'd never sleep again. No."

I was scraping the bottom of the barrel. "I don't know, an edible pen for if you get hungry while you're writing?"

"Getting warmer. Sort of."

I frowned. "There's no way I'll get it, is there?"

"Not with that attitude there's not."

I sighed and he gave up on hiding his chuckles.

"Fine, fine," he said. "See for yourself."

He opened his hand and I stared.

"It's a…mechanical pencil?"

"For now."

I growled. "Can you stop trying to be mysterious?"

"Sounds like I'm doing more than trying," Daedalus laughed. Still, he did start explaining.

"This, Percy, will be your weapon."

I was about to say a writing utensil didn't seem very dangerous to monsters, but before I could open my mouth Daedalus had clicked the eraser once, like he was extending the led. Instantly, the pencil whirred and somehow started expanding, until he was holding a straight-edged sword around three feet long.

"Woah," I said. "Cool."

"Yes. Very cool," Daedalus agreed proudly.

The sword had a solid bronze hilt that shone softly. The blade itself was mostly bronze as well, but it was speckled with spots of black that seemed to suck slightly at the light of the room, like miniature black holes. Even from a few feet away I could see how sharp the blade's edges were. It looked ready cut through even stone, just waiting for someone to give it the chance.

"Where is it from," I asked, eyes wide.

"From?" Dedalus scoffed. "From right here, in this room."

I blinked. "So it isn't an ancient relic passed down for generations, or the weapon of a hero you claimed in a duel, or anything like that?"

Dedalus stared at me. "I'm an inventor, Percy, not a treasure hunter. Besides, only the best will do for my protégée, and that, naturally, means my own work."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I settled for "How does it work?"

His face lit up at the chance to show his creation off. "That's the fun part."

He flipped the sword around into a reverse grip and rested a thumb on the end of its hilt. Then he tapped it's point against the ground once. The sound of whirring gears returned, and the sword compressed back into a mechanical pencil.

I opened my mouth to repeat how cool the thing was, but Daedalus cut me off.

"Now watch this," he said. His voice sounded like a parent watching their kid perform in a talent show. He clicked the pencil again, but this time twice.

This time when it expanded it was not a sword he was holding, but a spear as tall as I was.

Its handle was the same polished bronze. The tip, roughly 5 inches of curved metal, rounded out to a wicked point. Like the sword before it, the end was speckled with spots of black. The entire thing was so clean I could see the room's reflection in its polished surface.

"Are you going to teach me to use a spear?" I asked excitedly.

"You should focus on mastering the sword before looking for more to learn," Daedalus rebuked lightly. "But no, I won't be able to help with that. I'm a swordsman, and that's all I am. I never had the interest to learn a second weapon."

"Then how am I supposed to learn?" I frowned. "And why make it in the first place?"

He collapsed the weapon with two quick taps. "When the time comes for you to learn, we'll find a teacher. I already have a few ideas. As for why I made it, I get the feeling you will need options in your future. More than I ever did, anyway."

For some reason, I couldn't help but agree.

I almost asked how something so small could expand so much, before realizing it wasn't worth it. Talking common sense physics with Daedalus always ended with a headache. Instead I asked, "Does it have a name?"

He blinked like the thought hadn't ever occurred to him. Then he scrunched his brow in thought. When he finally spoke, he sounded amused, like he was telling a joke that only he seemed to understand.

"The sword will be Anfisa, the spear Anthea, and the sheathed form Aelia. A fitting tribute to the three daughters of Cocalus, wonderful girls that they were."

My head spun. "I kinda meant, you know, one name?"

He rolled his eyes. "You need a bit of creativity."

"What I'll need is memory if you keep on like that."

He shook his head.

There was a pause, and when Daedalus spoke again all traces of humor had disapeared. "I need your full attention now, Percy. What I tell you next, I need you to understand and never forget."

I squared my shoulders and tried my best to look mature and responsible.

"You are, under no circumstances, to touch the blade of any of the forms. Do you understand?"

I nodded, but couldn't help asking "Why?"

"Because if it cuts you, it could suck your soul from your body."

I waited for him to laugh or smile, pleased with his joke, but it never came. He just stared me in the eyes, all business. I gulped as I realized he was very much serious.

"I won't," I told him. "But…"

"Why make it like this?" Daedalus filled in after I trailed off.

I gave him another nod.

"There are two types of metal capable of hurting monsters, immortals, and half-bloods: Celestial Bronze and Stygian Iron. Celestial Bronze is the most common and reliable. It will pass through mortals like air, but anything beyond that will feel its effects in full. This is the material of the weapon's handle and makes up most of its blade as well."

"The other is Stygian Iron. It originates from the underworld and works by assaulting its target's very soul. It absorbs their essence after defeating them, making it capable of slaying even the dead. It is far rarer than Celestial Bronze, both because so few travel to the underworld, and because only children of that realm can wield weapons made purely of it." He clicked the pencil – Aelia, I reminded myself – and it sprung back into the form of Anfisa, the sword. He pointed at the specks of black dotting the blade. "Those, are Stygian Iron."

"But how am I supposed to use it?" I asked. "I'm not a child of the underworld."

Daedalus waggled the finger of his free hand. "Only they can use weapons of pure Stygian iron. This is not that– It's a composite. The first of its kind." He showed off the bronze handle.

Now, I had to admit the idea of being able to suck out souls sounded pretty cool. But I also wasn't totally sold on the whole don't-let-it-touch-you-or-you-die thing. I couldn't think of a more embarrassing way to go out than rubbing my own weapon wrong and dropping dead on the spot.

"If it were that easy," I wondered. "Why doesn't everyone use composite weapons? Wouldn't everyone want one?"

Daedalus hummed. "Stygian Iron is very rare – even I only have a small supply – but I suppose most simply don't see the point. Children of the underworld can use the metal to direct their powers, but for the average demigod the benefits are quite sparse. It can occasionally disrupt monsters' ability to reform, and dispatch those that already dwell in the underworld. Not many see those things as being worth the risk of trapping their own soul."

That sounded like a very good reason to avoid it to me.

"But you don't," I said. "Why?

Daedalus stared at me – no, stared through me – with hollow, almost haunted eyes.

"Because," he said, "the worst monsters don't let death stop them from coming after you."

Without any windows, my bedroom was pitch-black with the lights out. Despite this, I turned Aelia over again and again above my head as I lay in bed, staring at the place I knew it was as if I could see it. And in a way, I could. I'd studied Daedalus' gift enough in the six weeks since receiving it that I knew its every inch by heart.

There was something fascinating about such a nondescript thing, what looked like a mechanical pencil straight from an office store, being able to transform like it could. Not one but two weapons, each totally different but equally beautiful, and they came from the simple little thing held above my head.

For a second, I wondered if there was a way to write with it like it was actually intended to, but I quickly brushed that off as unimportant.

What was important was that I had a weapon now. For months I'd heard all about my potential. About all the heroic stories Daedalus knew. He said I'd be able to make my own one day, but I'd never really felt the part. I was just some kid who couldn't even graze his teacher after months of learning to use a sword.

But with Aelia in my hands that was starting to change.

Both of the weapon's forms were amazing. Intricate, beautiful, and effective. They were the types of things you could see on an ancient bust in a museum and not bat an eye– the types made to go down in history for the great feats they had accomplished.

But more importantly, they were the types of things that could help people.

It had played over and over again in my head in my head, every time Daedalus told me a story about an ancient hero: what if someone like that had been there when the harpy had attacked?

Would we have had to run? Would I have lost my arm? Most importantly, would my mom still be alive?

It was a fantasy. The people in those stories had been dead for thousands of years. But I just couldn't shake the idea.

What if?

Daedalus had told me newer stories, too. He said there were hundreds of half-bloods scattered across the country…and that most of them were picked off by monsters before ever learning what they were. I pictured a random kid in a random house, watching helplessly as their parent faced down a monster while telling them to run and not look back. Then I saw myself appearing, wielding Anthea in my hand. Stabbing the sword through the monsters back. Saving the day. The image seemed so right. So much better than me sleeping comfortably in a bed, tucked away and safe from the world above.

Even if I only took one monster down, that was one less threat to other kids like me, right?

The biggest roadblock was where I was. Daedalus' lair was deep in the Labyrinth– the ridiculously complicated maze he had created. Once I stepped outside, finding my way would be impossible.

Or it would’ve been, if I didn’t have a way around that.

I clenched my hand, holding Aelia tight, before slipping out of bed as quietly as I could, my mind made up.

I grabbed my small backpack from the bedroom floor, tossed some clothes in it, and pushed the door open. Every squeak from the hinges made me flinch, but it was over quickly enough, and I slipped out into the main room. Outside the glass wall a nearly full moon shone just brightly enough for me to see where I was going. Even though it was the middle of the night, I glanced around to make sure Daedalus wasn't pulling an all-nighter like he so often did. The coast was clear.

I picked my way across the room, working over to a table next to the workshop's main door.

Clang!

I cursed and ducked down, hoping Daedalus hadn't heard that. I'd improved by leaps and bounds at using my new foot and arm, but I still wasn't perfect. Things like, say, clipping the leg of a table I was trying to slip past weren't uncommon. But no lights flicked on, and no voice called out, so I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd gotten away with it.

Reaching the table without any more incidents, I started feeling around for what I was looking for. My hands closed around something metal and rounded. A cannister of some sort. I frowned. It wasn't what I was after, but what was it?

I held it up in the light to get a better look and found one of Daedalus' containers of condensed Greek fire. He'd said it wasn't the container's size that was revolutionary, but how much he had packed into a cannister of this size. He also said it still needed field testing, so I placed it carefully into my backpack. This seemed like as good an opportunity for that as any.

I returned to my search and groped around in the dark for a few more minutes. I knew it was here because Daedalus had used it as an example just yesterday…Ah! Right there. I gripped something soft and squishy and pulled a large ball of red yarn off the table.

Ariadne's string. He hadn't explained how it worked, but Daedalus was adamant that it could guide you through the maze. He'd used it while explaining the basics of magic items to me, citing it as an example. It had just looked like a string then – and still did now – but I trusted he knew what he was talking about.

I also thanked my lucky stars he hadn't bothered to put it away after showing it off. Talk about lucky.

I slung my pack over my shoulder and held the string in my left hand as I grabbed onto the door to the outside and swung it open.

A pitch-black corridor stretched out before me, the darkness complete save for the little bit of moonlight leaking in from behind me to illuminate tall and intimidating walls. The air was stale, like it wasn't made intended for human lungs, and a faint chill brushed against my skin. The scene was so ominous that I found myself frozen.

What was I doing? I had the sudden urge to turn around and run back to my room. Back to what was safe. But the scene flashed through my head again, of someone going through what I did, and I shoved down the fear as best I could.

A quick click Anthea sprung readily into my hand, the sword's glow illuminating the path in front of me and settling my nerves slightly. I took a deep breath and stepped into the Labyrinth.

I could do this, I told myself. This was what I had trained for. But as I started down the corridor, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was making a mistake.

When the door swung shut behind me, I could've sworn I saw a face in the shadows. A large, familiar, canine face. But by the time I blinked it was gone, and I rubbed at my eyes. The sudden darkness must've been playing tricks on me.

I kept walking

Chapter Text

Four

The Chef Tries to Add Me to the Menu

The Labyrinth was like nowhere I'd ever seen. The walls seemed to change around every turn, bouncing from polished marble to crumbling brick to stainless steel like it was nothing. One corridor's floor was covered in grass, the next made of solid cement. The only thing that stayed the same was how dark it was, the only light coming from the soft glow of my sword.

There was no telling how long I walked. Long enough to feel how late it was, at least. Night was my only chance to sneak out, but it also meant no sleep for me. Without the adrenaline pumping in my system I had no doubt my eyelids would've already been drooping.

Finally, after what felt like my thousandth turn, I saw a light ahead of me. It was only a faint glow but compared to everything else before it, it might as well have been a spotlight. As I approached, I noticed that it was flickering slightly like a campfire.

I stepped through a gap just under twice my height and found myself in a strange, square room.

Sure enough, the light was coming from fire, two torches on each of the stone walls. On the opposite side from me was a plastic picnic table sitting in front of a massive, closed door.

To my right was a faded old couch, the fluffy kind you'd see in an old lady's house. Except this one looked dirty, like it hadn't been cleaned – or moved – in a very long time. A homemade cardboard sign rested above it, red ink spelling out "waiting area" in letters that looked like a preschooler had written them.

"A customer!" A booming voice called out, making me flinch away and raise my sword defensively.

The biggest guy I'd ever seen stepped in through the far door. He was as tall as an NBA player with the physique of a lineman. He wore a ratty white chef's outfit that was bulging at the seams, especially the arms where his massive biceps threatened to break free. A wicked scar ran along his left cheek and a tuft of black hair poked out from under a tall white hat. On the front of his equally worn apron were the words "everybody kiss the cook" right next to a nametag labeling him as Steve.

"Don't be like that. Go on, take a seat."

Steve treated me to a smile, gesturing to the couch. It would've been a lot more reassuring if it didn't show off teeth sharpened to points. Seeing I wasn't moving, he sighed.

"If you'd prefer to remain standing you may, but the wait is quite long. I wouldn't recommend it."

I raised my sword slightly higher. "The wait for what?"

"Food, of course." He gave me a strange look. "Why else would you have come to Steve's Delicious and Tasty Restaurant. Ah- that's trademarked, by the way."

He smiled apologetically, as if I would've wanted to use the terrible name myself.

"What are you?" I found myself asking. His size and face screamed dangerous, but I couldn't see anything outright inhuman. The closest thing was his smell, a stench that was wafting off of him and across the room. It reminded me of roadkill.

"Me?" He said, starting to tap his foot impatiently. "I'm a chef. Now, did you call ahead, or will you be ordering here?"

"Call ahead? What?"

He pulled out a spiral-bound notebook with a heavy sigh. "Ordering here it is, then. A shame- that'll make the wait even longer. Flesh Tearer!"

At first I thought it was a threat, but he didn't so much as look toward me. Instead, the door he'd entered from swung open again.

"Yes Boss?"

Another giant man stepped through, this one somehow a head taller than the first. He had long blonde hair and eyes that didn't look all there. Instead of a chef's outfit he wore a torn suit, large gashes showing off almost yellow skin

"Get this upstanding customer a lunch menu," Steve said.

"Right away boss," Flesh Tearer answered, before stopping and scratching his head. "But…don't we only have one menu?"

Steve's head snapped up. "We've been over this, dolt. Saying lunch menu sounds more professional. It leaves a good impression. So when I tell you to get the lunch menu, you get the damned menu!"

"Oh. Why didn't you say so boss?"

It happened in a flash. One second Flesh Tearer was standing there, dopey face and all, the next he was on the floor clutching his cheek. Steve's hand was still extended, a thick metal club clutched in it. I hadn't even seen him draw the weapon…or where he'd been keeping it.

"Question me again and I'll send you back to Tartarus myself, employee shortage or no."

For a second Flesh Tearer's face split into a snarl, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a defeated look. Steve nodded in satisfaction.

"That's the spirit. Don't forget- I beat you once and I can do it again, anytime I want. Now get me the gods damned menu."

Flesh Tearer slunk out of the room like a wounded animal and Steve looked back at me, schooling his features into a smile once more.

"So sorry you had to see that. I try to keep conflict in-house, but there's only so much you can do when dealing with incompetents."

"You're a monster," I said. There was no way a human could've moved like that. Or even lifted his thick weapon, for that matter.

"I know I can be a harsh boss, but I don't think I'm that bad," Steve laughed. Behind him, Flesh Tearer reentered the room with a paper in his hands.

"You smell funny," he said, tossing me the menu and walking away. I caught it in my free hand and, with one quick look to make sure Steve wasn't about to charge me, glanced at it.

Strangely enough, my dyslexia didn't act up at all. There were only three things on it: ribs, thighs, and limbs.

When I looked up again Steve was tapping his foot impatiently, arms crossed. I realized I was testing his patience. Unless I wanted to try my luck against that club, ordering was in my best interest.

"Ribs," I said. "I'll get ribs."

"Ribs it is then!" He clapped and stepped out of the room.

I glanced down at the menu. Sure it was convenient, but my dyslexia should've been jumbling it into a chaotic mess right now. Why wasn't it…

Oh.

I'd read it so naturally I'd somehow missed it. The entire thing was written in Greek. Ancient Greek.

If I'd had any lingering doubts before, they were long gone now. Definitely monsters.

Question was, what was I going to do about it? My goal had been to get out and make a difference. Take down some actual monsters instead of a never-ending stream of practice dummies. But Steve was well over twice my size and Flesh Tearer was even bigger. I thought about the massive steel club I hadn't even seen move, and decided a tactical retreat was in order.

It wasn't running away. Not permanently, at least. I'd be back later when I had a few more tricks and a lot more experience under my belt.

I'd just begun scurrying for the door I'd come in from when I heard the sound of hinges squeaking from across the room.

"Could I interest you in a glass of- Where do you think you're going?!" Steve's voice shouted. "You haven't paid! Thief! Cheapskate!"

I sped up, breaking into a sprint as lumbering footsteps thudded like cannon shells behind me. Steve was fast, but he'd gotten there too late. Within seconds of his appearance I had slipped through the door back into the corridor, a gap too small for the chef's massive frame.

"Get back here!" he yelled, leaning down to keep his eyes on me while stretching out a meaty arm out, clawing at the air in a futile attempt to grab hold of me.

I took a deep breath where I stood, about twenty steps away from his clumsy swings, and rolled my eyes. "Sure, give me a sec and I'll be right over."

"You know," Steve said. "My idiotic employee did get something right. You do smell funny." The lone eye I could see on his turned head gleamed menacingly. "Like a tasty, little, demigod."

I watched him silently, wondering if I could get a quick stab in while he flailed around.

"I didn't notice it in the room, thought I was just smelling the stock," Steve carried on. "But it's more than that. You smell like…seafood."

It took me a moment to catch the first part, but when I did, I felt my blood boil. "You thought it was your stock? You cook people!"

He laughed an ugly, grating laugh. "Stupid little demigod. What else would we cook? You said it yourself." He smiled, showing off those wickedly pointed teeth. "I'm a monster."

My grip on my sword tightened and I took a deep breath, reigning in the urge to charge in and skewer him.

"We get them from all over, all different kinds," Steve continued. "The ones that think they can fight are fun, especially the look on their face when they realize it's over. Then there are the ones that beg and plead. Always a good laugh. But the best? The best are the ones people try to protect."

He giggled drunkenly, smile stretching unnaturally wide as he basked in memories. "Sometimes it's a friend, sometimes a lover. But most of the time it's a parent. Dumb little mortals that act so important, as if their dying first was ever going to save their child. Sometimes, I even leave them alive, just so they can watch their child die and know there was nothing they could do about it. Then, of course…" He clenched his fist tight. "It's their turn."

He was baiting me. I knew that. The problem was that I was past thinking. Before I could even process what I was doing I'd closed half the distance between us.

My senses sharpened, just as they always did when a fight started. I glanced at the distance and estimated the time until I would reach him. I watched his smirk grow and caught how he raised his left arm.

The second I stepped into his range Steve's massive fist slammed down like a piledriver, hitting the ground with enough force to crack it. But I was ready. I pushed myself into a forward roll, slipping between his meaty legs before springing up on the opposite side. I twisted around, aiming to stab his unprotected back and finish the fight in a single move.

It was only a sixth sense that saved me, a sudden feeling of danger that had me scrambling backwards before fully knowing why.

Crunch!

Steve's club filled the spot I'd just left, his arm barely straining under the weight of the heavy object.

"Missed," he growled. "Next one won't."

He pushed himself to his full seven-foot-something height, hefting his weapon as he went. I swallowed, then charged.

We fell into a pattern of sorts. I would dart in, trying to get close and score a hit. But like clockwork a heavy strike would interrupt me, sometimes from the club, sometimes the empty fist, and a few times even a lashing kick. Whatever the type, I knew I couldn't afford to take even one of those hits. After the tenth or so repetition, I took a few extra steps back to make some space. This was going nowhere.

His arms were longer than mine and so was his weapon. There was no way for me to get close enough to touch him.

"Tired already?" Steve mocked, making no move to follow. Despite his taunt his chest was moving faster than it had been at the start. "Ready to curl up and die yet? I hope not. It's less fun when they give up so early."

I wasn't about to do that, but I was running low on ideas. I just couldn't see any way to reach him with my sword. Unless I didn't use a sword…

It was a crazy idea. I barely knew how to hold a spear, let alone use one. But how hard could it be? Just reach in and stab.

I tapped my sword against the ground before clicking my thumb twice. The shaft of Anthea sprung into shape in my hands, and I tilted the tip towards Steve menacingly. He snorted.

"One toothpick for another. Is that supposed to scare me?"

I didn't answer, instead preparing to rush him. I would dodge his first attack and use the longer weapon to catch him in one go, before he could adjust. I could do it. I just had to be fast and not hesitate.

I took my first step, his arm tensed, and behind me a door slammed open.

"Ribs!" Flesh Tearer announced happily. In his hands was a covered tray, the kind you'd see in a fancy restaurant. "The ribs are here, customer!"

Me and Steve stared, and he finally seemed to notice the scene in front of him. "Were you two playing a game? No fair, Flesh Tearer likes games too." He dropped the platter and crossed his arms petulantly, like a toddler that hadn't gotten his way.

"A game?" said Steve. "He's a demigod, this is a fight."

Flesh Tearer sniffed and looked away. "That's my favorite kind of game."

"Who cares what it is, just get over here and help me take care of him!"

"So you don't invite me, then boss me around when I find out?" Flesh Tearer complained. "Well I won't do it. Not unless you ask nicely."

Steve let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat. "What do you mean you won't do it? I'm telling you-"

That was all the time I gave him. I wasn't too sure what was going on, but if both of them came at me I would have no chance- I had to finish it while it was still one on one.

I closed the distance in a few seconds. Even though I'd caught him somewhat off-guard, his club still whistled towards me the moment I got close. That was fine though. A quick few steps to the side took me out of danger, and I clumsily shoved Anthea forward.

Steve jerked backwards away from my spear's point, whipping his club after me as he went, forcing me to retreat.

A dripping sound caught my attention. Small red drops were falling from Anthea's tip to the floor below. I quickly looked back at Steve and, sure enough, found a thin cut on his chest. He had his free hand pressed against the wound, as if double checking that it was real. When he looked up there was a fire in his eyes.

"Playtimes over," Steve said, staring down not only me, but Flesh Tearer too. "You're dead. Both of you."

For the first time since the fight started, he was the one to come at me. His long legs were deceptively fast, and I had just enough time to hurl myself to the side before his club could smash me into Percy paste. I had no time to pat myself on the back though as Steve went in for a second try immediately, forcing me into a very clumsy roll.

I managed to scramble back to my feet, but I was hanging on by a thread at this point. My luck was going to run out soon. I needed a hit that would put him down for good. The club swung sideways toward me right at head height and I ducked underneath, before stepping in and stabbing with my spear, just like I'd done before.

It would've worked, but my aim was off at the crucial time, Anthea cutting a gash along Steve's shoulder instead of impaling his chest. Before I could process what had happened there was a flash of grey and my body flew.

I hit the wall with a thud and slid down to the floor. I'd somehow managed to keep my grip on Anthea, but there was nothing I could do with it; my head was spinning and I couldn't even think about moving.

Steve grunted as he strode over and knelt in front of me. "So you're still alive over here. Need to work on my backhand." He rolled his shoulder and stretched back a meaty fist. "Oh well, it won't matter for long."

I shut my eyes and waited for the impact. I wasn't scared, not really. Just frustrated. I couldn't even take down a single monster, and I'd been trying to be some sort of hero? I wasn't even close to good enough.

I wondered if I could find my mom, down in the Underworld. Was that even possible? It was my uncle's realm, maybe he'd put in a good word for me? Sure my other uncle had tried to kill me, and my dad refused to do a thing about it, but you never know. Maybe Hades was actually a big softie for family.

Bam!

My eyes shot open at the loud sound, just in time to watch Steve faceplant in front of me, club skidding uselessly across the floor. Behind him, hand curled into a fist, was Flesh Tearer.

"Ha ha," he laughed. "Always ordering me around. Always hitting me. Your turn now."

Steve groaned, somehow still conscious after the heavy hit. "Idiot. I was already planning to teach you a lesson, give you a reminder of why disobeying me is a bad idea. But you go and hit me with my back turned? Looks like we'll be seeing how long it'll take you to reform."

Flesh Tearer just leered at him. "Go get me the lunch menu."

And then they were moving, Steve shoving himself up while Flesh Tearer launched himself forward. It was like watching a fight between two gorillas on steroids, no blocking or strategy just pure strength and impact after impact, each one loud enough to send shivers down my spine.

They were so focused on each other that they'd completely lost track of me. My body still ached, but I was less out of it now. I could move again, enough to run away at least.

Except, there was currently a fight to the death between me and the door I'd come in from. I had not shot of getting to it without being seen and squashed.

Which left only one option: the other door. It led to whatever sort of kitchen Steve had been using, but there had to be something beyond it, too. They'd set up shop in the middle of the Labyrinth, which meant that if I could just get to the other side the passage should keep going, taking me far away from giant chefs and waiters.

I glanced at the fight one more time and watched Steve land a nasty left hook, before Flesh Tearer responded with a crunching uppercut of his own. This was the best chance I'd get.

Shakily, I made my way to my feet and rushed out of the room. Behind me, the battling giants never looked away from each other.

Chapter Text

Five

A Monster Tries to Set Up a Playdate

The room I burst into was more of a wide hallway than anything else. An open fire burned in one corner beneath a huge metal pot, its glow helping a few scattered candles light the room. Five cages rested against one of the walls, thankfully all empty.

Or I thought they were until I ran past them.

"Meh-eh-eh."

The noise was quiet but so unexpected it froze me in my tracks. It was also familiar, bringing me back to petting zoo trips on summer vacation. Sitting there in the last cage, looking back at me, was a goat.

"Meh-eh-eh."

Its voice was weak, but its eyes shone sharply from where it lay on its stomach, legs folded beneath it. Too sharply, I decided. Goats were not supposed to look calculating, but this one did.

"You want me to get you out of there?" I asked. The goat stared back as if to say no shit.

I shot a nervous look at the door. A giant could come steaming through it after me at any second, but at the same time…

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll get you out. But we have to be fast."

I felt a bit silly explaining myself to a barnyard animal, but as I yanked back the bolt keeping the cage door closed, I couldn't shake the feeling that it had understood me. The bars swung open with a squeal and the goat stood and clopped out. As it passed me, I got a view of the side of its utter. Scribbled on, as if with pen, were the words Water, Milk, and Pepsi.

"Did someone draw on you?" I asked. Then I shook my head. This was not the time.

I went to tell the goat to run, but it took my advice before I even opened my mouth. I spent a moment watching it bolt down the hall with surprising speed, before realizing that I should be doing the same.

"Wait up!"

Never let it be said that goats can't run. Or never say it about this one, at least.

It took a brisk jog just to keep my new companion in sight, and if it weren't for the fact it seemed to want me to follow it – stopping when it got too far ahead and waiting for me before turning corners – then I would've lost it almost instantly. Even then, I was sweating and panting by the time we came to a stop, deep into a particularly winding passageway. Somewhere along the way the walls had become dirt and stone, more like a cave and less like a tunnel. In the end though, it had been nothing but a dead end.

"You had no idea where you were going, did you?" I said. I wasn't sure why that surprised me so much. Of course the goat hadn't had a route planned.

"Meh-eh-eh," it bleated insistently.

"Don't look at me," I said. "You're the one that led us here!"

Its nostrils flared and it butted the wall of earth.

"That's not going to get you anywhere."

But it kept going, repeatedly hitting the same spot. I sighed and kneeled down, laying a hand on its head to calm it.

"Really, stop. You're going to hur- ow!" I cut off as the goat rammed forward again, slamming my hand against the wall. I was just about to tear the little menace a new one when something happened. Right where my hand had touched the wall a symbol was glowing. An Ancient Greek Delta, the same letter that sat above the door in a certain workshop. The symbol of Daedalus.

The wall began shifting almost immediately. Solid rock twisted out of the way like magic, and I found myself staring at a night sky and open field.

"Meh-eh-eh," the goat said, walking past me without a second thought. I followed after it, still somewhat shellshocked.

We stepped out of an opening that shut behind us, leaving nothing more than an innocuous hunk of rock. We were in a meadow hemmed in on all sides by trees. Humidity prickled at my skin and left me nostalgic for home; it felt like a summer night in New York City. Beside me, my companion began rewarding themselves with a nice helping of the grass that was reaching up to my knees.

I took a moment to steady my breathing and calm down. We'd done it. We'd gotten away.

Of course, just where we'd escaped to was an entirely different question. The Labyrinth covered the entire country, and huge distances could be traveled impossibly fast in its corridors. We could be just about anywhere.

I settled onto an empty section of ground and took my weapon, now returned to its pencil form, and began twirling it in my hands. It helped keep my ADD busy and let me focus.

Because focus was what I needed. I had to plan my next step. I was in an unfamiliar place, my only companion was a goat, and earlier that day I'd been one lucky break away from being served on a literal silver platter. If the giants hadn't ended up fighting each other…

I wasn't ready for this, not by a long shot.

My eyes began to water, frustration boiling over. I'd wanted to make a difference. I'd thought I could do it.

I'd been wrong.

But that didn't mean it had to stay that way.

My hand clenched into a fist, clutching Aelia tight.

I wasn't going to roll over and die just because I'd been an idiot. I was going to survive, and I was going to grow in the process. One day I'd be able to take down Monsters like Steve and Flesh Tearer without breaking a sweat. I didn't know when that day would be, but it was coming. I wouldn't let it be any other way.

A burp drew my attention, and my companion finished their up latest bite grass and started walking. I watched, debating whether I should just let it go its own way.

On the one hand, it was clearly more than just a goat. Regular goats didn' navigate their way out of the labyrinth, or even get into the Labyrinth in the first place. But at the same time I couldn't just keep following it forever.

The goat seemed to realize I wasn't coming and turned where it stood, a dozen steps away. The look it fixed me with gave a clear message: get moving.

And I did just that. Partially because there was clearly something special about the animal, and partially because following it had already helped me once. The goat seemed to nod its head in satisfaction, and we set off for the far edge of the clearing.

It was night, but the moon was still low in the sky. Almost a day had passed since I first set out. Maybe more. Time moved differently in the Labyrinth, just like distance. One minute down there could be a whole lot more above ground.

We passed between the first few trunks and started weaving through the forest. Pine needles cracked under my feet. I stumbled slightly and brought out Anfisa once more, using the sword for light.

For nearly half an hour we walked without incident, working our way deeper into the forest, until my guide stopped dead.

"What is it?" I asked.

The goat didn't answer, instead standing stock still. Then, without any warning, two things happened: a loud yell cut through the forest, and the goat took off running.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Wait up!"

It didn't, and as I went to chase it my metal foot clipped a root, sending me sprawling. By the time I pushed my head up and spat out a mouthful of leaves, it was completely out of sight.

Another yell cut through the clearing, this one louder than the first, and I shoved my way up with a shiver.

"Is someone there?" I called out. There was no response, but as I strained my ears, I could just make out a different type of noise. Low grunts and the clangs of deflected metal. The sounds of a fight. Holding my weapon at the ready, I did my best to sneak as I moved towards where the sounds were coming from.

As I closed the distance a few things became clear. First, there were multiple people fighting. At least two, based on the distinctive grunts and cries. Second, there was another, deeper voice that seemed to be talking incessantly. It sounded rough, like two sheets of sandpaper being rubbed together over a microphone. Third, the side with multiple voices seemed to be losing. Badly, if the frequent grunts of frustration were anything to go by.

A clearing came into view ahead of me and I ducked behind a tree on the edge of it, leaning my head out to peak at the scene. It was a strange one.

A boy and a girl a few years older than me were darting this way and that, wielding weapons against a towering eight-foot figure. The boy had sandy hair, tanned skin, and a sword slightly longer than my own which he was wielding viciously. The girl's hair was dark and cropped short. She moved much more cautiously with her weapon, a wicked looking spear.

Their opponent was the source of the talking, and her appearance was just as strange her voice. Where her legs should have been there was only a snakelike tail. Long claws sprouted from even longer fingers, like the posts on a cast iron fence. Her face was leathery and wrinkled. Her left eye socket was empty, but that didn't seem to be slowing her down. Her arms were blurs, lashing out and repelling the teens' weapons with no visible effort.

"Oh gosh, what stunning vitriol you show," she hissed, raspy voice dripping with pleasure. "You remind me of my own children. Have I told you that yet?"

The only answer she got was a new batch of attacks to fend off, which she did easily.

"They were right around your age when it happened, you know. So full of vim and vigor. So eager to please and charm." She sighed theatrically. "Oh I miss them so."

Then she perked up. I could practically see the metaphorical lightbulb go off above her head. "I know, why don't I send them some more playmates!"

As I watched her body tensed, preparing to lunge forward. The teens saw it too, but while the girl dropped back into a defensive stance the boy kept going. He leapt forward, throwing all his weight behind yet another wild swing, ignoring the shout of warning his partner let out.

What happened next was almost too quick for me to catch. Just before the sword reached her the woman-snake-thing struck the flat of it with her palm, sending it careening across the field. Her other hand whipped across a moment later, claws reaching wickedly.

To his credit, the boy reacted far better than I could've. As soon as he lost his weapon he hurled himself to the side, desperately creating space. His reaction time saved his life. Rather than scoring a deadly slash across his chest the claws only sliced into his shoulder. A sloppy somersault later he pushed himself to his feet, unarmed, good hand grasping his injury and rage in his eyes.

"Luke you idiot!" the girl yelled, speaking for the first time. "This is exactly what we were talking about!"

He growled, still not taking his eyes off the monster who strangely enough had halted her attack entirely, seemingly content to watch. "This isn't the time for this, Thalia."

Thalia's mouth opened, before clicking shut once more. "Fine. But we'll be chatting about this later, got it? Just get behind me for now."

"I can still fight," Luke said.

"Like hell you can! Have you seen your arm?"

"I can fight," he repeated.

"Luke." Thalia's tone was both pleading and firm. "Leave it to me."

For a long beat nobody moved. Then, slowly, Luke turned and started walking away.

"You better handle it," he said as he passed his partner, not quite keeping the worry out of his voice. She gave him a smirk that didn't reach her eyes.

"When have I not."

Before Luke could respond the sound of clapping filled the air

"Oh. My. Goodness! Add caring to the list, too. You all really are just the perfect friends. Oh I can't wait for you to bond with my children!"

She carried on, gesticulating wildly. "Oh you'll have sleepovers and breakfast for dinner and so, so, much, fun!"

Thalia shifted her weight, gripping her spear with just one hand as she faced the monster down. "Sorry, but we aren't doing shit."

"Language," Luke chided, glancing meaningfully at the forest around them. "Not while she can hear."

Thalia rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She brushed her fingertips against a shiny silver bracelet on her free hand and said, "Aegis."

In seconds a large circular shield had formed in the bracelet's place and I – unfortunately – got a good long look at it. To describe the face on it as ugly would be like describing Gabe Ugliano as unpleasant, or the ocean as deep. It was so horrible to look at that I took a physical step backwards, almost tripping out of my hiding spot in the process.

And that was only the side-view. The monster had no such luxury. The smile that had grown onto her face disappeared in favor of a sharp grimace.

"Oh put that thing away," she said. "Children shouldn't be playing with such unsavory items. You'll spoil your appetite."

Thalia didn't put it away, she charged.

The Monster was no slower than when she dealt with Luke, but this time was different. Thalia had seen what would happen if she over extended and she refused to leave any gaps. A low slash met her shield and skidded off. The follow up was cut short as her spear stabbed forward, forcing the monster to parry it. I could've sworn I saw a flash of blue energy crackling around the attack, but I chalked it down to the speed the weapon was moving at.

The fight was mesmerizing to watch, raw speed versus technique. Thalia seemed to be holding the upper hand, but she couldn't make it count. Every time she looked set to make a Snake-kebab of her opponent the monster would find a way to slip away in the nick of time. It was as if she could see her attacks coming somehow.

I was just getting sucked into watching when I heard a noise behind me – the snap of a fallen branch being stepped on. I spun just in time to catch a face full of blond hair and a hard hit to the jaw.

My attacker and I fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and my sword landed a few feet away, out of reach. For a moment I was absolutely certain I was done for, that a monster had gotten drop on me and without my weapon I'd be helpless to stop them.

Then I noticed something. The growling figure on top of me was actually smaller than me. I had a chance. The return of hope gave me energy and, one leaf filled wrestling match later, I managed to shove them away and scramble over to my sword, holding it between us to discourage a follow up assault. I took the chance to catch my breath and got my first real look at the sneak attacker.

She looked surprisingly human, about my age and a few inches shorter. The long blond hair I'd gotten a mouthful of had more than a few leaves mixed into it after our tussle on the forest floor. Eyes the color of thunderclouds glared at me, grey and dark. Her left hand was clenched around something, holding it tight, while her right scooped up a long bronze knife from the ground.

It seemed I wasn't the only one who dropped a weapon when we collided. Given the murderous look on her face, I counted my blessings for that. It didn't seem like a question of if she would've stabbed me, but where.

We stared each other down, neither of us moving. It was tensest awkward silence I'd ever been a part of. Like when a teacher paired you with a complete stranger for a project but add in the possibility of an imminent fight to the death.

Finally, I had enough. "Who are you?"

She cocked her head. "I don't answer monsters."

I coughed incredulously. "I'm a monster? Are you forgetting the part where you attacked me?"

"Please," she said. "I saw you skulking around, waiting to attack them from behind. Your type can't fool me."

"I was just watching," I argued. "You know, trying to figure out what the hell was going on? That doesn't give you the right to attack me!"

"You were so creepy though!" She pantomimed leaning out from behind something, furrowing her eyebrows suspiciously.

"I did not look like that."

"Yes, you di-"

"I didn't," I cut her off. "But even if I did, that doesn't mean you can freaking tackle me!"

She blushed and looked down but refused to give up. "You did hit me in the head," she muttered, pointing to a growing bruise on above her eyes.

"You headbutted me!"

Before we could get any further a crack echoed behind us, and the forest flashed white. A smell like burning rubber hit my nose.

"Youuuuu," the monster's voice wailed. "You're his child!"

I chanced a look over my shoulder and found Thalia standing a few feet back, spear aimed like a canon. The monster's whole left arm was charred and black.

"The shield is an imitation of his. And your attacks, they had a charge to them, didn't they? But now there's no doubt. You're his child." Any remaining good humor was now long gone from her warped face. "Why are you alive?"

Thalia hummed. "Guess I'll need to up the voltage…"

"Answer the question!"

With that scream the monster lunged forward, going back on the attack. The blond girl beside me seemed to only have eyes for their fight now, watching with rapt attention.

At first, I thought the charge was suicide. Thalia almost ended the fight so many times before that I didn't see how she could lose. Given that one of the monster's arms now looked fresh out of the oven, I expected it to be over in seconds.

It wasn't. As I watched Thalia barely blocked a swipe at her face before taking a shallow cut to the side, unable to lower her shield in time. She was being pushed back, taking small hits as she went – nothing debilitating, but enough to start adding up.

It wasn't that the monster had gotten faster or stronger. No, she'd simply become erratic. Every attack was wild and random, no thought or planning behind any of them. And it was working. Thalia couldn't predict where the next attack would come from because even attacker herself didn't know.

The entire time the monster chanted her question, over and over.

"Why are you alive? Why are you alive? Why are you alive?"

Finally, something gave. An overhead strike was caught by Thalia's shield, but there was too much force behind it. The teenager was forced to her knees as her shield snapped to the side with a sound that didn't bode well for the arm underneath it.

"Do you know who I am?" the monster breathed, eyes staring wide and unblinking. "I'm Lamia. I was – am – a queen, even if my kingdom has faded, and even Zeus himself loved me. He told me so in person, just before our children were born."

Thalia tried to stand but Lamia placed a claw on her throat in warning. On the other side of the clearing Luke froze, two steps into a rush to his friend.

"He said he would always be there for us!" Lamia yelled. Her voice was hoarse with anger. "He promised, gave his word. But where was he when his wife struck in the night? Nowhere to be seen, cowering like a dog in his palace!"

The previously clear sky rumbled, but Lamia just glared up at it. "I know you can hear me!" she yelled, before looking back down at Thalia and carrying on as if she hadn't been interrupted.

"They were his children, just like you, and he watched on, safe in his high palace, as they were cut down in the night. As I, who had given him only love, lost not only my family but the ability to sleep, forced to relive those terrible moments over and over and over again."

Her lips twisted into a cutting smile as she said, "But do not worry, he was not without mercy. Two gifts, I received: the ability to remove my eyes," she gestured to her empty socket, "and a talent for prophecy. Because who needs sleep when you can render yourself blind, and what does being miserable in present matter when I can glimpse an equally miserable future."

Eying the claw on her neck, Thalia spoke carefully; "That's terrible. I'm sorry for your loss."

"If you understand," Lamia said, "then answer the question. Why are you alive while they aren't!"

"Because…nobody's killed me yet?"

"But why?!" Lamia grabbed her by the throat and hoisted her into the air. "It isn't right, tell me why!"

Suddenly the blond girl rushed past me, making a beeline for the clearing. My hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding her back, and she whirled towards me.

Her eyes were angry, but I could see tears forming in the corners. "Let go! I have to help her!"

"By what, charging in headfirst? That's only going to make things worse."

Believe me, I added in my head. I would know.

She yanked her arm away but didn't resume her charge.

"I have to do something," she said. "I can't just hide while my friends are hurt."

"I'm not saying that," I said. "But at least, y'know, attack from behind? You'll just make things worse if she sees you coming."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Coming from behind her isn't going to do anything, idiot. She can see the future. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"What? So she can like, tell what I'll have for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Of course not. That's not how prophecies work, they only show flashes. For Lamia it must be a few seconds into the future – she keeps dodging attacks before they happen."

"Wow. That doesn't seem fair," I said. "But if she can see what's coming, why is she getting hit at all? Shouldn't she be able to dodge everything?"

"She would if she had both eyes," the girl said. "We got lucky. When we ran into her she had them out. She only managed to get one in when the fight started."

"That's…good," I said. "What happened to the other one?"

"Luke stole it. He tossed it to me, told me to keep it away from her."

She opened her clenched hand and revealed a gooey eyeball resting in her palm, much to my disgust.

"You were holding that the whole time?" I asked. "Even when you jumped on me?"

She nodded impatiently.

"Wow, that is so gro-"

"Do you have a plan?" she interrupted. "Because if you don't, I'm going to help my friends. Now."

Unfortunately, I really didn't. Just because I could tell her idea was bad didn't mean I had any good ones of my own. But as I thought about it, something did spring to mind.

Was it simple? Definitely. stupid? Possibly. But that didn't mean it couldn't work.

"She'll be hard to beat while she still has an eye, right?"

The girl nodded.

"So the two things we need to do, are getting her away from Thalia and getting her other eye, right?"

"Get on with it."

"Great. Then all I need you to do is keep that eye away from her," I pointed to the one in the girl's hand, "and, when she's distracted, grab your friend and drag her out of there."

She looked at me dubiously. "That's it?"

"Well, one more thing," I said. "If we're going to do this, what's your name?"

She still didn't look convinced by my sales pitch, but she sighed and said, "Annabeth."

I grinned. "I'm Percy."

And then I sprinted into the clearing, straight at Lamia.

Behind me Annabeth shouted in surprise as I did exactly what I'd stopped her from doing, but I didn't stop. I broke through the tree line and shouted, "Hey, tall and scaly! Over here!"

Two and a half pairs of eyes locked onto me, all of them confused at my sudden appearance. I skid to a halt, a dozen feet from Lamia and her captive audience, and spread my arms wide.

"I heard you like eating kids. Well here I am, one grade-a delivery of top-quality kid. Come and get it…unless you're too chicken!"

Unfortunately, my taunt didn't work as well as I'd hoped it would. Lamia waved her hand in a shoeing gesture. "This isn't the time, child. Can't you see I'm asking your friend an important question? Be a dear and wait your turn, or…" She rubbed a claw horizontally across Thalia's throat, acting out her threat, and I swallowed. Time to take some risks.

"My friend?" I laughed. "I've never met any of these guys before. Why should I care what happens to her?"

"Of course," Lamia said, her voice bored. "You're just a random half-blood, out for a nightly stroll. Please, if you're going to interrupt me, at least do not insult my intelligence as you do it."

Luke had been staring at me with furrowed eyebrows but now his eyes widened, understanding flashing in them. He winked at me and mouthed I got this.

"He's telling the truth," Luke said. "I've never seen him before. I swear it on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed in the sky and the monster looked back at me. "Truly? How strange." Her tongue flicked out, its forked tip tasting the air in my direction.

"Get it now?" I asked. "These guys are strangers. I don't care what happens to them in the slightest, I only have eyes for you."

Luke choked. "Uh, kid? Might want to drop that saying for a few years, at least until you understand it," he said, but I ignored him. I was gauging Lamia's reaction, seeing if I'd done enough.

But while the snake woman looked more interested than before, she didn't take the bait. "Friend or not, you can still wait your turn," she said.

No! I needed to drop Thalia, but she just wouldn't do it. I had to get her attention, all of it, and fast, before she did something drastic. But what could…

Oh. Yeah, that would probably do it.

I muttered a brief prayer to gods know who that this wouldn't get me killed and opened my big mouth.

"Your kids hate you," I said. Immediately her head whipped toward me, and I pressed on. "I mean, you just send any old kid you run across down to be friends with them, and you have been for, what, a few thousand years? I'd be sick to death of it if I was them."

She snarled. "You would do well not to speak on matters of which you know nothing, boy."

"I don't know, I think I know everything I need to." Time for the ringer. "Honestly, even Hera is a better mother than you."

The wail that tore from her throat was horrible, somewhere between a fire alarm and a cat whose tail had just stepped on but twice as loud as the both of them put together. The good news was that she did exactly what I wanted, dropping Thalia to the ground. Annabeth was there immediately, darting in and pulling her friend to safety. The bad news was that, well, she did exactly what I wanted, that being charging me at full speed.

In the seconds I had to prepare myself I took a deep breath and readied my arm. Annabeth had said Lamia's predictions were limited to just a few seconds. If she'd been wrong, if it was longer…

I'd be screwed. But there was no point in thinking about that now. I just had to do my part, and hope the rest went my way.

Lamia seemed a lot bigger now that she was bearing down on me. A lot scarier, too. But as she entered striking range, claws drawn back to slice me end from end, I did the last thing anyone expected me to.

I jumped straight at her, left arm reaching forward.

I could see the exact moment she realized what I was about to do. About a second before I kicked off the ground her eyes widened, and a hand came up to block me. Her extended claws would slice my hand to shreds before it ever got close to her face.

I also saw the exact moment she realized she'd been had. Disbelief slipped onto her face. Her mouth opened and began a scream of denial. But it was too late: there was no time for her to adjust as her claws bounced off my metal arm, doing nothing to stop its momentum.

With a grunt of mixed triumph and disgust, my celestial bronze hand plucked her sole eye out of her face.

I didn't have long to celebrate a successful plan. The moment she lost her sight Lamia began thrashing desperately, like a six-hundred-pound toddler throwing a tantrum. A backhand caught me in the chest and (for the second time that day) sent me flying.

"No," Lamia sobbed. "Not like this. This can't happen. Don't worry kids, mommy will pull through! I'll find a way to send you friends. I'll do anything to keep you from being bored!"

But for all her promises she was helpless. I sat up from my spot on the ground and watch her slash at empty air, desperate for a lucky hit on a target nowhere near her. It was kinda sad, even if she was a monster. When Thalia's spear sprouted from her chest and put the little show to an end, I was glad. And not just because it meant she wasn't a threat anymore.

But even impaled, the monster managed to croak out her final words.

"He won't save you," she said. "Zeus says he cares, but at the end of the day we are nothing to him. Me, my children, you…he'll cast us off without a second thought."

Thalia twisted her spear. "I thought you couldn't see the future without your eyes."

Lamia laughed. "I don't need a prophecy for this, girl. Experience is enough."

And with that she crumbled to dust, the eye in my hand disintegrating with her.

"So," Luke said in the sudden silence. "Do you make a habit of popping up in the middle of nowhere and risking your life for strangers? Because if so, that's a hell of a job."

I shook my head but couldn't keep a smile off my face. The friendliness in his voice was infectious. "Only on Thursdays."

"You picked a strange time then," he said. "Today's a Tuesday."

"Guess I'm running late," I said, climbing to my feet as he walked over and held out his hand. I took it. "Percy."

"Great to meet you, Percy. I'm Luke, spear girl over there is Thalia, and that little spitfire is Annabeth."

"Spear girl? Really?" Thalia asked. Then she turned to me. "Thanks for the save. I'd shake your hand too, but I think my arm's broken. We'll get to it later; I'll even give you a coupon, so I don't forget."

"Cool," I said, not sure what else to say to that.

"Say, Percy?" Luke spoke up. "You mind doing me a favor."

I was pretty sure I just had, but I nodded anyway.

"Great. Mind carrying me to our camp? I'm going to pass out right about…now."

Then he fell forward. Right on top of me.

Chapter Text

Six

I Dream of Old Ladies

Their camp was nicer than I expected. There was a small fire pit with three faded lawn chairs sitting around it, two of which Thalia and I settled into. Luke had been laid down inside a messy but comfy-looking shelter made from wooden boards and tarps, still out cold. Annabeth had disappeared inside too as soon as she'd helped Thalia set her arm, muttering that she'd look after him.

"So," Thalia said. She had a cup of something golden, but I hadn't stopped to ask what. "You ran away from giants, found a goat, and followed that goat to us?"

I nodded. "I know it sounds crazy."

She laughed and took a swig of her drink. "Not really. You should hear the things we've seen. And I think I know the goat. Brown and white? Different drinks written on her utter?"

"Actually, yea."

"That's Amalthea. She's an…ally, I guess. Led me to Luke and my shield. She kind of works from my dad."

"And who's your dad?" I asked. "I mean if you don't mind saying."

I was pretty sure I knew. Lamia hadn't left much to the imagination. You're his child she'd said. Just like her own children.

But I remembered what Daedalus said, too. All of the Big Three had sworn not to have any more kids. That was why Zeus tried to kill me.

That was why my mom had died.

"Zeus," Thalia confirmed. "King of the gods."

The look on her face said she didn't think all that much of the title, but I was too busy with my own feelings to pay much attention to hers. I hadn't thought I could get moreupset at the guy who got my mom killed, but I'd been wrong.

I did my best to keep my anger off my face – It wasn't Thalia's fault that her dad was the world's biggest hypocrite – but oh boy, did it get my blood boiling.

"-out you?"

I caught the last bit of Thalia's question and forced myself back down to earth. "Come again?"

"What about you? As in, who's your parent?"

I opened my mouth, then stopped. That probably wasn't something I should be volunteering.

"I don't know," I settled on. I never was a good liar though, and my voice cracked as I said it. Thankfully Thalia took my nerves for something else.

"No need to be embarrassed about it," she said. "Plenty of kids don't know. Honestly, it might be better that way."

"What do you mean?" I asked, but she waved me off.

"Don't worry about it. The important part is that not knowing isn't a problem."

We lapsed into silence that should've been awkward but wasn't. Risking your life with someone had a way of breaking the ice. I'd make sure to pass the info on to my next school– If I ever got around to attending one.

"That's your weapon, right?" Thalia said eventually, nodding to where I was absently spinning Aelia between my fingers. The mechanical pencil gleamed in the firelight, its bronze glow standing out against my skin.

"Yeah," I said. "It's pretty great."

She grinned. "Kickass is the word I'd use. Just don't tell Luke. He's been getting on me to cut out the swearing."

"I can do that."

Her grin widened. "We'll get along great you and I." She set down her drink and picked up a cannister of mace from beside her, tapping the side of it. "My spear turns into this, but you win for convenience. Turns out mortals are only slightlyless concerned about a teenager with pepper spray than a teenager with a spear. Go figure."

"Hey," I said. "At least yours is cooler."

"I'd take not being harassed by nosy police officers over that any day."

I looked down at my weapon and reminded myself to never take it for granted. It really was, well, kickass.

"So," Thalia started, and I looked up again. Her face had gone dead serious. "We're friends now, right?"

"I mean, I guess so?"

"Great." She nodded like I'd agreed wholeheartedly. "And friends share things with each other, right?"

She was kind of freaking me out. "Yes?"

Had she guessed who my dad was? Was she going to attack–

"What is your hand and where can I get one."

"Huh?"

"It's celestial bronze, isn't it? Didn't even dent when Lamia hit you. And I've watched you moving it. The mobility is fantastic." Her eyes shone. "I want one."

I was saved from having to figure out just how to answer that by a new voice.

"Thalia, you're scaring the kid," Luke called, stepping out of the shelter. His hair was still disheveled and his skin was still pale, but he had enough energy to grin at us. He stumbled over to the fire, waving Thalia off when she moved to help him, and settled onto the empty chair.

"Where's Annabeth?" Thalia asked.

"Passed out. The long day caught up with her." They shared a smile at that, and Luke leaned forward. "So, what'd I miss?"

Thalia gave him a summary. When she finished, I could feel Luke's attention on me. "So no idea on your parent, huh?"

I nodded.

"Perfect."

That wasn't what I expected to hear, and it must've shown because he quickly explained.

"This way we can guess at it. Whoever gets it right can feel good about themselves. Every demigod has traits, certain quirks related to their parent. They're great hints. Like your glove- did you make it?

"What glove?"

"The one you used earlier, that you grabbed Lamia's eye with. You're still wearing it now."

I stared at him. "You mean my hand?"

He shook his head. "No, I mean whatever you have covering it."

I held the appendage up in the firelight, pulling the slashed remains of my sleeve out of the way. "This is my hand." I looked at Thalia. "Didn't you know? You said you wanted one."

She held her hands up, looking slightly pale. "Hey, I'm with him. I assumed it was armor."

The two older demigods met each other's eyes, and I got the sense that a whole conversation passed between them silently. When Luke spoke next, his voice sounded carefully cheerful.

"Well, did you make the hand?" He asked.

"No, I uh- I woke up with it." Technically, it wasn't a lie.

Thalia, who had traded her weapon back out for her drink, said, "Hephaestus," and took a sip.

Luke swiped the drink and took a sip himself, ignoring the glare he earned. "He just said he didn't make it."

Another swipe and the drink was back with Thalia. "Just because he didn't make it doesn't mean it wasn't made, genius. Think about it, what other god would give a magical prosthetic as a gift."

Swipe. Sip. "That's a stretch. I'm thinking a minor goddess. Nemesis, maybe?"

Swipe. Sip. "You're making things up now because you know I'm right. It's not only his hand. He has a collapsible weapon, too."

Swipe. Sip. "So do you. Are you a child of Hephaestus?"

It was like watching a tennis rally. Back and forth, back and forth, until Luke tipped back the drink and nothing came out. He looked at the drained cup and frowned.

"That was our last batch of Nectar."

Thalia winced, rubbing her bad arm. "Ambrosia?"

"One square left, I think. Back in the tent." Luke eyed her worriedly. "But wait on it, won't you? I don't want you overdoing it."

Thalia rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, worrywart," but I noticed she didn't argue.

"The food is running low too," Luke said after a beat. "We're going to have to move again soon."

He said move the way I'd say homework: like it was the worst thing in the world.

Thalia nodded, but she didn't look much happier about it. "Where're you thinking? Philadelphia?"

"No, too far. The one outside Greensburg. Near Pittsburg."

"The what near where?" I said, trying to follow the conversation.

They looked at each other again, another of those silent conversations. Finally Luke broke the silence.

"Camps," he said. "Like this one. We try and make them when we can, and we've been traveling for a while. Say, Percy, do you have family somewhere around here?"

"Not anymore," I said.

He looked sad, but not surprised. "Well, you can always come with us if you want. We only picked up Annabeth about a month ago, no reason to turn down one more."

I wasn't sure what to say. Just because I didn't have family didn't mean I had nowhere to go. Daedalus was waiting for me if I could just get back to him.

But I had a problem. I'd been too busy running for my life to notice earlier, but I'd lost my backpack. It was somewhere down in the Labyrinth, Ariadne's string with it. Without that, finding my way back to Daedalus' workshop was about as likely as winning the lottery twice in a row.

"Sure," I said. "I mean yes, thank you."

Luke ruffled my hair. "Awesome. Don't worry, you'll love it."

"Totally," Thalia said. "Even Luke grows on you. From annoying to tolerable."

They both looked so welcoming that I felt kind of bad, like I was lying to them. They thought I had nowhere else to go when I actually did. I'd just left it behind like an idiot.

But the guilt didn't last long. Luke got started telling stories about the things they'd seen and done, from facing down dragons to running over snake-women with golf carts. Thalia would interject periodically, whenever she saw a chance to correct or insult him. It all felt so natural that it was hard not to get sucked in. Before I knew it the fire was running low and my eyes were drooping.

"You should head in and get some sleep," Luke said to me after a particularly large yawn. "We'll be on the move tomorrow, so this may be your best chance. Thalia and I can keep watch."

"Thalia can keep watch," the daughter of Zeus corrected. "Don't think I've forgotten your shoulder." Luke looked like he wanted to argue, but she cut him off. "This isn't up for debate. You can take tomorrow night. For now, you sleep."

Luke sighed and stood up. "Alright. But if it gets too hard wake me up."

Thalia shewed us away with her hands and I followed Luke to the tent, muttering good night. The last thing I heard before slipping under the flap was Thalia muttering under her breath:

"Is it bad if I still want one of those hands?"

Falling asleep was easy. Resting wasn't.

The moment my eyes closed I was somewhere else, a quiet street in the early morning. Rows of streetlights lined the edges but most of them were flickering or burned out. On one side was a dark, dense forest. On the other was a block of houses that looked like they'd seen better days. Windows were bashed in. Fallen boards lay haphazardly in the yards. On the porch of one, a two-story with faded blue paint, a figure was sat.

She looked like a math teacher dressed as a biker. Stringy grey hair stretched down to brush against a leather jacket emblazoned with skulls. On her feet were immaculate dress shoes, and on her hands were fingerless gloves. Every last bit of her outfit was leather, from head to toe. As I watched her gaze shifted from the sky to my direction, and I started. Her eyes were blood red.

"Have you found them?" She said, voice surprisingly silky. Another voice sounded from behind my back.

"Not yet."

I spun and found another woman striding out of the forest, seemingly appearing from a shadow. This one had the same grey hair but wore a low-cut leather dress that gave a great view of her car-seat-like skin. The only thing the two women had in common was the same crimson eyes, but for some reason I could see a resemblance.

The one on the porch tsked and stood. "We don't have much time you know. Or are you alright with Alecto stealing the spotlight again, Megaera?"

Leather dress bristled. "If you're so worried about time, Tisiphone, then maybe you should do your share of the work rather than lounging around."

"And demote myself to a common bloodhound?" Tisiphone sniffed and straightened her jacket. "I think not. That is what the hounds are for."

"You always were the lazy sister. Maybe that's why you're the third-favorite."

"And you think that staying busy will make up for your incompetence. Between us, sister, it is not you that Hades favors."

The two were nose-to-nose now. They looked ready to tear into each other at any second, and they might've if a third voice hadn't broken in.

"Calm down you two. Now is not the time for discord." It was another woman with the same eyes, this one wearing a plaid dress with her hair styled into a bun. The most impressive thing about her entrance was that she was sat atop the flickering streetlight, legs dangling beneath her.

"Besides," she carried on. "What matters is who's Hades' favorite. And that–" she smiled wickedly "–Well, we all know who that is, don't we."

"Alecto," Megaera greeted tightly. "Why are you here?"

"A sister can't check on her siblings' progress?" Alecto cackled. "Or is it about your little plot to replace me? Good luck with that. You'll need it."

She stood and two wings sprouted from her back. For a second I thought she was a Harpy, but the wings were all wrong: skin instead of feathers; black instead of brown.

"Oh, right." Alecto touched a finger to her lips. "Silly me. I remember what I was here for. The girl is on the East Coast. If you try your hardest who knows, you may even find her within a day of me."

And with that, she beat her wings and took off into the sky. Her sisters watched her go.

"Bitch," said Tisiphone. I saw Megaera nod and then the scene blurred out of focus, like a reflection in choppy water. When my vision cleared I was in a very different, much more familiar setting.

The dingy room that had been Steve's restaurant was around me. One wall had a few new dents, and the picnic table had been squashed flat, but other than that it was identical to when I'd been there.

The giant himself was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a much more average-sized man stood in the room. He had a hood on and his back to me, but XXXL black mastiff at his side pretty was a pretty good clue to his identity.

"So this is the spot, girl?" Daedalus said. Mrs. O'Leary barked loudly enough to shake the walls, but Daedalus only sighed. He scooped something up off the ground, and I recognized my lost bag.

"Well," he said. "This is a problem."

Before I could even think about trying to get his attention – not that I had any idea where to start – the scene faded out like the one before it. This time when my vision cleared the only view I had was of a tarp roof.

I sat up, not feeling as refreshed as I should have, and glanced left and right. The tent was empty except for me.

I wasn't sure what had just happened. Those dreams hadn't felt like dreams. More like visions.

But that was impossible, right?

A shadow appeared over the tent flap and Luke's face poked through, heading off any further thoughts. When he spotted me sitting up, he grinned.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. I'd say good morning, but good afternoon may be more appropriate."

"Sorry," I said, but he waved me off.

"Don't worry about it. If we needed you up, we'd have woken you. Now come on, we have breakfast."

It was as if those words lit a fire in my stomach. I hadn't eaten since leaving the workshop, and I could feel it. I practically bolted from the tent– and promptly tripped on its lip, faceplanting.

"Careful." Luke chuckled, helping me to my feet. "I'd think you were hungry."

"It's just my foot," I muttered, blushing. "I'm still clumsy with it."

"What do you me–" Luke started to ask, before cutting off. His eyes settled on my metal hand, then my foot, realization dawning. "Oh. So it's, you know…"

"A prosthetic too? Yeah."

His voice sounded a bit uncertain, but he patted my shoulder and told me, "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."

We walked over to the campfire which now lay burned out. Luke hadn't been exaggerating, the sun was already high in the sky heating the humid air. Thalia and Annabeth were sat in two of the lawn chairs, and they looked up as we approached.

Annabeth's grey eyes were serious, almost annoyed as she watched me. Like I was a math problem she couldn't quite solve. I greeted her with a nod, and she nodded back, but the look didn't fade

"He awakens," Thalia said. She held up a Safeway bag. "Bagel?"

I nodded and she reached in and tossed me one. I caught it and bit in with relish. Room temperature bread never tasted so good.

"When was the last time you ate?" Thalia asked as I wolfed the bagel down.

"Yesterday, I think. Maybe the day before. I was pretty busy."

She looked like she understood that all too well.

"Hm," Luke said glancing around. "We're a chair short."

There were only three of them, and four of us.

"I can sit on the ground," I offered.

"Not a chance," he said. "Take the free one. I've got a seat right here."

He dropped into Annabeth's chair, squashing in beside her. Sizing me up quickly became the last of the girl's worries as she squeaked and went redder than a tomato, wiggling as far to the edge of the seat as she could without falling off. I took the empty seat with a lot less fanfare.

I watched Luke and Thalia laugh at the girl's predicament. Listened as they teased each other. It was peaceful. Fun, even. But I got the feeling that it couldn't last.

And at that thought, for some reason, a pair of blood-red eyes flashed through my mind.

Chapter Text

Seven

Loud Owls and Misbehaving Doggies

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and a snake woman was tied up in front of me hurling non-stop profanities in ancient Greek. So, you know, a Thursday

"Alright Percy," Thalia called over to me. She was stood a distance away, holding the end of the rope that the monster was bound with. "What's rule number one?"

For what felt like the thousandth time but was probably only the hundredth, I said, "Never take my eyes off the enemy."

She nodded. "And rule two?"

"Remember what you taught me."

"Which is?"

I readjusted my grip on my spear impatiently. "Stay light on my feet, use my range, and focus on accuracy. Can we start already?"

She wasn't moved. "Not until I hear rule three from you."

"If it gets at all dangerous, run and let you take care of it," I said. "I know the rules. Come on, let's do this."

"Right," Thalia said. She nodded her head once. Then she nodded it again. "Right. Here it comes." Her grip on the rope loosened, the snake woman perked up… And her hands tightened once more. "Maybe we should go over the rules one more time. Just to be safe."

"Thalia," I complained. She'd been teaching me to use a spear for almost two weeks, and in that time she'd already pushed back my first test against a live monster twice. I was determined not to let her make it a third. "I need to do this. If I don't, I won't get better."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." She shook her head, trying to steel her nerves. I'd seen her face down giants and laugh off killer birds, but the thought of me facing a bound monster was enough to leave her pale and shaky. I couldn't make sense of it.

But finally her hesitation seemed to run out. She met my eyes, and once she was certain I was focused, dropped the rope. The monster lurched toward me the moment it could, baring its fangs.

A Dracaena, Thalia had called it, half woman and half snake like Lamia. Unlike Lamia the Dracaena had two tails instead of one, a few less feet of height, and a hell of a lot less intimidation factor. With its hands bound at its sides I could barely take it seriously.

The Dracaena lunged. I stabbed. And the monster dissolved to dust with one final curse.

"That wasn't so bad," Thalia said, smiling tentatively. She looked like she'd just passed her driver's test.

"Shouldn't that be my line?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah I guess so."

I gave her a weird look. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked. One eyebrow arched challengingly. That was the most like herself she'd been in the last hour, so I let the topic drop.

Instead I shook my spear to ditch the accumulated monster dust before spinning it around so that the point was facing the ground. Two taps later it was a mechanical pencil in my hand, which I slipped into my pocket. When I turned I found Thalia looking on appreciatively.

"I'd still love to check that weapon out sometime," she said. "You know, hands on…"

I shook my head as we started in the direction of our temporary camp. "It's too dangerous. It–"

"Could suck out my soul. I know, you said. Very scary.

We walked a few steps in silence.

"I'd be careful, though."

"Thalia, no."

She sighed. "I'll wear you down eventually."

Up ahead our camp came into sight. It wasn't much to look at: a few ratty sleeping bags and old food wrappers stuffed up under a bushy oak tree. Compared to the permanent shelter we'd slept in the first night it was somewhat depressing, but it got the job done. Besides, it was the best we could do while on the move. There wasn't the money for a five-star hotel laying around– or even a two-star one, for that matter.

Luke and Annabeth were already there, munching away on a thrown-together lunch, leaning against the tree's wide trunk. They'd been training too; you could see it in the bruises and dried sweat on them. Or on Annabeth, at least. Luke looked like he always did, but that was normal so long as he wasn't fighting Thalia.

"Food," Luke called over when he saw us. An array of open cans sat in front of him. "We have beans, some more beans, and ham. A meal fit for the gods."

Thalia and I each grabbed a can and a fork, settling in to eat. It tasted vaguely like rust, but I was too hungry to care.

"So," Luke started, finishing his beans and dropping the empty can without a second thought. "Did the training go well?"

"Percy killed the Dracaena we caught last night," Thalia told him. "In a few seconds, too."

"I told you keeping one alive would come in handy." He gave me a thumbs up. "We'll make a fighter out of you yet. Even more than you already are, I mean."

"Its hands were still tied," I mumbled, blushing. "You guys did all the work capturing it."

"Don't give me that," he told me. "You did the important bit. I won't hear anything else."

Embarrassed and eager to change the subject, I asked Annabeth, "Did your training go well?"

She just stared at me at first, like she was trying to puzzle out what nefarious motive my question hid. She did that a lot with me. Unfortunately for her, the effect was ruined this time by a stray bean that had found its way onto her cheek. "It was successful," she finally said.

I nodded. "That's…good?"

"Yes," she said. "It is."

Then Luke wiped the bean off her cheek. She eeped and scrambled away, cupping a hand to her face. So much for serious and composed.

"What was that for?" she complained.

"Fun," he said. "Now come back here. I didn't get all of it."

The conversation sunk into jokes and name-calling. I let the words wash over, my thoughts turning elsewhere.

By all accounts, things had been going pretty good. I hadn't had any strange dreams since the first night, and none of the monsters we'd run into were anywhere near as dangerous as Lamia. Certainly not enough to give Thalia or Luke problems. We'd even made good time, covering most of Pennsylvania through a combination of scrounged-up bus tickets, hitch-hiking, and good old-fashioned walking. Greensburg, the town with the camp we were making for, was only a day or two away now tops.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.

A bird caught my attention as it flew down and landed in a nearby tree. That itself wouldn't have been unusual, but this wasn't just any bird.

It was an owl. A fluffy, brown one, with two tufts sticking up above the eyes like the eyebrows on an angry cartoon character. The owl cocked its head, its wide pupils sliding over me before coming to rest on Thalia.

"Guys," I said, pointing to the bird. "Is that normal?"

The others looked to where I was pointing. The owl cocked its head even further.

"It's a bird, Percy," said Thalia. "What wouldn't be normal about it?"

"But it's an owl. Don't they only do things at night? I thought that was their whole thing."

Thalia shrugged. "I guess it got up early. Or went to bed late. Either way, so what?"

"No, he's right," Annabeth said. I wasn't sure which surprised me more: that she was agreeing with me, or that she looked almost…scared? "It's a screech owl. They don't move during the day. Ever. Something's wrong."

Luke smiled. "Come on, we're overthinking things. If it were a monster it would've attacked by now. Just ignore it." But I noticed that despite what he said, he scooted his sword a little closer to himself.

The conversation moved on, but I couldn't. I kept my eyes on the owl, and the longer I did the more certain I became that something wasn't right. It was too focused for one thing. Its eyes were stuck wide-open and glued to Thalia as if she were a mouse scurrying through some tall grass. And it was too alert. It hadn't even blinked since I saw it.

All of which meant I was the first to notice when it opened its beak- not that I had any way of expecting what was about to come.

Annabeth had called it a screech owl, and that's exactly what it did, just a thousand times louder than should've been possible. The noise itself was like a dying door hinge, and the volume had me desperately pressing my hands to my ears trying not to go deaf. Thalia fumbled for her spear, lips were moving nonstop. The owl must've been censoring the harshest stream of profanities the world had ever heard.

Finally, after what felt like hours, a bolt of lightning from Thalia's spear nailed the tree, forcing the bird to take off. And, mercifully, to shut up. The owl flew in one lazy arc above our heads then flapped off, heading West.

I saw Luke's lips move but couldn't hear a word. Thalia and Annabeth must've been in the same boat because they didn't answer either. We just sat there, looking around frantically to make sure it was over.

"What," Thalia said once our ability to hear had faded back in, "was that?"

"That'swhat screech owls sound like," Annabeth said. "But they shouldn't be so, well, loud."

"And then it just…left," I added. "No becoming giant and attacking, no trying to peck our eyes out. It just screamed, and that was it."

None of us could explain it. The experience was just strange, even for demigods. And painful.

"We should move," Thalia said. She was still glancing this way and that, waiting for a follow-up assault on more than just our ears. "I don't know what that was, and I don't feel like sticking around and finding out."

That was an idea I could get behind. The upside of a ratty camp is that it can be packed up as quickly as you want. Within half an hour we were stood on the side of the road with everything loaded into backpacks, trudging along with our thumbs up.

Unsurprisingly no one stopped for us, but that was fine. Walking was good by me so long as way-too-loud owls were nowhere to be seen.

For the next week, things returned to normal. Or as normal as life got for four traveling demigods, by which I mean no more screaming owls and nothing too dangerous attempting to make us its snack.

We reached the permanent camp on the third day, this one made of interwoven plants. When I first saw it I asked if it would stay up when it was windy. Annabeth told me it was a Native American design. I repeated my question, and she called me stupid. I took that as a yes.

I had a few strange dreams, but all of them were short ones. Just snippets really. One time I saw a whole group of owls, just like the one that'd screamed at us. They were flying as a pack over what looked like farmland, before splitting and going off in their own directions. Other times I saw the old women I'd dreamt of before. The biker and the one in the dress, Megaera and Tisiphone. Each time they were somewhere new: on top of the Statue of Liberty, in front of the Washington Monument, poking around New Orleans. Other times they were in the middle of nowhere, wandering over farmland or down the Main Street of a small town. Every time they were arguing.

"There has to be a better way," Tisiphone complained one of the times. She gestured to town around her. "Leather jackets were not made for humid summers."

"Then change!" Her sister snapped at her. "No one is forcing you to wear that hideous thing. Do you want to find the girl or not?"

"Hideous," Tisiphone mumbled. "My baby called hideous by the skank in an eyesore of a dress. Will the insults never cease?"

"Skank, is it? To hell with the girl, maybe I'll gut you instead."

But for all their threats, I never saw them fight. They'd always be distracted before it could get that far. One time, in the background, I could've sworn I saw a screech owl, but I chalked that up to my imagination.

We fell into a routine– training, eating, talking. Annabeth stayed fairly cold toward me, but even that I got used to. For five days things carried on like this until, one morning, the routine was broken by necessity. Supplies had run low, and Luke had headed into town with Annabeth to restock. By the time Thalia and I finished our training session and returned to camp, hours into the day, the two were still nowhere to be seen.

"They're still gone?" Thalia said. She frowned. "They left hours ago."

I shrugged. It seemed a little strange to me, but they'd done this a million times before. "Luke knows what he's doing," I said, hoping to reassure her.

She didn't answer, and I blinked.

"He does, doesn't he?"

Thalia sighed, long and tired. Like my old teacher used to when someone in the class did something especially bad– usually me. "I hope so, Percy," she said. "I really do."

I didn't know what to make of that. Thalia and Luke always seemed so confident and assured, in both themselves and each other. To be told, point blank, that she wasn't certain about him? It was pretty close to the last thing I expected.

"He used to," she carried on. "I trusted him with my life. I still do, it's just–"

Anything more was cut off by the sound of giggles and crunching leaves. Out of the woods, about twenty feet away, burst Annabeth and Luke. Twigs were stuck to their clothes and their faces were red with exertion, but they were grinning and laughing like kids in a candy shop.

"Hey!" Luke called, seeing me and Thalia. He looked thrilled, like he was riding an adrenaline rush. At his side, Annabeth pulled on his sleeve, giggling.

"Luke, show them what we got!"

He chuckled. "As you say, M'lady." He never stopped grinning, but something in his expression changed as he reached behind his back. It was hard to tell exactly what – the look in his eyes, maybe, or the slant of his lips – but whatever it was, I felt a chill run down my spine as he pulled out a crumpled paper bag.

"What is it?" Thalia asked. The way she said it made me think she'd noticed the shift too. It was hidden, but there was worry in her voice.

"Ta-da," Luke said, and he drew from the bag a thick wad of cold hard cash.

"We got so much," Annabeth said proudly. She still hadn't let go of Luke's shirt, which seemed to only be boosting her already good mood.

"Where did you get that?" Thalia asked.

Luke tossed the cash to her, and she caught it deftly, making sure none of the bills slipped to the ground. As Thalia began leafing through the money, Luke eased himself from Annabeth's grasp and strowed forward. "Come on," he said, "Let's just think of all the things we can do with this. Hells, we could get a hotel room! An actual roof over our heads for once!"

"Yeah," Thalia muttered, still counting. "Until they kick us out for being a bunch of dirty kids with no parents. Or worse, call someone on us."

"Please," Luke said. "If they start asking questions, we throw in an extra fifty. Problem solved."

"Or," I said, "they take the extra fifty and then call someone on us."

He turned to me. "Oh don't be such a pessimist. We can-"

"Seven-hundred and ninety dollars," Thalia cut him off. She was looking up now, her counting done, her eyes wide and dangerous. Blue pupils shone with the first hints of electricity. "Luke Castellan, where did you get this?"

Luke's good mood evaporated. "You know I don't like the last name, Thals. How would you like it if I called you Grace?"

Thalia didn't raise her voice, which is how I knew she was really pissed. "I'd accept it," she said, "if I did something this stupid. Where did you get the money, Luke?"

"So I did some stealing," he said. "No big deal for a son of Hermes like me, since you want to bring up parents."

It occurred to me that that was the first time I'd heard Luke mention his godly parent. Judging from the look on his face when he said it, I didn't think that was an accident.

"I don't have a problem with stealing," Thalia said. "We have to. But you don't get all this from shoplifting or picking a pocket." She walked toward him, one word after every step. "What. Did. You. Do."

Luke squared his shoulders. "So I busted open a cash register. Or two. Or three."

Thalia threw her arms up and turned away in disgust. "Great. Just great. Start packing, we need to be out of here before someone find us. We can't afford to be arrested–"

"Hold on," Luke said, grabbing hold of her shoulder. I half expected him to be zapped to a crisp just for that. He wasn't, but the glare Thalia fixed him with was so venomous that I wasn't sure he got off any lighter.

"You're mad," he said. "I get that. I understand. But isn't it about time we start taking risks? We live in the woods, barely owning a damn thing. We deserve better than this! Besides, we were careful."

"Totally careful," Annabeth chimed in, backing him up. "No one saw us. I stood guard."

"See?" Luke said. "We can enjoy this. Buy something nice for ourselves. It'll work out!"

He smiled hopefully, wishing Thalia to understand. Instead she wrenched her shoulder away from him and stuffed the bills into his outstretched hand.

"Next time you get a brilliant idea," she said, "run it by me first." And she stormed– literally, given the sparks fizzling around her – into the woods, stopping only to snatch her mace canister/spear along the way. I felt bad for the trees unfortunate enough to be in her path.

"She's angry with us," Annabeth said, watching her go.

"No," Luke corrected. "She's angry with me."

Annabeth didn't seem to find that idea very comforting. She frowned and said, "I don't want you two to fight."

"We aren't," Luke said. Annabeth fixed him with a deadpan stare, and he amended himself. "We won't be for long. She'll come around."

I noticed he said she and not we. I hadn't known her for nearly as long as he had, but it seemed very optimistic to expect Thalia to change her mind on any argument. Stubbornness was in her DNA.

Then Luke's attention turned to me, and a sense of awkwardness crept up my spine. I'd been hoping to stay out of this.

"You agree with me, right Percy?"

And there it was. The question I'd been hoping not to hear.

"That she'll change her mind?" I asked, trying to play dumb.

"That I was right to take something for once. That we shouldn't be so scared of risks."

"I don't know," I admitted. "But…I think that both are important. You can't be too safe, or you won't get anywhere. But if you take too many risks, you'll end up slipping eventually."

It sounded a lot better when I didn't mention that I was repeating my mom's advice on playing Chutes and Ladders, so I kept that bit to myself. Luke frowned but nodded. Annabeth just glared at me through his legs for daring to disagree with him.

Silence settled thickly in the air, and I had to resist the urge to fidget. It was worse than when my first-grade teacher had made us introduce ourselves in front of the class, one by one. I broke.

"I'll go check on Thalia," I blurted out. "Someone should."

Luke said "Sure," but I was already moving. I hurried away from the heavy atmosphere and into the woods.

I smelled Thalia before I saw her- a scent like burnt cookies that just kept getting stronger. The smell of bark being fried. Pretty soon I could follow the burnt patches and slashed limbs. There were more and more of them the further I went.

When I caught sight of her, she was laying into a scrawny cedar with a tall trunk and spindly limbs. Her spear was a blur. Over the crackling of electricity I could hear her muttering to herself.

"Stupid Luke… Stupid Hermes… Stupid burnt cookies…"

"Hey," I called, stopping a good distance away before getting her attention. I wasn't too keen on adding 'being skewered' to my day.

Sure enough, Thalia whipped around spear first, getting halfway through a stab before recognizing my voice and freezing. "Percy," she said stiffly. "You should go back. I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

I shifted my weight. "I think that means you probably should be talking."

Thalia didn't look convinced. "And…?" she prompted.

"And it was awkward back there," I admitted. "Really awkward. I'll take my chances out here."

That at least got a smile on her face. Not much of one, but it was there. "Fine, your honesty has won me over." She shrunk her spear and beckoned me closer. "Come on, let's walk."

For the first few minutes that's all we did. Just walk in silence, enjoying the scenery. Or in Thalia's case, probably cooling off.

"He wasn't always like this."

I started, looking away from where I'd been watching a pair of chirping bluebirds. "You mean Luke?"

Thalia nodded. She didn't look mad anymore, just kind of sad.

"You started to say something about that," I remembered. "That he doesn't know what he's doing…"

"He does," Thalia disagreed. She stamped on a gopher hole, leaving an imprint in the dirt. "It's just… He just… Oh gods damn it, I don't know anymore." We walked a dozen more paces as she gathered her thoughts. "We visited his house, you know. About a month ago. Annabeth and I were hurt, and he said he knew a place. What he didn't count on his father being there."

I thought of Luke's face Thalia used his last name. The way he'd said his father's name. "It didn't go well, did it?"

"No." Thalia said. "No it didn't. And the worst part is–" she broke off to kick a tree, letting off some steam before carrying on. "The worst part is, I don't even know what happened. We were only there for an hour, but Luke spoke with his dad, just the two of them. Whatever was said, whatever they talked about… He hasn't been the same since."

"But he's seemed so fine," I said. "He jokes around. And he's always looking out for us."

Thalia looked at me sadly. "You wouldn't understand, Percy. Not unless you knew him before. But he's changed. Sometimes, when he smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes. And he's gotten reckless. He wants to rob Every town we hit blind. Every monster we meet, it's charge first, think of a strategy later. I'm worried about him."

I wanted to say something to make her feel better. Problem was, I had nothing. If she said something was wrong with Luke, who was I to disagree? Not for the first time that day I felt like I didn't belong. Like I was an outsider.

Maybe those feelings would fade with time. Or maybe this wasn't where I was meant to be. Not for too long, anyway.

"Do you have any family?" I asked, changing the subject. "Other than your dad, I mean."

"He doesn't count," Thalia said. "He left us." Her eyes were hard, staring forward as if looking anywhere else were dangerous. "My only family, the only one that matters, is this group."

"What about your mom? I asked. As soon as I said it I wished I hadn't. If looks could kill I would've had an express ticket to my uncle's domain, and I didn't mean her dad.

"She's gone from my life," Thalia ground out. "Let's leave it at that."

"My mom's gone too," I blurted out. "Like, gone gone."

I'd just wanted to get her to stop glaring at me. It worked, but I didn't like the look of pity I got any better.

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

We'd been walking a while now. Up ahead I could see through the trees to where a highway ran. Cars blurred by in streaks of color, the noise of their engines fading in before fading out just as quickly.

"What was she like?"

We were stopped now, a ways back from the edge of the asphalt. I slipped Aelia from my pocket and spun it around my fingers, helping myself focus and order my thoughts.

"Kind," I said. "Especially to me, but also just in general. She raised me by herself. She was always working two jobs to make the Manhattan rent, but she did it with a smile. She remarried, but…" I waved my hand, not feeling like drawing on the words necessary to describe my stepfather. "Well, she did everything she could for me, and she did all of it alone."

"She sounds great. I wish I could've met her."

"So do I."

We stood there a moment, watching the cars zip by. I imagined we looked quite pathetic to the passing drivers: two dirty kids stood beside the road, one just barely keeping himself from crying.

"Wait a minute." Thalia said. "You lived in New York?"

"Hmm? Yeah."

"Then," She said slowly, "how did get all the way to Pennsylvania?"

Shit.

"I had some help," I said.

"From your father?"

I should've said yes. That would've been the smart thing to do. But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't give Poseidon, who'd sat back and done nothing, credit for saving my life.

The end result was my mouth hanging open like a fish's as I shook my head back and forth.

"Percy, who helped you?" She didn't sound accusing, just curious. But what could I say? Tossing out Daedalus' name out would make me sound crazy, considering everyone thought he'd died a thousand years ago. Not to mention it kind of ruined the whole hidden from the world thing he was going for.

My problem was solved in one of the worst ways possible: a black blur bulldozing its way out of the woods and straight into Thalia.

Aegis took shape on her wrist as the shape slammed. Her mace canister went flying across the highway before it could transform, landing far out of reach, and the girl and her attacker slid to a stop a distance away from me, overturned grass in their wake.

It all happened so quickly that it took me a moment to recognize the attacker as a hellhound. It was smaller than Mrs. O'Leary, but still as big as a full-grown bear. Its fangs snapped viciously, flinging saliva as it tried to find a way around Thalia's shield, and its claws were dug into the ground for leverage, pinning Thalia down and not letting her up. Little bits of electricity sparked off of its coat, but none of them were strong enough to do more than irritate it.

I clicked Aelia, and Anfisa formed in my hand. My plan was to charge in and help, but by the time my spear was ready the hellhound had gotten ahold of Aegis in its jaws. One jerk of its head and the shield was sent spiraling away like a golden frisbee.

There was no time to think. A desperate plan flashed through my head, and I acted.

"Thalia!" I shouted. "Catch!"

And I threw Anfisa to her, end over end like the world's deadliest pinwheel blade.

Somehow, she caught the shaft perfectly. I sent a silent prayer for demigods' boosted reflexes, and another when she dug the point into the monster's neck, turning it to dust a second before its fangs could sink into her.

"Yuck," she coughed, spitting out monster residue. "For the record, when I said I wanted to check out your weapon, this wasn't what I had in mind."

"That was a hellhound," I said, staring at the spot the monster had dissolved. Daedalus had explained a bit about them, but what I knew didn't make any sense.

Thalia pulled herself to her feet. "You know them?"

"They're supposed to help guard the underworld. I've had experiences." Just usually with a lot more licking and a lot less attempted maiming. But one thing in particular was really weirding me out.

"It was only after you," I said. "I was closer to it, but it ignored me completely. Why would it do that?"

"Who knows," Thalia said, now rubbing at a spot of saliva that just wouldn't come out of her shirt. "Maybe I just looked tastier. Or maybe it didn't think you would be enough food."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed Aegis from where it'd landed. Face-down, luckily, saving me a whole lot of discomfort. The Mace Cannister had flown well out of sight, but that didn't worry me. If Thalia needed it, it would reappear in her pocket as if it had never been gone.

I was about to make an insightful suggestion that would solve all of our problems when, far away, a girl's voice screamed. Thalia and I met each other's eyes, our conversation forgotten.

We knew that voice. It was Annabeth.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

My Dreams Come True and Try to Kill Me

We didn't speak, just ran. I'd shrunken Anfisa down, but my lungs had still begun to burn and my feet were dragging. I hadn't realized how far we'd gone until trying to sprint the whole way back to camp.

Finally, I couldn't keep it up anymore. I dropped to my knees, hands on the ground. Thalia turned back, face conflicted, and I shook my head.

"Go," I told her between breaths. "I'll…catch up."

She hesitated a bit longer, then nodded and took off. Her back disappeared between the trees, combat boots clomping as she rushed away.

When I was sure she was gone I dropped all the way to the ground, rolling onto my back. My chest burned. My shirt was soaked. The heavy humid air was thick in my throat.

It was still only afternoon, which seemed crazy given how much had already happened. The sky was blue without a cloud in sight. Perched in it, shining onto everything, was the summer sun.

Which was why when a shadow covered me, I knew instantly that something was wrong. I kicked up, exhaustion forgotten, and shot from the clearing as fast as my body could move. The telltale bark of a hellhound rattled behind me.

It wouldn't be until much later, when I had the time to calm down and think things through, that I would realize how little sense the interaction had made. Not only had the hellhound waited for me to notice it, there was also no way I could've outrun one.

But none of that occurred to me as I sped back to camp at top speed.

When I got there I skidded to a stop and didn't like what I found. Thalia was a few feet ahead of me, Aegis on the ground in front of her. The shield was face down, as if it had been dropped and then flipped over with a foot. When she saw me arrive Thalia cursed under her breath.

Luke was a ways away, his sword on the ground too, and beyond him was a sight that made me want to rub my eyes. The two wrinkly old ladies from my dreams were there, low-cut dress and leather jacket and all. The biker looking one had Annabeth by the throat, claws resting against the exposed skin ominously.

"We did what you wanted," Luke was saying. "Now let her go."

"Ah ah ah," Megaera said, shifting her dress and casting her eyes onto me. "There's one more now."

When she looked at me I felt feelings I never had in the dreams. I wanted a happy family like so many other kids had. I wanted the power that Luke and Thalia had, their ability to kill monsters. I even remembered the shiny red bike one of my classmates used to show up to school on and wanted that, too.

"Well child," Megaera prompted. "Would you mind dropping your weapon? If you won't it's not a large issue. We'll simply gut your friend."

I didn't move, still buried in the inexplicable feelings of envy. Tisiphone scoffed.

"See where finesse gets you?" she said. "This is how you do it."

Her attention settled on me, and the jealousy was washed away in a white-hot wave of anger. I wanted to stab something. I wanted to stab everything. As long as I was killing something, I was sure I'd be happy. Rather than drop my weapon I gripped it tighter.

"Percy," Luke said. "You gotta drop it."

But I barely heard him. It was like I was underwater and words were just barely trickling down to me. Kill, sounded in my head. I took a step forward.

Then Tisiphone dug the tip of her claw into of Annabeth's neck and the girl grunted sharply. The sound cut across the haze, like my head had been shoved back above water. I dropped Aelia.

"Good boy," Megaera chimed. "Continue taking my advice and you'll certainly die well."

"Your advice?" Tisiphone growled. "Your advice just had him standing there like a damned fool. It was my words that moved him, just like it was my senses that led us to them."

"Still with that?" Megaera said. She rolled her head to the side, looking at her sister from the corners of her eyes. "You'll have to come to terms with my success sooner or later. It's either do so now, or when Hades rewards me and I ascend to the role of favorite."

At Hades' name Annabeth began to struggle, trying to force her way free. Tisiphone lifted her clear into the air as if she weighed nothing.

"Still, girl," she commanded before looking at her sister. "And you, where do you come up with these delusions? It was my screech owls – which Hades personally entrusted specifically to me – that found their location."

"The screech owl!" Megaera cried. She looked at the ground in disbelief the way most people would look to the sky. "Good Hades, the screech owl she says! Do you have any inkling how many blasted days it took to track down which owl raised the alarm, all because someone wasn't paying enough attention? You better, given you were tramping along beside me every step of the way! And you want credit for finding them? All you could say was, 'they're east of us,' as if our sister hadn't told us that weeks ago."

The two were facing each other now, glaring. Luke slowly bent down, reaching for his sword.

"Don't even think about it," they snapped at once. He jerked upright.

"Don't tell me you actually think it," Tisiphone carried on, "that it was your ability to, what did you call it, 'sniff crime' that found them for us?" She snorted. "What a load of tripe."

"You'll find, sister, that any of us could do it. Even you, if you weren't such a meat headed buffoon. But why bother with conjecture. Here." Megaera faced Luke. "You! Hermes spawn! I have a query."

Luke's hand clenched, but he ground out, "What?"

"Did you or any of the others- Oh who am I kidding. Did you commit a crime recently? Come now, out with it quickly."

"A crime?" Luke asked.

"You know, breaking the law. Vandalism, assault, a particularly bad case of Jaywalking…"

"Patricide," Tisiphone added.

Megaera nodded. "That too."

"Or Fratricide." Tisiphone's voice ticked up at the end as if the prospect excited her.

"Yes, yes, also that. Any of the-"

"Suicide, even?"

Megaera wheeled on her. "If you are going to interrupt incessantly, at least use what brain power you do possess. You can see quite well that he is alive."

"Well excuse me for trying to have a good time," Tisiphone mumbled. "Gods know you could do with a bit of lightening up…"

Luke looked pale. "Would stealing do it?"

"In sufficient quantity," said Megaera. She nodded, the creases in her wrinkly skin deepening as she smiled. "Of course that would be it. A child of thievery indeed, what else would it have been."

She faced her sister. "Well? Do you still believe my ideas fallacious, even with proof shoved under your nose?"

"We can discover the details later," Tisiphone growled. She looked like she'd sucked a lemon. "Unless you're eager to waste this opportunity. Do you want Alecto to swoop in and snatch this from us? After we're so close to showing her up?"

"Very well." Megaera's face looked like a cat that'd nabbed the best cut of meat. "Onto business, then."

She gave us her full attention, Thalia in particular.

"One step and your friend dies," she said. "One motion toward your weapon, and your friend dies. I see one bit of lightning, and your friend dies. So be a dear and accept your death conveniently for her sake."

"Don't!" Annabeth shouted. "You ca-"

Tisiphone's hand squeezed tighter, and the words stopped in a hiss of air.

"Quickly now," Megaera said. "Patience is not my sister's strongest virtue. Nor, in these circumstances, is it mine."

She snapped her fingers and all around us the sound of growling echoed. From every direction came hellhounds, springing out from beneath trees and rocks and anything else that cast a shadow. There were ten of them, all pawing at the ground in anticipation of the meal they'd make out of us.

"Fine!" Thalia shouted. Her fingers were trembling, but from fear or anger I couldn't tell. "I'll do what you want, but you let the others go. Swear it to me."

"No-" Luke started, but Thalia shot him down with a glare.

"You heard my terms!" she shouted at the women. "Take it or leave it!"

"They're reasonable enough," Megaera said, head lilting to the side. "Very well. If you accept your death without struggle, no harm will come to your friends by the Furies of Hades. I swear it on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed in the clear sky. Annabeth's eyes widened and she opened her mouth once more, but nothing came out. She was being held too tightly to speak. In fact, she was being held too tightly period. Purple and red splotches were forming on her cheeks. I wasn't sure how much longer she could go without air.

Luckily with the deal they wanted struck the furies had no need for her. In a seriously impressive one-handed granny shot, Annabeth was sent sailing through the air straight at Luke. The son of Hermes wasted no time in catching her and setting her gently on the ground, where she lay coughing and gasping.

A moment later Luke's sword was in his hand and murder in his eyes.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Megaera commented.

"And why's that?" Luke asked, closing the distance between them at a brisk walk. "You can't touch me, in case you forgot. You swore."

Megaera shrugged. "True. But they can."

"The hellhounds," Annabeth choked out. She'd recovered enough to speak, if with some difficulty. "She said the furies wouldn't hurt us, but never that their servants wouldn't!"

"Clever girl," Megaera said. "Too bad it's useless."

"Quite unfortunate," Tisiphone agreed. "But the result was decided when we found you. Everything else was just a formality."

And the two wailed hissing, bubbling cries and began to change. Wrinkled skin darkened and stretched. Black, fleshy wings sprouted from their backs. Their faces remained mostly the same but the teeth filling their wide-open mouths sharpened to points. At that same moment, taking their shift as some sort of unspoken sign, the hellhounds began to close in, padding towards us with surety of predators that knew their prey had no way to escape.

Thalia went for her shield, realizing that there was no point in honoring her deal. But the furies were already moving, shooting forward like ugly wrinkled cannonballs. Luke jumped to intercept them but three hellhounds converged on him at once, forcing him to roll away or become a demigod sandwich.

Thalia had to abandon Aegis, instead drawing her spear from her pocket. It formed just in time to deflect a slash from an eager Tisiphone, then stabbed at Megaera as she arrived, forcing the Fury to abort her own attack.

That was as long as I got to watch. Two hellhounds leapt at me, coming from opposite sides. I ducked and let them crash into each other. They dropped, dazed but not disintegrated, and I nabbed Aelia from the ground just as a third came snapping.

It was small for a hellhound, but still plenty big enough to snap me in half with one good bite. It lunged, and I decked it. There was a crunch as my metal hand connected with its nose and the thing backed off with a yelp.

Growling alerted me that the first two were back on their feet. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed this; they were prowling in a slow circle, waiting for an opening. The one I'd walloped joined them, still sniffling but eager for a chance for payback. Anfisa formed in my hand, but they didn't look nearly as impressed by the sword as I'd hoped they would be.

In the lull I got a look at the others. Annabeth still looked worse for wear but was managing to dive and dodge her way away from a pair of hellhounds. Luke was growling almost as much as the monsters he was fighting, whirling and slicing like a man possessed at the full five that had gone after him. He'd taken out two, but his shoulder was bleeding, he was favoring one side, and the monsters just kept coming.

Then there was the main attraction: Thalia duking it out with two Furies at once without her shield. For every attack she deflected another grazed her, slowly forcing her backwards. As I watched she went for a Hail Mary, a massive lightning bolt blasting from her spear. She caught Tisiphone in the chest, and with a sound like burning toast the fury was fried into dust as she let out a final hideous wail.

But Thalia had overextended. In order to line up the shot she'd had to turn her back on Megaera, and the remaining Fury exploited this without mercy, lunging in before she could reraise her guard. The Fury's claws raked across her side before another, much smaller discharge forced her to retreat.

"Thalia!" I shouted, watching the girl stumble backwards, clutching at her side. I didn't have the time to worry about her though. The hellhounds around me took my distraction as their queue to pounce.

I met one with a slash and managed to catch it head on. Any possible thoughts of pride at the kill were immediately smashed from me by an oversized paw.

I tumbled, feeling my ribs buckle, but sprung up in time face the follow up charge. I swung for the hellhound on the right but found less success than I had the first time; it darted backwards, escaping injury. The other was too close now to bring my sword around on.

I tried to stomp its paw. My celestial bronze foot broke through the hard dirt where it struck but missed the meaty paw by a full inch. Jaws appeared in my face, foul gums plastered with bits of meat and teeth speckled with blood.

Time slowed down. There was nothing I could do- it was over for me. Elsewhere Annabeth cried out, her own evasions apparently taking a similarly bad turn. It wasn't just me, we were all done for.

Then something incredible happened. Something shot past me, straight into my soon-to-be killer.

It was another hellhound, this one nearly twice the size of the biggest the Furies had brought. Hanging from its mouth by the strap was a scratched and faded backpack.

I said, "Mrs. O'Leary?"

Mrs. O'Leary didn't turn to face me, not taking her eyes off the opponent she'd sent sprawling, but her tail thundered into the ground, wagging with the force of a sledgehammer.

"What is the meaning of this," Megaera bellowed. "You! Hound! Obey immediately."

Mrs. O'Leary looked at her. Then, very slowly, began to lift her hind leg. She couldn't be-

But she was. That big, beautiful dog was peeing, holding eye contact with the Fury the entire time. Everyone else came to a stop and watched, surprised into dropping whatever they'd been doing.

"You dare!" Megaera shrieked.

"Woof," replied Mrs. O'Leary, and chaos broke out once more.

Two hellhounds leapt at Daedalus' dog and she flicked her head toward me, flinging the backpack. I caught it as it slammed into my chest, watched as she batted away one of her attackers and took the hit from the other, rolling across the ground with the smaller hellhound.

With my opponents occupied I could actually pick my next step for the first time since the fight started. Thalia had managed to get ahold of Aegis once more and was forcing Tisiphone backwards. Luke had offed another hellhound and was working his way through the remaining two with relative ease, a vindictive smile on his lips.

The decision was easy. I ran for Annabeth.

The daughter of Athena had recovered somewhat from her stint as a hostage but was clearly still exhausted as she stumbled and dove her way around two hellhounds. A gash on her leg was bleeding heavily enough to stain her pants.

When I got close I dropped the backpack to free my hands and waved my sword like a madman. "Doggies want a stick?" I shouted.

Both hellhounds turned to me, giving Annabeth a chance to scuttle away and properly draw her knife. She was panting and sweaty, but I knew from one look that if I could create an opening she'd be ready to take it.

"Yeah," I said, keeping the monsters' attention, "look at me, tasty demigod with the shiny weapon. Just keep looking at me…"

A faked like throwing my sword past them, the same way I always fooled my neighbor's dog when playing fetch. The pooches of the underworld proved themselves more astute than that poodle had been- their heads didn't turn for a second.

"I guess that was optimistic," I said. "Fine, hard way it is."

As if taking my words as a queue, they rushed me. Or one did. The other tried but stopped with a squeal and dissolved. Annabeth stood behind it, knife outstretched. The remaining hellhound seemed torn then, whether to continue after me or get revenge for its friend. We didn't give it time to choose.

We charged it from both directions, and when it finally decided to snap at Annabeth I was there, burying Anfisa into its side.

Annabeth gave me a nod. "Thanks."

"No problem," I said. "Nice coordination."

She said, "I'm a daughter of Athena, of course I can coordinate," but her smile gave away that she wasn't nearly as defensive as she sounded.

Luke had finished his enemies and moved to help Thalia, bruised and cut up but still moving well. Mrs. O'Leary had just gotten her last 'playmate'by the neck and her fangs sunk in with a crunch. She howled as its body faded.

It was almost over. I wandered over to the backpack and picked it up. Annabeth eyed it curiously.

"That hellhound, the rogue one, it gave that to you, didn't it?"

"Oh, um, yeah," I said. "Strange huh?"

"Definitely. Just like you knowing its name."

She stared at me hard. I tried and failed not to shift. "She had a collar. I got a look at it, that's all."

Maybe the fight had left her too exhausted or maybe I'd earned the benefit of the doubt, because Annabeth let the topic drop, though she still looked a bit suspicious. A shout reached us, and when I looked over I found Megaera on the ground, Thalia's spear at her throat and Luke's sword aimed at her chest.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she complained, sounding more irritated and less irate than she should've. "It will be decades before we get another chance like this. Maybe centuries."

"Shouldn't you be more upset?" Thalia said, puzzled.

Tisiphone made a hrgh noise from the back of her throat, like she was clearing phlegm. "Of course I'm upset. If you'd done what you were supposed to, just died, I'd be returning to the Underworld triumphant right now. Ascending to the role I deserve: The favorite of Hades! All the best jobs would be given to me, no more punishing mortals that can't even fight back, no more directing traffic in the Fields of Asphodel! But no, you just had to go and struggle, just to survive a week or two longer."

Thalia started. "What do you mean 'a week or two'?" she asked, jabbing lightly with her spear.

Tisiphone looked startled, as if the question caught her off guard. The she began to laugh- loud, hard, manic. "Did you actually believe you'd escaped?" She broke off, laughing too hard to speak, until she got it back under control. "Oh, you poor thing. Hades is after you, and when he wishes a soul claimed it will be. You nearly died here, with just me and my sister. What about next time, or the time after that? We'll keep coming, and coming, and coming until Hades' will is reality. Death is persistent if nothing else, my dear. None escape him."

Thalia said, "You're bluffing. Monsters don't come back that quickly," but she didn't sound convinced.

Megaera didn't answer, just laughed harder. She laughed so hard that her body began shuddering, from her chest to the tips of her wings, right up until Luke stabbed right into that shuddering chest. Even as she dissolved the laughing didn't stop.

"Luke!" Thalia chastised. "We could've gotten more out of her!"

Luke was breathing hard. He was staring at where the Fury had been, but his eyes seemed focused on something far away. "She wasn't going to say anything," he said. "She was crazy."

He looked like crap- he was leaning his weight onto one leg, his shoulder was bleeding, and his shirt was ripped and torn. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Crazy as shit," he said, and tromped away toward the hut without looking back. When Thalia called after him, he didn't even turn his head.

Chapter Text

Nine

A Goat's Warning Comes True

The atmosphere was tense after the fight, as if we could all tell something big had happened but weren't sure what was coming next. I washed the blood and grime off me in the nearby creek a ways into the woods, then helped Thalia wrap up the cuts on her side while Annabeth saw to her own leg. Luke just sat a distance away, staring into the forest as if waiting for more monsters to appear any second, gripping his sword tightly enough to turn his fingers white.

Across the clearing, careful to keep her distance, Mrs. O'Leary was lying on her belly, watching us patiently. Once I'd done my part patching up the others, I started toward her.

Thalia grabbed my hand. "Watch it. That's still a hellhound, who knows what it'll do if you get close."

"She helped us," I said. "If she wanted us dead we already would be."

Annabeth, still wrapping her leg, muttered, "Her?"

"Still," Thalia said. "Strolling up to a monster is pretty much never the smartest thing to do."

"It'll be fine," I said. "Come on, look at her!"

As if sensing she was the topic of conversation, Mrs. O'Leary rolled onto her side and stuck her paws in the air. Her tongue came out and rested on the ground.

Even Thalia melted slightly. "I guess it's fine. Just be careful."

When I approached Mrs. O'Leary completed the roll, going all the way onto her back.

"Hey girl," I said, stopping a few steps away. "Boy is it good to see you."

She panted happily.

I kneeled down and reached out a hand. "But what are you doing here, did Daedalus send you?"

Unsurprisingly she didn't answer. She did roll onto her feet though and give me a nice, full-body lick though. I spit, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah. It's great to see you."

She dipped her head, looked to the woods, then back at me. She repeated the motion a few more times until I got the hint.

"You want to leave?" I asked. "Like, right now?" I shook my head. "I can't, girl. The others need me."

She stared at me for a long minute. Then she lay her head on the ground and exhaled hard through her nostrils. A moment later her eyes were shut.

I wandered back, lost in thought.

"Fun visit?" Thalia asked when I got close, eyeing the drool still dripping from my clothes. I nodded absently.

"Mhm."

"Good," she said. "Then you can help me with this." She kicked a box at her feet that she'd been slowly dragging from the tent.

Usually she could've carried it like nothing, but her side must've been giving her problems. I grabbed it followed her, eventually setting it on a flat rock.

"So," she said, "what's the situation on our turncoat hellhound?"

"No idea," I said, pulling the lid from the box. Inside it was a pile of Ziploc bags, a square of ambrosia in each. Thalia grabbed two.

"Really?" she said. "Because it sure seems like you two know each other."

"She saved my life," I said, a touch defensive.

"She, huh?" Thalia pulled both bags open and poured the contents into her mouth all at once. I winced. Pounding god food like that was a great way to spontaneously combust. She caught my look and rolled her eyes.

"Relax. I know how much I can get away with and its more than this. So you really don't know the dog?"

"Not at all. But she's not a threat! I mean she helped us, right? If she hadn't we'd be dead."

"True." Thalia looked over at Mrs. O'Leary. The hellhound let out a loud snore, blowing up a cloud of dust in front of her face. When Thalia looked away she was failing at hiding a smile. "It should be fine for now, but we'll have to keep an eye on her. Unless, of course, someone knew her and had a good story about why we should trust her…"

She stared at me. I fiddled silently with the Ziplock on my baggy of ambrosia.

"Alright. Watch and wait it is." She took a big handful from the box and tossed half of it to me. "C'mon, let's give these to the others.

We went to Annabeth first. She'd tied her own leg and was sitting alone in a lawn chair where she looked like she was fighting her toughest battle of the day with sleep as her opponent. She'd was escaping defeat by the skin of her teeth when seeing us approach gave her something to latch onto, and she sat up straighter.

Thalia dropped two bags in her lap. She eyed the younger girl up and down. "Is your leg the worst of it?"

Annabeth nodded. "Everything else is just scrapes and bruises."

"Take one square now, then, and the other in a few hours. No need to overdo it."

I'd half a mind to point out that Thalia was in no position to be lecturing others on overdoing it, but I didn't feel like becoming a power outlet so I kept my mouth shut.

With Annabeth seen to that only left one stop. Thalia started toward where Luke sat, his back to us, then stopped. She started again, made it a few more steps, stopped again.

"Do you want me to do it?" I asked.

She smiled at me but shook her head. "No, I'll do it. It's just…"

I nodded even though she hadn't finished her sentence. There was something ugly about Luke right now, in the way he stormed off or the way he was brooding apart from of us. I thought of the look on his face when he'd been fighting. He'd been smiling.

"Together, then?" I offered. Thalia didn't shoot me down, just started walking again. I fell into step. This time she didn't stop.

"Luke," she said when we got close, voice uncharacteristically soft. "How're your injuries?"

He grunted, not turning around. "Good enough. You should head back, look after Annabeth. Her leg looked pretty bad."

"Then help her with it," Thalia said. "That'll do more good than sitting alone over here."

"Not right now."

Thalia pursed her lips. "Luke-"

"Not right now."

She grunted in annoyance. "Fine. Be difficult. But at least take some ambrosia- your shoulder looks terrible and so does your leg."

"I'll live. You should take it or give it to-"

"To Annabeth, right?" Thalia growled and chucked three baggies into his lap. "You think I didn't already give her some? We have a full box for gods' sake. Don't be stubborn and take it."

He looked over his shoulder and for a second I hardly recognized him. A small cut on the side of his face had been allowed to breed freely, leaving one cheek caked in recently dried blood. His hair was matted with sweat, bits of monster dust still stuck in it. But worst of all was his eyes, boiling with fierce emotions.

"They're trying to kill you," he said to Thalia. "After everything, they're trying to kill you."

"You mean the Furies?" I asked.

"I mean the gods! After all the things we've had to struggle through, after all the things they abandoned us to face alone, they go and decide that wasn't enough? That they should just drop pretenses and do the job themselves?" He punched the ground hard enough for his knuckles to creak. "Thalia, how can you be so calm about this?"

Thalia looked at him. Then she laughed. When she noticed the looks we were giving her, she made an effort to pull it together.

"Sorry, it's just, you think I'm calm?" Still chuckling, her hand clenched into a fist. "I am very much not calm. I want to charge enough volts up Hades' ass that you could hang Christmas lights off him and watch them light up like New Year's Eve."

"But," she said when Luke opened his mouth to speak, "that's secondary. The main thing is that I want all of us to survive. And look! We're a little roughed up, but we're not dead. There'll be time to worry about revenge later."

Luke recoiled as if she'd slapped him. He looked away resolutely, but before he managed to avert his eyes I saw guilt in them. He picked up the baggy in his lap and popped it open. "Got it."

Thalia and I traded a look, then shrugged at each other. We headed away in silence, our job done as well as it could be.

But before we got all the way back something disturbed the still air. Across the clearing Mrs. O'Leary had jumped to her feet, barking.

At first I thought she'd had a bad dream. It had happened before. But when she didn't stop I realized something was wrong.

Her head was low, body ready to pounce. Her red eyes darted around the forest, searching for a glimpse of something. Then the rest of us heard it- crunching, cracking, and rustling. Something was in the forest, and it was coming straight at us.

Thalia's hands filled with Aegis and her spear. Luke abandoned his watch and leapt up, advancing forward slowly, his sword ready. Annabeth fell in behind us, clutching her dagger, and I stepped beside her, Anfisa whirring into shape.

Snap.

Bark bark bark.

Snap snap.

Bark bark bark.

Snap snap snap- a figure hurtled into sight, sprinting forward and…faceplanting?

Everyone froze, all except the intruder who, without raising his head, moaned. "Owwww."

He picked his way to his feet, and I realized he looked younger than Thalia. "Great job," he said, using a gangly arm to pick a strand of curly brown hair from his mouth. "What kind of Saytr manages to trip himself in the woods?"

He finally looked over at us. When his mocha-colored eyes roved over the array of weaponry aimed in his direction they went wide.

"Waaait," he called, the middle syllable stretching and warbling. "I'm friendly! Friendly!"

Thalia advanced slowly. "What do you want?"

"Want?" he said. "To protect you!"

"To protect us?" Thalia snorted. "Why, out of the goodness of your heart?"

He gulped visibly, gaze stuck on the spear tip pointed toward his chest "I'm a satyr. Protecting demigods is our job."

He kicked off a ratty sneaker and held up his foot- or where his foot should've been. Instead there was only a black, cloven hoof, as if straight from a barnyard animal. Thick clumps of fur stuck haphazardly out from his pant leg.

"See?" He said. "Me satyr, me friend!"

Apparently, Thalia was more used to things like this than I was, because while I was staring at the genuine hoof she was already grilling the boy.

"If it's your job," she said, "then who do your work for? Nothing is free for kids like us."

"You dad," he said. Then, catching the foul look on her face, elaborated as quick as he could. "Indirectly, at least. I work for the Camp, everyone there works for Mr. D, and he works for your dad. Sort of. When he feels like it, or when he's threatened, at least."

"Camp?" Annabeth asked. "What camp?"

The boy pressed a hand to his forehead. "You big idiot," he said to himself, "You're supposed to open with that!"

He cleared his throat, straightened his bag a little, and did his absolute best to pretend he wasn't terrified.

"Camp Half-Blood, the official and only place for people like you, would love to welcome you into its borders. Tired of people not understanding you? Looking for a safe place from monsters? Just want to receive professional training in stabbing living things? All that and more can be yours for the low price of following the satyr in front of you. So don't delay! Fall into step, because your new life awaits."

He took a breath, pitch finished, and took in the blank stares he was getting.

"Was that an… advertisement?" I asked.

He pulled slightly on his collar. "That was the official introduction to be read to new half-bloods," he said. "We didn't used to have one, but Lord Apollo visited recently and said every self-respecting organization needed one, so he whipped it up for us." He lowered his voice and confided, "I memorized the whole thing on my way here. Was my delivery ok?"

Staring at the boy shifting from one foot to the other looking at us like a lost puppy (lost lamb?) Thalia sighed and lowered her weapon. Whether that meant she believed the satyr or that she wouldn't need it to send him packing, I wasn't sure.

"How'd you find us, goat boy?" she asked.

"I have a name!" he said. "Call me Grover."

Thalia cracked her knuckles.

"I mean, only if you want to! Maybe part of the time?" He saw she wasn't moved and hung his head. "…goat boy is fine."

"Glad we solved that. So, goat boy, the question?"

"The question?" he said. "Right, the question! Honestly, it wasn't hard. Four demigods in one place, one of them a daughter of Zeus, well…" He tapped his right nostril and flared it. "I could smell you from three towns over."

I sniffed at my armpit, frowning. I didn't think I smelled anywhere near that bad, but Grover had already moved on.

"If I can find you," he was saying, "then monsters can too. We need to move. Quickly."

"Monsters already find us," Luke said. He'd prowled closer over the course of the conversation, now standing just behind Thalia. Unlike her his weapon was still very much at the ready. "We handle them, they're nothing new."

Grover shivered. "Not like this. Not yet. What you've experienced is just a drop in the bucket, the seedling to an oak. Because…because," he dropped his voice and half-whimpered, "the Guy Downstairs is after you."

We looked at each other. Thalia asked, "You mean Hades?"

Grover flinched. His hands came up to protect his head like he expected a monster to make a lunge for it at any second. "Not the name!"

"Why?" Thalia asked. "What'll he do, send his furies after us!"

"Yes! And hellhounds! Lots and lots of hellhounds!"

"Been there, done that."

"Exact- wait, what?" Grover peaked out from behind his fingers.

"Earlier today," Thalia said. "Two Furies and lots and lots of hellhounds. We sent them straight down where they came from. Look, we even kept one as a keepsake!"

Grover's eyes followed Thalia's outstretched finger and landed on Mrs. O'Leary. The hellhound barked and he scrambled backward, ending up tripping on the toe of the shoe he still wore. "What in the- Ah! Help!"

Thalia started laughing, and the rest of us quickly followed. Even Luke. The scene was just too funny not to- a sprawling satyr attempting to crawl away and cover his head at the same time while a hellhound sniffed and licked at his hindquarters.

"Get it away! Away!"

"Relax," Thalia said. "She won't hurt you." She looked at me. "Unless our resident expert knows about something we don't? Like, say, a passionate taste for mutton?"

"You know," I said, "now that you mention it…"

Grover yelped and went white as a sheet, beginning the process of curling into a ball.

We laughed harder. By the time we'd calmed down Grover had found his way to a sitting position. He still looked extremely uncomfortable with the dog looming behind him, but had found it in himself to give us all a glare.

"I was scared for my life!"

"Sorry, sorry," Thalia said. "But, well…"

"It was pretty funny," I finished.

"Just think," Grover said, "while you're playing practical jokes on a poor Satyr that risked his wool to save you the Furies are out there, waiting for their chance to attack. If you mess around too much then bam!" He smacked a fist into his palm. "They'll catch you, and you'll be dead meat, and I'll fail my task, and we'll all die, and I'll probably get reincarnated as a," he shivered, "Eucalyptus."

I was about to ask what was wrong with that (I liked the smell of Eucalyptus!) when a new, nasally voice spoke above us.

"The satyr is partially correct, dears," it said, and my spine went stiff. I slowly cranked my head up and found exactly what I didn't want to.

Perched on a high branch like some type of vengeful bird was Alecto in all her glory, the third Fury's wings and claws on full display.

"My sisters failed again," she said. "Unfortunate for them, but not unexpected. This is what I get for expecting them to coordinate rather than rush in like children seeing a new toy." She eyed us hungrily, eyes flitting over the numerous injuries. "At least they managed to soften the path to my inevitable victory."

Thalia was in battle mode before I could blink. Aegis faced straight toward Alecto and the Fury's predatory smile slipped.

"We got rid of two of you earlier," she said. "Why not make it a full set of three?"

But the weight was doing bad things to her injured side. Her spear was wobbling as she fought to keep in in proper position. Her threat wrang hollow, too much of her attention taken up just keeping up appearances. The bandages I'd helped wrap had begun to tinge with red.

A sea of glowing eyes sprung up in the woods. A legion of hellhounds, far more than we'd faced earlier, came forward. Mrs. O'Leary barked tirelessly at them but didn't seem to know which way to face, her neck on a swivel as she tried to intimidate enemies appearing from every direction.

We were in no condition to fight. Well, none of us except Grover, but based on the way he was trembling I doubted he'd be doing much protecting anytime soon, even if he said that was his job. We started backing up, bunching ourselves closer and closer together.

Pretty soon Grover's shoulder bumped mine while Thalia was inches away on the other side. We were crammed in like sardines, and Alecto looked like she was in the mood for some fish.

"There is a reason my sisters are below me," she said. "Unlike them, I know how to pick my moment. How to ensure I do not fail."

My backpack pushed against Annabeth as we ran fully out of space to retreat into. But as the bag was pressed I felt something inside it jab into my back. I pulled the pack off and yanked open the zipper. A small canister stared back at me- the container of Greek Fire from Daedalus's workshop. I'd completely forgotten that I'd grabbed it, all those days ago.

A half-formed plan came to my head.

"Why're you doing this!" I yelled.

Thalia elbowed me to keep quiet, but I squirmed away.

"Is it really just because of who her dad is?"

"There is nothing 'just' about a daughter of Zeus, nor about the will of Hades," Alecto said with a raised eyebrow. Still, she seemed to find my question amusing because she humored it. "Children of the sons of Kronos are dangerous, more dangerous than you could know. Just earlier this year intervention was required to solve a similar problem. Zeus's attempts to handle it made a complete mess of things and allowed the problem to escape. There will be no such mistakes here."

"And if you could correct that mistake?"

"And how exactly coul-"

I didn't let her finish. Focusing all my attention on the water tank I'd filled earlier, I willed its contents to action.

I wasn't sure it would work. I'd tried similar things a handful of times down in the Labyrinth but could never get the results that I had with the Harpy. Daedalus said I'd grow into my powers, and that until then they'd only react in intense situations. This, apparently, qualified.

The container tipped over, its contents shooting through the air as a very un-waterlike projectile. One hellhound was unlucky enough to be in its path and was bowled over with a squawk. Alecto had more than enough time to get herself out of the way, but was too surprised to do so. With a splashing noise she was hit dead-on, forced from her branch.

She caught herself in the air, wings beating instinctually. Her attention settled square on my shoulders. I felt the earlier predatory excitement soar to new heights.

"Both," she breathed. "I can deal with both. Hades will be so, so pleased with me."

"Only if you can catch me!" I shouted. And I breathed deeply, put my head down, and took off running.

The others were too shocked to stop me, but as I got further away I heard them shouting. I didn't listen, silently thanking my luck that I was the only one in any condition to move quickly. We only had one shot of making it out of this, and it all relied on my getting out of the clearing alone.

Two hellhounds were between me and escape, and when they saw me approaching they bared their fangs. But I swiped at one with my sword and Mrs. O'Leary tackled the other, giving me enough space to slip between them. In the background, I heard Alecto's voice screeching:

"After him! After him now! The girl can be claimed at any time, but he is only vulnerable now!"

The hellhounds listened obediently. The sounds of snapping bushes and howling rocked the forest behind me. I couldn't outrun them for long. Luckily, I shouldn't have to.

One got close enough for me to feel its hot breath on my neck and I swung Anfisa to make it back off. Just a little bit further.

Up ahead the trickle of running water reached my ears. The creek was small, smaller than I would've liked for what I was about to try, but it would have to work.

I really didn't want to think about what would happen if it didn't.

Alecto had caught up now, her wings carrying her past her servants as she nimbly darted between the trunks and branches, shouting the whole while to, "Grab him! Grab him! Grab him!"

The soil underneath my feet grew soft. Instead of coarse bushes and grass I was trampling down the soft reeds and ferns of the water's edge. My left hand punctured the thermos it was holding, the Celestial Bronze thumb piercing the weaker metal with a moment of concentration. I dove for the water.

But a hand grabbed my collar. Its claws pierced the fabric and clenched into a fist, holding me back with inhuman strength.

"Got you," Alecto said. Her free hand rose, claws catching the sun and shining like little pearls of murder. In my hand the canister fizzed ominously, spewing lime green sparks.

"For Hades," she said, slashing for my throat.

I kicked backward like a one-legged donkey. My metal foot caught her in the midriff, and with a hiss of frustrated air she was sent flying backward, tearing my shirt to pieces as she went.

The canister was barely holding together now, looking like less of a Sparkler and more like a flaring green blowtorch. I hucked it back just as the edges began to melt. This time when I dove for the creek nothing pulled me back.

I hit the water and willed it into a bubble, dragging as much as I could. It felt like someone tied a rope to my stomach and pulled out the bottom of it, but the creek responded. From upstream it sped up and from downstream it reversed, coating me in a ball of solid water.

And yet the wave of heat that struck me was still the most intense I'd ever felt. My skin tingled. I worried if I'd have eyebrows left by the end of this. I focused on the feeling of the rope and willed it harder, calling on more and more water.

My protective bubble heated up. First to lukewarm, then to a well-heated bath, then to a jacuzzi. And it kept climbing. I was breathing just fine despite being completely submerged, but even that was becoming uncomfortable, my throat left scorched by the air/water/whatever it was keeping my lungs functioning.

Then, just as I was hitting my limit, the heat disappeared. Slowly, cautiously, I unclenched whatever muscle was holding the elements around me.

There was a lot of sizzling and sloshing as the water was released from its duty and returned to the ground. I coughed, drawing in gasps of reasonably heated air, and dragged myself up.

There were no hellhounds or furies or anything else fanged and deadly in sight. But the forest that just moments before had been green and full of life was completely changed- charred, black, brittle. A branch on a nearby tree gave a cracking sound and dissolved into ash, the wood completely burned through.

"Reminder," I mumbled to myself. "When Daedalus says something's dangerous, triple what you see in your head."

And with that, I promptly faceplanted in the scorched dirt passed out.

Chapter Text

Ten

Goodbyes and Dreams

I woke to the sound of conversation.

"You don't have to look at me like that, I'm not going to touch him. Hey! Don't you growl at me!"

I groaned something halfway between "hi" and "ungh" and hauled myself to my feet, attempting to rub the sand from my eyes.

"You're awake."

Thalia was stood there, alone, leaning her back against a barbecued tree trunk. She raised a hand. "Sup. Your dog doesn't seem to like me very much right now."

Mrs. O'Leary was between us watching Thalia like she'd stolen her favorite treat. Her head was low to the ground, growling every time the girl moved.

"She's not like this usually," I said.

Thalia shrugged. "It doesn't bother me. At least she's not my cousin and never once mentioned it."

I must've been groggier than I'd realized to have missed it before, but she wasn't nearly as relaxed as she'd first looked. Her crossed arms were forced together, and one foot was smacking into the ground forcefully. She looked pissed.

"That would probably be bad," I agreed.

"Exactly. What dumbass would do something like that."

It wasn't a question. I winced- definitely pissed.

"So," she said. "Why'd you do it?"

"Why pretend not to know about my dad?"

"And everything else, but sure, you can start there."

I smiled tiredly. "Because your dad wants me dead."

Her foot stopped. "Explain."

And I did. I told her about the Harpy, about the chase in the rain, and about…my mom. By the time I'd finished her foot was moving again, tapping at twice the speed it had been before.

"I'm going to gut him," she declared. I hoped she was talking about her father, although if she was I wasn't sure how she would follow through with it. "That pigheaded, sociopathic…" She breathed in hard and shut her eyes, before exhaling slowly and reopening them.

"You still should've said something," she said. But her voice didn't sound so angry anymore. At least not at me.

I shrugged. "I didn't know how you'd take it. By the time I realized it wouldn't be a problem, things were fun. I didn't want to change anything."

"Were?" she asked.

I didn't answer immediately. I looked down at Mrs. O'Leary, who had given up her guarding to face me. Her ears hung sideways off her cocked head. She whined, casting glances at the shadows around us.

"I'm glad you're the one that found me," I said.

"And why's that?"

"Because the others would never let me leave."

"Oh, and I will?" She arched an eyebrow. "You're sure I'm not here to drag you back, whatever means necessary?"

"Nah," I said. "You know that this is for the best. Now that they know who I am, with both of us here…" I shuddered. "We'd never make it."

She pushed off the tree and brought out her spear, using it as a makeshift crutch to walk closer. Mrs. O'Leary growled but I nudged her side with my foot, and she quieted down.

Thalia stopped just in front of me, one hand massaging her side. "You want to know why I'll let you go?" she asked.

I nodded.

Her eyes focused on something far away as she collected her thoughts. Her spear's tip fizzed with bits of static, giving away the intense emotions she was keeping down.

"I used to have a brother," she said. "A baby brother. One day, when I was six, my dad just showed up again. No real hello, no apology for ditching me with my failure of a mother, just business this and business that. Even had the balls to say I wasn't being orderly enough." She shook her head. "When he left mom was pregnant again. I was excited. I'd actually have family, family beyond a god that was never around and an actress that cared about nothing but her career."

She went quiet, buried in memories.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know." She smiled bitterly. "Isn't it crazy? I don't even know. We went to the park one day. I went and played while my mother stayed behind at the car with my brother- with Jason. When I got back…" Her mouth opened and closed a few times without words coming out. She took a deep breath and kept it simple: "He was gone."

"I left soon after that," she said. "I couldn't do it anymore. Dad had left again, mom was crazier than ever, and the only one I cared about was just gone."

"And you've been surviving ever since," I said. "The monsters couldn't get you?"

She shrugged. "My dad helped some." She clinked her finger against the spear. "This appeared on top of me one morning, straight out of thin air. Amaltheia pops up from time to time and leads the way to something useful- celestial bronze weapons, sometimes even magic items or people. And being a walking thundercloud has its benefits."

I thought about my own dad. A part of me was jealous of her. At least Zeus had sent her something. Then again that probably said more about how bad my relationship was than anything good about hers.

"What do you think of your dad?" I asked.

She blinked. "Is that a trick question?"

I shook my head.

"Well," she leaned back, puffing out a breath. "I think he's a son of a bitch, a dead-beat, and that in his own twisted way he does care about me."

"So you don't hate him?"

"Oh I definitely do." She laughed. "I remember everything he's done, and I can't forgive him for it. But…It's complicated. It's family. Even after everything, there's still a bond there."

I stood straighter and held out a hand. Mrs. O'Leary bounded closer from where she'd wandered away to sniff at a gopher hole. "That's nice," I said. "I wish I could say the same."

"Are you sure that you can't?"

"My dad let my mom die," I said. "I can't forgive him for that."

"No one's asking you to," she said. "Well, he might, but that doesn't mean you have to listen. Just don't write things off if you don't absolutely have to." She stared at me as if, for a moment she was seeing someone else in my place. "I've seen what that does to people. It changes them."

I looked away. "I should leave soon."

She frowned. "What, are you on a time limit?"

As if answering her question Annabeth's voice echoed from deeper in the woods, calling our names.

"See?" I said.

"Fine."

She started shifting from side to side as I double checked that Aelia was in my pocket and turned to make sure Mrs. O'Leary was ready. When I turned back two strong arms engulfed me and squeezed. Her jacket smelled like downed powerlines, but in a good way.

When she pulled back she gave me her firmest nod, then turned resolutely and started away. As my brain worked to catch up with the unexpected gesture Mrs. O'Leary nudged me, and I let her lead me on autopilot over to a large shadow cast by the setting sun against a still-standing trunk.

Just before she disappeared from sight I shook myself and called out, "Thalia, catch!" I pulled out Ariadne's string and threw it overhand. It bounced to a stop at her feet, where she gently picked it up. "Hold onto that. If you ever need to find me, you'll need it."

"Alright grandma," she said. She started to leave again, then stopped halfway around. "Oh, and Percy? You're not allowed to die to anything, not even my dad. If you do I swear I'll find a way to drown you, just for the challenge."

I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

And I grabbed hold of Mrs. O'Leary's thick fur. The hellhound leapt forward straight into the solid ground and passed through it, pulling me along for the ride.

The best way I could describe shadow travel to someone that hasn't experienced it before would be like sticking your head out of a sports car window in a snow storm. Impossibly cold wind buffeted my face, biting at every inch of exposed skin. No wonder hellhounds had such thick coats if this was their go to method for commuting.

But as unpleasant as it was, it was fast. I barely had a chance to process the sensations before they were gone, vanishing as if they'd never been there. Light hit my eyelids letting me know that the cold dark wind was behind me.

I cracked open my eyes and found a pair of blue and red tennis shoes inches from my face. Over the course of my arrival I'd ended up splayed on the floor, my ear to the stone floor. I traced up from the shoes, past jean-clad legs and a simple white t-shirt, to meet a pair of amused blue eyes.

"Quite the experience, isn't it? The first time Mrs. O'Leary took me along for the ride it was weeks before I was willing to try it again."

I rolled over with a groan. "I'm back."

Daedalus laughed. "I can see that. Did you have fun?"

"Yea," I said, surprised by how easily the answer came." "I actually did."

"And near-death experiences?"

"Definitely."

"Are you glad to be back?"

I smiled. "I am."

He clapped his hands. "Good. We have work to do."

"Work?" I struggled into a sitting position. "What kind of work?"

"First, you are going to tell me every detail of your adventure. Then we are going to identify your mistakes and work every last one of them out of you."

"Now?" I asked.

"Of course not. I'm not a slave driver." He swept a hand toward the sink built into the far wall. "Get yourself a drink, then we'll start."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. No time like the present with so much to get through."

My body still ached. My impromptu nap at the creek bed hadn't been nearly enough to feel refreshed. But one look at Daedalus's smiling-but-serious face and I decided to get that glass of water right away. If it was the only luxury I'd be getting, I should at least take it.

I shrugged off my backpack – which, like my clothes, had remained completely dry through the whole ordeal – and trudged for the sink. As I took one of the empty glasses from beside it, Daedalus's voice stopped me.

"Percy."

I looked back at him. "What is it?"

His face didn't really change but the feeling of professionalism faded. "It's good to see you back." Then, after a moment's thought, added, "Especially in one piece."

"You knew I would leave," I said, remembering my dream. "You were keeping track of where I was. You sent Mrs. O'Leary to help."

"Did I now?" He cocked his head. "And how would you know that."

"How else would she have found me?"

"Just from that?"

"There was also a dream," I admitted. "I saw you where I'd been, holding this bag."

"Dreams," Daedalus said, nodding. "A demigod's dreams are very useful, terrible things. Never disregard what you see in them- they can prove the difference between life and death."

I thought about it. "So last night, when I saw a pink elephant driving a taxi cab…"

He blinked. Then he laughed. "Not all dreams. You'll know the difference when you experience them. Although, I suppose, there are some threats even I have not heard of. Perhaps your next challenge will be fluorescent elephants, and you'll now know to avoid any and all taxi services."

"I'll make sure to keep it in mind," I said.

When our chuckles faded Daedalus started again, serious once more.

"I did count on your leaving," he said, "but not everything went to plan." He flipped my backpack over and pulled open a secret pouch on the side. Reaching in, he drew out a small rubber ball. "It's rather too small for her now, but this was Mrs. O'Leary's favorite chew toy once upon a time."

Mrs. O'Leary was so excited by the sight of it that she sprung up from her spot of the floor, upending a table of what looked like mechanical birds which began to creak and squawk when they hit the ground. Daedalus pulled a remote from one of his pockets, pressed a button, and they quieted down.

"You can see her fondness for it, then. So long as you had this on you, she could've followed anywhere- she has its scent committed to memory."

"The giants," I realized. "I lost the bag fighting them."

"Yes. Mrs. O'Leary dispatched them to keep them from following you, but by the time she was done it was too late. She'd lost track of you, and from that moment on your safety net was gone." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wished for you to get a taste of real combat – I would not have left Ariadne's String out if I hadn't – but your facing it alone was never meant to be."

He ducked his head and bowed toward me.

"I'm sorry. My miscalculation put you in severe danger."

I tried to wave him off, uncomfortable. "Don't worry about it. I mean I'm fine, aren't I?"

"You shouldn't be," he said bluntly. "The world is a dangerous place for a half-blood, and the labyrinth is even worse. How did you survive so long in it alone?"

I finally stuck the empty class under the faucet. As the tap water began filling it, I said, "I wasn't alone."

I told him about Amaltheia and how she led me to the others. About the fight with Lamia, and traveling. And finally I told him about the Fury's, about Mrs. O'Leary's heroic entrance, and my torching of a perfectly nice stretch of nature."

"A daughter of Zeus," he said, eyes far away as if running through complex equations in real time- which, to be fair, was probably exactly what was happening. "This changes everything."

"What does it change?" I asked.

It was like he didn't hear me.

"A daughter of Zeus," he said to himself. "And already fourteen at that. Perfect."

"Hey." I snapped my fingers, trying to draw his attention. "What does it change? What's perfect?"

Daedalus returned to earth, his eyes buzzing with new energy. "For you, nothing has changed. Yet. And what is perfect, is the timing for some training."

I held up my still-unfinished water glass. "But you said-"

"Down it," he said, striding toward our training area. "We have work to do."

The next month was a blur of sweat and effort. Daedalus drilled me in swordsmanship, battle tactics, and even, horribly, book knowledge. Every night I went to sleep with Greek names and monster trivia spinning around my head. Most of it was gone by the next morning, but through sheer repetition some of it was starting to stick.

And then, one night, I learned exactly why Daedalus had described a demigod's dreams as 'terrible things'.

It had been a good day up till then. Sword practice had gone well, and we'd gone over the sixth feat of Hercules, which was a lot more interesting than the usual slow-paced myths. I was feeling pretty good when I slipped into my bed and thumped face down on my pillow. My eyes were closed before the blanket had settled over my legs.

Instantly I found myself in a rainstorm in the middle of the night, on a hill that sloped down in two directions. To one side was a valley filled with sprawling woods and some sort of cultivated fields. I even spotted a volleyball court, which made me think it couldn't be too bad of a place.

The most noticeable structure was a two-story old-school farmhouse that looked out over twelve smaller building arranged in a ring. The farmhouse was painted in a simple light blue, and despite the time every one of its windows was lit.

To the other side ran a highway, the slick black asphalt winding along with nothing but grassy hills and sparse trees to see on the other side. There wasn't a car in sight, but that didn't mean it was deserted.

"It's just over the hill! Go!"

It was Thalia, bringing up the rear of a group of four at the hill's bottom, shouting them forward. She was sneaking glances over her shoulder, and I quickly saw why.

Hot on their heels was a sea of black. So many claws scrabbled against the ground that I could hear from where I was, a football field and a half away. High above flew three feminine shapes, long flaming whips glowing in their hands.

It was hellhounds, more than I could count, and all three Furies.

Grover bleated. His voice sounded terrified as he yelled, "We can make it!"

But they couldn't. The distance between them and the chasers was down to just a few feet and still shrinking. It was a coin toss whether they would even make the base of the hill, let alone the crest.

Because they were facing away I saw her before any of the others did. Thalia had brought out Aegis. It would only slow her down, there was no reason for it unless-

"I'll buy time!"

The others stopped, realizing they were down a member.

"No!" Luke and Annabeth shouted at once.

Thalia didn't listen. She lunged and ran through the first of the hellhounds, dispatching it instantly. Three more took its place before I could blink.

"It's the only way," Thalia said. "Go!"

Annabeth started to back toward Thalia, but Luke grabbed her and hoisted in the air.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth shouted, but he looked straight past her.

"You better find a way," he said to Thalia. "You better!"

He began sprinting up the hill, Annabeth shouting and struggling the whole way. Grover followed right behind, his bare hooves flying over the muddy ground.

The Furies had noticed Thalia's stand, and they now swooped in. A dance began in the air above her, flaming whips lashing out periodically whenever one thought they saw an opening. None of the strikes had connected yet but they didn't seem to mind, cackling gleefully. They knew the same thing I did: Thalia couldn't win.

The others had passed me now, reaching the top of the hill. Luke stopped and turned to watch, but Grover grabbed him and pulled him further.

"Come on!" said the satyr. "It's not safe here. The border repels monsters, but I've never seen it try with this many!"

Luke shifted out of the grip, still holding Annabeth back as the girl thrashed and cried. "No. I need to be ready to help her."

Grover looked with him down at the army that was now coating over half of the hill. "Will you be able to do anything even if you try?"

Luke still didn't move, but he also didn't answer.

More hellhounds died and even more filled the gaps they left. In the middle of the chaos one of the whips connected with Thalia's wrist. With a sizzling hiss she tore her limb away and forced the Fury to retreat with a blast of lightning, but couldn't hold back a grunt of pain.

Slowly, the fight was working its way up the hill. Whether that meant Thalia was gaining ground or that the hoard was forcing her backward, I couldn't tell. I tried to run forward, to do something, but even my legs didn't work. I was forced to watch, stationary and helpless, as my friend was slowly burnt and buried beneath the swarm.

She was getting closer and closer to me, only about ten feet away and right at the crest of the hill, when the Fury's decided enough was enough. Suddenly the whips stopped picking away and started striking fast and hard. One yanked Aegis from her wrist, letting it clatter to the soggy ground. Another pulled her spear and flung it into the misty night. The third, Alecto's, wrapped around her throat.

Annabeth screamed. Luke took a step forward. Grover covered his eyes.

"Goodbye, daughter of Zeus," said the lead Fury. "Your little friend will join you soon, and together the Fields of Punishment will welcome you. Do enjoy your stay."

She yanked, tightening the whip's grasp, and the stormy sky opened. A massive lightning bolt struck, illuminating the world as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud. The last thing I saw before my eyes snapped open and I bolted upright in my bed was Thalia fading away, a monstrous pine tree rising up in her place.

My breath came in gasps. My blanket was twisted up and clutched in my fists. Slowly, tears began to fall.

I wasn't sure exactly what I'd seen. I didn't know where it had been or what all had happened. All I knew was one thing, and that thought echoed in my head deep and booming:

Thalia Grace was dead.

Chapter Text

Eleven

A Not-So-Fun Dinner Talk

"How many sisters did Medusa have?"

The question came paired with a wicked slash. I punched the blade away, and the pinging of metal on metal filled the air. "Two. Come on, I'm not that bad of a student."

"Hm." This time the sword came from the right, high and arcing down for my neck. "In his travels, who was the woman that kept Odysseus secluded on her island for seven full years?"

"Callypso," I grunted, muscles straining as I repelled his sword. Hoping to catch him off balance, I lunged in myself.

His blade was there immediately, knocking mine away at exactly the right angle for it to pass harmlessly by him. Not willing to call it quits I went with the momentum, spinning a hundred and eighty degrees to slash at his other side.

"Who is the goddess of Strife?"

"Huh?" At the key moment I hesitated. Before I could blink a sword was at my throat.

"Eris, Percy. Come now, we went over her just a month ago."

I sighed. I'd realized early on in the six years that I'd spent with him that Daedalus's sense of time had become warped over the thousands of years he'd been alive. Years had become like months to him, months like days, and days like minutes.

"Well," I said, "maybe if you didn't insist on quizzing me while we spar…"

Daedalus tossed his sword to the side and let it clatter haphazardly onto the ground- the closest he ever got to outright putting things away. My mom would've had a heart attack if she could've seen how messily he kept his space.

"If I didn't quiz you now, I'd never manage to pin you down for it. Are you saying you would prefer to sit and take a written test?"

"Well when you put it that way, bring on the violence."

I helped him get his leather chest piece off, then he helped with mine. As always, the sudden range of movement felt like heaven on my shoulders. I rolled them until they clicked.

"So," I said, "what else is on the menu for today? More lectures? Reflex training?"

"For me, tinkering." Daedalus had already made it back to his favorite table, the one where he kept his really special projects. "And for you?"

He pointed to the corner without looking up, toward a recently constructed three-layer fountain. Water was spewing from the mouths of four little cupid statues on it, down into a wide basin. Salt water, if you were to check.

"Can't it be something else?" I groaned.

"Would you prefer a reading assignment?"

I only had to think about it for a second. "Yes."

That was enough to drag Daedalus's eyes off of his inventions. Even his fingers stopped fiddling, the surest way to tell when he was really shocked. "It's gotten that bad?"

I shrugged. "I'm sure there're people out there that would love watching a fountain for a few months straight. It really isn't my thing, though."

"But for you to get no reaction, none at all… It doesn't make any sense."

"I'm trying," I said, reluctantly approaching my burbling nemesis once more. "But it's just- watch."

I threw my hands out, searching for the feeling of my stomach falling out that always came when I controlled water. For a second, this brief flash, I thought I felt it. Then it was gone, and the water was still trickling from those fat stone baby lips just as it had been before.

"See?"

"That doesn't make any sense," Daedalus repeated. He had his thinking face on, the one he wore whenever he was searching for a kink that was causing one of his designs to fail. I thought it made him look constipated, but I hadn't found the right time to tell him that yet.

"There's simply no reason for you to have regressed, not with five more years under your belt."

I held up my hands. "Yeah, well…"

Any further discussion was cut off by something on Daedalus's desk shrieking to life with a noise like an alarm clock inspired by dying birds. He spun, spitting curses in ancient Greek, and snapped up what looked like a bright red typewriter, beginning to mash its buttons.

"What is that?" I asked loudly, trying to be heard over the wailing. He didn't answer, mashing another ten buttons until the contraption shut up.

"Nothing to worry about," he finally said, once he was convinced the noise was done. He was staring at something else now, some sort of sheet the contraption had spit out. Whatever it said was making his forehead crease.

I came up behind him. "Did something happen?"

Frustratingly, he shifted the sheet to the other side, keeping me from getting a look at it.

"Just an update." He crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into his pocket.

"Come on," I complained. "Let me see it."

He covered his mouth with a hand. "You, asking me to let you read something? Are you feeling quite alright?"

"Yes," I deadpanned. "I've completely lost it. Call the doctor."

Daedalus pushed me away with a hand on my shoulder. "Something tells me what he would prescribe, is a shower."

"Are you saying that I stink?" I asked.

"Well, now that you've put it that way yourself…"

I rolled my eyes and tromped away. At the doorway I called, "You're just lucky you don't sweat any more, metal man. No need to rub it in."

It didn't even look like he heard me, already drawn back into that strange device and whatever it was churning out for his eyes only.

I knew something was up from the moment Daedalus brought a book to the dinner table.

Even his showing up there was unusual. His automaton body could go a lot longer without food than ordinary fleshy ones, and when a project caught his attention it might be weeks between him settling in for meals.

But tonight he was there, pushing aside an empty plate to make room for a book that looked almost as heavy as me. The leather-bound cover looked old and worn, and when he creaked it open and flicked through the pages dust rose into the air.

"What's that?" I asked, coughing on the grime.

"A book."

"You know, somehow I'd already gotten that."

Daedalus scanned a page, folded its corner, then returned to leafing through. "It is an Encyclopedia, Percy."

I nodded, putting on my best 'I know what that word means' face. "So it's like a tornado, right?"

"That would be a cyclone."

He paused his search just long enough to stare me in the eye, disappointed. I shrugged. If they really wanted people to know what the word meant they shouldn't have made it so long.

"So what's it about?"

"Myths and creatures," Daedalus said. "It's one of many such books I've made over the years. Of course most have been replaced by my laptop, but this is one of a few that remains unuploaded; it really is a dreadful pain to copy every bit out in digital form.

I took a big bite of reheated spaghetti. "Why'd you bust it out now? There must be something specific you're after."

"Don't talk with your mouth open, it's bad manners," he said. "But yes, there is one entry in particular that I'm- Aha! Here it is." He spun the book around to face me, pointing to tae bold title at the top of the page.

"Androktasiai," I sounded out, thankful the book had the decency to be written in Ancient Greek. If I'd had to read a word that long in English, I'd have been there all night.

"Indeed." Daedalus traced his finger down the page, pointing out parts as he spoke. "Daughters of the goddess Eris – see why she's important to know, Percy? – and spirits of Manslaughter. Immortal unless killed in battle, and obsessed from conception to demise with acts of violence."

I slurped down a pasta strand. "They sound cheerful."

"As a testament to their prowess, they are one of the beings to be represented on Hercules' shield. Originally there were many of them, but between their violent nature and their inability to reproduce they have slowly dwindled out of recent history." Daedalus slammed the book closed and looked up. "But they can still be found, if one knows where to look."

I studied his face, taking in the eager look of anticipation. He had an idea.

I didn't like when he had ideas. They usually went boom. Generally near me.

"What are you planning, old man?"

"What makes you think I've planned something?"

I groaned and thumped my forehead against the table, careful to miss my plate. "Planned. So it's already done. Yay."

"Your confidence in me speaks volumes."

"Well," I said, sullenly pulling my head back up, "your plans do tend to do bad things to me."

He leaned his chair back, letting the front two legs come up off the ground. "Please, when was the last time-"

"The blender."

He frowned. "Well, other than that-"

"The piñata, the deck of cards, the tweezers," I listed off. "Oh, and we can't forget the fridge magnets." I shivered. "Why would you need weaponized decorations on your fridge in the first place?"

"You never know when monsters might attack," Daedalus said. "And the magnets only exploded because I meant them to, just like half of that list."

"I know," I said. "That's what scares me."

He crossed his arms with a dramatized sigh. "So mean," he said. "And here I thought you wanted to learn the spear."

I froze. "Hold on. Spear?"

"Oh yes, didn't I mention that?" He smirked. "I suppose you didn't give me the chance to get that far."

I waved for him to go on, mouth shut tight. After years working with only my sword, I'd been waiting impatiently for the chance to bring out Anthea again. My only brief lessons with it had come from Thalia, and leaving it untouched seemed wrong, like I was wasting the start she'd given me.

"I won't be of any help to you," Daedalus said. "Not with that weapon. My experience begins and ends with the sword. But that does not mean that I can't find a proper teacher."

I remembered the start of our conversation. "You mean the andrik- No, the adioni-"

"Androktasiai," he corrected, "but yes. Few beings can match them for experience with the weapon, and they have been known to take students in the past. Provided the prospective pupils impress them, of course."

"Meaning?" I asked.

"Meaning show you are worth teaching and they will teach you. It is not the easiest of tasks, but I believe you can manage it."

I pushed away my now-cold pasta and stood up. "So we track down one of these things, toss me at it, and I'll do the rest?"

"That would be the gist of it, yes."

"Awesome." I grinned. "When do I leave?"

"The day after tomorrow, if you'd have it. One day to clear your head and prepare." When he saw me nod he began to shift, eyes going to the floor.

"You know," he started, "there is one other thing to address. Do you wish to do this?"

I opened my mouth to say of course, but he held up a hand to stop me.

"Think it over a moment, before you decide. I know the spear is important to you, that it reminds you of your friend. But, jokes aside, those that follow my plans have a history of meeting ugly fates."

"Come on," I said, not used to the look plastered across the old inventor's face, "you're still here, aren't you? It seems like they're working out just fine."

He met my eyes. "I am trapped in my own creation, hiding away from death for all of time to avoid the torture that would await me after it. And that is more than can be said for others. All I ask is that you do not trust my judgments automatically. For both of our sakes."

He looked so sad that, for a moment, he looked his full age. It wasn't like he grew wrinkles or anything, just something in his eyes. "I suppose," he said, "that I should not put it off any longer."

"Put off what any longer?"

"Yes," he said, ignoring my question entirely. "Yes, I suppose it is time."

He stood, tucked his hands behind his back, and slowly approached his favorite area of the workshop, the glass wall. Not sure what else to do, I followed. Outside the window was the most common view- massive spires of rocks, a sprawling city in the space behind them, and looming mountains past that. The Garden of the Gods, Colorado.

"Sometimes," Daedalus said, "I believe the Labyrinth is mocking me. That that's why it is only high places that I look out upon. Places with great drops…" He shook his head. "Where to even pick it up."

I gave him time. Eventually, after a moment, he asked:

"The Labyrinth. What do you remember of its conception?"

"Hmm," I thought for a second. "You built it for a king, right? He wanted somewhere for the minotaur to be kept and that was the best way to do it, a maze that he wouldn't be able to find his way out of."

"Correct," Daedalus said, "if a bit sparse. The king was named Minos, the ruler of the island kingdom of Crete, and the Minotaur itself was-"

"His wife's kid, right?" I said. "With a bull."

Daedalus smiled, though it was thinner than usual. "So you remember that."

"Believe me," I said, pulling a face, "that's not easy to forget."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't be." He laid his fingers on the glass, pressing down the tips. "The Labyrinth fulfilled its function, holding the minotaur in. And when Minos looked for revenge against Athens following the death of his son, the Labyrinth did that, as well."

"Every seven years fourteen young Athenians were taken- the fairest young women and the bravest young men. This continued until the third time when the heir to Athens, Theseus, volunteered himself."

He stopped, prompting me to take over.

"Theseus killed the Minotaur, right?" It was one myths I knew the best. "He stabbed it with its own horn, and found his way out with the string Ariadne gave him."

"And who gave her the idea for the string?"

"You, right?"

"Indeed. Me." Slowly, Daedalus's fingers slid down the glass and clenched into a fist. "When Minos discovered my actions shortly after the hero's departure, he did not take it kindly. Apollo warned me once, back when I was first constructing the Labyrinth, not to allow it a malevolent conscience. It was not until I was cast into my own creation that I wished I'd taken his advice."

I kept quiet, waiting. The labyrinth, Theseus and Ariadne… It wasn't that it was boring, but I'd heard it all before. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was different this time. Something was coming. I just wished he'd get to the point.

"I know, I know. You've heard all of this before."

I blushed. Caught.

"But what you haven't heard," he carried on, "is that my prison was not mine alone."

"But I thought Ariadne escaped with Theseus?"

"She did, at least from away from Crete. It was not her that was consigned with me, but my assistant and student. My son, Icarus."

I wasn't sure why the idea surprised me so much. Maybe it was trying to picture Daedalus as a person with a normal body and a real family. Or maybe it was just because he hadn't mentioned it once in the six years I'd been with him.

A barrage of burning questions sped through my head, but for some reason the only thing that would come out of my mouth was, "I've heard that name."

He ran his free hand, the one not resting on the glass, through his hair. "I'd expect so. His story has become… something of a fable, even in the modern world. A cautionary tale, often told to children."

That didn't sound good. "What happened to him?" I asked.

"An oversight. Minos had barred us deep in the Labyrinth's depths, but he still coveted my inventions. He had a forge installed, and with it came a path to freedom: the sky."

Daedalus spun and began to walk briskly across the room, weaving between the cluttered tables. I scrambled after him, following his path and trying not to bump anything off onto the floor.

"We had to fly," Daedalus declared as he walked. "And so we did."

He approached a door to a storeroom and pulled it open with no hesitation, flicking on a light on the other side. I paced after him, taking in a room I'd only seen once or twice before. It was one of a few areas of the workshop usually kept off-limits to me.

And now I saw why. Stretched across the walls, carefully hung, were sets of wings. There were five of them in total- two silver, two bronze, and one strikingly gold. Even from across the room I could see the details on them, each of the thousands of feathers meticulously fashioned and positioned.

"You made these," I said. "You made these in a cell."

"No," he corrected, "I made a prototype. If we'd had these…" For a moment his eyes unfocused. "Well, then things would have been different."

He set his jaw. "But we did not. The adhesive, the wax, it was not fit for the journey. Minos discovered the plan before it had properly set. I warned him of the danger, but escape excited Icarus. He flew too high. And when the sun's rays melted the wax, his feathers began to shed."

Daedalus was right in front of one of the wings now, and he reached out to caress its grooves. The hurt on his face was both intense and familiar. I'd seen it on my own face, whenever I thought too long or hard about my mom.

Not that that meant I had any idea what to say. So I stood aside and watched, waiting for him to give me some sort of queue.

"That's why," Daedalus said, his hand finally trailing all the way back down to his side as faced me. "That's why I must know. Do you want to follow my plan?"

"Come on," I said, "That was what? A thousand years ago? This will be fine."

"And yet I haven't learned my lesson." Daedalus smiled tiredly. "How close was I, five years ago, to repeating my mistake. Had Mrs. O'Leary not found you when she did, or the Furies been slightly quicker, we would not be having this conversation. Overconfidence, I find myself reminded, is not a foe I can seem to defeat, no matter how often it costs me."

I could see where he was coming from. He always tried to make things work out, and when the pieces didn't fall exactly how he expected them to, it made sense that he would blame himself. But at the same time, the idea pissed me off.

I said, "Who took Ariadne's String and headed into the Labyrinth?"

"You," he said. "But it was according to my plan. I orchestrated things-"

"Sure," I said, "you let me do it. But you never told me to. It was my decision to leave, and if it got me killed that would've been at least as much on me as it would've been on you."

Another small smile, the polite type you give someone that doesn't really understand what they're saying. "Thank you, Percy. I appreciate the sentiment. But it was because of me that you could act on that decision. If it had ended in disaster-"

"Then it would've been your fault?" I crossed my arms. "Nuh uh. No way. Even if the door was unlocked I still tried to open it. And," I took a deep breath, "and if someone flies too high after you warned them not to, that's not all your fault, either."

"No," he shook his head as if trying to shake my words back out of his ears. "No, stop. I came to terms with this a long time ago, and I am long past the point of burying my head in the sand."

"Really? Because it seems to me like that's exactly what you're doing." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I didn't give him the chance. "I get it. I can't convince you by talking. So instead, I'm going to track down this Andikotasi, learn from her, and come back perfectly fine."

He watched me closely for a moment. Then he sighed. "It's Androktasiai."

That was all he said. He walked past me, waited till I'd followed him out of the room, flicked off the light, and shut the door. Even after that he didn't speak, just went to one of his tables and returned to work. I turned and headed for my room.

I had a day, but I was going to pack early and well. I had a job to do, and a stubborn old fart to prove wrong.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

A Little Girl Beats Me Up

The next morning my head was packed full of thoughts. Shocking, I know.

In the shower, getting dressed, eating breakfast- the whole time I went over things again and again. What supplies I'd need. How to make sure I didn't mess this up. It wasn't until Daedalus, who'd given me nothing but space since our conversation the night before, sat me firmly down in front of a whiteboard that the thoughts slipped into the background.

"Planning time," was all he would say while setting up, as if that explained everything. Which I guess it did. Where I was going, how I'd get there, how long I'd stay… all of it was still up in the air to me.

Finally he pulled the cap off a green dry erase marker and set to writing. The first word was "Where" and beneath that he quickly scribbled "Antietam".

"Androktasiai," Daedalus said, "are attracted to sites of mass death. In Greece they trailed the Spartan armies. Throughout both World Wars they could be found along the frontlines. Since the West's shift to America, their options have been somewhat more limited. Rather than immerse themselves in current battles, they've been forced to settle for past ones."

He rapped the plastic end of his marker against the board. "Antietam, Maryland. Cite of the bloodiest battle in American history. Twenty-three thousand casualties in a single day. If an Androktasiai will be anywhere, they'll be here."

"Hold up," I said. "If?"

He shrugged. "I believe they're still out there, but it has been a long time since I laid eyes on one. There's always the chance that there actually are none left."

"Well, that's fantastic. You're really making me feel good about my chances here."

"I am confident," he said. "At least eighty percent. Probably closer to eighty-two point five. And if it turns out to be wrong, you'll just be using this a bit earlier than anticipated."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out something small and blue, tossing it to me. I caught it and found a small whistle made of what looked like ice and felt twice as cold.

"Keep an eye on that," Daedalus told me. "It's called Stygian Ice, straight from the River Styx. I've only got a few of them in reserve, and I've no wish to break out another just because one was misplaced. Blow it once, anywhere, and Mrs. O'Leary will come running. But be careful! It will break after use, so make sure to time it right. Once you use it, that's your only ride back."

"So even if I find the Androkasiai, I'll have to use it at some point?" I asked, pocketing the whistle to get it out of my freezing palm. "That eems like a waste if it's so valuable."

"It is a shame," Daedalus agreed. "But unfortunately, it's necessary. We've no way to know how long you'll be there. It could be anything from a month to several. And unless you'd like to try and take your chances finding your way back through the Labyrinth, this will have to do."

"Maybe," he said after a pause, "If I could've sent you with Ariadne's string, we would've had another option."

He trailed off, looking at me innocently, and I groaned.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry for giving away your toy."

"To demigods," he added. "The children of the exact beings I'm attempting to hide from."

"I know. I apologized for that already. Multiple times. But they won't use it to rat you out. They aren't like that."

"You're certain," he said, "I am not. Times change things, and people too. You never know what sort of offers they'll receive, if they even still hold it." He saw that I wasn't convinced and sighed. "You'll see."

With those words his eyes flicked across the room, over toward the typewriter-like machine that had kicked up a fuss the day before. I decided to move things back on topic before we got sucked further into the old argument.

"So Mrs. O'Leary takes me there, drops me off, and I find this possibly-there teacher," I listed off.

"In not so many words, yes."

"Great," I said. "Do you have any more crucial bits of info, or am I all ready to be seen off?"

"Just one."

Daedalus hunched down over the whiteboard and scrawled something in big letters. When he finished he stepped aside, revealing one succinct message:

Pack lots of underwear.

O-O-O-O-O

Unsurprisingly, shadow travel hadn't gotten any more fun in the half a decade since I'd experienced it. I came out the other side gasping and staggering, the muggy afternoon that enveloped me feeling like paradise after the frigid cold from moments before.

At my side Mrs. O'Leary barked, though it lacked the usual energy. Long-distance trips always left her a little tuckered. She looked up at me, asking the silent question.

"Go on," I told her. "I'll be fine from here girl."

She gave me the best lick she could manage, drenching four articles of clothing in one go. Then, with a final subdued bark, she leapt back into the shadow we'd come from and disappeared from sight.

With my ride gone I went over my things one more time. Spare clothes, a few bottles of water, and the Stygian Ice whistle. It was nestled at the bottom of my backpack, and that was where I left it, undisturbed.

I shifted aside a pair of pants and pulled out one of the bottles of water, zipping the bag shut and shouldering it when I was done. While the heat of the Maryland summer still felt like a blessing I knew that would change quickly. So I took a swig from the bottle, kept it at my side, and started to walk.

Mrs. O'Leary had dropped me just past the visitor's center, which I was thankful for. I could see price signs up behind me and I wasn't exactly in the mood to spend ten bucks on a day pass, even if Daedalus had packed me a fair chunk of emergency funds.

So instead I started down the path of shiny white gravel that wound onto the battlefield itself, two green banks running on either side with old-timey wooden fences at the crests.

It wasn't too crowded. Maybe because it was a Thursday, safe from weekend crowds. Tourists milled around here and there, some following after brown vested tour guides while others meandered aimlessly. Up ahead of me, behind a particularly harried-looking guide, was like a school trip. A bunch of elementary schoolers chatting and yelling and being as generally obnoxious as kids that age ought to be.

With no idea where to head, I settled on forward. Somewhere out here was an immortal spirit of violence. Now it was on me to find them.

I passed by a tour group and checked them out as stealthily as I could. The most interesting thing about them was a pair of moles on one of the guys' cheek, and I ruled them out.

Next up was an elderly couple. Somewhere in their seventies, they looked straight out of an advertisement for assisted living. The sort of wrinkly love birds that would stare into the camera with welcoming smiles and coax their fellow seniors into busting out the retirement funds. The woman was reminding the man that she'd packed sandwiches, and I ruled them out too. There was something peaceful about sandwiches that just didn't mesh with my image of manslaughter. Incarnations of violence, I was sure, would eat more along the lines of meatballs, or maybe something spicy.

For the next hour or so I worked my way further down the winding path, covertly sizing up group after group with nothing to show for it. And even still, I'd only covered a tiny sliver of the total area. It was just settling in what an enormous task this could be when a voice spoke behind me.

"Looking for something?"

I turned and found one of the field trip kids from earlier looking quizzically. A little girl with midnight black hair and a backpack with bright yellow straps. I shook my head.

"No, I'm just… enjoying the sights."

The sights were actually pretty dreary. Mostly it was just fields, little signs scattered here and there marking where some important event or another had happened a million years ago. Even the cannons, what should've been the ringer, looked so old and chipped that I wouldn't have been surprised if they fell apart in front of my eyes.

Despite all this the girl's face lit up.

"Isn't it wonderful?" she asked.

"Is it? I mean right, it totally is. Really interesting."

"Like right there," she pointed over my shoulder at a hill that looked exactly the same as all the others I'd seen. "That's where the Union army conducted a cavalry charge, straight at the Confederate lines. Do you have any idea how many died in that spot alone?"

Her smile didn't shrink a bit as she asked the question. In fact she was practically bouncing in place.

"No, I don't know."

"Thirty thousand," she said instantly. "Thir-ty thou-sand."

"That… really is a lot."

She giggled. "Oh it's tons. So, so many."

In the background I could see her class, pretty far away and getting further. She didn't seem to notice or care- and neither did they. No one spun around to collect their lost member. No one shouted for her to follow before she got left behind.

"Your class is leaving," I said.

"My what?" She looked down and blinked, as if noticing her own body for the first time. "Oh, I forgot about that. Don't worry, I can at least tell you about the Union's flanking tactics before seeing if I feel like catching up."

I frowned. "I appreciate it, but I'm kind of busy. I have to find someone."

"If they're worth finding they'll be over here." She turned and began skipping off across the white gravel. "Follow me."

I thought about not doing it, but I had a feeling that I should. Odd individuals tended to know other odd individuals, and if there was one thing I could count on my teacher being it was odd.

Despite my longer legs it was a challenge to keep up with the girl. Somewhere along the way she'd begun to whistle, giving sharp high notes between every skip. She seemed so out of place among somber tourists that I expected everyone to stop and stare, but no one gave her a second glance.

Or even a first. Everyone looked straight past her as if she weren't there. As if she didn't exist to them. Without slowing I slipped Aelia from my pocket, holding it in my fist to keep it both ready and out of sight. It didn't hurt to prepare for the worst.

When she finally came to a stop it was at a far more secluded area than any of the others I'd seen so far. Somewhere along the way the fences had ended, leaving the path to amble freely across on open meadow toward a patch of woods. A distance away ran a creek and, in the opposite direction, a lonely sign pointed out something that no one seemed to care enough about to pay a visit.

My guide was waiting for me to catch up, her head at a forty-five-degree angle. Now that the sun was hitting them, I could see specks of red mixed into her brown eyes.

"I thought you said there were people here?" I asked. The only ones I could see were a young couple helping themselves picnic at least 300 yards back the way we'd come. I shifted my grip on Aelia, making sure I could draw it on a moment's notice.

"I lied," said the girl, sounding utterly unremorseful. "Did you know, right where we're standing, the most blood was shed in the entire battle? Think of it all, gushing and velvety, painting this very ground."

I looked around, seeing if I was missing something. "Shouldn't there be, like, more stuff here? If it was so important then where're all the signs?"

"About a quarter of a mile that way." She pointed past me, away over the creek. "It's quite a sight, memorials and informational plaques every other step. Really their hearts are in the right place, even if they don't havethe right place."

"So you're saying they've got the history wrong?"

She nodded solemnly. "Dreadfully wrong."

"But how do you know?"

"Because," she said, smiling toothily, "I was there."

She jabbed a toe into the dirt and all around us noise sprung up. Men's voices screaming and the banging of gunpowder-induced explosions. The sounds of war. Specters rose up, rushing in every direction or already laying still on the ground.

"Whoa," I said, mesmerized by the scene. A man with sideburns and a handlebar mustache rushed by with a musket in his hands. I reached out to touch him but he passed straight through me, his shoulder parting and reknitting around my hand with a steaming hiss.

"This is what everyone is here for," said the girl, except she wasn't a girl anymore. Rather than a prepubescent squeak the voice was deep and baritone. When I looked over, I found a figure three times her originally height decked out like some sort of postapocalyptic raider.

On one of her broad shoulders was a leather pauldron outfitted with a huge spike. If I ever needed someone to shoulder-barge down a door, I knew who to call. Halfway down her torso, right around her ribs, her outfit changed from leather armor to camo fatigues, which themselves stretched down to her ankles where tightly laced combat boots took over. On her left hand she wore a fingerless glove, and on the right a rusted brass knuckle.

She had a rounded chin and meaty cheeks so wide they gave the term blockhead a new, literal meaning. Her nose was sharp and angular. Pencil-thin lips were pulled into a small smile. Along her forehead ran a steel headband decorated with spikes, from under which she was watching my face closely, judging my reaction to the events around us.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked.

Just a few feet to my left a man found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, and went down screaming. I looked away, barely keeping my breakfast where it was supposed to be.

"This is how differences should be solved," she continued, nodding in agreement with her own words. "No talking, parlaying, politics, none of that bullshit. Just man against man, racing to inflict violence."

"It's terrible," I said. It felt like standing smack in the middle of a nightmare, only much more vivid and loud.

"It's honest is what it is." The woman crouched next to an image of a dead soldier and pressed a finger to the back of his head. "Private Laswell Corbel of Acushnet Massachusetts. A wife, two daughters, and a son back home, along with a profitable cobbling business. And he was willing to leave all that behind, so great was his desire to kill the confederates he despised. That is conviction."

Somewhere in my chest the first bits of anger flared. "Something tells me his family wouldn't see it that way."

"He would," she said, gesturing to the downed man. Then she pointed a finger at my chest. "You should."

"And why's that?"

She stood, rising to her full height- emphasis on full. She wasn't the tallest being I'd ever seen (that honor belonged to a certain pair of restaurant-playing Laistrygonian giants) but she wasn't a million miles off, just a foot-and-a-half or so. The cannon balls and musket pellets flying around us reflected in her red-speckled eyes, making them swim and flow like rivers of bloody mud.

"You're here," she said. "Here for me. Only one reason anyone does that, and it's to fight. To learn how to kill better, straight from the best." She spread her arms wide, as if trying to embrace every bit of the chaos around us in one massive bearhug. "This is it! What you see is what you seek, violence for violence's sake! If it isn't? Well, you're in the wrong place, kid."

Something in the way she said it, vaguely threatening, set my spine shivering. Anfisa formed in my hand. Insurance.

When she saw the sword, the woman nodded. "That's more like it. The right idea. But still not quite right."

Just like when she conjured the scenes of war she touched the ground, just this time with a hand instead of a foot. Pressing her palm flat against the dirt, she slowly clenched her fingers and drew it into the air. From the earth, through the puddles of illusory blood, rose a twelve-foot spear that would've looked comical in almost anyone else's hands.

The tip was a mottled mix of red and black, like the embers of a campfire that was about to die. The blade was thin, no wider than my hand held out flat, but that only made its glistening edges look all the more deadly. The weapon's shaft was entirely free of adornment- solid grey and as smooth as the paint on my stepfather's precious Camaro.

"Well?" She said, staring at me expectantly.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to ditch the toothpick," she nodded to my sword, "or am I going to have to force you to."

Truth be told, I really didn't want to. I could fight with a sword. I knew how to use it- when to slash, block and stab. With a spear? Well, I was almost as much of a threat to myself as to whoever I was fighting. If this did come to a fight, and I needed to protect myself from the violence-crazed quasi-immortal eyeing me like a snack, Anfisa was my best bet.

And yet, Daedalus had sent me here for a reason. I had a task to do. So, with a nervous few clicks of my hand, Anfisa morphed into Anthea. When she saw it, the woman gave a hearty nod and chuckled, a noise that sounded eerily similar to the booms from the nearby cannons.

"That's more like it!" She hoisted her spear with one hand, as if it were much lighter than it looked. "Now, the fun part!"

No more words. She came at me like a freight train, bursting through the specters between us as effortlessly as if they were branches on the tracks. I tried to strike first, lunging in to keep her from running me through with all that momentum.

Danger!

Giving into instinct I sprung to the side. The space where I'd stood was pierced a moment later, that absurdly long spear having reached over the distance while the woman was still steps away.

She gave a grin, revealing a mouth of unnaturally pearly teeth. "You aren't useless! Good!"

I carefully brushed dirt from my shoulder, watching her intently. She seemed to be waiting for me to come at her this time, content to watch me back. Problem was, I had no idea where to start. Her reach had mine beat by about two times- any attempt to get close was more likely to hurt me than her.

But at the same time, I had to do something. If she got up another head of steam I wasn't confident in my surviving the experience. So I pushed down the logical part of my brain, the part that was screaming that this was a bad idea, and charged.

I'd fought enemies bigger than me before, and I still remembered bits from Thalia's training. Both of those had one lesson in common: dodge, dodge, and dodge again. I tried to watch my opponent every step of the way, to see exactly when and where the first attack would be coming from.

There, above! I darted left, letting the spear pass beside me before going in for a stab of my own. Anthea moved closer and closer, homing in on the gap in her chest piece over the armpit.

The warning instinct blared through my head again. I did my best to duck, but it was already far too late. The shaft of her spear smashed into my shoulder like a staff, sending me skipping across the dry ground. I burst through a confederate corpse in a puff of smoke and smacked to a rest against a firm, very much corporeal Oaktree.

My world was sideways. Every heave of my chest sent needles up and down my body. Striding toward me were three of the behemoth woman, each of the copies wobbling and trading places in my blurry vision.

Somehow, I found my feet again. I don't know if it was my pride refusing to let me go down so easily, or fear of what would happen to me if I did. Whatever it was, I prayed it wouldn't run out.

The woman was taking a leisurely pace now, spear used like a walking stick rather than the deadly weapon it was. "So," she said, meandering to a stop, "you're still up. Better than the last few, at least. But is that everything?"

I didn't think; just moved. The ground between us disappeared, covered in a stumbling run. The only thought on my mind was hitting her. One good hit would be enough, then I could rest.

She looked bored as she went to fend me off with the same attack as before. When I dodged left, her expression didn't change. She went for the same sweeping that'd sent me into the tree. I jumped straight into the air, and her eyes widened.

Up, up, up. I put everything into getting as much height as I could. And when the spear shaft swung through the space I'd just been, I stepped on it, propelling myself at the wielder in a last, desperate strike for the head.

Her neck snapped to the side, ear pressing against her shoulder, my strike missing its mark. Mostly. A long, thin cut stretched the length of her cheek.

And then, before I could touch the ground again, a meaty hand caught my throat and suspended me in the air. Her other hand dropped her spear and grabbed my wrist, squashing the possibility of any follow-up attacks. My legs kicked uselessly, caught.

"Excellent!" she shouted. Blood was dribbling down her cheek, but she looked the happiest I'd seen her. "Fighting spirit, battle tactics, strong will. You… pass!"

She leaned in, close enough for me to feel her sticky breath on my face, thick like blood. "You can call me-"

Before she could finish I reared back. Gaining all the momentum I could in my trapped state, I channeled it all straight through my forehead into her face.

It felt like headbutting a steel wall. A headache set in before I'd even pulled back. But when I got a look at her the woman's nose was worse- distinctly flat with blood already dribbling out one nostril. If anything, her smile had grown.

"Andi," she said, "that's what you'll call me. And we, the two of us, have so much to do." She blinked, train of thought broken. "Right, before I forget."

She hucked me into the same tree I'd struck before, letting me thump into it a second painful time. Then she walked closer and crouched.

"There, now we're even. So, kid, two questions: You got a name, and are you ready to get started?"

Still panting I pulled my head up, taking in the raw excitement on her face. My whole body was torn to shreds, I was barely thinking straight, and she looked like she wanted round two about five seconds ago.

One clear thought cut through the haze in my head: this was going to be a long few months.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

We Play Dodgeball: Hard Edition

The next morning I was up bright and early. And by that I mean Andi had me up bright and early, dragging me into the air by the ankles before letting gravity take over. It wasn't a fun way to wake up, but compared to the time Mrs. O'Leary found her way into my room at four in the morning I'd take it. At least this way was dry.

"Morning, sunshine," Andi said with a beaming smile. She was dressed exactly the same as the day before, except this time with a duffle bag large enough to fit a full-sized body strapped over her shoulder. I sincerely hoped it wasn't meant for me by the end of the day.

"Morning," I yawned back.

She leaned in and cuffed me, which with the size difference sent me straight back into the ground.

"Louder!" she shouted. "I want to hear the enthusiasm in my bones!"

I spit out dust. "Your nose felt my enthusiasm yesterday. Is that enough?"

"I felt something from a love tap like that? Please. Now come, a day's wasted on talk."

She would've been more convincing if her right nostril wasn't still slightly skewed to the side, but I kept that thought to myself.

As I followed after her, I crossed the surprisingly nice camp she'd dragged me to after the test. There was no tent, but a slanted sheet of aluminum held up by four wooden posts gave more than enough shelter. There must've been some sort of magic worked on it, too, because the structure was only a mile or so from the visitor center and yet no one had reported it.

Supplies were kept simple and practical. Andi's XXL sleeping bag that dwarfed the one I'd brought lay open. Three sets of pans and utensils, two silver and one bronze, were piled near a basin for washing and a large watercooler. A few cups were scattered atop a small, fold-out table. And just out from under the shelter the was ashes of a campfire, surrounded on three sides by piles of chopped wood. Andi had lit it the night before, reluctantly, when she'd realized I was in no condition to continue training. I liked that. She also muttered under her breath the whole time about "double sessions, to make up for lost time." That I didn't like.

"So what do we start with?" I asked as we passed out of the camp. "Sparring?"

"Sparring?" She bellowed out a laugh. "Think a lot of yourself, do you? That you can hang around with me?"

"It's how I learned with a sword."

"Then you didn't have me for a teacher."

I frowned. "Obviously. You use a spear, and I met you yesterday."

"Don't be pedantic."

She hoped across a small creek in one bound. I clambered from bank to bank, trying not to pick up too much mud in the process.

"Well, what's your approach, then?" I asked.

"Fighting," she said, "is like building a house. The first thing you put in is the foundation. Try to start anywhere else, and the whole thing crumbles. So that's what we're doing right now- laying your foundation."

We'd reached a stretch of empty ground more secluded than where we'd fought the day before, but otherwise similar. To one side scraggy trees slowly grew more common until they achieved full-fledged foresthood. In the other three directions it was just grassy hills, indistinguishable from each other and from the other hundred lumps I'd laid eyes on since my arrival.

The soft noise of rushing water hummed from the creek we'd crossed, probably the same one we'd fought near the day before. Over it, insects and birds chirped and sang. Mixed with the smell of the fresh morning air, it made for quite a peaceful scene.

If only it lasted.

"Alright!" Andi shouted. "Spear, out!"

I jolted, hands blockily grabbing at my weapon. By the time Anthea formed seconds later a frown was etched on my teacher's face.

"You think that was quick?"

I shook my head. "Not real-"

"Rhetorical!" she yelled. "And of course it wasn't! You think a monster will give you all morning to prepare? That a Hydra is going to let you catch your breath, maybe grab a drink, all while waiting patiently?"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe if I ask nicely."

"They certainly won't be stopping to laugh at your little jokes." She leered at me, her bladed hairband catching the sun's light on each of its five points. "From now on, that weapon is your eleventh finger. Your fifth limb. Your second-"

"Alright. Got it. It'll be a part of me."

"Not just a part of you," she said. "The part of you."

Just like she had the day before she dropped a hand to the ground to pull out her spear, letting the duffle bag she'd brought slide off in the same motion. As soon as her hands slid into ready positions, she brought the weapon flat with her torso.

"Watch," she told me. "No do-overs for wandering attention."

She lunged. That was it; just one step forward, dashing the weapon a few feet out and back, and one step back to the position she'd started in.

"That's it?"

She looked over. Her expression was like a surgeon's mid-operation.

"That's it," she said. "Now keep it up for seven."

I adjusted my grip as best as I could to match hers, spread my legs slightly, and struck the air.

"Was that good?"

She tilted her head. "You tell me. Again."

So I did it another time. Then another. The motion became a bit more familiar with each repetition, and by the seventh I felt that some small progress had been made.

As I drew back and rested Anthea against the ground, Andi's voice stopped me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Stopping? That was seven."

"No," she said. "That was seven repetitions. You have…" she pulled out an old-fashioned silver pocket watch and checked it. "About six hours and fifty-eight minutes left to go."

I waited for her to say "Ha, got you!" and show me what to do next.

She didn't.

O-O-O-O-O

If you're ever in the unlikely situation to be training under an Androktasiai, my advice is to bring lots of spare clothes- and I mean lots. If the sweating doesn't get to them the grime definitely will. By the end of the first day I was a sticky dust-covered mess of exhaustion.

As I lay sprawled flat on my back staring at the emerging stars, a weight settled gently onto my stomach. When I dragged my head up, I found a steaming bronze bowl of stew.

"Eat," Andi said, already returning to the open fire and the huge pot bobbling over it. Her voice was a far cry from the drill sergeant screaming I'd been subjected to all day, but still came across as just as commanding.

Moving sounded like a horrible idea. But the smell had already reached me and it was like a fire had been lit in my stomach. I was starving, and really, compared to a spear what was lifting a spoon?

When the first bite hit my mouth my taste buds exploded.

Living with Daedalus had a lot of benefits, but the food wasn't one. He was quite the cook, but he couldn't stand the time it took up. I'd picked up some recipes from him, but it wasn't easy to buckle down and focus with my naturally impaired demigod attention span. That left one option for most meals- the microwave.

Don't get me wrong, I loved instant noodles as much as the next guy. Probably more. But sometimes you wanted a good old-fashioned home-cooked meal, like, say, a bowl of freshly mixed stew. And gods, was this good stew.

"Enjoying it?" Andi was looking at me, peering over the cast-iron pot as she stirred, the ladle clinking against its edges. "Eat till your full. There's as many servings here as you'll need."

I smiled gratefully and took another spoonful. There was no way I was wasting any time on words with this in my hands.

Soon enough my bowl was drained and it was like energy had seeped back into my limbs. I pulled myself up and moved across to her, eagerly holding out my bowl for the promised refill.

"Seconds?" Andi asked, setting aside her own dinner when I nodded.

I watched her carefully spoon up my refill, then return to eating. There was a delicacy to the way she handled food, like spilling even a single drop would kill her on the spot.

"Eat," she suddenly commanded, not looking away from her bowl. "Hunger won't defeat itself."

I started, then quickly sat and followed instructions. It wasn't like I needed much prompting. But I kept watching her.

"What do you normally do?" I asked eventually.

She grunted. "I've done a lot of things, kid. Anyone that's been alive for as long as me will have."

"But I mean how do you have fun? You don't exactly have a TV out here."

"What good's a TV when you've got this?"

She reached out a pinky and prodded the ground. Specters appeared near us like the ones from the day before. Unlike the day before there were only two- one clad in blue union fatigues, the other in confederate grey. Both were holding muskets with bayonets fixed at the end. They charged each other screaming their lungs out before colliding, stabbing at the exact same time. The moment they touched the ground the illusions evaporated into steam.

I winced. "You just… watch people die? All day, every day?"

"Course," she said, chewing through a hunk of beef. "Seeing it live is best, but this will do. It's the highest form of beauty this world's got."

"Yea, I don't see it."

"Give it time and you will. The pure passion. The unbridled emotion that comes out in a battle for survival. Kill or be killed, the ultimate, original, game."

Her eyes unfocused, like she was looking hard at something really far away. A shiver ran through me.

"You don't…" I trailed off, suddenly not sure I wanted an answer to the question I was about to ask.

But she didn't let it go. "I don't what?"

"You don't go around murdering people, do you?"

Her eyes snapped up from her bowl, the red specks in them suddenly glowing like embers.

"Do not," she hissed, "confuse the beauty of death in battle for the ugliness of murder. A fight is a mutual understanding. A contract. Every good soldier knows that he can die, but he accepts that. It is no one-sided, despicable, murder."

The final word was spit so much venom that I half expected it to land on the pot between us and sizzle straight through. Unconsciously I shrunk away, my hand darting to the pocket that held my weapon.

But with a long exhale the fire drained out of her. She leaned her head to the side and said, "But no. Even in a war, I don't take the lives. The best part is the emotion running through the men, not the act itself. If I dealt the blows, I'd only be cutting that out."

I nodded, although it still made no sense to me. As long as my teacher wasn't some serial killer, I could deal with that. Preferably, though, with as few outbursts like that one as possible.

O-O-O-O-O

Every morning Andi had me up bright and early, repeating the painful method from the first day until, after the third time through, I got it in my head to be up and ready on my own. She'd lead me to the clearing between the creek and woods and set me to work doing lunges, watching critically the whole time. If there was one job that seemed more boring than mine, it was hers. At least I had aching muscles to keep me awake.

There were breaks, but they were carefully and distantly spaced. Andi seemed to have a knack for knowing exactly when I was about to collapse and calling a halt right then, pulling a bronze cup from the duffel bag and handing it over. It was just water and yet it felt like the world's best energy drink, one part espresso the other part Gatorade.

In the evening when the work was done, she cooked and then we ate. And then, when the food was gone, she told stories.

Sometimes it was battle tactics. Other times it was a particularly thrilling fight she'd seen, relayed in photographic detail. She was a great storyteller when she cared about the topic… so basically when the topic was a fight.

Once or twice it was a former student she talked about. Embarrassing answers they'd given or impressive acts they'd achieved. One evening, as we sat on a log near to her homebase watching the stars, I finally asked a question that had been bugging me for a while.

"You like teaching," I said, breaking the lull after a detailing of an Italian air bombardment had concluded.

Andi tilted her head as she stared at the stars. "And what makes you say that?"

"You talk about them. Your old students, I mean. And the way you describe them, you always sound more excited than usual."

"That so?" She snorted. "Well, look at the little detective go. But you're wrong."

I frowned. "About what?"

"They weren't my students. None of them but you."

"What? But then who were in those stories?"

"Failures," she said bitterly. "Wastes of time. The ones who failed one test or another. I've never had a true student. Not yet."

"I don't get it," I admitted. "If you enjoy it, wouldn't more be better?"

She drummed her fingers against the bark hard enough to spray splinters. "It's all about getting the right one. Anything else would be such a waste."

"Of what?"

She kept staring at the stars, like she was sorting through them for one particular thing.

"Of everything," she finally said. And then, without another word, stood up and strode away, gesturing me off toward my sleeping bag.

O-O-O-O-O

It was two days after our late-night talk that the first one appeared.

I was four hours deep into my practice when it happened, feeling like a lobster tossed in to boil. The sun was beaming down freely, and if the air got any heavier you could've scooped it up with a spoon.

Now, the heat had really gotten to my head, along with every other part of my body. I was suffering, and simply keeping up my lunges was taking all my focus. That's my excuse for not noticing a thing until it burst out of the forest, trampling aside enough trees for a cozy log cabin in the process.

It was a Laistrygonian giant, as given away by the sharpened yellow teeth in his open mouth. The most notable thing about him was the massive American flag he was wearing like a speedo, a sight so horrifyingly that I paid it more attention than the massive club preparing to crush me.

By the time my brain caught up there was nothing to be done. I was exhausted and stuck in the open. A sitting duck

Then a blur slotted between us, and a spear point sprouted from his oversized forehead. With a look of dumb confusion that probably mirrored my own pretty well, he crumbled into nothing.

"No points for reaction time." Andi looked me up and down, her weapon still raised. "I'll let you off this time, on account of your attention to training. Next time I expect better."

My mouth opened and closed a few times without words. Finally, I shook my head.

"That was a Laistrygonian."

"You know them, huh?" Andi flicked her spear, tossing stuck bits of dust onto the surrounding grass. "They're decent in a fight. Scary strong, scarier stupid."

"I've had experiences," I said. "But why was one here? Why now?"

"You're a demigod, aren't you? And a powerful one at that. Poseidon. Was only a matter of time before they started coming. Especially now."

I decided to set aside her knowing about my dad despite the fact that I'd never told her in favor of focusing on the last part.

"What do you mean 'especially now'? Is something happening?"

"You could say that." She turned to face me. "Out there, monsters are moving en masse. Somethings calling them, and they're answering."

"Like a group chat?" I tried to picture that. Hey guys, Hydra here. I found a whole group of half-bloods out in Kansas. Come over, and bring extra swords!

"There aren't too many things out there that could pull it off," Andi said, oblivious to my thoughts. "But they exist. Beings that hate the gods enough to get along with monsters, and powerful enough to make them listen."

I stared at her. "That sounds big."

She snorted. "Kid, you don't know the half of it. Things are heating up, and when they spill over believe me, it isn't going to be small."

Great, because I didn't have enough to worry about already. But honestly, what would it mean for me? In a few months' time I'd be tucked away in the Labyrinth once more, sheltered from the world. No matter how crazy things got, I wasn't sure they'd even reach me. After all, if not even death had been able to find Daedalus's hiding place, what chance did anything else have.

What about Annabeth? Luke? They certainly didn't have a hiding place like mine. With a frown, I realized I wasn't even sure they were still alive. I knew they'd made it to camp years ago, but death was a fact of life for those of us with immortal parents. You never knew anything for certain.

"What're you doing, giving me a mopey face like that. You should be ashamed; did I say you could slack off!"

For once, I was grateful for Andi's drill sergeant orders. I returned to practice and tried to let the screaming from my shoulders drown out the depressing thoughts. It didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped- for the rest of the day one key question buzzed around the back of my mind:

What, exactly, was coming?

O-O-O-O-O

The neat thing about routines is that even the harsh ones you get used to. For a full week I was ground the bone. Wake up, stab, repeat, stab, repeat, eat, sleep. I would never call it fun, but by the seventh morning, it had been hammered into my bones.

Which was why when Andi stopped me only an hour in, it took me a moment to even process it.

"Your movements are passable," she said, resting her chin in the crook of her hand, her head bobbing.

My eyes must've looked like golf balls. "I've got it?"

"Yep. Good enough, at least."

"No more repetitions?"

"Not of this."

I pumped my fist. "Yes! Go me!"

"Yes," Andi agreed. "Time to move on."

"So what's next?" I asked. "Maybe jumping attacks? Low stabs? Oh, maybe-"

"Surviving."

I stopped short. "When you say surviving…?"

"Oh, it's quite simple." Her smile sharpened into something sadistic. From the ground beside her she unzipped the duffle bag she'd been carrying since the first day. From inside she drew, far too easily, a full-sized bowling ball and a tennis ball. She held one in each hand and lifted them for me to see.

"This," she said, holding the tennis ball slightly higher, "you are going to stab out of the air. And this," she hefted the bowling ball just as naturally, "you are not going to let touch you. For your sake, I recommend succeeding."

"Is it too late to go back to lunges?" I asked.

"Definitely. On your toes now." With a smile somewhere between professional and sadistic, she threw.

I rolled to the right and only stabbed blindly for the tennis ball, more concerned with avoiding its partner. As a result the bowling ball thudded harmlessly into the ground behind me. The tennis ball bounced bast too; I hadn't even come within three feet of skewering it.

"You missed," Andi said. "Don't worry, you've got more chances."

She reached into the bag and drew out two more balls. Then she set them on the ground and reached back in. Pretty soon there were twin stacks, one neon and harmless, the other pitch black and hard enough to bust my skull open like a pinata.

"Now," she said, "round two starts."

In that moment I experienced something I never expected to, let alone just a few minutes after they'd said goodbye: I missed the lunges.

O-O-O-O-O

"What's Eris like?"

I asked the question in a lull between stories, late one night. I was battered and bruised, but it wouldn't stop me from getting out a question that had been bugging me.

"Eris, huh?" Unconsciously, at the name, Andi brought out a pocket knife and began to fiddle with it. "Well, most people know the whole wedding affair with Peleus and Thetis. Mom was the only goddess not privy to an invite, threw a hissy fit, threw a shiny fruit, started quite the war. For the last bit alone, she'll always have my appreciation. But if you're asking what she's like personally…"

"Most people think, on account of that story and the whole 'goddess of strife' title, that she's a real piece of work. Cold, violent, pitiless."

"Is she?"

Andi flicked the knife, cutting off the corner of a nail and sharpening it to a point. "Of course she is! They just don't have the first clue how bad it is. Whatever they're picturing, 'less you know her as well as I do, she'll be twice as bad."

"Wow," I said. "Good to see you guys are on such good terms."

"Hm? But we are." Andi looked away from her knifework but didn't stop. Her accuracy didn't decrease in the slightest. "I said it before- she gave me the Trojan War. If that wasn't enough to earn Mother's Day gifts from me and the others for the rest of time, nothing is."

That was shocking to hear. Not the bit about the war (I should've realized that for myself) but because it was the first time I'd heard her mention other Androktasiai.

"What about your siblings?" I asked. "How many of you are there?"

She shrugged. "Beats me."

"You really have no idea?"

"Kid," she said, "think about it for a second. Do I seem like the type for a family gathering?"

I tried to picture her at a picnic, grilling up burgers as a bunch of mini-mes ran around her ankles playing. I shook my head. Nope, definitely didn't feel right.

"My siblings are the exact same as me. Closest we got to a gathering was the last World War. Felt like I'd run across one of those bastards every other day. Now? You've seen how I live."

I thought about that. Andi spent most of her time wandering. She'd poke around battlefields – usually Antietam, but sometimes others – and watch the action on repeat, lost in her own little world. In a way she was like a shut-in, totally immersed in her shows, just the ones she watched actually happened. If her siblings were all like her it wasn't unbelievable that they really wouldn't have kept any track of each other.

"And what about your dad?"

I started. "What about him?"

"The look in your eyes when he's mentioned," Andi said. "I've seen men go to war with less venom. I figure that's got something to do, too, with how you haven't used your powers once."

That was true, but it wasn't exactly like it was my choice. "I can't," I explained. "It's been like this for years. I try, but nothing happens."

"Sounds like an excuse." Andi flicked the blade on her pocket knife closed and turned it over in her hand. "No good will come from turning down power. Coming by it is hard enough already."

"That's just it," I said. "I'm not turning it down. It just won't work no matter what I try."

She watched me for a moment. "You really believe that."

"Well duh-"

Anymore conversation was put on pause by crunching from the bushes. We shot up, Anthea forming while Andi pulled her own spear from the earth. Together we faced down the source of the noise, a quivering thicket of bushes. The undergrowth burst open and revealed a figure who…

Held his hands over his head and yelled "Please don't hurt me!"

Befuddled, I lowered my weapon. I glanced up and down to see if I was missing something. But no, from the woods, in the dark, a perfectly ordinary looking teenager had appeared.

He had shiny red hair that together with his green hoodie made him look like a reverse strawberry. His jeans looked to be in good condition, and even the holes over the knees seemed like they may've been for style. When he slowly pulled down his hands his blue eyes looked on the verge of tears.

"Are you guys camping out here?" he asked, pubescent vocal cords cracking midway through. I started to say yes but Andi cut me off.

"What's it to you?" she said.

"Huh?" he said. "I didn't mean anything bad by it. I just got sort of lost, and then it got dark, and I'm not really sure what to do now."

"Well you can figure that out somewhere else." Andi squared her shoulders. "Leave."

"I really don't mean any trouble," said the boy. He showed off his empty palms and smiled tentatively, like a kid explaining to his teacher why he didn't do the homework. "Really, if it's not too much trouble, could I at least get a drink? I promise to leave you alone after that."

At first I thought Andi was going to refuse. For long enough for it to get (even more) awkward, she didn't say a thing. But eventually she sighed.

"I'll get it for you," she said, and jabbed a finger in his direction. "You are not to move a step from there. Do you understand."

The boy bowed his head in thanks, but kept it just high enough for him to keep his eyes on Andi. "That's real kind of you."

No one said anything as Andi snatched a cup from the table and took it to the watercooler. As she waited for the spigot to fill the metallic cup, I looked back at the mysterious teen. What I didn't expect was for him to be staring a hole in my head, that same smile suddenly shining ominously in the low light.

"You're around my age," he said when we made eye contact. "What are you doing out here?"

"Learning," I said.

He cocked his head. "Oh. That's cool, I guess. But I prefer doing."

"Here," Andi stepped up to him, breaking my line of sight and holding out the filled cup. "And stop bothering my student."

"We were just having a chat," he said, reaching for the drink.

What happened next I couldn't see with Andi in the way. All I could tell was that the cup was suddenly the ground, its water dribbling onto the earth, and that Andi was frozen with her spear raised, just the first bit of the way through a deadly attack.

"How clumsy of me!" The boy stepped away and came back into my line of sight, a hand clamped over his mouth. "I can't believe I dropped it, and after you were so kind as to fill it for me…"

At the pace of a sloth Andi dropped her arms and returned to standing loosely. "Don't worry about it," she said. "The fault was with me."

The boy shook his head. "Still, though, I'm thoroughly ashamed. Really, I've troubled you enough. Goodbye, and good luck!"

He gave a dramatic wave and scampered away as suddenly as he'd arrived, plunging straight back into the woods. I stared after him, wondering what the hell had just happened. Finally, Andi sighed and picked up the cup, lumbering back to the table to put it away.

"That did just happen, right?" I asked.

"Of course it did." Andi sniffed. "No student of mine will be going crazy any time soon. Especially not off the battlefield."

She came back to the fire and settled down, but I noticed she seemed preoccupied. She hadn't put her spear away for one thing, and she always did that once she was done with it.

"What the heck happened back there?" I asked. "You gave him a drink, and then he dropped the drink, and then it was like you were trying to kill him…"

Andi sighed. "Something was off with him."

I nodded. "I thought he might be a monster, or even a demigod or something."

"So did I." Andi held the cup she'd given him above her head, looking up at the bottom of it. "That's why I gave him one of these. These aren't normal, you know. They were a gift, from an old friend."

I looked at the dinnerware with newfound interest. "I thought they were just from Kohl's or something."

"Kid," Andi said, staring at me blankly, "did you think the rate you've been healing was normal? You had two broken ribs after the first day and trained straight through the next."

I shrugged. "I knew something was doing it. I just thought it was in the food itself, or some other boost you were giving me."

She laughed. "Sorry to disappoint, but everything I've got is about dealing damage, not the opposite. A few meals from these guys," she poked the cup with her finger and prodded the bowl beside her with her elbow, "and you'll be back to your peak like magic. It is magic, in fact. Worked into celestial bronze by an old acquaintance that's quite the little enchanter."

"If that's celestial bronze…" I said.

Andi nodded. "At least you're quick to catch on. Yes, it would take a monster, demigod, or god to touch this thing. The second he held onto it I was going to run him through, but…"

"But it went straight through his hands," I said. "He was mortal."

Andi rolled her shoulders and tilted up her head. "Apparently," she said. "Apparently he was."

That should've been the end of that. You couldn't get any better proof that someone was a mortal, and mortals were no threat. Then I thought of something.

"You did something to the camp, didn't you? That's why the tourists and guides never notice it."

Andi nodded. "That's right. It's covered by the mist."

"In that case," I said, looking up at her, "how did that kid find us?"

She blinked. "That is a damn good question."

Judging from the silence that fell, it wasn't one either of us could answer. Twenty minutes later when I tucked in to sleep Andi was still lingering up, casting looks at the forest like she expected it to come alive.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

A Polar Bear Drops By for a Chat

About two weeks after the first Laistrygonian came for a visit the monster appearances got more common. And I don't mean just a little. Before it had stayed pretty consistent at about one every three days, and never anything too crazy. A few dracaena, or a runty hellhound or two. But after the shift, nearly overnight, they just wouldn't stop coming.

Five groups a day, sometimes showing up just minutes apart, for a whole week. The monsters themselves weren't any more dangerous than the earlier ones, but there was no end to them. As their numbers climbed Andi started tossing a few bones my way, letting me pick off a few dracaena or score a hit on a distracted hellhound's leg.

That day it had been all dracaena, three groups before lunchtime. We'd just finished dealing with the latest bunch, the dust from them laying in piles around the area we used for training. Off to one side the array of tennis and bowling balls lay scattered around Andi's trusty duffle bag, their use temporarily cut short.

"This is getting on my nerves," Andi growled.

"They just keep coming," I agreed.

She let her spear slide back into the earth before using the freed hand to punch a nearby tree. The bark shattered as if a mace had struck it. "How am I supposed to train you when we get interrupted as soon as we start up? This is maddening."

I didn't have anything to offer. In truth I was almost as annoyed. I had no love for ducking and weaving through heavy blunt objects, but a few times I'd actually nicked the tennis ball, and I couldn't fight the feeling that I was close to spearing it outright.

"What can we do about it?" I asked.

Andi set her mouth in a line. "Nothing, for now. But if I catch whoever's sending them here…"

"Ooh, that doesn't sound good."

We whipped around. Lumbering toward us were two absolutely massive Laistrygonians, the biggest ones I'd ever seen. Not only that, they were well equipped. Each was wearing a clumsy but solid looking breastplate made of smelted car hoods and had a sword as tall as a door sheathed at their sides.

Between the giants strolled the speaker, an African American girl that looked a few years older than me. Her hair was curly and messy, but in a carefully designed way. She walked with an awkward sort of limp, like one leg was slightly longer than the other, but it was impossible to see why beneath her leather pants. Her grey windbreaker was unzipped to show off a black t-shirt with a My Little Pony design on it, except the pink horse had exes over the eyes and twin red dots on its neck. I wondered if it was custom-made.

"I was wondering where all the useful bugs had been disappearing to around here," she said, stopping a distance away with her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. "Turns out some slightly bigger bugs were eating them all up."

Andi stepped forward, subtly putting herself between me and the visitors.

"Not a lot of people stroll right up to me talking like that," Andi said. Her face split into a grin. "I missed it. Usually, a fight comes after."

"Eager, hm?" The girl looked Andi up and down. "Maybe you should be putting some of that enthusiasm into choosing outfits. You look hideous, and leather armor was so five centuries ago. But I'm not after a fight. Really."

"You sure aren't talking like it," Andi said.

The girl shrugged. "I'm just giving advice, no need to get testy. Besides, I'm not the one whose been damaging property." She swept her head toward the dust piles around us. "Those things grow back, but it takes too long. The decent thing for you to do would've been to die so they could do their jobs."

"That doesn't really work for us," I said.

The girl looked at me, and for a second her brown eyes flared red. A few strands of her hair started to smoke.

"A demigod," she purred, dragging the last syllable. "Your kind are my favorite. I especially love the delectable screams you give in your death throes. They're, like, so cute."

"Well, that's a new one." I lifted Anthea higher, leveling the tip toward her chest. "If you really want to try, I'm right here."

"Gosh," she said, "how many times do I have to tell you two? I'm not here to fight. This is just scouting work and, now that I've found you, a way to deliver a message."

"A message, huh?" Andi cocked her head. "Let's hear it then."

The girl brought a fist to her mouth and cleared her throat. "Here goes. As of, like, right now, you aren't going to kill any monsters, got it? They're off-limits. All of them. Failure to comply with these instructions will qualify as disobedience and earn immediate termination."

Andi snorted. "So you're telling us to lay down and die."

"Oh, geez," The girl rolled her eyes. "Now when did I say that? All I told you to do was not fight back. Where's the dying in that?"

"Probably right around the part where we're supposed to watch the monsters kill us," I muttered. Andi shot me a look that said let me do the talking.

"That isn't going to work for us," Andi said.

She stomped and her spear shot from the ground like a whale spout. She snagged it perfectly, and I blinked. That was a new move.

"I really tried to play this nice," said the girl. "But wow, people just have no manners these days."

She raised her hands and flexed them. At the end of every finger wicked nails glinted like a dagger. Her grin stretched, revealing canines that came to even finer points than her daggerlike nails. From either side her giant guards drew their weapons. The swords weren't particularly sharp but that didn't make me feel much safer. One hit would still squash me as flat as a pancake.

"You do know what I am, don't you?" Andi asked. Despite the impending fight – or likely because of it – her spirits seemed high. "I'm an Androktasiai, incarnation of battlefield slaughter. I am warfare. Attack me to die."

Of all the reactions I expected to that, a pout wasn't at the top of the list.

"I wish you'd just let me dine on- I mean fight your little student instead. Fighting women is no fun at all." Andi took a step forward, the Laistrygonian's tensed, and the girl sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll deal with you quickly. Then I can savor that cute guy behind you."

She sent me a wink that made my toes curl, and the tension snapped.

The Laistrygonians came first, apparently not wanting to let Andi anywhere near their boss. They weren't particularly fast, especially with the armor they were wearing, but that still left them about as scary as charging elephants. The girl followed sedately behind them, apparently content to let her vanguard run its course.

"The one on the right is yours," Andi said to me. "There's no time for handholding. If you die you're a failure, so don't."

It wasn't the most ringing endorsement I'd ever received, but I didn't need much motivation in the first place. Avoiding a massive sword before it could reduce me to paste already had a lot naturally built-in.

Both of the giants were aiming for Andi first, but she took off like a bull and got in close to one, forcing him away. Taking the opening, I rushed his partner.

For all the intimidation factor the armor gave, it came with a cost. As the Laistrygonian tried to reorient and swipe at me the weight slowed him down, making the strike easy to avoid. I got in close and tried to spear his barefoot, but he saw it coming and pulled away.

I tried to keep close to him to prevent him from getting a second swing in, but he lashed out with a knee that sent me rolling away. When I popped back to my feet his arm was already behind his head, preparing to swing his sword like a sledgehammer. I took a half step away, then changed my mind and charged straight for him.

His strike hit the ground behind me with enough force to knock me off balance, but I managed to keep my footing. While he was still bent over from the attack I stabbed straight at his chest. My spear penetrated the outer layer of his breastplate but stopped shy of his chest. Cursing, I pulled it free and ducked through his legs as he dragged his sword along the ground, sweeping through where I'd just stood.

I came out the other side with a free shot and the unprotected backs of his legs and grinned. Checkmate.

"Watch out kid!"

Andi's warning came just in time for me to duck down. A clawed hand slashed above me a moment later.

"Spoilsport," complained the African American girl, standing behind me with her claws extended. "Just accept it. Come on, don't you… want a piece of me?"

The way she said the last bit, warm and inviting and not at all like we were in the middle of a fight, made me want to put away my weapon and follow her around like a duckling. My hands started to sink.

"That's it," she coaxed. I could tell she'd tussled with Andi because there was a spear hole in her jacket, but somehow her face still looked immaculate and inviting. "Just like that. Accept it."

In the time I'd spent with Andi watching her conjured illusions I'd seen my share of cannonballs. Because of that, I can say this with full confidence: bowling balls chucked at fifty miles per hour look almost identical.

The whistling sound must've given the girl some warning, and her reactions were no joke because she managed to twist mostly out of the way. The projectile still clipped her shoulder on the way through, and the cracking noise it gave off sounded almost as bad as the awkward angle of her arm looked.

"Youuuuuuu!" She wailed. All at once her hair spontaneously combusted, rising into the air like a personal fireball on her head. "I'll kill you. Drink the marrow in your bones. Pop your eyeballs like grapes. Send-"

Further threats were cut off by a burst of cold. All over the clearing the shadows seemed to stretch, growing both longer and darker. A weight settled on my spine, like someone had poured a bowl of freezing Jell-O down my shirt and trapped it there. If the looks on the others' faces were any sign, they were all experiencing the exact same sensation.

Then I spotted the strangest thing yet, and I say that as someone staring down a girl that was literally on fire. On the crest of a hill, less than fifty feet away, a polar bear had appeared. It was huge, taller than me while on its four paws, its spotless coat looked fresh from Antarctica, and it was… shaking its head in disappointment?

"I knew this would happen," It boomed in a voice that sounded at once human and more. "It was so easily quantifiable from the personality traits of the involved parties."

"Sir?" The girl's flaming hair went out like it had been dunked in ice water. "Wh- what are you doing here? This is supposed to be my region."

"Indeed it is, Kelli," said the bear. "But as you can see, here I am. And a good thing that is too, seeing as you've gone and mucked up your task. Of course, I was aware that such events would come to pass, and here I am to offset their course."

"No!" shouted Kelli. "I mean, sir, what have I done wrong? I'm just following orders."

The bear harrumphed. "I would be offended by such an answer, were I not already prepared for it. Repeat your orders to me. Precisely."

"In front of them?" Kelli pointed at me and Andi. "Isn't that, like, such an information breach?"

The bear glanced briefly at Andi, then focused its blue-white eyes on me. A chill swept through my body intense enough to bring out goosebumps on my normal arm. I got the sudden feeling that if he decided it I would be an ice block before I knew what was happening.

"They're no issue," the bear finally said, its eyes mercifully moving back to Kelli. After experiencing its attention for myself I could fully understand why her hair had been extinguished. "One of them will have no opportunity to pass it on, and the other will have no desire to. Speak."

Before I could make sense of those ominous words, Kelli cleared her throat and started.

"I'm to gather and organize the recruits from the central East Coast," she said. "If anyone interferes with the process, I'm to give them a warning."

"Just a warning?" the bear asked. "I seem to recall something else."

Kelli stamped her foot. "What, you expect me to ask them to join us? Come on, they aren't even monsters. They won't say yes."

"Ah," said the bear, "but if one did not ask every time they knew the result, I would never find reason to speak at all. Some procedures must always be attended to." He paused and stood up on his hind legs, balancing like a circus animal. "Androktasiai," he spread his front legs wide in the air, "we seek none other than the destruction of Olympus and the reversion of the world to its natural state. In the process, undoubtedly, war will be required on a scale this peaceful world has become unaccustomed to. Will you join us, aim your weapon at the gods, and partake of this bloodshed?"

Andi spat on the ground. "The neat thing about wars," she said, "is that whichever side you choose, you get to fight. No deal."

"And what if I told you that your mother will fight with us?"

"She told you that?" Andi asked.

"Not yet, but the offer has been made. And she will accept, in time. Her resentment at being slighted by the Olympians and cast to the fringes will not permit anything else."

"Well, that decides it." Andi grinned. "I always wanted to see what would happen if I took a crack at her."

"I see."

The bear didn't sound very upset by her refusal. In fact he sounded satisfied, like he'd just gotten a question right on a game show. His focus switched to me, and I tensed up.

"You would like, how did she phrase it, 'a crack' at your father as well, wouldn't you? Yes, it's written all over your history. He is guaranteed to fight against us. I offer you the chance to take up arms against him, to avenge all the slights Olympus has dealt you, even to tear them down in the name of your mother."

It was funny- I was still just as cold, but that didn't stop the heat rising in my chest.

"Why don't you go back to the circus?" I snapped. "I'm sure you could earn a lot of peanuts with the whole arrogant speech routine. Maybe they'd even give you a unicycle to ride while you do it."

He chuckled. "Mentioning your mother was a poor decision, wasn't it. I knew your reaction would be negative, but I went and stated it anyway… I suppose there is a reason knowledge is my domain, not persuasion."

"So can we kill them now?" Kelli asked. She was biting her lip, and her good hand was clutching at her ruined shoulder. "They said they won't join us so just let me get rid of them."

"Goodness," said the bear, "we've no reason to bother. There are uses for them down the line. What we will do – oh, and you'll quite hate this answer, by the way – is retreat."

"Sir-"

"No arguing." His jovial tone dropped, and with it the temperature lost thirty degrees. "You will come with me now, while I am still being charitable in spite of making this inane trip."

For a moment I thought Kelli was going to argue. Then she dropped her head and started walking. As she passed me, she muttered, "Next time we meet-"

"You'll kill me, right?" I stared her down. "You're welcome to try."

She smirked. "No, I'll kill her," she jabbed a thumb at Andi, "and with you… I'll take my time."

She trudged up the hill toward the bear, her giant guards following dumbly behind. I tried to wipe the way she'd said it from my mind without success.

"Perseus Jackson," the bear said once his subordinates had reached him, "it was interesting to meet you. If you are ever up north, pay me a visit. We will be on better terms by then- I have a feeling about it."

He shot me a wink, like it was a little in-joke between the two of us. All over the forest branches began to sway, then vibrate, then shake, sending sprays of leaves to the ground. A blast of frigid air washed over the area with enough force to make me shield my eyes. When I lowered my arms, the group was gone.

Andi was watching the place they'd been when I approached her. As I got close, I noticed her fingers shaking.

"Are you scared of him?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around the idea of her being scared of anyone.

She blinked a few times, like she was coming out of a trance. "Scared?" she said. "I want to fight him."

"Do you think you would win?"

She laughed. "Not a chance. But that just makes it more fun."

"So you know who that was?"

"I do," she said. "At least I think I do. That wasn't him in the flesh, just an avatar. The gods would never have let him this close to Olympus otherwise."

A chill went down my spine, but this time it had nothing to do with the temperature. "So you're saying he's that strong?"

"Of course he is." Andi stooped and scooped up a bowling ball, carefully brushing off the dirt. "All about knowledge, takes the form of a bear, and commands the cold. The ruler of the North- the old one. The Titan Coeus."

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Bad News Over Oatmeal

You can imagine what a shock it came as to hear that a being supposed to be buried in the darkest corner of Tartarus had stopped by for a chat. "The bear was that important?"

Andi picked up a tennis ball to match the bowling ball already in her other hand. She gestured for me to raise my spear and I did as instructed. I'd gotten to know her too well to hesitate.

"That was just an avatar," she said, throwing the balls.

I dodged and stabbed, only coming up with air. "So he's not actually a bear. That's kind of disappointing."

"You've got strange taste kid." Andi shook her head and grabbed two new balls. "What's important isn't his looks. We'd wondered who was gathering monsters. Now we know."

"Coeus?" I asked. She threw again, and this time I managed to take a bit of neon fuzz off the tennis ball's outer edge.

"Not alone. It's too much for him. He's certainly part of it, but something bigger is out there."

"Bigger than a titan?" Daedalus had crammed so many myths into my skull over the last few years that quite a few had stuck, even with my abysmal study habits. "Then that means…"

Andi nodded and threw. "There's only one being Coeus would work with. The ruler of the titans. Don't say his name, just in case."

I popped up from a roll with a wince. That bowling ball had been thrown quicker than normal and come a bit too close for comfort. "Hey, I wasn't going to. Even I know some things."

"Indeed," Andi muttered absently. Her eyes took on the faraway look they sometimes did when she was telling stories. She threw another set and my eyes widened. I had no time for thoughts of the tennis ball as the bowling ball flew past. It struck the ground behind me so fast it embedded in the soil, forming a miniature crater.

"Are you trying kill me?" I asked, pulling myself up.

Andi didn't answer. Her eyes were still unfocused, and she seemed to be muttering under her breath. Her arm pulled back, a bowling ball held like an MLB player prepping to launch one. A moment later it blurred toward me, too quick to dodge.

Clang! My metal arm quivered, covering my chest just in time. The bowling ball fell to the ground, dented to the point of cracking. I stared at my teacher with my mouth hanging open. "Are you crazy?"

The noise from the impact seemed to have brought her back down to earth. Slowly, she scanned the surroundings. Then she reached up and slapped her own face. I could feel the reverberations in the air.

"Sorry kid," she muttered. "I got distracted."

"Well, a little warning next time. Maybe before you try to bash my chest cavity in." I sighed. "What's bothering you?"

"Don't worry about it. It isn't important."

"It nearly got me killed," I pointed out. "I think I've got a right to hear it at that point."

She looked at me, and I mean really looked. It was like she was taking in everything from the number of hairs on my arm to the way I was standing. What she found she didn't like. A long, soft grunt echoed from her mouth, then her foot pounded the ground like a piledriver.

"You're lacking," she declared. "That has got to change."

I waved my spear. "That's why I'm training. Improving's the whole point."

"Not just in that. There is a storm coming, and no one will be able to escape from it. No one. If you want to have any chance at surviving it, you'll need every advantage you can get."

"I know," I said slowly. "Like using a spear."

Andi scowled. "You don't know. I can see that much clearly. So right now, we're going to start a new lesson."

She began to stalk forward, leaving behind the scattered bowling and tennis balls.

"Are we done with the dodging drill?" I asked.

"It's on pause," she told me.

She didn't pull her spear out. Instead she came forward like a wrestler, her arms pumping at her sides. Caught off-guard, I went for a stab. She batted my spear away with the back of her hand, striking the shaft just below the blade. My weapon jerked off course and her palm struck my chest.

I collapsed in a heap, my weapon skidding away. Andi started a follow-up the moment I was sent down, and I had only a moment to return to my feet.

Weaponless now, I focused on dodging. I ducked another palm strike. An elbow was thrown, and I jumped backwards out of range. Andi kept coming, layering on strike after strike and forcing me to give ground.

"So, about that whole warning me before you try to kill me thing we just talked about…"

Andi didn't answer, continuing forward with flying limbs.

"Fine. Be that way."

She sent a jab and this time I met it halfway with a punch of my own. The force of the strike reverberated through my metal arm and sent me spinning away. When I got up and shook the cobwebs from my head, Andi was massaging her knuckles, looking at the impact spot in appreciation.

"That thing is useful," she remarked. "Use it more."

"I'd love to." I made a show of clenching the fingers. "Why don't you just stay still a minute and I'll really show you what it can do."

Andi dipped her head. "You wish kid."

She came again, her movements slightly faster than before. I was giving ground quickly now, being forced back toward the creek. A swing clipped my shoulder and made me wince. I darted in closer and landed a kick to the shins, reveling in the grunt of pain it earned.

The satisfaction didn't last long. She swung an uppercut and I was too close to have any chance at dodging. I got my metal arm in the way to take the worst of it but was upended again all the same.

This time I landed square in the creek, my impact spraying muddy water over the banks. I popped up, wincing at my sopping clothes and accumulated mud. The water had broken my landing significantly. Now if only I could've stayed dry.

Then, somehow, I was dry. I'm not sure how to explain it except that it was like I'd never been soaked in the first place. The water had evaporated completely, leaving me free to carry on fighting without fear of slipping or sliding.

I had no time to ponder the lucky break as Andi descended like a hawk and splashed down in front of me. Even the water she sprayed up disappeared when it hit me. Taking advantage of a sudden second wind coming from the water around my ankles, I met Andi's charge and returned to trading blows.

"This is your element!" Andi shouted. "Use it to your advantage!"

"I told you!" I said, blocking a punch and slipping past a knee strike. "I can't! My dad won't let me!"

"Idiot! This doesn't have a thing to do with your father!"

She caught hold of my shirt collar and hoisted me into the air before slamming me onto my back. Mud and water exploded up around us.

"It's that mindset that's blocking you!" she shouted, pinning me to the ground with meaty arms covering my chest. "You're so caught up on your father that you can't even see yourself. This isn't power that is lent. You may have gotten it from him, but it is yours, from the day you were born until the day you die. Use it!"

"I told you!" I squirmed uselessly, trying to fight my way free. "It's no use. It won't come."

"Then make it come." Andi leaned in, wild eyes staring into mine. "It will listen to you. It has to."

I shut my eyes tight and took a breath. Focus. I searched my gut, rooting around for the proper sensation. I could picture it in my mind. The creek coming alive, snatching Andi up and flinging her. Come on. Come on! Something started to shift, the telltale sensation starting up…

Then my mom's face flashed through my head. The New York alleyway coming alive under my control, too late to make a difference. I even imagined my father watching passively somewhere far away, although I couldn't picture that bit properly. I'd never even seen his face after all.

All at once the feeling vanished. My eyes cracked open just in time to see a stream no larger than a water fountain's spout spike up and spray Andi's face. That was it. No massive fists. No flying teachers.

Andi pulled off of me and shook her head, resting her face in her hand. "Pathetic. You're doomed."

I sat up. "I'm doomed? Is my spear that useless or something? Just because I don't have this-"

"The spear isn't useless," she said. "But it is when the wielder is. And you are. Useless, useless, useless."

She started to walk away, and I followed.

"Look, I don't know why you're so upset about this-"

"I am upset," Andi said, "because it is clear you are just going to die. I give you a year at the most. Maybe you'll live to see the start of the fighting, but no chance you make it to the end of it, and then my legacy will be-"

She stopped abruptly, her face pinching. For a task she stomped up to the bowling balls and began snatching them up, gathering them with jerky grabs.

"So that's it." I picked up Anthea and roughly brushed the dirt off its shaft. "You're all upset because you think I won't make you look good. If you're that concerned with the war, why don't you focus on fighting yourself?

"You think I don't want to?" When Andi picked up the next bowling ball her fingers left indents on its surface. "If it were that easy, do you think I would be complaining at all?"

"Good to see you believe in yourself so much. It's really inspiring."

Andi paused to drill her eyes into my own. After a moment she snorted and looked away.

"That's right," she said, half to herself. "If my abilities hold up, I guess I will get the chance. But I refuse to let it be easy."

Let what be easy? I thought. Instead of letting me voice the question Andi threw a bowling ball and a tennis ball, apparently deciding that the time for training had returned. They came fast. Before I had even finished scrambling out of the way another pair was on its way.

"A month!" Andi declared, already readying a third set. "A whole month of this, more intense than anything before it. I will make you into something worth a damn. Even if it kills me."

She tilted her head back, guffawing. She threw again, and again it came faster than the one before it. As I dove out of the way I wondered if I would make it to the end of the week, let alone the month.

O-O-O-O-O

It turns out that with magic dinnerware on hand, you can break a surprising number of bones without lasting issues. In the three days after the Coeus and Kelli's visit I fractured my right arm and three toes at the merciless hands of Andi's projectiles. The toes only took an hour each to heal. The arm took nearly half a day.

A week on and the broken bone count was up to seven. After another it was up again, but only to nine. I was improving. My reactions were getting quicker, my mistakes becoming less frequent. It was no longer a question of whether I could hit the tennis ball, now it was how many times I could do it in a day.

The training methods began to diversify. Sometimes Andi would wield a tree branch like a sword and walk me through the proper way of defending against specific attacks. Other times I learned how to deal with a barehanded opponent. There were even lessons on theory mixed in, everything from army tactics to how to coordinate a group of fighters. The only thing we never touched on again was controlling water. For better or for worse, Andi seemed to have joined me in giving up hope on that.

By the time Andi's due date rolled around, a month after Coeus's visit and six-and-a-half weeks since I had first arrived, I could feel the progress. Not only had my control over my spear gone from laughable to passable by Andi's measure, but my body had been whipped into physical shape beyond anything I'd experienced before. Even my mind hadn't been spared from work, our tactic talks and Andi's tales of past battles building a familiarity with strategy- not that I paid it all that much attention. Charge in and improvise was still my go-to, and I didn't see that ever changing. It was nice to have more concrete plans stored away in my back pocket, though.

And suddenly we'd reached the last day of the month. I dragged myself from my sleeping bag and stretched. Fall was arriving, and that day a cloudy sky had brought with it a brisk wind.

Even though it was morning Andi had a fire going, the first sign that our routine was broken. She didn't look the least bit chilly in her trademark battle-ready outfit, just like she had never looked hot on any of the boiling afternoons. She was prodding something in a pot above the fire. When I settled down across from her, I recognized oatmeal.

"No morning session today?" I asked. "I thought we had a day left."

"Today is for rest." She stirred the oatmeal with her large spoon, then scooped two servings into bowls. "I need you in peak condition tomorrow. Mentally and physically. That means a day off for preparation."

It felt like a weight had been stripped off my shoulders. I took one of the bowls. It was the first time since arriving that I hadn't been driven into some dangerous drill or another. Peeling the foot off the gas was a nice feeling, even if it was only temporary.

"The final test…" I mused. "Any tips?"

She didn't look up. "Pass. And whatever you do, do not hesitate."

"Don't you think you can tell me about it already?"

I'd asked once or twice, curious what exactly was waiting for me at the end of all the training. It was no use; Andi was tightlipped, refusing to give so much as a hint. The simple advice she'd just given was the most I'd gotten out of her yet.

"It will be difficult. Extremely so."

"I would be sad if it wasn't after how hard I've prepped."

"You can't pass."

It was said softly, barely more than a whisper. I stared at Andi, my mouth falling open.

"Really?" I asked. "I thought I was doing well."

"The effort has been there," she admitted. "But effort alone is not good enough. Power goes to those who work hard, but usually too little of it." She picked her eyes up from her oatmeal and looked at me… not sadly, but sort of forlorn. "I do hope that I am wrong."

Frankly, teachers doubting me seemed to be a new trend, and suffice to say I wasn't over the moon about it. My knuckles went white as they gripped the handle of my spoon. What the hell, I was already going to prove one wrong, why couldn't I do two?

"I'll pull it off," I said. "I'll knock this test out of the park. After it's done, you'll see."

"No, kid, I won't. Or rather I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because that is impossible."

She stood abruptly, bumping her bowl's edge as she did so. It tipped over. Andi strode to a nearby tree and leaned against it.

"For the final test your opponent is me," she said. "One on one, no holding back. All the way."

It felt like a stone had been rammed into my throat. "When you say all the way…"

"To the death. Until breathing stops. A ticket for one, straight to the underworld."

I shot to my feet. "That's crazy! You're immortal, aren't you? And… and even still…"

"Immortality comes in different shades." Andi shrugged. "I don't age, and I get some nifty perks. But I'm a spirit, not a god. If someone runs me through that's it."

"Exactly! So we shouldn't do this!"

Andi tilted her head, shaking it lightly. "You remember, don't you? How I said I didn't know whether my siblings were still around?"

I frowned. "I do. But what does that-"

"I wasn't lying. But that wasn't all of it. A few hundred years ago there were over a dozen of us, and just because we can die doesn't mean we go down easy. Embodiments of battle are pretty hard to beat at their own game. That's why almost all of us go out the same way- against worthy opponents, ones we've handpicked ourselves."

"But why!" I ran my hands through my hair, frustration running wild. For the first time Andi looked me dead in the eyes.

"Death in combat is beautiful to us. From the first moment we existed, it always has been. We watch it. We follow it. But really, deep down, we want to experience it ourselves. It's what we were born for, I suppose. I don't think anyone else can understand us, but we understand each other. I think the others have all found it already. Their final fate. It's been too long since I saw them for anything else. Now… Now I hope it's my turn."

In a way, it made a twisted sort of sense. That was the kicker. "The first test is a fight, to see if they stand a chance against you. Then you train them, so that when you fight again at the end the student wins. It was all designed."

Andi nodded, smiling. "I always said you catch on quick. It's a system, and it's worked for us all these years." Her smile faded as soon as it had come. "But it wasn't supposed to be this quick. We were supposed to have longer, to make sure you could win."

"So why not delay it?" It felt strange, trying to return to the hellish training. But if my choices were between that and fighting to the death with my teacher, it wasn't a hard decision.

But Andi shook her head.

"We're already pushing it," she explained. "Olympus is 200 miles away. It's only a matter of time before they discover us and try to end you. And now that the Titans are moving too… it's simply too risky to keep you here any longer. It has to be now, or it may well be never."

"But if you don't think I have a chance now," I pointed out, "then isn't that a risk we should take?"

"It's why I pushed you toward your powers from your father," she admitted. "I thought you would need them if you wanted to win. But that was a dead-end, so I moved to pushing you in every other aspect. You handled that well, but it won't be enough."

She reached a hand to the base of her neck and cracked her joints. With the popping noise, it was as if a switch had been flipped. She stood up straight, staring imperiously down at me.

"You have wasted my time," she declared, her tone icy. "After all I've invested in you, you remain this pathetic. It is insulting. To save us both time tomorrow, I recommend quietly laying down your weapon and accepting your death. Until then, make peace with your fate."

She stomped from the clearing, her hands balled into fists. The grey clouds must have been following our conversation, because they chose that exact moment to dump a shower down. Maybe the air spirits were enjoying our little drama. If that were true then at least someone was.

I didn't feel like moving under the aluminum covering, so I tilted my head toward the rain and leaned back, feeling the impacts of the drops on my face. It was amazing how quickly a day's tone could change.

What the hell was I going to do?

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Strangers Ask for My Autograph

The weather on the day of the final test was annoyingly pleasant. I wished it would've been raining even a little, just to match my mood, but no luck. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

Aelia twirled around my fingers while I walked slowly. It was a habit that helped me think, and I needed any help I could get with that right about now. All I had seen of Andi since the day before was a cold breakfast and a note telling me to report to where we trained. I needed to find a way out, but nothing would come to me, no matter how quickly I played Aelia between my fingers or scrunched my nose in thought.

I hopped across the creek the same way I had for the last month, but this time my legs felt like lead. Andi wasn't the type to change her mind at the best of times. With something she was this serious about I had better odds at strolling into Manhattan without getting zapped to ash.

But did I have it in me to kill her? Was I even good enough to find out?

When I arrived she was there. Her spear was propped against her shoulder. Her face was totally blank, and maybe even a little bit tired. But as soon as she saw me a sneer came out.

"Well?" she prompted, wrapping a hand around her spear. "Are you going to take my advice and give up?"

I stopped, double-checking that my feet were positioned right. Then I spun Aelia around and clicked it twice. Anthea took shape, the familiar weight helping to settle my nerves.

"I guess not. Don't say I didn't warn you. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Probably not," I admitted. "Mostly because this is stupid." I looked at her, studying the appearance I'd grown to take for granted- her eccentric outfit, violent eyes, and unyielding posture. I saw her throwing bowling balls at me. I saw a story being told over a burning fire. I even saw her pinning me against the creek and missed that too; at least then she hadn't actually been out to kill me. In that moment I made my decision. "That's why I'm not going to kill you."

"No!" Andi shouted, and I blinked at what sounded like fear in her voice. But when she carried on her voice was frosty once more. "And here I thought you weren't giving up."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm going to beat you, and I'm going to do it so completely that I won't even have to kill you."

"Those are fighting words."

I grinned. "That is what we're doing, isn't it?"

"Damn straight it is."

No more words. Andi shot toward me. But compared to my memory of our first fight, it felt like nothing. She stabbed and I parried. She kicked out and I ducked aside. She brought her spear down like a hammer and I turned sideways, letting it pass harmlessly into the ground. She leapt backwards and started to circle me, watching warily.

"You've improved," she growled.

"That's your fault," I told her.

"I guess so. Too bad it's not enough."

She pounced again and this time I met her halfway, working like a maniac to dodge and defend through the onslaught. Then I ducked too late, and a strike slipped through. Now it was my turn to back off, creating distance and feeling at the thin line sliced into my left cheek. Andi let me go.

"See?" she said. "You won't survive on the defensive. You won't survive anyway. So why won't you attack back?"

So she'd noticed that. "Just waiting for the right time," I said. "I don't want to do too much damage by accident. You know how it is, you never know what'll do it with senior citizens."

Her lips curled. "Cute."

She closed in on me in a single breath, spear bulleting forward. Her movements were even faster than before, and I realized what I had been doing wouldn't work. I needed to counterattack and take the pressure off, or I would never get the chance to pick my moment.

We fell into a rhythm, trading jabs like the poles on an overworked foosball table. Andi made a grab for my head and I struck her hand with a left hook. I tried to follow up on it but she raised a foot and stomped with enough force to bust open the ground between us, spraying up a cloud of soil.

Andi still looked as fresh as if she had just woken up. A battle of attrition would only end one way. I had to do something, and I had to make the move now while I still had the energy to pull it off.

So I took a deep breath, held it in my chest, and sprinted.

Somewhere in all the dodged bowling balls something had clicked in my mind. I was always hyperalert when someone was out for my neck, like I had downed a dozen espressos and a 5 Hour Energy. That was the demigod perk I paid for with my ADD. But at some point, it was like a whole new level had been opened up.

The surroundings crystalized in my peripherals. I saw a blue jay take off from its tree with a squawk. I watched a squirrel drop its nut and dart behind a tree. More importantly, I saw Andi tense. Recognized her next strike the moment before it started. I sidestepped early and thrust, picturing a shiny new tennis ball right over her shoulder.

My strike landed. Not as square on as I'd hoped, but enough to leave a gash. Andi bit her lip but didn't stop, going for another stomp. I got in close before she could pull it off, and she stumbled back.

She sent off a few more attacks but it was useless. Her center of gravity was off, and there was no way I was letting her regain any rhythm. I closed in.

The chance came when I had forced her to the very edge of the woods. Her foot came down in a divot, and her ankle buckled. In a flash I struck her other leg with a Celestial Bronze kick to the shin. She dropped like a sack of bricks.

Her spear stayed in her hand, but it was useless- she could never get it across in time. I was above her, my spear pointed down, as free a shot as I would ever get. It was the end but-

But it wasn't the ending I wanted.

All it took was a moment. I hesitated, spearpoint hovering. Then a size sixteen combat boot found my sternum and shoved.

Suddenly it was me on the ground and Andi in the power position. She was on me in an instant, and one look at her face told me there wouldn't be any hesitation this time.

"Should've taken the shot, Percy." Her voice sounded genuinely sad. The smile on her lips was so far softer than the sneer from the last day. "Why couldn't you just take the shot?"

I opened my mouth to speak but there was no time. Her arms swiveled downward, starting the movement that would end me.

Flesh tore and red splattered.

Sprouting from Andi's chest was a blade, three feet long and jagged and coated red. It had pierced straight through her from back to front. The blade flicked to the side and Andi fell with it, body sliding listlessly off to reveal the least murderous looking man I had ever seen.

He couldn't have been taller than five-foot-two, and the skin around his mocha eyes was crinkled with laughter lines. Brown hair was cut short and shaggy. His collared shirt was buttoned all the way up, including at the wrists. He looked like a sixty-something volunteer at a food bank, just instead of a ratty sandwich it was a deadly weapon in his hands.

"Thank goodness I arrived in time." He spoke with a British accent, but it was kind of buried. Like one of those kids that had lived somewhere else for years. Bushy eyebrows scrunched together as he looked me up and down. "You are alright, aren't you? The bad woman didn't hurt you yet?"

As he spoke he moved closer, holding his sword unthreateningly behind his back. I scrambled up and kept distance between us.

"Stay back," I warned him, aiming Anthea at his chest. My eyes pinged between him and where Andi was laying. She wasn't moving.

"I understand that you're scared," the man said. He tapped the cover of a leatherbound journal hanging from a loop on his belt. "I've seen this scene a dozen times before, and I've got the names written in here to prove it. Androktasiai talk about wanting a good death, but what they really want is to kill. The poor students don't stand a chance. Every one of them I've met lost their life brutally."

Again, I noticed that he tried to close the distance as he spoke. For all his soft words and pleasant demeanor, he sure seemed hellbent on getting close.

"Out of the way," I said. "Final warning. I need to check on my teacher."

I tried to dart to Andi. The jagged sword sliced out an inch from of my nose and forced me to back off.

"So, you are one of those." All at once his voice went sharp, and a little disappointed. His skin rippled and morphed. Wrinkles swapped out for cuts and scars and burns. He looked like three corpses rolled into one, but twice as gruesome. He grinned, and I was suddenly very glad I hadn't had an appetite for breakfast that morning. "Well, I suppose luck was bound to run out sometime. Mark!"

"Yes teach?"

This came from a familiar voice, and when I heard it my eyes narrowed.

"You," I said.

With all that had happened I'd nearly forgotten about him, but from the woods strolled the teen that had asked me and Andi for directions so many nights ago. He looked the same as he had then, except for a wicked expression that matched his teachers perfectly and a machete dangling from his hand. The knife's surface was patchy and multicolored like it had never seen a single cleaning.

The teen – Mark – tilted his head. "It is me! Surprised? Don't worry, I would be too. We are so wonderfully unpredictable."

"Unpredictability." The man nodded sagely. "The only habit one should keep."

"All too true, Teach," Mark agreed.

"Who are you?" I asked, backing away. "Did Coeus send you?"

The man tilted his head. "Coeus? Doesn't ring a bell I'm afraid. Does it to you Mark?"

Mark spread his arms and shrugged. His machete caught the light of the sun, and I could make out the color of the splattered stains. All of them were blackish red. "I think he's a titan. The ruler of the North, or something goofy like that."

"Huh," said the man. "Three thousand years and I still accumulate useless trivia. Life sure is disappointing."

"It sure is Teach. It sure is."

I began to inch around, trying to circle my way to Andi. I made sure to Keep Anthea ready as I did so. The duo was way too unpredictable for anything else.

"You sure are helpful today Mark," said the man.

"I always am," said Mark. "Except for when I don't want anything."

"Oh? And what is it you want now?"

Mark lifted his hand and pointed straight at my chest. I froze, less than half of the way to Andi. "I want him."

The man's red eyes drifted over to me. A pale tongue darted over blotchy lips. He nodded.

"Take him," he said to his student. "Good boys deserve rewards."

Mark stepped forward, nearly bouncing in place. "So, are you going to let me kill you?"

Andi was still on the ground bleeding. I wasn't even sure she was still alive, and I had to check. But no matter how I looked at it I couldn't see a way that didn't involve going through the duo in front of me. I dropped into a fighting stance.

"Booo!" said Mark. "Come on, just drop the weapon and die. Things'll be fun that way."

My fingers squeezed and my whole body tensed up. "You know," I said, "I really don't have a clue who you two are or why you're doing this. But you're the second person to tell me that today, and I didn't even like hearing it the first time. I've gotten pretty good at stabbing things recently. I would love to show you."

Mark sighed. "Demigods always talk so much at the start. Oh well, good luck with that stabbing business. You'll need it."

He came at me then, but not quickly. He was basically walking, flicking his machete and whistling a scarily upbeat tune. If you had swapped his weapon for a dog leash I wouldn't have looked twice in Central Park on a Sunday.

It was so far from what I expected that I held back, certain he must have some hidden weapon or strategy. But by the time he got into swinging range no surprises had burst out, and even the attack didn't come that fast. I parried it with my metal arm and finished the motion with a left hook, planning to drop him in one go.

I remembered what had happened the last time I saw him about a second before my fist reached his face. Just like Andi's magic cup my arm passed through him like he was made of air. The lack of resistance threw me off balance and I stumbled a few steps to the side, thankfully out of range of any follow-ups from the knife.

He poked at his cheek . "That's a new one. A celestial bronze arm, huh?"

"So it wasn't a trick," I said, sizing him up again. "You really are mortal."

"Ding ding ding." He laughed. "You must never have expected a mortal to attack you. None of the others did. They couldn't wrap their heads around it, even when I, you know-" he jerked the machete back and forth, pantomiming chopping something into bits.

"Good job Mark," called the man. He was stood back with his hands linked behind his back and his sword pointed down, watching appreciatively. "Always play with your food. To do anything else is immature."

"If you're mortal," I said, "then it doesn't matter even if you can see through the mist. You should give up- you can't do anything to me."

"Ah-ah, you've got it all backwards." Mark started closing in with the same sedate charge as before. "You saw it for yourself, your weapons won't touch me. Terribly silly of demigods, using weapons that can't kill indiscriminately."

"Truly spoken!" called the man. "A worthwhile stance. Whomever taught you it must be very commendable indeed."

I took in his complete confidence and almost felt bad for what was coming. He was a few years older than I was, and he had some extra height and muscle. If he'd been fighting properly I might've had a hard time. But he was certain I couldn't hurt him, and boy could I.

"You know," I said just before he reached me, "You should really do more research. Celestial Bronze isn't the only metal out there."

I aimed for the wrist holding the machete. Anthea sliced a gash midway up his forearm and he dropped his weapon with a scream, falling to his knees. The sadistic confidence evaporated, replaced by features twisted with panic.

"No no no no no," he moaned, keeled over and rocking. I kicked his machete across the ground, making sure it skidded out of sight. Then I stepped straight over him.

"Come on," I said to his teacher, pulling my fingers back in a 'come at me' gesture. "I really need to check on Andi, and that means getting you out of the way."

"Andi?" The man coughed in disbelief. "Truly? Andi is what she's going by? Their creativity only gets worse."

"I'm not asking you to judge her name," I said. "Let's fight."

He scoffed. "Her name. As if Androktasiai have real names, those damn fools. Where do you think she got Andi from, demigod? She shortened the word and called it a name. So dreadfully dull. Then again, the others were exactly like that as well."

"The others?"

"You know, the rest of the Androktasiai." He tapped the book resting against his side. "Such a shame to end the list on so uninspired a note. A true anticlimax."

A nasty feeling settled over me. Andi had been so confident that her siblings disappeared because they found good students. Staring at the grinning creep-show in front of me, I wasn't so sure. Hoping to take him down before he could get his sword out from behind his back, I charged.

"Still, they were quite tough." He grinned at me, unmoving. "That's why we don't work alone."

If I had spent any less time dodging projectiles then the throwing knife would have lodged right into my neck. As it was I ducked just in time, popping up to see two women and two men appear from every direction. They were all dressed nondescriptly. If it weren't for their disfigured faces they would've looked like ordinary tourists on a day out. One woman was casually juggling throwing knives. All the others carried weapons too- swords and axes and knives, anything with a blade.

"I never introduced myself, did I?" The man gave a slight bow, nodding his head to me. "I go by Jack. A pleasure for you to lay eyes on me. That-" he pointed at a man with a beefy face and a broadsword held in both hands "-is Charlie. Or Chop-Off, if he's feeling excitable."

"The lovely knife thrower there is Alphabet. Her penchant for alliteration isn't quite healthy, but who are we to stand in the way of her fun." Alphabet grinned and picked at the gap between two teeth with the point of a knife.

"Then we have Doodler – quite the artist, in more ways than one – and Zodiac, our female riddle master."

A man with twin axes blushed. A woman wielding dual Stilletos, one gold and one grey, gave a little twirl.

"And now, with our names shared…" Jack leaned forward, one hand unclipping the journal from his belt. "I think it high time you gave yours."

It was like all of them were waiting with bated breath. Given that I couldn't see a reason for them to care so much about my name, I guessed it was excitement for something that would after. Call me childish, but I didn't like my odds in a fight, and I wanted to at least get one over on them some way.

"I think I'll keep that to myself. You know, stranger danger and all."

"Don't be that way." Jack was still grinning. He opened the journal and let the pages blur by before stopping it on the last two. He scribbled something in, then turned it toward me. Dozens of words were scrawled across the pages. The only blank space was at the bottom of the last page, just enough to fit one final entry. Above it, in fresh ink, was 'Andi'.

"It's quite the point of honor. The last entry, marking completion!" Around the clearing the others oohed and ahhed. Jack leaned forward, rapidly clicking the point of his pen in and out. "Two words, your first and last name, and that spot is all yours."

I raised my eyebrows. "Something tells me you won't just leave if I give it to you."

"Of course we will, as soon as you're written in. I swear it on the River Styx."

The tell-tale boom of thunder echoed. There was no trick, Jack's oath was a real one. But I knew there had to be more to it. I kept silent.

"You also have to die, but really, don't you worry one iota about that. We'll do all the work. You won't even have to move, except maybe to give a few whimpers and beg once or twice. Nothing to it."

I grimaced. Begging wasn't really my thing, and I didn't exactly want dying to be either. But the pack knew how to stage an ambush. They were stood exactly far enough apart that I could only see three of them at a time. Just because I had gotten good at dodging didn't mean I had eyes in the back of my head, so I made my mind up to stall.

"What are you all really?" I asked. I wasn't even sure they would answer, but apparently talking about themselves was something of a hobby: Jack jumped at the chance.

"I'm glad you asked," he said. For a moment his book of names was forgotten, hanging from his hand as he gesticulated. "We are what you would call Phonoi."

"I've heard that name," I said. "You're children of Eris, siblings-"

"Of the Androktasiai," he finished. "It sure is nice when the prey comes informed. So many banal details cut out."

It was only once, but Andi had mentioned the name in passing. The other children of Eris. There were fifteen types in total, but the Phonoi were linked to the Androktasiai because-"

"You're spirits of killing outside of battle," I said. "Of murder."

The Phonoi all groaned except for Charlie, the burly one, who booed in a deep voice.

"And this, is why you don't let Androktasiai explain things," Jack complained. "They always muck up the important bits dreadfully. You see, we are the true spirits of slaughter, not them and their meat-headed ideals."

He stopped, and Alphabet picked it up. Her voice was smooth, like she spent her free time reading poetry in the park. "They were always boasting of battle this and battle that, the bastards. Horrifically hollering about honor. Sickeningly, they search out striking struggles. The fools."

Doodler shifted his twin battleaxes and said, "Real beauty is in two things: procreation and mortal terror. That's why I capture my victims in both. The complete package"

He broke off giggling, and Zodiac pulled a face.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice frighteningly pleasant. "We aren't all like this lunatic. Mortal terror is all the rest of us focus on. Though each has their own methods."

"Like me!" Charlie rested his massive sword against his shoulder and poked his chest. "See, once I do the deed I chop 'em up a bit. Call it desert- the cherry on top."

Jack nodded like a proud parent. "Never underestimate a personal touch, Charlie. Keep up the good work." Charlie beamed, and Jack turned to me once more. "The battlefield is a terrible place." He looked at the ground beneath his feet in disgust. "Even just standing here is rather sickening, to be frank. So much death, and all of it the wrong sort. There is no art in a fight, just two animals clawing at each other's necks for position. Only in helplessness is there beauty. Like the rabbit in the wolf's jaws- or, say, a demigod hemmed in on all sides."

I shivered. The look on his face was that of a butcher eying a slab of meat, and it was mirrored across the face of every one of them. I started to take a step back, then realized that would only take me closer to Charlie and stopped. Jack caught the motion and the curve of his lips steepened.

"Oh I like that," he said. "Keep playing up the hesitant angle. You'll go down a treat."

Apparently, the others hadn't missed my wavering either. Zodiac started giggling and jabbing the air with her Stilettos. Doodler was whispering the chorus to Holiday in Cambodia while sizing up how I would look in chunks. The Phonoi began closing in, all of them except for Alphabet who hung back and prepped her throwing arm. I spun in a circle trying to figure out which way to face before deciding, not for the first time, that I was screwed.

Then Charlie bellowed. His colossal sword dropped from limp arms. Stabbing out of his chest, right where his heart would be, was a thin black and red spearhead. The spear yanked back, and Charlie fell. Standing above his crumpled form was Andi in full battle-ready glory.

She had a deep cut, but not where I had seen her get hit. Instead of the center of the chest it was along her side, like she had jerked out of the way of a killing blow right at the last second. At her appearance Jack began to sputter.

"I killed you!" he shouted. For the first time his composure was nowhere to be seen. "Sliced your life away! I even wrote you into the list, and you have the nerve not to die after that? You… You philistine!"

Rather than answer him Andi looked straight to me. "What do you say, kid? Not the one I had planned, but it makes for a hell of a final exam."

I glanced back and forth between her and the place I had seen her laying just a minute ago. In fact, she was still lying there, looking vaguely dead as she bled on the ground. Then that version fell apart, evaporating into steam. An illusion.

"For the record," I said to her, "your curriculum was at least as bad."

Andi snorted. "For you, maybe." She turned her attention to the Phonoi, and Jack in particular. "So, you guys got to the others, huh? I heard it all. And here I was thinking there was some wellspring of students I was missing out on."

Jack still looked livid, but he seemed to have dragged himself back under control.

"Right," he said to himself. "Right, of course. It's so simple. Why am I worrying about your name in the book? I can just kill you, and then everything is right as rain again."

"You sure you can swing that?" Andi asked. She frowned. "And why was I the last one you guys went for? It was because I'm the strongest, right? Right?"

"You're already wounded," Jack pointed out, ignoring her. He shifted a few steps to the side and the others all followed suit, completing the circle that had been broken by Charlie's death. "There are still five of us, and only two of you."

"Five?" I glanced around and counted again. Unless I was even worse at math than I thought, they were one short.

"Get up, Mark," Jack said.

Mark didn't move. He stayed curled up and bawling.

"Quickly now. I don't want to have to ask again."

At first nothing happened. Then the sobs stopped dead.

"C'mon teach, I don't wanna. That kid can hurt me, and pain isn't fun. Not when it's your own."

"If you help now, I'll let you take the next three kills for yourself."

Before I could blink Mark had popped up, like he was finishing a burpee. His cheeks were stained with snot and bits of grass, but he was grinning. "Why didn't you say so earlier! I would slice up my own mom for that sort of offer. Though I guess I did that already for free … Whatever, I'll think of something else for a figure of speech. Give me a minute."

It would've seemed like a joke from anyone else. But there was this look in his eyes – hollow, vacant, and distant – that chilled the me to the core. I didn't doubt for a second that he had done it. I didn't doubt that he enjoyed it. He would do the same to me if I let him, then to three complete strangers afterwards.

"I want that one," I told Andi, pointing to Mark.

She shrugged. "There's enough to go around. Take him- just make sure you finish the job."

"Finish the job," Jack mused. "You seem rather confident for being outnumbered and injured. Do you really think you can?"

Andi smiled- no, she grinned, teeth and all. She reached up and tossed off her headband, letting it skid across the ground. The black hair that had been pinned up sloshed down to her neck. With it hanging loose she looked like a Keltic berserker, primed to let loose.

"I don't have a clue if we can win!" she bellowed. "Seriously, I have no idea! Isn't that amazing? That's everything a battle is supposed to be about! Come on, let's die so that we can live!"

Jack sighed. "I cannot wait until you are done with," he said, and it was like a ref had blown their whistle.

Andi bundled toward Jack at full speed, but Doodler got between them, repelling her with his axes crossed like an x. That was all the time I got to watch. I had my own job.

Zodiac tried to stab me through the back with her needle-thin daggers. At the same time Mark came from the front, moving full speed this time as he drew a switchblade from one of his pockets. He had clearly learned his lesson- no more relying on my attacks passing through him.

I rolled to the side and popped up with both of them in front of me. Two I could handle. Even Alphabet was focusing her throwing knives on Andi, trying to keep the raging Androktasiai from poking their leader full of holes. I wouldn't have to watch my back at all.

I'm not sure when exactly I started smiling. Maybe it was when I parried Zodiac's follow-up. Or it could've been when I brought Anthea's shaft against Mark's knuckles and his switchblade soared away. All I know is that by the time I had Mark on the ground and Zodiac breathing heavily, blood dripping from cuts up and down her arms and sides, I was grinning. It wasn't half as wide as Andi's, but it was the same type. It probably should have scared me. I didn't want to get a rush from fighting for my life, like it was some A-plus rollercoaster. But in that moment I would be lying if I said it didn't feel good.

"You're too tough," Mark complained. "This is no fun at all. Shame on you."

Zodiac said nothing. She pounced again, and I made it the final time. One flick and her Stilettos were knocked off course, then a thrust finished her off. Like Charlie before her, she dropped silently. Her face looked oddly satisfied as she hit the ground.

I angled my spear down at Mark. "Your turn."

"I know, I know," he said. "But like, do you have to? I don't really want to die. Living is more fun."

"If you're trying to convince me to let you off, no chance. And you're doing a really bad job too."

He shrugged. "I'm just being honest. You can't kill anything in the Underworld, so I don't feel like going. You wouldn't do something mean like that to me would you?"

"Are you kidding?" I stepped closer and Anthea brushed against his throat. "You tried to kill me. You did kill people, I don't even know how many. You deserve this."

"But will you do it?" He leaned forward, breaking his skin and letting a trail of blood trickle between his collar bones. "Sure I kill people. I do it all the time because it's fun. But you don't, and I'm still human too. Can you do it?"

I took a deep breath. My arm shook. But when the answer came, it was a clear one.

"Yes."

He cocked his head. "Neat."

But before I could follow through something happened. There was a cry so loud that I could've sworn the ground shook a little. When I looked up Andi was staggering backwards, a throwing knife lodged in her side and a deep gash from Jack's sword across her chest.

Doodler was already out of action, probably dead, but Alphabet and Jack were still active, and the latter was closing in. Andi was doing her best to look big and scary, but I could tell she was done for. I started to run but I would never make it in time.

Jack darted inside Andi's guard. His jagged sword came up. I needed to stop him somehow, but I was powerless.

Except I wasn't, was I?

I felt the beginnings of a tug in my gut, just like when Andi slammed me into the water. As soon as it came the image of the alleyway came with it, my constant reminder that my best was too slow. Then I blinked, and instead of my mom in front of me it was Andi again. It wasn't too late. Not this time.

It happened faster than the speed of thought. The sensation coursed through me, my stomach coiling and my limbs buzzing with energy. The stream arrived- a very angry, very carefully aimed flood.

It hit Jack like a train, snapping him up and rushing him away. It kept going, and enveloped Alphabet too. Then it hit the woods and blasted apart. Alphabet landed at an awkward angle with a noise so loud that I didn't even need to check to know she was done for. Jack was coughing and sputtering, his sword lodged up to the hilt in an elm tree. I doubted even a Laistrygonian could have pried it loose.

But when I stepped over him he didn't show a hint of fear. It was the same pleasure I had seen on Zodiac right at the end, but magnified. He stared up reverently.

"This is it," he rasped.

I stared down at him, silently.

"Oh, yes. Finally." His eyes drifted closed, his arms falling loosely on the ground. "Rapture."

I stabbed. And that was it.

I turned to survey the scene. All the Phonoi were down. Mark was gone, only a soggy sneaker remaining where he had been lying. The wave must have washed him away too. It was over. We had done it.

A cough drew my attention. Andi was kneeling, looking down at her spear. From the new angle I could see it. The cut on her chest wasn't too bad, but the older one on her side was much worse than I had realized. I bolted over.

"Andi, hold on. We can do something about this, and then-"

She shook her head. "We can't."

"Don't give up," I growled. "Come on, we haven't even tried yet. We'll figure something out. I'll… I'll grab the cups! With those-"

"And when did you get so knowledgeable?" she laughed. "I've seen a lot of wounds. Dealt a lot, too. This one is fatal, not even magic can change that. That's all there is to it."

I opened my mouth to argue but words didn't come. She was right. I may not have been nearly as experienced as her, but deep down I knew instinctively. She was dying.

"Oh quit looking sad! You should've been the one doing this in the first place!"

I sniffed. "Way to make me feel better."

"Yeah, well, what can I say. I have a way with words." She glanced around and sighed appreciatively. "We did a number on them, huh?"

"We did," I agreed.

"That's good. Really good."

Her voice was getting softer. The longer she looked at the scattered Phonoi the more she squinted, like her vision was drifting away in real-time.

"I do have one thing to ask, kid."

"Tell me," I said instantly.

"Look at that eagerness. You know you can refuse if you want, right? I tried real hard to push you earlier, getting under your skin and all, and even then that wasn't enough. I'm rambling. Point is, I want you to be the one that kills me."

"I thought we went through this already." I tried to keep my voice light, but it didn't sound that way, even to me.

"Dying to Phonoi would be acceptable," Andi carried on. "It was a battle to the death. A decent one, too. Good enough. But it could be better. A send-off from my student. The first and only full-fledged one."

She was wobbling now, like she might collapse fully at any moment. If I didn't decide quickly I wouldn't get the chance to choose at all. Except I didn't know what to do. Killing her wasn't what I wanted at all, I wanted to save her but-

But that wasn't an option.

"I'll do it." I would love to say I said it decisively, with confidence. Instead my voice cracked, and the pitch was unnaturally high.

She smiled placidly. "Thanks Percy."

I took a deep shuttering breath. Then I took Anthea and fulfilled a promise.

Andi grunted at first, her shoulders tensing. Then she relaxed. Her hands brushed loosely against the ground. She swayed on her knees, moments away from falling backwards. Her lips slowly pulled open, and she said, "Take that!"

I flinched, startled that she still had that level of volume in her. As I watched she cackled, her unfocused eyes searching in the direction of Jack's body.

"You gods damned Phonoi really thought you could get me, Andi the Androktasiai, didn't you? Well guess what, I'm in your stupid book, and you weren't even the one to kill me. I hope you're enraged, morons!"

She panted, looking as happy as I had seen her. She had the same expression a moment later when she collapsed. I stepped over her checked tentatively. Her chest was still. Her eyes were closed contentedly.

I took a really deep breath. With glacial, meticulous motions I compressed Anthea and slipped Aelia into my pocket. Then I turned and walked away, heading for camp. There was a lighter there, and heaps of firewood. Andi always said in her stories that a hero's funeral meant burning the body.

There would be time to think about other things later. Hopefully, by then, it would hurt just a little bit less.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Acquaintances Crash my Return Party

I couldn't tell you how long I stood watching the clumsy pyre burn. All I know is that when the flames sputtered and died it was late afternoon, and only ashes were left. Andi's body, and the spear I had laid across her chest, had disappeared in plumes of steel-smelling smoke.

I didn't wait for the embers to cool. There was nothing keeping me there anymore, and the heaviness in my chest wasn't going to get any lighter by sticking around.

At camp my bag was exactly where I left it. I unzipped it and stuffed the few things I had brought with me inside, before rolling up my sleeping back and clipping that onto the end. I glanced around the camp, still holding the backpack open. It seemed like a shame to leave so much nice stuff abandoned in a field, but it wasn't like I could shove a water cooler into my pocket.

Then my eyes landed on the table with dinnerware scattered across it, and on one glittering bronze set in particular. It was the plate and cup combo that Andi used to patch me up. I strode over and dropped them into the bag without a second thought.

Nothing else was both useful and portable, so I shoved a hand into a side pocket and rooted around until cold bit into the palm. Closing my fingers and pulling, I found stared at my reflection in a whistle of solid ice. I didn't hesitate to put it to my lips and blow.

I couldn't hear a thing, but Dedalus warned me that I wouldn't. The second my breath passed through it the whistle crumbled into shards and drifted away on the breeze. That meant it worked, I hoped. If it hadn't I was more stranded than a fish on Park Ave.

I strained my senses for signs of something changing. In the end, a single bark was my only warning before I was run over from behind by the hellhound express.

"Hey girl!" I said, my voice muffled by dog fur swaddling my mouth.

"Woof!" replied Mrs. O'Leary. In the background I heard what was either a chain of minor explosives detonating, or her tail striking the ground. With some effort I managed to wiggle free.

"It is really good to see you," I told her. Her enthusiasm was infectious. Plus, not being alone was already helping me feel a bit better.

She gave me a bump with the leather beachball she called a nose and I stumbled, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too. Now come on, let's get out of here."

I expected her to drag me right to the nearest shadow. She didn't usually need a second invitation to head home. But instead she whined and glanced around.

"What is it?" I frowned. "Is something wrong, girl?"

Abruptly, she bounded straight past me into the woods. By the time I spun around she had her jaws around a sapling. One yank and the tree was pulled from the ground, roots and all. Mrs. O'Leary padded back and dropped it at my feet, laying down expectantly.

"You want me to throw that?" I asked.

Her tail wagged harder, so yes. I laughed incredulously.

"I'd love to, but I'm not Hercules. Come on, let's head back and I'll play with you. Dedalus always has plenty of toys."

I walked to the shadow of the aluminum canopy. Instead of following, Mrs. O'Leary started whining.

"I can't throw it. Now come on!"

Very slowly, she picked herself up and headed over. Just before she got to me she whipped around and growled. Her ears went flat and she bared her teeth. I drew Aelia on reflex.

The woods were completely still. Nothing was crunching aside bushes and no thundering footsteps could be heard. Not a branch was out of place, and no ominous smells either. A chubby finch chirped and took flight. As the bird fluttered overhead Mrs. O'Leary bent her neck to track it, growling the whole time. I shoved Aelia away.

"It's just a bird," I complained, rubbing her behind the ears. "I know monsters come in all shapes, but I think I could disintegrate one that small with a drop kick. Let's go."

Mrs. O'Leary stopped growling, but she gave me a look I had only seen right before bath time- apprehensive, like she didn't want any part of what was coming next. I redirected my scratches to right under the chin- her favorite spot.

"What is it?" I asked, wishing she could answer. A bit of worry joined my frustration, but not enough to change my mind.

"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out with Dedalus. It can't be that bad." I leaned in and bumped her muzzle with my forehead, earning a satisfied snort. "I've been gone a while, it's time to head back. So let's go."

She slunk over to the shadow and brushed the ground with her paw. I wrapped my arms around her, and she grunted as if to say, 'I tried'. Then she lunged into the ground, and we were gone.

We appeared from underneath the door of the workshop, just managing not to upend a table coated in what looked like sticks of neon deodorant. They were all packed into plastic carrying cases, and glancing at the other tables revealed stacks of bankers' boxes. That was the first sign that something was wrong. Dedalus's things were never packed up. The second was the figure that appeared at the edge of the loft and made my blood boil.

I whipped out Aelia and clicked twice. The moment Anthea formed I had two hands on the shaft. Grinning down at me, leaning over the railing, was a face I'd hoped to go a lot longer without seeing.

"Wow! Look who it is!" Kelli called down. "To think that we'd meet again so soon. Talk about fate."

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Would you believe it if I said my job?" Kelli pointed. "Just look at the dog. See? She knows I'm supposed to be here."

It was true. Mrs. O'Leary didn't look thrilled, but she wasn't in attack mode. If anything she looked grudging, like I'd just told her I would take her for a walk another day.

I was about to tell Kelli I didn't care at all when the sound of banging metal came from down the hall. A moment later two Laistrygonians entered, both loaded up with piles of boxes. They trudged up to a still-empty table and deposited their loads, grunting. Striding in behind them, watching with a critical eye, was Dedalus himself.

"No, not there!" Dedalus snapped. "How many times do we have to go over this? Automaton parts go to table sixteen, basilisk pheromones to table eleven, and only automatic toiletry prototypes on table five. That is table five, and what is it in those boxes?"

One of the Laistrygonians leaned in and sniffed. "Smells like snakes," he declared.

"Right," Dedalus said. "So…"

The giant thought for a minute. Then his mouth dropped open, and he pounded his fist into his palm. "So it is in the right place."

Dedalus groaned, pulling at his hair with both hands. I cleared my throat, and he jumped.

"Percy! You're back already. I, ah, didn't expect that quite so quickly."

"What's going on?" I asked. "What is she doing here? And the giants, while we're at it?"

Kelli gave a little wave. Dedalus sighed and gestured for me to follow him.

"Things have occurred while you were gone," he said tiredly. "Come along, you'll need to be caught up."

I would've preferred a direct answer for why a flirty vampire that recently tried to suck my blood was now hanging out in my house. But Dedalus didn't look interested in giving the short version, so I trudged across the room. I didn't put Anthea away.

"See you soon," Kelli said. I glared and stepped out of the room. Dedalus followed a moment later once he'd shouted some final directions to his workforce.

"So, start talking?"

Dedalus placed his hand on my back and lead me toward my room. "I take it you two are somehow acquainted?"

"She tried to stab holes in me, and tried to stab even more in my teacher. So yeah, we've met."

"Brilliant," Dedalus murmured. "Because this situation was not complicated enough already."

The door to my room was standing open. When we entered I found that barely anything was how I left it. All the furniture except the bed was gone, broken down and packed into boxes. The walls were blank. Looking into the bathroom, even the showerhead had been disassembled.

"We are moving," Dedalus announced. I had kind of guessed with the state of the place, but that didn't help it make any more sense.

I nodded. "Amazing. That clears up nothing."

Dedalus walked around and plopped onto the bed, his hands resting on his knees. "While you were gone an… offer, came in for my services. A very lucrative one. In the end, I accepted. Kelli is an aid, one sent to help facilitate the transition. And, of course, to make sure I do not experience a change of heart."

Thoughts buzzed through my head. An offer, one he accepted, and whoever it was had sent Kelli to do their grunt work. An image of a polar bear flashed through my head, but just as quickly Andi's words came back to me: Something bigger is out there.

"The titans," I said. "You're working for the titans."

Dedalus coughed. "That's correct. Though I do wonder how exactly you could know that?"

I told him everything about the encounter with Kelli, including Coeus showing up to reign her in. By the time I finished, he was nodding.

"That does save time," he said, leaning back. "I would dearly love to hear all the details of your training, but that can wait. What do you want to know first? Ask away."

I pressed on the top of a cardboard box. When I found it was firm, I sat down.

"What do they want you to do?" I asked.

"A number of things. Some more important than others. I am to lend what help I can in navigating the Labyrinth, though I've already told them not to expect much. As you know, my creation is beyond my control. The price I pay for all these years of privacy. At first, they came asking for Ariadne's string, but-"

"But it isn't here anymore," I interrupted before he could get sidetracked whining. The old man really had a sore spot for people giving his stuff away, and I had no interest in hearing the same spiel I'd gotten a hundred times before. "Did you tell them about the other way?"

"I did," Dedalus said, reluctantly accepting the fast-forward. "They did not trust it though, no matter how many times I assured them. Their disdain for mortals seems to extend too deep- they could not stomach the thought of relying on one."

We'd talked about it before, the way to navigate the Labyrinth. Mortals with clear sight, like Mark or Ariadne herself, could see the way naturally. Even Dedalus wasn't sure why, but he was certain it was true. That was enough for me.

I leaned forward. "So you didn't have the string to give them, and they wouldn't listen afterwards. That sounds really sad for them, but how does it become us moving? And how did they even find the workshop in the first place?"

"Trial and error was how the found it," Dedalus said. "Quite a lot of it, too. They tossed monsters at the problem until some got lucky. Not the prettiest of methods, but effective enough. It got them here, anyhow. As to our moving, their deal had two parts. They have a job for me, an extremely important one. One for which they are willing to compensate very well."

I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.

"I'm being vague for a reason. I swore not to tell the details to a soul, that was one of their conditions. Suffice to say the task will require time and effort, and as finding their way here once was a significant feat, they wished for me to complete it closer to their home."

It was a lot to take in. Dedalus had spent thousands of years hiding out down here, so for him to pack up and ship off…

"What did they offer you?" I asked. "You can talk about that at least, can't you?"

He nodded. "You are likely aware of this already, but the Titans' goal is the same as it was a thousand years ago- the defeat of the gods. Only now it is a revolt, rather than a suppression. If they are successful, certain vacuums will be created. I will be allowed to fill one of those vacuums."

Dedalus leaned forward, his face more serious than while mixing explosive chemicals. "The whole underworld will be my domain. A chance to reunite with Icarus, to atone with-" He cut off, fear in his eyes.

"Atone? Atone for what?"

"It's nothing. A slip of the tongue." Dedalus sat up straight, his intensity swapped for unease. "What is important is that it is a chance to correct my fate. For the first time since Crete, I won't have to flee from shadows. In truth, there are few tasks I would not take on for that."

He was hiding something. My test scores may've said otherwise, but I wasn't dumb enough to miss something so obvious. Still, prying would get me nowhere. Dedalus had as much stubbornness in him as I did, which is to say way too much.

That reminded me. Grinning like a lunatic, I hopped to my feet.

"I told you!" I said, pointing at his chest.

"Pardon? Told me what, exactly?"

"That I would do it. That I would follow your plan and come back just fine. And look at me- not a scratch."

I stretched my arms out wide, showing off my still-operational body. Dedalus snorted.

"So you have," he said. "I must admit, I had forgotten your self-imposed mission-"

"No you hadn't."

He stopped, staring. I shrugged.

"You aren't a good liar. At all. You always start talking slower, and you raise your chin up a little bit."

"I do not," Dedalus said indignantly, lowering his chin.

"You do," I said, "and there's no way you would forget. Not with this. Come on, you know I win this one."

He looked pretty ready to keep arguing, but at that moment the door banged open. One of the Laistrygonian helpers stood in the hallway. He had to lean down to keep his head from rubbing the ceiling, which was pretty impressive considering Mrs. O'Leary could fit fine. His knuckle was raised from knocking, and he stared at the door in befuddlement.

"Only meant to tap," he mumbled. "Silly weak doors."

"Is something the matter?" Dedalus asked, an undertone of irritation to his voice. "Don't tell me you need the directions clarified. Surely Kelli can do that much."

"Not that." The giant shook his head. "Moving team sent message. They are coming."

Immediately, Dedalus straightened. "So soon? Talk about impatient. How long until they arrive?"

The giant started raising fingers. He stopped with eight fingers raised and showed them off.

"Six hours!" he said proudly.

"Um, wonderful." Dedalus cleared his throat. "You may head back now. We must work quickly to have the last bits packed in time."

"Work," said the giant. "I am good at work. Yes I am."

He turned and shuffled off like a hunchback. Dedalus stood with a sigh.

"It will take supervision if I want them to finish on time," he said. "They're horribly inefficient without it."

I started to get up, but he laid a hand on my shoulder.

"You rest up." Before I could protest, he fixed me with a look. "Believe me, you'll be thankful later. The moving team is led by the army's general himself, and I think you're acquainted. A demigod, by the name of Luke Castellan."

A million and two questions flashed through my head, but Dedalus was through the door before I could get out a single one. How helpful of him. I reluctantly shed my bag and dropped onto the bed. Chasing him down now wouldn't do any good. As frustrating as it was, answers would have to wait.

I would love to say I stayed up and analyzed all the new information I had learned, but the moment my head hit the pillow I was out. Duels, deaths, and discoveries… it had been a really long day, and my body was at its limit.

Apparently my mind wasn't, though. As quickly as sleep came, so did the visions. It had been years since my last proper Demigod dream, but the sensation was still the exact same- one moment of weightlessness, like gravity had been reversed, the next I was somewhere new.

I appeared on a mountaintop. Black clouds swirled overhead like dirty bathwater down a drain. Glittering lights and rolling hills made for a fantastic view. On one side the ocean stretched away, and in the opposite direction a huge bay was wedged between cities. It was all really pretty, but not enough to distract me from the man looking out over it.

He was tall, about half the height of the scraggly trees that lined the cliffside. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he was dressed casually- a button-up, khaki shorts, and moccasins. He was the second person I had ever seen with grey eyes, but his were a different shade than Annabeth's. Dull like pavement, though just as sharp. All over his arms and face were crisscrossing scars, enough that two tattoo artists could've had an epic game of tic-tac-toe on him. He could probably look wicked scary if he wanted to, but there was an easy air about him as he smiled at an unadorned steel box in his hands.

"Progress is a wonderful feeling, isn't it?"

A gust of wind rustled the surrounding plant life. In the background a group of tourists chatted while snapping photos, oblivious to the deadly-looking clouds blotting out the sun. But the scarred dude nodded like someone had answered him.

"True, true. Much work to do yet. But I must confess, simply feeling the air on my face is invigorating. It has been such a long time since I could move so freely." Then he gasped, pressing a hand to his mouth. "Oh! That was insensitive of me, wasn't it."

Another gust of wind, but this one felt different. Unnatural. It almost seemed to emanate from the metal box, like a localized tornado of irritation. His ponytail flapping, Scar Dude chuckled to himself.

"Sorry, so sorry. Don't take it to heart, you'll be out in no time. After all, the pieces are already falling into place."

He looked to the side, straight into my eyes. More wind rippled his clothes, echoing like a baritone chuckle. My surroundings melted.

A new scene crystallized, one with even less natural light than the first. It was the middle of the night and pouring. A gutter rattled overhead, lining the overhang of a dingy minimart. Neon letters advertised AS to a barren highway, the opening G completely burned out. I turned in a circle, trying to find what I was supposed to be looking at. A demigod's dreams could be random and confusing, but there was always a point to them. Was this a regular dream?

But it couldn't be. It was too vivid, and I was too aware. Then I noticed them.

It was no wonder it took so long- they were the exact same color as the shadow they were hunched in. A person, one with unkempt black hair blocking their face. They were wearing a black hoodie, black jeans, and black sneakers, which all really contrasted with their pale hands and neck. A light-up CLOSED sign sprayed traces of amber light across something small laying in front of them.

"Are you certain this will work?" the person asked in a hoarse voice.

"Have I done anything to earn your doubt, master?" another voice answered. My head whipped around, but I couldn't spot anyone else. "You must only be patient and follow my instructions, then you will be reunited. I promise it."

The one I could see looked up, and I realized he was only a kid. He couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve. But his eyes looked like a veteran's.

"I'm trusting you," he said. "But if things go wrong, if you're tricking me…"

The shadows stirred. Darkness started to slither, like a sword pulling back to swing. But when the voice answered it only sounded indignant.

"That you would think so low of me! Surely if I wanted to lead you astray, I would have done so already. You know me, master, just as you know that you have nothing to fear from me, only to gain. As it should be."

The surroundings went still again. "Alright," said the kid. He picked up what was laying in front of him- a thin rectangle, about the size and shape of a business card or a nametag. "One month. Just hold on a bit longer."

I woke up with a jolt, hands clenching my blanket. Something was blaring, a distant but incredibly loud alarm. By the time I had stood up, straightened my clothes, and pocketed Aelia, the noise was gone. A moment later Dedalus appeared in the doorway. He was smiling, but it seemed nervous. In his hands was the typewriter-looking machine that had gone off just before he sent me to Andi. That must've been my impromptu alarm.

"How long was I out for?" I asked.

"About seven hours," Dedalus said. "The perfect amount of time to prepare your politest behavior. What do you say, ready to meet our new coworkers?"

I slipped past him into the hallway. "If they say one word about me looking tasty, I reserve the right to stab them."

He ruffled my hair. "Nothing to worry about. The most you're capable of is edible."

"Cute."

Before reaching the workshop Dedalus grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. There was nothing cheery or teasing about his firm expression.

"Be careful, Percy," he said. "The group we are about to meet was not due for at least another month. I requested a larger window, to make sure you would return before the time came. That they are here now, so far ahead of schedule and at such a perfect time…"

"They knew when I was coming." My spine tingled. "They were keeping tabs on me."

"It could have been a coincidence," Dedalus said, his tone showing what he thought of the possibility. "Just watch your step around them. You are more important than you realize."

He gave me a pat on the back and walked through the door. I took a deep breath. Hiding out in the hallway wasn't a long-term solution, no matter how much I may've wished it was.

It was time to meet an old friend.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

I Catch up With a Friend Underground

As a demigod I've seen a lot of strange scenes. Old women with wings and claws, anthropomorphic goats, the list goes on. But a room packed to bursting with arm-wrestling giants, a blond teen standing in front of them with his hands on his hips, might have been a new record.

Luke had changed as much as I had. He was taller and broader, his body no longer stuck in the awkwardness of puberty. His blond hair was better kept and a little darker. At his waist a sword was sheathed. Just from a glance, I could see it was longer than Anfisa.

It was his face that had changed the most. Chiseled like a statue, but also cold as stone. His eyes were serious in a way I had only seen at the lowest moments while travelling together. He stood with stiff posture, his spine straight. An ugly vertical scar sliced from the forehead to his right cheek.

Then he looked past Dedalus and saw me. His eyes widened, followed quickly by a grin.

"Look who it is!" he shouted, putting on a false deep voice. "Percy Jackson, disciple of Dedalus! Clear the way, bigshot inbound!"

I cracked up, starting to think maybe I'd imagined the coldness. "I'm a bigshot? Only one of us is leading an army, Luke! Or is that general now?"

"Not unless you're one of those guys." He jerked a finger at the scattered giants, who had gotten bored with their arm-wrestling and moved on to headbutting contests. When one clash ended in a loud crunch, Dedalus hurried in to direct them.

"So," Luke said, closing in with a gleam in his eyes, "what have you been up to?"

I shrugged. "Training, learning, battling murder spirits… the regular. You?"

He grinned. "Something like that. I'll spill the details on the road- the trip will be long enough without wasting time here. C'mon, let's help your teacher marshal the forces."

When we got to him Dedalus looked on the verge of a breakdown. His arms were swinging like an overcaffeinated conductor as he tried to direct a dozen toddler-brained giants. As soon as he corrected one another would ask a question, and by the time he answered it three others had gotten distracted. Then Luke stepped up and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Attention!" he bellowed. "In order now. Quick!"

The giants scrambled into rows. When were all of them were stood anxiously Luke swept out a hand, stepping aside.

Dedalus cleared his throat. "Perfect. Thank you, general."

Luke smiled. "Please, just Luke. You're older than me after all."

"Well, so are they," Dedalus mumbled, casting an eye at the giants. He shook himself. "Very well. You there, the three on the end, head to table one, nearest the entrance. Then you two…"

I tuned out the barrage of directions. Instead I leaned to Luke and nudged his side.

"Why do they listen to you so well?" I asked. "I didn't even know monsters could follow orders."

He winked. "You pick up a few things after you've been in the job a while. Monsters aren't so hard, once you learn what makes them tick."

"I guess I wouldn't know," I admitted.

"You'll have it down in no time. I know you will."

I wasn't sure that was a compliment, but he said it like one, so I decided that was how I would take it. Dedalus finished rattling off instructions and the giants looked to Luke, who gave them a firm nod. They sprung to action as if prodded with a cattle iron.

Ever heard the saying many hands make light work? Well, many giant hands make extremely light work. Within minutes the piles of boxes were hoisted and prepped for transport. If the titan army ever gave up on world domination, they had one hell of a future as a moving business.

We filed out of the workshop, Luke at the front with me and Dedalus just behind him. Mrs. O'Leary was waiting outside, but what surprised me was she wasn't alone.

Packs of Dracaena, a few smaller hellhounds, and even some demigods were milling around. Kelli was off to one side, chatting animatedly to two other teenage girls. Everything with opposable thumbs was carrying a torch, giving the dim corridor some light. There were enough in total to raid a medium-sized castle no problem.

"What are these guys for?" I asked.

"Someone's got to clear a path for us," Luke said. "The Labyrinth isn't exactly known for offering safe passage. I expect you'd know that better than anyone."

"And the torches? We're a little past the fifteenth century."

"Ah, those. They're a gift. More reliable than flashlights, especially long-term. Don't need batteries either."

I wondered how that worked- they just looked like regular old torches. "Sweet."

Luke smirked. "I'll pass your complements on to Lady Hecate."

When they spotted us all the groups stirred. Dracaena saluted. Demigods hastily straightened their armor. Every set of eyes pointed our way.

It took everything I had to keep from drawing my weapon. My instincts were screaming at me to run or fight or do literally anything to not be surrounded by monsters. I wondered if Luke felt it to. If he did he was hiding it well. With a bored expression, he didn't even bother speaking. One point of his finger was all it took to get the huge group moving with us near the center.

"Impressive," Dedalus mumbled.

"There's nothing to it," Luke said.

"Believe me," said Dedalus sourly, "if it were that easy I would've been saved so many headaches over the last month. Somehow, training a hellhound was easier…"

As if sensing she was being talked about, Mrs. O'Leary bounded over. One poor demigod nearly got squashed under her paws, and her wagging tail slapped a giant's head left, then right. Unaware of the chaos in her wake, she leaned her head against Dedalus, rubbing his side as we walked.

"I owe her one," Luke said, nodding to Mrs. O'Leary. "Without that dog we would've been caught long before getting to Camp. She gave us a fighting chance."

"And who would 'we' be?" Dedalus asked.

I stared at him. He knew exactly who it was. I'd given him every detail of my misadventures dozens of times, from names down to the types of food we ate. But his face was the picture of curiosity as he awaited an answer.

Luke gave him a slightly strange look. "The group I traveled with when I was younger. I thought Percy would've told you."

Dedalus shrugged. "I'm sure he did, but it was quite a while ago. I forgot. Were there a lot of you?"

"No, not many." Luke glanced around, checking that everyone was marching in their proper places. "Four at the highest, two at the lowest. Just a few of us."

"For demigods, four may as well be an army. It's impressive that you got anywhere at all with a group like that. Most wouldn't have been able to."

Natural light had been decreasing slowly, small slits in the ceiling that had been allowing bits of natural light having slowly disappeared. Now that the torches were our only light, Luke pulled a flashlight from his pocket and aimed the beam at the floor. "Thanks, I guess. But I'd say it was mostly luck."

Dedalus smiled knowingly. "The skilled ones always do, after the fact. I don't believe in luck, though. Not for demigods, and quite definitely not for children of the Big Three."

He wouldn't hear any arguments from me. When things went right, it was usually only to guide me into the next heap of trouble. Luke hummed.

"I never mentioned Thalia," he said.

Dedalus just chuckled. "My memory fades in and out. Sometimes things are there, at others I lose them entirely. I blame it on age. There's only so much reliable storage up here after all."

He tapped the side of his head, and I wondered how literal that analogy was. I'd still never learned exactly how Dedalus's mechanical body worked. I probably still wouldn't have understood even if he explained it to me. Something told me trapping your soul in a bunch of screws and gears took math more advanced than high school algebra.

"I'm sure it would be," Luke agreed good-naturedly. Then something on the edge of his flashlight beam caught his attention. His fingers clenched, and his mouth curved slightly down. "Hold on a second, I have something to straighten out. I'll be right back."

He slipped forward, muttering something about slackers. While he chewed out the vanguard for their marching form – is it even marching when your legs are snakes? – I glanced at Dedalus. In the semi-darkness, it was harder than normal to read his expression.

"What are you up to?" I asked. "And don't think for a second that I buy anything about spotty memory."

"That's harsh of you," Dedalus said. "What reason would I have to lie?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

He scratched Mrs. O'Leary under the chin. "An inventor should never neglect the experiment phase. You don't know what may blow up on you later if you don't."

"Luke is an experiment, then?"

"For now."

"And the Titans?"

"Oh, they're involved in quite a few." Dedalus poked my temple. "You should take a lesson from that."

I rubbed the spot. "What, to always be careful about the people you work with?"

"No," he said. "To find exactly how far you can piss them off before they decide to stab you. It's a wonderful way of setting boundaries. Now, go on- I'm sure you and your friend have plenty to catch up on away from my meddling."

He gave me a little shove. I glanced back at him, but he was busy looking away whistling to himself. With a sigh, I sped up.

I caught up just as we rounded a corner and the surroundings changed. What had been wooden and creaky, like the hold of a pirate ship, became immaculate stainless steel. Nobody in the group looked surprised. I guess we all had experience with the chaos that was the Labyrinth.

What did surprise me was the group of six Dracaena waiting by a fork in the path. To the left, a narrower pitch-black passage curved away. To the right there were spots of natural light, sunbeams reflecting on the metal floor, but also low rumblings that sounded suspiciously like snoring. When they saw us the snake women pointed at the left passage, and our group filed down it without stopping. The new additions slithered over to join the flank.

"Pretty clever, huh?" Luke had noticed my arrival. "The Labyrinth may be chaotic, but so long as we can retrace our steps before it shifts, we can get out easily."

"Maybe," I said. The idea was logical, which was why I couldn't shake the feeling it wouldn't work. If there was one thing the Labyrinth despised, it was making sense.

"Harsh, Percy. Have a little faith." We walked a few steps in silence before he sighed. "I said I would fill you in on the way, didn't I? About, well, this." He gestured at the marching army and his own manicured clothes. "Now is as good a time as we'll get. Go for it."

"Is Annabeth with you?" There were more obvious questions to ask first, like how he'd become BFF's with the titans or what hair routine he was using to get his locks so much smoother than the last time I'd seen him. But for some reason, that one struck me as the most important."

"She is picking the wrong side at the moment," Luke said carefully. "But don't worry too much about it. We'll be having a full reunion soon enough."

That wording seemed pretty weird to me, considering last I'd heard Thalia was a tree. But that was a topic I wasn't willing to go anywhere near just yet. Instead I asked, "And these demigods? Where'd you find them?"

"Camp, mostly. At least they were there for a bit. Some longer than others. Almost all of them were never claimed, or had parents not deemed important enough for a cabin. You know what the gods are like."

I wasn't quite sure what claimed meant, or why the kids would be so concerned about getting a wooden building, but I got the gist of what he was saying. They were like us. Their lives had been twisted around and mucked up, and they were looking to do something to change them. I glanced over my shoulder at a pair of demigods marching and chatting. A boy a little younger than I was, and a girl that looked slightly older. The girl said something, and the boy chuckled, brushing the fringe of his brown bangs from his face. They should've been wandering around a mall somewhere, not decked out in armor deep underground. That thought made me a little mad.

"There's no place for kids like us, is there?"

"Us?" Luke asked.

"Demigods," I clarified. "We're always running from something, stuck between worlds. Dedalus taught me a lot. I know our odds of surviving to college, let alone longer. It isn't right."

Luke patted my back. "That's why we're doing this, isn't it? If the system sucks, raze it."

As he said razeit, it felt like he really looked at me hard

"Do you think we can?" I asked. "I mean, Olympus has stood for what, two-thousand years? They won't go down easy."

"Honestly?" Luke said, "I'm not sure that we can fail. The gods are experts at pissing others off, and it's catching up with them. You'll understand when you see the base. This isn't just us anymore. Far, far from it."

It didn't seem like empty talk. Whether he was right or not, Luke truly believed what he was saying. In fact, he almost looked intimidated, like a surfer at the crest of a monster wave who knew he had no choice now but to ride until it broke. But mostly he looked excited. Even years ago, I had known how badly he wanted to get back at his father. I wasn't sure there was anything he wouldn't do for that sort of chance.

"Think about it for a second, though," he carried on. "A world we can help design. One where lives like ours don't happen. No absentee parents. No runaways forced to live on the street. No killing kids over silly prophecies."

"Hold up." I held up a hand. "I don't mean to be a downer, but isn't that last one literally what Kronos did? Eating his kids before they could become a threat? That doesn't seem like great assurance for him getting rid of it. And it will be his world, won't it? It's not like we'll be able to veto him, just because we helped out a bit."

It was hard to spot in dark, but Luke paled. "Uh, Percy? Careful with that. The leader doesn't take too well to people talking bad about him. He hates failure, too. He won't kill you, not with how important you are, but he doesn't have to. He has other ways to shut you up."

He rubbed his forehead as if fighting down a migraine. An unconscious habit, and one that came with a shiver. Whatever 'other ways' Luke had experienced, just the memory made him uncomfortable.

"Got it," I said. "Thanks for the heads up."

He gave a thin smile. "No problem. Don't get too worried. Just try not to complain, and if you do at least drop the name. As long as you bring in consistent results you won't have anything to worry about."

"No pressure," I added.

"That's the spirit."

As we got further the metal of the passage didn't disappear, but it did stop being smooth. At first it was lumps. Protrusions on the floor, walls, and ceiling, something pressing hard from the other side. The demigods grumbled about the uneven footing, but the dracaena just slithered straight over.

Then I saw the first one. It was the same as the other lumps, except it was burst at the top. Rising out and up the wall was a girthy root that ran all the way to a matching hole in the ceiling. Looking around, Luke frowned.

"This doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "We were just through here. But I never saw this."

"It's the Labyrinth," I told him. "You said it earlier- it isn't known for letting people travel through it."

He glanced at me. "I meant more, you know, the things inside it. Not the maze itself."

"Then you were worrying about the wrong part."

Soon roots crisscrossed the path, starting to layer on top of each other. Our pace slowed to a crawl to keep from tripping. As we passed a knot of roots, I could've sworn I saw chips taken off it. Like bites from tiny teeth.

The attack came without warning. A hellhound near the front yelped, and by the time I looked its way the dog was disintegrating, a trio of arrows falling with the dust. From somewhere down the tunnel came a whooping battle cry, and more projectiles fired out of the dark.

As the Dracaena reoriented to meet the attack, Luke started barking orders.

"Block off the right side! Funnel them toward the hellhounds, then support! Kelli, keep those at the back watching for an ambush!" Then he glanced at me. "Stay beside me. Nothing should get to us here."

I nodded, peeling my eyes for a look at our attackers. Whatever it was, they were small. None of the silhouettes could've been taller than three foot. But they were crafty, hanging back beyond the glow of the torches. One frustrated Dracaena broke formation and rushed forward. A moment later she went down looking like a porcupine, arrows sprouting from everywhere.

Some of her sisters joined her, lucky shots finding chinks in their armor or lodging in their necks. A hellhound's snarl was cut short as a shaft sprouted from its nose. I would've been worried if our force wasn't so huge. Every monster we lost couldn't make a dent in the total numbers. The longer the arrows came the more Luke urged the troops forward:

"Quicker! Quicker! Don't allow them time to fall back!"

A demigod that landed the first hit. He darted through the lines and stabbed his spear nearly blind into the dark. A shrill squeak echoed. The torchlight illuminated the creature for a second before it crumbled to dust- pointy ears, leathery brown skin, and goatlike legs. It looked like a cross between a satyr, an elf, and a leather bag, all rolled up and shrunk to the height of an elementary schooler.

"It's kallikantzaroi!" Luke shouted. "Press up close and they can't fight back! Go!"

With a cry the whole front portion surged forward. Some were picked off by arrows, but soon the kallikantzaroi were stuck in the light, unable to hide any longer. Their eyes squinted. Wails and squawks echoed as they were cut down. Most tried to flee but only ran headfirst into walls. Others ran the complete wrong way and collided with the slaughtering soldiers.

"What's wrong with them?" I asked, watching the figures that had been such deadly archers cower and flail helplessly.

"Kallikantzaroi live their whole lives underground," Luke said. "Their eyesight is excellent in the dark, twice as good as a human's outside, but they're so sensitive to light that they're practically blind in it."

With the threat seeming mostly gone, I took the chance to glance around the passage. The first thing I noticed was the strange shape of the roots. They seemed to swirl and open up to offer as much surface area as possible. It looked designed, or at the very least not natural.

Then I spotted something more interesting.

"Are those… houses?"

Along the walls what looked like dens were built into the gnarled roots. Little gaps plugged up with claylike mud. The deeper we pressed the more dens I saw, and the louder the remaining kallikantzaroi squealed.

Luke followed my gaze. "Those holes? Probably. Kallikantzaroi are vegetarians. They won't even touch demigods if left alone, since they only eat off the roots of potently magical trees." He stared at the roots around us, tracing them from floor to ceiling. "These won't be an exception. Whatever tree they belong to must be powerful. I wonder which it is."

I didn't really feel like guessing with him. Knowing that we were strolling through someone's home slaughtering them didn't make me feel all that good. Sure they were monsters, but from what Luke had said they wouldn't even have attacked if we hadn't marched an army through their home. Did they even count as monsters at that point? And who wouldn't fight back in their shoes?

A shout up ahead drew my attention. A kallikantzaroi had landed a lucky hit using his arrow like a spear, slicing a demigod's leg and rushing past him. Even blind, the little guy was slippery. Darting between legs and underneath clumsy swipes, whipping his arrow in front like a snowplow.

But luck could only get him so far. A hellhound kicked out and slammed him into a roll. He stopped with a thump, splayed at Luke and I's feet.

"Huh," said Luke. "Would you look at that."

He didn't draw his sword. Instead he bent down and nabbed the arrow out of the little guy's hand, holding it point down. The kallikantzaroi was groaning and holding his side, completely out of it.

A chirp rung from the edge of the passage, followed immediately by a high-pitched squeal. A tiny kallikantzaroi had rushed from one of the dens, shielding his eyes. Behind him a female in a tunic-like dress reached out a desperate hand at the den's entrance.

The small one was making a beeline for us. I drew Anfisa, but I might as well not have. He didn't even look at us as he draped his body over the adult's like a protective blanket.

His eyes were shut tight. I could see his arms trembling. He was terrified, but didn't look up or move, keeping his body as a shield. The adult seemed to have realized he was there and tried to push him off, but he wouldn't budge. Both were letting out streams of burbling chirps. I let Anfisa sink to my side. They weren't any threat.

"Wow. Two for the price of one."

My eyes widened. The moment before Luke drove the arrow down I saw what was coming and lunged to stop him. Someone caught my arm and held me back, andI whirled to find Dedalus shaking his head. I didn't even notice he'd gotten so close.

The kallikantzarois disintegrated, clutching each other until their hands crumbled.

"Keep an eye out for stragglers!" Luke shouted, tossing the arrow aside. The female wailed from the den, and Luke glanced toward her. "Check the dens as you go, starting with that one. We don't want any threats to the rearguard."

Every word out of his mouth was professional, but he couldn't fool me. Not after what I had seen. He was enjoying this. The killing, and the enemy's fear. There was no other explanation for his complete lack of hesitation. Unconsciously, my hand tightened on my sword.

"Don't do anything we would regret," Dedalus whispered to me, grabbing my wrist.

"Do you expect to just put my head down and ignore all this?" I whispered back.

"That's exactly what I expect," he said. "Throwing a tantrum here will do nothing. Or do you think we could win against everyone here?"

I wasn't too hot on him describing my righteous stand as a tantrum, but I did like that he said we. It was a good reminder that even if I ruined his plans, he would still be watching my back. Because that was what he was doing; even if I didn't like it, starting a fight here would only end badly. Reluctantly, I put my weapon away again.

"Thank you, Percy," Dedalus said, and I could hear he meant it.

"Yeah," I said, putting my head down and pulling free from his hand. "Let's just get through here."

The fighting was pretty much over. The few remaining kallikantzaroi warriors were being trapped and dusted one by one. Demigods and dracaena were searching the closest dens, prodding with torches until they caught fire. If anything darted out to escape the flames, that was the last thing it did. I averted my eyes. There was nothing I could do. If only telling myself that would let me believe it.

Luke looked around, surveying the process. "Not bad," he said. "The path will be cleared soon." Then he looked back over his shoulder. "But behind… there were other dens. Someone needs to double back and deal with them. Kelli!"

I started. Right, there were other dens we'd missed. A crazy idea started forming. Maybe there was nothing I could do for these kallikantzaroi, but that didn't mean I couldn't do anything for every kallikantzaroi. If I could get the others out, at least warn them before all the roots were burned…

But would that really work? And as bad as I felt for them, was it worth the risk? They were monsters. Vegetarian, self-sacrificing, isolationist monsters- except that was a contradiction, wasn't it?

My eyes fell on the torch in a demigod's hands, the options weighing on my mind, and as my brain worked it's light flashed bright purple. A woman's voice, so close it left goosebumps on my arm, whispered in my ear:

"Choices, choices. Never underestimate them, hero. You can be great or terrible. Merciful or ruthless. Successful, or a horrid failure. At everything's core, is a choice."

My vision began to tunnel. Twin visions flashed in front of my eyes, one where I doubled back and one where I put my head down and carried on. My breath quickened. More and more images flashed, more and more expressions, events that I could only make out flashes of and scenes I could only-

"You called?"

Kelli's voice jolted me back to reality. The torch's glow was back to orange. Nobody was looking at it or saying "huh, that was weird," and there certainly wasn't anybody close enough to whisper to me. As my heartrate settled, I realized that, at some point, I had decided.

"Yes, Kelli. Take a group and-"

"Wait," I interrupted Luke. "Let me do it."

Luke frowned. "Percy, there's no need for that. We've got enough bodies without you chipping in. Besides, it's dangerous."

"I know," I said. "but I feel cramped just standing around. I'm not cut out for the sidelines, you know?"

Dedalus appeared at my shoulder. "Let him do it," he said. "I didn't train a student so weak as to die to a few goblins. It will be good experience."

We shared a look, and I knew he was on to me. He gave a minute nod. His green light.

"I suppose it would be alright," Luke said, sounding unconvinced.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Kelli bounced over and tried to wrap her arm around my shoulder. "We can do it together. Wouldn't that be so romantic?"

I stepped out of the way and she flashed past, coming up with air. As she turned with a pout, I shook my head.

"I'll do it myself. Or if you're really worried, I can take Mrs. O'Leary. But I won't go with someone I don't trust."

"Alright," Luke said. The way he looked at her, I got the feeling he didn't think much higher of Kelli than I did. "You could also take some demigods, or…" He trailed off, seeing my face. "Alone it is. But be careful, and take this."

He beckoned over a dark-haired kid with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. Pointing at the torch, he said, "Percy's going to be borrowing that."

The kid glanced around as if to say 'who's Percy?' With a grunt, Luke pointed my direction. The kid practically tripped over himself rushing to give it to me. Irritating his superior seemed to bring him physical discomfort.

"It's an honor to be of help," he said to me as he passed it over, but I got the feeling he was talking indirectly to the son of Hermes behind him.

"Thanks," I said. "It's an honor to, uh, use your torch I guess."

I set off the way we had come.

Sure, I couldn't help most of the kallikantzaroi. Hell, I couldn't even save their homes. But that didn't mean all of them had to die. Not if I had anything to say about it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

A Monster Gives Me Wood

Once you were looking for them, it was amazing how many dens there really were. My torch illuminated them as I walked- entirely hollowed-out clumps of roots, elaborate tunnels with three or more entrances. I walked until reaching the first visible root, then spun and started my work. I wouldn't to miss a single den, I could do that much at least.

The first one was squat and spherical, pressed against the base of the wall. It was no wonder everyone had missed it- the entrance wasn't much wider than both my fists held together. I pressed my face against the gap to look inside.

Only my demigod-enhanced reflexes kept my eye from being gouged out by a sharpened bit of wood. I jerked back, stumbling away. As my arms wobbled to help keep my balance the torch lit the area. A tiny kallikantzaroi hissed, blinking rapidly and continuing to stab the air.

"Whoa there," I told him. "Chill out a second. I'm not going to hurt you."

Understandably, he didn't listen. He even started projectile spitting, which would have been pretty impressive if I wasn't busy dodging the borderline-green liquid. Finally I darted close and grabbed his weapon.

"Give me that for now."

The tug-of-war lasted longer than I was proud of considering he was a tenth my size, but eventually I was holding the bark shard and he was holding nothing. He sunk most of the way back into the den, just leaving his fingers and half of his face sticking out. His pointy nose rested on the lip like a mountain climber's pick.

First, I held my hands up. "See? Nothing too scary about me. I'm trying to help."

Slowly, he started pulling himself into sight. I smiled coaxingly.

"That's it, just come out for a second. There's a good goblin."

He was almost out now. There was his torso, and then his hips, and then-

He hawked a glob of saliva straight on my forehead. The residue oozed down my nose, and my eyebrow twitched.

"I'm trying to help you!" I wasn't being reasonable, and I knew it. He had good reason to be defensive. But we were on a time limit, and boy did whatever the guy had eaten stink.

"What ith it you think you're doing?"

I whipped around. A female kallikantzaroi was staring me down- or squinting me down, her eyes narrowed because of my light. She was holding a club, and a few adolescents were hovering behind her holding onto the hem of her dress. But what surprised me most was that she had spoken, not chirped or squawked. Aside from pronouncing the 's' in is identical to the 'th' in think, her speech was flawless.

"You can talk?"

"As well as you can ask idiotic questions," she drawled, lisp still present. "Now answer, before I knock your head from your shoulders. What are you doing to my cousin?"

"Cousin?" I glanced at the little goober that had spit on me, then back to her. "I'm trying to get him out of the den."

Her eye narrowed even more. Somehow. "Why?"

"So that I can burn it."

She lifted her club, and I threw out my hands. "Wait! I can explain."

"Best do it quickly."

I couldn't help but admire her confidence. She could barely look in my direction, but when she said she would kill me it was hard not to believe it.

"I'm not the only one here," I said. "Obviously. And the others, they sent me back to burn the dens. They'll check that I did it, and if they see the roots still standing they'll do it themselves. What I can do, is make sure nothing is inside when they burn."

Her mouth split in a snarl, revealing splinters stuck in the gaps between serrated fangs. "You're asking us to stand aside and let you burn our homes to ash?"

"Better that than you burning with them, right?" I shook my head. "Look, this sucks. I'm sorry this is happening to you, but I can't stop it. This is the most I can do."

She stared at me a while. She was trying her best to keep up her confident façade, but she was wavering. I didn't blame her- it wasn't a choice I ever wanted to make.

Then I heard a noise behind me. The tiny kallikantzaroi was hoisting himself out. He vaulted his legs over the edge and dropped to the floor. For a second he made eye contact with the other kallikantzaroi, then he scurried along the wall, chirping.

The female sighed. "I suppose that's the choice made. All of you, help him."

The adolescents joined the tiny one, chirping their way down the opposite side. It was incredible to watch. Every chirp had another kallikantzaroi appearing from one crevice or another. Some dropped from the ceiling. Soon nearly forty of them were standing around chittering to each other. Most were clearly children, some were women. One hobbled on a crude wooden crutch, his foot mangled. Another was missing his arm below the elbow.

Now that I was surrounded, I had no idea what to say. Going "Hey guys, sorry your friends are dead, but I'm going to be burning your houses now!" seemed insensitive, and possibly a good way to get myself attacked. Or worse, spit on again. My nose was still sticky, and I couldn't escape the stench of rotted wood.

Luckily, I didn't have to decide. The female that had confronted me stepped forward and cleared her throat.

"A dark day, today is," she proclaimed. "The last for the home we have built. A day of goodbyes."

She paused, allowing time for the crowd to react. A wave of cooing swept over them. The noise rolled mournfully off the walls, heavy in my ears.

"But dark days? We are used to those."

I blinked at the sudden change. Her voice no longer sounded sad. It wasn't whining, nor was it angry. She was simply stating a fact. Around the crowd, I saw a lot of shrugging.

"Eight hundred years ago, the Nemean lion stumbled into my village. Our arrows bounced from its pelt. One swipe sent five warriors flying and tore our homes from the ground. It was a slaughter." She spread her arms. "You all. Share."

The old guy with the crutch hobbled forward and spoke with the same lisp: "Stumbled onto a young dragon, a few decades ago. Nothing more than a hatchling. Still bit through my ankle in one snap before my brother pulled me to safety. Then he got eaten."

A teenage one a couple of years off full-grown went next. "My family was killed after teaching me to eat. Spotted by heroes on a quest, I think. I'm not sure, since I wasn't there. That's why I'm here."

One by one, others gave their stories. Lost family members, destroyed homes, even their own deaths and struggles returning from Tartarus. The culprits varied as much as the tragedies, everything from demigods to other monsters to natural disasters. After about ten had spoken, the original held her hand up for silence.

"These are the lives of weak monsters. We lose, die, and return to die again." She slammed her club into the ground. "So it goes!"

The crowd nodded their agreement. Some chuckled.

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. For the first time, she gave a small smile. "What I mean to say, demigod, is do not be upset. This is our way of things, and we are long used to it. Pity is more mercy than we need, so do what you must."

There was buzzing in my ears. A feeling I'd never experienced swept over me, somewhere between respect and despair. I walked to the nearest roots.

"My name's Percy," I said.

She tilted her head. "Mm. Mine is Eupheme."

I touched flames to the bark.

It took a moment to catch, but once it did the fire spread fast. Soon it crackled all along the right wall. I repeated the action on the other side, and we found ourselves wedged in a channel between burning roots.

The scene would've been beautiful if it weren't so horrible. I kept finding myself comparing it to a huge campfire, before remembering that those were homes going up in smoke.

"I should go," I said.

Eupheme had covered her eyes, along with the rest of the kallikantzaroi. The light from the flames was too intense for them. "Very well. Travel safely."

I started to hurry away, before stopping as something bit into my palm. Looking down, I found the sharp bit of wood I had wrestled away from the first kallikantzaroi. I closed the fist, a decision made.

I found him deeper in, standing dangerously close to the fire. Even with so many gathered, he was close to the smallest. Despite that, there was a firmness in the way he was standing, like he was ready to fight at a moment's notice.

"Here," I said, laying a hand on his shoulder and holding the bark out to him. "This is yours."

He turned, and unlike the others he wasn't shielding his eyes. They were nearly shut, sure, but his arm wasn't blocking anything. It was like he wanted to see.

Then his eyes fell onto the bark. He recognized it instantly. Bony fingers reached out, brushing over its surface. They started to wrap around it, only to stop.

"Will you remember this?"

I jumped at the raspy whisper. I had assumed him too young to speak, but he did so now calmly and confidently, tilting his tiny head with the statement.

"Not really," I said. "If I had saved you, you'd still have your houses, and so many wouldn't have died. This was just a crappy replacement."

"More than others did," he said. "You seem different. Keep it."

It was strangely touching. "You sure?"

"Just don't forget," he said.

I stuck the wood in a pocket, making sure it was positioned in a way that wouldn't splinter. "What exactly shouldn't forget? I mean, we should make sure we're on the same page right, just to be safe. So that I don't take the wrong lesson or whatever…"

"You already know," he said. His eyes opened fully to make eye contact, which I could tell hurt, because I could see them watering. "Don't you?"

"Maybe? Well… sort of?"

I assumed it was something to do with the stories they'd told, about all their dying and struggling. Monsters are people too, or something along those lines. But I wasn't sure exactly.

He only nodded. "Think you do."

Great. Apparently being annoyingly vague was a widespread condition. Dedalus had it, Luke was showing symptoms, and even little monsters weren't safe. Boy, did they start them young. "What's your name, at least?"

"Don't have one yet," he said. "Got to earn one first. Tell you next time."

"Next… time?"

"Uh-huh. We'll probably meet again, I think."

I thought about asking why, but figured I would only get another vague, completely unhelpful answer. "Cool. I'm Percy."

"Goodbye Percy."

He returned to squinting into the flames. I straightened, brushed the soot off my pants, and gently pushed through the last of the kallikantzaroi crowd.

The figure waiting made me jump so high I almost headbutted the ceiling.

She was clearly a demigod from Luke's army. In fact, it was the girl I had seen chatting with a younger boy right before the fighting started. Long black hair was tied in tight a ponytail. Her leather breastplate was worn over top of a white t-shirt and simple cargo pants. Instead of a helmet she wore a bronze headband. Golden eyes the shade of first-place medals were giving nothing away, but her sword was sheathed, so I figured she at least wasn't about to gut me on the spot.

"Okay, so I have a really good explanation for why this is actually not at all what it looks like."

She regarded me a moment before turning away. "Luke sent me to get you. The group is ready to move."

I hurried after her. "Hey, you aren't going to mention this to him right away, are you? I'm telling you, you've got the wrong idea. I was just… trying to be more efficient! Let it burn slowly, so that I don't miss a single one."

"Mhm."

"You know how slippery they are. Super slippery. There was no time for taking chances, or else-"

"Do me a favor," she said. "Zip it."

My mouth opened and closed a few times. "Alright."

We were getting close now. Even as I rubbed the residual saliva off my nose with a shirtsleeve, I could see torchlight up ahead. The thought of stopping her with force passed through my head, but I threw it out. This was a living, breathing girl, not some monster whose soul would reform in Tartarus. That would be crossing a line.

Unfortunately, no other options came to mind. Somehow my smooth sweet-talking had failed. I had no choice but to follow and wait for punishment to come crashing down.

We reached the first monsters from the group. A reluctant dracaena was bandaging a hellhound's injured thigh. The teen girls I had seen Kelli chatting with were examining their fingers, complaining how hard it was to get ash out of claws. One gave a flirty wave as we passed but I didn't even react, preoccupied with worrying about what would happen to me.

I probably wouldn't be killed. For some reason, I was important. Dedalus told me as much, and Luke said the same. Maybe they would lock me up? That would suck, but as long as Dedalus didn't take the blame then it could be worse. Or I could make a break for it. If I was quick enough, I might make it back to the group of homeless sort-of-friends I had left behind.

I was still trying to think up a way out when a cleared throat broke me from thoughts. I looked up to find Luke right in front of us, his arms crossed. The girl saluted, and he waved for her to report. I shut my eyes.

"He did it perfectly. There wasn't a spot untouched."

"Of course he did!" Luke grinned, giving me a smack on the shoulder. "I didn't expect anything else."

"Yeah," I said, chuckling and trying not to stare. There wasn't a hint of a blush on the girl's cheeks. She looked completely unflustered, and absolutely nothing like she was lying in her superior's face. "That's me. The doing-it-perfectly… dude. In the flesh."

"Can I be excused?" The girl shifted her ponytail, adjusting the angle of her sword against her waist.

"Sure," Luke said. "Good work."

She gave a curt nod and left.

"Hey!" I said. "What's your name?"

"Victoria," she said without looking back. Her armor disappeared in the crowd of bodies.

"What's this?" Luke leaned in, wrapping a hand around my shoulder. "Does Percy have a littl H?"

I bucked his arm off. "That's not it. Seriously, you're way off."

"Right," he nodded. "You're just interested in her. Closely interested."

He waggled his eyebrows, and I stomped ahead. "Don't you have an army to be leading?"

"Don't worry," he called after me. "You'll learn to be honest about your feelings soon. Big brother Luke will help you through it."

"Screw off, cousin."

I could hear him busting a gut behind me, and the sound made me shiver. Somehow, with every laugh, it was like the image of him from the battle was being pushed further away. That wasn't something I wanted to lose sight of, but that suddenly seemed a very easy thing to do.

It took a bit of wandering, but we eventually we found the next group of dracaena. They were a little roughed up, and spread across the ground were bits of scrap metal. I kicked a piece over and stared at the head of a squirrel automaton, lying next to the copper hindleg off a rabbit. The new additions were still grumbling about demonic robot mammals as they joined us. Pushed off to the side were two empty sets of leather armor, remnants of dracaena that had fallen under an onslaught of bite-sized metal teeth.

I could feel the mood getting antsier the longer we spent travelling. The intervals between dracaena groups were completely inconsistent. Sometimes we'd meet multiple within minutes of each other, other times we'd walk an hour without seeing one. From the mutterings around me I learned the groups were out of order, too. Somewhere out there were dracaena waiting to direct a force that would never arrive, the fork they were guarding having shifted completely out of our path.

It was a wonder we were finding our way at all. With how the system was collapsing, we should've been hundreds of miles off course. But whenever we were really lost, the torches toward the front would change colors, glowing green in front of the best path to take.

"Is that what you meant by Hecate's torches being reliable?" I asked Luke after the third time.

"I wasn't made aware of quite all their functions." He looked slightly troubled. "But I'm sure she had her reasons. It makes sense, anyway. She is the goddess of crossroads after all."

I remembered the strange vision I'd seen from the torch, along with the woman's voice that had whispered to me. "She helped Demeter find Persephone, didn't she? She lights Persephone's way back from the underworld every year."

"She does," Luke said. "She's also in charge of The Mist, necromancy, and magic. Unpredictable, chaotic things, like her."

"You've met?"

"Just once."

The rest of the time we talked. Not about the fate of the world or what we were fighting for, but about inconsequential things. Jokes and stories. He described Annabeth's face when one of his brothers dropped a tarantula in her bed, then the beatdown she gave afterwards. He talked about capture the flag matches and how beautiful the sunsets were along the New York beach. I tried to paint some of the best views I'd seen out of the workshop's teleporting window. Good, lighthearted fun.

Talk stopped dead when we entered a tunnel of solid obsidian. The army had to file down to fit in the narrow passage, only enough width for three people standing shoulder to shoulder. Behind I could hear Laistrygonian's thumping their heads into the low ceiling. I hoped none of them dropped anything. I didn't trust anything of Dedalus's not to combust on impact, or the man not to go on a rampage if someone broke his stuff.

I traced a hand along the smooth volcanic rock. The air was heavy in a way that clued me in long before Luke said, "We're here."

We stepped outside on the peak of a familiar mountain I had never been to before.

Chilly wind blew over us. The view was almost identical to the one from my dream, where the scarred man had been chatting to his metal box. Even the menacing clouds were the same. But we were closer to the summit than my dream had been, which gave a view of something that made my stomach swirl.

Sheer cobblestone walls towered into the sky, ramparts lining the tops and arches scattered around the bottom. It was roughly two-thirds of the most intimidating castle I had ever seen- and I don't mean it was missing a few walls or anything. Instead every part was pockmarked with holes. Arches were only half there. Columns climbed to nothing. Mist coalesced around the incomplete bits, swirling as if working overtime to fill in the gaps.

Our army marched straight up to the front gate.

The guards were identical, and I had never seen anything quite like them. Their bodies were coated in hair thick and long enough to pass a job interview for sasquatch. I got a real good look at it, too, given they were wearing only denim pants. Wide nostrils sat at the end of extended snouts. Their toes looked closer to thumbs, and each was tipped with a crescent claw.

"Welcome Mount Orthrys," the one on the left said in a gruff, somewhat absent voice. "You identify you selves?"

The other snarled. "Identification? Identification!? Do you even see who's in front of you, dimwit? This is why you let me do the talking." He turned to address Luke, clasping his hands and lowering his head. "Terribly sorry, sir. You know how useless Oreius is. Go right through."

"But Agrius-"

"Shut it!" Agrius hissed from the side of his snout.

Luke passed with a smile, moving to the front of the group. "Glad to see you two are fitting into your new role well."

"Of course," Agrius said, his tone immediately pleasant again. The moment Luke was on the other side of him his lips curled back. I heard him say to his brother, "Once we're off-shift, you're deader than a rabbit." and then we were in the castle, and my brain forgot to work.

Pretty wasn't the right word. The courtyard was beautiful in a one-wrong-step-and-you're-dead kind of way. Speckled obsidian coated the ground. Every wall was seamless stone, except for the spots that looked under construction. There was no dust or dirt. Once complete, I imagined the sun would never touch the ground.

Doors stood at all four corners, each leading to a separate tower-like building, all at least a dozen stories. What looked like apartments dotted the walls, spiraling stairs and suspended walkways connecting them to the ground and each other. Dead ahead, so tall the top was lost in the clouds, was a skyscraper in distinctively Greek style. Unlike the other buildings it was one hundred percent black, and I don't mean obsidian. It didn't look real. The walls seemed made of shadows, rather than solid objects, and even the windows were stained dark.

"Okay everyone!" Luke shouted. "All of you except the giants are dismissed! Don't waste time, and make sure to rest up. I don't want you wasting energy with less than a week to go."

A cheer went up from the crowd. Either they were really happy to be out of the Labyrinth, or whatever event was coming up had them totally excited. I did notice one or two that looked nervous more than anything- specifically Victoria, the boy I'd seen her talking to earlier, and another boy standing next to them. I wanted to ask Luke just what was coming up, but he winked and mouthed 'tell you later'.

"What're you all still here for? Go on!"

Luke made a shooing gesture, and the group dispersed in every direction. Soon it was just us, the giants, and Dedalus standing alone in the courtyard.

"So," I said, "what's next? A bath? Seeing our new rooms?"

"I'll take Dedalus to get settled," Luke said. "We've got a room all set up for his stuff, just have to drop it off."

"And for me?" I asked.

"For you?" Luke grinned so wide I expected him to say 'We've got a Pizza party all set up!' or 'Actually you should check out the spa!' But he ruffled my hair and said, "You've got an appointment. The boss wants to meet you."

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Grandpa Feeds Me Cookies

I wasn't really an appointment guy. The closest I ever got were old Parent Teacher Conferences, and those all finished notices of expulsion. I tried to imagine the lord of time looking severely at me over a wooden desk, pulling down his spectacles as he delivered the bad news.

Shaking myself I asked, "Right now?"

Luke nodded. "Yep. He was pretty clear about it. I'll show you to the place."

I glanced at Dedalus. He didn't look particularly worried, which made me feel a bit better.

"Remember what I said about your being important?" he asked.

"A little hard to forget."

"This should just be to do with that. Nothing to worry about yet."

Fun fact about reassurances: they work better when the word 'yet' isn't tacked on at the end.

The main building's interior started off about how you would expect: marble flooring and a grand arched ceiling with constellations painted across it. There was a welcoming desk, but it stood empty. A Drakon could've curled up for a nap inside the room, yet it was deserted save for us. By the time we reached the exit, I was relieved to leave the eerily-still atmosphere behind… for all of three seconds.

Furry carpet. Familiar beige walls. Looking around the hallway, it felt as if someone had grabbed my heart with two hands and squeezed. I had seen it all before so, so many times. Not for years, but the memories were still fresh and probably always would be. "This is…"

Luke nodded. "The interior looks different for everyone. Whatever you think of in your heart as home, it mimics. That's its way of telling you you're where you're meant to be now. For good."

So that was it. Looking left and right, I couldn't fight a frown. The carpet and wallpaper weren't why my old Manhattan apartment meant home to me. What I really missed couldn't be replicated with magic or interior decorating.

"What does it look like to you?" I asked to distract myself.

"Are you willing to tell me yours?" Luke asked.

I kept silent.

"There you go," he said, chuckling.

Someone stepped on my heel and I stumbled. Looking back I found Dedalus with his mouth open and his eyes unfocused, walking like a zombie.

"You okay?" I asked him.

It was like my voice yanked a bag from off his head. He blinked a few times, took a shaky breath, and then his expression was normal.

"Just a reminder of something I preferred buried." He looked at his surroundings, one step off glaring. "Out of curiosity, is there any way of changing what one sees?"

"Not that I know of," Luke said. "Although I never tried too hard to find out."

"Wonderful."

There were dozens of closed doors along the way. A few weren't complete, and I peaked through a gap in one. On the other side was a void, like a night sky without even stars. I leaned back and didn't try again, feeling very small and cold.

Eventually we came to an elevator at a spot where two paths branched. It looked totally out of place wedged into the apartment style walling, and I hoped we would walk straight past since it was kind of weirding me out. No luck. Luke stopped right in front and faced us.

"The workshop is this way." He pointed to the right, at a hallway identical to the one we'd arrived from.

"And where am I going?" I asked with a sinking feeling.

Luke wrapped his knuckles on the steel doors. "Straight up in this. Top floor, you can't miss it."

I must've looked pretty nervous, because he reached over and gave my arm a squeeze. "I'll be right outside when you're done. I've done it a bunch of times- you'll probably come out with all your appendages attached."

If the joke was meant to help me relax, it was in bad taste. At least I hoped it was a joke. I took a deep breath and pressed the up arrow. The button glowed green, and the doors slid open with annoying promptness. I walked inside.

There were spaces for twenty buttons. Only about eleven were there, the other nine just empty gaps. Incomplete was a really bad quality in something that was about to take you hundreds of feet into the air, but I swallowed and pressed the button for twenty. It dinged, and the doors started to close.

I managed a smile. "Well, see you guys soon." The doors shut, and I added, "Hopefully."

I've been on cab rides shorter than that elevator trip. Classical music played the whole way, the kind you only ever saw ninety-year-old men listening to. My foot tapped nervously as the digital display above the door ticked slowly up- 2, error, 4, 5, error, 6, error, error.

It gave me a lot of time to think. I wasn't a fan of thinking. Not only was I bad at it, it had a way of letting me realize just how screwed up my life was. I wondered what Kronos would be like, why he wanted to talk to me. Maybe…

Victoria had covered for me, for some reason, but was that really enough to fool a titan? Maybe he already knew I'd spared the kallikantzaroi, and this was all to give me some horrible punishment, like forcing me to memorize the quadratic formula.

I shook my head, forcing myself to calm down. That couldn't be it. Luke's orders had been too old. Besides, maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Coeus hadn't been too scary. Sure I always felt one move away from ending up a popsicle, but at least he had a cute polar bear face and stopped Kelli from slicing me up like lunchmeat.

I was jarred from my thoughts by a resolute ding! The monitor read 20. With a hiss, the doors opened.

The room on the other side wasn't anything like my old apartment. It had a hardwood floor and white walls, and the air smelled faintly of mint. Benches lined the edges. Opposite the elevator stood imposing cream-colored double doors. Stanchions led up to them like the security line at an airport, turning back and forth to accommodate long lines.

To my right, just outside the elevator, was a ticket dispenser. A bit of paper was sticking out of the base, and I pulled it free. It read EIGHTEEN in sharp, angular letters.

I walked through the switchbacks, my footsteps echoing in the empty room.

At the end of the stanchions was another machine and a thick line painted across the floor with the words Do Not Cross.

"Guest number eighteen!" A woman's voice boomed, sending my stomach to say hello to my throat. I looked around but couldn't spot any sort of speakers. "Will guest number eighteen please insert their ticket!"

My heart beating wildly, I fed the ticket into top of the machine. It whirred and clinked before eventually spitting a new paper out of the base. Pulling it free, I found a cartoon illustration of a winking dracaena next to the words You have earned the right for an audience. You may now die with no regrets!

I swallowed. Before I could get cold feet, the double doors slammed open and something like a tractor beam sucked me inside.

Having my eyes open or closed made no difference, everything was black either way. I couldn't feel a floor underneath me. I was like a satellite floating in space- weightless, moving, and completely incapable of changing direction.

Because I was moving. Forward, specifically. There was no way of telling how fast, but I could feel the air washing over my face and rippling my clothes. It might've been fun if I wasn't worrying whether it was the last thing I'd ever feel.

"You're here. Wonderful."

The voice came from every direction, so deep it vibrated my fingernails in place. I tried to respond but the noise was lost behind me, torn away by the wind and carried off to who knows where.

"I admit this is exciting," said the voice. "I am supremely patient, but in recent times, as things draw near enough to taste… Well, I find emotions getting the better of me. Seeing you here makes it feel all the closer.

I tried to speak again and failed the same way, but this time the voice noticed.

"Ah! My manners are absent, this is no way to hold a conversation. Here."

The sound of a snap thumped my eardrums and everything changed.

The wind was gone. The darkness, too. I was sat in a red recliner, a coffee table in front of me covered with platters of more cookie types than I knew existed. The room was square with blank walls, a smaller version of the waiting room I had passed through.

Across from me, on the other side of the table, was the figure of a man. He was perfectly three-dimensional and even had a cup of tea in his hands, but there were no features on his face. Not even a nose or a mouth. It was like someone had drawn the outline of a person, then forgotten to fill them in.

"I know this form isn't the most hospitable," the figure said in the same deep voice I'd heard before. "It's unfortunate, but options are limited when your body is chopped up and scattered. Even this much is an improvement."

"You're Kronos," I said.

"Just getting that, are you? Perhaps not the brightest dagger in the arsenal then, but that isn't what we need you for." Kronos took a sip from his cup, which was a neat trick with no mouth. "I do not wish for you to feel ill at ease. Go on, take a cookie."

I grabbed a sugar cookie with yellow icing dribbled over it, but couldn't bring myself to take a bite. Persephone's myth flashed through my head, how her stomach got her stuck in the underworld. Eating could be dangerous business.

"It's nothing so nefarious. I'm not looking to entrap you."

I jumped. "How did you…"

"Know what was on your mind?" Kronos cocked his blank head. "I know a lot of things. How to rule. How to paint. How to read body language and guess at one's thoughts."

"But not how to read minds?" I checked.

"No, not that. Not for now." He set his cup on the table, leaning forward. "Why? You wouldn't have something to hide, would you?"

"I mean, doesn't everyone?" Then, to help appease him, I took a bite of the cookie. It was good. Tangy.

Kronos chuckled. "True enough. No being alive wants all of themselves exposed to the light. Not mortals, nor titans, and especially not the gods. What do you know of them, Percy? Of the Olympus's buried secrets?"

"Some," I said, thinking of Dedalus's screwed up life. Then there was mine, Thalia's, Luke's, the Phonoi… "Scratch that. Quite a bit."

Kronos nodded, humming. "I assume you're thinking of the attempts on your life. Maybe the killing of your latest teacher, even?" I fought to keep a poker face. We already knew they were keeping track of you, I reminded myself.

"What if I told you that was but the iceberg's barest tip?"

Kronos breathed in deeply, though I could only tell from the noise and a slight swelling of his torso. Then he exhaled, and a massive gust blew the room away, the walls fading like smoke. All that stuck around were our chairs and the table of cookies.

We were outside. To the left the ground fell sharply away along the bank of a rushing river. Songbirds sung, and the sun was low and near on the horizon. The smell reminded me of camping trips, but more extreme, like someone had distilled all the aromas of the woods just to inject them into my nostrils.

"Quite beautiful, no?" Kronos glanced at the surroundings. "Believe it or not, the entire world resembled this before mortals left their stain. That is a separate tale, though, best saved for another day. Look! Our actors are arriving."

From around a bend in the river came a woman. She looked about twenty-four, with cascading blond hair framing a gorgeous heart-shaped face. She was holding up the bottom of her dress to run… right along the surface of the water. Her footsteps made little splashes, but she didn't sink.

Her legs weren't moving all that quickly and yet each bound could've covered a basketball court. Still, I could tell she was tired. Her hair was matted with sweat and her dress clung tight at the shoulders. She was panting, and when she pulled level with us she stopped, laying her hands on her knees.

"Daphne," Kronos said, eying the exhausted girl fondly. "One of the most beautiful women in Greece at one time."

"A naiad," I said, not totally sure how I knew that.

"Indeed. Her mother was Creussa, another nymph. And her father…"

In front of Daphne the water's surface rippled. It began to shine and bubble. A man rose from it as if standing on an elevating platform.

He was all white hair and muscle, like a mall Santa that spent the offseason pumping iron. His biceps were the size of my torso, his legs like cannon barrels, and he looked angry.

"Who!" he bellowed, his loincloth fluttering in the wind. "Who dares make daddy's little girl cry!"

He looked around, flexing aggressively. I was glad they couldn't see us. A headlock from him would've popped my skull like a water balloon.

"And here is Peneus," Kronos said. "No jokes, please. That name is far older than the word. He truly loved his daughter, which only made the tragedy worse."

That didn't sound good. As I watched, Daphne continued to cry.

"He's coming," she choked out. "He's still there! He won't stop!"

Peneus looked torn between going on a rampage and wrapping his daughter in his arms. "Who? Just say the word, and they'll never see it coming!" He gave the air a series of quick jabs. "One! One two! Just like that!"

"You can't!" Daphne pulled up her head, and her golden locks shown so brightly in the sun that I nearly looked away. "Whatever you do, don't fight him. Promise me that!"

"What!" bellowed Peneus. "How could I-"

"Just Promise! Please!"

Peneus looked away, grinding his teeth. "Fine. I promise it."

Daphne sagged, sighing in relief. Meanwhile her father was only getting antsier. He, like me, couldn't seem to figure out what was going on, and it was making his pecs twitch.

"My daughter comes running to me, all shook up," he started, "but she's begging me not to touch the twerp that did it. Don't… Don't tell me… Do you love this guy?"

"No!" A shutter shook Daphne, as if she were about to vomit. "That's not it at all!"

"Then what? C'mon, there's got to be something you'll let daddy do. Anything."

"Yes! Some way to-"

"Daaaaphne!" called a voice in the not-so-distant distance. I tried to look and nearly went blind.

I said before that the sun was on the horizon. That wasn't quite right. The reason it had looked so low, the reason Daphne's hair was glowing so brightly, was a man. A man shooting through the air like superman, glowing like a lightbulb. Trailing behind him were banners, all with Daphne's name and varying amounts of red hearts scribbled on them.

"Quick!" Daphne said fearfully. "There is no time! I must escape, anyway you can offer."

Peneus was staring at the sky like he was having second thoughts on his promise. But when he spoke his voice sounded less fiery, much grimmer. "There are not many ways of placing one beyond the reach of an Olympian. Those I've access to are not the happiest."

"I do not care!" Daphne insisted.

"Hellllooooooo!" cried lightbulb man. He skidded to a stop in the air with a boom. "My lovely, my dearest blossom, your beloved has arrived!"

I could see him better now, the light having faded when he stopped moving. His hair was hay yellow. He wore a white toga decorated with drawings of a certain blond naiad. Draped banners hung from his shoulders like the world's creepiest most obsessive capes, and his perfect teeth glinted with the force of a flash bomb.

"Apollo," Kronos said. "God of music, archery, poetry, healing, the arts… so many beautiful things. Such a being should surely mimic his domain. Tell me, Perseus Jackson, is he beautiful to you?"

I stared at the god. His ideal cheekbones were contorted to form a manic smile. His plump lips dribbled with saliva. Eyes watched unblinkingly, the color of liquid coolant.

"No," I said. "He's good looking and all, but… vulgar."

"Exactly." Kronos nodded vigorously. "Tear away the gods' masks, and what is left but the ugly."

I hummed, focused on watching things unfold. With Apollo's arrival Daphne had turned to her father with renewed desperation.

"Do it now!" she cried.

Peneus hesitated. His fingers grasped at the air, unsure what to do. Apollo yipped like a coyote and prepared to dive bomb.

"You said you would do anything!"

"But-"

"Daddy you liar!"

Apollo howled and fired toward Daphne, puckered up. She looked over her shoulder and shrieked, cowering behind her arms. The distance between them shrunk- thirty feet, twenty, ten…

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" Peneus screamed, jerking his arms into the air. Daphne floated up and Apollo crashed into the water, smooching a passing fish.

As she levitated toward the riverbank Daphne grew taller and thinner. Her hair lumped together and thickened, turning from golden to green. Her skin darkened. Both legs fused and covered over with a hard exterior. By the time she touched down, the naiad had become a fully-grown laurel.

"Is fathers turning their daughters into a tree like a thing, or something?" I asked.

"Pardon?" Kronos said.

"Never mind."

Apollo came up for air, spat out water like a fountain, and looked left and right. "Where'd she go?"

"Figure it out yourself," Peneus growled. I got the feeling he was holding back from saying a whole lot worse. He dispersed into a cloud of bubbles and sunk back into the water, glaring at Apollo the whole time.

For his part the sun god waded out of the stream looking confused. He stood a minute on the riverbank, rubbing his chin. Finally his eyes landed on the fresh laurel tree, and I saw a spark in them.

He held his hands out wide as if preparing to shrug, and the scene froze. Kronos had hit the pause button.

"Do you see?" he asked. "This is a tale of Olympus. He told others of the affair, willingly, bragging of the time he harassed a maiden to her final resort." There was passion in his voice. I found myself sitting up straighter, just from the sound of it.

"What was it you said? Something near to 'He ate his children, did he not?'"

I jolted, but Kronos only chuckled. "Yes, my ears are quite good. A millennia in the dark will do that. And you were correct- I am not good."

"You're… not?" It wasn't that I struggled to believe it, but I never expected to hear it straight from his mouth.

"Of course. I did eat my children. I would do so again in the same situation. But do you know what separates me from the gods? There are two things. One, I make no secret of who I am. I do not sit upon a throne of gold, preaching benevolence while practicing whatever I please. I admit it, freely, before I do as I please. Second, and much more important for you, is that I pay my debts."

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table between us. Just for a second, two eyes flashed in his blank sockets- golden, bottomless, older than I could fathom.

"What is it you wish for? Wealth? Power? A world that doesn't create children like you?" He lowered his voice. "There will be much chaos when we assume control of the world, enough that a soul or two could even slip from the Underworld unnoticed. See me restored to my throne, and all of it is yours."

I swallowed. That was a pretty hard insinuation to miss. "Why?" I asked. "Why so much? Why to me?"

He tilted his head. "Because you are important, for one reason if not another. I prefer important pieces on my side of the board. I find they prefer it too, eventually."

"But why am I an important piece? I know my dad's powerful and all, but you probably have tons of monsters as dangerous as me in a fight. What is it about me that you want so badly?"

Maybe it was a bad idea to push him when he was being so accommodating, but I had to know. Dedalus said the Big Three stopped having half-bloods because they altered history too much. That they were too powerful. Then he told me Kronos wouldn't kill me, and Luke said the same. It didn't add up.

Surely I wasn't that powerful. So what was it?

Kronos was silent for a time. I gripped the armrests on my recliner, hoping I wasn't about to be immolated for impertinence.

"You sell yourself short," he finally said. "Your interactions with demigods are too limited. Once you integrate with our forces you will understand. You know only three of your kind, and two of them are exceptional. The competition will show you what you are missing."

"The competition?"

Kronos leaned back, waving his hand dismissively. "Luke will give you the details, to explain it would be a waste of our limited time. Instead, I wish to hear it from your mouth. I tell you that you are valuable, so be sure that you are. No more questions. Do you swear to support my cause?"

There was something he was holding back, and I didn't just mean the details on whatever this 'competition' was. But I was lucky to have gotten away with as much as I had, so I let it drop.

Which left the question of what to say. Dedalus was the one the Titans had convinced with their recruitment pitch. Up until this moment, I had just been along for the ride. Sure hitting the gods where it hurts sounded pretty neat, but neat enough to swear myself to a cause I barely knew anything about?

Luke believed in Kronos, but I found that didn't mean as much to me as it would have at one point. Dedalus believed in their promises, but with how desperately he wanted what they were offering, I didn't quite trust his judgement this time around. Which left, I guess, what I thought.

Kronos was offering a chance to get my mom back. There was a real chance he was lying, or at least exaggerating – his offer still sounded too sweet – but then again, since when did that matter?

There was a chance what he said was true. That was more than I'd had for years.

"I'll do it," I said.

"Ah ah ah. That wasn't what I asked." He laced his fingers and rested his chin on them. "The words from your mouth."

"I'll help you," I said, more firmly this time. "I'll fight the gods."

"Perfect."

At just the moment of my oath a mouth flashed into place on his barren face, grinning from cheek to cheek. Like my words had given shape to the feature. Hairline fractures spread across the images of Apollo and the forest, culminating in their shattering. They gave way to the same darkness from the start, except now the wind was reversed and even stronger, gusting against my back.

"Goodbye for now, Perseus Jackson. I pray your uses will be many and indispensable."

I heard the sound of doors opening behind me before I was spit out into a backwards somersault, coming to a stop flat on my back.

Luke's face appeared, coming between me and the waiting room's plaster ceiling. "It's a fun trip, huh?"

I blinked. "Does the landing ever get softer?"

"You get more used to it."

That wasn't a yes. He walked to the other side of me and held out his hand. "C'mon. Up and at 'em, soldier."

I took his hand, rubbing the back of my head.

"Don't look so glum!" Luke wrapped his arm around me and steered us toward the elevator. "You just left an audience with the Lord of Time. Alive! How many people can say that?"

"You, for one," I said.

"Exactly why it's so exciting. Don't you want to grow up just like me?"

"Not really."

"Aw, I'm hurt!" He laid a hand over his chest, leaning in with a smirk. "And after I went to the trouble of getting you the best tour guide I could."

I glanced at him worriedly. "What did you do?"

We entered the elevator, and he looked proud as could be. "You'll see. Just never say I don't do anything for you."

I pressed the button for 1 glumly. "That's what scares me, though. The things you'd do for me."

The doors shut, obscuring the waiting room from sight. It should've been a relief, but instead my conversation with Kronos was stuck playing in my ears.

And, more unpleasantly, Daphne's frightened face in her last non-tree moments.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

A Fun Day of Lava and Blackmail

My new bedroom had a great view for a room with no windows.

The bed was one of those fancy curtained ones, the kind Cinderella would sleep on during her happily ever after, except the cloth was jet black. It was also long. Fully stretched, I didn't even make it halfway to the footboard. Aside from the bed, the room didn't have a speck of furniture.

What it did have was a transparent wall. It had looked a little like the building's hazy exterior until Luke poked it a few times, muttered something I didn't catch in Ancient Greek, and the wall went as clear as mountain air. I asked how he did it, and Luke said "Magic."

I chucked a pillow at him, and he ducked out of the room.

It took ages to comfortable in the bed, despite slipping under the covers as soon as I was alone. It was soft don't get me wrong, but the proportions were totally off. I felt like a child sleeping in his parents' bed.

I tossed and turned and must've eventually dozed off, because the sound of knocking woke me up. I sat rubbing my eyes. The sun was rising through the transparent wall. Way down on the bay bobbed white dots, a few early-rising sailboats.

The knocking came again, more insistent, and I stumbled out of bed and pulled a glove over my left hand.

"Who is it?" I said, fighting a yawn as I pulled the door open.

On the other side, looking a lot more put together than I was, was Victoria.

"Ready to go?" Her eyes drifted from my bedhead to my rumpled shirt, and she pursed her lips.

"Go? Sorry, go where?"

"The tour," she said, like I was talking nonsense. "Don't tell me you forgot?"

I tried not to get too irritated. It would've been easier even half an hour later, though. "I didn't forget. See, forget implies I was told in the first place. I'm telling you now, I wasn't."

"You definitely were. There's no way he would've forgotten. He isn't like that."

She looked strangely defensive, her hands on her hips. I was tempted to shut the door in her face and head back to bed. It wouldn't have been the best impression to make my first day as a Kronos crony… but then neither was barging over to my room being prissy.

Then Luke's words from the night before filtered back to me. After I went to the trouble of getting you the best tour guide I could. Together with his ribbing about my supposed crush, things suddenly made a whole lot more sense.

I groaned, thumping my head into the doorframe. "Oh, he didn't."

"Didn't? Didn't what?"

I sighed. "He totally did. Give me five minutes."

The last thing I saw before shutting the door was a confused face.

Five minutes later, with my hair (sort of) brushed, my teeth clean, and my clothes on properly, I stepped into the hallway.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Victoria was waiting against the wall, looking torn between curiosity and annoyance. She started down the hallway, and I figured I was meant to follow.

We passed all types of monsters- some familiar, some I'd never seen in my life. Two ants scuttled past at knee height, both furry like dogs. Even weirder was a man in a speedo with earlobes that hung all the way to his ankles. He nodded to us, and the motion sent ripples through the floppy skin. I nodded back.

"Hey, so…" I started once the strange man was gone. "About what you saw in the Labyrinth-"

"What?"

"With the kallikantzaroi, how they were-"

"What?" She repeated more firmly, and I took the hint. Not here. There were too many – and overly impressive – ears around. I stuck to small talk.

"Aren't you supposed to, like, talk me through what we're passing?

Victoria glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Why?"

"Isn't that what a tour guide does?" I pointed to a door, complete and of course, shut. "What's on the other side of that?"

"No idea."

"What about that one?" I pointed at another down the hall.

"Beats me."

"Wow," I said, "You're not very good at this guide thing, are you?"

"Of course not!" She scowled. "I wouldn't even have to be except-"

"Except what?"

"Except he asked," she grumbled. "Anyway, I'm taking you to the forges. That's the closest place that actually matters. Just sit tight until we get there."

"Great." We walked a minute in silence. "Just out of curiosity, is there any reason I would ever need the forges?"

"You're with that inventor, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. But I don't actually do any making. Mostly stabbing. Some slashing, too."

"Good for you," she said. "We'll go by the training room later. But Luke told me to show you around, and I mean to do it. Every place I've got access to."

I blinked at the pride in her voice. "Luke asked you personally, huh?"

"Of course," she said challengingly. We reached a flight of double stairs branching off left, and turned onto them heading down. "He's the one who convinced me to join up. We're acquaintances."

I got the feeling she was trying to convince herself as much as me.

"This isn't your usual job?" I guessed.

"No." She puffed up. "But he told me the job was important, and that only I could do it. I wasn't going to shy away. I heard… I heard that you knew him before."

We'd already gone down four flights of stairs, and as we turned onto the fifth I saw the exit- double doors made of smelted iron, thick enough to stop a car.

"Yeah," I said. "I traveled with him years ago. Us, and two others. Before he ever made it to camp."

"What was that like?"

"Dirty," I said. "Lots of sleeping on the ground and eating questionable canned food."

"No, no, I mean what was he like," Victoria turned to me. "When did he like to go to bed? What color were his clothes? What time of day did he shower? Do you think he would shower with me-"

Thunk! I winced as she rebounded off the door, her head bouncing back hard enough to roll her eyes in their sockets.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat and tapped her attacker with a fingernail. "This is a door."

"Got it," I said.

A truly dedicated guide.

The stairwell, like every other room I'd been to, was a cool fifty-five degrees. Chilly, but not enough to get really uncomfortable. Because I'd grown used to that, I was caught completely off-guard when Victoria opened the door.

Heat blasted my skin. The hairs on my arms stood up straight, and sweat immediately beaded down my back. I was so surprised I forgot to walk, until Victoria grabbed my wrist and pulled me quickly inside, shutting the doors behind us.

"If you let the heat escape they get horribly whiny," she explained. "Which is silly, because I'm pretty sure the forge is magic anyway."

We were in a hallway that wouldn't have been narrow, except it was lined with wracks all across walls and the ceiling. Swords, axes, spears, garden hoes, even a metal mask in the shape of a frowning monkey… if you could make it from metal it was there.

"And who is 'they'?" I asked, reaching out to touch a shield painted the colors of the Hungarian flag.

"The creatures that are about to pop out and yell at you if you touch their toy," Victoria said. "Telekhines."

My fingertips brushed the paint, and something barked.

"The bloody hell are you doing to my coat, runt?" a voice said in a thick Scottish accent.

I pulled back, facing the end of the corridor. A figure was framed there, the orange glow from the next room leaving him a silhouette.

He looked like a beginner's attempt at a shadow puppet. His feet were flat-topped and half-flipper. His torso was shaped like a barrel. Sprouting from his sides were meaty arms, human hands clenched into fists at his hips. Dog ears stood up straight on his muzzled head.

"Uh, hi." I pointed to the shield. "Sorry about that. I was just checking it out."

"Just checking it out, he says. Oh, sorry then, I should really let you go and RUIN MY WORK, THEN!" He jerked his head to the side and spat. The saliva sizzled on impact.

"Calm down, Chief," Victoria said softly. "He didn't mean anything by it. He's new."

The Telekhine pointed his button nose to the ceiling. "So that makes it all better, doesn't it? Bah, just hurry in. My forge is going cold while I waste around yapping at you."

He spun and padded into the room beyond. Victoria leaned over and whispered, "He's the one in charge. All the important projects run through him, and he's a bit touchy. Everyone calls him Chief."

"What's his actual name?"

She shrugged. "That's it, far as I know. Just try not to piss him off. You will, knowing his temper, but at least try not to."

The hallway had been hot, but the workroom was on another level. Stepping inside was like being suspended over an active volcano… which was a pretty literal comparison, considering a third of the room was covered in lava.

In the center a massive contraption recycled the molten rock through a series of basins, letting it pool before piping it into a spout that started the whole process over again. Telekhines of assorted sizes worked away, shoving their hands into the pools without even gloves for protection. Deeper into the room, pressed against the soot-stained walls, stood an array of anvils with yet more Telekhines hammering on bits of glowing metal, sending sparks into the air. There were no windows, underground as we were, and a layer of smoke stuck around the ceiling, making every breath feel heavy. All in all, I was ready to turn and walk straight back out, but Victoria led me toward Chief and I was forced to follow.

"Rare to see you down here, Victoria," Chief said. As he talked he shoved his hand into a pool and pulled a hunk of molten metal out, beginning to mold it absently. "Last time would've been when you came looking for a deal. Still sorry about that, lass. I like you, but Boss's orders and all…"

"I know," Victoria said quickly. "It's not your fault, no hard feelings. All in the past. I'm just here to show the new guy around."

"New guy, eh?"

Chief gave me a once over. His face reminded me of a Doberman, the mean kind that barks murder at you from behind a cast iron fence as you walk by. "They sure are letting just anybody join up these days."

"Is this cause I touched your shield?" I asked.

"Maybe it's your stupid questions."

"Can't be, since that was the first question I've asked-"

"Then maybe it's your ugly face, then," he growled. His fingers squished the metal into a shape that looked suspiciously like a middle finger.

Victoria winced and shot me a look that said cool it. I would've listened – honestly! – but just then something about the Telekhine's appearance clicked for me.

"You're part seal!" I blurted out.

"I'm as old as seals as a species," he said. "Might as well say they are part me."

"But, like, shouldn't you love me or something then?" My interactions with sea creatures were pretty limited, but even as a kid all the fish I'd met treated me like a rockstar. Dedalus said it would be the same with Hippocampi, and other aquatic monsters along with them.

Chief's eyes narrowed. "I think I'm missing a step here. That, or you're missing a screw up there."

"Well, Poseidon's my dad."

"Poseidon!" Chief's hands clenched, crushing his sculpture flat. "That upstart! Oh, I can believe you're his son. You've got that same presumptuous attitude, assuming he's all that just cause he does a bit of ruling the sea with his fancy trident. Who do you made that trident for him?"

"Actually, I really don't like him much either-"

"Good then!" He stepped so close that his snout rubbed the tips of my hair. "You've got plenty of company. Not everything beneath the waves bows to that young'un. Some of us remember the days when he was nothing more than his daddy's horderve, and you'd best be remembering that."

I swallowed. I hadn't realized just how tall the Telekhine was until he was right in my face, angry. His breath was terrible, too. I knew canned dog food when I smelled it.

"Got it," I told him. "So if you want to step back and take a breath or something, feel free. I'm sure we could find something in here for you to use as a bone. That always helps my dog calm down."

"I could always use one of yours," he muttered, but he did back off. He tossed his metal back into the basin, where it landed with a splash. A few drops spilled out, and Victoria scrambled to stand further away.

"Right then," Chief said. "If you're Poseidon's brat, let's get to this. Hold out your arms."

"How about no? Whatever form of torture you're about to propose, I'm good."

"Just do it," Victoria said.

"He won't kill me?"

"No."

"Maiming?"

"No," she said again, but she hesitated.

"See?" I pointed at Chief. "You're planning something horrible for me. I know it."

He had reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a tape measure. It looked straight from the shelf at Home Depot, but when he pulled the tape out the markings were in Ancient Greek. "Don't be a baby now. I'm just measuring your wingspan."

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

He grinned. "Orders from Kronos himself. So get those arms out, Backup Plan."

Unfortunately, I doubted he was joking about the orders. Using Kronos's name and lying right under his nose was a good way of signing your own death warrant. I held out my arms.

While Chief noted the dimensions of my forearm, he asked questions:

"Sword fighting hand?"

"My right."

"Any double joints?"

"I hope not."

"How far can your wrist turn?"

"…Until it breaks?"

Chief slapped a flipper-foot against the floor. "Be serious lad."

"I don't know," I said. "A broken wrist sounds pretty serious to me."

"We could always test that," he growled, pulling away from my triceps and scribbling whatever he'd found in a leather book. "Right then." He looked up. "Off with the glove then."

I sighed and pulled off my glove. Chief didn't react at all, but Victoria jumped at the sight of the bronze hand.

Chief felt first at my wrist, then the elbow. "Such seamless joints. And the movement range… so natural! The flexibility is fantastic." He paused to look at me. "And you can move it like nothing, correct? No awkwardness?"

"Like a normal arm," I confirmed.

Chief, I kid you not, squealed. If he hadn't been holding my arm in place I would've covered my ears. "To be able to distribute the animus like this- no, to even think of using bronze as the conduit… How exciting."

I coughed, the smokey air starting to get to me. "Is there anything else, or are we free to leave? Because I'm not too hot on being, well, hot."

"Too bad such lovely work is stuck on a brat like you," Chief said grouchily. "Go on! Make yourself scarce. You're just distracting the workers at this point."

That was a lie, since not one of them had looked up. If they'd had tails to match their faces, those tails would've been wagging as they shaped their metal like it was the most valuable substance on earth. Still, I wasn't going to pass up a chance to escape.

"Nice meeting you, kind of," I told Chief.

He'd already turned to the lava pools. "Get out of my forge."

I shrugged and did as asked. Victoria said, "Bye Chief," then stuck to my heels.

"Well," she said once we were back out on the stairwell. "That went well."

"Is that sarcasm?"

She smiled and rubbed a hand against the banister. "The last demigod that visited got his head shoved into a lava pool. Son of Hephaestus, luckily, so his face didn't end up melted, but I hear the sore throat was brutal."

She looked so satisfied I couldn't help asking, "Not a big fan of the guy, huh?"

"He should've known better than to march up to the Telekhines and 'inform' them of everything they were doing wrong. Plus he joined the Gold Regiment, so he had it coming."

"Gold Regiment?"

Her smile disappeared, replaced by a sour look. "You'll find out soon enough. They're all anyone wants to talk about, after all."

For the next few hours we stuck our heads into every major room around Mt. Orthrys. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised me so much, but the fortress was practically an entire town.

There was lounge with the most structurally reinforced couches I had ever seen, two Dracaena playing a game of 2K on an X-Box in the corner. Outdoors was a stable stocked with Pegasi, though from what I heard they didn't sound so happy to be there. I knew from Dedalus's lessons that I could understand horses, I just didn't expect the first words I'd hear to be so… colorful. The poor demigod tending them nearly had his nose kicked in when he tried to greet us. We left him to his job before our distraction got him seriously hurt.

Lookout towers, a small medical station, a gift shop selling Titan Army t-shirts and Zeus Stinks key chains. Public restrooms large enough for a giant, private guest quarters, even a fully stocked bowling alley with its own snack bar. At times I couldn't tell if I was in a military stronghold or a cruise ship. The number of rooms and corridors had my head spinning like a merry-go-round, and eventually Victoria must've noticed.

"Let's go by the training room," she said. "If you're the type I think you are, that should help you relax. Your element or whatever."

I wasn't going to argue. Hacking through a training dummy or two sounded like a fantastic distraction from all the details I'd been trying to cram into my brain.

We went down some stairs, through a room where half of a humanoid statue was under construction, and down a lengthy hallway before reaching a door guarded on each side by a giant. Victoria led me inside without the sentries so much as glancing at us.

Inside curved walls formed a large, spherical room. Grunts and the sounds of chopping kept it from being quiet, the noise of about fifteen demigods working away on straw practice dummies. Sitting unoccupied at the room's center were four circles of sand, making the room smell not only like sweat but also like dust. A few of the kids looked up as we entered, but quickly returned to what they'd been doing.

"Here we are," Victoria said. She glanced around uneasily. "Pick any dummies you want, just try not to get in anyone's way. And keep it to one or two- I don't want to be here all day."

There was a rack of weapons next to the door, but glancing over it either nobody cared much about them or there wasn't anybody that knew basic weapon maintenance. The blades were dull, and the handles worn. I gave one a few swings. Even the balance was off. "Can I use my own?"

"There's no rule against it. But I'm not waiting for you to run back to your room and grab it."

I drew Aelia. "Don't worry about that."

Anfisa formed with the telltale whirring of gears. I flicked it left and right, ignoring Victoria's start at the weapon's appearance, and homed in on a trio of dummies in an unused corner.

There were three of them, two side-by-side and another just behind. Their wooden arms held grey pool noodles positioned like swords. I stepped to the right one and sliced into its midsection.

My blade made it halfway to a clean bisection, but I didn't stop. Spinning, I brought Anfisa against the left one's neck. The blade passed clean through, the head bouncing away with a puff of hay, and I finished the motion by slicing into the other first dummy's side, completing the first cut from the opposite side. Before the bisected dummy had settled on the ground, I leveled the point of my blade at the final dummy and stabbed smoothly through its chest.

Breathing slightly heavily, I couldn't keep a smile off my face. In that moment it didn't matter one bit that I couldn't remember what floor my room was on, or whether it was a right or left turn at the game room to get there. All that mattered was the sword in my hand, and I knew exactly what to do with that.

The clapping wasn't something I expected.

I turned and found a boy in front of the door, grinning at me. He had a pinched face, not bad looking but sort of like a giant had grabbed his cheeks and squeezed. His nose was pointy and his eyes gleamed. He was definitely older than me, but the top of his head only came to about my nose. Despite that, he stood like he was the biggest in the room, which may've had something to do with the two huge demigods flanking him in matching gold shirts, one male and one female.

"You're good," he said. "Really good! I especially liked the last bit. Right in the throat."

"Thanks," I said. Something about the guy was familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on what.

"Of course, it's to be expected," he carried on. "You're with Luke Castellan, right? I wouldn't be surprised if he invited you himself. You guys looked close enough for it on the trip here."

He approached and held out his hand. "Justin Petty. Great to meet you for real."

"Percy," I said, taking the hand. "Hey have we met?"

For a second his smile wavered. Then it was back as firm as ever. "That was a good one man. You really had me going, for a second. Remember in the Labyrinth?"

I wracked my brain, thinking back to every demigod from the moving group. He hadn't been one of the ones fighting, so which … "Oh! Torch guy!"

Somewhere behind me Victoria snickered. Justin's smile got a little bit tighter.

"Yep, you got it," he said. "Can't say I've been called that one before, though. Usually it's sir, or at least Justin." He looked again at the dummy remnants, his eyes flitting down the length of my sword. "I'll look past that though. You know, with your skills you could really make something of yourself. Given any thought on which regiment to join?"

Victoria had used that word, too, as we were leaving the forge. "What's a regiment?"

Justin's head shifted in a way that had blond curls dusting over his eyes. "Gods, I thought you would've been told that much at least! What on earth are we doing as an organization?" He looked past me at Victoria. "I mean, I know you got saddled with a useless guide, but I thought Luke at least would've told you."

"Luke doesn't make decisions off what you think," Victoria snapped. "Lucky for us all."

"And you base all your decisions because of him," Justin said. "Look where that's gotten you, relegated to a docent. Your mother must be so proud to see her daughter stuck as a loser."

"At least she sees me," Victoria shot back. "I doubt your dad even knows you exist."

Justin didn't lose his cool. Instead he turned to me as if Victoria didn't exist. "Ignore that idiot. If she's not going to do her job, I'll do it for her. The regiments, my dear man, are how us demigods in the Titan Army are organized. There's three of them- The Gold Regiment, that houses elite warriors-" Victoria snorted "-who carry out the most difficult and crucial tasks. Then here's the Iron Regiment. Hardy, and competent enough, but how should I say… lacking that x-factor, if you understand. And finally, you have the Bronze Regiment. Home of weirdos, oddballs, and dregs that no one else would willingly put up with." He laid a hand over his chest and bowed. "I count myself lucky enough to lead the Gold Regiment, and that girl glaring murder at me over your shoulder, commands the Bronze."

That explained the bad blood. Justin being a leader didn't surprise me, not with the way he carried himself. Whenever he looked at you, it was hard to shake the feeling he was doing it down his nose. But Victoria's position was a surprise… And not one she seemed happy about being shared. That, or it was the jibes woven into Justin's explanation that had her looking like she smelled spoiled milk.

"So the leader of this Gold Regiment is meeting me personally." I tilted my head. "Seems lucky. I imagine you're pretty busy."

He laughed. "I always have enough time to check in with a recruit of your caliber. This was just a coincidence, though. I was coming to train, and the fates must have been looking out for me, because who do I see slicing away when I arrive?" He leaned in, and I got a whiff of citrus cologne. "I've got to say, I'm not one to swim against fate. Best to go with the flow, I say, and see where it takes you. So what do you say? One word, and I'll see you straight into the Gold Regiment. With your skills, your lineage… you would be wasted anywhere else."

"Hold on!" Victoria stepped in and shoved us apart, glaring at Justin. Justin's bodyguards stepped forward, but he shot them a look. "No recruiting until dinner, Justin. You know the rules just as well as I do."

Justin smirked. "What difference are a few hours going to make? Might as well get it over with now. Right, Percy?"

I held up my hands. "Look, I'm not trying to break any rules here. When I do, people tend to throw me out on my butt. Seeing as I just got here …"

Besides, there was something else bothering me. He had used the word lineage. As far as I knew, my father's identity wasn't common knowledge. Chief hadn't been aware. Victoria didn't seem like she knew. So why did this kid? It could've been nothing, but I didn't feel like taking the chance.

"Alright," Justin smiled indulgently. "We'll play by the rules. Enjoy the brief window of hope, Victoria. Good to meet you, Percy."

He strolled out the door, waving his hand over his shoulder. The two he'd brought followed obediently. For a guy who said we'd met by coincidence, he sure didn't stick around to train like he said he came to.

"He seemed pleasant," I said.

"Come on." Victoria grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the door. She was still glaring, but without a target she'd fixed it on the ground. "We're leaving."

"To go where?"

"Just follow me."

That wasn't hard, seeing as she was still dragging me along. We left the training room, followed a long hallway, then took a stairwell up. Even ten minutes later as we emerged onto a narrow balcony, Victoria's mood seemed just as foul.

"What," I said, "is this our next tour destination?" A stone bench looked out over a beautiful view of the Bay Area. White roses grew from twin ceramic pots in the corners, a small fountain burbling between them. It was pretty and peaceful… but that was it. "Doesn't seem like much."

Victoria was standing stiffly, her arms crossed. A thin line of blood had dribbled down her chin, and when she opened her mouth I could see she'd been biting her lip. "I know you let the Kallikantzaroi go."

"Well, yeah, I kind of got that from the part where you were standing there watching. I even tried to bring it up earlier-"

She cut me off. "It would be real bad if that got out. Even for you. Going against orders is a big deal around here, especially when those orders come straight from Luke's mouth."

"So are you going to tell on me?"

She didn't immediately say no. My hand drifted for the pocket holding Aelia, before stopping. No, Percy. Bad thoughts. She still caught the motion, and made an effort to get on with it.

"I won't tell a soul," she said. "But on one condition. You join the Bronze Regiment."

Silence. A breeze swept over us, carrying away a loose rose petal. Somewhere far below I heard a tourist yelling "Say cheese!" and then I couldn't hold it anymore- I burst out laughing.

Victoria took a step back. "What? What!? Is joining Bronze so ridiculous to you that-"

"No, no!" I tried to get my laughter under control with mixed success. "It's just, blackmail is your first resort? You didn't think to just ask?"

"Please," she said, "like that would work. I've been turned down twenty-five times. In a row! Everybody's too good for us, let alone someone Justin showed up to meet personally. Don't act like you would've said yes."

"Huh? I was planning on joining yours, though?"

"See? Of course you-" She blinked, her brain catching up. A school of fish could've swum into her mouth, it was open so wide. "You were? Why?"

I walked to the balcony railing to get a better view down. Being so high up reminded me of Dedalus's workshop, which was putting me in pretty a good mood. "I don't know anything about the Iron Regiment, so I guess I could've gone with them. But I didn't like Justin much. He seemed like kind of a dick."

"He's a total dick," she said, coming to stand beside me. "But what made you think that? I could practically hear the smooching noises with how hard he was kissing your ass."

I crinkled my nose. "It's just that. He acted all nice to me, but only because he could get something out of it. He did the same thing before, just to try and impress Luke. I don't like guys like that." I remembered kids like him even back in elementary school, ones who would try to get on the teacher's good side just to get away with picking on others. "They always make me wonder, well, what happens when they don't think I'm worth it anymore?"

"Then they pick fights." Victoria drummed her fingers on the guard rail. "Make fun of your mom in front of you. Demean your friends."

"See?" I smiled. "What's putting up with a few oddballs to avoid that? Besides, I'll probably fit right in."

Victoria smiled too, tentatively, before getting serious again. "Justin might be a dick, but he wasn't lying. The Bronze Regiment is… behind the others. Temporarily." She had to dig her nails into her palms just to get the words out. "I can't promise you that we'll be all that successful, or ever lead troops on the frontlines or anything."

"That's fine," I said. "I'm not into that stuff."

"And what are you into?" She faced me. "Everyone here is fighting for something. The kids of minor gods, most of them want to win respect for their parents. The ones that never got claimed are looking for a target to dump their frustration on."

"What's your reason?"

"To win," she said firmly.

I got the feeling she wasn't talking about the war, but something more general. "I'm not sure I have a reason."

"You do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here. Think for a second. It'll come."

I did as instructed. Following Dedalus had brought me to Mt. Orthrys, but when Kronos demanded an oath, that wasn't what had made my decision for me. It was Kronos's promise of rewards, and 'leaky' Underworld security.

"I need to impress the boss," I said. "He promised me something if I help him get what he wants. Something I want more than anything, but had given up hope on for a while."

Victoria didn't press for specifics. "The best way to do that, is to stand out. Show that you're better than the rest and more important because of it. The best way to that is to knock off the guy who's on top now."

I smirked. "In other words, kick Justin in his smug backside, right?"

"Something like that. Just remember-"

"No promises."

Victoria nodded. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course, that doesn't mean we won't try. Anything less than a hundred percent is unacceptable if we want a real chance."

"Sounds like my type of plan."

I held out my hand. Victoria stared at it a moment, wavering.

"You're really joining, right? This isn't some prank someone put you up to or-"

"I'm doing it."

She took a deep breath. Her foot was tapping excitedly, and I realized just how much this meant to her. After twenty-five consecutive refusals, she'd finally banged her head into the wall enough times to form a hole.

She took my hand.

"Oh, one other thing," I said off-handedly as we shook.

She tilted her head. "What is it?"

"Don't - ever - try blackmailing me again." Just because it turned out fine, didn't mean I was about to drop it completely. "I'm telling you now, it won't work. Or end well for you."

I glared, hammering in my point. It wasn't until I saw her eyes drift over my shoulder that I realized the fountain had stopped flowing, its contents rising into the air on standby. Victoria gulped.

"Got it," she said.

"Awesome!" I grinned. The water splashed down, spraying every direction but the one we were standing. "Let's get working then. The other regiments won't know what hit them."

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

I Decide My Future Over Dinner

I didn't know what hit me.

It could've been ice cream, or maybe even spaghetti. All I knew was it was soppy, and hit square on my forehead the second I entered the dining hall. I brought a finger to my face, wiped off a bit, and tasted it. Both guesses were wrong. The projectile was an icing-topped chocolate cupcake.

"Tasty," I said, but the words were lost under raucous cheering.

The Mount Orthrys dining hall was huge. Human-shaped clouds of vapor whizzed around the room, dishes floating on their blurry arms. One zipped up to me and handed over a napkin. I put it to use and kept looking.

A mural of the night sky was painted across the vaulted ceiling, the stars bound by grabbing hands at the corners while a scythe slashed a gash into the middle. A table was set alone right at the front of the room, space at it for a half dozen chairs. Only three were actually there, although two of those were massive. One seat was steel in the style of a king's throne, with armrests the width of barrels. Another was wooden and simple to the point of rickety despite its size. And wedged between the two was a regular old dining chair. All three seats sat empty, facing toward five long parallel tables lined with benches.

Assorted monsters lined the two tables on the edges, most of them on their feet and cheering because of what was happening between the other three.

A big guy that I recognized as one of Justin's bodyguards had a smaller boy in the air by his collar. Behind them, crouching on one of the tables, was a kid wearing a ski mask and a black hoodie with the hood pulled all the way up. His arm was still stretched from throwing the cupcake that struck my face. From the angle, I guessed he had been aiming for the Gold Regiment kid and missed.

"What's the meaning of this!" Victoria shouted, showing seriously impressive lung capacity to be heard over the clamoring monsters.

A lot of demigods turned to us. I could guess from their expressions which table belonged to which regiment. Twelve kids ages fourteen to seventeen were watching smugly, like it was a comedy show. That would be the Gold Regiment. At the next table over sat nearly twenty, most of whom looked bored. Some were already eating. They would be the Iron Regiment. Which left only…

The last table was chaos, and not just because of the guy crouched on it. A girl was splayed lengthwise across the bench, a neck pillow on and an eye mask over her face. A burly African American girl sat next to her dabbing drool off the sleeper's cheek with a handkerchief. Opposite them a guy in a trench coat was smiling ominously, his collar pulled up level with his sunken eyes. A blond girl that looked barely old enough for middle school and a mousy boy with no standout features were both looking around like rabbits- alert, and ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Meanwhile the kid being held up noticed us.

"Oh, hey Victoria!" If you'd only heard his voice, you would've never guessed he was in any trouble. "You just get here?"

"I'm not about to repeat myself." Victoria marched over. "What's going on here? Why is my subordinate being assaulted?"

I didn't notice Justin at the Gold Regiment table until he spoke, holding up his hands for calm. "I should point out how strong a word 'assault' is. Look at him, does he look beaten?"

The kids around him snickered.

"Don't argue semantics with me, Petty," Victoria snapped. "He's a foot off the ground! Let go. Now."

Nobody moved for long enough that I wondered if a brawl was going to break out on my first day. Then Justin sighed, dragged a rueful hand through his hair, and nodded to his subordinate.

The big guy dropped the kid roughly.

"The next time you talk, I'll shut your mouth," he said.

The Bronze Regiment kid stumbled. His wavy brown hair and innocent features looked straight from a renaissance painting of a cherub… then he opened his mouth. "Have you considered a career modeling orthodontist work? You would be perfect for the before picture that scares kids into getting braces. You know that you're supposed to brush those things, right?"

All that in one breath. I thought round two was about to break out – or round one of an actual fight – but Victoria got to the kid and hurried him away. The monsters reluctantly settled down, frustrated by the lack of bloodshed. Which left me standing awkwardly, not sure where to go.

After our balcony talk, Victoria had filled me in about the whole recruiting procedure. Apparently, you could only join a regiment at dinner. There was a whole system to it with Regiment leaders giving a pitch on why theirs was the best to join. If they wanted you, that was. A leader could always pass, and you would be left to choose from the others. If none took you, you could be tossed in with the monsters, but Victoria assured me that never happened. There wasn't nearly enough new blood to be that picky.

Early recruiting was a big no-no, so regiments couldn't snag anyone before they knew their options. That was why Justin had backed off earlier, and why I couldn't just stroll up to the Bronze Regiment table now. They had enough problems without getting slammed for rule-breaking.

So I shoved my hands into my pockets and tried to ignore the awkwardness. The first to notice me was a stocky boy from the Iron Regiment. He picked up his goblet and fork, wound up, and struck them together. I expected the cup to dent, or even burst open at the side with how hard he did it. Instead pinging filled the room. Chatter slowed as he got to his feet.

He was no Peneus, but this dude's muscles weren't too far off. In a way they looked more impressive bulging from his tank top, because he was only five-eight or so. His blue irises seemed to waver in the light, tempestuous and unstable. When he spoke, his voice was deep but smooth.

"We're all here now, aren't we?" He looked around. "The regiment leaders, and the recruit. Any reason we can't go ahead with things?"

"No reason at all," said a new voice, and Luke strode in from the opposite door. He took a seat in the normal-sized chair at the front table, and smiled at me. "Leaders, stand if you want him. Anyone that doesn't care… just start eating I guess."

The monsters took that as the queue to dig into their meals. No demigods did. The Iron Regiment kids even stopped eating to watch. If I was an actor, I probably would've relished the feeling of the spotlight, but I wasn't, and there was a reason for that.

Victoria stood, keeping her face neutral. Justin didn't hide his smirk as he did the same.

"All three," Luke said, looking pleased. "Well, keeps things interesting. Kurt gets first since he started things off. Victoria after, and Justin will take the last spot."

Justin didn't look upset about going last, smiling like a cat watching its prey squirm. He didn't believe there was a chance he could lose here, which got me a little bit eager. I wanted to watch that expression flip.

"Sup," the muscular boy said, tilting his wide, flat jaw. "I'm Kurt, leader of the Iron Regiment. You've had the regiment system explained, I assume?"

I nodded.

"Perfect. All I've got to do then is tell you about mine." He gestured to the boys and girls around him. "We'll start simple. What's the most important quality in comrades? A lot of people say power. But if all you're looking for is power, you're bound to pick bad apples along the way." Maybe I was imagining things, but I could've sworn his eyes flickered toward Justin. "Some hear that and say, what should I look for then, kindness? But kindness without power? That's weakness. And in this unsteady world, to be weak is to sign yourself up for tragedy. What you need, what you need comrades who pride themselves on, is durability."

He slammed his palm on the table, hard enough that I could hear wood creak across the room. "Durability to defy hardship. Durability to withstand organization. Durability to take all challenges, ball them up, and hurl them back hard twice as hard. That is what I can offer you- durable shoulders, to share your load when the weight grows too heavy."

He sat slowly, holding eye contact. I don't know if it was his baritone voice or how much practice he had giving that speech, but I could've listened to him go on all day. It almost made me feel bad that he was wasting his time… almost. Durability wasn't really my thing. My plans tended to center around hitting first.

Next up was Victoria. I had to hand it to her, her poker face was good. She took a deep breath, balled and un-balled her fists, then spoke, all without letting a scrap of suspicious emotion show.

"We're the Bronze Regiment," she said. "We're the smallest numbers-wise. What you see is all of us, just eight. But that lack means we're more motivated than anyone else." I couldn't help shooting a glance at the girl sound asleep in the middle of dinner. Who knows, maybe she was tuckered from an incredibly intense day of training. More likely, Victoria was talking out her ass.

"Each of us is unique. We've all got our quirks, none of us are robots. And… sure, maybe we don't always keep up. People overlook us cause of that. Think that we aren't a threat. But when we put our minds to something? That's when everyone should get scared."

She sat too, following Kurt's example. It might not have been as thorough as the one before it, but her speech had come from the heart. Which left only Justin. Despite myself, I couldn't help wondering how impressive his speech would be.

Justin cleared his throat. "You know who we are."

He sat down and I thought, "There's no way that can be it". The guy had the balls of an immortal, and the arrogance too. Those things probably went together.

"That's that, I guess," Luke said. He rose and approaching me. "Some might've been… shorter than others, but we've heard from everyone. What's left is to choose."

This part I hadn't been told about. Would I walk straight to the table I wanted? Did they expect me to give my own speech? I hoped not. There were much quicker ways to completely embarrass myself.

Instead Luke tossed me a carved wooden figurine, no bigger than my palm. It was double-sided with two nearly identical male faces on it. Turning it over, I found one face was smiling while the other snarled.

"Focus on your choice," Luke told me. "And when you can picture it clearly, without any doubt, toss the token in there."

He pointed across the room, past all of the tables to the far wall, where a huge brazier sat, its flames licking dangerously high past the iron base.

"When the wood burns, the color will change," Luke explained. "Gold for the Gold Regiment, Grey for the Iron Regiment, and… well, you get the picture."

I wondered if it was a coincidence that he didn't bother mentioning the Bronze Regiment. Outwardly, I nodded and began the long walk.

Somehow the roaring fire made no smoke. I stepped close enough for the heat to wash over my face and tried to conjure the proper images.

No doubt, Luke had said. But what exactly did that mean? I decided to start from the other side- what I didn't want.

Justin was talented. Charismatic, too, in his own smarmy way. But I hated the way he looked at others. Everything was about what he could get from you. He didn't believe that he could lose, just because he hadn't in a while. I would much rather shut up a guy like that than work under him.

What about Kurt? I didn't know much about the guy, but he seemed solid enough. He was a good public speaker, clearly knew his way around a protein shake, and was the closest to knocking Justin off his perch. Except…

All the Iron Regiment kids had the same thing on their plates- steaks with broccoli. Some had started eating while waiting for me to choose, and every one of them was taking the same measured bites. They were organized, but not free. That wasn't the way I wanted to live.

I realized that was it. Freedom. I wanted to be free as much as possible to do what I wanted to do. I was past running from my heritage – Andi had seen to that – and if there was one thing the Sea hated, it was being constrained.

Where better to be free than with the others too eccentric to be organized?

I tossed the figurine in.

It disintegrated on impact, ashes spreading like confetti dropped into a pool. Each shard sparked into color. Slowly at first, then quicker, the flames went the color of a fresh penny.

It wasn't like a hush fell over the room. The monsters went on growling and tearing through meat. But when I turned to the demigod tables, no one was moving.

"I'll just, um…" I smiled and inched toward the Bronze Regiment table.

Before I got close Justin shot to his feet.

"You did it wrong!" he accused. "Didn't Luke tell you to picture it clearly? You messed up and got the wrong one. Go do it again."

"No, I did it right," I said. "That was what I meant to get."

He sneered. "Then you're either an idiot, or you were lied to. Did she tell you that they were all diamonds in the rough or something? Pretend that they actually had some talent?"

Victoria opened her mouth, but someone beat her to it.

"That's enough," Luke said. "Percy chose. I don't recall the other leaders acting out when you picked up a recruit. Return the favor."

It was honestly impressive how quickly Justin screwed his face into a polite smile. "Of course Luke. My bad."

That didn't stop him from shooting me a final nasty look before going back to his dinner. I finished the walk to my new table.

I was going to choose a seat on the end, but Victoria elbowed the guy next to her until he scooted down, then tapped the bench. I slid into the space as one of the cloud servants buzzed by and dropped food on my plate.

"Welcome," she said. "Sorry about the…"

She looked at my forehead in a way that made me wonder if I hadn't gotten all the frosting off. "Don't worry about the cupcake. As far as introductions go, it was pretty sweet."

The guy in the trench coat chuckled. His skin was totally pale, except underneath his eyes where it went dark like shadows. If he ever entered himself in a Halloween decoration contest, I liked his chances. "I find this one's humor stimulating," he said. "I am Lucas Strashen. A pleasure to meet you."

"Oh! Are we like, doing an introduction thing?" the angelic-looking kid leaned over the table, and I realized I'd seen him before. He had been chatting with Victoria the first time I saw her, back on the expedition from Dedalus's workshop. "I'm Emmitt, but most people call me useless."

"Do you prefer Emmitt?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Both are true. Use whichever you feel like."

"I'm Alyssa," said a girl that looked like the youngest at the table. Her golden-blonde hair was pulled into pigtails, and she was wearing so much blush that her cheeks looked like a flamingo's underbelly. Even as she introduced herself, she was applying an eighth layer of lipstick.

Next to her, a bland-looking boy I didn't remember noticing said, "Nice to meet you. I'm James Smith."

The African American girl grabbed her sleeping friend by the collar, lifting her up. "I'm Vera. This is Aurora. If you need something from her, make sure it's something she doesn't need to wake up for."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. The guy that had pegged me with his dessert was the only one who hadn't gone, and it didn't look like he would be introducing himself anytime soon as he brooded over a bowl of noodles at the end of the bench.

"Well, you guys probably already got this, but I'm Percy. I hope we get along and everything."

I trailed off with my best attempt at a charming smile. Victoria clapped her hands.

"Yes!" she said. "Do you guys see? That's how you do an introduction. Effective, mildly awkward, and nothing ridiculous. Seriously, take notes!"

"Mildly awkward?" I muttered as Emmitt patted her hand.

"Come on Victoria," he said. "My dance was a nice touch."

Victoria shivered. "I felt like I was bullying you just watching, and I didn't even tell you to do it. You had werewolves laughing at you. I didn't know werewolves could laugh!"

"What of my gripping ghost tale?" said Lucas. "It was the most chilling in my collection."

"Or my presentation on Aurora's good points," Vera said. "I made a PowerPoint. Remember the slide on her soft snores? Or the illustrations of her favorite napping positions?" She nodded seriously. "A work of art."

"I'm not even going to try," Victoria said. "You all are hopeless."

Just then the Iron Regiment all stood and made for the brazier I'd tossed the token into, plates in hand. A few monsters joined them and formed a line, scraping portions of their food into the fire one by one. Just like it had when I chose my regiment, the fire changed colors.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Sacrifices," Victoria said. "You offer up a portion of your food to the Titans, and it helps them regain a little of their power every time." A lithe girl from the Silver Regiment tossed in a steaming muffin, and the flames went sunflower-yellow. "The color changes depending on who you choose. Yellow is… Hyperion, I think."

"Some people give to minor gods," Emmett said. "But that's a little different. It's more like food for them. Still, people like supporting their parents."

"Do you give to yours?" I asked him.

His chubby cheeks pulled into a smile. "Nah. Mom wouldn't like it even if I tried."

While we'd been talking the Iron Regiment finished up, and the Gold Regiment took their place. When it was Justin's turn he gave up most of his plate, and the flames went gold. I could've snorted. Of course he only had eyes for the very top.

Soon it was our turn. As we passed the Gold Regiment, Justin leaned over and muttered, "You messed up, Jackson."

I told him to go eat his broccoli.

We gave our offerings. Victoria's made the fire golden, but a lighter shade than Justin's offering. More like the color of her eyes. Nobody hesitated at the front of the line, except for me. I realized only as I had a strip of bacon and a slice of Pizza pushed precariously to the plate's edge that I didn't actually know who to give to.

Choosing Kronos seemed boring, and like something I didn't feel like doing. I settled on Coeus, as a thank you for letting me go the last time we met.

As the meat and dough disintegrated a blast of cold grasped my face, white filling my vision. When it faded a pleasant chill had settled over me, like the arctic wind was patting my back.

Returning to the Bronze Regiment table, I noticed most of the monsters hadn't moved.

"Offerings aren't mandatory?" I asked, eying a Cyclops tear through an entire leg of goat.

"Of course not," Victoria said. "The only things monsters care about are fighting and eating. Even if loyalty means something to them, food means more."

"It's one of the reasons they keep us around," Alyssa said, her youthful face surprisingly bitter. "Demigods are more likely to give offerings. We make for great snacks when they aren't embarrassing us."

Victoria chewed a bite of chicken. "The Competition isn't meant to embarrass us," she said sternly. "It's a chance to show off our talent and rise in the ranks. Winning always brings prestige. And, more importantly, bragging rights."

"But what is it?" I asked. Luke had brought it up when we arrived at Mt. Orthrys, and even Kronos had mentioned it. But neither had actually explained a thing.

"It's a game," Emmett said. He set down his fork to make claws with his fingers, dragging them through the air. "A war game. Really scary. You know, last time, I got clocked in the head so hard that my temple was purple for a month." He pointed to a piece of eggplant in his salad. "This purple!"

"So it's fighting?"

"Not at first," he said. "First they wait until nighttime, then they drop you in a dark forest, and then you get beat up really bad. This time, I'm hoping they at least skip the face."

All around the table people's plates got extremely interesting. Lucas was rubbing his elbow. Vera shifted weight off her lower back. Something told me it wasn't just Emmett that had taken beatings in the past.

The only one who didn't seem determined to be distracted was Victoria. "It's a strategy game that incorporates stealth, fighting, and tactics," she explained. "Every Regiment chooses eight people and sends them out with a key item- a small vase. You can hide or defend the vase however you want, so long as you don't leave the boundaries. From that point on if you're disarmed or incapacitated, you're out, and whoever has more people left when the time runs out wins. The only way to get someone that's out back in is to get to the other team's vase and tip it over. We play best of three rounds."

So they got everyone fired up, armed them, and dropped them in the dark with instructions to fight. "Sounds dangerous."

Victoria shrugged. "They say not to maim, so you can't do anything too bad and be obvious about it."

"Which means you can still do it, right? If you're sneaky?"

This time, not even Victoria answered.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

My first job came the next morning.

Luke met me personally outside my room. Walking around Mt. Orthrys with him was even stranger than walking with Victoria had been. Monsters going past without attacking was strange, but hadn't prepared me at all for the kneeling.

As we squeezed between a pair of Laistrygonians that had taken hasty knees, I asked, "Do all monsters do this when they see you?"

"Most of them," Luke said.

"And that doesn't weird you out at all?"

"At first it did. I got over that quickly. Hierarchy is important in any army, but with monsters, it's crucial. If you don't keep reminding them that you're above them, they get ideas. Suddenly everything looks like a snack… including you. That's why people like us need to be in the proper positions."

I could hear the disapproval in Luke's voice. "You think I shouldn't have joined the Bronze Regiment."

"I didn't say that, Percy."

"But that's what you meant. Proper position… mine would be in the Gold Regiment, or at least the Silver. Helping them keep winning. Looking down on others."

"That's not what it's about." Luke sighed. "It's just, I'm not sure you understand what you've signed on for. I know how good you are. But that regiment will just be baggage, no matter how interested you are in their leader."

"Still with this crush stuff? Give it a rest already." I groaned. "Besides, you shouldn't be talking like that about your subordinates. They're still on our side."

"You've barely met them. Everyone in that regiment is there for a reason. They've all got a defect or five that they won't fix, and nobody wanted them because of it."

"Hey according to the gods, I'm discontinued goods. I've got some defects myself."

Luke shook his head. "Not like theirs. I'm just worried, Percy. I think you're being impulsive."

I wasn't interested in being lectured on impulse control by the guy that went around picking fights with every monster he could find the last time we met. I didn't want point fingers, but if Luke had taken his own advice back then there was a decent chance Thalia never would've ended up as summer housing for squirrels.

If I said that, though, I might well have ended up chucked off the mountain, so I changed topics before my big mouth introduced me to terminal velocity.

"So, what's this job?" We'd been working our way down, following staircases toward the ground floor. "Is it outside or something?"

"Close," Luke said. "Underground."

I frowned. "We aren't going to the forges, are we?"

"What, did Chief's sunny disposition not leave a good impression?"

"More like I don't think he liked very me much," I said.

"Gods, I wonder what it could've been." Luke laughed at my sour look. "Don't worry, we aren't going near any Telekhines. We're headed somewhere completely different."

The staircase we'd been following ended, spitting us out into one of the chameleon hallways. I was already sick of beige walls. Lucky for me, I didn't have to put up with them long. Luke stopped at the first door on the left, which looked identical to the one tomy mom's old bedroom. The passage on the other side of it couldn't have been more different, though.

It was solid white, like the entrance to an insane asylum, but decorated with paintings of kittens and flowers.

"What's with the pictures?" I asked.

"Oh, they're just in case."

"In case? In case of what?"

Luke waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. You'll be on guard duty."

I thought of the twins that had waved us into the titan compound. "Like those bear guys?"

"Slightly different. You'll be guarding a person, not a door."

I blinked. From the movies I'd watched, I expected to start with watching a side entrance or maybe running an errand. Something simple and annoying. "As in, 'protecting someone' guarding, or 'keeping them locked up' guarding?"

"Hmm. A bit of both, I'd say."

Well, at least it didn't sound too boring.

The paintings were getting more common. A rug had been laid over the floor to cover some of the oppressive white. Maybe I was imagining things, but the hall seemed to be sloping downhill.

"We picked her up less than a year ago," Luke explained. "She's a smart girl, but she's new to this world. Not like you and me. It's only been a few months, and between the shock and losing her brother, she's gotten a bit brusque."

"What happened to the brother?" I asked.

"The gods got him."

"So, what, he's at Camp Half-Blood?"

Luke's smile made me want to duck behind a decoration.

"No," he said. "We were this close to getting both of them-" he held up two pinched fingers "-but at the last second, the gods showed their true colors. Our agent escorting them was nearly vaporized, and the little brother fell quite a ways into the sea. Nothing much for you I suppose, but deadly for anyone else."

I frowned. "You said this was guard duty. Are you so worried about security that you need me to protect her in your own home base?"

Luke laughed. "Nothing like that. Don't worry, we're not asking you to duel a god here. She's just a little disoriented and needs someone to keep an eye on her."

"So I'm her therapist."

"Nothing that extreme," he assured me. "Just answer any questions she asks and give her some company. Ah, here we are."

He stopped in front of a tall, firm door. It was the first we'd seen since entering the hallway. At the top was an arch, and the entire thing was in the same starry color scheme I'd seen on the dining hall's roof. It would have seemed a normal door, if not for the three separate locks hung from chains across its surface.

"Hey," I said, "so usually when guests are somewhere voluntarily, they aren't locked in. Definitely not three times."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, Percy. You're overthinking it. Sure the stress may've been a bit worse than I let on, and sure giving one of the early shifts to a dracaena might've made things worse, but it's not nearly as bad as your making it out."

As he spoke he pulled keys from his pocket and twisted them in the locks one by one. Each clicked open, and he pocketed the keys again, laying a hand on the handle and giving an 'after you' gesture. I noticed he didn't give me the keys.

"Come on," he said, opening the door, "You'll see-"

An olive blur launched forward, something white striking Luke's face at high speed. His head snapped sideways and he started to cough. Instinctively, he reached out and shoved. The shape fell backward with a yelp, and Luke quickly pulled me inside before it could rise again.

Once inside I could identify the blur for what it was- a girl. A girl with tanned skin, shaggy brown hair, and a wild look in pink-tinged eyes. Her grey t-shirt was baggy and her jeans hung over her ankles, like she was stuck wearing hand-me-downs from an older brother. She glared up and clasped her hold of her weapon, a fluffy pillow, preparing for a follow up assault.

"Percy," Luke said quickly with a hint of annoyance, "meet Bianca Di Angelo."

Bianca eyed me like she was picturing how I'd look with my head removed via pillow.

I gave my friendliest smile. "Nice to meet you. I'm Percy."

She smiled back. "Go die."

I blinked. I looked to Luke, just to see if he'd heard. He nodded tiredly.

"Well now," Luke said, "you two have fun."

Before I could ask if it was too late for a reassignment, he closed the door. A moment later came the click of a lock- three times.

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Gambling With New Friends

"So," I said, "how's your day going?"

Bianca was sat on the bed where she'd headed as soon as Luke left, her pillow laid across her knees. I got the feeling she wanted to ignore me by staring at the wall, but she was definitely a demigod. Her eyes couldn't stick in one place long. The result was a very thorough scanning of all the room's corners, every direction but the one I was standing in.

"Are you just going to ignore me?"

Silence.

"Alright. You do that. Just means less work for me."

But five minutes in my confidence had evaporated. She wasn't the only one with ADD, and it turns out the only thing more boring than studying walls is watching someone else study walls. You learn something new every day.

I started to inspect the room. It was even emptier than my own down in the Labyrinth, but fuller than my new one. A dresser stood in the corner. There was a table with a lamp beside the bed, and in the room's center was a chair and desk combo that brought me back to my school days. I approached the desk.

A pencil was laying on top. Little x's and skulls had been doodled onto the surface. Some were pretty well drawn. I bent over to look inside and just caught a glimpse of stacked papers before my host spoke.

"Look in there," Bianca said brightly, "and I'll kill you."

"Do you always sound so cheerful when you threaten people?"

She cocked her head. "When they deserve it."

"Well," I said, "at least you're talking now."

She smirked slowly and, most of all, silently. I rolled my eyes.

Next I went for the table. A boxy digital clock gave the time as eight-fourty. The lamp was narrow and topped with a cylindrical shade. I leaned in close to look for anything interesting, but found only a few more doodled skulls. I was about to turn away when light nailed my retinas. I jerked away, rubbing my eyes and growling. When I uncovered them, Bianca was sitting smugly, a hand still on the light switch.

"Thanks," I said. "That was a whole lot of fun."

"You're welcome."

Irritated, I strode toward the final object. The dresser was tall, with twin doors opening to a top section and three drawers making up the lower part. I stopped in front of it and decided which to pull open first.

"Touch that," Bianca said, "and-"

"I'm dead, right?" I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, not likely."

Making a decision, I reached for the middle drawer and yanked it open, ignoring Bianca's yelp to stop. I grinned in revenge as it slid open. Then I blinked. Slowly, I slid it closed and took three steps away.

"Sorry," I said softly, looking at the floor.

"Screw you. Who said you could look through my room? Honestly, why won't you guys just leave me alone?"

"It's for your protection," I said, although it sounded weak even to me. "I'm guarding you."

"Guarding me against what, the giant monster that grabbed me straight out of my school? Oh, wait, you work with him." She smiled sardonically. "Hey, maybe you're brothers!"

I shifted from foot to foot. "I mean, it's possible. My dad does some weird stuff. One time, he even changed a lover into a sheep, and himself into a ram, and, well… So not all my siblings walk on two legs."

Bianca looked caught off guard for a second. Then she built up steam. "See? Who's to say you're even human? You're probably hiding a scaled tail, or a third arm or something. I already know I can't trust my eyes after that thing taught me for a whole year. What else can't I trust?"

Sympathy sprouted in my gut. If my own introduction to this world had been rougher, without Dedalus to guide me through it, I probably would've ended up just like the girl in front of me: jumpy, hurt, and totally disoriented.

"I get it," I said, but apparently that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"No," she said, getting up and advancing on me, her pillow swinging menacingly. "You think you get it. Everyone thinks they get it. Well, picture this."

She leaned right up in my face. "You're outside in a snowstorm, some creature that you thought was your teacher dragging you off a cliff. You're screaming, wailing for someone to save you. The creature takes off, and suddenly lightning tries to blast you out of the air."

"It misses, but the creature drops you. You're falling. Straight down through the storm, past rocks, toward the waves, while the person you thought would always protect you watches helplessly. Tell me, do you 'get' that?"

I hesitated. It didn't seem like the time to say, "I'd actually be fine, as long as it was water". She took my pause as something else.

"Yeah, I thought so."

She turned, walked back to the bed, and sat. For the next five hours until my shift ended, she didn't say a word. I didn't try to get anything more out of her, either. I didn't have a clue where to even start.

As soon as I was free I grabbed a quick lunch at the dining hall. After that, it was finally time for my reunion with Dedalus.

Whatever Kronos had him doing, they weren't wasting any time. I guessed it made sense that a job important enough to earn you domain over the dead came with serious time commitments. Still, it had been nearly two days since we'd arrived, and I hadn't seen my teacher once since splitting off to meet Kronos.

Just like Luke said the workshop was on the first floor, not too far past the elevator. Finding the right door would've been a nightmare, except that only one was propped open.

I entered the workshop.

There were surprisingly few boxes. I expected lots to be piled up, either still not unpacked or tossed haphazardly aside once their contents were emptied. Instead there were just desks. One had two separate monitors, both running through long strings of numbers. Another had Dedalus's laptop set up in the middle. Six more were coated in stacks of papers, but these had been pushed to the edges of the room to form an open space.

Dedalus was leaning against one of the rearranged desks, holding the edge with his hands. Behind him was his sword, and he wore the work jeans he always dueled in.

"Look who it is," he said. "If my student hasn't shown his face."

"That's me. Your work must be keeping you busy."

"Quite," he agreed. "We're still in the theoretical phase and will be for some time. So many calculations. It has me quite ready for a break." He grabbed his sword and spun it around. "You've worked hard, spending months with the spear. It makes me shiver… Just think how rusty must you be with the sword? I'll need to straighten you out."

I grinned. "No wasting time, huh?"

"We've got much less to waste these days."

I grabbed Anfisa. We met right in the middle of the cleared space.

Dedalus aimed high and I ducked. I aimed for his side, and he parried. A quick hop and I attacked from a new angle, but he parried that too, setting himself up for an offensive.

Over the noise we talked like always.

"Is the project going well?" I asked around a stab.

"Well enough." He grunted and tried to make space. "Early stages still, of course."

"You think you can do it?"

He chuckled, dodging a grab from my metal arm. "If I didn't at least believe that I could, I wouldn't be a very good inventor. I'm more interested in you. What's this I hear about some Bronze Regiment?"

"You heard that already?" I groaned. A stab came at my shoulder, and I turned out of its path. "Seriously, how fast does gossip travel in this place?"

"Luke comes by often to check for progress," Dedalus admitted. "He's as eager as I am to see me succeed. He also doesn't think much of your choice."

"Save it." I used the back of my hand as a shield before making a grab for Dedalus's hilt. He pulled back just in time. "I already had the conversation with Luke. He thinks they're hopeless. I think they're a fixer-upper."

Maybe it was leftover irritation from my argument with Luke, or maybe I really was rusty with a sword. I overcommitted. The result was Dedalus giving my hand a WHAP! with the flat of his blade. My sword dropped to the floor.

"Potential means nothing if you can't bring it out," he said. "It often takes something specific to see it blossom, and everyone is different. Don't underestimate the challenge of that process."

I picked up Anfisa, rubbing my wrist. "Maybe. But I would be a pretty poor inventor's student if I didn't at least believe I could do it."

Dedalus couldn't hide his smile. "Touché."

We started again.

"I won't judge your choice," Dedalus said as we fought. "Gods know I'm not informed enough to offer an opinion. I only have one stipulation: do not slack on your own training. It wound hang on my conscience if you gave others bad advice, all because I didn't work you hard enough."

I twisted my sword around his mid-swing, going for a disarming maneuver. It was a risk. Anything less than perfect would earn me a gash on the arm. This time, it paid off. My blade caught the corner of Dedalus's hilt and now it was his sword hitting the floor.

I tried to ignore the rush that burned through my system.

"Don't worry about that," I said. "Even if you tried, there's no way I'd let you ditch me that easily."

Hours later with a layer of sweat caked on, I stumbled back up to my guest room for a shower. Like the bed, the shower was designed for something a whole lot taller than me or any other person. The reason for that, I'd learned the night before, was that this room was only temporary.

Demigods slept with their regiments normally. Every regiment had their own base, including dorms, in a different part of the compound. Since I hadn't had a regiment, they'd stuck me in a guest room. What kind of came to Mt Orthrys I didn't know, and likely wouldn't be finding out anytime soon because I was moving.

I had a regiment now, and it was time to join them properly.

I didn't have all that much stuff. Aside from my pocket-sized weapon and my clothes all I'd brought was Andi's magical healing kitchen set, all of which could be packed into a single banker's box.

Since I'd never actually seen the place, Victoria said she'd send someone to show me the way. I thought she might do it herself, but when the knock on my door came it was Emmitt.

"Is this everything?" he asked when I'd opened the door.

"Yep. I'm all ready to go."

I bent to scoop up the box, but he threw his hands out to stop me.

"Let me do it!"

"You sure?" I wasn't attached to carrying it or anything, but the kid looked like a couple of towels would have his arms buckling.

He puffed out his chest. "I've got it. Don't worry about a thing."

When he got the box off the ground his eyes widened, like the weight caught him off-guard. But he started walking, albeit slightly shakily.

"Victoria wanted to swing by herself," he said. "But work came up, so she sent me."

That brought up a question I'd been wondering about for a while. "What is it you guys actually do?" I asked.

"Depends. Victoria's the leader, so they give her jobs to give to the rest of us. Small things. Go to the East Bay and eliminate a rogue monster. Patrol the mountain for intruders. The rest of the time we train. Or I mean, we're supposed to. The others, um, they aren't too into that."

"What about you? Do you train?"

"Oh I train!" He beamed over the lip of the box. "I train every day for hours. Sword fighting, archery, first aid, you name it."

"Neat. So a jack of all trades sort of thing."

"In theory?" His response came out more like a question than the statement it was intended as. "Of course, some people also do Feats."

"You mean what you walk with?"

"No, no! F E A T. As in an action that's really impressive."

He hopped with excitement, which nearly saw him topple forward. "And they are! Impressive, that is. And Epic! And action packed! And challenging, and dangerous, and, um, kind of a death sentence for kids like me."

He lost enthusiasm with each word, until he was practically groaning by the end. He looked so beat up that the box started wobbling, like the energy was draining out of his arms. I got the urge to cheer him up any way I could.

"Don't think that way man, I'm sure you'd do fine. Don't sell yourself short."

"I am short," he said morosely. "And scrawny, and weak. I can barely hold a sword. Bowstrings cut my hands. But you! You're friends with Luke. All the regiments wanted you, even if you joined ours. If it were you I'm sure you could achieve a Feat."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said. "It might mean more, though, if you explained what a Feat actually is."

"'Course I can. Honestly it shouldn't have taken this long. I could have led with a description, and then you wouldn't've had to ask again, and this is why I'm such a dummy-"

"Uh-huh," I cut in. "Dude, you're good. Actually, now that I think about it, now is the perfect time to have it explained. Any earlier would've been too early."

He sniffed. "You mean it?"

"Totally."

"Alright. Yeah, alright! So a feat is like those jobs I mentioned. You know, the patrols and stuff. But these are waaay bigger. Top secret missions. Long distance trips. You could face off against powerful independent monsters, or Camp Half-Blood campers, or even gods if things go wrong. The possibilities are way scary.

"Hmm," I said. "So how many demigods have completed one of these Feats?"

"Oh, almost none. Luke's credited with one for something three years ago, before the system was in place. Kurt and Justin both did one and that's why they get to lead. There's one more girl in the Gold Regiment, a daughter of Melinoe. But that's it."

"So, hypothetically, say I were to complete one of these Feats. That would show I was really valuable, right?"

Emmitt nodded. "Hundred percent."

"And everyone would recognize me?"

"Totally."

"Even Kronos?"

"Ye- Well, I mean I think so." Emmitt's eyebrows squeezed together. "Why do you want to know?"

I hummed. "Don't worry about it. I'm just thinking is all."

We made it three floors before we had to stop. No matter how much he insisted he was fine, Emmitt's arms were ready to give out. I told him I could take a turn, but he only shook his head.

"I've got it," he said between pants. "Just… give me… a second."

I decided to drop it, worried that if I didn't he would get that sad look on his face again, the one that made me feel like I'd stomped a puppy's tail.

We took our break in the corner of a landing, up against the wall to stay out of the way. The wallpaper even smelled musty like a real inner-city apartment. I wondered if the Titan magic would go as far as to start spawning cockroaches for a finishing touch.

I kept quiet to let Emmitt catch his breath, which meant I heard the footsteps when they were still a floor away.

They were heavy enough that I thought a Telekhine might've been slapping its way toward us. But when the source came into sight, it was just a heavily built guy.

"There you are," said Kurt. His voice was as smooth as the night before, but a little bit higher, probably because he wasn't projecting his voice. "I was hoping to catch you on the way down."

Call me paranoid, but the guy I'd just rejected tracking me down set off all kinds of warning bells in my head. "How'd you know where I was?"

"I had someone watch your door. She Iris Messaged me that you were going down, and I came over." He caught my apprehension and held up his hands. "Whoa, I just want a chat. I don't mean anything bad."

"You staked out my room."

Kurt shrugged, still keeping his arms up. "Like I said, I wanted to chat. I had to catch you somehow. But I'm no Justin- I can take rejection with grace. Actually, that's what I'm here about."

I put my hands on my hips (making sure they could slip easily into my pockets) and looked unimpressed. "Fine. Get to it."

"Direct," Kurt said. "Alright. The competition is this week. We'll be facing each other."

"What about the Gold Regiment?"

Emmitt spoke up. "They get a bye since they won the last one. It'll start with Iron versus Bronze, the losers from last time."

"No offense," he added, glancing at Kurt.

Kurt shrugged. "None taken. After all, I plan on playing the final again this time, too. No offense."

"You're pretty confident," I said.

"We're 4 and 0 against you guys. Sorry, but that's good reason for it, new recruit or no. And this time there's something extra on the line… For you."

Kurt rubbed his face like an office worker trying to ward off afternoon drowsiness. When he looked up, his eyes were dead serious.

"I don't like doing this," he said. "I always want my opponents at their best. But you should throw The Competition."

He rushed on before we could interrupt. "Hear me out! Justin takes pride more seriously than anyone, and he sees his regiment as an extension of himself. That goes for recruitment, too. He wanted you, Percy, and you turned him down. Not only that, you stood up to him without giving ground. I don't think you did anything wrong. He's still livid though."

I snorted. "So Mr. Ego had his toes stepped on. Don't tell me he's going to cry."

"Don't take Justin lightly," Kurt warned. "There's a reason everyone respects the Gold Regiment. Ask your friend."

He pointed to Emmitt, who had heard the words "Justin" and "livid" together and lost the color in his cheeks.

"That's bad, Percy," Emmitt said. "Justin's already always looking for an excuse to mess with us-"

"Why?"

It was Kurt that answered. "Ask your leader some time. Maybe she'll tell you."

"Ah, yeah." Emmitt looked at me apologetically. "Not really my place to say. But believe me- he's really got it out for us. Usually it's not too bad anymore, since he feels like we're beneath him. But back when I joined? It wasn't good. If things end up like that again…"

He trailed off, studying the floor.

"See?" Kurt said. "If you won't take my word for it, take his. I know people like to forget it, but the Regiments are all on the same side. It doesn't sit with me to let anything nasty mess that up."

"Nasty like rigging a match?" I asked.

"Nasty like someone getting maimed when they could've avoided it."

"I can handle myself."

To prove it, I pulled out Aelia and spun it around my fingers.

"Sure, maybe you can. What about the others?" Kurt crossed his arms. With his tank top sleeves and stern expression, he looked like a personal trainer watching as I struggled on a rep. "When Emmitt, or Victoria, or anyone else from the Bronze Regiment is lying on the ground bleeding, are you going to take responsibility for that?"

It was a chilling image… and one that did nothing to change my mind.

"Justin's not the only one with Pride," I said.

Kurt sighed like I'd finally failed the push-up. His arms dropped in defeat "Your mistake. Don't forget- you still have to beat us first."

"Oh, don't worry. We plan to." I smiled "No offense."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Want me to at least carry the box for you? Call it a sympathy gift."

Emmitt nearly hissed at him. "I've got it!"

New plan to take Justin down: get him to try and help Emmitt with something, then watch it all come together.

Actually, on second thought, that would probably be more difficult than just beating him up. He didn't seem much like the charitable (or even mildly helpful) type.

Kurt shrugged and walked away, heading up. "Your loss."

I wanted to come up with something witty as a parting shot, but 'No it'll be yours!' was the best I had, and that didn't really fit the criteria. I settled for watching his back defiantly.

A few minutes later we started moving again. Mercifully nobody else interrupted us, and Emmitt's shoulders held on for the full trip, all the way out into the courtyard.

The fog had rolled in, thick enough to feel almost like rain. The tiny drops gave me an instant energy boost. That was good, because I would be needing all the energy I could get in a minute.

"So, where to now?"

"There." Emmitt nodded to a building built straight into the walls. It was probably thirty feet up, with a spiral staircase going up from the ground and suspended walkways connecting it to a two other smaller buildings, one in either direction. The room itself would've gone for a few million in Manhattan with the size of it, though the volcanic exterior might've turned off some buyers.

If there was one thing the Titan's base had taught me, though, it was that appearances could be deceiving. The Bronze Regiment's base was no exception when Emmitt and I poked our heads through the trapdoor entrance.

Two of the walls were painted copper, probably to signify the Bronze Regiment, but whoever'd done it had dropped the project halfway, so the other two were still a bleak grey. There was a skylight in the ceiling, water dripping from hairline cracks that hadn't been fixed. Thick rubber mats were laid out over half the floor, the type you might see in an Olympic arena or maybe a school gym. The other half of the room, though, was a complete mess.

The mats had been pried up and piled in a corner. In their place was a whole assortment of items- A bookshelf loaded with Steven King paperbacks, Japanese style paper walls leaned against the most comprehensive makeup station I'd ever seen, even a couch and leather recliner. Someone had superglued a Do Not Disturb sign onto the front a yellow sleeping bag. I would've completely missed Aurora bundled up in the sleeping bag, only her mouth showing, if Vera hadn't been hovering nearby.

"We're here," Emmitt announced, although he might as well not have bothered. Everyone was already there.

Behind Aurora and Vera was Alyssa, staring longingly at the makeup station with a sword clutched absently in her hand. Today she'd gone all in on the eyeshadow, so it looked like she was sporting two black eyes. The guy in the ski mask was, well, still in his ski mask, and still at the edge of the group. He was sat lotus style, facing away. Which left a… trench-coated Werewolf?

"Welcome!" Victoria said, trying to split her attention between us and a scroll stretched out in front of her. She had a mug of coffee balanced on her knee, filled to the brim. "Good to have you here- Hey! Lucas, what did I say about masks?"

The gaunt figure pulled off the over-realistic wolf head, careful not to smudge the bloodstains on the teeth.

"Did I frighten you?" Lucas asked.

There was so much hope in his eyes that I said, "You got me. I'll have trouble sleeping tonight."

He giggled. "Wonderful."

"No, not wonderful," Victoria groaned. "Can't you at least act diligent for two seconds, when they first walk in?"

Lucas pointed at the sleeping bag. "Aurora is asleep."

"Please do not remind me. But I'm still going to try. Anyway! Percy, what do you think?"

I looked from the girl fanning her friend's face to the various clutter, wondering how to word my answer.

"Actually," Victoria said quickly, "don't answer that. I got everyone together, but… that was all I could manage. Sorry"

"Don't worry," I said. "That's all I need."

She looked at me curiously. "You have something planned?"

"You could say that."

I had heard a lot about how hopeless the Bronze Regiment was. I had talked a lot, too, about how I was going to whip them into shape. First, I had to see what we were starting with. "Everyone here is free to train right now, right?"

Something in my voice must've been suspicious. Alyssa looked like she wanted to set her sword down before I got any funny ideas about making her use it.

"Myself excluded, yes," Victoria said. "I've got reports to finish."

"Perfect." I clapped my hands. "Hey everyone, let's play a game."

"What kind of game?" Emmitt asked. He'd set the box down, and the possibility of something fun had him vibrating with excitement.

"Ah, apologies, but there seems to have been a miscommunication," Lucas said. "This afternoon I have a movie marathon planned- the best of John Carpenter."

"Don't be like that. It'll be fun, promise. We'll all have a little spar."

"Pass," said Vera. She was fanning the only exposed part of Aurora's face with a little paper fan. "We're busy. And there's nothing in it for us."

Something told me appealing to the beauty of self-improvement wouldn't change their tune. Luckily, that wasn't all I had.

"Who said there's nothing in it for you? Victoria's always bugging you guys to train, right?"

Everyone nodded except Emmitt, who actually trained, and ski mask dude, who never reacted to anything as far as I could tell. Well, and Aurora, but she didn't count.

"It'll be all of you against me. If you win, Victoria won't bug you once for an entire month."

"I can still hear you," Victoria said. "I never agreed to this."

"Not yet. That's why you're going to now. Trust me on this."

She stared at me. Then she took a long sip from her coffee and sighed. "Alright. Deal."

"What do you get out of this?" Vera asked suspiciously. "It's a good deal for us. I don't trust those."

"Maybe I just really want practice?"

She snorted.

"Fine. If I win, you all work your butts off for a month instead. I'm talking everything you can give."

Emmitt raised his hand like he was in class. "I'm okay with that."

"Of course you are." Alyssa said. "You always train anyway. What about the rest of us? It's too risky, I'm out."

"Two weeks, then. If a month is too much, we'll do two weeks instead. Just until the competition is over."

"Still too much," Alyssa argued. "I'm not doing it."

"I'd have to agree," said Lucas. "We are quite content with things the way they are."

"Are you? Are you really?" I stepped into the middle of the room- front and center. "Look, I get that you guys do your own thing. I think that's awesome. But can you look me right in the eyes and say that you're okay with things? I know Justin harasses you."

"Emmitt, you told him that?" Alyssa demanded.

"Don't blame him," I said. "He didn't mean anything by it. And besides, he wasn't lying was he? How the Gold Regiment only leaves you alone now because they think you aren't worth the effort."

Victoria hummed distractedly as she wrote. "It's a bit complicated… but you aren't really wrong, either."

"See?" I took a deep breath. One shot, Percy. You've got this. "I'm sick of Justin's smug face, and I got here a few days ago. Don't tell me you guys aren't interested showing him up."

"I believe the problem is, we can't," said a guy's voice at the back of the room. I hadn't even noticed him tucked mostly behind Vera, but there was… um, what was it again, Jack? Jerry? John! John Smith, the nondescript brunette. "Even if we give it our best, he'll win."

"Exactly what I'm talking about. Right now, your best isn't good enough. That just means your best needs to get better. And the first step is to come at me right here." I shrugged. "Or who knows. Maybe you all beat me, and then you can go on living like you are without any nagging for a whole month. It's all on the table."

The room was dead quiet. Eventually Vera glanced between me and Aurora's sleeping mouth, running calculations on just how many minutes of extra sleeping time she could win for her friend. "I'll take you on," she decided.

John shrugged. "I will too, I guess."

Lucas reached into his trench coat and pulled out huge, spiked cleaver and a ketchup packet. He began decorating the blade with condiment, positioning the smears like bloodstains. "For my movie marathon!"

"You guys are all going to help, right?" Alyssa looked around. "I guess with everyone… Fine! Let's get this done."

"I agree too!" Emmitt said. "I mean I already did, but just for the record, I still agree!"

I broke into a grin. Maybe not the sanest response when outnumbered five to one, but I couldn't help it. From here on out, I actually felt I knew what I was doing.

I chose Anthea to start with.

Lucas came first. His weapons bulky blade didn't slow him down as he swung his cleaver in wild rapid arcs.

I sat back, focusing on defense. Every strike was hard, and there were a lot of them. A few even forced me backward. But I wasn't worried.

For one thing, he fought like she was on a time limit. It was all rushed. No breaks or subtlety. That made blocking easy, not to mention there was no way he could keep it up long. Which he would have to, because his swings were keeping his teammates out of the fight.

The few time Vera and John tried to join in they were forced to back off or be cut by their teammate's blade.

Roughly three minutes later, with the others still forced to hang back, Lucas started to slow down. I retreated again, multiple steps this time, and when he tried to follow he stumbled over his heavy feet. One step to close the distance and I slammed his wrist with the shaft of my spear, forcing him to drop his weapon.

"One down," I said.

The others hesitated. Seeing one taken down without landing a single hit, they seemed to be seriously considering the possibility of losing… and all the hard work that would come after. They shared a look, and I knew that I wouldn't have the luxury of a one-on-one again.

John, Alyssa, and Vera all came at me together. They're teamwork wasn't seamless by any means, but they at least stayed out of each other's way well.

Vera was the main attacker, facing me head on while the others took potshots. Alyssa's clumsy attempts weren't much of a threat, but John's spear was a challenge to dodge. For some reason, every time I took my eyes off of him, it took conscious effort to remind myself he was there, skulking around my blind spots. When one of his stabs came close enough to shear off a few of my hairs, I realized I needed to do something quick.

Targeting the weakest link, I suddenly leapt at Alyssa. Every attack she'd thrown was a stab, like she was scared to get close to. I got rid of her ability to choose.

She squeaked and swung wildly. Too late. I barged a shoulder into her chest and sent her tumbling. Her sword came free, and I kicked it clear across the floor.

A spear came for the side of my head as John tried to capitalize on the opening from my attack. Unfortunately for him, a bowling balls and blunt trauma had gotten me pretty good at dodging things I couldn't see. I ducked, grabbed his wrist, and squeezed. He dropped his weapon with a yelp.

Vera was looking on cautiously, apparently realizing a sneak attack wouldn't end well. I used the pause to catch a breath before spinning Anthea and tapping the point once against the floor. My spear whirred and shrunk into a sword.

Vera's eyes widened. "No fair."

I smirked. "Who said anything about fair?"

Emmitt was standing back, apparently content to wait. So I took my time.

As Vera and I traded blows, I felt her out. She wasn't hopeless. She had a solid guard, and there was real power in her strikes. But compared to Dedalus she might as well have been an amateur.

She fought like winning wasn't on her mind. All she cared about was repelling me, forcing me back, keeping me away. Even her attacks didn't seem intended to disarm as much as to maneuver. When I felt I'd seen all I needed to, I caught her sword with my left hand and finished things this a hilt strike to the solar plexus.

My strike landed. Vera grunted in pain and dropped. After that, it all happened so fast.

Pressure washed over the room. Air felt like mud. My eyelids got heavier and heavier, drooping even as I fought to stay alert, and through my blurry vision I saw it: Aurora was sitting up.

I had never seen her pupils before, but they were kind of impossible to miss now, glowing sleet-blue as they were. With the sleeping bag still around her head, she looked like an extremely ominous inchworm.

"Get away from her!" Aurora commanded.

The words hit me like the silkiest lullaby I could imagine. If Peneus ever put me in a headlock, I imagined this is what it would feel like- strength sapping away, my body refusing to do a thing I wanted as sensation faded. My legs gave out, and I topped forward.

SPLASH!

My hand came down in the puddle under the broken skylight. All at once energy flooded back to me. I sprung up, ready to defend myself…

Aurora was asleep again. As soon as the command was issued she had dropped straight back down and rolled over on her side, snoring soundly like the whole thing had been a figment of my imagination. The others' looks of shock told me it wasn't.

"How did you do that?" Victoria said, her work forgotten. "Nobody's ever resisted one of her commands before."

"Trade secret," I said. "For now. I'll explain after we finish. We're not done yet, after all."

Emmitt looked left, right, and seemed to realize he was the last standing. "Ooh," he said. "Is it my turn?"

I frowned. "Why didn't you attack with the others?"

"I know we were supposed to," he said. "But I don't like that. It doesn't feel fair to gang up on someone else."

"That's… kind of you. Anytime now."

He charged, holding his sword overhead with two hands. He swung down, I stepped out of the way, and he immediately lost his balance, toppling forward. I trapped his sword against the floor with my foot.

"You're out."

"Aww man."

I glanced around. Lucas was brooding at the floor. Alyssa was flat on the ground, her arms stretched out. John and Vera were sitting up, cradling their wrist and side respectively. Emmitt was sprawled on his stomach, Aurora on her side. I looked across the room.

"You wanna try?" I called to the guy meditating in the corner. He hadn't moved since I arrived, but when I addressed he looked over his shoulder, his eyes cracking open. Very slowly, he rose to his feet.

"Your senses are sharp to have noticed me," he said.

"You were kind of just sitting there."

"Indeed, even in my camouflaged state… impressive. Who am I turn away a worthy challenger, especially one who- SNEAK ATTACK!"

He flicked something out of his sleeve and hurled it like a miniature frisbee. John yelped and ducked just in time as a throwing star whizzed by and embedded in the far wall… at least five feet wide of me.

"So you can evade me."

"Dude, you just missed."

"I suppose I will need to meet you, LIKE THIS!"

He drew two short knives, holding them in a reverse grip, and charged with his arms out behind him.

The stance was so goofy that I thought it would be over as quickly as Emmitt's attempt. But when I tried to knock him out with the hilt of my sword, he dodged sharply to the side.

For a second I was worried he was going to hit me. Instead his stab was clumsy and slow, not anything like how he'd dodged. I frowned. Did he not know what he was doing after all?

We fell into a pattern. I would attack, he would slip out of the path, and he would launch a weak attack back at me. After a few minutes, I got sick of trying to figure him out.

Taking advantage of how he hadn't been paying attention earlier, I left my left side open. He jumped at the chance, only for his eyes to widen when I smacked his blade away with the back of my hand. Before he could react, my sword was at his throat.

"Give up?" I asked.

He stared at me. I imagined it had to be steaming hot for him fighting in that goofy ski mask, but for some reason he didn't even seem to be breathing hard.

"A ninja never admits defeat," he said. "But that is only in battle. For spars, to not accept loss is most dishonorable. I yield."

"Uh, cool." I lowered Anfisa. "Are you not used to using knives?"

"Kunai," he corrected. "A knife is a far less stealthy weapon. I will have nothing to do with them. Why do you ask?"

"The way you were moving, you clearly know how to fight. But every time you attacked it was super clumsy. I wondered if you learned with a different weapon."

Even with how much skin he was hiding I saw him tense. "Never. Shuriken and Kunai are my weapons. My only weapons. Now, you were a worthy spar, but if you will excuse me I must return to my meditation. Enlightenment will not achieve itself."

I grinned. "I don't think so. You've got another commitment."

"What would that be?"

"It's training time, everyone!"

Realization that they'd lost swept the room. Alyssa covered her face. Vera punched the floor. I hoped she didn't get a splinter doing it. I wasn't looking to take an impromptu nap courtesy of an overprotective narcoleptic.

"I did not agree to this," Mr. Ninja said.

"The others did though. If you all beat me you got the month off, but if I won everyone trains till The Competition is over." I smirked. "You tried to fight, right? That means you take the forfeit too."

It wasn't necessarily the fairest thing to do, but we needed as many people as possible if we wanted to win. I was willing to be a little underhanded for that.

"…Fine. My honor would not allow me to shirk a deal."

Around the room only Emmitt would meet my eyes. Victoria was back to scribbling on her reports, but I could see a small smile on her face.

Two weeks wasn't a lot of time. But it was something.

Time to get to work.

(-)

Chapter Text

I Give Out Free Baths

It's amazing how hard you can work at something, covering every detail, and think you've done a pretty decent job… all while feeling worried like crazy.

The Bronze Regiment might've been weirdos, but they kept their promises. For five days they'd been up early and around late training. I got the feeling Lucas would rather slip a millipede in my bed than go through another drill, and Alyssa's thoughts about me were definitely less than family-friendly. If Ninja Kid had even a little of the stealth skills he claimed to I might've found a knife in my back while I slept.

But as long as they were putting in the effort I could deal with all that, so we were all good.

Better than good, actually. A few times Lucas had actually shown some teamwork, and just the day before Vera sparred with actual aggression. It was more than I'd hoped for.

And I was still absolutely terrified.

Even on the best of days, keeping still was a challenge. Right now it was impossible. So I was pacing.

"Would you stop already?"

I glanced at my unwilling host. Bianca was at her desk, pen in hand, not looking at me.

"Sorry," I said, still pacing. "I've got a lot of energy today. There's a lot going on."

She pulled her pen sharply across the page. "I wouldn't know."

"You could know," I said. "If you just talked to Luke…"

She snorted. "Subtle."

I blushed. "Yeah, uh, whatever."

Morning guard duty had become a daily routine. For some reason, Luke thought we were a good match and put me on the job permanently. I was fine with that, considering I would've asked for it even if he hadn't.

Maybe I was crazy, or just butting my head where it didn't belong, but I felt for the younger demigod. I couldn't shake the impression I was looking at a less fortunate version of myself.

And wasn't that brutal, considering how close my own fortunes were to rock bottom.

"What're you writing?" I asked, only half expecting an answer.

"If I tell you will you stop pacing?"

"I'll try."

She sighed. "Better than nothing."

I approached cautiously. It seemed like it could be a trap, but when I got close all I found was an ink picture of a woman.

Now, I was no artist, but even I could tell this was good. The woman looked in her thirties or maybe a little older. Black hair hung to her shoulders. She was smiling warmly, like she'd just invited you in for cookies. If I couldn't see the pen in Bianca's hand, I might've thought it was a black and white photograph. Not only was every dot perfect, even the tiniest details were there, like a slight dimple and a bump on the tip of her nose.

"That's amazing," I said. "You did all that with a pen?"

"I've got plenty of time to practice. I mean I better be decent by now." Bianca tried to play it off, but I could see the praise had her excited. "I've got a bunch more, if you're that impressed with it."

She started flicking through pages, showing them off like a slideshow. There were soldiers rushing across the battlefield, a family crammed into a minivan, even a guy charging a Drakon with a pitchfork. Then there was the woman.

Sometimes her hair was tied in a bun, sometimes it was hanging loose. She wasn't always smiling like the first picture. Sometimes she was serious, waving a scolding finger. In one she was singing while washing dishes. One in three pictures was her, every one of them more detailed than any of the others.

"That woman," I asked, "who is she?"

"Hm? Who…" Bianca frowned. "She's someone I remember."

"Remember? From where?"

Her face scrunched up, like she was fighting a migraine. "She's, um, she's… Well she's a person."

Bianca said it like it were a proper answer, and the strain seemed to fade. I let it go, worried her head would pop if I pushed her any further.

She flicked through some more pictures as I watched. There were lots of them, and it helped keep my mind busy. We were getting toward the bottom of the stack when I saw something that made me say, "Wait!"

Bianca stopped. "What? What is it?"

"That picture! Go back two."

"They're my pictures," she said. "Is that how you ask for something?"

"Go back two, please."

"If you insist."

She flipped back, and my breath caught.

I thought maybe it was a mistake. I'd told myself there was no way. Bianca never met her, so it didn't make any sense at all.

But that picture, close to the bottom of the stack, was definitely Andi. Her unique outfit, her spear on the ground next to her… it wasn't as detailed as the pictures of the woman, but there was no mistaking it.

Bianca had drawn Andi exactly how she died.

"How did you do this?"

Bianca shot me a 'what?' look. "With a pen? I mean the shading can be a bit tricky, but as long as you practice-"

"No," I shook my head. "I mean this scene. How did you know about it?"

"Know about it? I just imagined it. I sat down to draw, and this came to my head." She looked at me suspiciously. "You're being weird."

Imagined it? That was impossible. Maybe she dreamed about it, but if that were the case, she should've recognized me. All she had seen was Andi, just as she died. I didn't want to admit it, but it kind of freaked me out.

There was no way I was saying that out loud though.

"I just thought it was cool. You know, like a defeated warrior type of vibe."

Bianca didn't look totally sold. She returned to flipping through drawings with a shake of her head. "Boys."

That evening the whole Bronze Regiment gathered at the edge of the main courtyard. Everyone was dressed for a fight – leather breastplates and armguards with plumed horsehair helmets – except for aurora, who was snoozing on Vera's shoulders piggyback style. My joining had taken the Bronze Regiment's numbers to nine, one more than was needed for The Competition. Almost by default, Aurora had been selected to sit out, since nobody could keep her awake long enough to swing a sword.

I asked, "Everybody ready?"

"Not at all," said Emmitt. His breastplate looked about three sizes too big, with gaps at the armpit big enough for a rat to crawl through. "But I've prepared myself mentally."

"To win?"

"To not cry," he said. "That's a type of winning, I think."

It didn't seem like the others were any more eager, and I grimaced.

"Look on the bright side," Victoria told me. "They took the Silver Regiment down first, which means we should still have plenty of time before it starts to find some confidence."

"Not quite, I'm afraid. Your guide is right here."

As I spotted our guide strolling across the courtyard, my first thought was: someone's overdressed. The second was, I know him!

It was the man from my dream, the one who'd been having a casual chat with a box. He was just as tall, scarred, and confident as he had been in my dream, but instead of casualwear he was decked out in a sharp tuxedo. His walk was perfectly even, like the length of each step had been planned out in advance. His eyes picked me out, and I thought he must somehow have recognized me too, even though we never actually met.

Then I realized I was the only one who hadn't bowed their head.

"My lord," Victoria said.

I leaned over to Emmitt. "Should I know this guy?"

Emmitt looked at me like I was crazy, but the man answered first.

"Percy Jackson," he said.

"That's me. But, uh, who're you?"

I was a little worried he'd get offended, but he just chuckled. The sound was pleasant, thick and smooth like milk.

"I do so love a forthright personality. My name is Prometheus, hero."

"You're the fire guy," I said.

He clicked his tongue. "Just once I would like to be the forethought guy, or the champion of humans. Better than vulture guy, I suppose. A pleasure to meet you Son of the Sea."

"Likewise," I said.

I wasn't sure yet if I were lying or not.

Prometheus walked through us, heading down the hill, and we fell into line behind him.

The horizon was just shifting from orangish to dark, lights flicking on across the cityscape beneath us. With the water colored orange by the sun and Marin all lit up, our destination seemed highlighted – the shadowy expanse of Douglas Fir forest coating the base of the mountain.

We followed the steep, dusty fire road, trying not to trip over protruding rocks.

"Do you always have a titan for a guide?" I asked, eying Prometheus's back.

Victoria glanced over. "This is a first. Usually it's a monster or something. But think about that later! You remember the plan, right?"

I nodded. "Not like there's much to forget."

After some debate, we'd made the call to keep it simple. Complicated formations or multi-step strategies would only blow up in our face.

As soon as the match started I would go on offense, searching for Iron regiment kids to capture while Vera and Victoria watched my back. The others would hide the vase, then themselves. We were no match for them man-for-man, so we'd force them to take on our best fighters. That was the idea anyway.

Which meant that if I went down we were done for. My joints felt stiff with nerves I couldn't shake. It felt ridiculous worrying about something like this when I'd faced giants and furies, but emotions didn't always make sense.

We were crossing a burbling creek in a lush gulley when I saw the first orange dots ahead of us. Before long there were tons of them, like lines of fireflies weaving between the trees. With the lights came faint noises- cheering, cackling, and bellowing growls.

The noises of monsters.

"The audience has arrived already," Prometheus said.

"Audience?" I asked.

He looked back with a smile. "Of course. You didn't think monsters would miss a spectacle of violence, did you? They feel thwarted by the lack of murder, I believe, but 'better than nothing' was the final verdict."

I glanced at the shadowy forest either side of us. "If they wanted to stare at something totally dark they should've just closed their eyes."

"You would be surprised how many see clearly in the dark. Quite the shock for the unprepared would've-been hero." Prometheus chuckled. "If it's lighting you're worried about, though, you may be in for a surprise. Now, I suspect it's unnecessary, but procedure dictates I remind you of the rules one final time."

"Do not be caught maiming. Pay mind to the border. You can't miss it, I promise you. You will play best of three rounds, each of which will likely be decided off whether you can protect this:"

He dug into his pocket and drew out a vase. In his palm it looked tiny, but when he passed it off to Victoria I saw it was big enough to fit a baseball inside. The sides were decorated with repeating Greek letters. To hope is to be victorious, my mind supplied.

"You are free to hide or protect it as you wish, so long as you pay mind to rule number two. All tactics are fair play unless otherwise specified. Any questions?"

I raised my hand.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson?"

"You said we can't leave the boundaries. Does that mean we can use what's outside, as long as we don't step over the border?"

"Gosh, I suppose that would just about work." He smiled like someone rewatching their favorite show, knowing what was coming next. "Interesting choice. I do love outside the box thinking."

"Thanks," I said. "I think."

The fire road leveled out just as we got to the first spectators. The ones in our way parted and kneeled. Vera paused to roll out a sleeping bag and lay Aurora inside, the sleeping girl never stirring even slightly. As soon as Vera was finished, our group walked straight into the crowd.

The noise was like an NFL match, but imagine every other spectator had the oversized lungs of a Laistrygonian. It smelled of mud, reptiles, and spoiled milk; a combination that made you feel like puking even without nerves jamming up your stomach. Monsters hemmed us in, their torches shining in our eyes, jeering filling the air.

Then all of a sudden, it was gone. We stepped across a golden line on the ground no wider than a string, and the only smells and sounds were from the forest and our group.

"We can't be having distracted performers," Prometheus said as if reading my mind. "A bit of magic works wonders. A show is only as good as its stage."

"This one could do with some work," I said. The noise thing was a neat trick, but so far that was the only thing separating the arena from any other stretch of unlit woods.

Prometheus just winked over his shoulder.

It was only a minute or two later that the titan stopped and faced us, his hands fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Now then, all," he said. "We've arrived."

He finished adjusting his wardrobe, snapped his fingers, and something bright orange flared to my right. For a second I was certain a wildfire had caught at the worst possible time. Then I realized the light was stagnant- a wall of flickering oranges and reds, shining through the gaps in the trees.

"The halfway boundary," Prometheus supplied. "You aren't to cross it until the match begins. A lovely style for it, no?"

We mumbled a tossed-together collection of nods and yes's, not sure what he was getting at.

Prometheus beamed as brightly as his flame wall. "Thank you kindly. It's my own work, you see. A reminder. When I first created your kind you were consigned to the dark. It was a scrabbling, miserable time, but even then I saw potential in you. I said, 'They can be so much more, with just a bit of aid!'. So I borrowed fire from Olympus and shared it of free goodwill."

His hand came up to his face, absently tracing the length of a scar with his index finger. "For that Zeus had me chained to a rock for a millennia, beasts pecking away my skin. Not fun, let me tell you. But I escaped. Do you know how?"

"Hercules freed you," said Emmitt. "During his eleventh labor, while traveling to The Garden of the Hesperides."

"Absolutely correct. Hercules, the hero of the age. A mortal man. Do you know what my first thought was?" Prometheus paused rubbing his scars to wipe a tear from his eye. "My, how you've grown."

"With all due respect…" Victoria looked at the ground, tugging her collar. "Don't take this the wrong way, sir, but is there a reason you're telling us this?"

"Indeed there is," said Prometheus. "Man is my child. The entire race – your presidents and criminals, your riffraff and athletes, the unremarkable and the beautiful alike – when I look at any of them, I see the clay these hands fashioned. I mourn every death. Celebrate every birth. You, each of you, is in my heart."

He looked so earnest, his grey eyes sparkling like stars in the moonlight. It was like his voice was patting me on the back, shaking my hand, and giving me a hug all at the same time. But part of me held back.

See, I remembered another story from Dedalus's lessons. Before Prometheus ever nabbed fire, he pulled one over on Zeus, tricking him into accepting the bones and fat from sacrifices. Prometheus did it for humans, making sure they got the best cuts of meat, which I was grateful for and all on my ancestors' behalf, but to be able trick the king of the gods had to take one hell of a silver tongue.

Point was, I had a feeling he could tell you he was going to stab you in the head and make it sound like it was for your own good.

"But why tell us this now?" I asked.

"Because you are struggling," he answered smoothly. "Your regiment is considered the least of them. Nothing is going your way. But remember: I looked at man tripping over himself in the dark and saw the hero he could become. I say the same about you now- this regiment can grow to become so much more."

"So take your chance! Step out and give all you have, see where it is your best will take you! Only when you've nothing more to give will you truly recognize yourself!"

Each sentence was said with more vigor than the one before it, until he was shouting by the end. Despite my reservations, I felt energy bubble up inside.

"Go, and prove my faith wise!" He pumped his fist in the air, and almost without realizing it we did the same. He smiled as his form started turning translucent. "My work here is done. And remember, you never know what opportunities may lay in wait for those who perform well."

He shimmered and disappeared in a haze of light particles. There was something peculiar in that parting line, and it wasn't just that his eyes had been locked onto me.

But there was time to worry about that later.

I clapped my hands to jolt the others back to reality.

"A speech from a titan, and he even said he believes in us. I know it's all pretty distracting, but think about that later. We've got a job to do."

"He's right." Victoria stepped forward. "You all know what you're supposed to do. Give everything you have to not be found. If that's impossible, have some pride. Don't go down easy. Emmitt, take this and hide it along the way."

She handed to vase to him and he took it tentatively, as if afraid it would bite.

"Me?" said Emmitt. "I mean, I'll do my best."

Victoria smiled at him. "I know you will." Then she raised her voice. "Alright, everyone! You heard Prometheus. You know what we're here to do. There's only one thing I care about, and I don't care how we do it. Tonight we win!"

She stomped her foot and the regiment scattered leaving only her, me, and Vera- the attack force.

We didn't speak for the next few minutes, lost in our own heads. We weren't kept waiting long.

The golden line we'd stepped over shown and rose, light forming walls and, eventually, a dome that blocked off the night sky. A one-way barrier lighting the arena as brightly as if it were midafternoon. Right at the center, high above our heads so you couldn't miss it from anywhere, a three-dimensional hour glass took shape, all the sand settled in the bottom half. A voice we'd just heard a whole lot of filled the forest, rumbling from every direction.

"Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and demons of all ages. My name is Prometheus, and it is my honor to be your announcer for the fifth installment of The Competition."

Whatever noise cancelling magic had been worked on the arena cut out, letting us hear the roar from the crowd. The only way you'd hear them louder, I imagined, was if someone got shish kebabbed. I was in no hurry to volunteer.

"Exciting, exciting, I know. Settle down now. First, to introduce the players. With a record of three wins and four losses, the Iron Regiment is undefeated against their current opponents. Let's hear it for them!"

The cheers rose up again, but less this time. It seemed cheering for demigods was less interesting than cheering for them fighting each other.

"And, lining up opposite them, the Bronze Regiment. Their record is… On second thought, probably shouldn't read that. I suppose the only way they can go is up."

The crowd was silent, except for one Dracaena in the back who screamed, "Win! I have Drachmasss on you!"

How was that for a vote of confidence?

"But," Prometheus started up again, "before we get started, a word from my very special guest. Please welcome my co-commentator, Justin Petty! Say hi, Justin."

"Hello everyone." Compared to Prometheus's velvety voice, Justin's sounded high pitched and nasally. I wasn't biased. Not at all.

"And now that that is out of the way," Prometheus said, "We're all set to go. Try not to die, demigods. We- well, I would hate to see it at least. And if you do succumb to your wounds, make sure the audience has a good view. Everyone, begin!"

A drum beat thundered through the woods, echoing off the bark. The hourglass flipped on its head. I took a deep breath and turned to the others.

"Any second thoughts?"

Vera looked like she'd rather be back napping with Aurora – or maybe just anywhere – rather than here. She pulled her sword free from her belt. "Too late for those now."

Victoria shouldered her shield with a fire in her eyes that I hadn't seen since her spat with Justin. "Let's get them."

We took off at a jog.

Going too fast wouldn't do any good. Showing up to a fight exhausted was a fast track to getting embarrassed. As long as we found the Iron Regiment before they found our teammates, that was a job well done.

I thanked the gods – or the titans, realistically – for whatever magic was lighting the woods. Without golden dome lighting the arena I would've already sprained both ankles on undergrowth before seeing any action. As it was I could easily dodge the tallest roots, and a slash or two was all it took to cut through the bushes we couldn't slip around.

We caught the first opponent alone. It was a boy, probably around fifteen, with shaggy hair and alert brown eyes. I didn't recognize him, which wasn't surprising since their leader was the only member I knew.

The dude's eyes widened when we burst out from around a tree, and he swung his sword on reflex. I swung back harder, knocking it from his hands with a strike right above the hilt.

He just had time to scream, "Contact!" into the night before a gold glow washed over him. Greek letters formed in the air above his head, labeling him, Prisoner. His body stiffened, joints locking. Somehow I knew just from looking that he couldn't move anymore if he tried to.

His callout had worked though. Already I could hear plants crunching as his teammates rushed toward us. There was a bit of space where we were, an above average gap between trees. I stomped a few bushes flat to keep them out of the way, then stepped to the middle of the space.

"Here we go," I said to the others. "Make sure they don't get behind me. If you see a chance to take one down, do it, but don't gamble. Keep yourselves safe if possible."

Vera sighed. Victoria watched the woods like a hawk, her lips pressed into a line.

This time there wouldn't be the luxury of a one on one fight, or getting to take the enemy by surprise. When reinforcements arrived there were five of them, grouped up and already in formation.

I grinned. "Over half your team just for us? I knew you liked me."

Kurt shook his head. His helmet was shadowing his face, making his nose look like a kite behind a cloud. His armor looked custom made and heavy, personalized studs offering extra protection in animal-shaped clusters. The biggest design, right in the center of the chest so you couldn't miss it, was a dolphin with a lightning bolt behind it. "It's how you play the game," he said. "Outnumber, then overwhelm. At the end of the day, taking you down is for your own good."

"What's this?" Prometheus's voice echoed around us. "The leaders are face to face, with the Bronze Regiment's rookie between them. With half the players involved, this clash may well decide the match. What do you think?"

"Hmm," Justin said. "I think it'll end here for the Bronze Regiment. They're outnumbered, and Victoria has a tendency to crack under pressure. Percy's good with a sword, but Kurt's better. I don't see a way out of this for them."

I considered myself pretty good with smack talk, both riling up opponents and throwing off attempts to do it to me. But for some reason Justin's words sent a lance of irritation through my gut. I was a second away from sprinting into a reckless charge when Victoria jabbed my ribs with her elbow.

"Ignore him," she told me. "His dad's Zelus, god of rivalry and jealousy. He's a master at throwing you off with his words."

I took a deep breath. Now that she pointed it out, the irritation felt hollow, like the emotions had been crammed into me instead of building up inside. That made them easier to ignore. "Thanks."

Victoria hefted her shield. "Look alive. Here they come."

The Iron Regiment charged in a Christmas tree formation- three at the back, two in front of them, and one taking point. The kid in front held a full body shield while the three behind him poked spears around like a miniature phalanx. Just like we planned, I stepped up to meet them alone.

In the background, the commentators carried on.

"What's your opinion my lord?" asked Justin. "Who walks away from this?"

All three spears thrust the moment I was in range, and I danced right, forcing them to reorient. They did so frustratingly quickly, Kurt barking orders from the base of the formation.

"My thoughts may spoil the audience's fun," said Prometheus. "I've a knack for picking winning sides."

The spears came again, their wielders walking forward as they stabbed, forcing me back toward a girthy pine tree. They wanted to pin me with nowhere to run. I could see their plan, but if I couldn't do anything about it in the next fifteen seconds that counted for squat.

"Come on, sir," said Justin. "You can give us more than that can't you? Think of the fledgling monsters in the audience. Won't you share a bit of your wisdom?"

I reached back with my free hand, feeling the distance between me and the tree. Only a foot. Seeing my escape route cut off, my opponents got eager and stabbed as hard as they could.

I ducked.

"Fine, I suppose." Prometheus's voice sounded reluctantly smug. "I won't share the winner, but I will say I see the result being quite the wash."

Two of the spears lodged in the tree, stuck to the base of their blades. The third remained free, its wielder holding back at the last second. Not that it did them any good. With a quick swipe I severed the shaft before it could retreat behind the protection of the shield.

"Back!" shouted Kurt. "Adopt formation four!"

They started backpedaling but I wasn't about to let them go. The one closest to me fell behind the others, weighed down by his bulky shield. I slammed the shield with my shoulder and his momentum took him straight onto his butt. A quick tap of the sword against his unprotected chest and he joined the kid we'd jumped at the start, glowing and paralyzed.

"The first goes down," said Prometheus, but even the magic projecting his voice could barely make it heard over the roar from the crowd. Whether they were cheering my victory or raging that I wasn't maimed yet I couldn't tell. It was an answer I was fine going without.

Formation four, it turned out, was a fancy word for a semi-circle. They spread out, preparing to come from different directions. But when the five came to charge, the two at the back found themselves cut off by Victoria and Vera.

I met the other three, including Kurt. Don't get me wrong, I was mighty glad I wasn't facing five, but even three in open combat had me nervous. I was pretty good with a sword, I knew that, but all the fighters I'd trained with- Thalia, Luke, Dedalus, Andi… any of them would've had me beaten halfway to the Underworld in minutes if they got the chance to spread out and surround me.

Yet fighting the Iron Regiment it was like they weren't trying.

Kurt swung high while the others swung low from the sides. I parried Kurt and hopped out of the way of the others. They tried again, and I evaded the same way.

None of Thalia's athleticism or Andi's experience. Wasted movements that couldn't be further from Dedalus's streamlined style, straightforward attacks completely unlike Luke's unpredictable ideas. Kurt was strong and competent, nothing more. The others weren't even that.

Ten seconds, then twenty, then thirty. A full minute passed, and still they hadn't hit me. If I wasn't so surprised I might have gotten some hits of my own in. I was stuck, but successfully, playing defense.

"And Jackson remains elusive," narrated Prometheus. "Three of them, including the leader, and it amounts, so far, to nothing. Any change in your opinion, Justin?"

"He's gotten lucky," said Justin. "Kurt is too scared of risk. He's chosen to play it slow and careful. Make no mistake though, the jaws are tightening around the weaker competitor."

Now that I recognized it for what it was, Justin's taunts didn't affect me. I threw it off. The booing of the crowd, frustrated that nobody was on the ground yet? Tuned out. I knew what needed to happen. I imagined a third arm sprouting from my navel stretching off into the night, grasping for what I'd been keeping my eye on since the walk downhill: the creek.

Vera and Victoria were doing well. Defending was Vera's specialty, and she wasn't giving any ground. Victoria was doing even better. In a couple of minutes she would have the guy facing her captured if the cuts on his arms and side were anything to go by.

A few minutes was a long time though. A lot could happen. The Iron regiment's last member could reinforce them, tipping things in their favor. One of us could slip up, and the others would be overwhelmed. We need things to end sooner rather than later, and to make that happen we needed some flair.

My third arm found a handhold. It was distant, and grabbing the water made my abs clench, like I was doing a sit up with a truck on my chest. It was coming though. I could feel it.

Fighting was harder while splitting my focus. My parries got clumsy. One of Kurt's swings actually grazed my shoulder.

"See?" came Justin's voice. "He's tiring. Soon it'll be over."

Oh shove it, I thought. The startled shouts from one side of spectators told me what was coming a second before it happened, and my face split into a grin.

Eat this.

Water hit like a dozen firehoses turned up to max on a single spot. The three in front of me were slammed to the ground, their weapons knocked from their hands along with the air from their lungs. I tapped each with my sword, and the Iron regiment was down to three.

The two fighting Vera and Victoria had stopped, frozen as their leader and friends were crushed out of nowhere. I flicked my hand and twin spouts fired into them, propelling them off their feet. The girls quickly finished the job and I let out a sigh, releasing the water to saturate the ground.

My lungs were heaving, and I felt a headache forming already, the kind you get after staring at a screen for too long. Like your brain was telling you it had focused more than it was meant to.

"Down, down, down, down, and down," Prometheus listed off. "Kurt is out, along with all but one from his regiment. Ladies and gentlemen, things are nearing a close."

"Was that legal?" Justin's voice was filled with sickly-sweet concern, like he actually gave a flying whoop about the Iron Regiment. "That water came from outside the arena. That seems like cheating to me. And what about the force of it? We're lucky nobody's head was crushed."

"It certainly is borderline," Prometheus said. "Jackson thought so too, which is why he checked it's legality with his guide prior to the start."

"Oh? And what did the guide say?"

I could tell Prometheus was smiling, just from the sound of his voice. "I believe that I said it was fair game."

"I… see." Maybe I was crazy, but Justin almost sounded happy. "Well, let's see if they can finish the job."

That gave me a jolt. Right, the round wasn't actually over.

"They've still got one more," I said.

Vera and Victoria nodded. Even though they'd been spared from the bulk of it, spray from the water's impact still had them dripping.

"We'll drop back to defend the vase," Victoria said. "Breaking it is their only chance at winning. There isn't long left anyway."

Looking at the sky proved her right. The floating hour glass was two-thirds empty. We started jogging- slower, this time, because that stunt with the creek had taken more out of me than I was comfortable with admitting. We only made it a few steps before a drumbeat stopped us dead.

"The round is over!" Prometheus suddenly called. "As the Iron regiment has no more players free, the win goes to the Bronze Regiment!"

No sooner were those words said than someone slapped me on the back, hard enough felt it through my armor.

"Let's go!" Victoria yelled. She was grinning like a lunatic, hopping in place. "We win. Win! Yes!"

Vera was more subdued. "There's still another round."

"Oh hush. Let me have a moment. This is further than we've ever gotten, aren't you excited?"

Vera looked away. "Maybe a little."

"There will be a ten-minute break," Prometheus announced. "Regroup with your teammates. Treat their wounds and catch your breath. Move your vase to a new location. Or don't. The decision is up to you, but the moment ten minutes are up, the second round is live. Until then don't be caught in enemy territory or you'll find yourself disqualified, so do avoid anything unsavory."

"And remember," Justin added, "nothing's over yet."

We found Lucas first- or maybe I should say he found us, slipping out from a crevice in a trunk and shaking off the brown cloak he'd been wrapped up in for camouflage. It didn't take much to see how he'd escaped being found.

"Your good at that," I told him.

He smiled. "The most frightening surprise is the one they don't see coming. Halloween taught me that."

Alyssa and John had hidden together. Or Alyssa had hidden, at least. John just stood by a tree.

"People rarely notice me," he explained with a shrug. "I figured they would just run straight past."

The last ones to group up were Emmitt and Ninja Kid. Ninja kid was leaning on Emmitt, walking unsteadily. He had a hand pressed to the side of his mask, and when he pulled it away, the palm was red. Victoria and Lucas helped lean him against a tree, relieving a sweaty Emmitt.

"What happened?" Victoria demanded, pulling a cold pack from a bag on her waist and pressing it against Ninja Kid's temple.

"He tried fighting one of them," Emmitt said, breathing hard. "They got close to where he was hiding and he tried to do a sneak attack, but he stepped on a twig and they heard him coming."

"No," Ninja Kid groaned. His voice sounded distracted, like only a part of his brain could focus on forming words. "Wasn't a twig… forgot to suppress my aura."

Emmitt took pity on him. "Uh, what he said. Anyway, the two of them fought, and Po was kinda losing."

"Hold on," I said. "Who's Po?"

The looks everyone gave me made me feel like I was back in math class giving ridiculous answers.

"This is Po," Victoria said, nodding to the guy she was tending. "What did you think his name was?"

"Ninja kid?"

"Not ninja!" moaned Po. "Shinobi."

"Finish the story," Victoria instructed Emmitt. "What happened next?"

Emmitt blushed and squeezed his fingers. "I saw what was happening, cause I was hiding nearby. I know we were supposed to hide but I couldn't just watch him get beaten up. I rushed out to help, except… I wasn't fast enough. Po got smashed with a hilt right before I hit the other guy in the back."

"Hey, you did good!" I squeezed Emmitt's shoulder. "You captured one. Be proud of that!"

"Should've done it faster," Emmitt mumbled. "If I hadn't been so worried, or if I'd made up my mind sooner, he wouldn't've gotten all hurt."

Po lurched forward. "Do not trouble yourself, comrade. Shinobi are prepared to sacrifice their life for every mission!"

"Alright now, let's calm down. Nobody's dying tonight." Victoria hauled Po to his feet, then caught him as he started to topple forward. "Lucas, help me with him. We need to escort him to the boundary."

"You can substitute people between rounds?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. But look at him; he can barely stand up, making him fight won't do us any good. Besides, who would we replace him with? Aurora? We couldn't keep her awake in the middle of the day, let alone now. We'll just go with seven."

That logic was hard to argue with. "What about the vase? Do we move it or keep it where it was?"

"Definitely move it. Just because they didn't capture it there's no reason to take chances. Percy, John, and Emmitt, you guys go hide the vase somewhere new. Vera, you and Alyssa help me with Po. You're used to carrying people."

Vera sniffed. "Don't compare him to Aurura. He's not even a hundredth as cute."

"We meet back here when we're all done," I said, and Victoria nodded.

The two groups split.

At first Emmitt was carrying the vase, but he passed it off to me as soon as he could.

"Better off not in my hands," he said. "I'd probably drop it, or squeeze it the wrong way or something."

He laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. More nervous and self-deprecating, afraid that if he didn't add it we would think he was being as serious as he was. I accepted the vase anyway.

It was the first time I'd held the item I just fought six people to protect. The sides were smooth and chilly, a cool (literally) ten degrees colder than the night air. With my fingers pressed against it I could feel vibrations in my flesh, like something with a million volts of electricity was squirming inside, desperate to burst out. I held the thing a little tighter.

"How should we hide it?" I asked. "If we aren't defending it we need a really good spot."

"Pick somewhere average," suggested John. "Everyone walks by those on their way to check the best places."

"Does anyone ever find these things?" I couldn't help asking. "There's like, a billion trees to choose from. It seems impossible."

Emmitt shrugged. "There are tricks to it. If there's a bunch of defenders set up, the vase is probably around there. Spying is popular. That's why they guide us separately, to make it harder. One time, the gold regiment even got a kid to tell them mid-match."

I laughed incredulously. "What'd they do, bribe him with a candy bar?"

Both of them shivered.

"You're better off not knowing," said Emmitt.

"Wasn't pretty," John confirmed.

I frowned. After being subjected to Andi's idea of bedtime stories there weren't many things that could get me unsettled. "We face them next. I need to know their tricks before then or I might end up blabbing away our secrets."

"This match isn't over," John said. "Focus on that first."

"But-"

"Shhh!"

I was so surprised at Emmitt of all people cutting me off that I didn't think twice about shutting up. He stopped, holding up his hand and shutting his eyes. A moment later they popped open.

"Somebody's following us," he whispered.

I reigned in the urge to glance around. If he was right, there was no reason to give away that we were on to them.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," he said. "They stepped on a sapling. Those things scream like crazy. Even I wouldn't miss that."

Scream? I shook my head. Now wasn't the time.

Emmitt had just said spying was popular. Prometheus mentioned something about it too when talking about the halftime break. I didn't need to be a genius to guess who was skulking behind us- or at least who they worked for.

"Keep walking," I instructed. "We'll play it cool. In a minute, on my queue, we split up and you 'stumble' onto them. Can you do that? We'll back you up right after."

"I can do that," said Emmitt. "But if I mess it up, sorry."

We walked for a minute that felt longer, trying not to look back. Eventually I said, "Around here's good, guys. Let's split up and find a spot."

Emmitt and I made eye contact and I winked. With a gulp he slunk off to the left, beginning to ark around to where our tail must've been.

John was prodding trees and rustling bushes, and I followed his example. It would be way too suspicious if we stayed standing around. But I kept Emmitt in the corner of my eye, waiting to sprint over when he needed help.

It didn't take long. Just a minute after splitting off Emmitt let out a battle cry like a strangled frog and tackled something behind a tree.

I was over to him in a flash, John on my heels, but it was over by the time we got there. Emmitt was squirming around chanting, "Got you got you got you" while wrestling a paralyzed kid from the iron regiment.

Our little stalker's sandy blond hair was fully displayed, no helmet in sight. Her face was twisted in surprise and probably irritation. Her sleeves and pants were all camo. Her cheeks were face painted brown to blend in. If it weren't for Emmitt, I would never have noticed her. Something told me this wasn't an improvised tactic.

"I think you got her," I pointed out.

Emmitt quit his wrestling efforts and looked up at me, breathing hard. "I did?"

"Unless you can see a different meaning in that than I can."

I pointed to a word above the girl's head, right where the prisoner label had gone during the match. This one, though, said 'disqualified'.

"She's out," John agreed. "She was as soon as you touched her. That counts as being caught cheating."

Emmitt stared at him. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I was fighting for my life over here!"

"I thought you knew." John shrugged. "You've done this before."

"But nobody ever bothered spying on us then. How was I supposed to know the rules?"

"Prometheus announced it."

"That was what he meant by that? I thought it was…"

I whistled to get their attention. "Here and now, guys. We still have to figure out what to do with this."

I tossed the vase in the air and caught it, making both of them wince.

"Could you not do that?" Emmitt pleaded. "I'm nervous enough already without worrying about you dropping it."

"Give me some ideas on where to hide it and I'll be glad to get it out of my hands." There was something about the item that gave me chills, like I was holding a live grenade. "We're running out of time if we want to do this well."

Rather than looking at me, John was staring at the girl we'd captured. "You know," he said, "why don't you two handle that. I've got an idea."

"An idea about what?" I asked, but he'd already turned and jogged off. I looked at Emmitt who shrugged back.

"Let him go," Emmitt said. "He probably knows what he's doing."

In the end we settled on an oak tree, following John's advice- the only thing abnormal about it was a slightly wider than average trunk. Clusters of roots were growing out of the ground, and shrubs grew around it on three sides. We shoved the vase into the thickest shrub and covered it with a few fallen leaves.

We were heading for the meet up point when a familiar drum beat hit.

I cursed and looked up. Sure enough, the hour glass had flipped over. The second round was starting.

"Shit," I said. "We lost too much time dealing with the spy."

Emmitt was pale, glancing around like he expected Kurt and company to steam out of the bushes at any second. "What do we do?"

"Go and hide," I told him. "I'll meet up with the others somehow, then we'll run the same strategy as before."

I reverted my sword to Aelia for ease of movement and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way my shirt clung to my sides. The creek stunt had been even more of a gut punch than I'd expected.

Emmitt wasn't ignoring it, though. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look all that good. Are you sure this is going to work?"

I flashed a reassuring smile. "I know I might not look it, but I've seen some stuff. I can handle fifteen minutes of fighting where they aren't even out to kill me."

"Just don't get hurt," Emmitt finally said. "I'm kind of an expert on that, so trust me when I say it's no fun. Better to just run away if you have to, that's what I think."

And he scurried into the bushes with a final nod. I frowned after him, then shook myself.

I had a job to do and, warnings or not, I was the only one that could do it.

It was surprisingly hard to figure out directions in the forest. The entire arena was a circle, and intentional or not there weren't any landmarks to keep oriented. Sure, if you could find the halfway point there was a little glowing line, but that only helped if you could get there.

I wasn't sure how fast to go. It was tempting to try and sprint to find the others as quick as possible. It was also tempting to slow to a walk and let my pounding heart catch a rest. I split the difference.

"We're back folks," said Prometheus. "And I come bearing news! Gloria Bright of the Iron Regiment has been disqualified! Seems she was caught spying. How naughty. That brings the numbers to seven on seven, with Po of the Bronze Regiment retiring through injury. Things are heating up."

"They certainly are," said Justin. "Especially when you look at the Bronze Regiment. They're scattered and vulnerable right now. It isn't looking good for them."

I cursed as I ran. Great, so just in case Kurt hadn't figured out we were spread out, now he knew for sure. It was great to see Justin had that whole impartiality thing going strong.

Apparently I wasn't the only one unhappy, either.

"Announcing may be new to you," Prometheus said cheerily, "but I'd ask you not share sensitive information. They can hear us as well, you know."

"Oh! My apologies. It wasn't my intention to hinder our competitors!"

"I would also ask you not lie to me," Prometheus's voice lost none of its charm, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent there. "I don't take kindly to attempts at tricking me. In fact I take them very badly indeed."

I couldn't see what was going on at the announcing booth, wherever that was, but the tremor that entered Justin's voice made me wish desperately that I could.

"O-of course sir. Won't happen again sir."

"Brilliant." Prometheus was back to normal. "And what's this- the iron regiment has found their first opponent!"

I cursed again and was about to put on a burst of speed to help the unlucky guy. Then I realized the unlucky guy was me.

Sometime while I was listening to the announcers, I'd crossed the border. The thin line of fire was a few steps behind me, and I wasn't the only person there. Popping out of the woods were four Iron regiment members, Kurt at the center of them.

"Am I the only one getting déjà vu here?"

"Nah, it's a little different," Kurt said. "This time there's nobody to watch your back."

He was way too right. Not that I was letting him know that.

"You sure about that?" I asked. "Maybe they're just hiding. Getting soaked once was enough for them. Wasn't for you, apparently."

Kurt just plodded closer. He didn't look completely comfortable, but he also wasn't panicking. I knew focused eyes when I saw them.

"You came alone," he said. "We know that much."

I heard a crunch from behind me, and a fifth member popped out from the friendly side of the halfway line. He was dressed like the girl we caught spying- camo and face paint to help blend in. Clipped onto his belt was a blocky old-school walkie talky. Its pair was hitched on Kurt's belt, and I felt like grimacing. That explained how they found me.

"As for you water trick…" Kurt raised his sword, continuing to close the distance. His teammates spread out to surround me- all sides, this time. "I won't pretend to know how you pulled that off. But wielding that much power isn't easy for any mortal. You're exhausted."

"I guess we'll see," I said.

He smiled. "That we will."

We both lunged.

Our swords clashed three times, evenly matched, before the rest converged.

It wasn't like they'd suddenly improved. Each of them was as lackluster as they'd been earlier. But now it was a full five, not three, and my arms felt like barbells. Sweat fused my hair together and dripped down my nose. Every dodge put me in the path of a new sword; every parry left my back open to a different attack. A spear took off a lock of my hair. My elbow got sliced pretty good. I growled and swung back with everything I had. The flat of my blade hit a kids helmet so hard it rung his head like a bell. He dropped, probably concussed, and still I couldn't get a tiny break.

It was the most frustrating fight I'd ever been in. At least against the hellhounds with Thalia I'd had time to breathe, and I thought I'd done pretty well considering how young I was. The Phonoi had made me mad, but that was different, and they hadn't been allowed to spring their ambush. This felt like I was fighting amateurs… and losing.

"Things aren't looking so good," Justin narrated. "Do you think we'll see another turnaround, sir?"

"I'm not sure," Prometheus said, but his voice made it sound like he was, and it wasn't an answer either of us liked.

My throat was constricting. I was as exhausted as after the most brutal drills with Andi, and even my heightened reflexes were barely keeping me in the fight. I tapped the bottom of my weapon and it morphed into Anthea. One of my opponents yelped as I swung the suddenly materialized spear shaft into her side, dropping a second opponent.

But the move was a hail marry. I was stuck with a spear defending against the other four. At this sort of close range, that was very much not good. As I blocked a slash my weapon ricocheted to the side- I was wide open.

Before I could duck away Kurt's sword was at my throat. A quick tap cut off my curse before it materialized, my body turning stiff like plywood.

An array of choice words sprung to mind but my jaw was locked shut. Golden aura coated me like a sheen of glowing sweat to complement the old-fashioned kind dripping down me. As the color tinged my vision, I realized it was the same shade as Kronos's eyes.

"Whew." Kurt puffed out a breath, relaxing his shoulders. "You don't go down easy, do you?"

I tried to communicate with my eyes: Unfreeze me, and I'll show you going down easy.

My telepathy must not have been in working order, because he just chuckled.

"Right. You can't exactly answer, can you. Well, sorry, but this is where we split off. C'mon people!"

His subordinates gathered around him- those that could anyway. The girl who's ribs I'd hit for a homerun had a hand to her stomach and seemed to be glaring my way. Imagine that. The kid I'd nailed in the head was as paralyzed as I was, his own prisoner tag glowing above his head. The hit had left him unable to fight.

"We split up," Kurt announced. "Half of you drop back and defend the vase, the rest search for enemies. If you find one, take them down. Don't fight if you're outnumbered. If you find Victoria, only fight if you've got two or more. For all the others take them down on sight. Let's go!"

They shouted like a sports team leaving a huddle and rushed off into the woods. Kurt went last, casting a final look at me.

"Don't take it too hard," he said. "This was bound to happen. You can't rely on one player in a team game."

"Only fifteen minutes left," Prometheus announced. "Currently the scores are six to six- two down before the match started, two downed during it, and still the scores are even. Will they stay that way?"

Kurt smiled apologetically. "Gotta run."

I watched his back disappear into the brush. It was only after he was gone that I realized just how crappy getting captured really was.

I could move my chest enough to breath, I could look left and right, and that was it. It was like being constricted in hundreds of pounds of foam- no matter how much you tried to move, you were utterly stuck.

If I were claustrophobic I probably would've been freaking out. Luckily, I wasn't. I was ADHD though, and that was only slightly better. After a minute my brain was screaming at my body to move around, and the body couldn't do a thing. No wonder the others hated the competition so much if this was what losing felt like.

Speaking of the others, I focused on the announcers like a lifeline. We weren't losing… yet. If they could keep hidden and even catch someone, it was our win.

C'mon guys.

"Still no confrontations," said Prometheus. "It's possible there won't be another this round."

"I don't expect that," said Justin. "Someone will get found. Staying hidden isn't easy."

I really hoped Prometheus would shut him down and say, 'How ridiculous, of course they'll stay hidden!" but he just sighed.

"I do," he said, "believe that you are correct."

And he was. Only two minutes later the commentators' voices rose with excitement.

"We have contact people!" said Prometheus. "Alyssa from the Bronze Regiment has been discovered. Should've hidden a bit deeper in that thicket, my girl. Now, can she hold ou- Ouch! That one looked like it hurt. Ooh, should've blocked that… and its over! The Iron Regiment takes the lead!"

I would've shut my eyes if I could. Great. Now not only did we have to take one of them down, we had to do it without losing anyone else.

I figured the chances of that were somewhere around Zeus sending me a card on my birthday.

The next few minutes were torture. One by one the commentators described my teammates falling, all while the translucent hourglass ticked away overhead. I was torn between wishing the grains would drain slower to put off our loss, or wishing they'd just go faster and end the experience.

At least there was a third round. Except, I wasn't sure it would do us any good. Even unparalyzed, my body was so dead tired I could barely move my limbs. By contrast the Iron Regiment, who split the effort eight ways, had way more left in the tank. I only saw another round going one way.

But we were about to see, because all too soon Justin's voice filled the arena.

"We've only got a minute left," he said. "Currently only two members of the Bronze Regiment are in the game: John Smith, and Victoria Champion. The Iron Regiment still have six. This round seems over."

"It isn't looking good," Prometheus said. "As the time ticks down, is there still room for a miracle?"

"I hope not," said Justin. "I don't like those things at all. They have a way of messing up the natural order of things."

"Don't let Tyche hear you talking that that young man. The last one she caught talking bad about luck found a whole lot of flower pots dropping off balconies as he walked underneath. Oh, look at this, only a few seconds left. Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…"

At least it was almost over. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I would just have to find a way to turn things around in the next-

Wait. I rubbed my eyes?

By the time my brain caught up with the fact that the paralysis was gone, Prometheus was shouting.

"A last-second turn of events! John Smith has walked straight through the Iron Regiment defenders and smashed their vase! They never even moved to stop him! That takes the numbers to seven versus six, the Bronze Regiment leading at the death!"

The drumbeat hit. The crowd was roaring again but I barely noticed, dropping to a sitting position then all the way onto my back.

My legs ached, I had a migraine so bad I half expected Athena to bust out of my skull, and I was grinning.

We'd won.

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

I Get a Pep Talk from Cupid (Sort Of)

By the time I made it to the others they'd all grouped up. The fact I was practically limping, exhausted to the core, probably had something to do with why I was the last there.

The Bronze Regiment was gathered in a tight circle, everyone talking at once. I couldn't catch a word with so many voices. Then Victoria spotted me and forced her way out.

"Percy!"

I grunted as she tackled me, my shaky legs sending us both to the ground. By the time I sat up she was already off of me, bouncing around pumping both fists.

The golden barrier was still intact above us, lighting the night sky. Victoria's left cheek was marked by dried blood, and there were smudges of sweat and exhaustion from under her eyes to her forehead. Twigs were tied up in her black hair. She looked like she'd lost a brawl with the forest floor, and I'd never seen her look near as happy.

"We won!" She chanted. "Won, won, won!"

"Thanks to this guy," Alyssa said. Even she was smiling as she pointed to the center of the human circle.

With Victoria out of the way I could see the whole regiment had clumped around John. He was blushing and looking at the ground, the shards of the Iron Regiment's vase still in his hands.

"Yeah!" said Emmitt. Then he frowned. "But, wait, what actually happened? One second we're about to lose and then bang, we're winning. I like it, but I don't get it."

John stuck his toe in the ground and twisted his ankle in circles. "I got the idea at halftime," he said, "when we caught the person spying."

"Wait." Victoria quit celebrating just long enough to look over. "You caught someone spying?"

"Sure did," Emmitt said. "I tackled them."

"He did," I confirmed.

"Anyway," John said, "that gave me an idea. People don't notice me much. I'm average and, well, boring. Even my name is forgettable. As soon as they look away from me people forget I exist. I thought I might as well use that."

Emmitt's eyes widened. "You can just do whatever you want? And nobody notices you? That's awesome."

"It's not that useful," John said. "I can't do anything direct. If I touch someone they'll notice right away, and if they keep looking at me there's no time for them to forget. I'm not invisible or anything."

Victoria bounced over to him, still full of energy. "How'd you get to this thing then?" She grabbed the shards from the vase and let them fall one by one back into John's hand. "They would've been guarding it like crazy."

John shook his head. "I just waited. I followed them when they first hid the vase and just stood behind a tree. If they looked up and saw me I'd duck out of sight, and they never came to fight me. Eventually all of them rushed off and left it undefended for some reason. I don't know why."

"Me," I said, the pieces coming together. "Six of them went after me. That's their whole team, so it must've been undefended then."

"Well, when that happened, I just snuck in and grabbed the vase and ran. I waited to the end to smash it so that they couldn't recapture anyone. I'm just surprised it actually worked."

"Don't be!" Victoria slapped him on the back. "I expect such strategies from my subordinates!"

It was the first time I'd seen everyone laughing and happy. It was nice, but at the same time a remnant of the paralysis was lingering on my spine, keeping me uneasy. As far as wins went that had been as close as they came. If we brought that same level against the undefeated Gold Regiment, we were toast.

I shook myself. There was time to worry later, when we got closer to next week. Now was time to celebrate.

O-O-O-O-O

I'd love to say we threw a killer party as soon as we got back, but by the time we climbed the mountain and took the stairs to our homebase it was well past midnight. Within fifteen minutes every one was tucked into bed snoring.

If only the sleep that came was equally relaxing. No sooner had I fallen asleep than the dream started.

I was in a cave, somewhere far from California if the icicles on the ceiling were anything to go by. The only light came from a flashlight, the figure holding it sprinting as fast as he could through the dark.

"Come on, come on," they mumbled, shooting glances over their shoulder.

The moment they rushed past I was yanked along after them, as if a rope was tying us together at the waist. What sounded like eagle screeches echoed from further back, and somewhere outside deep booms sounded, accompanied by tremors in the cave walls.

Another screech, this one the closest yet, and my unknowing guide cursed. "Blyat."

I willed myself closer to get a look at them. It was a guy- a tall one, with decent muscles and feet that could only fit in size sixteen sneakers, which might've explained why he was wearing bright orange flipflops. He was dressed in a tank top and shorts. I felt cold just looking at him. I figured he must've been freezing, too, because his skin was slightly blue.

I'd just finished my inspection when a light came into view up ahead. The guy put his head down and added a burst of speed, pulling me along at speeds I never could've reached in tennis shoes let alone sandals.

We tore through an opening into a much bigger, much grander cave.

Here the ceiling was three stories high at least, with fissures letting in grey rays of natural light. The room was the size of an amphitheater, but instead of a stage at the center it was the largest pile of treasure I had ever seen.

I'm talking golden doubloons, precious gems, glittering weapons… every type of goody you can imagine. It was thirty feet tall in places, coating half the room. Without hesitation flipflop guy dove straight into one of the deeper areas.

After a few seconds of squirming he was totally out of sight, only his eyes peeking through little gaps.

Nothing happened for a minute. The walls shook a little from a distant explosion. A sword, straight edged and slightly rusty, slid from the top of the treasure pile to land next to the guy's hiding spot. Then something appeared at the entrance.

Its steps sounded like knives slicing through gravel. Whatever it was stopped just short of the light, but its yellow eyes still glowed. It wasn't human. The thing was the size of a car, and walking on four legs. I could just make out a tail flicking behind it. It opened its mouth and screamed.

The shriek pinged off the walls and rattled the treasure. Flipflop guy flinched in his hiding spot. The creature took one step into the room, revealing a leg coated in golden fur with a nasty set of claws at the end, and the scene disintegrated.

My eyes snapped open. I sat up, sheets stuck to my legs with sweat, and looked around.

Everyone was asleep. Out the window the sun was just barely peaking up, putting the time at around dawn. In the bed next to me Emmitt snored and mumbled in his sleep.

"No, silly, not that rake."

I sat for a second, trying to clear my head. Unless the competition had taken more out of me than I thought, that dream had been real. Somewhere, for some reason, that guy had hidden from something-or-other in a pile of gold. But what it meant? I was stumped.

It had gotten to me though. Blood was pounding in my ears like I'd been the one on the run. There was no shot I'd get back to sleep anytime soon. I slipped out of bed, thankful that I hadn't bothered undressing before collapsing, and headed out.

I got about halfway across the courtyard before realizing I had no idea where I was going. The chilly air stung my nostrils. I still had a few hours before my shift to watch Bianca started, but I headed for the main building anyway.

If I expected it to be empty I was proven wrong fast. If anything there were more monsters than usual, heading to the dining hall in groups and wandering the halls belching and laughing. A few looked my way and nodded.

"Good fighter!" proclaimed a passing Laistrygonian. I mumbled a confused "Thank you." wondering if I'd gone crazy and missed it.

Kurt hadn't hit me in the head, had he?

Before long my feet carried me to a path I knew. I was on one of the higher floors, near where Victoria dragged me to give her 'recruitment pitch'. The view that had been great then would only be better now, with the sun coming up. I guessed maybe it would be pretty enough to distract me from the uneasiness that dream had left in my gut.

Only, when I actually stepped onto the balcony, someone was already there. A man in a stylish vest and designer jeans, fiddling with a potted rose in the corner. I was about to head the way I'd come when he spoke, noticing me without turning around.

"Hello there. Here for the view?"

"Oh, uh- I mean I was," I said. "Don't worry about it. I don't want to hog your balcony."

"Stay, stay. Views are enhanced by company."

"Alright," I said, wishing I'd managed to slip away before he noticed me. Leaving now would be too rude. I took a seat at one end of the stone bench.

Neither of us spoke for a minute. He kept working on the rose plant, humming a ballad while I tried not to stare.

"And there we go." With one final clip the man turned around, and I couldn't help but blink.

I'd seen bigger, buffer guys before. But this guy was perfect, just the right amount in every place, all of it perfectly defined. Blue eyes peeked through brown bangs, perched on the perfect pedestals that were his cheekbones. His lips were full, his nose exactly the right size, all his features the best sort of average. He looked like a composite of every Hollywood star's best feature.

I stared mutely, taken aback, and he slid onto the bench beside me.

"Ahh," he sighed. "Much better. Really, roses take so much work to keep perfect. Clip this not that, water exactly here… Well, I suppose that is why I love them."

"Who are you?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Straight to the point. Blunt, even. Ladies love that in a man. As long as you know when to come out with it and when to hold back."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

"Good, good." He brushed his bangs to the side and then held out his hand. "Eros, young man. A pleasure to meet you."

There was a trill in the way he said pleasure, like the word came more naturally from his lips than any other. I took the hand.

"Percy."

"Oh, I know." He slipped his hand away and set it on the bench. "You are far too interesting a mortal not to."

Well, that wasn't creepy at all. Did every person on the mountain know exactly who I was?

"Really," he carried on, "You've no idea how much work you'll give me in the future. How much entertainment."

"You know my future?" I asked. It wasn't unheard of for immortals – and he definitely was one – but that didn't mean it was the norm. At my question, he laughed again.

"Some I know, some I don't. None have ever described me as studious, and I can't disagree." He leaned toward me, uncomfortably close, with the look of an artist in his eyes. "But look at this face. Those eyes! It's young, yes, but what's to come can already be seen. It will trail behind you, of that I'm certain."

I leaned away. "Sorry, what will? As a general rule I like my behind un-trailed."

"Desire," he said. "Want. Need. It always follows your type. The dashing hero. That mix of looks and deeds that spawns emotions like nothing else. You will not be the first to experience it, and luck be with me, not the last, either."

All of a sudden it clicked in my head.

"You're the Eros. You're Cupid."

He waved his hand. "Correct the first time, wrong the second. Really, you do not want to meet that guy. He's got an even shorter fuse than I do!"

Eros laughed uproariously and I chuckled along with him, even though I didn't get the joke.

"But that is me. God of love, affection, and desire. From slight crushes to full blown obsession, you've got me to thank for it."

The sun was really coming up now, lighting the hills and making the ocean glitter like the gold (treasure?) from my dream. I would've enjoyed it more if I wasn't acutely aware that an immortal was sharing my bench.

"You tend these plants even though you're a god?" I asked, looking at the two perfectly manicured rose bushes set up in the corners.

"Oh, yes." Eros said. "Even the fountain was my own touch."

"But couldn't you just like, snap your fingers and magic everything until its perfect? Doing it by hand seems like a waste of time."

He sat for a minute, looking at me from the corner of his eye. Then he let out a loud, belly splitting laugh that still managed to sound melodic.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said. "I do not mean to be rude. It is just that, an immortal wasting time? All we have is time! Time to do a million things, and still time to do a million more. We do not die. Even after their defeat, the titans still had time. A millennia of torture to stew and plot. And we – us minor gods – what did we have? Time to live, but not time to rule. That was reserved for twelve only. Even those like me, with power of their own, were merely an afterthought. Thousands of years as my mother's lieutenant. It's like promotion is not in their vocabulary!"

"Are the benefits any good?"

"Not like they should be," Eros sniffed, still smiling. "I believe I got somewhat distracted. You had asked why I work by hand. My answer to you is, what else am I to do? If everything is finished with a snap of the fingers I'll grow bored. And that, is a fate worse than death."

The ADHD in me agreed wholeheartedly.

"Enough about me, though," Eros said. "I wish to hear about you. What brings you here so early? And the morning after a feat no less."

I snorted. "Some feat it was. I spent half the time paralyzed."

"And won."

"Sure. This time."

"That's the only time that matters, isn't it?" Eros cocked his head. "Allow me to frame it this way. If you ask out your crush and she agrees, it's a wonderful thing. Maybe the first date could have gone better. You spilled spaghetti sauce on your best white shirt, what a klutz! But at the end of the night she says she'll see you again. You've done enough- what matters now, is improving for the second date."

I stared at him. "Was that whole example really necessary?"

"No," he admitted. "But it isn't always about saving time, remember? Life loses its art when you're in a rush."

I kept quiet and thought about what he was saying. He had a point. By winning the match we'd done all we had to. The Gold Regiment might still be better than us, but we had a week before we faced them, and a week ago beating the Iron Regiment had seemed crazy. We had time and, most importantly, we had a chance. The only way we lost that chance was if I we gave up hope before trying.

Apparently something changed in my face, because Eros's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"I like that expression much better."

He was nodding appreciatively. Then he turned, still smirking, and looked out at the horizon.

The sun was all the way in view now. Yellows and oranges painted the clouds. In the opposite direction cars snaked along the 101, morning commuters headed for the city. Most of San Francisco was blocked from view, but you could still spot the Bay Bridge stretching across the water toward Oakland.

"Nice view," I said.

"It's the cars I like best." Eros gazed down at the freeway.

"I didn't take love for a car guy. Do you work on transmissions between flower bushes?"

"It isn't about the vehicles. It's about the distance." He held up his hands as if holding a compound bow, two fingers pulled back. "Miles off, traveling seventy, eighty, even ninety miles an hour. Could I hit it? One arrow, straight to the driver. All of a sudden he can't get the waitress that served him morning coffee off his mind, even though he has a wife and two sons back home. His life changes completely… or it doesn't."

"Why?"

It was like the question didn't compute. Eros's forehead crinkled, puzzled. "I said, didn't I? It's a challenge. I take my archery seriously."

The morning was only getting warmer with the sun coming up, but I suddenly felt cold. Right. Even if he was being amicable, Eros was still a god. He might've had incentive to help me out, but mortals weren't even people to him. Like bark on a tree, waiting to be used as archery targets.

"Do you think you could do it?" I asked, suddenly possessed by a strange need to know. "Hit a driver from here?"

His tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth. "In thith wind," he said, protruding tongue giving him the lisp of a Kallikatzaroi, "I think the anthwer ith yeth."

And he straightened his two fingers, letting the make-believe arrow fly. By the time I looked back, I was the only one on the bench.

O-O-O-O-O

Hours later I jogged downstairs, all the way to the first floor. I don't know if it was some parting magic from Eros or the warmth of the sun, but I'd nodded off right there on the bench. This time my dreams stayed peaceful, and when I drifted awake it was with newfound energy.

It was also half an hour into my guard shift.

"Your late," Bianca said when I'd passed all the kitten paintings and pushed open the door to her cell/room. She was still in bed but on top of the covers, an open issue of The Gabbing Gorgon magazine laying over her face like a sloped roof. The cover declared NEMESIS SAID WHAT! and A DEEP DIVE INTO HEBE'S SKINCARE ROUTINE!

I took a seat in the desk chair, the only other seat in the room. Bianca must really not have been able to see, because she didn't even tell me to move.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "That was probably the highlight of your week."

"I will neither confirm nor deny," said the magazine.

I tapped the floor with my foot, thinking about what conversation to try – and fail – to start today. I figured wearing her down would be a battle of attrition. Luckily, I was one stubborn kid.

"So, The Gabbing Gorgon, huh?"

Silence.

"Is it interesting?"

"Yes," she said. "So interesting. Can't you tell from how closely I'm reading it, an inch from my face?"

"Cool."

She sat up. The magazine slid off her face and tumbled into her lap. "I was being sarcastic."

"Really?" I raised my eyebrow. "Gods, I couldn't tell at all."

Staring at me with her lips pursed, she looked young. I'd been meaning to get her exact age from Luke for a while, but she couldn't have been older than twelve. Too young, I thought, wondering if that made me a hypocrite.

"Maybe I should ask to have the guards that don't speak back."

"Since when do prisoners get to choose who guards them?"

"I thought I was a guest," she said, "not a prisoner."

"Guests can leave their rooms."

"Great! So if you could just go open the door for me…"

"No can do." I shook my head. "They'd probably feed me to a drakon, or maybe something even nastier."

"That's perfect then," Bianca mumbled, but she must've felt at least a little bad because she went quiet after and wouldn't meet my eyes.

I sighed and pulled out Aelia. It had been a good attempt. Sometimes I only got a word or two, so this was a great success. I turned my attention to planning.

I'd taken Eros's advice to heart. It was time to focus on facing the Gold Regiment, and improving so that we'd have a real chance. The first step, I figured, was coming up with an actual strategy. If there was one thing Kurt showed us, it was that putting everything on my back wasn't good enough. Unfortunately there was a difference between knowing your old strategy was bad and replacing it with a better one. After a few minutes of staring blankly while tapping Aelia on the desk, I turned to Bianca.

"Can I borrow a sheet of paper?"

She looked at me suspiciously. "What do you want it for?"

"Creating battle tactics. Honestly! If you don't believe me you can look over my shoulder."

"Alright," she agreed after a second. "It's inside the desk. Just don't touch the pictures."

What I didn't expect was for her to take my offer. But by the time I'd pulled out a blank sheet she was standing behind me, looking expectantly.

"You actually want to watch?" I asked.

"What, I can't? I'll take my paper back."

"No, you can, but it won't be all that interesting. You'll get bored."

"Well, what else is new," she said.

With a shrug, I focused on the paper. It was her (bad) choice.

Fun fact about Aelia: if you twist the eraser clockwise before you press on it, you've got a regular mechanical pencil in your hands, led and all. To date this was the second time the function had been used, and the first was when Dedalus showed it to me.

"You brought a mechanical pencil to guard duty?" Bianca asked.

"Sure," I said, trying not to snicker. "Let's call it that."

Like the tactical genius that I was, I started by drawing a vase in the center of the page. I did it a little too big though, and it was lopsided so one edge was wider than the other. I erased and tried again while Bianca snickered behind me.

"You're – snort – quite the artist."

"Could we keep the input positive?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Your fault for inviting me."

My second attempt came out good enough to keep. From there I started doodling little trees, adding eight stick figures in between them. Then I put the halfway line, and drew it all again on the other side. That was where I came up empty.

I'd hoped getting it on paper would bring a flash of inspiration, and I'd quickly scribble a bunch of arrows showing how we would flawlessly outmaneuver the Gold Regiment. Instead I was just as lost as before, but now with a visual reminder of what I was failing at.

"Are you drawing you and your friends at recess or something?"

Bianca had leaned over my shoulder, staring at my drawing. She seemed in a good mood, possibly because my own was so bad. "What'll you add next, a tetherball?"

"It's a wargame," I explained absently. Any other time and I would've been thrilled at how much she was talking, but right now I was frustrated. "The two teams fight to capture each other and protect those vases."

"What happens if you get to the vase?"

"If you break it, everyone the other team caught is released."

"And how do you know who wins?"

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, willing my brain to think. "Whichever team has more people when the time ends."

"See?" Bianca stood up with an exasperated sigh. "I knew you were thinking about recess. You're just coming up with strategies for Kick the Can."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatev-" My brain caught up with what she'd said. "Wait, what was that?"

"This game. It's kick the can." Bianca strolled around to stand beside the desk, shaking her head. "I mean, it's a little different. Usually you only have one defender. But the rest? You try to get to the can, the defender tries to stop you, and if you're caught you're out until someone gets the can."

"Vase," I corrected.

"Vase," she said, rolling her eyes. "Same thing. The fundamentals are all the same. Believe me, I'd know. We used to play it all the time growing up. Everyone did."

"It's that popular? I've never even heard of it before."

She looked at me like I'd sprouted a second head. "Where did you grow up, under a rock?"

"Not quite. Manhattan, Upper East Side."

"Then I guess you just didn't have friends."

I chewed my lip but let it drop, because she wasn't actually wrong. Still, even if my elementary school days weren't spent rolling in popularity, 'kick the can' wasn't the go-to game on any blacktop I'd ever been to.

"So you know how to play?" I asked.

She grinned. "Know how to play? You're looking at the neighborhood champion, three years running. I would kill to play again, not even Nico could keep up with me."

A moment after the words left her mouth her smile disappeared. Luke's words came back to me: the shock of losing her brother. I could already see her retreating into herself, reverting to silent and gloomy, and rushed to do something – anything – to stop it.

"My mom's dead!"

On the plus side, it worked (Go Percy, conversation starter extraordinaire!). Bianca was caught so off-guard she just stared, her mouth hanging slightly open like a fish's. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"She died when I was seven. My dad wasn't supposed to have any more kids, took an oath and everything. The fact that I exist means he went back on his word. When his brothers found out, they weren't happy. At all."

"What happened?" Bianca asked softly.

I shrugged. "They sent monsters. My mom wouldn't give me up, and eventually they- well, she died. I would've too, except I got lucky. Someone took me in and fixed me up."

I slipped the glove off my left and rapped it against the opposite ankle. The room filled with metal pinging, and Bianca took a step back.

"Those are metal? That is so weird."

"This whole world is. I watched the sun come up with a god this morning, right after he trimmed a rose bush. Once you're around crazy long enough you get used to it."

"How?" Bianca asked, and I was shocked by how genuine – how desperate – the question sounded. There wasn't any more sarcasm or quips, just a girl who couldn't understand a thing around her.

"I even tried reading that stupid magazine," she said, tossing her head to where The Gossiping Gorgon lay splayed on her bed. "I thought maybe if I read about this world I'd be able to consider it all real. I didn't make it halfway through. Dragons, monsters, gods, you'd have to be crazy to believe in that stuff! But when they're literally keeping you in their basement, you'd have to be crazy not to believe it. I don't want to be crazy!"

"You're not," I said. "Take it from me; I've met crazy. You aren't even throwing knives or talking in alliteration yet, so I figure you're plenty sane."

"But what if you aren't?" Bianca sighed, running trembling fingers through her hair. "Pent up in this room I don't know anymore. I just don't know."

All of a sudden I felt the flash of inspiration I'd been after earlier, only this plan didn't have anything to do with kick the can tactics. It might take a little work, but it seemed doable. I started forming my pitch for Luke on the spot.

"Hey," I said. "You know how you were saying how badly you wanted to play kick the can again? I've got this idea…"

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

I Help Arm a Young Girl

On the way to meet Luke I cooked up a whole speech on why to let Bianca into the Bronze Regiment, with counterpoints and everything. I was feeling pretty accomplished, too, until he agreed before three words had left my mouth.

"If you can get her to agree, consider it done," he said, barely looking up from a map of America coated in little three-dimensional action figures. Some I recognized, like a minotaur and a couple of Harpies near Wisconsin. Others were more bizarre. A one-legged man with a foot as large as his body was blotting out Dallas. Luke kept picking up different figures and moving them toward the Pacific Northwest, before shaking his head and moving them back. After the third time I decided I was excused, and scrammed before he could change his mind.

And just like that, Bianca joined the Bronze Regiment… is what I would love to say, but there were still procedures to see to. Namely, getting the girl herself to agree

The next morning I found Bianca wearing a windbreaker and hiking boots. Like the rest of the clothes she'd been given they didn't quite fit right, about a size or two too large, but the fact she was wearing them at all was a good sign. You don't put on a jacket to sit around inside.

"Luke's okay with it. All that's left, is whether you're on board."

She stood, hands shoved in her pockets. "So you still want me to join your club."

"It's called a regiment, and it's… Actually, club is pretty accurate. But yeah, that's the gist of it."

"And joining will get me out of this room?"

"Any time you want."

"And if I change my mind, I can come back here?"

"I won't be stopping you," I said. "You could leave as soon as the Competition is done, or even before if you want."

"Then why not." She pushed past me through the door, glancing over her shoulder as if challenging me to stop her. "Hurry up- you have no idea how ready I am to be out of here."

Once in the hallway she turned into a human top, spinning to look in every direction.

"What's with the kitten paintings?" she asked, eyeing the wall décor as she spun.

"They're 'just in case'."

"In case of what?"

"You escaping?" I shrugged, thinking back to Luke's evasiveness. "They wouldn't tell me when I asked. Above my pay grade, I guess."

"And what's this way?"

Bianca started deeper down the hall, away from the exit, and I was reminded for the first time that the hallway didn't end at her cell. It was something I'd noticed, but never really considered until now. It angled downhill, and the further I looked the steeper it got. For some reason I couldn't pin down it felt like standing near the edge of a chasm.

I grabbed Bianca's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"Wrong way. The exit's the other direction." She looked like she might argue, and I shook my head. "Didn't you want to see the sun?"

She shrugged my hand off, but listened all the same. "Wow, some tour guide you are."

As Bianca strode past me – the right direction this time – I felt a sudden sense of empathy for Victoria.

"The two of us are way too similar," I muttered.

O-O-O-O-O

"Percy!" Victoria was waiting for us by the stairs to the Bronze Regiment's base. I had filled her in the day before, right after I got the green light from Luke. The possibility of another new recruit only added to the good mood she'd sported the last few days.

She had a duffle bag over her shoulder. I didn't know what was in it, but if she started pulling out bowling balls in a second then I was leaving… Unless they were aimed at Bianca, in which case I'd be more than happy to watch. It would be cathartic to see someone else go through my pain.

"Victoria," I said, "meet Bianca. Bianca, this is Victoria, the leader of the Bronze Regiment. Say hi."

Bianca did not say hi. Instead she glared at the sky, like she had been since the moment we stepped outside.

"Is she… okay?" Victoria asked.

"Oh don't mind her. She's just a bit disappointed."

"Overcast," Bianca grumbled. "It's freaking cloudy. You've got to be kidding me."

Like many Bay Area afternoons, the mist had rolled in and stayed. Looking up only gave a view of the grey sheet, not allowing an ounce of blue to peek through.

"C'mon," I said, "cheer up. It'll clear up sometime."

Bianca's glare dropped from the sky to me. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I saw the sun?"

"A couple months, right? What's a day or two after that?"

"Don't say that like it's nothing," she snapped.

"Well," Victoria said, "Hopefully this will take your mind off things."

She tossed the duffel bag onto the ground, where it landed with a hefty clang.

"I'm assuming you haven't handled a weapon before?" Victoria asked.

"I have," Bianca said defensively. "Once. My boarding school let us shoot a pistol with supervision. They said I was a good shot."

"A pistol? That's no good." Victoria unzipped the bag and an array of spears, swords, and stranger weapons spilled out. "We'll need to get you up to speed with one of these."

Bianca eyed the miniature arsenal at her feet. "No offense, but I think I'd prefer to have a pistol if a lion man ever decides to fly off with me again."

"No," I said, "you really wouldn't. If you shot a monster like that with mortal bullets, you'd be lucky to get a sneeze out of him."

Bianca looked pale, and it had nothing to do with her extended stay out of the sun. "And one of these knives is supposed to help me against something like that?"

"It's about the material," Victoria explained patiently. "These weapons are Celestial Bronze, a special metal. You could swing one of these at a regular person and it would pass right through them, but it's like kryptonite to monsters- one solid hit, and they're off to Tartarus to reform."

"Even with this little thing?" Bianca picked a knife out of the pile, not much bigger than what a chef would use to chop meat.

"If you can land a hit," Victoria said, "then sure."

"But good luck getting close enough without getting sliced to ribbons," I added. "Claws hurt, and I've seen plenty of monsters with bigger ones than that knife."

Bianca grimaced and dropped the weapon back into the pile. "Point taken."

"Pick up a few and try them out," Victoria urged. "Some demigods are naturally better with certain weapons. Try a spear? Children of Ares love that one. There's always plenty of those running around."

For the next ten minutes Bianca tried out weapon after weapon, but none stuck. Every time after a few swings she would drop whatever spear or sword or knife she'd been using, complaining about it feeling too heavy, light, or just plain awkward. Her swings slowly got faster as her frustration built, and I took a few steps away for safety.

"Didn't you say one of these would feel natural?" she whined after yet another failure.

"I said they might," Victoria clarified. "Not every demigod is good with weapons at all. Children of Demeter are most dangerous with a spade, and the closest thing to a weapon Aphrodite's kids will go near is a bottle of perfume. Don't take it to heart though! Everyone's got their specialties, even the ones that can't fight."

"Great," Bianca said. "I'm feeling better already."

While they talked I'd started sifting through the weapons, seeing what all was there. The answer was a lot. Even weapons I'd never seen in person, like a polearm and a gladiatorial net, were mixed in among the usual stock.

"Where'd you get all this?" I asked.

Victoria shrugged. "Some of it came from the training room. The rest I got special order from Chief."

"From that grumpy mutt? How'd you swing that?"

"Hey," Victoria said, "he's not that bad. He's nice enough to me."

"So he's not a grumpy mutt. My bad. He's a lecherous grumpy mutt."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, if you didn't pick a fight with him you might've gotten along a little better! He really considered making the Bronze Regiment special order weapons a while back. One of my less successful attempts to break our losing streak."

When we visited the forge Chief had started apologizing for something, right until Victoria cut him off. So that's what that was about. Spoiler: I wasn't about to march down to the basement and give him a heartfelt apology. He was the one that had picked a fight with me, not the other way around.

"Screw it!"

A thump followed the shout as Bianca hurled a sword longer than her torso back to the ground. She was chewing her lip as she stomped to the other side of the pile and scooped up a weapon that had fallen to the edges.

"I'll take this." She shoved the weapon toward us– a bow, one shaped like an M, carved out of stained wood. It didn't look all that fancy, although it wasn't like I could tell you what separated a top-grade bow from all the rest of them. The string was taut, and the thing looked like it could fire arrows, so I figured it was pretty alright.

"Are you sure?" Victoria asked. "Don't you want to try taking some practice shots first, before you decide?"

Bianca fiddled with the bowstring, pulling it back and releasing it a couple of times. "Doesn't matter," she decided. "With this I won't need to get close to anything. That makes it way better than those clunky swords."

"And if you miss?" I asked.

Bianca gave a bright smile. "Then I've got a head start for when I run away."

Victoria frowned. "I'm not sure that-"

"Whoa, look at the time!" Bianca stepped over the pile of weapons, making for the stairs behind us. "You guys wanted kick the can coaching, didn't you? Let's get to it."

Victoria and I shared a look.

"Is she always this difficult?" Victoria asked.

"I think she's trying to be. Payback for being kidnapped, or something like that."

We stared at each other a moment longer. Then Victoria sighed.

"I'll put the rest of these away. You go and catch up to her- I get the feeling leaving her alone with the others is a bad idea."

I nodded and hurried off as she stooped to shovel weapons back into the duffel bag. If it helped us win The Competition, all the headaches would be so worth it. I reminded myself that over and over as I scaled the stairs.

It was crazy how much the Bronze Regiment's training room had changed in the short time since I first saw it. The makeup station, bookshelves, and extra furniture were all still there, but now it was them pushed to the edges of the room. The training mats that had been pried up were back in position. The roof had been patched up, meaning no more leak. When I popped through the trap door Emmitt, Lucas, and Po were sparring while Vera and the others studied what looked like sword fighting manuals. The only part of the room that hadn't changed was Aurora nestled in her sleeping bag.

Bianca was standing just in front of me, glancing around the room as if double-checking she was seeing everything right. "Is someone sleeping over there?"

I pulled myself up and stood beside her. "Yep."

"And does that guy have a sack on his head?"

I watched Po dart around, dodging Emmitt's sword and swinging back with his little knives. "Pretty sure it's a cowl. Don't ask me what it's for, though."

"Is there a single normal person here?"

I thought about it.

"Victoria wasn't bad, was she?"

"She showed up to meet me with about a hundred weapons slung over her shoulder. In what world is that anything but crazy?"

"Yeah, well, the first time she met me she tried to blackmail me, so that doesn't seem so bad."

Bianca stared at me, trying to decide if I were joking. "And this is who you said was normal?"

"Relatively anyway." I shrugged. "She's pretty cool once you get used to her. All of them are."

The spar ended, Po finally managing to send Emmitt to the floor. That didn't seem to douse the smaller boy's energy one bit. A moment after admitting defeat he'd spotted me, and bounced over like a ricocheting Ping-Pong ball.

"Percy!" he chirped. "I lasted thirty seconds this time. That's halfway to a minute, which is a fifth of the way to five minutes, which would actually be pretty good. I'm ten percent of the way to not-terrible!" Still beaming, he noticed Bianca next to me. "Oh, hey. Who're you?"

I stepped forward and did introductions, pointing out members one by one. Once I was done Emmitt shoved out his hand, still grinning.

"Hi! I'm Emmitt. I guess Percy just said that, but it's still true!"

Bianca took the hand warily, like she was trying to pinpoint exactly what was broken between Emmitt's ears. "Yeah. You too."

"Are you joining the Bronze Regiment?" Emmitt asked.

Bianca raised her eyebrow. "I wasn't aware I had a choice."

"Of course you do," I said. "There's two other regiments that might take you. Although only one of them is playing kick-the-can. And you could always head back to your room."

"Look at you, trying to get rid of me. You'll have to try a little harder, though." Bianca stepped into the middle of the room, and I expected her to shout to get everyone's attention. Instead, her voice came out quieter than usual. "Alright. I've got something to say."

Emmitt was watching attentively, but the others didn't even notice, wrapped up in what they were doing.

"Alright everyone!" I clapped and watched everyone jump. "Attention over here! We've brought in some extra help for The Competition. Everyone be good and listen to Bianca here."

Everybody gathered around, looking expectantly. It almost brought a tear to my eye seeing how obedien- I mean, attentive they'd gotten. If I'd had a camera on me, I would've snapped a photo to show Victoria what she missed.

With all the attention on her Bianca looked like she was having second thoughts about existing. Her foot was tapping the floor, and her fingers were clenched. I realized this was the most people she'd been around since learning that gods were more than a bedtime story. Months of isolation couldn't have done her public speaking skills any good. Stepping up beside her, I mussed the top of her head until dark hairs were sticking every direction.

If she'd had eye lasers my torso would've combusted on the spot. I mouthed, "Tell them already." and she jolted, as if finally remembering what she was there for.

"Uh, hi, people." She cleared her throat. "My name's Bianca, and a little birdie tole me you needed some kick-the-can tips."

O-O-O-O-O

Either Bianca was such a well-kept secret even the other Regiments didn't know about her, or she was too much of a wildcard for them to bring into the fold. Justin never stood to invite her, and Kurt's speech was noticeably less energetic than the one he'd given for me. Victoria was unable to resist finishing her speech on a line about our victory over the Iron Regiment, and a few minutes later the brazier flames glowed Bronze.

When Bianca took a seat near the middle of the table she found herself swarmed by welcomes and congratulations. She was trying not to smile, but the corners of her mouth weren't quite under control.

As for me, I'd taken a seat all the way at the end of the bench. A serving spirit whizzed by, sliding pizza onto my plate and filling my glass with Coke after a wave of its translucent hand. I took a sip sighed, and relished the carbonated fizz.

"Again?" On my right, Vera stared at my plate with visible distrust. "That's not real Pizza."

I lifted a slice, searching defects. "Looks like Pizza to me."

"With a crust that thin? No chance. It's missing about five layers of cheese and half the crust."

"You're crazy. New York style's where it's at."

"Not to a Chicagoan." She turned to her right, slowly feeding strips of bacon to Aurora, who was napping with her head on Vera's shoulder. Somehow, without waking up, Aurora chewed every bite. "There used to be a killer place on my block growing up. Now they knew how to make real Pizza."

"What happened to it?"

"Nothing, probably. It might still be there. I'm the one who left."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" I thought about my old neighborhood. Life hadn't been great there, but looking back had a way of making you miss every basketball court and dingy corner shop you used to walk past. "I can't remember the last time I ate at a restaurant. The monsters just don't leave you alone."

Vera smiled slightly. I thought it was the first time I'd seen the expression, but I might've just missed it before. Her lips were small for the size of her head, and didn't stand out much against her dark skin.

"Monsters after me? Nah. They wouldn't be able to smell me if we collided in the street. You heard of Eurus?"

I knew quite a few gods, but I shook my head.

"Not surprised. Most haven't. The East Wind he calls himself. Hah! Even out of the four wind gods he's the least powerful. Some don't even think he exists, that's the kind of 'powerhouse' my dad is."

"But if monsters didn't come after you, how'd you find out you were a demigod? I thought that was how it always started."

Vera shifted, feeding Aurora a biscuit piece by piece. "I've always known. Mom might've been a depressed addict, but she was always honest with me. She told me everything, back when I was too young know it should sound crazy. Dad was around every fall for a while, too. He liked seeing the corn bloom, something about sponsoring the harvest wind or whatever. After a while he quit showing up even for that, and life went on."

I'd heard of demigods that didn't attract monsters. Dedalus said there were quite a few of them, kids with scents so weak they could choose to live normal lives. It was my first time meeting one, though, and I couldn't help wondering how she ended up here.

"If it wasn't monsters, why leave home?"

Vera was quiet for a minute. She tossed a carrot in her mouth and chewed it slowly, only answering when she was done. "Good luck, and bad luck. A demigod moved in down the street, this child of Morpheus. Weird girl, always napping, and boy did the monsters come for her."

"You looked out for her," I said. It wasn't a question.

"Someone had to. Morpheus's kids are different from the rest of us. There are more of them, for one thing.

"Really?"

"Of course. Why'd you think they call it sleeping with someone?"

"Probably because of the bed, and the- well, never mind." I thought it over a second. "But if there's so many of them, why are there so few around here? You'd think they'd be all over."

"Most are barely demigods. Kids that are a little lazy, like sleeping in, and might be slightly dyslexic. They smell even less than I do. Most of the time, they never learn they aren't mortal. But it's worse for the powerful ones. The stronger they are the more they sleep, and they're like beacons for monsters. Not a good combination for living."

I thought back to the wager-spar, the only time I'd seen Aurora awake. If it wasn't for a conveniently placed puddle, she would've sent me for a nap mid-battle. A second later, she'd been back to sleeping like a log.

"And when they use their powers…"

"You guessed it. Straight to sleep, no matter how much caffeine they've had. Believe me, we tested everything Starbucks will sell you and then some while on the run. No effect."

"How'd you survive?" I couldn't help but ask. I'd lived on the run for a month, with two extremely competent demigods practically taking care of me, and it was still no stroll through Central Park.

Vera chuckled. "Teamwork. Aurora would put them to sleep, and when the recoil knocked her out, I'd scoop her up and run. It was enough, I guess. Kept us alive."

I sipped my coke, frowning. The more demigods I talked to, the luckier I realized I was. Even if Okythoe never diced me like a cucumber, seven-year-old me wouldn't have lasted a week alone. Without Dedalus I would've been deader than the spirits at Antietam.

Not that I'd be reminding him of that anytime soon. He was entirely too smug already without giving his ego any extra strokes.

"I'm adding Aurora to The Competition."

I choked on my soda, coughing carbonated bubbles. "Say what?!"

"It's not that crazy," Vera said, picking at her food. "If we can get her awake she could change everything."

"Yeah, If."

"I'll figure it out," Vera insisted. "I don't want to lose to them. Not to Justin, and definitely not to her."

Vera glared across the room so hard I thought her temple might burst. Following her eyes, I found a girl with black hair and porcelain-like skin eating and chatting at the Gold Regiment Table. She had a pointy chin and features like a hawk- sharp nose, big eyes, and a face that seemed to slant forward. Just looking at her was a little unnerving, like a spider was clambering up your leg. Sensing the attention, she glanced over her shoulder. Spotting Vera, she winked.

"I want to kill her," Vera said casually.

I scooted a little further down the bench. "Is she that bad?"

"You can only ask that because you haven't fought her yet." Vera stabbed a hunk of chicken out of her salad, putting a little extra behind her fork. "The trick to beating her is to remind yourself it's all fake. Unfortunately, it still doesn't work."

She didn't look all that scary. I couldn't tell how tall she was, but her build was pretty slight. I figured one good hit would knock her down. "Thanks for the tip," I said.

Vera eyed me. Then she sighed. "You aren't taking it seriously. Just don't get caught off-guard."

The girl had stopped looking at Vera, but she didn't turn away. Her eyes slid down the Bronze Regiment one by one. When they reached Bianca, something changed. She started, eyes going wide before quickly narrowing to glare. She looked ready to murder the next thing put in front of her, be it monster or hamster or demigod. Bianca must've felt something too, because she turned away from a chat with Victoria to glance around. By the time she looked toward the Gold Regiment table the girl had turned away, like she'd never been looking.

But I'd seen it in her eyes. If she'd had a weapon in her hand, she wouldn't have hesitated to run someone through. I rubbed Aelia in my pocket and took a bite of my pizza. It didn't taste nearly as good as it had a minute ago.

"That girl…" I asked. "Who is she?"

"The only daughter of Melinoe in the world," Vera said. "Justin's pride and joy, the only demigod to complete a Feat that isn't leading a Regiment. Nera Ricci, the biggest bitch I ever met."

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

Bianca Ignores a Present

    Call me conceited, but when I pictured training for The Competition I didn’t exactly see myself doing it too. I thought I’d stroll around, maybe sipping a latte, and offer pointers while everyone sparred, correcting form and easy stuff like that. 

    Instead I was grimy and gasping for air, wrapping up an eighth lap around the Mt. Orthrys courtyard. 

    “You're almost there!” Bianca called from behind the line of white tape serving as our finish line. “Don’t be so lazy. Give it a burst of speed!”

    I stumbled over the tape and collapsed on the ground. Emmitt bundled by on my right a moment later, wheezing and dragging his feet. Considering I’d lapped him twice, he still had a long way to go.

    “Wow. You look like crap.”

    I blinked my eyes open to find Bianca leaning over me. She’d borrowed a headband from Victoria and tied her hair back in a ponytail. Together with the better fitted clothes the Bronze Regiment girls had scrounged up for her, she looked like awhole new person. That the new clothes weren’t sagging with sweat only added to my irritation.

    “Shut up,” I wheezed. “I don’t want to hear it after you only ran half. This was your idea.”

    Bianca sniffed. “I haven’t run since PE class at Westover. If I overdo it here, I’ll probably shrivel up and die or something. If anything it should be impressive that I ran half.” 

Alyssa trundled by with both hands pressed to her face, peeking through her fingers and moaning something about running makeup. 

“Keep going strong!” Bianca called after her, before turning to me with a frown. “She wears makeup? I thought she was like ten.”

My breath was coming back now, bit by bit. I sat up and linked my hands behind my head the way Daedalus taught was best for catching your breath. “No idea. I don’t think I ever actually spoke with her. Is that weird?”

“Kind of. I glanced at the products sitting around our training room, but I barely recognized any of them.”

“That’s strange.” Bianca and I both jumped as Victoria appeared behind us. Somehow she looked fresher than Bianca, despite running the full distance faster than anyone. She tossed me one of a couple fresh water bottles she’d gone to grab. I would’ve bowed down if I wasn’t preoccupied gulping the water.

“You said the makeup was strange?” Victoria continued. “Most of it’s Allyssa’s, but some is mine. All of it is pretty standard stuff.”

Bianca looked uncomfortable. “I probably just didn’t look that close. Can we talk about something else?”

“I second that idea,” I said. “Something more interesting, like maybe paint drying, or how Victoria isn’t even tired.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “I did track in high school. Before, you know, dropping out to fight in an underground war. Played soccer, volleyball, and ran cross country too. Even helped the basketball team when they needed players. I still run every day. Helps clear the mind.”

“Oh,” I said, “you’re one of those.”

“One of what’s?”

I crinkled my nose. “Active people. You probably wake up early by choice.”

She looked offended. “And what’s wrong with that?” 

“Exactly my point.”

“Uh, guys?” Bianca interrupted. “Who’s that?”

Victoria and I turned, and I felt my mood sour… Which was pretty impressive since about five minutes ago every breath felt like swallowing shrapnel. Striding toward us across the courtyard with two burly subordinates and a girl I recognized as Nera Ricci behind him, was Justin Petty. Justin hand was above his head, waving like he’d spotted long-absent relatives at the airport.

“What does he want?” I asked.

“Ask him,” Victoria said.

“I don’t want to though. He’s so annoying.”

“Tough,” Victoria said, and she stepped forward to meet him.

“Can I help you Justin?”

“Victoria!” He stopped just close enough to be heard clearly without raising his voice. “I was on my way back from a meeting when what do I see? It’s the Bronze Regiment, running laps . It just seemed so interesting I had to check in. Is there an upcoming marathon that I’ve missed?” 

Victoria smiled. “Come on Justin,” she said cheerfully. “Use your head a little. There’s only one event we’d been training for right now.”

“Oh! This is for The Competition? I never considered you would turn to running to try and catch up. Honestly, the way your mind works.”

“It does work in mysterious ways,” Victoria agreed. “After all, at one point, it thought there was no way to beat you!”

Victoria laughed, and Justin chuckled along with her. After a minute they both trailed off and went quiet, neither moving, both watching with polite fixed smiles.

Bianca leaned toward me. “Alright, who is this guy?” she whispered. “Those two are giving off seriously bad vibes right now.”

“You know the people we’re supposed to fight?” I whispered back. “That’s their head honcho. Victoria has history with him. Very much do not get along.”

Bianca mouthed, “Oh,” and tried to sink into the background. Too late. Whether our voices had carried, or Justin’s eyes had been wandering, he locked onto her.

“Why, if it isn’t your newest recruit! What was it again… Beatrice? Bethany?”

“It’s Bianca,” I said. “C’mon Justin, don’t tell me your memory’s slipping?”

“Harsh, Jackson. I just wanted to make sure. Hey, I’ve even got someone that wanted to say hello to her. Right Nera?” 

Nera Ricci stepped around the bulkier Gold Regiment kids and draped her arm over Justin’s shoulder. 

“Hey!” she said, showing off a full set of pearly teeth. She could’ve given Apollo a run for his money, and that’s coming from someone that’d seen both. “Name’s Nera. Nice to meet you!”

She held out her hand, and I noticed Victoria lock onto the gesture like it was a speeding car baring down on us. 

“Bianca,” Victoria said quickly, “why don’t you go check on Emmitt? He looks like he’s having a hard time.”

He did. He must’ve fallen and gotten back up, because his face was coated with dust. The way his legs were shaking, I figured he’d be back down any minute. Victoria tossed Bianca a bottle of water. “Take that to him.”

Bianca looked torn. On the one hand ignoring, Nera would be like a slap to the girl’s face. But she and Victoria had been getting along pretty good. I got the feeling she didn’t want to upset our resident athlete. In the end, she split the difference.

“Nice to meet you,” she told Nera, not taking the hand but giving her a nod. “We can talk when I get back.”

“Yeah,” said Nera. “Alright.”

Bianca exhaled and hurried past, apparently glad the other girl hadn’t taken it personally.

Maybe Vera’s warning from a couple nights before had me on high alert. Maybe I could just feel something was off. Either way, I saw Nera tense before anyone else.

“Lookout!” I yelled a second too late.

Bianca spun around just as Nera lunged, reaching out a finger and… tapping the younger girl on the nose? It was barely a touch, but the effects were instant. The bottle slipped from Bianca’s fingers. Her skin paled and her eyes clouded over, like they were staring backwards at something inside her own skull.

Nera pulled back instantly, dropping her hands. “I changed my mind,” she declared. “I’m not interested in you anymore.”

And she linked her hands behind her back and started walking away, whistling to herself.

“Hey!” I shouted, drawing Aelia. “What the hell did you just do?”

Nera didn’t stop, just kept walking. Justin laid a hand over his chest and gasped. 

“I’m not sure what you’re accusing us of but I’m very offended. Can you prove that we’ve done anything to you?”

His remaining goons chuckled. I took a step forward, trying to decide which would be more painful: a spear shoved down your throat, or a sword. “You won’t be able to prove your face is yours unless you answer my question .”

Victoria grabbed my wrist. “Save it a day,” she begged. “Please. I know how you feel, but he’s right. If you attack him now it’ll look like we started it, and you’ll lose your chance to hit him as much as you want. Bianca will be fine. A little shaken up at worst.

“What’ll I be?”

Everyone froze, even the Gold Regiment kids. Bianca looked from them, to Aelia in my hand, to Victoria holding me back, and scratched her head. “I spaced out for a second and suddenly everyone moved. Did Nera leave?”

Justin was staring as if trying to decide whether she was a ghost or not. “Are you quite alright?”

The way he asked implied she very much shouldn’t be, but Bianca nodded.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be? Oh, dropped this!” She bent down and picked up the water bottle. “Hang in there Emmitt!”

She powerwalked off, and we all watched her go. Everyone else clearly had some idea what Nera had done, and this lightspeed recovery wasn’t part of those plans. 

“Let’s go.” Without a goodbye Justin marched off, his goons trailing after him. 

He didn’t look back, but I would’ve bet a thousand drachmas he was scowling.

The arena hadn’t changed. Maybe it was a different section of woods the random Dracaena had guided us to, or maybe it was the exact spot Prometheus dropped us a week before. The important bits were all the same- glowing dome around the boundaries, a whole lot of prickly vegetation, and the promise of eight heavily armed hostile demigods lying in wait somewhere out of sight.

Only one thing had changed, and that was the commentators. Prometheus seemed to have held onto that part of his job, even if he left the guiding part to a nameless monster this time around. His partner tonight was a straight swap of Regiment Leaders. Kurt tossed analysis back and forth with the titan, debating the strengths of each team while we stretched and waited for the start signal.

“I will say,” Kurt said, “that if the Bronze Regiment expects their opponents to fall as easily as we did, tonight won’t be fun for them. They got us good, but the Gold Regiment are in a league of their own.”

“How humble,” Prometheus said.

Kurt chuckled. “Don’t mistake it. I take pride in my Regiment’s efforts, but when someone beats you four times in a row, you’ve got to acknowledge them. Otherwise that’s not confidence. It’s stupidity.”

“Mm. And on that note, time for a word from our sponsor. Hyperion Brand Toothpaste, guaranteeing more shine per square inch, or your money back…”

I tuned out Prometheus’ gabbing and surveyed the others.

Everyone wore armor and helmets, except for Bianca who only had the armor. We hadn’t been able to find a helmet that didn’t drape over her eyes, and risking a knock to the head seemed a lot smarter than fighting blind. True to her word, Vera had Brought Aurora. She had the smaller girl draped over her back, giving her a piggyback ride. After a little debate Alyssa and Lucas had been sacrificed from the roster to make room for the newcomers. I would be lying if I said they hadn’t looked at least a little relieved.

“Well,” I said. “This is it.”

Nobody answered. Bianca was fiddling with the string of her bow. She had a full quiver looped off her belt and a dagger hung on the other side. John was gripping his sword so tight his fingers were white. I took the silence as acknowledgement.

“Everybody remembers the plan, right?”

Victoria paused a groin stretch and spoke up. “We’ll go over it one more time, just to be sure. Remember, the first round is about running. I don’t want it to end until the timer goes. Everyone remember their roles?”

“I’m bait,” Vera said.

“Me too!” said Emmitt. “And Po’s with us. And you, Victoria. Right?”

“That’s right,” Victoria said. “Everyone else are sacrifices. But whatever you do, you can’t make it obvious, or they’ll realize something’s up.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They won’t suspect a thing.”

Vera laid Aurora against a tree, placing a sword in her lap just in case. Victoria ran through a few final calf stretches. The rest of us spread out, waiting to split up the moment the horn sounded.

“Don’t panic,” I told Bianca next to me. “You’re sticking with me, so you won’t have to fight. As soon as they capture me, surrender. You won’t even have to sell it, they’ll just think you’re scared.”

“Is it bad if that makes me want to shoot them once?” she quipped, trying to sound relaxed. “Hey, do you think this’ll actually work?”

“No idea,” I admitted. “But hey, we brought in an expert to come up with this plan, and between you and me she talked a big game. If we lose now, at least we can make ourselves feel better by laughing at her.”

She elbowed my side. “Idiot.”

    “Careful! You’ll injure the star player before the match starts.”

    Her face said she wanted to ask who died and made me the star, but she never got the chance. The horn sounded and Prometheus roared, “Go, go, Go! We’re off folks, and good luck to all involved!”

    The Bronze Regiment scattered. Bianca stuck close to me, but everyone else disappeared between the trees. That was the plan, one that made no sense the first time I heard it but seemed pretty clever after smarter people explained it a few times.

    Basically, we were throwing the first round. Sounds dumb, I know, but there was a reason. Me, Bianca, and a few others would get caught early in the round, pretending we’d been caught off guard. Those were the sacrifices. Everyone else was bait, and their job was simple: run. They would get the Gold Regiment chasing them and keep it that way for as long as they could. If everything went to plan, the second round would kick off with our key players totally fresh against opponents that were on their last legs, taking the round and tying the scores right away. From there, everything came down to winner-takes-all in the third round. At that point anything was possible.

    There were plenty of things that could go wrong. If the Gold Regiment gave up chasing, for example, and instead defended those they caught at the start. But we were banking on Justin’s pride. He wanted to beat us bad and send a message. That was going to play right into our hands.

    Bianca and I stuck to a light jog, just fast enough it looked like we were trying, not so fast we ended up tired. That would be another way to ruin everything.

    “Do you really think five days of running will help the others’ stamina?” I asked after a minute of traveling in silence.

    “Not at all,” Bianca said. “Three days isn’t enough time. Even I know that”

    I nearly tripped. “Then what was the point of all that running?”

    “Every little bit helps. Mostly, I wanted to get them used to running while exhausted. It’s easier to push through if you’re used to the feeling.”

    “Then why did I have to run? I’m not even bait.”

    I didn’t have to turn to tell she was grinning- it was written all over her smug tone. “True. But I enjoyed watching you run. You should’ve seen your face.”

    “Great. Glad you’re taking this seriously.” We split to go different directions around a broad tree, meeting up again on the other side. “You know, speaking of yesterday… what happened with Nera? She tapped you, and all of a sudden you were totally out of it.”

    “Again?” Bianca groaned. “Victoria already drilled me about this. Ask her.”

    The thing was, I had. And what she had to say was interesting to say the least. 

    “Melinoe, goddess of ghosts, nightmares, and funerary rights. Lieutenant to Hades and also Nera’s mom. Nera can conjure someone’s worst memories with a touch, trapping them in, well, a nightmare. Victoria told me that, along with how nobody hit with it has been okay after. Nobody until you.”

    “Maybe she didn’t do it right?” Bianca suggested. “Look, I don’t know. All I saw was this big flash of light, and then I was back. Nothing to cry over in that.”

    I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to it. Not that Bianca was lying. She was too composed for that. We were missing something, an extra puzzle piece that had slipped out of the box.

    We were silent the rest of the way, which didn’t turn out to be very long at all. A couple minutes later a Gold Regiment fighter leapt out of a bush, shouting a battle cry.

    It was only one, a wiry boy wielding a sword with impressive speed. I parried a few strikes taking steps back. 

    “Keep away,” I warned Bianca. “He’s good.”

    And he was. I was working up a sweat. He wasn’t on par with Kurt, but I doubted anyone else in the Iron Regiment could’ve taken him. He was also the type to talk while fighting.

    “Scared?” he asked.

    Our swords pinged of each other. “Maybe a little.”

    “Liar,” he said. “You aren’t even trying yet.”

    Crap. Was it that obvious? I had to fight more seriously, and now I needed to capture this guy to keep him from talking. Luckily, those two overlapped.

    The next time he swung I leaned back, bending out of the way. Then I kicked him in the leg, metal toes straight to the shin bone. 

    Credit to the guy, he kept his feet. Must’ve hurt like Hades though. He teared up, biting his lip. We traded four more strikes as he limped before I hit his sword just right. His guarded blew open and I pointed my sword at his chest, letting the magic take over and finish the fight.

    Just in time, too, because it turned out to be Justin time. No sooner had I finished the boy off than five fighters arrived as a combat group, Justin at the front.

    “Haven’t I done this before?” I asked. “Last time was Kurt. Now you’re doing it. Seriously, is there some rule you guys only show up after I’ve beaten one of your guys?”

    Justin didn’t speak, which was the first sign he was serious. I didn’t know he was capable of keeping his mouth shut, but this was all business. All of them came at me at once, not even needing a signal.

I would love to say it was stamina holding me back like against the Iron Regiment. That I could’ve handled them all if I was fresh. But that would be burying my head in the sand. Truth was, this was me fresh, and every single fighter from the Gold Regiment was good, picking at my blind spots and not leaving any openings to take advantage of. A minute ago I’d been worrying about how to lose without making it obvious. Turns out I wouldn’t need to sell a thing.

An arrow whistle close to my ear.

“Them!” I shouted. “Aim for them, not me!”

“Sorry!” Bianca shouted back. She’d taken up position nearly twenty feet away, what I hoped would prove a safe distance.

    A spear thrust from behind left a shallow cut on my arm. Nothing serious, but a warning. Getting injured here would be just another way to ruin the plan. I had to get myself out of the fight, and quick.

    Strangely enough, the chance came from the person I least expected to help with anything. Right in the corner of my eye I spotted Nera creeping up on Bianca, moving between the trees like a stalking shadow.

    “Behind you!” I shouted.

    Bianca dove. A clumsy summersault later she was crouching, much further from the lurking Nera. 

    The Gold Regiment wasn’t about to pass up that sort of opportunity. Two swords came at me from both sides before I could turn back. I blocked one on my metal shoulder. The other I made a show of reacting late to, and let it carry the sword from my hand.

    As luck would have it, I managed to look toward Bianca before the paralysis kicked in. She’d drawn the knife on her belt and started backing away, keeping distance between her and Nera.

    “Heard you threw off my gift,” Nera called. “I’d love to see if you can manage it again. C’mon, come closer.”

    Bianca glanced my way, then threw her knife to the ground. “I surrender!”

    A few around me chuckled about green newbies as the golden light washed over Bianca. I was about to sag in relief – you know, if I could’ve sagged at all – when I saw something that made my blood turn to ice.

    Nera hadn’t stopped. She was still closing in, sword raised, while Bianca was frozen in place, unable to even back away a step.

    “Nera!” Justin barked. “That’s enough! Get over here.”

    I never thought I’d be relieved to hear Justin’s nasally voice, but I guess that just shows how unpredictable life can be. Of course as soon as his words didn’t work, I revoked the feelings. C’mon, Justin. Aren’t you supposed to have your Regiment on a leash?

    “Nera!”

    “Whaaaat?” Nera’s head tilted to the side, glancing over from the tops of her eyes. “Can’t you see I’m busy, Justin dearest?

    “You touch her now and it’s all over for us. You understand? Forget disqualification, you’ll be lucky if they don’t execute you. I don’t care what grudge you’re nursing. It can wait.”

    For a really scary second, I thought even that warning hadn’t been enough. Nobody else was close to Nera. If she decided to keep going, there would be nobody to stop her. Then she lowered her sword.

    “Why so serious, Justin?” she complained, strolling back to her companions. “You worry about every little thing and you’ll be wrinkled in no time. Let big sis play around.”

    “I’m your commanding officer,” Justin said. “And I’m older. When I tell you what to do you do it, or I’ll make you.”

    “Blah blah blah.” Nera waved her hand. “We’ve got six more to hunt don’t we? Less nagging, more fun. C’mon.”

    She walked into the woods and disappeared. A moment later the others followed, leaving Bianca and I alone with the unlucky guy we’d jumped. Being paralyzed hadn’t gotten any more fun in the last week, but after worrying whether a girl I’d brought along was about to be murdered in front of me, it didn’t feel so bad. 

    There was one thing I could tell you for certain though. Next round, no matter what, Nera was not getting close to Bianca. I didn’t care what it took to make that happen… or what I would have to do

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

Bad Memories, Good Memories

    The next twenty minutes were the most conflicted of my entire life.

Every moment the match kept going was another I was stuck, trapped in place as my head screamed at me to move. And yet, it also meant our plan was — at least partially — working. So I grit my metaphorical teeth and focused on the positives.

    When Prometheus announced The Gold Regiment as winners, it was only after the time limit went:

    “By a score of seven to three, The Bronze Regiment falls in a thrilling match.”

    The crowd didn’t agree. Boos and heckles rolled off them. I wasn’t surprised. The only thing monsters hated worse than the ‘no killing’ rule was no fighting at all. 

    “Calm yourselves everyone,” Prometheus said. “There is a round or – dare I say it – even two left. I’m sure we’ll go up from here.”

    “Not sure where else it could go.” I imagined Kurt was narrowing his eyes, trying to stare into our heads. “The Bronze Regiment is up to something.”

    I wanted to yell at him to shut up before he gave Justin any ideas, and fortunately he did. Both commentators went quiet, catching a break during halftime. The second the magic dissolved from around my body I was at Bianca’s side.  

    “You okay?” I asked. 

    “Not at all.” Bianca gripped her wrist and rolled it in circles. “You never said we’d have to play human statue after we got caught. I’ll have a kink in my neck for weeks.”

    “Sorry to hear it, but that’s not what I was asking about.”

    “Then what?”

    “Gee, I don’t know, maybe about how somebody tried to kill you?”

    Bianca glanced away. “Don’t be so dramatic. She was just trying to scare me a little.”

    “Hah!” The bark of laughter made us jump. I’d completely forgotten the Gold Regiment boy that had been frozen with us. He was stretching to work feeling back into his body and, apparently, listening to us talk.

    “If you think Nera was bluffing, then I’m jealous. That means you don’t really know her.”

    I faced the kid. “You know, you’re the second person this week to tell me how scary she is. That’s impressive consistency.”

    “If she says she’s going to hurt you,” the kid said, “that means she’s going to hurt you. If she wants to scare you, prepare to be scared. If she comes toward you smiling, run the other way. I’ll even give you a tip about her; she’s always smiling.”

    I snorted. “So much for team spirit.”

    “Hey man, I just tell it like it is. I’m glad she’s on my side. But if you think for a second that I like her, toss that out the window.” He pulled his arm into a shoulder stretch trying to cover a shudder. “Her favorite hello is a trip down memory lane to the worst moment of your life. ”

    “Thanks for the heads up,” I told him. 

    “Don’t mention it. I’d tell you guys good luck, but that would mean bad luck for me, and I’m not in the habit of wishing ill on myself. ”

    And with that he walked off.

    “He seemed nice,” Bianca said.

    “Yeah,” I agreed. “I might even feel a little bad in a minute when I knock him out.”

When we spotted the others I felt one layer of my worries strip away. Po and Vera looked great, if a little sweaty. Victoria looked perfect. Only Emmitt had a big bruise swelling up his cheek. Aurora and John, the other sacrifices, barely had a mark on them.

    “It worked?” I asked, trying not to sound surprised.

“Like a charm,” Victoria said. “At least, the ones chasing me looked pretty tired.”

    “They caught me,” Emmitt chimed in, leaning forward to display his cheek. “That wasn’t fun. But they were really sweating when they did! I tried super hard.”

    Our regrouping spot was as out of the way as you could get, close enough to the border and the halfway line to stand in the corner and touch both with your hand. Our vase had been left somewhere out of the way in the forest, unguarded.

    Between the ones that chased Emmitt and all the others playing bait, nearly the entire Gold Regiment had been led on a wild goose chase. Now it was time to lead them on another.

“Victoria, you’re sure that Justin will go on the attack? If he sits back and defends, this will end up as a head-on fight. That’d be pretty much game over.”

    “He’ll attack,” Victoria assured me. “The goal isn’t beating us, it’s beating us with style. He wants to win with the crowd as much as winning the game.”

    That, I imagined, wouldn’t be all that hard. The monsters just outside the barrier were leering at us hard. 

    “Violence!” shouted a cyclops. “Blood! Carnage! No more running!”

    We ignored him. “And everyone has their bottles?”

    I got a series of nods.

    “In that case-” I gripped Aelia in my fist and pumped it in the air. “-let’s go!”

    A muted cheer went up. Not too loud; attracting attention here was about the worst thing we could do. A few minutes later when the horn blew we were off, wasting no time.

All eight of us would loop around to the back of the other half, as deep in enemy territory as we could get. If everything went to plan we’d get there without being spotted, and go for their vase all at once. By the time the Gold Regiment’s attackers charged back they would’ve run the length of the arena two more times on top of the running from earlier, all before they even arrived at the fight.

The arena was way bigger than I realized. By the time the dome wall began to curve we’d been moving for what felt like ten minutes. Not that you could tell from the environment. Someone with a greener thumb than mine might’ve called it beautiful, but I was a Manhattan kid at my core, even if I hadn’t been back for years. Pine trees and the scent of moist earth only left me bored. 

    When we finally stopped the first thing we did was slice healthy branches off all the trees around us. Then, with that done, I held up my hand, and Emmitt and John slipped away. 

    Their job was to find the enemy vase… Or John’s was, since he was probably the least likely person on the planet to get noticed doing it. Emmitt’s job was to lead him back to us once they were done. I didn’t fully understand it, but Emmitt insisted he could pick out where we were from anywhere, so long as we diced up the plant life a little.

    While we waited the crowd was really going crazy. Behind us some had taken to pounding on the barrier, which thankfully proved it was made of sturdier stuff than monster fists. Meanwhile Prometheus, who’d done an admirable job of not giving us away, tried to settle the crowd. 

    “Patience, good monsters. If you cannot wait for your desert it will never taste as sweet.”

    His metaphors were wasted. Mention of food only made them angrier.

    They wouldn’t be whining much longer. After a wait Emmitt and John reappeared, giving me a nod. We set off as a group, homing in on The Gold Regiment’s vase. 

    Three guards. That was how many Justin had left in a triangle formation. He wasn’t one of them, and neither was Nera. The kid I’d captured last round was, which made me a little sad. Out of all of them, he was the only one I’d feel a bit bad about beating up. 

    We hit them like a wave. They might’ve been skilled but we outnumbered them two to one, and we had the element of surprise. They were captured before they understood what was happening.

    “What a daring tactic!” Prometheus exclaimed. “The entire Bronze Regiment has swarmed to enemy territory. In a flash they’ve captured three opponents and the vase!”

    “Exciting,” said Kurt. “But how’d they find the vase so quickly? Some sort of trick?”

    “Who knows,” said Prometheus in a way that made me think that he did, for one. “What is important is that we now have a real battle on our hands. How will Justin respond?”

    “Even I know that one,” said Kurt. “He’ll fight back.”

    The crowd roared. Literally, in a lot of cases.

    Standing there waiting it was like every noise got ten times louder. Our own heavy breathing, Prometheus rambling statistics from past matches, the creak of tree limbs- every last one made me jump as if it were Justin bursting out after my throat. 

    Maybe it was ironic, then, that when the attack came the first noise was from one of us. Out of nowhere Po, positioned on the far right of our semicircle, screamed and fell. 

    “NOOOOO!” He gripped his head, curling into a ball. “I’ll pull it out! I’ll do it quick so just stay still and just-”

    That was as far as he got. Nera, standing over him with her arm out from grabbing his wrist, tapped him with her sword and froze him in the fetal position.

    “How boring,” she said. “He yelled the same stuff last time. I really hate dumb people with just one nightmare.”

    I charged her, but Justin and another boy appeared blocking my path. Another went for Victoria, and the final one leapt at Emmitt and Bianca. That left Vera and John against Nera, who giggled when she saw them coming.

    “Maybe you guys will be more fun!”

    I growled. I had no intention of leaving Nera to anyone else, but I didn’t have a choice. I recognized the guy attacking me. I never got his name, but I knew his face as one of Justin’s go-to bodyguards. He was easily over six foot and swung his hefty ax with Percy-splattering speed. 

    Big guy would come first, forcing me to duck away every time. There was no parrying an ax that must’ve weighed a bazillion pounds. Justin would strike right when I’d dodged, at times I couldn’t easily get away. Then, to make matters worse, I had to worry about not leading them to the others. The last thing I wanted was to dodge that ax and leave Victoria or Bianca unaware in its path.

    I might’ve been worried if we hadn’t expected this. We always knew a straight fight would be bad for us. That was why we focused on coming up with tricks.

    For one thing, they were both tired. I could see it in the sheen of sweat down their necks. But making them run wasn’t all we had up our sleeve.

    I yanked my bottle off my belt, slicing off the top in a single motion. Then I aimed it at the big dude’s face and squeezed . 

    Water fired out like a cannon as I willed it to speed up. The results were a power washing of the guy’s eyeballs. He yelped in a pitch higher than I thought he could manage and I struck, eliminating him in one attack.

    Justin’s eyes narrowed. Either the surprise attack annoyed him, or his own peepers were feeling some second-hand ache. No teamwork, no help, no distractions. We circled each other, neither willing to make the first move.

    In the end I went with shock factor. Abandoning my sword I let Anthea take shape, lunging with the spear.

    Justin was ready. Having seen it before he parried easily, following up with a horizontal slash. I hopped quickly out of the way.

    Back to circling.

    “You sure you can afford to stall?” I asked. “Your friends are outnumbered back there. I wonder how long until they lose.”

    I was hoping to agitate him. Instead he chuckled.

    “That’s the problem with you, Jackson. You think too simple. It’s no wonder you lose sight of the big picture.”

    Just then, two things happened. 

First, Prometheus started shouting. 

    “The Gold Regiment has smashed the Bronze Regiment’s vase! That’s right folks, The Gold Regiment is back to eight!”

    My eyes widened, and I kicked myself. How hadn’t I noticed it earlier? With the three from the start and the four that attacked us, only seven of the Gold Regiment were here. Justin had left one behind to find our vase, and they’d come through. I rushed for the others.

    Justin had just leapt in my way shouting, “Not so fast!” when the second thing happened.

    Vera screamed.

    I’d never heard the quiet girl raise her voice, and this was as loud as it could go. My throat felt raw just hearing it. Through the trees I spied Nera cackling and dodging swings from John, dancing around Vera’s downed form. 

    Most of the water from my bottle had been absorbed by the ground, but I summoned what was left to splatter across Justin’s neck. The slight distraction gave me an edge to push past him.

    Things didn’t look good. Big guy and the original guards had rejoined the fight. Emmitt had been captured, and Victoria looked like she was about to follow. Bianca would’ve too, but every time someone went for her Nera glared at them so hard they backed off.

    Justin was hot on my heels, wedging me into a Gold Regiment sandwich. It was a hopeless situation, but in that moment I hardly noticed. The only thing on my mind was hitting Nera. Hard. 

    I never got the chance. Before I got close somebody spoke.

    “What in the world is happening here?”

    The voice reminded me of one of those room service bells, soft and tinkling. It caressed my ears like a fluffy pillow. Just the sound of it let all the adrenaline out of my system. I could tell before I even spotted her, standing with crystal eyes wide open, who it was.

    Aurora was awake.

    “I understand that a lot goes over my head,” she said, looking around, “but this is still really strange. What even causes something like this?”

    There was an undertone to how she carried herself that had even the Gold Regiment stopping to stare. Mostly. One rushed the girl, apparently deciding that Bronze Regiment meant Bronze Regiment.

Aurora looked at him. There wasn’t anything more to it, just a moment of eye contact. The rushing boy crumpled mid-step, snoring before his face smacked the ground. 

“Much better.” Aurora giggled. “Naughty boys take naps. Behave better if you wake up.”

The fact that she said “if” not “when” made me thank every deity I was on terms with that she was on our side.

Aurora was glancing around, drinking everything in with the greedy eyes of someone that spent ninety-nine percent of her life with them closed. Once or twice she paused to comment (“Oh, Victoria’s here! Hello!” or “Is the sky golden now?) while she bounced in place. 

“You’re awake,” Justin said. “You’re never awake. Why are you awake ?”

Aurora turned to him with a smile. “Not a clue. Something got through to me like an alarm. Not many things can manage that, so I’m simply enjoying the opportuni-”

She cut off. She had spotted Vera.

It was impossible to describe what in her face changed, all I can tell you is the effect. One minute she looked cheerful, almost euphoric. The next it all clouded over. Her eyes went deadly, like icicles sharpened to points.

“Who did this?” she asked softly.

When nobody answered she looked everyone over, one by one. When she came to me she paused.

“You,” she said. “You were fighting her before. Was it you?”

It was difficult to answer, but I dug my nails into my palm and shook my head.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because the person who did isn’t keeping it a secret. She’s right over there.”

I pointed to Nera. The Gold Regiment girl had frozen like the rest of us, but for her it seemed different. She was eying Aurora like a piece of meat. She grinned and waved her sword.

“It was me! I did it. But let’s not talk about that, it’s boring.”

“No,” said Aurora. “ Let’s. ”

She raised her hand and everyone bar Nera from the Gold Regiment dropped.

“First,” Aurora said, “you are going to tell me exactly what you did to her.”

“That’s easy.” Nera took a step forward, dropping her sword to buy time. “I just gave her a tap and showed her a little something.”

“Showed her what?”

“Who knows? It was up to her, really. Whatever nightmare haunts her most. Whatever memory is likeliest to drive her mad. It could be the death of a loved one, or a frightening chase with a monster. Just because I bring it out doesn’t mean I control it, dummy.”

“I am going to ruin you,” Aurora declared.

Nera giggled. “Except I don’t think that you are.”

Her hand darted to her belt and I yelled, “Look out!”

Aurora’s hand shot up to knock out Nera the same way she had her teammates, or maybe something worse. If Nera’s eyes closed here, I had serious doubts they would ever open again. But as quick as Aurora started she froze.

A knife, the one Nera had just drawn, was pressed against the back of Vera’s neck. Vera’s body stiffened as the competition’s magic marked her eliminated, but I didn’t relax. Nera had already shown how much she cared for little things like ‘rules’ and ‘murder’.

“What’cha gonna do? Put me to sleep?” Nera giggled. “Do it. Make it so I never wake up, and watch this knife sink into your friend’s spine. I won’t need to lift a finger for that nightmare to stick with you.”

Behind me Bianca notched an arrow, but her hands were shaking. She didn’t have a clear shot. Prometheus, who had been narrating the entire back and forth, had gone conspicuously quiet. I guessed until Nera followed through on her threat, nobody felt the need to stop the match.

I’d always known there was a chance of somebody dying, but this wasn’t how I pictured it happening. Not a heat of the moment mistake, but a calculated strategy.

Aurora had dug her teeth into her lip, her hand still half-raised. She was fading. I could see drowsiness making her body sway.

“What do you think you’ll get out of this?” I asked Nera. “Say you follow through. You heard Justin, you’ll be killed.”

Nera shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Besides, Justin’s a worrywart. I won’t be dying either way.”

“But why go so far?”

She stared at me. Maybe it was a trick of the magic lighting, but her body seemed to flicker- half white like bone, half pitch-black.

“Why not? My life was ruined a long time ago. Compared to my pain, is anything I’ve done really so bad? So they get to see a little nightmare. Boohoo. I’ve been living mine for seventeen years.”

The point of her knife was beginning to tremble against Vera’s skin.

“Alright, alright.” I held my hands up. “Why don’t you tell us what’s wrong? If it’s something doable, I might even be able to help.”

Nera blinked. Then she laughed. “Well, maybe you could help out, but you really don’t look the type to know your way around worker’s union benefits and seduction.”

“Workers union benefits and… Seduction?”

She flapped her free hand. Aurora and I flinched as the motion sent a wobble through the knife. “Like I said, you really don’t look the type. I think I’ll take my chances dragging others down to my level.”

Without warning she snagged her sword from the ground and hurled it at Aurora like a runaway helicopter rotor. Aurora ducked just in time, but Nera didn’t wait around. She darted away into the shadows the instant the daughter of Morpheus was distracted, disappearing like a fish returning to the water. 

An arrow whizzed by, embedding in the tree Nera had just escaped behind. Bianca cursed. “I missed! She got away.”

I wanted to chase her. Really I did. But when I realized Aurora hadn’t gotten up again, I held back.

“She’s breathing,” Victoria declared, crouching with two fingers to Aurora’s neck. “Just sleeping deeply. She pushed herself too hard.”

There was a moment of deafening silence, John, Victoria, Bianca and I all frozen trying to catch up with everything that had happened. That was when I made the final call not to chase Nera. What if she circled back while I was stumbling around in the dark and got the drop on someone else? Revenge could wait if it meant risking my friends. 

“Was that normal ?” Bianca asked softly. “That girl just threatened to kill Vera. Why is this match still going?”

“Good question,” I said.

“It’s because we don’t matter.” Victoria’s voice was quiet as she guided Aurora into a comfier position. “They treat us alright, but at the end of the day we’re no different from clever monsters. But monsters reform, and we don’t. Not that they care.”

“Then why are you fighting for them?” Bianca asked. “Just leave. Or, I don’t know, find a new boss or something.”

Victoria tilted her head. “And go where? Demigods don’t survive on their own. We have two options, the titans or the gods. At Least the titans care a little that we exist, even if it's just because we’re useful.” She stood up and squared her shoulders. “Now’s not the time though. We can chat all you want later. Right now, we make sure we win this, and then we kick Gold Regiment asses for a second time.”

Eliminating the sleeping Gold Regiment was as easy as giving a couple taps with our weapons. That left just Nera and whoever had captured our vase, an 8:2 advantage once we’d smashed the Gold Regiment vase. 

Both Po and Vera were messes when they came to. Pale, shaken, breathing hard. I wasn’t going to ask what they’d seen, but I didn’t have to to know it had stuck with them while they were paralyzed.

“And there it is,” Prometheus said when the horn finally ended the second round. “The Bronze Regiment takes one back! We’re going to a final round.”

“That was impressive,” Kurt said. “They executed their plan well and overwhelmed their opponents. Aurora completely changed the game.”

“Can she do it again?” Prometheus asked.

The answer was no, and we all knew it. To win the next round we would have to fight for it. 

Before we could slip away the Gold Regiment woke up around us. Most of them groaned and pressed hands to their faces. Justin wasn’t one of them. He locked onto us the moment he arrived back from slumber land.

“Don’t think you’ve won,” he said. “You got lucky, but it won’t happen again. I am going to crush you.”

None of us answered, except for Bianca of all people who stuck her tongue out at him.

“What?” she asked once we’d left. “He deserved it, trying to act tough while lying on the ground.”

“I just didn’t expect you to care so much.”

She looked away, focusing on the ground in front of us. “Yeah, well, maybe just a little.”

Compared to the last break, this one felt incredibly long. Probably because most of it was spent waiting. This round there would be no sacrifice-and-bait strategies or detailed flanking routes. Honestly, we’d had doubts we’d even make it this far, but now that we were here Justin would be taking things absolutely seriously. Too late to keep exploiting overconfidence.

There was just one trick left. We placed the seven uncapped water bottles we still had in a circle and waited. When the horn signaled the start of the final round, we waited. When the crowd roared their heads off, we waited. Until we could hear the Gold Regiment rushing toward us, flashes of swords showing through the trees, we waited, and then it was my turn. 

It wasn’t like in the past where I was bringing an entire creek down on everything in sight. All I had was a hundred something ounces of water to drop eight alert demigods… or come as close as I could. 

One of Justin’s bodyguards exploded from a bush. I emptied a bottle to form a watery bullet, but my aim was off. I only clipped the kid's ear. A second bullet caught him on the Adam’s apple and he fell coughing. 

Two more fell on us from different sides, engaging Po and John. I hit one in the ear and Po used the distraction to take him down. The other saw what was happening and was ready. It took four shots before I blinded her.

I grimaced. One shot left. The last five opponents came now, all as one group. 

Po fell almost instantly, still out of it from his brush with Nera. Emmitt joined him right after when Justin disarmed him in two swings. I spent the last water bottle in a hail-mary shot at Justin. He ducked it, and from that moment everything was a straight fight. 

Victoria met Justin in a swarm of slashes. The two went back and forth, trading hits that would do real damage if even a single one landed.

“Go down, second place!” Justin shouted. 

Victoria swung back harder.

There was only one person I was aiming for. Her name started with ‘N’ and she had a face that had gone too long un-punched.

Nera was darting between bodies like some sort of vengeful ferret. Whenever she got close to a Bronze Regiment fighter she would throw out a hand or stab her sword, trying to knock them out with visions or cuts. She hadn’t succeeded yet, but she was coming closer.

Proving my point, she snuck behind John and lunged for the back of his neck, fingers getting closer and closer...

Right until hit her at a full sprint and sent her tumbling across the ground. 

“You alright?” I asked.

“For now,” John said, and he ducked off to lead his opponent away.

Unfortunately, my bodycheck hadn’t done any lasting damage. Nera was back to her feet, sizing me up.

“Haven’t tasted your terror yet.” She licked her lips. “What’ll it be, I wonder.”

I raised Anthea. “You won’t get the chance to find out.”

I didn’t need any freaky powers to tell me what the worst moment of my life was. 

She cackled and swung for my neck. The edges of her standard issue sword had been chipped and shattered until they were serrated. It was a sword designed bleed, which gave me extra incentive to duck on time. 

The hand that reached up for my face when I did almost got me. Her fingertips swiped centimeters from my nose before I pulled back.

Nera might’ve been the most dangerous opponent I’d ever faced. Not only was she good with her sword, every part of her was a weapon. It didn’t matter if she poked my ear or brushed our ankles, one touch and my consciousness would be dumped back to a rainy Manhattan alley. 

If she had a weakness it was her temper. The longer I evaded the more she rushed things. Her grin was swapped first for a focused line, then for a scowl.

“Suffer already!” she shouted.

“No thanks,” I said, and dodged again. 

She was getting easier to avoid, but the openings weren’t big enough to safely take her out. I needed to get her distracted, something to get her off her game…

“What was that you were saying earlier? Seduction?”

“Shut up and fight,” she grunted. 

“But I’m curious. Whatever it is ‘ruining your life’ can’t be all that serious if seduction’s the solution.”

Even the fact I was trying to get a rise from her didn’t prepare me for the venom that crossed her face.

“I will eviscerate you,” she said. “Mutilate you. Slice you into bits and feed you to the birds. You will never understand what it feels like to want only one thing from life, knowing that you’ll never get it because of one insufferable asshole.”

It was working. Nera was getting more and more erratic. A tiny bit more and I would have the opening I was after. But time was running out. Vera had fallen. Our numbers were shrinking. 

“One asshole, huh? Who’re we talking about, Justin for not letting you kill people? A waiter that forgot your order?”

“Hades!” Nera howled. “If it weren’t for him I could be happy. But no, he has to go working my mom twenty four seven, every day of the year. Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to get away to make me? How many thousands of years it’ll be before she’ll be able to do it again?”

I’d expected something a bit more serious than mommy issues for her to have such a screwed up life, so much so that I nearly missed the opening I’d been angling for. Nearly.

She swung too hard, keeping her shoulder too straight. When her blade didn’t make contact it threw her off balance. I slammed her unprotected back so hard with the flat of my sword, the slap hurt my ears.

She didn’t cry out as she fell. She kept hold of her sword, too, not that it did her any good. Before she could catch her bearings my sword was leveled at her chest. 

“A little brother.” It was like the hit had slapped all the fire out of her. “That’s all I wanted. A cute sibling to spoil.”

“That’s a really dumb reason to be so crazy,” I told her. “You should feel bad.”

I poked her with my sword. 

Nothing happened. She swung back and I was forced to dive away or lose the ankle I still had. 

It didn’t make any sense. I definitely eliminated her just now, but no magic kicked in. She should’ve been doing a plank impression. Instead she rolled to her feet as fit as ever, except for a slight wince from her back.

“Another of the Bronze Regiment falls! John is disarmed, taking their numbers down to three. ” 

I wanted to shout to Prometheus, telling him to pay attention. The game was broken! But if he’d noticed Nera’s mysterious recovery, he was ignoring it.

Victoria had been hanging on against Justin, but now that she had to deal with a second opponent it was going downhill. Bianca was just about dodging the two that were after her. If I had to guess, it was because neither of them were trying their hardest. They knew as well as I did that Nera had her eyes on the girl, and they weren’t about to put themselves in the way of that. 

Our biggest problem was the number advantage. Screaming about the game glitching didn’t seem like it would do anything except make me feel better, so the numbers were what I focused on first. 

Rather than waiting around for Nera to attack me again, I turned and ran. She must not have expected it. It took a minute for her to react before she gave a shout and chased after me.

I led her straight for Victoria and the two attacking her. Justin saw me coming and tried too late to warn his teammate. Before the guy could turn around I was on him, snagging his wrist with my metal hand. 

My prosthetic was only a little stronger than a regular arm. Fun fact, though: a hand gripping you as hard as it can is a lot more painful when the fingers are bronze instead of flesh. 

The guy yelped and tried to pull back, but he couldn’t get away. I pulled him down behind me, straight into Nera’s path. 

Rather than trip on him or slow down to jump over, Nera put her boot straight on the guy's face and pushed off, slamming his head into the ground hard enough to send him seeing stars. 

“Nera!” Justin shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up Justin!” she shouted back. “Don’t get in my way!”

I veered off, Nera still hot in pursuit, and made for Bianca. 

“Look at that!” Prometheus’s voice echoed around me. “Taking advantage of a moment of terrible chemistry, Victoria has captured an opponent. The numbers difference shrinks from two to one!”

“They could really do this,” Kurt said. I couldn’t decide if I felt smug or indignant at how shocked he sounded by it.

The demigods going after Bianca looked like siblings, a boy and a girl with the same golden hair one shade lighter than the barrier dome. They worked well together, forcing Bianca around as she dodged and ducked and swung clumsily back with her knife. 

They were more aware than the last guy, because I wasn’t able to get the drop on them. As soon as I got close the boy peeled off to meet me, leaving his sister to handle Bianca. 

I tried to duck around him but he wasn’t having it. Maybe he’d seen what Nera did to the last ‘teammate’ that got in her way. He moved with me, forcing me to stop. 

Breathe in… breathe out. I focused completely on the two on either side of me. Two versus one wasn’t ideal, but I’d beaten worse odds.

Nera went to hack my stomach. I leaned back. Blondie went in for an overhead strike. I slid it off my metal forearm. They both swung from opposite sides, one going high the other going low. I leapt back, landing on my toes and rushing in again before they could take advantage. 

We fell into a rhythm. Their chemistry wasn’t bad, considering one of them’s idea of teamwork was using her friend as a springboard. I chalked that up to Blondie. He seemed to have a knack for understanding Nera’s style and changing up his own to complement it. 

But, like with every improvised team, they were far from perfect. Both of them were right handed. Their favorite offense was to swing at my left side, to the extent they’d trip over each other aiming for the same thing.

When it happened a third time I decided it was a pattern not a coincidence. So, the next time I attacked, I gave them something to aim at. 

I lunged and grabbed Blondie’s collar with my left arm. 

I could practically see the gears turning behind his blue eyes. He started to pull away, then stopped and let me grab hold. From there he wasted no time grabbing my wrist, holding my arm in place.

With my arm trapped and my sword stuck on the opposite side of my body, my left side was completely open. Nera didn’t need a second invitation. She darted past her companion, greedily aiming at the exposed spot she’d been unconsciously targeting anyway, just like I knew she would. 

I’m no math guy. Wasn’t, even before I dropped out in the second grade. Which is to say, I couldn’t tell you how small the window was to get this right, just that it was microscopic.

From the opposite side of my body I aimed Anfisa’s point at Nera. Then I wrapped my pinky around and gave the tip of the hilt a tap. 

Immediately, with a quiet whirring of gears, the sword narrowed and lengthened. The suddenly-appearing spear shaft rocketed across my chest, slipped just under my arm, and knocked Nera’s sword from her unsuspecting hands.

The move was so surprising that Blondie’s grip loosened. I pulled free, spun, and hit both of them across the stomach the same way Andi did to me at my first test. 

Unlike my monstrous former-teacher, I couldn’t send them flying. Not both of them anyway. Nera rolled backwards to lighten the impact, leaving her sword behind. Blondie keeled over where he stood and I tapped his back. Unlike earlier with Nera, the magic kicked in immediately.

It was only then, as some of the adrenaline bled away, that I realized I was grinning. I might’ve even let out a giggle or two. Moves weren’t the only thing Andi had left me with. 

Maybe that rush distracted me. Or I might have just been exhausted from the long night of fighting. Either way, I realized far too late what Nera was up to. 

She hadn’t just rolled to get away from me, she’d done it to get closer to someone else. And now, with me stuck too far away to do a thing, she sprung up… right next to Bianca.

Bianca was too busy dodging Blondie #2 to even see it coming. Nera pinched her ear like a scolding grandma.

For one long second, I hoped it would fail again. It happened once. Why not twice? 

Bianca screamed. 

She dropped her knife. Her hands shot up- one in front of her face as if trying to block off heavy winds, the other stretching for something beneath her. Her tanned skin went white. She didn’t say a word but she didn’t have to. The pain was clear across her face.

Nera cackled. “I am good. Look at that for terror!”

Bianca’s knees buckled. Her head struggled up.

“Oh?” Nera leaned down. “Trying to say something?”

Bianca’s arms shot out, grabbing Nera and holding her at eye level.”

“I said, fuck you. ”

For just a second, Bianca’s brown eyes flashed black. After that, things got confusing. Every shadow in a ten meter radius was sucked toward Nera as if she were a super magnet. The girl disappeared into a sphere of black that no amount of magic lighting could penetrate.

It didn’t last long. After five seconds the orb was showing cracks. After ten it had dissolved, tendrils streaming off like solid-black snakes and slithering into nothing. 

When the center was exposed Nera was on her knees. She looked comatose with her eyes open, her jaw gaping. Goosebumps coated her arms and neck. Bianca released her shoulders and she toppled sideways. 

Speaking of toppling over, Bianca looked about three-quarters of the way there herself. She sat down hard, but had just enough energy to take her fallen knife and jab it into Nera’s shoulder. I noticed she didn’t worry about breaking the skin, but Nera didn’t react- to the cut, or to the Prisoner marker that appeared above her.

I caught Blondie #2 eying Bianca’s back and glared. She caught my look and her eyes went from her brother, to Nera, then back. She gulped and threw her weapon aside, holding up her hands.

“What was that?” Kurt asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I rather wish you still hadn’t,” Prometheus said.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Don’t trouble yourself over it, though I do find myself asking you to finish the commentary on your own. You can handle that, can’t you?”

“Sir—”

“Excellent. So sorry for the inconvenience.”

Prometheus’ voice disappeared with a soft click. If there was even a physical booth somewhere, I got the feeling Prometheus had just pushed back his seat and flicked out of existence.

    “Uh, well, ladies and gentleman— I mean, we’re right at the end of it now,” Kurt stuttered as he adjusted to his new role. “The Gold Regiment is down Justin himself. It isn’t looking good for him.”

    Justin and Victoria were dusty, sweaty, and caked in enough little cuts to look like walking Neosporin advertisements. Compared to the start of the round they’d slowed to a crawl. Neither of them could find the intensity they’d been lashing out with earlier, although that wasn’t stopping both from trying.

    Honestly, I was a little shocked how well Victoria was doing. I always knew she was better in a fight than the others. But she had held on for ten straight minutes against the ‘best’ regiments ‘best’ swordsman. Now it was my turn to help her finish him off.

    I couldn’t tell you the details after I jumped into the fight, for two reasons. One, it wasn’t long. Two minutes, tops, probably a little shorter. And the second reason: I was enjoying myself way too much slapping Justin around.

    What I can tell you about in perfect detail is the end. We had maneuvered to either side of him, and he knew he could only block one of us. The realization washed over his face like dirty sewage. All that haughtiness mixed with sudden panic, as if what was happening was only just hitting him.

    “No!” he screamed.

    We struck, and he made his decision. He blocked my spear, parrying it with shaking hands. 

    And Victoria’s sword sliced through his collar, flat against his neck. 

    It was a shame he was the last one caught, because his outraged face would’ve looked great frozen for a lot longer than the three seconds until the horn sounded. Not that I needed any longer to memorize the sight and tuck it away in my happy memories drawer.

    It was incredible to hear the monsters roar like they hadn’t been threatening to turn us into snacks just thirty minutes earlier. Short-term memories, maybe. Or they were just distracted for now, and would go back to hating and hankering for our guts in a bit. Either way, if you weren’t looking, it felt kinda good, hearing the roaring approval and pretending it wasn’t coming from fanged, human-consuming creatures. 

    Victoria and I shared a look. Then we dropped, laughing, and let the thrill of victory and aching muscles wash over us while the monsters’ cheers moved toward a actual words:

    “Bronze Regiment! Bronze Regiment! Bronze Regiment!”

    (-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

We Visit a Bodybuilder at Midnight

The celebrations lasted all the way up the mountain into our base. As soon as we entered, though, we all stopped.

Someone had replaced the boards patching the ceiling with a perfectly-fitted skylight. A full-sized disco ball had been hung to sparkle with light from the moon. Streamers lined with bronze LEDs ran from corner to corner. Covering most of a previously-blank wall was a titanic 64 inch flatscreen tv, complete with gaming consoles, wireless speakers, and a state of the art karaoke system.

"Whoa…" said Emmitt.

"Who…" said Victoria.

"I think I know," I said.

A post-it note had been stuck to the disco ball with three words scribbled so messily I was probably the only one alive that could read them: Nice work. Enjoy.

"Go on!" I gave the others a soft push. "Have fun, they aren't a trap. Just watch out for extra features. And if the TV starts buzzing, duck and cover."

Pretty soon, everybody was partying harder than ever. Lucas had yanked one of the streamers down and was inspecting its edges, ranting to a distracted Alyssa about refining lights to such a size and its implications for making fake blood. I bounced around for a while, going from dancing the Macarena with Emmitt, to embarrassing myself with a terrible Final Countdown cover, to shoving my face with Goldfish crackers in an attempt to get back some of the calories I'd burned.

Sometime after most of the others had crashed, I found myself nursing a Capri Sun with my back to the room's only window. It was amazing how good fruit punch could taste after a long night of accidentally swallowing dust and flecks of mud.

"Join you?"

I turned to find Victoria, a juice of her own in each hand. She'd stripped out of her armor and let her hair down— literally as much as figuratively. I hadn't ever seen her without a ponytail, but now when she looked at anything, it was through a curtain of black hair.

I scooted over to make some room by the window.

"Thanks." For a minute we didn't say anything, watching the others with the dark courtyard at our backs. For all the ones that tapped out across the floor, a couple were still going. John was in front of the TV flicking joysticks with half-open eyes. He hadn't noticed yet that his Mario Kart opponent, Emmitt, had drifted off with the controller in his hands. John might not have stopped even if he did. The AI was getting pretty close to him.

Bianca had passed out against Alyssa's makeup station, and the girl was using that to slip some onto her while she slept. It seemed like it'd started as a prank drawing little stars under Bianca's eyes, but as she went on Alyssa got distracted trying to do it well, and was now touching up a second layer of eyeshadow.

"You know, I never actually apologized to you."

"Hm?" I turned back to Victoria, leaving people watching for later. "What for?"

"When we met. Blackmail isn't cool. I know that, but I was just so desperate."

Isn't cool wasn't a way I had heard a felony described before, but I shrugged and sipped my drink. "Don't worry about it. Everything ended well."

"No. I tried telling myself that, but I was just running away. After everything you did for me — for all of us — I can't accept that. So I'm saying it now. I'm sorry."

She bowed her head. I was really glad nobody else was watching, because I was already blushing. Cutting down a monster twice my size? Sure, why not. Weaponizing an entire creek? Give me a minute. Accepting gratitude? Way too much. What was I supposed to do with my hands?

"Erm, yeah. No problem. Really."

I chugged what was left in my Capri Sun before deciding to change topics.

"You know, I thought you'd be a bit more excited right now."

"I think I'm too excited," Victoria admitted. "Doesn't feel real yet. None of it does. Tomorrow morning I'll probably wake up screaming, but for now I'm still convincing myself it's not a dream."

"Well, if you do wake up screaming, I'm glad you sleep in the other room. Knowing you it would be at the crack of dawn."

"I think now is the crack of dawn." She leaned close to the window with her hand above her eyes. "It looks like there's a little light out there at least."

I saw what she meant. Right about the center of the window something was glittering, like a far off lamp or…

"That's a reflection!"

We spun and found a glittering two-dimensional shape hovering in the center of the room. A voice seemed to be coming from it, but it was soft and garbled, static buzzing over the words.

"Hello?—SHHHHHH—anybody—SHHH—there?"

Aelia was in my hand before I took a single step, but Victoria relaxed and pushed past me.

"It's an Arke Message," she said. "Somebody's trying to get a hold of us."

"Arke Message?"

"Like Iris Messaging, but through her sister, Arke. It's the titan's go-to for communication."

"Iris Messaging?"

"Ugh." Victoria rolled her eyes at me, like I was a grandpa asking what made some phones 'smart'. "You know. Make a rainbow, offer the Drachma, say a name, and bang! Instant video call. Were you raised under a rock?"

"A whole lot of them," I said. "And a bunch of soil, some roots, and worms." I leaned forward, inspecting the shape. Now that she mentioned it, it did sort of look like a rainbow… a really gimpy one, like the dim beginnings you sometimes saw near a real, bright rainbow. "So why is this one from Arke? No offense, but it seems pretty crappy."

"Cut her some slack. She had her wings chopped off by Zeus for running to the titans during the last war. Never really recovered from it. Think of her like AT&T and her sister as Verizon, if AT&T had one bar everywhere because they made bad business decisions and got mutilated for it."

"Sounds like really bad business decisions then. So how do we answer it?"

"Oh, answering it." Victoria blinked like the idea was just coming back to her. "Right. That would be a good idea, wouldn't it."

She gave the disk a tap, careful not to put her finger through it, and said, "Victoria Champion accepts this message."

She nudged me. "Repeat that yourself. Arke's too weak right now to send automatic messages like her sister does. If you don't tell her you accept, she can't get it through."

I was beginning to wonder if there was anything she could do, like maybe she was a great chef or something, because this was starting to sound like a dating bio filled with only bad points. Weak, flightless, inferior copy of her sister with terrible decision making and a traumatic past. And Ready to mingle!

"I'm Percy Jackson, and I endorse—"

"Accept!"

"—and I accept this message."

The blurry light crackled, chirped, and began to crystallize. In a second what had been indecipherable had become a familiar blonde face, down to his scar. When Luke spoke, his voice came out almost as clear as the sound system on our newly-delivered tv.

"What were you guys doing? I've been trying to get through for minutes."

I decided answering was probably my job, considering Victoria had ducked the second she saw Luke, trying desperately to re-tie her ponytail.

"That's weird, it only just popped up. Maybe Arke is feeling extra wingless today?" The borders of the message flashed, like the rainbow wanted to wrap nonexistent hands around my throat and squeeze. "What'd you need, anyway?"

"You," Luke said. "Both of you, and one more. Bring Bianca to the Planning Room. It's important."

I was glad he dropped the whole leaving him hanging thing, but I didn't like how serious he sounded. "Now?"

But Luke had already karate chopped the display, cutting the call dead.

—-

I was glad to find Victoria knew what this "Planning Room" was, because I'd sure never heard of it.

"It's deep inside the main base," Victoria explained as we power walked across the freezing courtyard. She had finished her hair and even found time to touch up her makeup before she dragged Bianca and I down the stairs in record time. "Not many people see it, but all the Regiment leaders know how to get there. When something really important is going down, that's where it starts."

"Like now?" I said.

"It better be important." Bianca yawned, rubbing under her eye. She seemed puzzled when her hand came away smudged, and I realized she probably hadn't seen a mirror since Victoria shook her awake. Oh well. It was too late to do anything about Alyssa's work now.

The main hall wasn't crowded. The Dracaena working reception waved us through without looking up.

We took a succession of those home-mimicking hallways in a direction I'd never been before- heading down, like to the forges or Bianca's former cell, but in a different direction, right at the fortress's center.

While we jogged I caught Bianca staring at what was wallpaper and shag carpet for me, but for her must've been completely different.

"See something strange?" I asked.

She frowned. "I just expected different design sense from the titans. I mean, I know they decorated my hall with kitten paintings of all things, but hardwood floors and felt walls? Really?"

"It's based on your memories," I said, feeling smart for being on the other side of the conversation this time. "Whatever feels like home in your head is what it will show you."

"Can't be." Bianca shook her head. "I've never seen this stuff in my life."

"What? That doesn't make any—"

"Guys."

Victoria was gesturing for our attention, having stopped in front of a door that, now that I looked at it, was a lot more impressive than the others lining the hallway.

It looked like wood at a glance, but was actually metal painted brown and riddled with screws. It had no handle, but there was one of those rectangular slits, the kind you saw in movies that someone slides open asking for a password. What made this one different was that it wasn't on the door at all, instead built into the wall just beneath the ceiling… at least twelve feet off the ground.

Victoria knocked sharply three times, paused, then struck it twice more. For a minute nothing happened. Then I heard grunting and shuffling. The rectangle slid open.

"Hellooo? Is anybody thereee?"

A pupil the size of my head panned right and left, looking about four feet above where our heads stopped, before disappearing again.

"Hey!" Victoria repeated the knock. This time, when the eyes appeared, she shouted, "Tityos, look down!"

The eye blinked, then slid down the wall to look at us. "Oh," said a voice from the other side. "'Bodies is there."

I heard the sounds of locks unbolting, followed by metal scraping on metal. The door opened slowly, screaming the whole way, until it was open just wide enough for us to slip through. Victoria darted in, turnings sideways when she needed to, and Bianca and I followed right after.

I don't know what I expected to find, but after ten minutes of walking through hallways to get there, a cavernous space with a glass ceiling higher than an air hanger's wasn't it.

We were on a cobblestone path winding through a garden. No, that doesn't do it justice. This was the garden.

Full grown Eucalyptus trees lined every wall. Grass up to my waist swayed in nonexistent wind. Flowers in dozens of colors poked through the sea of green, little dots of color. And on the far side, right next to a grand set of pillared steps, was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen laden with juicy golden apples.

Then Victoria caught me looking and said, "It's a nice replica, isn't it?"

I coughed. "Replica!?"

"Of course. The real garden's lower on the mountain, by the entrance. I'll show you sometime. They don't let just anybody close, but being a regiment leader comes with its perks."

"If the real one's so close," Bianca said, "why bother making a fake?"

"To keep him from feeling homesick."

Bianca and I shared a look. "Who?"

Before Victoria could answer, the giant that opened the door for us clapped.

"Friends here," he boomed. "Why here, friends?"

He'd closed the door immediately after opening it, quickly lumbering to what looked like a cat's dream: the largest cardboard box I had ever seen. The thing was bigger than a tank, and the giant — Tityos, Victoria had called him — had crawled straight in through a giant-sized hole that he was now peeking out from.

"We were summoned, Tityos," Victoria said. "Is everyone in the meeting room?"

"Yes," said Tityos. "Liver Buddy looking angry."

"Liver buddy?" I mumbled as Victoria thanked him and led us down the cobblestone path.

"He means Prometheus," she said. "Both of them spent a couple centuries getting their livers pecked out by vultures. They really bonded over the experience. Prometheus even got him a job here as a guard, although he spends most of the time hiding in that box. The sky gives him flashbacks."

I picked a purple bud off one of the passing plants. "Prometheus angry, huh? That's hard to picture. Wonder if it's got anything to do with how he ditched his commentary gig."

Right after Bianca's stunt with the shadows went unsaid, but I could tell all of us were thinking it. That she'd been specifically asked for, right afterwards in the middle of the night, didn't bode well either.

"I don't know, Percy." Victoria set her eyes on the Greek-style pagoda ahead of us. "But I know where we can find out."

Walking up those stairs and passing between the pillars, it was hard not to feel that you were stepping into somewhere important. A pressure hit you, like someone was pressing on where your jaw met your skull with two fingers.

Luke and Prometheus were opposite each other, leaning over a table that was built into the floor with fused, spindly legs. Like the outside of the base, the shelter's architecture was clearly Greek. It looked like a meeting spot philosophers might've gathered at a thousand years ago in Athens, except the marble was as dark as the night sky above us.

Speaking of the sky, not far away, just behind the marble structure, even the glass disappeared from the ceiling. There was nothing keeping the night air out, and it was taking full advantage as it seemed to bend inside through the open gap. It was difficult to describe, a funnel of stars swirling down to rest on a pair of extremely burly shoulders.

"Hey kids," boomed a kneeling man with dark skin and a military cut. "Switch with me a second? I've really got to go number two."

"Ignore him." Luke didn't spare the man a glance, apparently used to the presence of a squatting bodybuilder at crucial meetings.

"Don't be like that." Suddenly the bodybuilder began to morph, until it was an ancient but somehow equally jacked grandpa in his place. His t-shirt read: Help an old man hold up the sky?

Opposite Luke, leaning over the other side of a table decked in maps and open books, Prometheus sighed. "I'm afraid my brother is always like this. Centuries of bearing the sky would do it to anyone you understand, but that doesn't make the begging pleasant to be around."

"Begging?" All of the sudden the old man morphed back to a traditional bodybuilder, his dark muscles rippling. "I'll show you begging, Prometheus. Just come here and take the sky a second while I get some hits in."

"Yes, yes," Prometheus demurred. "The strength all went to you, Atlas, and clearly not a drop of the intellect."

"Enough."

Luke pushed himself up from the table, crossing his arms authoritatively. I could've sworn I saw Prometheus' eye twitch.

"We aren't here to talk about Atlas, much as he may wish we were."

"Just set me free! Get the sky off of me and I'll win the war for you all on my own! The greatest General, the—"

"I'll tell Kronos you were whining again." Luke eyed Atlas from the corner of his eye. "Good. Much better. Now, you three."

He turned our way, and the nerves must've shown on mine and Bianca's faces. Victoria wasn't included because she was a statue, just like she always was in front of Luke. Somehow, she had completely mastered the art of hiding emotion in front of her crush.

"Don't look so scared!" Luke said. "You're here for an opportunity, not a punishment."

"In my experience, opportunities don't mean getting called away in the middle of the night," I said.

"HAH! That is because you're young!" barked Atlas, earning himself twin glares.

"Think of this as a first then," Luke told me. "You've been selected for a Feat."

That got a variety of reactions. I remembered Emmitt talking about those, super important missions that only a couple people had ever completed. Bianca, who never got the M-O, looked lost. But the biggest reaction went to Victoria, who's mouth dropped open.

"A second one?" she asked excitedly.

But Luke only shook his head.

"Not for you. For these two."

Right away, she was back to withdrawn. "Ah, makes sense."

"Before we go any further," Luke said, "Bianca, there's somebody that wants to meet you."

Bianca's forehead creased. "Can I ask who?"

"Let me guess," I said. "He likes scythes and plays around with time."

Atlas chuckled like artillery as Luke winced. "Slightly risky tone there, Perce. But it is who you're thinking of."

"Ms. Champion, if you would be so kind as to guide Ms Di Angelo to the waiting room?" Prometheus prompted.

Victoria snapped off a salute. "Right away, sir."

She led Bianca around back down the path we'd arrived from. Before they got out of sight, Prometheus called, "Ms. Di Angelo!"

They stopped, and Bianca looked curiously over her shoulder.

"Trying out a new look takes courage. It looks quite good on you."

Bianca looked puzzled, but Victoria was stifling a laugh as she led her away.

"Now," Luke said. "Back to business."

"There is a mission," Prometheus told me. "An extremely difficult one, fraught with danger and risk. But overstating its importance would be impossible. Truly, success here could move our victory closer by years."

I was beginning to suspect I wouldn't like the answer, but I asked, "What task are we talking about here?"

"A trip," Luke said.

"But first, a bit of history," Prometheus added.

The titan snapped his fingers and the largest map strewn across the table fluttered into the air, suspended in energy the same color as The Competition barrier. A pen floated up too, straight into Prometheus' hand where it was promptly uncapped.

"Western Culture is far reaching," he said. "Across most of North America and near all of Europe, we titans wield significant power." To demonstrate, he drew a little stick figure Prometheus, even pausing to scribble on the scars. The stick figure was smiling somewhere over Utah, with little lightning bolts above its head. "However, this is not true everywhere in the world. Some lands we want nothing to do with. Others are already occupied, by neighbors we'd rather not be drawn into yet another spat with. And some regions? Well, they are too remote for us to have much say in at all."

This time, he drew a new Prometheus above Greenland. This Prometheus was frowning, and instead of lightning bolts it had sad little squiggles.

"That's interesting and all, but what does it have to do with a Feat?"

"Patience, Percy. So it is these regions lie beyond our power, but that does not mean they are empty. Many creatures make their homes in the far north. Monsters, spirits, and, occasionally, more."

He drew a big circle over southern Alaska, and Luke took over.

"There's a tribe of giants you may have heard of. People call them the Hyperboreans. When Western Culture moved overseas, they landed in Alaska. What we need is to recruit them to our side."

The name rang a bell, something I was sure Daedalus had quizzed me on once upon a time.

"Weren't there only three of them?" I asked. "Doesn't exactly seem like war winning reinforcements."

"There were," Prometheus said. "Long ago, at least. But the people that lived among them were large in size themselves, and in time the giants fathered children. Today their descendants live among them as a new, varied race. Less powerful than the originals, but far more numerous. A lesson in war, if you will: fifty competent swords kill more surely than a single strong one."

"Keep talking about war," Atlas called. "It makes me chuckle to watch you act like you know something, as if you ever stepped out of your libraries long enough to even watch."

Prometheus ignored him. "There is a problem however. I must go personally to ensure we win them over. Usually, that would mean doing this."

He made a fist in front of his drawing, and the stick figure over Utah disappeared. He brought the fist across the map to Florida and opened his palm. The figure reappeared in Miami.

"Divine travel, a nearly instant trip. Except, when one tries to go North…"

He repeated the action, heading toward Alaska. Soon after passing the Canadian border his hand stopped, as if rebounding off an invisible wall.

"As you can see, travel is not possible. And that is not the only thing that's limited. Were I to be attacked in such a place I would be vulnerable. Seeing as we are at war, that is an incredible risk to take."

"For you maybe!" Atlas snorted. "Maybe if you were to get killed they'd finally free me. Now that would be an upgrade."

"Quiet you!" Prometheus snapped. "Anyway, Percy, you can see our conundrum. If I am to make this trip, it will need to be with protection."

I did feel like I was starting to see, and I had a sneaking suspicion that 'protection' in this case walked on two legs.

"Say I went with you…" I let it hang in the air, seeing if they would laugh it off and correct me. Nobody did. "If I went with you, wouldn't I end up useless too? My powers come from my… dad. Shouldn't they be going haywire as much as yours?"

"Mortality is a double-edged sword," Prometheus explained. "You can die at any time, but you are also less bound than us immortals. Freedom to die, freedom to travel, freedom to choose your fate. All of it is linked. I assure you, your powers will be just as potent in Anchorage as they would be in Atlanta."

I gulped. I felt the walls closing in, squeezing me toward a crazy trip playing bodyguard for one smooth talking immortal diplomat.

"Why us?" I asked. "You asked for me and Bianca specifically. In the middle of the night, too. Obviously you think it's important that we're the ones to do this, and you want it as soon as possible."

"Told you he was sharp," Luke mumbled to Prometheus, who only smiled.

"You ask why the two of you," the titan said. "I ask in return, who else would you entrust your protection to in my shoes? The Competition is surely proof enough of that."

I wasn't willing to let it go just yet. "Me I get. I've had personal training and I know my way around a fight. But Bianca? She just got free last week!"

"Then maybe seeing a bit of the world would be best for her," Prometheus suggested.

"Prometheus and I nominated one each," Luke said, "and you two are who we came up with. She might be inexperienced, but there's only one way to change that. Besides, who you bring as a third is up to you. And you'll be there to look out for her, won't you? What better way for her to learn to use all that power she has."

Abruptly, Atlas started laughing.

"What's all this bootlicking?" He chortled. "Oh, little demigods, you're so amazing and beautiful and powerful! BAH! Why don't you repeat some of what you were going on about before they got here, or are you too scared to be honest even to your own soldiers?"

He smiled a mouthful of square white teeth as Luke and Prometheus tried to decapitate him via glares. Eventually, after a solid twenty seconds of the staring match, Prometheus cleared his throat.

"There is one more thing," he admitted. "Bianca and yourself are both tremendously powerful among your kind. It's no exaggeration to say the day may come when one of you decides our rebellion's success or failure."

"And we hardly know Bianca," Luke finished.

"Hardly know either of you," Prometheus corrected, shooting me an apologetic look. "Luke vouches for you, but your presence in our ranks is still untested, much as I may like you."

I felt a headache coming on. "So this whole thing is a test. Great, I just love those." Then another thought popped into my head. "Wait, what happens if we fail?"

"Depends on how," Luke said. "There are two ways you can. The first is if you fall during the journey."

"Meaning we die." I shook my head. "Great. And what about the other?"

"The other," Luke said, "would be showing signs of disloyalty. A soft spot for the gods, lack of dedication to the cause, general incompetence… Basically anything which implies you're a risk to Kronos."

"And if that happens?"

Atlas laughed, booming over Luke's attempt to answer. "That is an easy one. You get thrown into Tartarus or tossed to the monsters, whichever is quickest!"

It wasn't Altas' cackles or the wind from his burden that chilled my bones. It was that Luke and Prometheus weren’t correcting him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

Victoria Tells a Bedtime Story

Four hours after Victoria woke up shouting just like she predicted she would, I grabbed Bianca and dragged her to a certain workshop.

“Anybody here?” I called as we entered.

    It was incredible over the course of just two weeks the mess Daedalus had managed to make. The tables that had been clear and tidy at our first training session had sunk beneath piles of gears, cogs, and stranger hunks of metal I couldn’t even name. It had gotten to the point that when we trained, Daedalus took me to a separate room just to have some space. 

    A couple gears tumbled noisily to the floor as a hand stabbed out from the largest pile.

    “Over here, Percy. Give me a second.”

    One second for Daedalus usually meant at least five minutes, which gave us plenty of time to amble across the room and admire the cocoon he’d built for himself.

    It had originally been a chair, and probably still was somewhere deep inside. But every mechanical part anyone could ever need had started a ring around the base and grown six feet up. Whenever Daedalus needed something the clicking of laptop keys would pause, and his hand would snag the part from the multitude in arms reach.

    “Uh, Percy?” Bianca eyed the mound with trepidation. “Is that junk pile talking?”

    I chuckled. “Don’t worry. Someone’s inside there.”

    If anything, that made her worry more. “By choice?”

    “Yes. If he could, he’d walk everywhere like this. He calls it—”

    “Optimal Configuration.”

    Metal cascaded down as the man rose from the mess, tucking his laptop under his arm.

    “The art,” he said eagerly, “is in the proximity of the parts. By removing the need to stand up, I improve efficiency by over 25% percent.” He held out his hand. “Daedalus, young lady. I assume Percy has mentioned me?”

    When they shook Bianca’s hand came away smudged with oil, and she hastily wiped it on her pants.

    “So,” Daedalus said, stepping past us to grab an entire pot of coffee like a mug. “To what do I owe the sudden visit?”

    I poured out everything from the night before— the Feat, that we’d been nominated, and what was on the line if we failed.

    When I’d finished, Daedalus took a swig from the pot. “How serious.”

    I blinked. “That’s it? I thought you would be a little more, I don’t know, surprised?”

    “Well, there is the fact Luke informed me last night, though he took greater pains to beat around the bush. But also, I expected something like this.”

    “You did?” Here I was thinking something crazy had happened, and Daedalus was playing it like I’d told him the coffee ran out.

    Actually, scratch that. Coffee got him much more worked up.

    “Of course,” Daedalus said. “In fact, I think it high time you knew something I should have told you earlier.”

    He clapped three times, against his wrist since he was still holding the coffee and laptop in his other arm. The door we’d entered from slammed shut, followed by an electric whine. The lights dimmed, and new ones began to glow softly across the floor.

    “I made a few adjustments,” Daedalus said, like that explained James Bond-esque shift. “No workshop of mine will be without defensive measures.” He shivered. “Or escape routes.”

    “What about our old one?” I asked.

    He gave me a deadpan stare. “It was buried in The Labyrinth, Percy. What defenses could be better than that?”

    “Point.”

    “Uh, hello?” Bianca raised her hand, glancing worriedly at the altered room. “Sorry if I’m overreacting here, but are you about to kidnap us and chop us up or something?”

    Daedalus laughed. “Quite the opposite. These defenses are to keep meddlers out, not to hold anybody in. By my estimates, this is the third most secure room in the entire base.”

    “What’s ahead of it?” I asked. 

    “Well that planning room has some wonderful defensive enchantments, and then there’s the— ah! I’m getting distracted. Before anyone begins to notice this little meeting, what do the two of you know of prophecies?”

—————————-

    Over the next five minutes Daedalus told us a story of Oracles, world war, and bone-chilling predictions. All the suspicions I’d been harboring but were just that, suspicions, grew into something more. 

    No wonder Kronos was desperate enough to offer my mom’s soul. Daedelus wasn’t privy to the prophecy’s actual wording, but the gist of it was clear. 

    The next child of The Big Three to hit sixteen would find the fate of the gods sitting in their lap. 

    “You never once thought to mention this until now?”

    If I expected Daedalus to look guilty, I was disappointed. 

    “Knowing would have placed immense pressure on you,” he said. “Especially when it’s still uncertain who the child of the prophecy will be. At one point I was convinced you were the only option, and then you returned ranting about a daughter of Zeus.”

    Bianca looked curious as I shook my head. “We saw how that one turned out, didn’t we?”

    “The point is that you never know who else might be out there. The world is a large place, and the gods are not known for restraint. After a couple decades, you never know which of them might forget an old promise…”

    He turned to Bianca, and something clicked in my head. He was telling all of this to her along with me. It could have just been coincidence that I brought her along when he planned to spill everything. But that wasn’t how Daedalus worked. If he wanted me to be the only one hearing this, he would’ve found a way.

    “You don’t think…”

    Daedalus smiled. “Throwing off the touch of Melinoe. Calling on shadows. Important enough that Kronos would take great risk to abduct her alive just a few hours North of Olympus. Nothing is certain, but were I forced to guess… you, my girl, are a daughter of Hades, ruler of the underworld, king of ghosts.”

——-

    Daedalus gave us some snacks and chatted a while longer, but neither of our heads were in it. Words like “Prophecy” and “Hades” were rattling around them distracting us, and about an hour after arriving we let him get back to work.

    As we picked our way back through the halls I asked Bianca, “What do you think about all this?”

    Her eyes were set straight down the hall. “What should I think? So my dad might be important. Since I’ve never met him, that doesn’t mean much to me.”

    “So it might be true?”

    “No idea. Maybe? I don’t…” She rubbed her face. “Drop it. Instead, I’d rather talk about how you let me meet Kronos looking like a clown ! ”

    I absolutely was not giggling as I said, “It’s fine, right? He looks pretty goofy right now himself.”

    “That’s true,” Bianca said. “How he’s a blank silhouette except for that one eye.”

    “Huh? Eye?”

    I was so distracted by talk of an eye that I forgot to use my own. I didn’t notice the person coming around the corner until our heads smashed together. We stumbled, falling in opposite directions.

“Oww,” they said, rubbing their head. “Do you even try to watch where you’re going?”

    My vision swam back from fuzzy and I said, “It’s you!”

    The demigod Bianca and I had chatted with after The Competition’s first round shook his head, pushing curly brown hair out of his face. “My name’s Kai.”

    “Are you alright, Kai?” Bianca helped him up. We made eye contact, and I held out my arms to show I was on the ground too. She mouthed, ‘Karma’.

    I helped myself up. “Well, sorry about that Kai. If I knock you over again, I’ll make sure it’s on purpose.”

    I stepped around him, and we started down the hall.

    “Wait.”

    Just before Kai was out of view, I stopped. “What is it?”

    I thought maybe I’d given him a concussion or something, because his face looked pretty goofy. His eyes were flitting around the hall, and his mouth was set in a line.

    “I wasn’t going to say anything but shoot, running into you here feels like a sign.”

    “I’m glad smacking my skull could help you out. Usually, my hard head only gives people problems.”

    “Cut the jokes a minute,” he said. “I’m serious about this. Somebody is after you.”

    That did sound serious.

    “Why?” Bianca asked.

    He shook his head. “Couldn’t tell you.”

    “Who?” I asked.

    “No clue.” He saw both of us about to snap, and held up his hands. “I don’t know much alright. But before The Competition, things got pretty weird. Nera went crazy.”

    “Anybody that’ll kill because she didn’t get the imaginary brother she wanted is already crazy in my book,” I told him.

    “That’s just it!” Kai snapped his fingers. “She’s always whining about the brother thing, sure. But killing over it? She never goes that far. The nightmares suck, but they’re her form of pranks. I’ve never seen her get any more extreme than that.”

    I felt a draft down my back. It might’ve sounded like a guy making excuses for his friend, but with how he talked about her during The Competition that didn’t seem likely. Besides, it matched a little too well with her escape from elimination.

    “That’s not all. I… saw something, something I don’t think I was supposed to. About a week ago, right after you beat the Silver Regiment, I was having trouble sleeping. Wandered down to take a walk, and all of a sudden I’m hearing voices. Nera talking to some guy. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but I peaked down to try and see who it was, you know. The guy was all wrapped up in a cloak, no skin showing. What’s even weirder? The second I look at him his head snaps toward me, like he knew exactly where I was. I ducked and ran to bed. I was sure I was going to get dragged away in the middle of the night but it never happened. The next day, Nera seemed crazier than ever.”

    “How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Bianca asked.

    “You don’t I guess. But if I disappear, at least now somebody will know why.”

    He looked like he might say more, but just then a Laistrygonian lumbered into the hall and Kai darted off like a frightened rodent. Bianca and I shared a look.

    “He seemed less crazy last night,” she said. 

    But I had already committed everything to memory. Better safe than sorry, and I had a feeling choosing sorry here might mean getting us killed.

———————————

Word came that night by Arke Message: tomorrow was the day of departure. That meant it was time to get packing, but more importantly to dive into the question we’d been putting off. Who would go as a third?

    We would be choosing in-regiment. No way I was bringing someone I hardly knew to watch our backs. I still hardly knew some of the Bronze Regiment, but at least with them they’d done it before. 

    Right off the bat, Vera took herself out of the running.

    “It’s only one spot, right? I’m not leaving Aurora.” She patted her sleeping friend, who had been comatose since her heroics in The Competition. Not that that was anything unusual. “Besides, I doubt we’d be much help. It was hard enough for us to travel without trying to get somewhere.”

    “I, uh—” Alyssa studied the mat she was sitting on. “I don’t really have a good reason, but I don’t want to go. Sounds scary.”

    “What about Victoria?” I asked, remembering how excited she got when Luke first mentioned a Feat. “You don’t want to go?”

    The already tense atmosphere thickened to unbearable levels. Nobody would look me in the eye except Bianca, who seemed equally confused, and Victoria, who smiled but shook her head.

    “Sorry, but the leader can’t exactly pack up and leave. I’ve got too much to do. Besides, Feats and I don't go well together.”

    “Ah,” I said. “Sure. Makes sense.”

    Thankfully the awkward atmosphere didn’t last. Lucas leaned forward, creasing his trenchoat’s collar.

    “This task sounds thoroughly terrifying,” he said. “I would gladly go, if you would have me.”

    “Me too.” John rubbed the back of his head, blushing slightly. “Like Vera, I’m not sure I’d be much help. But if you want me I’m willing. Us children of Lethe don’t get many chances to be remembered.”

    “I too volunteer my services,” said Po. “Tough contracts are no more than a challenge to a Shinobi.”

    Only Emmitt hadn’t said one way or another, and he didn’t seem like he was about to, looking down playing with his thumbs. Sitting there under the expectant looks, I realized it was my turn to make a decision.

    But who the hell did I pick? Everyone had their own strengths, but that wasn’t the only thing I had to think about. There was no guarantee any of us would be coming back, let alone all of us.

    Picking someone here might turn out to be a death sentence.

    “We need a second to choose.” I stood up, grabbing Bianca’s wrist and dragging her from the room.

    ——

    For a couple minutes Bianca and I stood on the bridge that connected the main room to the boys bunks, feeling the chilly night air.

    “Alright.” Out of nowhere, Bianca turned back to the room we’d come from. “It’s cold out here. I’m going back in.”

    “Huh? Come on, we have to make a decision!”

    Bianca stopped halfway and gave me a look. “No, Percy, you have to make a decision. You know what to expect out there. You know how to plan for a fight. Whatever you said I would just be going along with, anyway.”

    She grabbed the door handle, started to open it, and paused. “Besides, there’s somebody much better than me to help you choose.”

    Before she went inside she held the door open, stepping out of the way for the person that had been waiting to come outside when she got there.

    “Try not to let him mope too much, Victoria. I hate the face he makes when he does, it’s even dopier than usual.”

    With that Bianca disappeared into the warm, well-lit room leaving us alone.

    Victoria walked quietly to my side.

    “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

    I looked at her in surprise. “You’ve had to choose for a Feat before?”

    “Well, no, this is a little more extreme. But I know the feeling. Anything can go wrong at any time, Percy. I knew a girl last year that went out for patrol and came back missing an arm.”

    I rapped on my shoulder. “I can relate.”

    She ignored me. “The point is, every time you give someone a mission, the idea is there. What if they don’t come back? Is it my fault? The answer, as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, is yes.”

    “But that doesn’t give me the right not to choose.” She faced me. “It’s because it’s awful that I need to be the one making the choice. I won’t allow that sort of guilt to tear up anybody else.”

    “Feel like making it for me then?” I joked.

    She snorted. “Call it a prediction, but I get the feeling you’ll be making much bigger decisions than I ever will. Look at The Competition. I might be the regiment leader, but it was you giving orders firing everybody up.”

    I winced. “Sorry about that.”

      Her eyes widened. “No! I’m not complaining, just trying to show you something. You’re a leader Percy, like it or not. Hard decisions will come with that.”

    It’s hard to keep burying your head in the sand when someone goes and makes good points like that. I sighed. She was right, of course. I knew I had to choose, and I knew at the end of the day I would. I just… wanted to run away a bit longer.

    She broke eye-contact, resting her elbows on the guardrail. The ocean breeze blowing up the mountain scoured our faces, smelling of salt and pine. 

    “My mom is Nike,” she said. “I’m not sure I ever actually, you know, told you that.”

    “Any connection to the company?”

    “Yes, actually. Hilarious story. But mom has always had a bit of a… special relationship with her kids.”

    I wasn’t sure there was a god-mortal relationship that qualified as normal, but I asked, “Special how?”

    “You see her once a year as soon as you turn five. At least, that’s how it was for me. She would show up, always on my birthday, and ask a simple question: ‘What have you won?’”

    “She already knows the answer. One time when I was seven, I lied and told her my soccer team won a tournament after we lost the final. She frowned at me. The very next game, I snapped my ankle. But what’s really bad is if you don’t win anything. Then she just disappears. Unless you win something huge to make up for it, you never see her again.”

    I held the guardrail a little tighter than was probably good for it or my fingers. “Jeez. You would think she’d try a bit harder to win some mom of the year awards.”

    Victoria snorted despite herself. “I guess they don’t make her bucket list.” Then her eyes went faraway. She chewed her bottom lip. “Believe it or not, I actually joined the titans with someone else.”

    “Seriously?”

    “Seriously,” she said. “We were at Camp Half-Blood together, both stuck in the Hermes Cabin because our parents didn’t have their own. When we got word about this place, we ran away. This son of Zelus.”

    “No way,” I said, because there was only one son of Zelus I knew. “You can't seriously be telling me…”

    “That Justin and I joined together?” Victoria smirked. “We were even dating.”

    I started laughing. “Alright, you got me. I bet my face will look hilarious on video. So, where’s the camera?”

    “No prank. Our parents were so similar — victory and rivalry are sides of the same coin — and we were both stuck in Cabin Eleven… At the time he was so cute and supportive.”

    “I don’t even have words to describe the ew.” 

    “Everyone has cringey teenage memories, Percy.” She patted my head. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

    “I’m fourteen!”

    “Exactly, and I’m seventeen. Just wait, immature little tadpole.”

    I decided to do the mature thing, just to prove her wrong, and stuck out my tongue.

    She gave me a little elbow to the side, and I gave her one back. We spent a minute nudging each other before settling back down.

    “It didn’t last. Obviously.”

    “What happened?” I asked.

    Her eyes fixed on an incomplete portion of the wall, staring into the swirling black mist like it was a portal into the past. “It started with a Feat. The first one, actually. They say Luke did one, but whatever he did was long before there was a system or a name or anything like that. This was the first proper Feat.”

    “There was only one Regiment back in those days. We had no leader. Honestly it was just a couple of kids that had run away from Camp or been picked up like strays. Then Kronos sent word: we were getting the chance to prove ourselves.”

    “Turned out, some grunt Dracaena had stumbled onto a seriously important item. The crown of their original queen who mated with Hercules.”

    I pulled a face. “Hercules really looked at a woman with snakes from the waist down and said she’s the one ?”

    “It was to get his cows back. Don’t underestimate what that does to a man. But this was no queen that found the crown, at least she wasn’t beforehand. As soon as she realized what she had she took over the main Everglades colony and began throwing her weight around, threatening to pull support from the titans if they didn’t send her rats and young men. Stuff like that.”

    “Let me guess,” I said. “It was your job to go steal that crown.”

    “And kill the fake queen, if we could. It wasn’t easy. Our third… he didn’t make it out of the swamp. Justin and I did by the skin of our teeth. It was when we were limping back to the car we’d, erm, borrowed, that things got even worse.”

    “Our parents appeared in front of us. Nike and Zelus in all their armored, tracksuited glory.”

    “Tracksuited?”

    “We were thrilled at first. Thought they had come down to congratulate us on a job well done, maybe snap their fingers and teleport us into some clean clothes.” Victoria shook her head— not so much actively angry. More like a veteran reminiscing on decade-old memories. “There was only one thing they cared about. Who had won?”

    I cocked my head. “Both of you, right?”

    “Try telling that to them. ‘There is no room on a podium for two,’ my mom says.” Victoria looked to the sky and shouted, “There’s room for three, idiot!” Then she sighed and shook her head. “What came next is simple: they handed us swords and told us to fight. The loser would be branded a coward that tried to run, and the winner would be the hero who dragged them back and finished Feat on their own.”

    I had a long history of hating my dad. It was hard not to when I’d never even met him and still managed to lose the only family I had to his mistakes. But standing there on that bridge, I felt my estimation of him rise— from worst parent in the world, all the way up to third from bottom. 

    “Did you fight?”

      Victoria shook her head. “I threw down my sword. Told them they were crazy. If they wanted a fight so bad, they could do it themselves instead of appearing in front of us like Vultures. I got so fired up, I hardly noticed the sword that had stabbed me.”

    She lifted her shirt above the ribs, revealing a tall, thin white scar stark against her tan skin. An image of a laurel wreath with wings coming out the sides and a sideways sandal at the base had been burned onto the skin around the scar, as if with a cattle brand.

    “My mother’s mark,” Victoria explained, lowering her shirt. “She left it there before the sword was even out of my stomach. Said it would keep me from forgetting, and I haven’t seen her since.”

    Aelia was practically singing to transform. I might not have been able to find Nike, but I had a pretty good idea where Justin was, and I had the urge to show him exactly what a sword through the stomach felt like.     “And you never mentioned this before The Competition why?”     “Because if I brought it up before, it wouldn’t have been his collar that I cut last night. I don’t want to kill him. For a person like that, getting embarrassed is a hundred times more painful.”

    I thought both sounded pretty good, but I grit my teeth. It was her choice.

    “After we arrived back I was shunned. Nobody questioned the story, not with my own mothers mark as proof. Justin was made leader, and I drifted to the periphery. He must’ve felt guilty, because he went out of his way to keep me down. When the regiments finally split up, I volunteered to take over the third and got the job. The rest is history.”

    I wasn’t sure which was worse: what had happened to her, or that even after all that she still saw the side she was on as the better one. Her words from The Competition came back to me. At least the Titan’s care a little that we exist, even if it’s just because we’re useful.

    Did two terrible options even count as a choice?

    Thinking of The Competition reminded me of something else, though. 

    “Somebody was helping the Gold Regiment,” I said. “They visited Nera and got her extra fired up. And when we were fighting, the magic stopped working for a second, just long enough to give her a second shot at me.”

    Victoria pursed her lips. “Percy, I don’t know. There are a lot of groups working for the titans, and not all of them get along. Maybe somebody hates demigods and wanted to see more of them die. Maybe they have a grudge against us personally. But there are so many things it could be, I can’t even guess. Just watch your back.” She patted her shirt above the scar. “Take it from me, who already learned her lesson.”

    We both went quiet. The hoots of the first couple owls echoed from the woods below the base, dampened by the distance. In a way, standing on the suspension bridge so high up felt peaceful, like being secluded from the real world. Above it all. I tried not to think of this as the calm before a storm.

    “So…” I started after a few minutes. “Who do you think I should bring along?”

    “I think you already made your mind up a while ago,” Victoria said.

    “Do you think he’ll go?”

    “If you’re the one asking, he would jump off this bridge. He’s pretty convinced you’re the coolest person on the planet.”

    I stared over the Point Reyes Peninsula, out to the ocean stretching away. Somewhere hundreds of miles across those waves lay Alaska. I would see it soon, or I wouldn’t be seeing anything ever again.

    “I really hope this goes well,” I said.

    Victoria patted my shoulder. “We always do, Percy. We always do.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

When I Say Marco, You Say Meal

It was a small crowd that turned up to see us off. Daedalus was there, which was probably the first time he'd stepped outside since starting what I'd taken to calling the Super Secret Project (SSP, for short). Luke was there, and Kelli had crawled out from whatever rock she'd been hiding under the last couple weeks. The two of them were with Prometheus, talking in hushed tones. When she saw me pass, Kelli shot a trademark wink.

Bianca and I approached Daedalus, backpacks slung over our shoulders with the essentials— toothbrushes, spare clothes, and baggies of money. The side pockets had packages of ambrosia and each of us carried a steel bottle of Nectar. In addition, we each had some personal effects. For Bianca, that was her bow and a quiver of arrows, both attached to her bag. For me, it was a set of magic tableware I hadn't quite figured out how to get working and, for some reason, a piece of bark.

I couldn't really explain what convinced me to bring the Kallikatzaroi's gift with me. I'd felt bad leaving it discarded next to my bed where someone might throw it out, so I'd stuffed it in before thinking too hard.

"Good morning," Daedalus greeted us. "Did you two sleep well?"

"Surprisingly," I said. "Where's Mrs. O'Leary?"

She usually stayed in the woods hunting, but I'd been hoping she'd show up, especially since I might never make it back.

"She's out of town," Daedalus said. "But, while we're on the topic, catch."

He fished out an identical whistle to the one I broke in Antietam, down to the chilly sensation catching it.

"And, while I'm giving gifts…"

This time it was two identical metal orbs that came from his seemingly bottomless pockets. Daedalus gave one to me and the other to Bianca, setting them gently in our hands.

"Take extra care with those," he warned. "I don't mean to alarm you, but if you ever find yourself in an awful situation, slam it against the ground as if you were cracking an egg. Then throw it, and make sure you're as far as you can be when five seconds are up."

Bianca, who had begun casually playing catch with hers, paled and snagged it out of the air, very placing it carefully into a side pouch.

Daedalus looked around, frowning. "I made three so that each of you would have one, but you seem to be missing your third. Did you decide against bringing someone else?"

Bianca and I shared a look.

"He's coming," I said.

"Guys! Guys wait for me! You aren't leaving yet, are you?"

Across the courtyard, struggling to pull an overstuffed jumbo suitcase, was Emmitt.

When he'd finally inched his way over he bent down, breathing hard. "Glad… I made it… in time."

"We told you to pack lighter," I said.

"I know," he panted. "But I just couldn't leave anything behind. You know Lucas would forget to water my plants, and what if we need to swim? Or cook?"

He patted the side of his suitcase, and one of the zippers burst. A pile of pans and books spilled out with titles like So You're Taking on a Feat and 101 Ways to Escape Monsters Without Fighting. Emmitt yelped and hurried to shovel the mess back in.

Daedalus stared on, bemused. "Well, I suppose everyone has their own approaches."

"Hey," I said to him, "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

The alone at the end went unsaid, but he still got the message.

"Bianca," Daedalus said, taking out the third orb, "why don't you take this and explain what it does, and why it might be a good idea not to cram it into that bag."

"Gotcha," Bianca said, grabbing Emmitt's arm and leading him away. "Let's go have a chat about bombs."

As soon as they were gone, I dove into the story about Nera and the cloaked man, covering every weird thing that'd happened in the last week.

When I'd finished, Daedalus stroked his goatee. "Sounds positively sinister."

"I know you're busy," I said, "but I thought maybe you could, I don't know, look into it a little? I'd do it myself, but I'm a little busy."

"I can't make any promises, Percy." Daedalus whipped out a notepad and began scribbling down everything I'd told him. "I'll keep it in mind, though. If I come into any free time, I suppose I could see if I can turn anything up."

I relaxed immediately. "Thanks a bunch. Ask Victoria if you need anything. I know she'll help."

Somebody whistled, and I looked up to see Prometheus waving by the gate. Bianca and Emmitt were already next to him, looking my way.

"Seems like my queue."

"It certainly does," said Daedalus.

We stood a second in silence. Eventually, he gave me a stiff pat on the shoulder.

"Good luck, Percy. I really do hope you come back."

I had a feeling that, if I made it back, luck wouldn't have much to do with it. But I gave him a nod. "See you in a bit."

I jogged toward the glittering obsidian wall.

The bear twins that guarded the front gate were more talented than I'd realized. At least one of them had their license.

A souped-up Chevy SUV was waiting for us at the top of the fire road, engine already on.

"Get in," one of the twins called from the passenger-side window— Agrius, considering he had strung together a coherent sentence, two words or not.

The car had been altered to have a higher ceiling, and still the two in the front seats had to hunch and pull their knees up to fit. Considering one of them was driving, I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Prometheus didn't have to duck, just about. "Put your bags in the back," he told us. "Oreius will drive to Sacramento. From there, we have train tickets for Seattle."

Emmitt, Bianca and I piled into the backseat. I had no idea how long a drive it was to Sacramento, but I hoped it wasn't far. The whole interior smelled of soggy fur.

Oreius turned the key in the ignition and looked to his brother. "Which way?"

All of us stared at him, even Prometheus. "The only way, dimwit," said Agrius, pointing downhill. "Or do you feel like driving off the side?"

I hoped he didn't. After a short shoulder on either side, the ground sunk away steeply, rocks and scraggly trees dotting the terrain to the tree line. Losing the road would be a one-way trip.

Oreius hummed a jaunty tune instead of answering, but he did keep the car straight as he pressed on the gas.

"Hey," I said, "quick question here, and I don't mean to say he shouldn't be, but why is Oreius driving? Because… wait that's exactly it, he shouldn't be."

Agrius stretched the paper map in his hands, struggling to read it with his arms jammed to his sides. "Any of you kids ever driven?"

We shook our heads.

"There you have it. My brother's too stupid to follow a map to his own house, let alone a whole new city. Which leaves us with— RIGHT!"

The last bit was screamed at Oreius, who had gotten distracted watching a vulture and begun to veer. Agrius reached across and yanked the steering wheel. The tires shrieked and stray pebbles took a long tumble off the road as our car jerked back on path and straightened out.

By the time it ended I was plastered against my seat, Emmitt's legs over mine and Bianca's arm braced across my neck.

"Close one, huh?" Agrius chuckled.

"Indeed," Prometheus agreed. "That would've been quite the delay."

I didn't know about that. If anything, it seemed like a shortcut… straight to the Underworld.

On my right, Emmitt looked over with wide eyes. "Are we going to die?" he whispered.

"Nah," I said. "It'll be fine. I think."

"Ooh, birdie!"

"Oreius no!"

Somehow, we made it off the mountain in one piece. After a near miss in a crosswalk with a family of four, we merged onto the 101 heading north.

Holding my breath the whole way down must've tired me out, because it wasn't long before the steady speed of freeway driving lulled me to sleep.

I was right in the middle of a very pleasant dream filled with blue dolphins and birthday cake when I was jarred awake by a loud BUMP! and the whole car shaking.

When I opened my eyes, we were off the road in a fruit orchard, only our back wheels still on the paved shoulder.

"Welcome back to the land of the awake," Bianca said tightly, "where our driver could rather crash than drive over a plastic bag."

Oreius yowled, trying to pull his snout free from the steering wheel where it had gotten jammed. Agrius was already out of the car, Prometheus standing next to him. We pulled ourselves from the backseat and joined them.

I could see it behind us, blowing around in the wind of passing cars— a plastic bag, like you'd get from Target or Walmart or any other chain store. None of the other cars seemed inclined to swerve away from it, except ours.

"No damage to the axel," Agrius growled, kneeling to study the underside of the car. "Should drive fine. Provided we can get it back on the road."

"Well," Prometheus said, a slight edge to his voice, "you'd best get pushing then, oughtn't you?"

Agrius caught it too. "Right away, sir!" He lumbered around to the other side of the car. "Oreius, if you don't get your idiotic tail out here in the next three seconds Kronos help me…"

"Where are we now?" I asked.

It was an orchard of some kind. A wire fence ran a couple of feet away from us, so old it wouldn't keep out a fly. On the opposite side, rows of trees went as far as the eye could see, which wasn't that far at all. Thick fog coated the ground and chilled my face.

"A bit west of Davis," Prometheus said. "About thirty minutes out from Sacramento Valley Station. In a walnut grove, to answer more specifically."

Bianca scowled. "I don't even like walnuts."

At least we didn't have far left. Eager to be back in a warm car, I joined Agrius and his newly-emerged brother in pushing ours back on the road. Emmitt joined me a moment later, but even with the two of us I felt like wheels on a submarine— only there for show.

All of a sudden, Emmitt quit pushing and turned around. "Did you hear that?"

I grunted. "Yep. Sounded like the wheels scraping back on the road. So if we just push a little more…"

"No, not that." Emmitt was staring off into the orchard. "The voices."

I was a little busy, but I listened. More than that, I heard them. Three voices, one male two female, like a mom, dad, and their daughter, drifting out of the fog.

"Please!" came the little girl's voice. "Help, anybody! We're stuck!"

"I'll give you money," the man's voice pleaded. "I'm rich. You want gold? Stocks? Just save our kid."

The mother's voice sounded like it was crying. "Not my only baby!"

Emmitt stepped forward. "They're in trouble. We have to do something."

The voices were getting louder. By now, all of us had noticed.

"Are you crazy?" Bianca asked. One hand was gripping her bow, the other searching for the quiver clipped to her bag. "You want to go toward that?"

I found myself agreeing. "Emmitt, let's think about this. We're in a hurry, aren't we? And besides, I'm sure somebody else will stop for them."

"Please," the mother's voice was repeating. "Please, please, please, please…"

"Somebody, anybody," babbled the little girl. "I need a hero to save me!"

Emmitt's resolve snapped. "By then it could be too late," he said. "I'll be back in a minute."

And he sprinted away, hopping the collapsed fence before being swallowed by the fog.

"Stupid," Bianca cursed, so worked up she managed to do it in Ancient Greek.

I stepped away from the car, letting Agrius take over my spot.

"Something's up," I said. "The little girl said we're stuck, but the parents are talking like it's only her."

Agrius sniffed the air. "There's no mortals out there. Well, not before your friend ran off, anyway."

"If whatever's out there isn't mortal," I said, "then what is it?"

Agrius frowned. "Hard to say. Smells like venison, mixed with something exotic."

Bianca and I made eye contact. I drew Aelia, finger on the eraser.

"We're going after him, aren't we?" Bianca asked resignedly.

"I am," I told her. "You stay here. Somebody has to watch Prometheus."

She didn't argue. I'd love to say it was because she respected me that much, but I think it had more to do with how little she wanted to plunge into that fog.

I took a deep breath and sprinted after Emmitt.

If you've ever played a game of Marco Polo, that's a little what searching for Emmitt was like, except a thousand times creepier with a side of possible death.

"Emmitt!" I called over and over again. "Where are you man?"

He couldn't seem to hear me, but I could still make out his voice.

"I'm on the way!" he was yelling. "Hang in there everybody!"

And then there were the family's voices, which seemed to be coming from every angle.

"Oh goody, a hero," said the little girl. "Those are my favorite!"

The deeper I got the thicker the fog became, until what had started as just annoying became a suffocating coat of cold. I could barely see my hands. It had gotten to the point I could've passed Emmitt a few feet to the left and never have known it.

All of a sudden an idea came to me. The fog was a problem. It was also water, just in a different form. I'd never tried before, but it didn't hurt to see if I could control it.

I raised my arms and shoved, focusing on translating the motion into the mist. I felt something, but just as soon my grip slipped. It was like pushing on curtains; the second my hands were gone, it would fall back to its original shape.

Sometimes, I wonder if The Fates use my life as a comedy routine. Like all of them are sitting around on their rocking chairs or La-Z-Boy recliners or whatever it is they sit on these days, going, "You know what would be a riot? If he walks straight into his friend the instant he stops paying attention!"

My forehead thumped the front of Emmitt's skull, and I winced from my second unintentional headbutt in two days.

"Percy?" Emmitt was rubbing his face. "I— I can't find them. I feel like I'm walking in circles."

"You are," I said. "Or I am. No other way we could've walked straight into each other."

"Can you clear the fog?"

"I tried. It just comes back after a minute, exactly like it was before."

Emmitt looked determined. "That's good enough. I think I got pretty close, all I need is a second where I can see."

I decided to trust him. Squinting, I took a deep breath and swept my arms like an umpire calling a runner safe. The effects were immediate. It was as if someone had started a helicopter right where we were standing, minus the noise. Fog blasted away from us until we were in our own little clear pocket, thirty feet in diameter.

One more thing with the fates: the real punchline always comes later. And this time, they'd changed genres— from comedy, to horror.

Because perched in the walnut branches directly above us, was the most horrifying creature I had ever laid eyes on.

From the hooves to the neck it had the body of a bull elk, if instead of eating grass that elk spent all day swimming in piles of meat. Blood stains, tufts of fabric, and bits of old meals were plastered in its fur. Its neck rippled with powerful muscles. Eyes, red and maliciously intelligent, peered out of a lion's head with auburn-colored fur. Its jaw stretched open unnaturally wide, showing off bladed ridges where teeth should've been.

"Caught you!" squealed the whole family's voices at once, burbling from the back of the creature's throat.

"Leukrokotta!" Emmitt yelled.

"Duck!" I said, tackling him as the creature pounced.

Its powerful jaws snapped the air with the noise of a pile driver. I rolled off of Emmitt and swung my sword, not feeling all that confident. The thing was fast, and already the fog was drifting back in, killing visibility.

Then I had an epiphany. The fog.

The Leukrokotta lunged and I rolled out of the way, swinging my sword to keep it back. I turned my senses toward the water molecules around us, taking control of them for a third time that day.

Earlier I compared corralling the mist to pushing curtains. Now I learned something new. Like curtains, it's a lot easier to hold in shape when you wrapped it around something. Like, say, a head.

Instead of blinding us, the fog condensed into a ball starting at the Leukrokotta's neck and engulfing its head. The beast thrashed, bucking its hindlegs and biting. It was useless. Without being able to see us, it had as much of a chance of landing a hit as taking off in flight.

"No fair!" shrieked the little girl's voice.

I looked at Emmitt and jerked my head toward the road. "Run! I can't hold this thing long."

He didn't need telling twice. He put his head down and shot off, showing maybe all those pre-Competition runs had paid off. I followed much more slowly, backing up to keep my eyes on the monster.

It had begun cycling through voices. A teenager screaming about a lost phone. A toddler wailing for his missing toy. Playing children, frazzled businesswomen, stranded truck drivers… there was no end to them. The only similarity was that all of them were in trouble, and they all needed your help.

When I'd made it thirty feet I broke and ran. My grip was slipping, and I wasn't interested in waiting around for it to break free on its own. I could hear the motors from the freeway. The road couldn't have been more than a hundred feet away.

Behind me, the Leukrokotta realized it was free. "Let's go!" it shouted in a gruff male voice, followed by childish giggling as it took off in pursuit.

I drew level with Emmitt. "It's coming!"

"I'm not looking back!" he shouted.

"Then run!"

The monster was springing off tree trunks to make up ground. Every time it kicked off, the bark shattered. I pictured that sort of force applied to my skull and found an extra burst of speed.

We broke from the trees and saw the car was back on the road. If we got out of this, I swore to give Agrius and Oreius the longest, most premium flea baths known to man.

Emmitt lunged into the open car door. I could see the relief on his face, but when he turned, it morphed into fear.

"Percy, look out!"

I spun to find a deer-lion bullet firing toward me, the tree it had last used left partially uprooted. I wasn't going to make it.

With Anthea I might've been able to pierce the monster before it got to me, but Anfisa didn't have the reach and there was no time to switch. I thought I was done for.

Then an arrow pierced its right eye, and the Leukrokotta tumbled with a chillingly human yowl.

I leaped into the car, past Bianca with her bow raised.

"Amazing shot," I gasped.

"Drive!" she commanded Oreius.

The Leukrokotta gave a final desperate lunge. But with one eye gone, its aim was off. As Oreius slammed on the gas the monster fired behind us, tumbling over the median. The little girl's voice shouted, "Oh come on!" as a horn blared. A semi-truck smashed into it, carrying the monster West while we accelerated in the opposite direction.

When the three of us had collapsed in the backseat panting and coming to terms with the fact we were still alive, Prometheus leaned around his headrest.

"Buckle up, kids," he said. "Riding without a seatbelt is dangerous."

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Not All That Glitters Doesn't Explode

Maybe it was the lack of human-voiced monsters trying to gnaw my neck off, but the rest of the trip felt peaceful, even with Oreius at the wheel.

We didn't talk much. Bianca seemed like she might kill Emmitt if he opened his mouth, and one harsh word from her seemed like it would convince him to do it himself. I wanted to say it wasn't his fault so he'd quit looking so down, but at the end of the day, it was. I decided to leave it for a while, just so there wouldn't be a next time.

At least it wasn't long. Like Prometheus promised, we arrived in under thirty minutes of driving, pulling to a stop before a brick building coated with front-facing rectangular windows.

When we'd unloaded our bags on the sidewalk, Agrius leaned on the car door.

"Anything else?" he grunted.

"You're dismissed," Prometheus said. "Solid work, and do try to make it back."

Agrius nodded. After pulling open the door, he bobbed his snout at us. "Good luck."

He climbed in and the car sped off, clipping the curb on its way out of the parking lot. We were on our own now. In a way, this was where things really started.

"Well," Prometheus said, "let's head inside, shall we?"

I wasn't sure what to expect from the train station. Calling my life sheltered was like calling Aurora a little drowsy. Before today, I hadn't ridden in a car for seven years. The only memories I had of trains were New York subway rides nearly a decade ago.

Sacramento Valley Station was nothing like those. It was nicer. Maybe not as impressive as something like Grand Central, but the waiting room was clean and uncrowded, with shiny marble floors and a sweet mural of some historical event painted across the back wall.

When we'd claimed our tickets from the bored-looking woman at the window, Prometheus stopped to admire the view.

"John really was such a talent," he said wistfully.

"Who?" I asked.

"The painter of course." Prometheus pointed to the mural. "Few could sculpt or direct a brush like him. A son of Apollo, in fact. Fantastic artist. If only he paid more attention to the world outside his art, he might've noticed the hellhound creeping up behind him."

Bianca hadn't waited with us. She strode ahead, and had now plopped down on a wooden waiting bench, crossing her arms.

"How in the world do you know that?" she asked.

Prometheus just shrugged. "Oh, you meet people while laying low. Zeus may've allowed Hercules to free me, but don't mistake where that affection was directed. I was an extra feat for a favorite son, never an invited guest on Olympus."

"Is that why you chose the titans?" I asked. "You sided with the gods last time. Is it about revenge?"

Prometheus laughed and slipped around me, taking a seat beside Bianca. "That is merely a bonus," he said. "I don't care much for small things like revenge. I chose the titans because they are going to win. It's simple positioning, nothing more."

"Uh, guys?"

Emmitt waved to get our attention, stood next to a tall sign that read Carry on Requirements next to an illustration of a suitcase. What had Emmitt worrying was the text across the bottom. Maximum Weight: 50 pounds.

He was glancing back and forth from the sign to his bag, as if trying to convince himself the bulging seams somehow weren't triple the limit.

"We could always throw half of it out," Bianca suggested innocently.

Emmitt's eyes widened, and he wrapped himself around his stuff like a baby-faced spider defending its eggs.

I sighed. "I'll help him check it. Be right back."

The woman at the ticket window directed us to another window on the opposite side of the room, one with scales and a harried-looking guy in the same blue staff uniform.

Unfortunately for us, there was a line. A family of one, two, three, four… eight? It was tricky to count them all. They were all boys, dressed in hillbilly uniforms of overalls and suspenders. The dad wore a wide-brimmed straw hat that made his sideburns look like ginger helmet straps. The whole family's coppery hair was overdue about seven haircuts. While the father ranted at the rail worker with wild gestures his many sons fired around him, roughhousing and spitting and generally kicking up a mess.

"I'm sorry sir," the worker, whose name tag labeled him Steve, was telling the guy. "We just can't take it. Pets need to stay in a carry-on, and they can't be over thirty pounds."

The man grunted, trying to shove a massive covered cage through the teller's window. "And I'm telling you, this ain't no pet I got here. It's my uncle Leroy! You telling me to leave my own uncle behind? Huh?"

"That's even worse!" Steve said desperately. "Don't make me take a person! Tickets aren't even sold out. Buy one for him!"

One of the kids stopped playing to spit on the glass window. "Stupid dumbface," he said to the teller, hopping side to side like a monkey.

The dad shoved him roughly out of the way. "Now, junior, that's no way to behave. You got ta' be polite like your daddy. Watch n' pay attention now." He jammed his nose against the window. "You're gonna take this package while I'm still asking, ya hear, or I will crush your bones into pudding and slurp it down for New Year's Eve."

The poor worker had gotten progressively paler, until he was whiter than the marble floor. I was just wondering if I'd need to step in when it happened without me.

"Sir, there's a line forming. Just buy a ticket. Please."

"What?" The hillbilly flipped around. "Look folks, screw off—"

He stopped halfway, pulling his cage to the opposite side of him. His kids stopped wrestling to watch.

"C'mon boys. We're leaving." Even as he backed away, the guy wouldn't turn his back on us. Before he left, he shot the worker one more glare. "This ain't done. We'll be back."

"Please do not be," Steve said immediately. Then he turned to us. "Really sorry about that. I swear customer service gets harder every year."

He seemed glad to see them go, and I was too. Not only had they been holding us up, but looking at them was slightly irritating, like I was forcing myself to go cross-eyed.

"You get a lot of people like that?" I asked.

Steve wiped his palms on the sides of his uniform. "Usually? Nah. But there was this gloomy kid hanging around recently. When he'd walk by, I felt all cold, even with the heat on. Freaky stuff. But you're here to check a bag. Where to?"

"Seattle," Emmitt and I said together.

The guy blinked. "Funny, everybody's headed there these days. That's where that family's going. I think the creepy kid, too. Guess you're train-mates."

"Amazing," I said.

Steve looked like he would've patted my shoulder without the window in his way. "Tell you what, I'll give you twenty percent off the bag. You deserve it."

I took him up on the offer.

Train seats were comfier than car seats. Smelled better, too. If I had a complaint, it was that they weren't made with titans in mind. Our cabin was two cushioned benches opposite each other, and Prometheus' oversized knees took up the whole aisle.

"Don't mind me," he told us, smiling benevolently. "Settle in."

We would've loved to, but it was a little hard squashed together with our legs at awkward angles.

"How long will we be on here again?" I asked.

"Oh not long at all," Prometheus said. "The leaps mortals have made in transportation over the last hundred years are simply magnificent. We'll be all the way to Seattle by tomorrow morning."

Bianca looked disappointed. "Couldn't we have taken a plane?"

"No!" Emmitt and I shouted at the same time.

"Why not?" Bianca asked. "I keep hearing about them. I wanted to try taking one."

"You wouldn't get very far flying with this company," Prometheus said. "Trespassing on That God's realm would make for a very short flight. He doesn't take kindly to infringements on what he feels is his. Not very hospitable of him, but we all have our faults, and he simply happens to have very many of them. You don't want to see the last plane struck with his Master Bolt. Though that won't be an issue, considering it was reduced to smoke."

Bianca gulped. "Trains it is then."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that flying wasn't smart. But even past that, Prometheus seemed like the type to have perfect judgment on sidestepping danger. Which brought up something I'd been wondering since earlier.

"Prometheus," I said. "You had to know that was a trap with the Leukrokotta. I mean, if the rest of us were suspicious, I figure you knew for sure."

At the reminder, Emmitt lost the good mood he'd just started getting back, hanging his head and rubbing his hoodie's drawstrings together. If anything, it only made Prometheus cheerier.

"An astute question," he said. "I was aware of the trap."

Emmitt pulled up his hood and slowly dragged the drawstrings, disappearing behind a spiral of cloth.

"So?" I prompted.

Prometheus knit his fingers. "See things from my point of view. If all goes well, I will be in great danger in three days' time. Threats fiercer than any Leukrokotta will come from all angles, and I will be helpless to aid you. When such a time comes, I must know that my shield is made of the sternest stuff."

"In other words, if we can't even get you to Alaska ourselves, there's no point in any of this," I translated.

"Should I be forced to save myself, that would be a failing grade," Prometheus confirmed. "And— ah, I imagine I don't need to clarify what that means."

From somewhere deep in the folds of his hoodie, Emmitt whimpered. But it was Bianca that summed up my thoughts.

"Great," she said. "Babysitting. My favorite."

Prometheus smiled benignly. "I'll be in your care."

I was lucky to have snagged a window seat, but after an hour and a half I was realizing there was only so long that blurring countryside could distract from cramping legs. With Bianca napping and Emmitt still hiding in his hoodie, the only entertainment I had were the monsters.

There were tons of them, more than I'd seen anywhere except Mount Tam. A few were like animals; a hellhound hunting in the woods, or the tail of a serpent slipping into a rice paddy. But the others were stranger. Giants, Dracaena, and other humanoids I hardly recognized, emerging from orchards or side streets or from over the lips of hills holding up fists with their index finger raised, eyes fixed on our train.

"On us," I muttered as we chugged past yet another herd of snake women with inclined fists.

"It's a gesture of respect." Emmitt was starting to remind me of a snail the way he was hiding in his hoodie, but as he leaned forward I could see his eyes looking out over my shoulder. "The Ancient Greeks would do it when whenever they made sacrifices. The fist symbolizes the Earth, and the finger is to show they recognize the gods, pointing up to Olympus."

"Not only to Olympus." Prometheus hummed, penciling a letter into his New York Times crossword puzzle. A twenty-high stack of finished ones already lay piled at his hip. "The gods do love when mortals stroke their egos. So much, even, that they are not above appropriating old gestures to fit their personal taste." He held up his free hand, mimicking the gesture. "Pointing to the peak of Mt. Orthrys, a proclamation of loyalty not to be taken lightly."

I gulped. California had more monsters than anywhere else, what with the Titan's base here and all. I knew that, and yet just the monsters we'd seen since Sacramento could qualify as a small army. If there were even a fraction as many across the rest of the country… I knew they were on our side, but being surrounded is a feeling no demigod enjoys. It's as ingrained as our reflexes, or Ancient Greek.

"I'm going for a walk."

I stood up, squeezing through the others. Prometheus filled precipitousness into 13 across. "Enjoy yourself," he said.

I slid back the plastic door and entered the hall.

The Coast Starlight train ran from LA all the way to Seattle, and it was designed like it. There were nine cars in total, including two with rooms like ours and three for the poor suckers stuck in business class. The rest were made up of dining cars and lounges, some with tables, others just rows of seats positioned for views out the sweeping oval windows. To move between cars you went through two sliding doors. It was walled up and everything, but you could still tell you were almost outside, noise from the wind and rattling from the wheels underneath you.

The dining cars were next to empty, and most of business class had two seats to themselves. A kid in all black was asleep like that, his feet dangling into the alley and a hood pulled completely over his face. If Emmitt were with me, I wondered if they would've hit it off.

I'd say the low crowds were why the redneck family stuck out so bad, but they probably would've anywhere but at the National Corn Growers Convention.

"You call this meat!" The father was shouting in the last dining car, waving around his plate. Steve must've overpowered him, because his cage was sitting precariously on the leather booth seat beside him, the only thing his little hellions were scared to grab. In thirty seconds since opening the door I'd seen them steal two purses and yank a woman's shoe off her foot.

The door at the far end of the car was marked with a big sign declaring Luggage Car: Staff Only, so I turned and left the way I came in. I didn't have the energy to deal with that family again. That I thought I'd caught the cage snoring didn't hurt in making my mind up.

I did a couple laps. By the third the scenery out the window was starting to get lumpy, hills and real vegetation signaling the Central Valley was coming to its end. When I passed our cabin for the third time, I poked my head in.

Bianca was still asleep, Prometheus working away at his crossword. A new one, considering the completed pile was twice as tall as when I'd left.

"Emmitt," I said quietly. "Want to stretch your legs?"

The hoodie pointed my direction and bobbed.

"You might want to pull the hood down," I told him once he'd joined me in the hall. "Just to see where you're going."

"S'okay. Look."

He leaned forward, and I saw the hood wasn't actually drawn completely closed. There was a tiny gap where his eyes peeked through.

"Uh, alright. That works I guess."

We strolled through two cars before I broke the silence.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Ah." Emmitt's head drooped. "Makes sense. I'll just jump out now and save you the time."

He took a step toward one of the wide windows and I caught his wrist.

"Dude, chill out! I'm not mad."

Emmitt blinked. "You don't want to kill me?"

"Of course not! None of us do."

"Bianca does."

I thought back to Bianca's face after Emmitt ran off. "Err, that's not important right now. I'm telling you I'm not upset, I just wanna talk."

We stepped to the side to let an elderly couple pass by. When we'd moved back into the aisle, Emmitt's hoodie had loosened enough to show his nose. "Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," I said. "Now c'mon. You've gotta see the lounge cars toward the back. The view is crazy."

We snagged an open table three cars from the back, situated for great views of the couple thousand pine trees along the valley we were traversing the edge of. Even the foothill terrain had been left behind. We were in the mountains now, chugging for the Oregon border.

I grabbed a complimentary orange juice for each of us and tipped the server with the extra bucks from Steve's discount.

When I'd set the juice's down and slid one across the table, I took a deep breath. I'd thought a lot about it as I walked– how to cheer Emmitt up. I knew what it felt like to screw up. And, worse, to put people in danger doing it. I needed to make him understand that wasn't important now. What he did next time was.

"You know, the first time I tried to go out adventuring, I messed up pretty bad."

The orange juice had finally lured Emmitt's face out. He sipped the drink, looking curious. "Is that why your arm is, you know…"

"Metal? Nah. That one found me. This was the first time I decided to go looking for monsters, instead of the other way around. I had a little training, a weapon, and way more confidence than I should have."

"What happened?" he asked.

I chuckled, thinking back what felt like a lifetime ago to Flesh Tearer and Steve. I had to say, the Steve from today had way better customer service, just for the fact he never tried to cook me. "Short version? I got my butt kicked by a couple of Laistrygonian Giants. I would've died if they hadn't started fighting each other."

"Really?" Emmitt asked. "You?"

"Me," I confirmed. "Fighting monsters? Nobody's a natural. The longer you do it, the better at it you get. You just have to keep going."

That wasn't… a hundred percent true. For some people, it did come easier. Like Thalia, for example. But you could catch them with training, I believed that for sure, and bringing up grey areas would only give Emmitt a chance to brush off what I was saying. To get him to lift his chin up, it was worth fudging a few details.

"I can't picture it," he admitted, but he was smiling a little as he sipped his drink. "What went wrong?"

"Everything," I said. "I missed I tried to stab a giant bigger than Prometheus and missed, from right in front of him. I think my stubby arms didn't help."

"How old were you then?"

"Oh… about seven."

Emmitt's face immediately fell, and I rushed to fix my mistake. "I was almost eight! And really, eight is basically nine, which is basically—"

Emmitt sniffed. "Thanks, Percy. You're really nice. But even you can't spin things like I don't suck."

I sighed. "I mean it, though. Anybody can get better."

But my words weren't really getting through to him anymore, even as he nodded. I stood up. "Let's forget the views for now. Exercise is a better distraction anyway."

But as we started to head back up the train, the door slid open. Standing in the frame was the kid I'd seen napping, now very much awake.

Seattle seemed like the last place he should be heading, because his porcelain-pale skin was screaming for some Southern California sunbathing. His unzipped hoodie and cargo pants weren't just black, but dirty. Dark stains were visible along the edges. His shoelaces looked like something had chewed on them, and his bangs hadn't been cut for way too long. The money for his ticket would've been better spent on a makeover.

But what really struck me was the feeling. Just like Steve said, he made the room cold. It reminded me of standing in chilly fog. Which, after that morning, was a feeling I very much didn't enjoy.

"Hey." I put my hands on Emmitt's shoulders and steered him 180 degrees. "Let's check out the back of the train. The, uh, rear window is a real attraction."

For the first time, Emmitt's depression came in handy. He was too lethargic to argue. As we left the car, I felt the kid's gaze heavy on my back, as if it were coming from more than one set of eyes.

I led us into the next car back and waited. A minute later, the door slid open behind us. I didn't need to look back to know who it was. Trying to seem casual, I moved us to the next.

That door slid open too, slightly sooner than the last. Chancing a glance over my shoulder, I found the kid not even pretending he wasn't staring. There was only one car left, and even though I wanted nothing to do with it, I decided to take the chance.

If anything, the final car was more chaotic than before. The other passengers had fled, leaving the hillbilly family with full reign.

They all looked up when we entered. The kids even stopped scratching graffiti into the windows with their sharp fingernails.

"Wh– what do you want?" the father demanded. At least I assumed that was who said it. I couldn't actually see more than his eyes through a pile of looted food from departed passengers' tables.

"To look at the view," I said, putting distance between the door and our backs. "We want to see the rear window."

"There is no rear window, stupid," said one of the kids.

"I know," I said.

His bushy red eyebrows folded together like a Twizzler. "Huh?"

"I'm not explaining it," I snapped. "All you need to know is there's this kid–"

The door slid open. And there went the heat from the room.

One step, two steps, and he shut the door behind him. When he turned to face us, I got my best look at his pale face yet. It seemed familiar.

"Is this the dining car?" His voice was rough like he wasn't used to using it.

"One of them," I told him. "You already walked through the other."

"So did you," he pointed out. "Almost like you were running from something. From me."

Emmitt, oblivious to the tension, said, "We were coming to see the rear window."

"There is no rear window!" snapped the hillbilly kid from before. "Idiots! Stupid idiots!"

Emmitt looked around. "Oh, you're right."

"Forget the rear window," Emo Kid said. "Whatever that is. Why were you running?"

One of the hillbillies said, "We weren't running!"

"Not you! Them!"

"Us?" Emmitt pointed at his chest. "We weren't running."

"Yes, you were!"

Emmitt looked at me. "Were we running?"

"We were running," I confirmed.

"Oh." He turned to Emo Kid. "We were running."

"I know that! Why do you think I asked you why."

Behind us, I noticed the hillbilly dad starting to gather his kids. Every time somebody raised their voice he cringed, eyes drifting to the cage.

"Would you believe me if I said because you give off bad vibes?" I asked.

Emo Kid grinned. It wasn't a nice one. "Sure I would. I'm here to kill you after all." His hand dipped into the shadow between his unzipped jacket and his hip. When he drew it out, he held a three-foot sword that seemed forged from shadows itself. As he aimed the sword at me, his grin faded to a frown. "That line would've been a lot cooler if you guys didn't interrupt."

"Sorry," said the hillbilly kid from before. His dad slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Sorry," said Emmitt.

"Don't apologize," I told him. "He's trying to kill us."

Emmitt blinked. "Right! I'm not sorry. Take that."

"Oh just shut up!"

Emo Kid lunged, but I grabbed Emmitt's collar and pulled him out of the way. Anfisa formed in my hand. I parried the follow-up, and the clang from our swords made the hillbillies yelp.

"Just like that?" I asked. "You're going to show up, say you're here to kill us, and get straight to it? No introduction? No why?"

"I don't have to explain anything to you. Once you're dead, everything will go back to normal!"

As if to prove it, he tried to hack through my neck. I parried that, too.

"Fine," I said. "Let's do this your way."

I let a couple more strikes slide off my sword before stepping back. Our blades were nearly the same length, so my arms gave me the reach advantage. Every time he tried to get close I'd force him to block a slash and knock him back.

He gnashed his teeth. "Just die, brainwasher!"

Brainwasher? I hadn't heard that one before. But I had a feel for him now. The next time he rushed in I hit him with a feint. He jumped to parry another slash, only for me to stop halfway. I grabbed his wrist and forced his arm out of the way. Then I smashed his chest with my hilt.

He collapsed so fast I kind of felt bad, attempted murderer or not. His chest had less give than a skeleton's.

"You're not bad," I told him as he lay wheezing. "You've got talent. But you don't have enough training."

He coughed to get his breath back. "Of course… I have less… than you. Not everybody's… a thousand years old."

I gave him a weird look. "A thousand years old? You mean me? I think you've got the wrong person. I don't brainwash anybody, either. Sometimes I wish I could."

He only wheezed. "Can't… fool me. I know."

Before I could tell him he did not know because he was talking nonsense, the sound of squealing metal filled the room. Cloth tore. The whole hillbilly brigade began… howling?

They all sprinted into different corners of the room, pressing themselves to the walls. Rising from the cage, like a vengeful ginger mop, was a figure.

I thought it was an orangutan at first, broken out of some zoo. Then it opened its eyes, revealing distinctly human pupils. Its lips curled back. Incisors bigger than my thumb glistened as it began to hoot.

"Paaaaaaarty's here! And he goes by the name LEROY!"

Leroy's voice was so loud it was like being trapped in the barrel of a firing canon, noise reverberating off the walls and beating my eardrums. Everyone pressed their hands to their ears, and it still hurt.

Only after his outburst did Leroy seem to notice where he was.

"Hold on a darn second! This ain't that Space Needle! Junior! Explain."

"U-U-Uncle Leroy," stammered the hillbilly dad– or Junior, I guess. "I didn't mean to wake ya. Honest. I know what you said–"

"And why're you still looking like that?" Leroy interrupted.

"It's a disguise, Leroy! We're in public."

Leroy glared. "How are we supposed to raise our name if you go everywhere hiding? Ditch it!"

"I– Fine. Alright." A reluctant snap of his fingers later, the hillbilly dad was no longer a hillbilly. Bushy red hair sprouted over his arms and the rest of his body. His mouth expanded into a muzzle. In each corner of the room, his sons underwent identical transformations– into two-legged, burly apes. "I really tried not to wake ya though. It's just these demigods showed up out of nowhere and started a fight."

"With you?" growled Leroy.

Junior shook his hairy head. "With each other!"

"Why'd you interrupt, monster!" Mr. Dark And Gloomy complained from the floor. "I almost had him!"

"Excuse me?" I said.

But he wasn't listening. His hand ducked under his jacket, just like it had when he drew his sword.

"Percy, look out!" warned Emmitt.

The black sword disappeared, sinking into the shadow of the table it'd fallen under, only to reappear in the pale hand it had started in. I began to move away before cage clattered to the floor behind me.

Leroy was an orange blur as he jumped to the wall and kicked off, banking to land behind my opponent. Leathery fingers clenched around Emo Kid's wrist and neck, hoisting him into the air with a startled grunt.

"I have this dream," Leroy said. "Kids like you won't understand. You don't know what it's like to grow old ignored and forgotten. I do, but I'm not staying like that. I'm going to climb higher than anybody ever has before. I'm gonna stand on top of the world, and everyone'll look up and worship me. I'll be like a new god born, and when that happens everybody is going to know the real satyrs."

Maybe there were more important things to worry about, but I had to ask, "Satyrs? You mean the guys with goat legs?"

Leroy's grip tightened, making his captive glare at me harder than when we were fighting to the death.

"Who gives a hoot about those prissy vegetarians! Why is it they're the only Satyrs anybody ever cares about? I can't stand it! When I'm standing on top of the Space Needle, there'll only be one type of satyr on people's minds: the Satyride Satyrs! Applause."

On queue, his family members clapped for his declaration.

"Satyride Satyrs…" Emmitt mumbled. "Satyride Satyrs, where have I heard that– ah! You guys lived on the southern islands. Merchants hated you because were always raiding boats."

"'Course we did!" Leroy boomed. "If you saw the jewels they sailed around with, you would too. There's nothing more important in this world than something shiny."

"What about people recognizing you?" I asked.

Leroy paused. He opened his mouth, then closed it. I could tell he was doing his best to think. I wouldn't put any drachmas on his best being all that great though.

Finally, his epiphany came. "Shiny things!" he decided, "because if I get enough of 'em, I won't even need to bother climbing at all! I'll just sit around, admiring the shine."

Emo Kid burbled something like he wanted to talk, but the grip was too tight. He couldn't exactly lose color in his face seeing as he didn't start with any, but I figured his oxygen levels were currently somewhere between none and too little.

"Why don't you set the kid down," I said, "and then we can have a long talk where you tell me everything about Saturday Satyrs–"

The kids howled in the corners. "Satyride!" barked Leroy.

"See? Just means I've got more to learn. Clue me in. I know you don't get your fur that silky without some killer conditioner."

Leroy popped his puffy lips thoughtfully. "You caught me at a bad time, son. Any other day of the year and I'd jump at the chance. But I'm on my way to do the greatest feat anybody ever gosh darn completed, and if I don't rest up with enough shut-eye I'm liable to slip and splatter. Why do you want him freed, anyhow? I was under the impression you was trying to kill one another."
"We were fighting," I admitted. "But I can't exactly ask him why he attacked me if he's dead. Or choking, for that matter, so if you could just set him down…"

"I think what we've got on our hands is an impasse," Leroy said. "See, I set him down and you two go back to fighting, I won't be able to sleep. Much simpler to kill him."

I leveled Anfisa at the monkey man. "And if I decide to fight you for that?"

"Oooh, that's an easy one." He rose onto the balls of his feet, fangs glinting. "I'll kill you, too, before I lay a beating on my family for letting you wake me up. All them top athletes pay attention to warmups these days."

I didn't wait around to listen to Junior and the others whimper at the promise. I charged.

It wasn't the safest choice I'd ever made, which with a track record like mine is saying something. I was worried he'd finish off his captive before I got close, and the whole fight would be for nothing.

Instead he freed his hands by chucking Emo Kid roughly against the wall, where he slid onto a table with a thud, his face sinking into a plate of abandoned mashed potatoes.

By the time I slashed at Leroy, the space he'd been was empty. He leaped around, kicking off walls and coming at me from odd angles, grabbing with his meaty hands. First from the right. Then from the left. Even from above, using the ceiling.

Compared to bowling balls, Leroy's fists moved in slow motion. The problem, I realized quickly, was that I couldn't hit back. By the time I realized where he was coming from I only had time to dodge. As soon as I was ready to swing back, he was already out of range, and the whole thing repeated all over again.

At least it wasn't a group fight. Probably because they knew they were next in line, his family wasn't lifting a finger. Emo Kid was still dazed. Rather than attacking my back, he seemed too busy blinking and moving his lips like someone was talking to him.

As I ducked another grab more than capable of crushing my neck, I felt like growling. This location was terrible. With so many surfaces, Leroy would never need to stop moving.

Then he fired off a window, and the pane shattered.

The wind roared in even as I leaned out of the way.

I thought about changing to Anthea, but even an extra few feet wasn't enough to catch the Satyr at the speeds he was moving. As I leaned into another dodge, waving by the door caught my attention.

"Percy!" Emmitt shouted. "We're on a train car!"
"I know, Emmitt! And a little busy here."

"No!" he said. "We're on a train car. Like, the last one."

He had one hand on the door, and I realized what he was trying to tell me. Why sit in the center of the room where I had to watch four sides? Much better to make things cramped.

I sprinted across the car, rolling once to dodge Leroy, and popped up next to Emmitt and the door. Together, we stepped into the gap between cars.

Leroy howled. "Ya can't leave yet. Proper warmups last for thirty minutes!"

"Come get me then," I taunted.

He'd paused on the far side of the train, hanging from the ceiling with a one-handed grip. His wingspan was absurd. His body had to be under five feet tall, but his arms could reach past his toes.

"What's wrong? Scared to come closer?"

Leroy squinted, squeezing his whole leathery face forward. "One thing about climbers you really got to learn. We love planning our routes."

Without warning, he hurled himself forward. He came pinging from wall to wall, changing the angle constantly. I tracked him, muscles tensing.

What I didn't expect was for him to hit the window he'd broken earlier, and for the rest of it to shatter.

Leroy disappeared with a shocked hoot.

"What the–" I couldn't believe it. "Just like that? So much for planning routes."

Emmitt seemed like he might collaps from relief. "Let's just get out of here. Before anything else happens."

He hurried into the next car before I could stop him.

"Hold on! We still need to interrogate–"

The wall to my right collapsed.

It was only thin plastic, not metal like the cars. That didn't mean I expected a shape to bust through it like paper. Before I could process what was happening a hand had me by the neck, holding me from behind.

"What'd I say?" There was no mistaking Leroy's voice, just like there was no mistaking his grip. "Climbers and their routes. Don't forget about 'em!"

I said something real intelligent like 'Umph'.

"Don't think about stabbing behind ya, either," Leroy said, walking me back into the dining car. "I'll squeeze, and you won't even make it halfway. Ooh, but now that I get a closer sniff at you, you smell mighty interesting. Saltwater? Killing you might just be better than climbing that Space Noodle or whatever it is. Zeus might just give me a medal. Junior, you ever seen one of them goat satyrs with a medal?"

"N-N-Not once Uncle L-Leroy. Can't e-even imagine it."

"Right? I'm gettin tingly just imagining."

More than that, he was starting to hold harder. I felt a sense of empathy with Emo Kid. If you ever got your neck stuck in one of those trash compactors that crush cars, I imagined this is what it would feel like, but add in some stench. I had a horrible suspicion this was the hand Leroy used for scratching his unmentionables.

I was beginning to wonder if I should just try and stab him – worst case it just made the process faster – when Leroy grunted.

Emmitt was back, and he'd arrived with a full-on body check.

It also hadn't moved Leroy an inch.

"You need to eat some meat," Leroy said, almost sounding apologetic. "There's no weight on your bones, kid."

Emmitt whimpered. I thought it was because he was scared, but I couldn't really say, seeing as the whole thing was happening behind me

Then, all of a sudden, Leroy dropped me.

"Give me that!" he shouted, lunging for Emmitt. The other Satyride Satyrs sprinted forward too, a huge change from the cowering they'd been up to since Leroy's threat. They were all focused on something in Emmitt's hand, and when I saw what, my chest constricted like I was back to choking.

It looked a whole lot different from the last time I'd seen it, but there was no mistaking one of the metal eggs Daedalus had given us, even with green hairline fractures glittering across it. The thing was shining like an emerald, only getting brighter.

"It was in my pocket!" Emmitt wailed, desperately dodging the furry horde's hands. "I didn't mean to set it off!"

Daedalus's warning played in my ears. Make sure you're as far as you can be when five seconds are up.

"Get rid of it!" I shouted, but I didn't need to bother. Emmitt had already chucked the orb across the car.

The Satyrs sprung after it without hesitation.

"The jewel will be mine!" shouted Leroy.

Junior shoved him aside, using his kids as steppingstones to move faster. "Ours, you mean!"

I sprinted the opposite direction. As fast as I could.

Emmitt and I raced through the door, throwing it shut behind us for whatever extra protection it would offer. I counted down in my head. Three. Two. One.

We tumbled into the next car, falling over ourselves as we ducked and covered.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Rather than covering our heads, we should've covered our ears. The noise was deafening. Around us passengers screamed, only getting louder when metal shrieked and wind rushed into the car. I rolled over and watched the back wall disintegrate, green flames eating through commercial-grade steel before stopping.

And that was only the edge of the explosion. The dining car at the epicenter didn't exist. There was only scattered shrapnel falling from the air, lit with emerald flames. Looming in the background, broad and white against the burning wreckage, was a familiar snowy mountain. If anything, Shasta looked more beautiful than the first time I saw it, years ago, out Daedalus's workshop window.

"That was in my pocket?" Emmitt asked, his fingers trembling.

"Remind me to be extra careful with my bag from now on," I said. There was something bothering me, though. Don't get me wrong, I was glad to be alive and all, but it didn't make sense. "What was that? Why did Leroy let go? He had me."

"Satyride Satyrs like jewels," Emmitt said. "They really like them, I guess. You heard what he said. They must've thought the bomb was a gem."

Put like that, it seemed like a really stupid way to die. Leroy hadn't even gotten to climb the Space Needle. But I guess they weren't really dead. Monsters would always be back, in a year or ten or a thousand. I wondered if the Space Needle would still be there by the time he got back.

We watched the debris land and sink straight through patches of snow. Within minutes, I could spot trees lit with those ominous flames.

"Do you think…" Emmitt was watching the trees, too. "Do you think that kid ended up, you know…"

"Disintegrated?"

Emmitt flinched, but I bumped his shoulder. "Nah, he's fine. I'm sure of it."

Because I'd seen it, from the corner of my eye as we ran for our lives. The table Emo Kid had been on was empty, not even a scrap of fabric left behind. I didn't know how he pulled it off, but I knew he had. He'd disappeared like he was never there.

A ding, and the captain's voice came over the intercom. "Attention, passengers. Please remain calm. I am aware of the emergency, and offer my sincerest apologies for our negligence. We will be making an emergency stop until help arrives– Who are you? You aren't supposed to be in here!"

There was a pause. The worried mutters from the mortals around us got louder.

When the captain's voice came back, he sounded strangely calm. "Understood. Change of plans, folks. We will be continuing on to Seattle. Anything else, sir?"

"Yes." A familiar voice came over the intercom, slick like oil. "Percy, Emmitt… not a good start. This much is no intervention; I am only being a touch impatient. But if I'm forced to do so again…"

Prometheus's threat (because that was what it was) hung in the air, even if the sound of his voice seemed to have calmed the other passengers down. The ones in the back row were going about their business, ignoring the wind forcing their heads forward and the green sparks fizzing right behind them. At least somebody was feeling better.

I sighed. "Let's get back to the cabin. I need another nap."

"A nap sounds nice," Emmitt agreed. "Maybe new clothes, too."

Before we left the car, though, he froze.

"Percy," he said slowly, "what about the luggage car?"

We both turned. A couple hundred feet behind the train and getting further was the luggage car, stranded on the tracks and half-eaten by Greek Fire. What bags were still intact were slowly turning to ash.

"Ah, it'll be okay?" I didn't mean for it to be a question, but that's how it came out. "Maybe your bag survived. I'm sure they'll send someone to collect the ones that are still there."

In losing its front wheels the car had also lost its balance, because as soon as I finished talking it tilted to the side. Flipping over and over, the car picked up speed as it raced down to the base of the valley we were riding along, landing in the river with a SPLASH! audible all the way on the tracks.

"Or maybe not?"

Emmitt sniffled. "My stuff…"

I rubbed his back. Next stop: Seattle. Hopefully, it would prove a little more hospitable than the open road had.

Who was I kidding? Better to brace ourselves. Nothing ever just ends up simple.

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

A Bay Rejects Us

Seattle disappointed me. 

After everything I’d heard I expected the place to be a 24/7 rainstorm, which suited me great seeing as I was basically a human wetsuit. 

Instead the sky was cloudy when we disembarked the Coast Starlight train, but without a drop in sight. No sun, no rain. The worst of both worlds. 

Emmitt and I had filled the others in on the way about the dining car debacle, everything from our mysterious pursuer to the gem-obsessed Satyrs vaporizing themselves. I made sure to focus on Emo Kid’s escape, but the others didn’t seem to think much of it.

“You already beat him once,” Bianca pointed out, shrugging. “If he shows up again, just beat him again.”

The conversation had basically ended there, although I thought she was missing the point. It didn’t take an amazing swordsman to catch you off guard. 

We’d definitely bought ourselves time, though. No matter how he got away, there was no way the kid could chase us so fast. For now, we needed to stay ahead. The first step: getting off this outdoor platform.

“Where to next?” I asked as the throng of commuters rushed around us.

Prometheus smiled. Despite – or maybe because of – his intercom warning, his spirits had been nothing but high the rest of the trip. “Somewhere quite comfortable for you, I’d imagine. The quickest way North is by ferry, and Seattle’s harbor has no lack of those.”

We didn’t even need to take a cab. King Street Station and Colman dock were just a fifteen-minute walk apart.

Despite the weather, I found myself enjoying the day. Barges loaded with colorful shipping containers sat docked to our left, bobbing on an arm of the Puget Sound. On our right, the outskirts of downtown came in the form of four-story buildings and hectic one-way streets. A homeless guy on the corner was trying to convince his labrador to shake hands for spare change from tourists. A group of punks were hanging out on the steps of a hotel right underneath a ‘No Loitering’ sign, punching each other's sides and giggling like dumb teenagers should. 

But none of that was what was putting me in a good mood. Or I guess I should say, all of it was. Just from the atmosphere, you could tell we were in the city. It might not have been humid and the people might’ve said “Dude!” more, but strolling the streets took me back to Manhattan. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

“Nice to be in a city,” Bianca mumbled. 

“You grew up in one too?” I asked

“Hm? Ah, yeah.” She’d changed into cargo pants and a t-shirt, wearing her windbreaker unzipped despite the wind blowing off the water. “D.C. Only for a couple of years, though. I went back to visit last summer, not long before I got grabbed.”

Emmitt stuck his head in between us. “I’m glad you guys are having fun, but can we walk a little faster? Please?”

“Something wrong?” I asked.

He shivered. “It’s just… the trees.” 

He pointed to a spindly tree built into the sidewalk. The metal fenceposts around the trunk were rusted and weather-bitten. I hoped it wasn’t there for shade, because that seemed silly in the Pacific Northwest, and because it had no leaves, only spindly branches.

“They’re screaming,” Emmitt said. “I think someone peed on this one. And that birch on the last block? It was so carved up, there was barely any bark left!”

All I could hear was a cabbie laying on his horn. “Emmitt, you can talk to trees?”

It took him a second to hear me, busy giving the pee tree commiserating looks. When my words sunk in, he blushed.

“It’s not that great,” he said. “Most of the time all I can get are feelings. Like, I can tell when a plant’s happy or upset. If they’re in pain, that’s when they get loud. But only really old ones can actually talk to me.”

Bianca asked, “Trees feel pain?”

Emmitt looked offended. “Of course they do!”

“You may be surprised,” Prometheus said, “at how many things are alive. A plant does not need a dryad to feel the world. That they fail to recognize consciousness different from our own as consciousness at all, is a fault mortals make often. Ah, but would you look at that! We’re here.”

Maybe I was slacking as a son of the Sea God, because Colman Dock showed me just how little I knew about ferries.

I’d pictured something quaint. Maybe a building about the size of Sacramento Valley Station, but with a little boarding area and some cute boats. I mean, when someone says ferry, what do you imagine? A two-story boat with a cockpit and viewing deck, and indoor seating for when it gets windy. This was not that.

My first view of our ride was from the sidewalk– it was that big. Four stories at least, with a ramp for cars to drive up and a cabin wide enough to host a concert. A smokestack churned dark fog into the air. Dozens of antennas and sensors along the roof fed the captain all the statistics he could ever need. About the only thing I got right was the viewing deck– I could see one, set aside right near the prow, wide enough to park a dump truck. 

Inside was just as official. The ones boarding on foot like us were funneled through security lines almost as strict as an airport. I put Aelia in a box just to be safe, and passed through without a beep. Bianca sent the leather case carrying her bow through the x-ray machine like it was a laptop.

When the security officer checking bags saw his screen he jumped, but Prometheus cleared his throat and the guy settled right back down, his eyes unfocused.

“Cool trick,” I said.

“It does have its uses,” Prometheus admitted. “You would not believe the number of Ted Talks I have attended for free.”

“Who’s Ted? And what’s he talking about?”

Prometheus shook his head. “The demigod’s only fault– so uncultured, the lot of you.”

After the others joined us, we all took a bathroom break before we lined up at our gate. Emmitt got some stares. His clothes, along with his toothbrush, money, books, deodorant, and shampoo had gone the way of the luggage car they were stored in– up in smoke. He’d bought a cheap toothbrush on the train and borrowed spare clothes from me, but you could tell the sleeves of his t-shirt were too long. His hair was oily and flat. People gave him a little extra space.

With ten minutes to boarding and nothing else to do, I looked at the people around us. Most of them seemed like tourists, checking their maps and planning for days out on the other end. An old couple with expensive-looking cameras were arguing if the light would be good for landscape shots. A couple of places ahead of us in line an eight-year-old was telling his dad the details of his pokemon save, clicking buttons on a portable Nintendo Switch.

“I have to watch out for thunderbolt,” the kid said. “It’s times four effective. Water types always lose to electric types.”

“I could take an electric type,” I mumbled.

Bianca looked away from the vending machine energy bar she was scarfing down. “What?”

“Nevermind.”

Our seats were almost at the very front, close to where the prow narrowed into a point. We could see onto the outdoor viewing space. It was supposed to be empty until the ferry was cast off, but the Pokemon kid and his dad convinced a worker to let them outside early for the best view. 

The window was good enough for us. I could see downtown from where we were docked, immense office buildings and, north of the cluster, the spear-like Space Needle stabbing the clouds. I leaned back in my seat, listening to the slosh of the waves and the squawk of gulls. We weren’t here to sightsee, but a little bit of relaxation didn’t hurt. 

The boat pulled away from the dock. And things got weird.

I bent over. My stomach swirled into a mess, the breakfast sandwich I ate on the train mixing with the dinner before it and threatening to make a reappearance on the floor. The world was swimming. The chatter from other passengers sounded loud and quiet at the same time. 

“No way.” It felt like Bianca’s voice was coming from miles away, even though she was sitting right next to me. “ You get seasick?”

“Not that!” I gasped. “Something’s happening.”

And then, as quick as the feeling swept over me, I was fine. I sat up. The boat was whirring away from shore. The retired couple were snapping photos of downtown. At the front of the boat, the grade-schooler was still being helped up by his dead, peering down at the water.

“False alarm?” I wondered out loud.

The little kid giggled. “Daddy, Gyarados used whirlpool!”

The ship banked 45 degrees. 

Bianca and I slid from our seats and smashed cheek-first into the window, which proved strong enough to hold our weight, along with the weights of the passengers in front of and behind us. Since it was about the only place I could look, I got a real good view down at the water. Whirlpools and white-capped waves had turned the previously peaceful bay into something like the open ocean during a typhoon. Water thundered against the hull. Suction pulled the boat forward and down. We spiraled around the largest whirlpool like a rubber duck going down the drain.

Then the captain yanked the helm, and the ferry turned sharply right. 

Good news first. We broke out of the whirlpool, bouncing into (mildly) calmer waters. Now the bad. The boat recoiled, going from leaning right to pitching left, hurling passengers like rag dolls in a play set. 

We would’ve fallen clear across the room, but I managed to get Anthea out and stab the spear into the floor, hanging on for dear life. Bianca grabbed my ankle. Nobody else was so lucky. I could hear cars skidding in the hold underneath us. Passengers slid across the floor and landed in a groaning pile against the opposite wall.

“What the hell is going on!” Bianca shouted.

“I don’t know!” I said. “But I’m going to try and stop it! Hang on!”

I tried to calm the water underneath us. 

It was half-ocean, half-freshwater. I should’ve been in my element. But as soon as my senses touched the water, it reared back. I got the feeling it was angry. The nausea made a comeback.

I was so busy balancing holding on with the urge to hurl that I barely noticed the woman’s voice. It was only a whisper, but boy did it make whispering sound angry.

“ Son of Poseidon ,” it hissed, “ begone from this place! Learn what your father cannot, and recognize where you are not welcome. ”

Nobody else could hear her. Or they just had more important things to worry about. “Who are you? How are you doing this?”

“ Begone! ”

Another whirlpool opened, even bigger than the first, right under our boat. Somebody screamed. I don’t think it was me.

The voice had disappeared, but I still felt sick. With every rotation of the boat I came closer to spewing. Hint: there were a lot of those. 

It was only luck I was looking out the window when the worst happened. 

The father and son combo had been stuck at the front of the boat when everything went haywire. Until now they’d gotten by huddling down and gripping the guardrail. But this new mega-whirlpool was too much. Without anything the dad could do his son toppled out from under him, sliding for the edge. 

“Dad!” The kid wailed, fingers scrabbling against the polished floor. His eyes got wider and wider. The longer he slid the faster he went until–

He toppled overboard, shrieking as he went.

I squeezed Anthea’s shaft. Even if the kid could swim, a Gold Medalist would drown in water that violent. With about three seconds before impact, I threw everything I had into controlling the waves.

I focused completely on one little section of the bay. When the uneasiness hit, I shoved it aside. That wasn’t important right now. I could do this.

At some point I’d closed my eyes. It made focusing easier. But now I was scared to open them, worried what I might find. Slowly, tentatively, I cracked them open.

The dad was still plastered to the guardrail, staring over the edge with worried eyes that were panning up, and up, and up–

A tendril of water fired into sight, like a serpent the size of a grain silo. Balancing on top of it, submerged to his knees, was the kid.

“Gyarados used Surf!” he shouted, wind blowing his blond hair in every direction. “It was super effective!”

I directed the water to set him down on the deck. He was so excited he forgot to hold onto something, and almost fell overboard a second time before his dad grabbed him. I couldn’t watch any longer. As happy as I was the kid wasn’t dead, the ship was still going down.

I might be fine if we sunk, but what about my friends? The strangers who’s only mistake was getting on the same boat as us? I wouldn’t let it happen. The water would clear.

It wasn’t easy. Fighting for control felt like wading through waist-deep mud. Every inch of progress was as hard-won as a six-minute mile. 

But it was happening. The whirlpool fragmented into smaller ones, which in turn broke down into ripples. The waves hit progressively lower down the hull. The boat’s rocking, before violent and unpredictable, settled to a subtle sway.

Bianca clawed her way up. “You couldn’t have done that sooner?”

I rolled onto my back, looking up with half-lidded eyes. “I didn’t see you helping.”

“But this is supposed to be your redeeming feature. If you don’t have this, what do you have?”

I winced, swallowing hard. “Shut up,” I said, “or I’ll vomit on your shoes.”

On the other side of the boat, the pile of bodies was disentangling themselves. Prometheus was one of the last to come up, rolling out from under an obese tourist in a straining XXL Puget Sounds Good t-shirt. 

“How exhilarating,” he said when he’d walked across to us. “I always enjoyed roller coasters. Ones you don’t know the ending to are a special treat.”

I used Anthea like a celestial bronze walking stick to pull myself up. “Sorry if I don’t feel like going for a second ride.”

“We should probably get out of here, then,” Bianca said. 

She was staring out the window, toward where dark clouds had gathered about a hundred feet further out than us. They seemed impatient. Angry. For a second, I thought I could see a face in the swirling storm– a woman’s, with a neck made of rainclouds and puffy eyes fixed on our boat. Watching to see if we’d come any further, I guess. Or waiting for us to let down our guard. 

“I second that,” I said, aware of the irony in what I was about to say. “I’m ready to have ground under my feet. Where’s Emmitt?”

“I have not seen him,” Prometheus admitted. “Perhaps he’s already on deck?”

But Bianca pointed to the other side of the room, where the titan had risen from. Squashed down, pretty close to a pancake, lay Emmitt. When I came closer and hauled him up, he was still moaning about overweight tourists and too-heavy titans.

The captain had similar ideas to us, at least in getting back to shore. In minutes the ferry was reattached to the pier, families rushing to disembark. We were some of the last, but by the time we’d regrouped at a bench with a view of the dock, the ominous clouds were gone. If we tried to board the next ferry, I didn’t doubt for a second they would be back in full force.

“So… What do we do now?” I looked at the others. “I mean, that could’ve gone better.”

Bianca snorted. “You don’t say.”

“Hey!” Emmitt said. “We got, like, eighty feet before stopping. That’s something.”

“And now we’re right back where we started. That is nothing.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Alright. Any ideas, Prometheus?”

I don’t know how he’d done it without me noticing, but the titan had his crosswords back out, scribbling away. He’d even found a fresh scone from somewhere. “We could always venture out on the next ferry. Perhaps our fate will be different.”

“You just want another ride,” Bianca said. “You don’t fool me.”

Prometheus smiled. “Guilty. But if you would prefer another course of action, come up with one. Use your inventiveness. Think outside of the box. When faced with a challenge, surmount it, through guile, strength, or wit.”

“You mean a test,” I said.

“Only if you approach it as such,” he countered. “So long as we set out before tomorrow is up, our schedule won’t be delayed. Find a path forward. Or make one. Regardless, I will be waiting here.”

Bianca didn’t wait around to second-guess him. “Fine. Be back later.”

Without other choices, Emmitt and I followed her. The three of us picked our way through the crowd, passing shaken-up faces I recognized from our short voyage.

“Are you sure it was smart to just leave like that?” Emmitt asked.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you hear him? This is what we’re supposed to do.”

“But…” Emmitt glanced around like he was worried someone was eavesdropping. “What if we can’t figure anything out?”

“We have to,” I said. “He might get annoying, but Prometheus is right. Where we’re going, we have to be able to rely on ourselves.”

Emmitt puffed out his chest, like he thought making himself bigger would give him a better chance of finding something to rely on. “I’ll try.”

Emergency vehicles had arrived. Ambulances and police cars were parked on the curb, stations set up to bandage bruised passengers and take their reports at the same time. A local news crew was setting up a shot with the ferry building. I wondered what headline they would run. Breaking news: Local storm says “Screw this boat in particular!” .

I saw a couple people I recognized. The kid I’d saved was hopping around a policemen, throwing his hands up and bringing them down like spires of water. The cop had a notepad in his hands but didn’t think anything he was getting was worth writing down.

We walked further down to get away from the crowds, reaching a little boardwalk. Waterfront Park the sign said, but I didn’t see the park part. Wooden walkways ran the perimeter of touristy restaurants and knickknack shops. We grabbed three overpriced ice cream cones and settled around an outdoor table for a strategy session.

“So,” I said, “have either of you traveled much?”

Bianca licked a trail of vanilla off the side of her sugar cone. “I went back to D.C. last summer. We were driven there and back, though. Some lawyer charged with checking up on us. I doubt Mrs. Schmeltzer would drop her cases and race over to drive us to Alaska. She probably thinks I’m dead.”

Emmitt didn’t question that she’d said “we” which I was grateful for. Whether he was being considerate or hadn’t noticed, bringing up Bianca’s brother would only get her angry at him.

“I’ve traveled a little,” Emmitt said. “Monsters don’t really notice me that much.” I don’t know why he sounded kind of sad. I would’ve kissed The Fates’ toenails for that sort of luck. “We always drove though. Sorry.”

“Square one it is then.” To make myself feel better, I took a big bite from the top scoop of my rocky road ice cream.

I did have one idea. There was a way we could travel fast, fast enough reach Alaska in less than a day. But The Labyrinth was as dangerous as dangerous got. We had no way to navigate it– hell, we didn’t even know if there was an entrance nearby. There had to be a smarter option.

Across the boardwalk, moving like a pack, I spotted the same group of punks I’d seen earlier. Something about their torn leather clothes and spiked jewelry cheered me up a little. It felt familiar, like–

Like Thalia. My good mood turned on its head.

So when I saw one of them swipe a couple of drinks from an outdoor stand while the vendor wasn’t looking, I stood up.

“Percy?” Bianca asked.

I made a fist, and one of the pilfered drinks – a bottle of Aquafina – exploded. Controlling water with nothing fighting me for control felt amazing. It was like being able to move my fingers after months stuck in a cast. 

The cloud of water spun around the thief until every drop had been absorbed by his clothes and hair. He stood, sputtering, too disoriented to make a getaway. I started toward them.

Bianca grabbed my hand. “Percy! What in the world are you doing?”

I looked back reluctantly. “That guy was stealing. I’m stopping him.”

“You already did.” The scene had caused enough of a commotion for the vendor to notice the bottles in the teen’s arms. He shouted, waving his arms, and a crowd gathered. 

“Let it go,” Bianca said. “We have other things to worry about, right? I’m not drowning tomorrow because you felt like going on a vigilante spree.”

My irritation deflated. I sighed, sitting back down at the table. The punks took off, pushing their way out of the crowd and running off, the shopkeeper shaking his fist behind them. As they passed us, one of them made eye contact with me and nudged another. I hoped they slipped and fell and bruised their tailbones.

We talked until our ice creams were memories, but couldn’t come any closer to figuring out what to do. Bianca had it in her head that a seaplane was the way to go. 

“Think about it,” she said, “we’d be above the water, so no problems there. And as long as we don’t fly too high, how is That Guy ever going to know?”

“How high we fly isn’t the problem,” Emmitt said. “I don’t want my feet to leave the ground.”

“Scared?” Bianca challenged.

“Yes!” Emmitt said. “I’m not made to go up there.”

“Anyway,” I added, “remember those storm clouds on the ferry? Whatever hit us today can make more than waves. We don’t even know how high we’d have to fly to avoid it. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not too hot on hitting that storm trapped in a metal pod hundreds of feet off the ground.”

Bianca crossed her arms. “Fine. What are your brilliant ideas?”

Emmitt had his own plan. “Let’s find a car. It’s perfect! We can travel at our own pace, pick our own route, and best of all we’ll be on the ground the entire time. No flying, or sailing, or anything scary.”

Bianca snorted. “And who’s going to drive?”

“We could find someone?” Emmitt didn’t sound so sure himself.

I shook my head. “They’d have to be willing to drop everything for some kids they just met. Unless Bianca has that lawyer on speed dial, I don’t see it working out.”

“Ah, um, well… it’s not like a seaplane makes any more sense!”

“That’s just because you aren’t thinking about it right,” Bianca argued. “It’s a little risky–”

“A little!?”

“Alright, alright.” I thumped my hands on the table, interrupting the two. “Let’s keep it calm. We can’t get distracted.”

Bianca threw up her hands. “Oh, sorry Mr. I-Must-Catch-All-Thieves. I forgot how good you were at staying on topic.”

“Wow.” Emmitt stared at her. “That was kinda mean.”

“It was supposed to be!” 

Seeing Bianca scowling reminded me of something, and I didn’t think it was that I saw the sight at least once a day. Something about the way her lips curled, and folds in her cheeks, screamed that I’d seen an expression exactly like it, I just couldn’t place where.

“We won’t figure anything out sitting here,” I decided. “Let’s look around. If we have to, we can find a plane service I guess. Or we can go looking for a driver. But we’ll keep our eyes open, and if a better option comes up, we’ll take it. Sound good?”

Bianca didn’t answer, which wasn’t a no. Emmitt smiled tentatively. I clapped.

“It’s settled, then. Let’s see what we can turn up.”

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

Making Friends Through Violence

For the record, when I said we'd find something I thought it would at least wait until we'd left Waterfront Park.

Instead, waiting where the wood turned back into sidewalk cement, were the punks whose theft attempt I'd foiled.

It was the first time I really got a look at them. Their t-shirts all had skull patterns, and parts looked like they'd taken scissors to the edges. Two wore eyeliner. One was using a rusty chain for a belt. I'd noticed the piercings and spiked bracelets before, but up close I spotted something new– they were all fakes, clip-on earrings and plastic jewelry. All of them had tattoos on their necks and arms, but the designs on the guy I'd drenched were half-dissolved. They were the press-on ones that came off after a shower. All in all, they looked like rich kids playing dress-up, or low-budget actors preparing for a play.

Their faces were identical, too. I hadn't noticed from a distance since each was wearing his black hair differently– a mohawk, a buzzcut, even one with a mullet. Some had added neon dye to make pink or yellow streaks. But their features, eye color, and angry expressions were one-hundred-percent the same, mirrored five times.

The one in front held out his hands. I didn't need three guesses to figure out which he was. Water still dripped from his fingertips.

"We were waiting for you!" he said.

"Do we know you?" I asked.

Truth be told, seeing them up close was reminding me exactly why I stepped in in the first place. It made me happy they'd sought us out. Stress relief was an important part of any brainstorming process.

"We aren't stupid," said the one at the end. His mohawk was a few inches too short to be considered cool, and the lines of pink and purple weren't helping. "We saw you, um… What was it we saw again?"

The one in front, who I took for the leader, glared. "Charrer, if you can't look cool doing it, don't say anything at all."

"But Shatterer–"

"Don't give my name away!"

Charrer cringed. "But you used mine…"

"They can know the minions!" Shatterer said. "Don't you know anything? Only the boss has to be mysterious."

It was like watching a tennis match. I wondered if they really were amateur actors, and this was some kind of rehearsal.

"I'm glad you guys are enjoying yourselves," I said. "If you don't mind, we'll just slip past…"

We inched to the side to move around them. Two stepped across, blocking our path.

"Think they're gettin' away they do," said the one on the left. He had dreads, and must've pulled the short straw with their party-trick tattoos. While the others had tigers and spiders he was stuck with a cute, fat duck down the side of his arm. "Ain't that right, Smasher?"

The one on the right grinned. Despite his buzzed head, his pearly teeth looked ridiculously well cared for. "Took the words from my mouth, Destroyer."

Emmitt held up a hand. "Just checking, but are those codenames? Because if they are, I think you could get more creative. Branding is important these days, and the first thing people see is the name. To stand out, you have to pick one that will stick with people, but not in a way that grosses them out. The right name can increase recognition by up to sixty percent. Like how Bucky becoming the Winter Soldier let him totally redefine his image. The worst thing you can do is let yourself be confused with someone else. Then whatever you do people might mistake for someone else's work, and your effort goes to waste. This works for good deeds and bad deeds, but it's ideal for…"

He trailed off, suddenly aware we were all staring at him.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Sorry." His shoelaces became the most interesting thing on the waterfront. "They reminded me of superheroes with the names, and it just sort of came out."

Biographical detail added: Emmitt was a comic geek. In more pressing concerns, our path was still being blocked, and we didn't have time to be throwing away.

"Marketing rants aside," I said, "you haven't said why you're talking to us. You mentioned seeing me do something? Tell me about it, so I can explain why you're wrong and we can all go our separate ways."

"He's trying to talk his way out!" Smasher jeered.

Destroyer smirked. "Knows he's getting his teeth knocked in he does."

"And he probably has to go to the bathroom!" Charrer joined in.

"You really won't get out of the way?" I asked.

"We're onto you my man," Shatterer said. "I know it was you with the bottle. You stepped on our toes, stopped us having our fun. We don't let things like that go."

"Alright." Bianca pulled her bow case off her shoulder. "That's enough, isn't it? They aren't leaving and they definitely aren't normal. A regular person would never assume you moved water with your mind."

"Yeah," I agreed. "That's all we need."

In two swift flicks Bianca's bow was freed and drawn. She was getting fast at that. Practicing when I wasn't looking? Anyway, I didn't bother with my weapon yet.

It was honestly messing with my head. I thought I had gotten past Thalia's death. It was so far in the past, and it wasn't like we knew each other that long in the first place. I wasn't Luke. But it was hard not to get close to someone when you save each other's lives. It might have only been a few months, but I cared about her, and looking at these guys was making a scene play in my head on repeat– one with Furies and a storm that pissed me off way more than their dumb threats.

With three lightning-fast steps I was right in Shatterer's face. And I punched it. Hard.

Shatterer crumpled. The noise was so loud people looked over. A few started taking videos, and I wondered if I was going to end up on YouTube. Evil Freshman Assaults Innocent Punks! **Gone Wrong**

Even Bianca winced. "Ouch. Anger issues much?"

"You were going to shoot them with arrows!"

"Maybe," she said. "But I don't think I'll need to now."

The punks were all staring at me. Destroyer and Smasher were backing away slowly. Charrer was frozen on the spot. Only the last one didn't look shaken. He was watching a seagull strut down the boardwalk with a dumb little smile on his face.

At my feet, Shatterer moaned. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" I couldn't believe it. "You said you'd knock our teeth out!"

"But that's your teeth," Shatterer said. "Doesn't mean you can go and hit us first. The good guys always fight fair. Those are the rules!"

I crossed my arms. "You're a hypocrite. How many people have you jumped like this that couldn't fight back?"

"N-none," said Charrer. "We don't like violence much. Vandalism is way better. But Shatterer was really mad you drenched him. He convinced us to try something new."

On the ground, Shatterer covered his face. I think it was more to hide his blush than the purple splotch forming under his eye. "Just get out of here!" he shouted at us.

Suddenly Bianca was there, kneeling in front of him, setting her bow on the ground. "Oh, we will. We'll go far, far away. The problem is, we're a little stuck right now. If we don't figure something out we'll be staying here. Right here, where you are, for a looong time. You don't want that, do you?"

The punks shook their heads.

"Perfect." Bianca smiled widely. "We need some locals to show us around. I'm so glad you volunteered. First, any idea how to get to Alaska? Someone willing to drive four people to Anchorage tomorrow?"

She paused just long enough for Shatterer to open his mouth, but not long enough for him to get a sound out. "Of course you can't. It's a stupid idea. What about seaplanes, though? There have to be some of those. Just take us to one."

There was a moment of silence. "Uh, yeah," said Charrer. "There's a seaplane place. W-we can take you there. Right away Ma'am."

Bianca preened at the Ma'am part. I guess she was weak to praise. "Lead on."

"Wait." Shatterer peeled his hands off his face. There were tears on his cheek, making his blotchy bruise blotchier. "All you need is a way to Alaska?"

We shared a look.

"Well, technically it is–"

"Yes," I interrupted Bianca. "It doesn't have to be a plane or anything."

Even if it was the last place he wanted to look, he stared straight at me as he said, "There's somebody you should meet."

The punks led us down a couple of side streets to the least evil car I had ever seen: a beat-up Subaru minivan at least two decades out of date.

"Really?" Bianca said. "This is your car?"

Shatterer beeped the key fob, striding around to the driver's side. "Nobody's laughing when the doors pop open and five batches of evil leap out. Besides, nobody wanted to ride in a middle seat."

"You know their slogan is all about love, right?" I asked.

"Just get in," Shatterer said, shutting the door.

Bianca took shotgun. Charrer squeezed in beside Smasher and Destroyer in the middle row. Which left me and Emmitt in the back with the last guy.

I'd noticed before, but something seemed off about this one. He hadn't threatened us. He hadn't fought. I wasn't entirely sure he knew what was going on. His eyes were glazed like a concussion victim.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He stared at me. "Eleven."

"That's an… interesting name."

He nodded. "Seagulls. Purple."

"Riiiight."

Shatterer started the van and pulled into the street. He didn't signal, which seemed to improve his mood enough to get him to stop scowling.

"His name isn't eleven," Smasher said from the middle row. "That's just his favorite number. His name's Crudebake."

"Crudebake!" agreed Crudebake. Then he got an idea. "Eleven Crudebakes?"

"Just one," Charrer said. "Thank the gods."

"Ruin our reputation enough already with just the one of you, you do," said Destroyer. "The great Daemons Ceramici will never instill fear toting a runt like you around."

The van was surprisingly clean. An air freshener shaped like a hammer dangled from the rearview mirror. Bobbleheads of mythical creatures lined the dashboard, seemingly custom-made. My favorite was a lopsided hellhound wedged between a cyclops in a tunic and a dracaena wearing a tutu. The hellhounds tongue hung out, reminding me how long it had been since I saw my own dog.

"Daemons…" I said. "You all are spirits."

"Feel like respecting us yet?" grumbled Shatterer as he cut off a Tesla, then quickly switched back to the lane he'd been in before. The other driver honked. The sound only fed Shatterer more energy. "Your lives are flashes to us. A blink. Nothing. Get it? We've walked this planet for thousands of years."

"And still can't take a punch," Bianca said.

Shatterer glared. He didn't say anything, though. We all knew it was true.

After fifteen minutes I noticed the neighborhood outside the dirty windows getting pretty nice. Gone were the cramped apartment complexes and grimy exteriors. We were in the land of three-bedroom homes, front yards, and landscaped hedges. The type of places you wouldn't be surprised if they had a maid. As we climbed higher the views got better, and the driveways filled with progressively more expensive sports cars.

"Are you sure we should be here?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious of the dirty minivan we were backfiring our way into suburbia in.

"Of course!" said Charrer. "We come here all the time."

"I'm warning you, if this is all some elaborate trick to dump us and get us arrested, I'll track you down and waterboard you and your ride."

From the driver's seat, Shatterer shivered. "We work here, man. And tricks like that aren't our style. If we're going to mess you up, we'll do it to your face. Stabbing backs isn't cool, even if it is evil."

Bianca rolled her eyes. "At least you have honor. What do you do, trim lawns? Dust wardrobes?"

"We're contractors," Shatterer said. "People hire us to get them… un-stuck, I guess you could say. Our longest-term client lives right up here." He pointed out the dashboard, resting his hand on the cyclops bobblehead. "That place. The red one."

I was kind of disappointed. Hearing that they hired these wackos, I figured the house would look as eccentric as the owner must be. Maybe some wizard spires. A revolving glass door or two. Anything you'd look at and say, "Wow, don't see that every day."

Instead, aside from spiffy a coat of paint somewhere between cherry and plum, it was a big two-story home with nothing to differentiate it from the hundreds of other houses in the neighborhood.

We pulled to the curb and all spilled out. I wondered if any of the neighbors were peaking through their blinds, glaring at the eight disheveled teens that had the nerve to pollute their immaculate suburb.

Shatterer led the way over granite stepping stones laid across quartz shards. I smelled freshly cut grass from neighbors' backyards. Back the way we'd come, a leafblower whined.

A short set of white steps led up to the door. Shatterer took them without pausing and knocked three times.

I could hear a voice talking inside, but only one. It got louder until I could hear footsteps. A latch unhooked.

The door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman with serious eyes and brown hair captured in a tight bun, scattered strands escaping here and there. Her lips hung loose like she wasn't used to smiling. I didn't think she was old, but her skin was already wrinkling in all the places it would crease with stress. A smartphone was pressed to her head. There was a pencil was tucked behind her left ear, a ballpoint pen behind her right, and an uncapped marker was held between her teeth.

"I'll geh you deh design by tomorrah," she said into the phone, slurring slightly from the marker. "Don' ruh me."

A voice squeaked something angry from the phone. She cut it off by hanging up. She pocketed her smartphone, took the marker out of her mouth, and pointed the inky red tip to Shatterer. "It's not the weekend, guys. You know what that means. I work, and you don't. So tell me, why are you here?"

Shatterer answered carefully, looking between me and the woman as he went, making sure his words weren't putting weight on either set of toes: "Well we… came across these fine demigods here, and it seems they've got a request of the utmost importance to them."

"Came across? Yeah, sure." The lady stared at his bruised cheek. "You threatened them, didn't you? Of course you did. You wouldn't look so scared otherwise, and you never would've taken them all the way to see me."

"No!" Shatterer said. "Well, maybe. But you've got to listen to their story. I think this might be a chance."

She sighed, rubbing fingers through the creases on her forehead. "I'm working. You know how little time I have on these days. But I'll give you five minutes to explain, just for my most trusted business associates."

"Aren't we your only associates?" Charrer asked.

"For now," the woman said. "Be grateful for the lack of competition. It's the only reason you have a chance. The clock is ticking, by the way."

Without saying anything, Shatterer stepped out of the way. Everyone looked at me.

"Hey. I'm Percy."

The woman's lips went flat– which, with how a frown seemed natural for them, I took as her way of smiling. "Nice to meet you, Percy. My name's Rose. Let's hear why you've been brought to pitiful old me."

I wasn't sure I'd call anyone with a house this nice pitiful, but maybe that was the poor kid in me talking. I spilled our destination, choice of ferry, and the way the ocean played a little prank. The only things I skipped were why we were going to Alaska, and any mention of how we escaped. I'd been caught in too many traps to go blabbing key details like that. If this turned out to be a set up, I didn't want Rose to have any idea what I could do until her kitchen sink turned against her.

When I was done, Rose checked her phone. "Three minutes fifty-five seconds. Nice concision. Spell it out for me, though– what are you asking for?"

I shared a look with the others.

"A way North?" Emmitt said hesitantly.

"What kind?" Rose pressured. "A plane ticket? I could get you guys a discount. You look like you could use it. Or are you asking to borrow my car? Because that's a no. Tell me specifically. One minute left."

"We don't know." Bianca dug her heel into the rocks, crunching quartz. "We're only here because these idiots said you could help."

"We can't fly," I said. "It would get dangerous. None of us know how to drive. We were planning to take a boat before that random storm–"

"Eurybia," Rose interrupted. "Her name's Eurybia. Fifty seconds."

"You know her," I realized.

"You could put it like that."

"Then tell us about her. What do you know?"

"A lot more than you have time to hear in forty seconds. Eurybia's a vengeful old bag. Stay away from her, or she'll never let you go."

"But how do you beat her?" I asked.

It had started to drizzle, drops falling soundlessly. Rose smiled for the first time– a sad, defeated expression. "You don't. Thirty seconds."

Before I could snap at her, Shatterer stepped in front of me.

"Listen," he said. "I know you don't like talking about Eurybia. After all she's done to you, I get it. But these guys here might be your shot–"

"Twenty seconds," Rose said.

"Then let me talk! Anyway, I've got a story. I was liberating a few refreshments from tyrannical rule with my swift dexterity. I pulled it off perfectly, of course. The ugly, wrinkly, stupid shopkeeper never spotted a thing. And then–"

"Ten seconds."

"AND THEN the craziest thing happens. A bottle explodes! This water's got a mind of its own, wrapping around and harassing me. I fought it off, of course. While I'm doing that, though, I look and see this kid staring over, watching it happen. And when I say this kid, I mean THIS kid, the one in front of you. I can't be sure, but I've got my suspicions, so I thought I should bring him to you."

A high-pitched bell chimed. An alarm from Rose's phone, the end of the timer she'd sent. Five minutes was up.

"And there goes my break." Rose ran a hand over her hair, flattening loose strands. "Nice meeting you, hope you get where you're going, fill in the rest on your own."

She began closing the door. Shatterer hopped onto the top step. "Rose, just a second."

"You got three hundred of those."

"He's a son of Poseidon!" Shatterer shouted.

The door shut.

I was about to say, welp, that's it, and jump back in the van so we could drive somewhere with less of a view and more of a mess where I might feel comfortable.

The door flung open.

"You!" Rose shoved Shatterer out of the way and grabbed my collar with two hands. "Poseidon!?"

I thought about going for my sword, but nothing in her face said she was trying to hurt me. Honestly, she looked desperate. Shaking my head no seemed like it would destroy her faster than any weapon.

Luckily, that wasn't an issue.

"Yeah," I admitted. "That's my dad."

I'd never seen a grown woman cry before, but there were a couple tears in the corner of her eye. "This changes everything. Everything! Shatterer you amazing, stupid idiot. Why would you not lead with that?"

Shatterer coughed. For how tough he usually tried to look, getting praised sure made him blush. "I was just trying to build up to things. Good storytelling y'know."

"We all brought them," Charrer spoke up. "It wasn't just Shatterer!"

"Then all of you are amazing! Hail the Daemons Ceramici!" Rose spun, marching into her home. "Follow me, glorious dumbasses!"

The Daemons really were identical. They all wore the same dopey blush as they plodded into the home.

"Duh-har-har," giggled Crudebake. "Crudebake is glorious."

It was quickly down to our trio on the porch.

"Are we going in?" Emmitt asked. "What if it's a trap?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice," I said. "This is the best lead we have. Besides, I smell chocolate."

Our stomachs grumbled in unison.

"First one to the food," Bianca said.

Before Emmitt or I could get a word out she'd sprinted inside. We followed, of course. I wasn't letting her hog the snacks.

On the other side of the door was a hallway, long and straight. The carpet was clean, the air only slightly stuffy, but I noticed lines of dust along the corners, like it hadn't been cleaned since last year.

There were a lot of pictures on the walls. In one, a racing sailboat crested a wave taller than its mast. In another, a man with a striking resemblance to Rose stood holding a baby, his other arm over the shoulder of an older man that must've been his dad. The dad was built like a gray-haired linebacker wearing a checkered shirt and polo shorts, but he never could've been an athlete with those legs. They were grizzled and scarred, with one knee bending left even though he was standing up straight.

I also noticed a bunch of employee of the month certificates stamped. These had been pinned up clumsily, like whoever had done it didn't even want to look at what they were hanging.

The living room was nice enough. The scent of sweets was in the air, and I could hear a wind chime somewhere outside the sliding glass backdoor. The Daemons were sitting on the thick carpet around a wooden table coated with sugary treats. I could hear Rose in the next room over, humming to herself as she grabbed more from the freezer.

"Took you long enough," Bianca said through a mouthful of chocolate. "C'mon, have some."

It would've felt more genuine if she didn't grab another handful of Hershey Kisses before we could get close.

"Ah! He's here!" Rose bustled in, dropping a Costco-sized box of trail mix by the table. "Perfect. Let's get to planning!"

At some point she'd pulled her hair out of the bun, letting it run free. She looked five years younger. It might've been her grin.

"Can we slow down for a second?" I asked. "What are we even planning?"

Rose walked to a cushy recliner and dropped onto it, splaying out. "How to beat Eurybia, of course."

"Didn't you say that was impossible?"

"That was before I had you." She jammed her fingers between the chair's cushion and the armrest. A couple seconds later she came up holding a notebook, hastily flipping to a blank page. "Do you think you could mitigate structural strain by breaking down the undertow?

"Huh?"

She tapped her pencil's eraser against her lip. "No, you're right, that's silly. Much better to focus on redirecting the whirlpool's inertia."

"Ignore her," Shatterer said. "Once she gets like this, nobody can understand a word. She'll calm down soon and explain it in normal words."

"Yeah," Bianca said, "have some chocolate. Oh, none of mine though!"

I squeezed into the space between her and Emmitt. Just to be spiteful, I did take one of her chocolates, although I timed it to when she wasn't looking. I caught Shatterer watching, and he gave me a grudgingly approving nod.

There wasn't anything crazy about the room. The carpets smelled a little like beeswax. Unlike the hallway it was well-cleaned, particularly one corner with a laptop sitting next to headphones and a familiar smartphone. The phone was buzzing with a new text every few seconds, but Rose didn't look its way once.

There was one thing that was a little odd. Perched on a one-legged stand next to the kitchen door was a glass bottle, a model ship set up ] inside.

You should know this by now, but I'm awful at doing nothing. I went to check it out.

There was a gold plaque on the front with an inscription– The Argo. Greatest ship to sail the seas.

"Ah, careful!" Charrer stood up, raising his hands. Then he realized who he was rebuking, and clammed up. "I mean, only if you feel like it, but that's kind of–"

"He means it's valuable," Shatterer said. "And not just a little."

I leaned closer without brushing the glass. "I can tell."

This wasn't just a model. The rudder was functional. The sails were set perfectly. Every inch of wood gleamed with varnish. Somehow I knew just from looking that a full-sized version would be sea-worthy.

"Like it?" Rose asked, arriving back from notebook land.

"It's beautiful," I admitted.

"Three thousand years ago my ancestor, Argus, made it before he set the real thing out to sail. Heard of him? The architect behind the Argonauts' boat, greatest shipwright to ever live? Our family's chased the perfection he achieved ever since."

"Three thousand years old?" I asked. "It looks like it was made yesterday."

Rose smiled sardonically. "Athena's blessing. The wood will never weather so long as one of the family is alive. The only one of her gifts we have left."

I flinched slightly, stepping away. Paranoid, I know, but hearing it was an Olympian's gift made me worry it would start shooting lasers if I stayed too close.

"I guess you aren't on terms with her anymore?" Bianca asked.

She said it casually, but I caught her hand leaving the chocolates to rest on her bow. I wasn't the only paranoid one.

Rose just laughed. "You could say that. We built ships for her for millennia. Not just her, for all the gods. Anyone's favorite demigod needs a ship that won't fail them? Call Argus's descendants, they'll get the job done. Poseidon had dozens of kids in our family. Hephaestus is my grandfather. Athena was our patron, the hand that guided Argus himself and would watch over us forever… or so we thought."

She slammed her fist into the recliner, making springs squawk. "The next big thing comes around and nobody wants you anymore! Ships? So nineteenth century. It's all about planes now. Planes this, planes that, planes planes planes. What's so great about those flying cans?"

"I get you," I said.

"So get you," Emmitt agreed. "Overrated. Awful really."

"Well I wasn't giving up!" Rose, well, rose in her seat, chin jutting to the room. "I was going to stick with my craft. So what if that cranky owl spinstress had a new hobby? I'd make a boat so powerful, so sleek, so sexy that they'd have no choice except to come crawling back!"

She deflated. Her back dropped against the cushions, arms dangling off the sides. "Others had different plans. When you're on a pedestal, it's hard knowing who you've made an enemy of. With our protection blanket yanked off, it was open season."

"This is where Eurybia comes in?" I guessed.

"Among others," Rose said. "She's the worst though. The rest got bored after a few decades. Not her. The goddess of sea conditions couldn't stand how our boats cut through her tailwinds and skipped over her storms. Now whenever one of our boats takes to the seas she sinks it. Every time, without fail, no matter the size or place. She only sits outside Seattle because she knows that I'm here, the only one left. My father died a ruined man. I'll die a ruined woman. In a way, I already am."

She rubbed circles in her temples. "Only Boeing would hire me. Their genius engineer. Two-hundred-fifty thousand a year to design airplanes. Remote working. Flexible hours. This beautiful, hollow house. I hate it."

"You asked what we do." Shatterer matched the mood, keeping his voice quiet. "In the old days, we would break potters' work. You could say we were born for it. Daemons Ceramici, banes of clay work everywhere. At some point, people got the idea we helped with artistic inspiration. By creating something even we can't destroy, artists push past their limits. That's the rumor at least."

"Rose pays us to mess up her work," Smasher said. "Stealing blueprints for new boats. Breaking tools. Unplugging the coffee maker. The idea is, eventually, she'd come up with her own masterpiece."

"Hasn't happened yet," Destroyer said.

"Of course it hasn't." Rose shook her head. "A ship that could survive Eurybia's storms? That's impossible. It doesn't matter how well you design it or what materials you use. Some waters can't be sailed."

"Unless you had someone to clear them for you," I said.

I could see the change in her face. Dimples formed on her cheeks. Her eyebrows raised. She grinned, back to the exuberance she'd showed at hearing my heritage. "That would change things. I'm taking that as an offer, by the way."

"It is," I said. "But we need something in return."

"Name your price. You want a kidney? My life savings? Help my baby set sail and it's yours."

"Can your, uh, baby reach Alaska?"

"I'll forgive you for asking that, because you don't really know who you're talking to yet." Rose held up all her fingers. "Give me ten minutes. Eight to pack, and one to quit my job."

"What's the last minute for?" Emmitt wondered.

Rose pushed herself up. The drizzle outside had hardened into real rain, drops clinking on the darkened windows. "The last minute is for getting the camera. When we make Eurybia cry, I am going to immortalize it, frame it, and hang it over my bed while I sleep for the rest of my life. Every time I roll over I'll see her miserable, and remember there is some good in this dark cold world. Anyone want more snacks?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 35

I Send a Goddess Surfing

I thought Prometheus' trick to get Bianca's bow through security was impressive. It had nothing on the magic he'd worked at Colman Dock.

Somehow, impossibly, he'd built himself a blanket of papers and pastry wrappers. Filled-in crosswords completely hid his legs. Staff walked past blindly, the mess not even registering. In the time it took to walk over to him Prometheus added another crossword to the collection.

In the end, I had to physically touch his shoulder to get his attention.

"Oh, back so soon?" Prometheus frowned. "I was just finding my groove."

"Uh, sure," I said, because if this was him out of his groove, I'd hate to see how fast he could actually go. "We've got a ride."

"Ah. I suppose it can't be helped then." He stood, sheets cascading off. "Do lead on."

We'd had to take two cars to fit everyone. Charrer drove the van with the other Daemons, while Emmitt Bianca and I rode in Rose's Orange Mustang GT.

When Prometheus and I got in the sports car, him taking the passenger side and me in the back, Rose stared.

"When they said they had a fourth, I was surprised," she said. "I figured they were three demigods on a quest before. But you… You aren't mortal, are you?"

"Me?" Prometheus smiled. "I'm a titan."

I choked. Where'd his sense of delicacy gone? I mean sure, Rose would need to know at some point, but that didn't mean he had to dunk it on her head like a post-championship Gatorade bath.

I was pretty convinced she was going to scream and kick us out, but Rose only sighed. "I thought so."

"That isn't an issue for you?" I asked.

Rose started the car. "Ehh, I'm not thrilled it's come to this. But the gods made it clear where they stood when they turned their backs on us. If you can get my boats back out there, I don't care if your Kronos himself."

"Oh, no need to worry about that." Prometheus smiled. "We're only his emissaries."

As she eased the Mustang into two lanes of thick traffic, Rose shook her head. "What have I gotten myself into this time…"

We drove parallel with the water, the Daemons van shadowing us, for about twenty minutes before turning onto some smaller roads. Docks coated the water here, masts bobbing in congested rows. Each was connected to a separate spotless sailboat, all with punny names like "The Codfather" or "Holy Ship". After a bit we passed this, too, and were driving between blocky buildings constructed right over the water.

The warehouse Rose hit the breaks in front of was tall, clean, and almost intimidating. If not for the windows it would've looked like a bomb shelter. The door had four locks and a fingerprint machine. Rose caught me looking and shrugged.

"Had to play it safe," she said. "If I got lax, Eurybia would've thrashed this one too."

Prometheus, who had stepped out of the car to stretch, now leaned his head back in. "Eurybia, did you say?"

"Sure did," Rose said. "But bitch works just as well. Why?"

"Curiosity," said the titan, and he strolled away from the van.

Once inside, Rose flicked a row of switches. High-powered lights clicked on along the roof, illuminating a slick sailboat with a glistening coat of dark green paint. It was clearly a hybrid boat, because I sotted a motor big enough to propel a building on its back. An elevated captain's platform towered over the deck from the stern. From the size, there must have been almost as much room below deck as in Rose's house. Stenciled across the side in golden letters was the name. The Nautes. Sailor, my brain translated.

There was a figure on the front, a woman with a slightly puffy face like she was part cloud. The face was a caricature, with chips off of it and the mouth etched into an ugly frown.

"Is that…"

Rose followed my gaze. "Eurybia? Three guesses and no prizes for right answers. Everyone needs an outlet when they work. Mine… well, you can see it."

A ramp was set up for easy boarding. I went first, followed by Emmitt, Bianca, and Prometheus. Rose came last. When she realized there was no one behind her, she turned.

"What are you guys doing?"

The Daemons jumped. "Seeing you off?" Charrer asked.

She put her foot on the rim of the hull – the gunwale, my mind supplied – and rested both her elbows on her knee. "Why would you be doing that?"

"Because you're going to Alaska," Shatterer said. "Why do you think, woman?"

"Going to Alaska? With no crew? Where did you get a crazy idea like that?"

"No way," Shatterer said.

"An outrageous suggestion!" objected Destroyer.

"We aren't you manual laborers!" said Smasher.

Rose grinned. "You quite literally are. I pay your bills, remember? Or do you have any other clients to pay for your tattoos? This baby is going to sail, and you are going to make it."

Shatterer dug his nails into his palms. He squared his shoulders, met Rose's eyes, and stomped his foot in defiance. "We aren't your minions. We're staying right here, on land, and that is final!"

Fifteen minutes later we sailed out the hangar doors, the Daemons rushing around the deck to get the sail unfurled.

"You know I can control ships, right?" I said to Rose, standing by her as she manned the helm, humming.

"I do," she said. "I did have about a dozen great grandfathers and granduncles that were Poseidon's kids. The rest of us can't stand that stuff though. Ships are made to by worked by hands, not by minds. Nothing beats callouses and old-fashioned toil. Smasher, pull the rope harder! Harder!"

Smasher put his all into yanking– literally. He nearly toppled backwards putting all his weight against the rope. A moment later the sail unfurled further, and Rose nodded approvingly.

"These guys know what they're doing, even if they insist they don't. We spent a lot of time together. As much as they may think all of it was work, we talked. I taught them enough. They won't slow us down."

Watching Destroyer whip up a sailor's knot in seconds flat, I didn't doubt it. "Did you really hire them just to mess up your work?"

"At first." Rose smiled. "I was desperate. Willing to try anything. You'd be surprised what people will do when they think they don't have anything."

"And later?"

"That's less impressive. Life gets lonely. I'll tell you a secret, although it's only a secret to them. They're good company. Stupid, sure. Completely ineffective. But that's their charm."

"Glorious dumbasses, right?"

"Nail, meet head."

We stood in silence. Bianca was prowling the prow, her bow out, scanning the horizon where dark storm clouds were gathering. They hadn't hit us yet, but I wasn't sure that was a good thing. They seemed to be building up, charging something way nastier than anything we'd seen before.

"I'm only going to say this once, while they can't hear." Rose stared intently over the helm's outer arc. "If Eurybia takes these guys from me after I brought them along, it will be my fault. I'll be alone again. Don't let that happen to me. Please."

"I could barely fight her before," I said. "All I did was make her back off, and I barely managed that."

Rose hummed. The flapping sails cast moving shadows across half her face, from the left ear to the chin. "You asked before what I know about Eurybia. The answer's still too much to tell, but there is one thing you should know. Her specialty is external conditions at sea. Things like the wind, the stars, and seasonal weather. That's why she takes the form of storm clouds. Nobody can make gusts or rapids like her."

"So we're screwed?"

"You think I would sail out here without a plan? She's good at what she's good at sure, but what she's good at isn't everything. Focus on the currents, on the water itself, and you can beat her."

Over our heads, the winds picked up. It came from exactly the right angle to push us faster. The Nautes skimmed along the surface like a skipped stone.

"Eurybia's tired of waiting," Rose said. "She's bringing us to her."

Bianca looked back and made eye contact. I nodded. She resumed her pacing and I drew Aelia. Emmitt shook a little, but stuck close to Prometheus. The center of the inky clouds rose up and open like a gaping mouth, and our boat raced into the gullet.

—

Humans are hardwired to fear the dark. Or maybe that's the Poseidon in me getting reminded of my second least favorite uncle. Either way, the tunnel of clouds gave me the creeps.

The wind cut, slowing our boat's pace to a crawl. We drifted along, just enough light penetrating through to show us how screwed we were.

The passage went forever. I couldn't see an exit or an end. It felt like we could sail for hours and end up at the same spot we started.

"On your guard," Rose said. "She'll show herself soon."

She wasn't bluffing about knowing Eurybia. Less than a minute later a funnel descended in our path, spinning and shaking before distilling in the shape of a woman.

I almost laughed. She looked identical to the masthead at the front of the boat, except with flowing gray hair and a toga as white as her marshmallowy skin. Unlike Rose's sculpture, she wasn't frowning. She was smiling.

"Rose, how nice to see you. Decide today was a good day to die? I did warn you last time what would happen if you sailed again."

"Eurybia," Rose greeted. "Still as hideous as ever."

"How many times must we cover this?" Eurybia waggled a water vapor finger. "Form is only limited for mortals like you. I could look like this–" she morphed into a beautiful woman, with lustrous skin and silky onyx hair "–or this–" now she was a child with pigtails and freckles "–or even this."

One more shift, and it was a man floating above our boat. I recognized him down to his shaggy black hair. I'd seen him, earlier that day, in 2D.

Rose's father smirked down at us, sadistically pleased.

"Do leave your nasty fingers off of him," Rose said. Her voice was even, but both her fists were starting to shake on the helm's wooden handles.

Eurybia smirked. "Too late for that, isn't it? I took his business, robbed him of his art, and, well, ruined him. And what comes next?"

"Shut your mouth. Don't you dare."

"To think of a man like that, once so full of vigor, kicking away the stool in his bedroom–"

Rose yanked a lever. A hatch popped open and a nozzle appeared on deck, spewing flames. The column of fire evaporated Eurybia, stolen form and all.

Now, under most conditions, I would've been all over the fact that our boat had a flamethrower. But I was a little distracted.

"Did she mean what I think she meant?"

Rose shook her head. "I told you Daddy didn't take things well. If you really want to know, I'm not hiding anything. But later. Things are just starting."

She was right. Already a new Eurybia had formed, back to her original shape.

"Rude," said the goddess. "Why, if you weren't about to learn your place permanently, I'd be quite livid. What a nice ship you've brought for me to sink this time."

I took a deep breath. "Hey, Ms. Cream Puff! I know you're really into the whole villain act, but we're kind of in a hurry, so if you could speed things up that would be great."

"Ah, yes, the son of Poseidon." Eyes like chunks of hail shifted to me. "I gave you a chance, you know. You could have fled."

"Is that what you want to call getting your butt kicked?"

She chuckled. "Yes, yes. You did save that ferry, didn't you? Managed to get ashore. That will not be happening again. Look around you. There is nowhere to run. You are stuck in my domain. It is cute you have not yet recognized your loss."

Wind rushed by, sounding like a child's giggles. The surface of the water split in whirlpools, none close enough to hit our boat. Yet.

"And who else do we have?" Eurybia's eyes roamed the deck. "A few stray spirits, interchangeable heroes, and… Prometheus!?"

From the center of the deck, hands linked behind his back, Prometheus gazed up. "Hello, Auntie."

"Why did my favorite nephew wait so long to say something?" Eurybia pressed on the sides of her toga. "I would have materialized in something a bit more seemly, and brought along a fish filet. Now I feel like a terrible host. What are you doing in company like this, anyway?"

"Oh, a bit of Kronos' bidding. A bit of my own." Prometheus rubbed a vulture scar bashfully. "Your whirlpools earlier were wonderful, by the way. Have you been practicing?"

"You noticed!"

Eurybia giggled and waved her hand. The cloud tunnel bounced and rumbled, like a contracting stomach.

When she'd calmed down Eurybia said, "I'm going to have to sink this vessel you know. No ill will to you, but a lady can't go back on her word."

Prometheus bowed. "Do what you must, as if I weren't here. Far be it from me to get in your way."

"Lovely. You really do know just what to say."

"Hold on hold on hold on." I smacked my hands on the wooden railing. "You two know each other?"

"Of course," Prometheus said. "Percy, meet my half-aunt by birth, full aunt by marriage."

"Do you understand how weird that sentence is?" Bianca asked.

"Don't strain your tiny brains thinking it over," Eurybia said. "You'll be on the seafloor soon enough anyway. Goodbye, demigods. Goodbye Rose."

Eurybia grinned, her form beginning to fade. The whirlpools expanded. Spires of howling wind descended from the ceiling. The walls began inching closer, squeezing in.

Then Rose flicked another switch. A mechanical arm appeared from between her feet, shooting up to hold a megaphone in front of her face.

"EURYBIA, YOU DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS!"

Rose's amplified voice drowned out the gusts. A second before she disappeared completely, Eurybia rematerialized.

"What desperate trick have you fallen to now?" she asked.

"NO TRICKS!" Rose leaned to the side, speaking around her megaphone. "A boring fight? Throwing storms at the boat until it goes down? Nobody wants that, least of all you. Let's make it a game."

"Quaint. You want a fighting chance. Well, go on. You're meant to hear out the dying's final words, I believe."

"Remember what started all this?" Rose asked. "You better. You had a racket going. Sailors that needed fast passage would pray to you, make offerings, and you'd give them the best winds. You grew rich. Powerful. But then your favored got left in the wake of our boats. How that must've chaffed, knowing your blessing meant less than mortal engineering."

"If you are attempting to convince me not to kill you now," Eurybia said, "then you are doing a very poor job."

"A race! Your chosen against my boat. First to reach the open ocean wins. If I lose, you sink us then and there. But if I win, you never come after my boats ever again. You don't just get the chance to end our family, you can destroy everything we stood for." Rose leaned back behind her megaphone. "OR ARE YOU TOO CHICKEN!"

"Interesting." Eurybia rubbed her chin. "Fascinating. Intriguing. I accept your offer, Rose Villanueva. Enjoy losing everything."

I wondered if we'd have to wait around for Eurybia to find a boat to race. We didn't. A few feet off our starboard side the water split like a sinkhole. A boat sailed vertically into sight before flattening out with a splash. Smasher, the only crewmate on that side, took a brackish shower.

The new boat was a boat in shape only. It had all the parts of a fancy sailing rig, like what Blackbeard would go raiding on, except instead of wood and cloth it was made of mist. The same stuff trapping us from the sun made up the sails and ghostly crew— faceless forms without any detail, like anthropomorphic marshmallows.

"This will do." Eurybia nodded her satisfaction. "If all is set—"

"One more thing, auntie." Prometheus smiled. "An unbreakable oath, if you will. No good wager is complete without one."

"Are you doubting my honor, nephew?"

"And at what point did honor begin mattering to beings like us?" Prometheus asked.

Eurybia cackled. "Too true, nephew. Very well. If your boat reaches the ocean before mine, I will never purposefully sink your ships again. I swear it on the River Styx and all that."

Despite the informal delivery, the crack of thunder sealed the deal. Prometheus was satisfied.

"Lovely," he said, stepping back. "No more interruptions from me."

Eurybia teleported behind the steering wheel of her ship. For a second her head expanded to twice its regular size, just to support an inhuman grin. "Well, then. Let's race."

There was no countdown. Nobody waved a checkered flag. The cloud boat took off and we zoomed in pursuit, just behind.

"DROP THE SAILS!" Rose said through her megaphone. "SHE'LL USE THEM AGAINST US!"

She was right. A headwind had formed in front of us only, shoving our boat further behind Eurybia's. The Daemons struggled with the sails, drawing them shut. Mist hugged our boat and blinded us. Rose flicked a switch and a display flickered on to her left, our surroundings painted in red dots. Whirlpools opened in our path. For these, Rose nudged me.

"You're time to shine."

With a deep breath, I focused on the water.

I could tell we were closer to the ocean than on the ferry. The water was saltier here. I don't know if it was that or prior experience that made controlling it so much easier.

The whirlpools shattered like glass. I grabbed the currents and sped them up, faster and faster, until we burst from the fog shooting across the water as fast as when Eurybia's winds were pushing us.

We drew level with the other boat. Faceless sailors noticed us and worked faster. Eurybia looked over, frowning.

"You are doomed!" she called across.

"Doomed to win!" Rose said, whooping as we pulled into the lead.

Our boats were casting fifteen-foot wakes. A shipping barge came the other way and we split, each going around to one side as the captain laid on his booming ship's horn.

When the boats came back together we were still ahead, but Eurybia had cooked up something new.

Her crew had doubled, and half were armed. Their swords and axes were made of the same vapor as them, so I figured maybe they couldn't touch us. When are we so lucky.

They leaped across the gap like humanoid crickets, landing on our deck with very real thuds. One hacked at Destroyer and even though it missed, its weapon left a gauge in the deck. The invaders advanced.

"Waaaah," Prometheus intoned. "Save me."

I would've loved to wash the boarding party away, but keeping our path clear was taking all I had. Then an arrow pierced one at the front. It disintegrated into specks of fog.

"That's a relief." Bianca already had a second arrow notched. "They do die."

But her second shot was wide, whizzing past another's ear. They all turned toward her as one.

She laughed nervously. "Could maybe use some help though."

Before they could advance Smasher flew through, tackling one to the deck. Emmitt jumped in with a battle cry, slamming an enamel pail over the head of another. Rose hit a chain of buttons. Cannons and blades appeared from cracks and slits, blasting and piercing invaders. One cloud man was hurled overboard as a giant spring went off under its feet.

I thought we were doing pretty good. Then Eurybia snapped her fingers, and a second group materialized like it was nothing.

She cackled. "Sorry, did you think you were winning?"

"Kind of!" I admitted as the second wave joined the assault.

Rose was sweating now. On her beeping display I could see the mouth of the sound in the upper corner. We were getting close to the ocean. If we could last that long.

Our crew was starting to go down. Smasher had been knocked unconscious by his wrestling partner. Charrer was being chased around the deck. Shatterer disintegrated three wielding by harpoon like a staff, but more were on their way. It was all Emmitt and Bianca could do to protect Prometheus. An attacker got close, and Bianca was forced to block its sword with her bow shaft. The weapon split down the middle, totally broken. Bianca tossed it aside and drew her knife.

The attackers were switching focus now. Some forced their way below deck. Others sliced ropes until the sails fluttered loose. Suddenly the wind could slow us down again. Every bit of damage took us closer to sinking.

We were back to staring at Eurybia's stern. With a minute at most to go, her lead was widening.

"Have any more levers?" I asked desperately.

Rose grunted. I assumed that meant no.

Emmitt took a knock to the head and dropped. Bianca had backed Prometheus up against the gunwale, parrying desperately. Suddenly there was a bang, and the motor sputtered and died. The attackers had broken it.

Eurybia noticed us falling behind. I could tell because she enlarged her hand to the size of a car and waved goodbye.

It was over. We had lost. I think that was why I decided, screw it, let's try something crazy.

The most water I'd ever controlled was that morning, saving the ferry. A few months ago I couldn't even stop a fountain. So when I pictured a tidal wave I didn't really expect anything to happen.

At first nothing did. Then I noticed a tiny tug in my stomach, like someone had wrapped twine around my liver and given it a tug. I grabbed that string with both fists and pushed for all I was worth.

The currents propelling us cut. We weren't moving forward anymore. Rose looked over, smacking her hands on the captain's wheel. "DON'T GIVE UP!"

I didn't answer. I pushed, pushed, and pushed some more. What started as the curiosity of someone with nothing to lose had grown into fascination. Something deep inside me demanded I stretch the sensation to its limits, just to see how far it could go.

When shade covered our boat I assumed Eurybia had won. We'd lost, and now she was sending her storms to drown us.

"Holy shit," Rose said. "I don't remember my great grandfathers doing that."

Doing what? I thought. Then I looked up.

A fifty-foot wave wider than an oil tanker was barreling up the Puget Sound, blotting out the sun. Eurybia's boat had been scooped up like a toy. I thought, I made that!?

About a second later I realized something more important. It was coming for us, next.

With the last of my energy I threw out my hands. The killer wave split around our boat, Eurybia's ship sailing overhead. And I meant that in the way ships weren't supposed to sail– through the air.

The fog pirates must have needed attention to form, and Eurybia had her hands full. The raiders dissolved. Taking advantage of the peace, Rose grabbed a wrench and vaulted onto the deck.

"Steer!" she shouted up at me before disappearing down a hatch.

"Steer what?" I wondered. With the engine dead and my energy spent, we were dead in the water. But only a minute later something backfired under my feet, and the engine roared to life again.

I tried to take the helm, really I did. But my body wouldn't listen to me. It was like every ounce of my energy had drained into the wave that washed Eurybia away. My toes caught the floor and I belly-flopped on the wood.

I could hear Eurybia screaming in the distance, but getting closer. She'd gotten free and was on her way back. I wondered if even after all that we were still going to lose.

A pair of grimy combat boots appeared inches from my eyes.

"I like you better like this," Shatterer said, hands pulling the helm to orient us out to sea. "On the ground at my feet, while I save the day. One day you might be half as cool as me!"

I wanted to ask how many tsunamis he'd made today, but my mouth wouldn't work. Lying there, cheek to the cool floor, I watched Eurybia zoom after us on the horizon in a last, useless attempt as we turned between rocks and ships and chugged over the finish line into open ocean.

We'd done it, we'd won, and the last thing I heard before drifting into unconsciousness was the click of a camera.

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

Eavesdropping on My Enemies

I opened my eyes to blue skies. I sat up, looking around, and heard sea birds squawking. I was propped in a lounge chair. Shatterer was manning the helm. Nobody else was around except Prometheus, just to my left, sunbathing in orange swim trunks dotted with images of literature.

"He lives!" the titan pushed his sunglasses up, revealing cheerful gray eyes. "I was beginning to worry."

"Where are we?"

"At sea. I believe we passed Vancouver island not long ago. It's been a day since you exhausted yourself."

A day… I almost couldn't believe it. It felt like I'd only closed my eyes for a few seconds. "We beat Eurybia?"

Prometheus shut the novel he'd been reading and set it on his knee. "We did indeed. It seems tidal waves were not something Auntie anticipated. Silly of her, seeing as she knew who she was up against, but I suppose nobody's perfect."

"Shouldn't she have been on our side?" I blurted. "I mean, if she is your aunt and all…"

"Percy, I'm afraid you're going to have to define what you mean by 'our side'. Do you ask if she supports Kronos? Yes, I believe she does, though not as the most popular figure amongst the forces. She, like me, is an opportunist that only now flocks to his cause, having turned her back in the first war."

"But we're working for Kronos. Doesn't she know stopping us would mess up his plans?"

"And how would she, seeing as we never said so?"

"She could guess!" I said.

"Indeed she could. Likely, she did."

I stared at Prometheus, and he seemed to realize I was waiting for more.

"So long as she never heard it from our mouths, she holds deniability. If questioned she could claim a mistake. Nothing to stop her that way."

"So we could have just told her we were on a mission and she would've let us pass!?"

Prometheus chuckled. "Oh, no, I sincerely doubt that. She would have found some other excuse. Claimed we were trespassing on sacred territory, or alleged a grave insult of one type or another. The Olympians may present our army as a united force, but you will find the only thing we agree on is our hatred of them."

I remembered my talk with Victoria. There are a lot of groups working for the titans, and not all of them get along. It was true. You didn't need to look any further than the cloaked man that put Nera up to killing us.

"Prometheus," I said, "there's something I was wondering about."

He smiled. "Ask away, hero. Giving advice makes me feel competent."

"Say someone wanted me dead," I said. "Hypothetically. And, hypothetically, they did it by manipulating the Gold Regiment to do it for them in The Competition. Would that seem… plausible to you?"

"Hypothetically? Very."

"How would you go about catching them?"

Prometheus hummed. "I would keep alert. If they tried and failed, they will be back. And when the clues come you ought not to overlook them, even if they point in a direction uncomfortably close."

"Huh? What does that mea–"

"Percy!" Somebody tackled me from behind. I slid off the chair, tumbled, and found myself looking up at grinning Emmitt. "You're awake!"

"Have a nice sleep?" Bianca asked, standing next to the chair I'd fallen from.

I flexed my fingers. The joints ached. My ears still felt stuffed with cotton. From the calves to the shoulders my muscles were throbbing like I was twenty-four hours past the most brutal full-body workout since Hercules strangling the Nemean Lion. "I feel like crap."

Bianca nodded. "I was the same after The Competition. You don't even want to move."

"Overuse of divine powers will have that effect," Prometheus said. "Impressive as it was, I imagine that wave was close to your limits, Percy."

I wasn't about to argue. It still didn't seem like something I'd actually done, more like a scene I'd dreamed afterwards.

Prometheus nodded. "Your tolerance may increase as you learn how to manage these things, but there is only so much a mortal body can take. That is why it's wise, when possible, to rely on weapons. Those do not run out."

Bianca snorted. "Tell that to this thing."

She held up her bow… what was left of it. The shaft was in two parts, dangling by the bowstring like unwieldy nunchucks.

"Why are you still carrying that around?" I asked.

"Because I'm sad! How would you feel if your sword got chopped in half?"

"No chance," I said. "It's too sturdy to break."

"One more word about my bow and we'll see about that!"

Emmitt leaned forward, looking at the bow. "Maybe it can be fixed?"

The cut was clean; all the way through. Slivers and splinters were missing where the jagged handle parts used to connect. The string whined supporting the swaying pieces, ready to give out at a strong wind.

"I don't think duct tape is enough for that," I said.

"Superglue?" suggested Prometheus.

Bianca looped the broken bow over her shoulder. "Can you all find something new to talk about already? You're making me mad all over again."

I took pity, and definitely not because she looked ready to stomp my stomach if I didn't.

"When'll we reach Alaska?" I asked. I knew exactly where we were– 52.8 degrees North, 156 degrees West. Which told me… exactly nothing without a map and someone to do the math.

The others traded looks.

"It would be another three days," Emmitt said.

"I sense a but coming."

"Buuttt," Bianca said, "there's–"

Before she could finish something below deck rocked the boat. Black smoke wafted into sight. Somewhere down below I heard a voice cursing– Rose's.

Bianca smiled sarcastically. "Well, that was perfectly timed. There's that."

She pointed to the black smoke. Out of sight, something heavy started cranking, punctuated by more curses.

"I'm afraid the ship did not escape damage," Prometheus said. "As is, we've not long before the engine fails. We've also begun taking on water. The Daemons are below deck bailing the excess."

"What about the sails?" I asked. "Can't we use those?"

"Haven't you noticed?" Bianca said.

I looked around. The masthead was frowning out over the water in front of us. There were still slices in the deck from Eurybia's henchman. Salt was on the still air and waves lapped our sides.

Wait a minute. Still air?

"There's no wind."

"And there hasn't been," Emmitt groaned.

Prometheus tapped the sunbaked leather of his seat. "My fault I'm afraid. I wasn't so specific as I ought to have been in wording Auntie's promise. Eurybia may've agreed not to sink us, but she never said a thing about stealing our headwinds."

"Rose is guessing it'll take four days to get there," Bianca said. "And that's not including the stop for repairs."

"Stop? Stop where?"

She pointed to the horizon. It wasn't more than a dark blob, but I could see land far off the starboard bow.

"Graham Island," Prometheus said. "Our next, unplanned, stop."

After Seattle Graham Island felt like the wilderness. Or it might've had nothing to do with where we were coming from. It was just that small.

There wasn't even a downtown. Most of the buildings were houses with moss blanketing the roofs, wedged into gaps in the forest. I spotted a sign on shore announcing the scattered buildings as Masset, British Colombia. Population: 183.

"We're looking for a mechanic here?" Bianca asked.

The door to below deck swung open. Rose marched out, oily rags tucked in her belt and soot along her arms. Her boots squeaked. However fast the Daemons were bailing water down there, it wasn't faster than it was coming in.

"If we did need a mechanic we'd be in trouble," she said. "Luckily, we've got the best one this side of the world. Me."

"What're we stopping for then?" I asked.

Rose got halfway to answering before she realized who'd asked the question. Without a word she marched over and gave my shoulder a palm-strike of a pat on the back. "Percy! Next time you spit out a tsunami, warn me. You have no idea how badly I wanted to catch that thing on camera."

"Did you get one of Eurybia?" I asked.

"Need you ask?" She rubbed her hand on a rag and pulled a picture out of the back pocket of her jeans. On it Eurybia leaned over the prow of her boat, glaring into the camera mid-scream. I could practically hear the photo. After I'd looked at it a second Rose tucked it delicately back in the pocket.

"Got to keep it out of the sunlight," she explained. "This thing'll be in my family as long as Great Grandaddy Argus's model if I have my way. Anyway, we're stopping because, well, have you ever tried fixing a ship on the open ocean? It's a headache. Better to knock all the repairs out in one go. Shouldn't take more than an afternoon."

We were angling into the Masset port now, two long docks with only one dinky rowboat bobbing between them. The ocean in front of us narrowed into a thin inlet like a river. The water sliced through the center of the town, bisecting it like Bianca's broken bow.

I could only see two people– a grandma fishing on the beach and a woman in rubber overalls working with crab cages at the tip of the dock. I watched the grandma reel in as we floated by, dragging the line too quick for even the fastest fishes to bite. When she pulled her hook above water I could just make out the metal shape… and nothing else. No bait, no lure.

"Curses!" she shouted. "Damn these aquatic vermin!"

As the Daemons came on deck and moored the boat the crab cage woman left her work and ambled over.

"Tourists?" she asked. "We don't get many of those."

Rose leaned over the gunwale. "Our ship's damaged. We need to dock for repairs."

"Oh." The woman wiped her gloves on her sides. "Makes more sense. Well, we have space."

"Thanks," I said.

I only said it because it seemed like good manners, but boy did it get her attention. She stared at me, silently, for a full ten seconds, before scanning the rest of our crew.

"We have a hotel in town," she said. "You all should stay the night. Plenty of open rooms."

"Thanks," Rose said, "but we have space on board. A dock is all we need."

But Bianca wasn't having it. "What's the harm in a break from bouncing up and down as we try to sleep? We're already here."

Rose drew a wrench and screwdriver, already moving back to the door downstairs. "Eh, if you're paying, go for it. But I'll sleep better on the water– if I have time to sleep tonight at all."

"How much is a room?" I asked the local.

She screwed her face up in thought. "It was… five dollars? Or was it fifty? Very cheap."

It sounded like an okay deal to me. We had enough money from what we'd packed, even after Emmitt's share turned into kindling. If we were going to be on The Nautes for the next four nights, a change of scenery couldn't hurt.

"Sure," I said. "Why not."

The lady nodded. "Excellent. I will guide you."

She strode down the dock. Prometheus stayed put, but Shatterer and Charrer joined Bianca, Emmitt and me in hurrying after her.

"The ship is enough for me," Prometheus called after us. "Unless they have a hot tub, in which case please come get me. I could do with a soak."

I gave him a thumbs up.

Following the woman, she led us down the dock and up a flight of rusted metal stairs onto what I guess passed as the main street. It was one lane either direction, paralleled the ocean, and every driveway in sight branched off from it. To the left, three businesses were clustered– a diner with a sign so weatherbeaten you couldn't read the name, a gas station with one out-of-order pump, and a two-story motel. The motel's front sign called it the Pines Lodge. The 'No' part of the No Vacancies sign was lit up, but someone had painted letters behind it to read Nothing but Vacancies.

"Don't get much business I guess," I said.

The woman waved to a lady in the diner as we passed, the only person inside. From behind the counter, the lady waved back. That was the first person I'd seen away from the dock.

"Only a few," our guide said, stopping before the motel's front door.

"Thanks for the help," I said.

"Mm," she replied, and ambled the way she came.

The lobby smelled like mildew. Strips of wallpaper were peeling in the corners. But the carpets were vacuumed, the front desk was dusted, and the girl working looked so excited to see us it felt cruel to even think about heading back to the boat.

"Guests!" she only looked a little older than me. A nametag on her shirt called her Chloe. "How many? Four? How long are you staying? We can get you a room. We could get each of you a room if you wanted–"

"Three is enough," I said.

"One night only," Bianca added. "We won't be in town long."

Chloe's mood was too bright for to be doused. "Two rooms! Amazing! If I can just get your names…"

We paid, got our keys, and found our rooms on the second floor. It wasn't hard. There were only ten rooms total.

Inside all of them had two beds, a fold-out couch, and space along the floor. The TVs looked like they were invented around Daedalus's first birthday, blocky cubes that I was surprised even had color.

By the time we'd checked the rooms out the sun was starting to droop. I thought that was a little crazy because it wasn't even late before I remembered where we were. Canada in December, of course it was going to get dark early. Which made me realize something else. We really were getting close to Alaska.

Gathered on the walkway, somebody's stomach grumbled.

"Anybody feel like trying that diner?" I asked.

Nobody jumped at the idea. I guess they didn't trust the cooking of a place that couldn't even keep its name visible.

"Dinner on the boat it is, I guess."

The upside of a town this small? Its pretty hard to get lost. Finding our way back was a piece of cake, guide or no.

After we'd eaten, Rose grabbed me. Literally.

"Help me a minute," she said, dragging me toward the bottom part of the boat. "We have to get rid of the water we took on."

Boy, was that minute part a lie. By the time we'd cleared the boat of puddles I felt as tired as after spitting out a tidal wave, minus the passing out part. That waited until I'd stumbled through the dark streets to the motel.

Emmitt and I were sharing a room with Charrer and Crudebake. The Daemons were two to a bed, passed out by the time I got there. Emmitt was sleeping on the couch. I plopped face-first onto the open bed.

The dream started before the springs had stopped squeaking.

It was still nighttime, and I was perched on the ledge of a skyscraper. Far below orange and yellow lights made up inner city traffic. Chatter and horns echoed off the buildings. Past the rooftops, a dark expanse loomed with occasional lights dotting opposite shore— the Puget Sound. My spirit was back in Seattle.

The rooftop itself was cramped, a fenced-in stretch of concrete no bigger than Rose's living room. A stairwell door loomed on the opposite side from me, and knelt in its shadow was the scrawny kid from the Coast Starlight train. Just like I'd guessed, he wasn't roasted at all. Not even toasted.

"This is the place?" he asked.

I frowned. When a voice I couldn't see a body for answered, I frowned harder.

"The location does not matter, young master. Privacy is all that's required."

"You still haven't told me who this guy is. I don't like this."

"He can be trusted," soothed the voice.

"You keep avoiding the question. I can make you answer if I have to."

"Of course you can. You are very powerful, young master, and deserve great respect. That is why I trust you to think rationally on this. Did he or did he not tell us the party would be on the train?"

The kid didn't answer. The voice pressed on.

"And were they there? They were! You were so close to taking my— our, revenge. If that primate had not butted his oversized nose in, our mission would already be complete. Trust, young master. Trust in me."

There was a moment of quiet. In the dark I couldn't read his expression, but the kid was obviously thinking it over. "Okay," he said finally.

Rooted there, I realized two things. First, I knew why the kid seemed familiar on the train. I'd seen him before, just not in person. Before meeting Luke I'd dreamt a scene a lot like this one, but with less of a drop and more of a stench. He'd been huddled at a gas station talking to a voice, this voice, the voice without a body.

The second thing I realized? I wasn't the only spectator.

What looked like a black possessed bedsheet had materialized, perched above the roof's only door. Two long legs dangled over the edge. I could almost see the bottom of a torso connected to them, but the rest was obscured by a flapping cloak. Under the hood was only dark space. My stomach clenched.

The Cloaked Man…

"Touching," it warbled in a synthesized male voice. "Companionship is admirable in this world."

Emo kid rose to his feet, making himself taller. Or preparing to run. It was hard to tell. "You're here. Tell us what you know."

"Demanding. That's no way to speak to a business partner."

"I don't need you," said Emo Kid.

"That isn't true," the Cloaked Man said, "and we both know it. Don't you want to save your sister? Trapped, controlled against her will. Why, she's waiting desperately for you!"

"Shut up. I'll kill you."

"Calm yourself, young master," the disembodied voice soothed. "Don't let your manners ruin this chance."

The cloaked man pushed off, landing silently without bending his knees. "The one that won't show himself speaks of manners. If you were to ask me, you are the rude one."

"Very well," the voice answered after a beat. "If it should be so important to you, here."

At first I thought a cloud had formed. We were high enough up for it. But then the mist condensed into a translucent man.

"More to your liking?" he asked.

"Much! Why, Ghost King, you almost look half alive."

The ghost scowled. Before he could answer, Emo Kid said, "Enough. Tell us where they are."

"Ah, as you wish. Head to Alaska within the next four days and you will cut them off. Do hurry, though. I'd hate to see another tip go to waste."

Emo Kid gripped his sword, digging the tip into the ground. "It won't."

"Please make sure of it. You have already ruined things once, so–"

"It won't," Emo Kid repeated, and this time the night around him came alive. Waves like hundred-degree heat off asphalt radiated through the shadows. The only darkness that didn't seem affected was the sliver obscuring the Cloaked Man's face.

"See that you don't," said the man, before my whole view wobbled like the shadows and became something new.

I was in a car on a road that scythed through rows of endless corn. There were no hills. If it weren't for the cars coming the other way, I wouldn't have been able to tell we were moving.

The driver, a sharply-dressed older woman with a handkerchief tucked in her black suit's breast pocket, looked over her shoulder. "We've entered Nebraska. Notify me when you must relieve yourselves."

I couldn't move my body but I could turn my neck. In the backseat, each looking out one window, was a boy and girl. Siblings, if the dark hair was anything to go by, although most of the girl's was hidden under a green beanie. That hat was pulled as low as it could be, and she was looking down as she mumbled, "Alright."

"Hey." The boy bounced in his seat. "Did you know Demeter's attack power goes up by five when played together with a crops card? She'd be so effective here!"

"Nico, don't babble," scolded the girl. " You'll annoy people."

But the driver seemed interested. "Is that higher than Hades'?"

Nico shook his head. "Hades has a natural eight– even better depending on the size of your graveyard. Oh, but Demeter has higher defense!"

The driver scowled. "Preposterous! She could not even protect her own daughter!"

"She lost a point of Wisdom after that," Nico said forlornly.

"Hey," said the girl, "how much longer will we have to drive for?"

The driver whipped around a semi-truck, nails digging into the leather steering wheel like claws. She looked familiar, but I was certain I'd never seen her before. It was as if I was staring at a face from my memories with the features tweaked, like two paintings by the same artist.

"Two days," she said."Two days and then you dears will be all settled in. Westover has rooms ready for you. You will survive there."

"You mean 'live there', right?" the girl asked.

The driver snapped her fingers. "That, too."

As the car quieted down the scene dissolved. I was back in bed with a mouthful of pillow. It tasted a bit like bitter paper, and I didn't waste time rolling over.

As far as demigod dreams went the second one had been tame. And yet it hit me harder than the rooftop planning session on how to murder me and my friends.

I knew those people. The driver, I was guessing, was Mrs. Schmeltzer, the lawyer that drove Bianca cross-country to boarding school. Because that was who was in the backseat. No amount of shy posture and oversized hats could make me mistake Bianca's face.

And her brother Nico? I knew him, too. He'd tried to kill me, looking a whole lot more haggard. There wasn't a speck of doubt in my head.

Emo Kid was Bianca's dead brother.

Charrer was snoring and my head was spinning, so I stumbled to the door. I didn't know what time it was, but I could tell I wasn't getting back to sleep for a while. Better to take a walk and clear my head.

The minute I stepped outside I wished I'd brought a jacket. I was about to duck back in and grab one before I realized I hadn't brought any. Everything heavier than a t-shirt was back on board The Nautes… a really dumb mistake, now that I thought about it.

I thought maybe I'd take a dip to warm up and headed for the ocean. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but water never really felt cold for me unless I let it.

When I arrived wind was raking the beach, dragging up soggy sand in waves. It was high tide. The ocean washed way higher up the beach, halfway to where the road ran. I was North of the dock, and the beach here was separated from the town by a slope of slippery-looking rock piles. I didn't feel like spraining an ankle messing around, so I paralleled the beach looking for a path down.

In a way the wind stinging my arms was nice. It made me feel sort of like a kite, and imagined myself floating above my worries for a pegasus-eye view. And boy did I need it, because trying to sift through everything was making my head spin.

The Cloaked Man tried to get Nera to kill us, and now he was trying to get Nico to do it, Nico who was Bianca's brother, Bianca's brother that was supposed to be dead, who wasn't dead but instead had some creepy ghost following him, some creepy ghost who–

"Aah!" I shouted, jamming my hands through my hair. "It's too complicated!"

Somebody yelped. On a bench not far up the road positioned out toward sea, a figure twisted around so fast they fell off.

I jogged over. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to scare– Emmitt?"

Emmitt rubbed the back of his head. There were slight bags under his eyes. His hair, blowing fifty different directions in the wind, made him look like a stray puppy in need of grooming

"–Percy?" he said. "Why're you out here?"

"Why're you?"

He played with the zipper on his borrowed jacket. "Couldn't sleep."

"Dreams?"

"Yeah."

I took a seat on the bench, patting the spot next to me. "Same. Tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Emmitt picked himself off the ground, knocked stray sand off his butt, and sat down. "I dreamed I was back at Camp," he said.

"You were at Camp Half-Blood?"

"Mhm." Emmitt took his zipper in two fingers, tapping it rhythmically against the cold bench. "I wasn't there long. Two summers."

"Didn't like it much?" I guessed.

He blinked. "What, cause I left?"

"Well, and the fact you're fighting for the people trying to wipe it off the map."

"Oh, I guess so. I never really thought of it like that. I just wanted to make a name for myself."

A particularly wild wave broke, spraying the beach with water. The wind seemed like it was getting faster. It howled through the woods further inland, making the trees squawk.

"Couldn't you have done that at Camp?" I asked.

"No." I was surprised by how sure he sounded. "Unless you're a kid of Ares or Athena or Hephaestus or something they barely let you do anything, even in Capture the Flag. They just assume you can't fight."

"But you can't fight."

"Well, yeah. I'm not saying they're wrong. But it's the principle of the matter!" He crossed his arms, staring out to sea. "There are kids at camp that have switched sides. Not all of them left. Some stuck around so they can look out for half-bloods that seem upset and recruit them. The one that got to me was really nice. He didn't insult me, and he only lied a little bit."

Spying wasn't a side to the war that I'd really thought about, but it made sense. It had to be almost impossible to find them out when everyone was a half-blood. I wondered if there were any on our side, funneling information back to New York. Maybe the Cloaked Man was a spy?

But that didn't make sense. If he knew where our group was he had to be high up, and I couldn't see any titans playing traitor. Besides, that reminded me it was my turn.

I told Emmitt about my first dream, but not the second. I figured Bianca deserved to know that one before anybody else.

When I was done Emmitt looked a little paler. He could've just been cold, though. It really was freezing.

"So somebody's trying to kill us and they know where we are?" he asked. "Why aren't you freaking out?"

"I'm here because I couldn't sleep, remember? But anyway, don't worry too much about it. We survived once already. And yesterday, we faced down a goddess! It'll be fine."

I wished I could actually be that confident, but telling him how worried I was would only make things worse. Besides, it seemed like there was something on his mind. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times like a fish. Finally, he made up his mind. "Percy… am I useful?"

The question came so out of left field that I said, "What?"

He squeezed his knee. "It's just, I've been thinking. I want to be a hero, I always have. Someone that flies in and saves the day, fighting off bad guys and saving people."

I imagined Hercules swooping out of the air and clocking a hydra in the face before zooming away.

"There's more than one way to be a hero," I said.

Emmitt shook his head morosely. "And I'm none of them. I was so excited when you picked me for The Feat. I thought it was my chance! But what have I done since then? I almost got eaten less than an hour in. On the train I managed to blow up all my stuff, and almost us with it. And yesterday, on the boat, even Shatterer did more than me! I just got knocked out."

"We couldn't have won The Competition without you," I said. "Remember when the Iron Regiment was spying on us? You caught them."

He didn't look convinced. I wracked my brain, feeling like I was on some gameshow with a huge counter beeping down above my head. There had to be something to prove my point, something to cheer him up…

Then it came to me.

"On the first day," I said, "you knew what a Leukrokotta was. And on the train you knew who exactly who those weird monsters were. How'd you do that?"

"But that's nothing," he said. "I just read about them."

"Are you kidding? Daedalus made me study till my eyes were peeling, and I still only know the basics. Don't all those weird names just make your head spin?"

The praise made Emmitt blush, but he still wasn't moved. "It's not amazing," he insisted, "It's only studying. Heroes can all fight, like Achilles or Hercules. You've seen me try."

"What about Odysseus? You think he could've done everything he did just by being tough?"

"I thought you didn't know myths."

"I said I had the basics, remember? Daedalus would've skinned me if I didn't get that much. Besides, you don't have to look a million years back to see it's true. I knew a girl that saved Luke and me without even fighting, just by watching what the monster was doing. She figured out its weakness. We never would've beaten it without that."

I didn't mention that I was the one that actually finished Lamia off. It only would've ruined my example, and without Annabeth I never would've known what to aim for, so it wasn't like I was lying.

"Just from watching?" Emmitt asked.

"Just from watching."

"Where is she now?"

I watched the water. It was like after the Daemons reminded me of Thalia, memories had come unstuck. Hitchhiking trips and campfire meals that usually barely crossed my mind I was starting to think of more and more.

"No idea," I said. "But I think I'd like to know."

We shivered in silence for a couple seconds. Finally he asked, "You really mean it?"

"I wouldn't lie about this," I said. "Being a hero doesn't just mean fighting, and being useful is more than charging headfirst. Just do what you can, man. You'll do great."

I'd love to say his mood did a full 180 and he was back to his bouncy self, but Professor Percy's counseling wasn't that impressive. I guess that's why I don't have my license. Still, he seemed slightly less gloomy. When he stood up off the bench, he almost cracked a smile. "I'm going back inside. I'm really cold."

I grinned, showing off my chattering teeth. "Let's get out of here."

As we walked back into town I realized I still hadn't seen a single person. That wasn't too crazy considering it was the middle of the night, but I thought someone would be around at least. A fisherman getting ready for dawn or somebody with a night shift or something.

Around when we passed the diner Emmitt said, "Hey, Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I mean it."

"No problem," I said. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like he was holding his head a little higher with every step.

By the time we climbed the caste-iron staircase and saw our room's doorway, I was ready to bury myself in blankets and catch whatever sleep I could. I didn't bother trying to come in quietly– grabbing the handle, I shoved the door open and hurried right in.

I froze. The lights were on. In more pressing concerns, the Daemons weren't alone… and boy had they seen better days.

Charrer had a black eye. Crudebake had a cut on his forehead. Both of them were trussed up in thick cables and gagged with rags. Standing above Charrer, still finishing the knot behind his back, was the woman that guided us to the hotel in the first place. On either side of her were four more women including Chloe, the girl that checked us in.

"Score!" said Chloe. "They didn't get away!"

Emmitt and I traded looks. I shoved the door back open and we jumped out, only to see five more women strolling up the stairs. Unless we felt like vaulting twenty feet onto half-frozen asphalt, we were trapped.

Back in the room, the woman in the center finished the knot, Charrer groaning as she drew it tight.

"Perfect," she said, and gazed straight out at us. "Two more to go."

I drew Aelia. Somehow, I didn't think I would be getting that blanket cocoon I wanted. So I did the thing I just told Emmitt not to bother with.

I charged.

(-)

Chapter Text

Chapter 37

Housewives Show us Their Dungeon

There’re a lot of ways people can react to getting charged with a deadly weapon. Usually, they boil down to running away or fighting back. Not so common was how the women reacted.

They did nothing.

I sprinted in close and sliced above Charrer’s head, just high enough not to give him a haircut. My sword whizzed through the air at the woman behind him…

I stopped at the last second. Something didn’t feel right. 

“Good instincts,” the woman said, completely unbothered. “That would be a mistake.”

I held my blade against the side of her neck. “Let our friends go. Or else.”

She sighed. Instead of releasing Charrer she tried to grab my neck. I went to backhand her arm away, but my metal hand passed right through.

My eyes widened. The shock didn’t last, though. I’d dealt with mortal opponents before. Without stopping to ask questions I twisted, punching her temple with my sword hand. Anthea’s hilt acted like a roll of coins in my palm and a loud SMACK! filled the room. 

The woman’s head snapped sideways. Great job, Percy, for thinking on your feet! Except something weird happened. 

She had brown eyes. Emphasis on ‘had’ because for a second they changed, melting into blue. Her mouth dropped open. She started hyperventilating. “Wh-Where am I? Who are you people? I was just… I was just…”

Her chin drooped like she’d fallen asleep standing. When she looked up, her eyes were back to brown. All traces of fear had disappeared.

Behind me, Emmitt gasped. “Spirits!” he said. “You’re possessing mortals!”

The woman I’d hit pressed on her jaw, feeling the damage. “Well, yes, glad we’ve cleared that up. Hurting us will only damage the poor, guiltless mortals we’ve possessed. I’m sure you heroes would hate to do that. Give up now and save us the trouble, hm? I want to be checking my crab cages by dawn.”

“Mmmm,” one of the women moaned. “Crab sounds delicious.”

Another smacked her. “Don’t get your hopes up, idiot!”

The spirits had one thing wrong. I could hurt them. They might be immune to celestial bronze, but Anfisa was made from more than just that. Problem was, I would still be stabbing a bystander. How were you supposed to beat enemies you couldn’t fight?

“Why are you possessing mortals?” I asked, hoping to buy time. “Aren’t you embarrassed, getting them caught up in all this?”

The one I’d hit, our guide from the dock, seemed like the leader. All the others waited for her to answer.

“We were mortals once,” she said, shrugging. “I’m sure they don’t mind. The last ones never did.”

“Been doing this for a while?”

“Oh, a thousand years or two.”

“I bet you’ve got some great stories.”

“We do have a few,” she admitted. “To start, hmm… how about how nobody from your boat will be coming for you?”

I flinched, and she noticed.

“So that was your plan. Give up. We were in need of new vessels anyway. By now, your friends are being put to much better use.”

The circle was closing. None of them had real weapons, but a few were wielding rolling pins that they looked like they knew how to use. 

“Look,” I said. “I don’t know what kind of creepy stuff you do out here, but our schedule is pretty full, so we aren’t really interested in being ‘vessels’ anytime soon.”

All at once the women’s faces went disgusted. One started gagging.

“You? A vessel?” The leader dug into her waterproof leggings, pulling out a ball-peen hammer before waving it menacingly. “As if an honor like that would be bestowed on such as you. You will never be a vessel.”