Chapter Text
JUNE 22
2010
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
Max had been having a rotten day even before she had seen the bus-sized dog.
First, she had woken up at, like, 5 AM after having weird nightmares about huge snake-dudes again. That, sadly, wasn’t too unusual. She’d been having weird nightmares for almost exactly two years now, although their contents had suddenly changed about ten months ago after a particularly surreal dream where a rude ghost tossed a knife at her.
Everything had also gotten a lot more… weird around her at that time. She still had no idea how the bronzish dagger from that strange dream actually appeared on her nightstand. She tried to avoid thinking about any of that stuff too much. Acknowledging the weird shit happening around her would probably be feeding into delusion or something.
Besides, dreams weren’t the issue at hand that morning. What was more annoying than the visions of giants with dragon feet was the fact that she couldn’t fall asleep again afterwards. After tossing and turning for a couple hours, she thought fuck it and got up, showering to get rid of the teenage funk and washing her face with about a bajillion different soaps to try and get rid of the two dozen or so zits that kept cropping up on her oily-ass face. She swore that the soaps just made more pimples appear, and the whole acne-industrial complex was a charade, but they were what the doctor ordered. Literally, in some cases.
After scraping off as much grossness as possible and cramming herself into some slightly-too-small jeans and a tee, she was finally ready to brave the world outside her room… only for her mom to start scolding her. Apparently, some kid her age had managed to cure cancer or something and now she was in trouble for not being the next Albert Einstein. Max just nodded and avoided eye contact until she could finally escape the house with her camera in tow, only to immediately realize she had left her phone inside. It barely worked despite being new—no she wasn’t just irresponsible, mom, she hadn’t dropped it or anything!—and she really didn’t want to exist in her mother’s line of sight again so soon, so she just walked downtown. After almost getting taken out by a skateboarder (who cussed at her like it was Max’s fault she wasn’t looking where she was boarding), Max slipped into her favorite cafe, got an espresso, and watched the street.
As she sipped, she felt her spirits lift. It was just so peaceful in the cafe, and the coffee was so damn good. She relaxed and let the time trickle by. It was funny—people always said ‘time flies when you’re having fun,’ but she had always experienced the opposite. The more she enjoyed something, the longer it seemed to linger. Probably just a quirk of her psychology, but it was nice to have something going for her.
Against her will, she felt glimmers of optimism building. It had been a shitty morning so far, but the day was still new. Yeah, she was still having weird nightmares and her mom was still mad at her for not applying herself harder in school, but she had her camera and a can-do attitude. She was gonna head out to the docks, snap some awesome photos, and keep building her portfolio.
At least, that's what she had been thinking before she stepped out of the cafe to see a truly massive dog a few blocks away staring right. At. Her.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” she whispered to herself before turning to look away from the impossible creature. She could feel herself starting to panic, but if there was one thing she had learned since last September, the best thing to do when she noticed something supernatural was to pretend she hadn’t.
Otherwise, it might notice her back.
Max jerkily started walking away from the hound. Fortunately, this was in the direction of the docks. If the beast was between her and her goal she would’ve had to get real creative in avoiding it. Ugh, she still needed to get a picture of the creature. Documenting all of the insane things she had seen was becoming a bit of an obsession, but the only way she could feel sane seeing things no one else could was by knowing that her Polaroid could also see them.
Taking some deep breaths, she reached into her satchel and opened her camera before casually turning partway around, bringing the camera up to snap a picture – and almost dropped her precious Sun 660 as she flinched.
The dog had definitely not been directly in front of the cafe when Max had walked out. How had something so huge moved an entire block without Max hearing it? She held her camera with shaking hands and focused on the beast. Her heart raced as she sighted and snapped the photo, hurriedly collecting it and turning back away down the street, setting a hot pace. She normally looked at the photos as soon as she could, so she could confirm that whatever she had seen wasn’t a hallucination, but for once she felt something besides crippling doubt.
Raw, knee-weakening fear.
Max risked a glance over her shoulder and almost tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. God, it had definitely noticed her. The stalking tread and bared fangs dripping saliva made that clear. As Max wove through the midmorning crowd she wondered, not for the first time, how the fuck no one else could see all of the weird shit happening around town since around her 14th birthday. People just walked around the legs of the sphinx by the library, or waited in line behind a woman with snake legs, or shooed a girl with feathers like they would a pigeon. In return for being ignored, the monsters ignored everyone else, which is how Max got the idea of pretending they didn’t exist in the first place.
Another glance back and Max started shaking. The dog was way too fucking close for comfort, barely a block away. Its red eyes bored into her. Pretending she couldn’t see it was not working this time. Max felt faint. Was she about to die?
The dog barked, an earsplitting sound like a cannon shot, and Max couldn’t take it anymore. She broke into a sprint, weaving around startled pedestrians and trees. Another artillery-grade bark made Max’s ears ring as she madly dashed, to where she didn’t know. Part of her wanted to duck into a building, but some animal instinct rebelled at that idea. Terror of being trapped like a rat.
Although Max couldn’t really look back without slamming into someone or faceplanting, running seemed to be working. The sounds of people shouting, trees getting knocked around, and pounding paws were still following, sure, but they were more or less staying at a constant distance.
The only problem was that Max was just prolonging the inevitable. She had nothing. No plan, no tools, and no goddamn stamina. Her chest was already burning and her legs ached. If she made it out of this, she was never putting half effort into gym class again.
“Whoa, hey!”
Max’s eyes snapped up, looking past her immediate obstacles to see a trio of kids wearing purple shirts and carrying… swords? She made eye contact with the one who shouted, a short girl with dark skin and curly hair. Something about her voice had given Max pause, a note of fear and urgency that didn’t match the vague annoyance of everyone else’s cries.
“I see her! Frank–”
The second tallest one shouted, but Max didn’t have time to look at him. Her arm clipped a bike rack and she stumbled. Hard. She tried to recover but her lack of athleticness came back to bite her as she took a spill. Max frantically rolled onto her back to see the bounding hound approaching, drool splattering the sidewalk.
Max panicked, shoving her arm out as though it could stop the beast, screaming.
And time slowed down.
Everything was dull and muted, like she was trapped in honey. Seriously, right now? She thought. I get to experience getting eaten in slow-mo?
Max struggled to her feet and stepped back as the dog moved impossibly slow, as though the air was molasses. This wasn’t the first time she had experienced time weirdly in a dangerous situation, but this wasn’t a car where she could just move to get out of its way. It didn’t matter if her usually god-awful reactions were suddenly so incredible that it felt like the rest of the world was trapped in amber, she had nothing. She was nothing.
And then the first gold-tipped arrow flew lazily past her and into the hound’s eye.
As if by magic, Max’s reflexes went back to normal (well, back to being awful, which was normal for her) and time seemed to resume its course. The shaggy black monster yelped in pain as one of its red headlights went out, but it still finished its bound and pounced at her.
Someone was screaming. It was probably Max, but she couldn’t be certain. Pain was all she could be sure of as the massive weight of the beast slammed her into the ground. Something cracked. Actually, somethings cracked. Max coughed up blood. It mixed with the dog’s drool.
It growled and Max weakly tried to lift her arms, desperate to put something between her face and those fangs. They wouldn’t listen, so she gave up. It was almost relaxing, really. To let go and sit back as certain death met you head on.
An arc of glowing bronze ended that thought, cleaving through l’appel du vide and monster hide alike. One of the purple-shirted teens from earlier stepped over her, swinging his sword and driving the shadows back. A hand suddenly found her cheek and pulled her head to the side.
“Mfere ee dis”
Golden eyes stared at her with fear and concern. Max dimly realized that the girl was very pretty, with stunning eyes and coffee coloured skin. Sadly, Max also realized that she had no idea what the unknown girl had said.
“Huh?”
The girl took Max’s open mouth as an opportunity to shove something in. She almost spat it out, but…
That taste.
It tasted like cookies fresh out of the oven. But not just any cookies, like the ones that Chloe and her had made before everything went bad. They were too salty, had clumps of unmixed baking soda, and they were absolutely perfect. Max chewed and swallowed.
“Wha–” she coughed a little, but this time it wasn’t bloody. “What was that?”
“Ambrosia. Uhm, food from the table of the gods. Too much will make a demigod burn up, but just a little is healing.” Her voice was soothing, with an accent Max couldn’t immediately place. Somewhere southern, maybe?
“Ambrosia?”
“Ambrosia.” The girl nodded as though that explained everything she had just said.
Max tried to sit up, and to her surprise she actually could—albeit with a little help from her new friend. She didn’t sound quite like Joyce, but her voice still soothed her. The stocky one with the bow was pacing around them protectively, head on a swivel. “What— what do you mean from the table of God? And who are you people? And why is no one reacting to anything?!”
Max felt the girl wince. She dragged some breath through her teeth before speaking. “Ah, well, uhm. I said table of the gods, not… uh, anyways. I’m Hazel,” Hazel pointed at the archer, “that’s Frank.”
“Wha— oh. Introductions.” Frank had whipped around when Hazel said his name, bow at the ready, only to relax a second later. He was a lot less intimidating up close. As much as his brawn screamed ‘high school bully’ he looked sweet and… well… he had a helluva babyface.
Hazel continued as Frank stowed his bow, “and that’s… uh… Percy. You good, Percy?”
The last of the trio turned his gaze on Max, and she really wished that he hadn’t. Where Frank had been intimidating from afar and teddy bearish up close, Percy went from ‘nondescript’ to ‘terrifying’ as he approached. She saw now that a lock of his hair was gray, like one segment of scalp was older than the rest of him, and his face had a lean, lupine quality. His eyes bored into Max, pupils dilated to an inhuman degree.
“He’s here.”
“What? Who’s here?”
Percy ignored Frank, instead flicking his head around again, his glowing bronze sword flicking through different positions. He was like a panther that Max had seen at the zoo once, walking back and forth, lashing its tail.
Said panther had tried to attack a tourist through the wire mesh a heartbeat later.
“He’s here. Or he was here! He—nothing else feels like that. He’s supposed to be dead!”
“Percy,” Hazel stood, bringing Max with her. Shockingly, she felt… okay. Not like she had just been given the hammer and anvil treatment by a massive hound and the sidewalk. “Who is here? Are you remembering something?”
“I—” Percy suddenly turned green and doubled over. Frank swore in—what language was that? Latin?—and caught him.
Percy sat down with Frank’s help, shaking. “I— yeah. I remember… golden light and… a scythe… but… gods it hurts.”
Frank tended to Percy as Hazel released Max. She took an unsteady step, then a more confident one. She shook her head, trying to clear all of the insanity from it. “I— I don’t understand. Who are you guys? What—what was that thing? Why did it try to kill me?” Max whirled around as a horrible thought occurred to her. “Is it still out there? Did it run away?”
“Easy, easy there.” Hazel spoke to Max in a soothing tone which, frustratingly enough, worked. “We… uhm… we’re like you. You know how you could see the hellhound? Not everyone can do that. Only people like us. Demigods.”
Max made a very intelligent noise in the back of her throat.
“I know,” Hazel chuckled, laying an anchoring hand on Max’s shoulder, “it’s… a lot. Unbelievable, really, but uhm… have you ever noticed weird things happening to you? Or seeing stuff that no one else can?”
Max thought back over the past two years. All of the weird nightmares, a voice she didn't know who called himself her father and knew way too much about her, talking about a war and big plans. The dream she had—if it even was a dream, which she was starting to question—of a ghost, lips cracked and bleeding and skin blackened and charred, standing in her room. The weird stuff he said and the dagger he left behind… and then everything that came after that.
“I… I’ve been having dreams for the past two years… and I’ve been taking pictures of… all the weird things I’ve seen over the past year.”
Max fished around in her bag and showed Hazel the Polaroid she had taken of the hellhound. Hazel’s eyes widened. “Huh, I’ve never heard of someone being able to take pictures of monsters before! Usually they mess up film. Interesting that you can…” Hazel looked up, smiling gently. “But yeah, besides the photos—which are cool—everything you’ve described is Demigod 101. It’s a good thing we were here! Monsters can, uh, smell us.”
Max sniffed herself. All she smelled was fear and B.O.
“Uhhh, Hazel? Are you sure it’s a good idea to be giving her The Talk?” Frank stood up with Percy, who looked a lot better, if green around the gills. “Now that she knows, she’s gonna attract way more monsters.”
Hazel’s hand left Max’s shoulder. “I think we’re past that point. That hellhound was about to chow down. Uh, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Max mumbled.
“So,” Hazel clapped her hands and Max jumped a little, “cats out of the bag. Best thing to do now is keep her informed. Get her down to Camp Jupiter as quick as can be.”
Max felt dizzy with how many strange words these three… demigods? Were throwing around. “Camp Jupiter?”
“Summer camp,” Percy supplied in response to her question, which made Frank frown.
“Uh, it’s… year round. You can’t just send demigods back out into the world. That’s way too dangerous?”
Percy blinked, looking confused. “Right, but….” He shook his head as though to clear it. “Okay, well, what are we going to do now? She’s got no weapons or training, we still need to find the Amazons, and no way to get her to camp!”
“Find us for what?”
An unfamiliar voice made the three demigods suddenly whirl around, forming a protective circle around Max, who was feeling even more useless than usual. Women clad in black and bearing swords suddenly appeared all around them–from behind trees, down from awnings, and out of cars. Max thought she saw one pop out of a garbage can.
Hazel recovered first, lowering her sword and stepping forwards. “We’re demigods of the Twelfth Legion, on a quest for Mars. We were told to stop here and ask for, uhm…”
Percy cleared his throat. “Hylla. We’re looking for—”
The ninja women struck as one unit; two tackled Frank so fast Max didn’t see them start moving. Percy fared better, parrying one sword strike before getting knocked to his knees by another three. Max and Hazel found themselves encircled by the rest, back to back and facing a hedge of swords, which Max thought was totally unfair. She didn’t have any medieval weapons or godly powers! She just had a Polaroid!
One of the women spoke up. “Trespassing on our territory is punishable by death, demigod. You will meet Queen Hylla soon: when she decides your fate.”
Hazel’s shoulders sagged as she presumably recognized how hopeless the situation was. Glancing back, Max saw her sheathing her sword before holding it out. A warrior took it, and a moment later gloved hands were getting very familiar with Max’s body.
“Hey!”
“Sorry.” To Max’s surprise, the Amazon actually did sound sorry as she stepped away. “Just had to make sure you didn’t have a knife up your sleeve.”
A moment later saw Max getting bundled into the back of an Amazon delivery truck with her three saviors. Percy and Frank were bound, but her and Hazel were free.
“So neither of you were going to mention that Amazon was a giant business?”
“It’s a major modern company! Hazel—” Frank cut himself off as an Amazon hopped into the back with them and shot him a glare. He had saved her life a few minutes ago, so Max felt compelled to speak in his defense.
“I mean… I’ve lived here for a couple years and I didn’t know, so…”
Frank looked nervously at the Amazonian, who squinted at him. “Uh, thanks… uhm… What was your name, again?”
“Oh!” Max colored, feeling stupid. Forgetting to say your name after someone introduces themselves was like, the oldest faux pas in the book. To be fair she had just narrowly escaped a demonic hound and was now held hostage by mythic all-woman warriors, but she still felt embarrassed. “Uh, I’m Max.”
They rode in silence for a bit and the Amazon pulled out a phone and started texting. That’s when Hazel made her move “psst, Max.”
Max leaned towards her slightly, keeping her eyes on the Amazon. Hazel continued.
“how did you make that metal thing on your beltloop appear?”
Max frowned and patted her hip. She felt something cold, and looking down she saw a brassy carabiner. Her brow furrowed. She definitely hadn't put that on this morning.
“i didn't… did someone put it on me?”
Hazel shook her head, which Max only knew because her bouncy curls whacked the side of her face. “no, i didn't even sense it until a second ago…”
The Amazonian coughed and gave Max a stern look, so kept her mouth shut. She ran her fingers over the unfamiliar metal as the van pulled into a loading bay. What did Hazel mean ‘sense’ the carabiner? Where did it come from? And why was it weirdly familiar?
More ninja LARPers pulled Frank and Percy out of the van. Their minder pointed out the door, so Max and Hazel took the hint and stepped out. A woman with long, orangish hair stepped forward. Her expression was serious and made Max feel like she was back in second grade about to get scolded for not sharing the markers. She wore a sharp, black pantsuit and a nametag that read KINZIE.
“Mikaila, report.”
Their warden–Mikaila, apparently–stepped forward. “We were shadowing this one,” she jerked her head towards Max, “as we suspected she was an unidentified demigod. These three,” she gestured at Percy, Hazel, and Frank, “rescued her from a hellhound, identified themselves as being from Camp Jupiter, and stated that they were searching for Amazons.”
Mikaila stepped back and grabbed Percy’s collar, yanking him forwards. “And this one stated that they desire to meet Queen Hylla.”
Kinzie stepped forwards, sweeping a piercing look across the four of them. “If they wish to see Queen Hylla, then I am happy to indulge them.”
Kinzie took charge of them, dismissing Mikaila and leading the demigods and Max down a dizzying number of staircases. Max’s legs were seriously starting to hurt, and she was really wishing that she was more in shape. Eventually, they entered a massive room. One of Amazon’s actual shipping centers, if the massive shelving units and miles of conveyor belts were any indicator. Max gawked for a second before a shove got her moving again. Besides the armed women patrolling everywhere, it didn't look that much unlike the centers she had seen on the news or in advertisements. At least until they passed the first forklift and its collared driver.
“You keep slaves?” Hazel sounded truly outraged, and Max couldn't help but feel queasy as she stared. Had she been using slave labor every time she ordered film?
“The men?” Kinzie actually laughed. “They’re not slaves. They just know their place. Now move.”
They had made it halfway across the massive floor when the next distraction occured. One of the guards spoke up, “Y’know… we could take them to Otrera. Might curry favor that way.”
Kinzie snarled at the guard, the atmosphere suddenly taut with violence. “I’d sooner wear a collar and drive a forklift! Hylla is queen.”
“At least until tonight,” the first guard muttered darkly. Kinzie’s fists tightened, but both of them let the matter rest as the group processed.
That was when the merchandise started getting… weird. Most of the pallets still had things like computers, clothing, and other normal stuff. But here and there were bales of swords, giant two-wheeled chariots, and other things that Max definitely didn't think you could normally get online, like the massive stack of New! Kevlar-Asbestos Faux Nemean Lion Skin for only 299.99! that was sitting in the corner.
After passing through a set of doors into a much smaller room, the normal:weird ratio shifted substantially in favor of the ‘weird’ half. There were still shelves and forklifts, but where the shelves prior held mostly normal goods, everything in here was supernatural. And alive. Max’s heart almost stopped when she saw the shelf of cages holding huge, black mastiffs, some even bigger than the one that almost eaten her like a doggy treat, and she hastily looked away. The other cages held creatures that were less personally terrifying, but more bizarre. There were massive ants the size of her dad’s Volkswagen, eagles the size of a microlight airplane, a bizarre lion/hawk hybrid out of a surrealist artist’s portfolio, and—was that a fucking horse with wings on that forklift?
“What are you doing to that poor animal?” Hazel’s tone registered less ‘shock and awe’ and more ‘righteous outrage,’ which made Max wince. Was she the only one who didn’t want to piss off the scary women with very, very sharp swords?
Shockingly, Kinzie didn’t seem particularly offended. “The pegasus? It’ll be fine. Someone must’ve ordered it. It’s pricey, but—”
“Since when can you buy a pegasus online?” Percy wondered aloud. Kinzie shot him a nasty look.
“For you, a male? Never.” A guard shoved Percy and that was that. As they approached the end of the room, Max saw that what she had taken for a random pile of books was, in fact, some sort of raised structure. A platform and… throne? made up of what must’ve been thousands of novels and self-help books. At the base of the structure’s steps a gaggle of Amazons—in camouflage, not all black—argued angrily while the woman on the throne looked at them with eyes as dark as obsidian and twice as sharp, made even darker by the gold belt on her waist. Max shivered. Her feet hurt, her head was sore, and she was fucking terrified. She was so focused on how miserable she felt that she walked into Hazel when she stopped short.
“It’s him.”
“Him, who?” Percy asked. Kinzie's expression soured, but lightened slightly when she looked in the same direction as Hazel.
“Ah yes. Beautiful, isn’t he?”
Max craned her neck, feeling sick. Was one of Hazel’s friends in an orange jumpsuit and collar? Or even worse, a cage? The nausea became confusion when she tracked Hazel’s gaze. “That’s a horse?”
“Just ‘a horse?’” Kinzie cocked an eyebrow at Max, who shrunk back. “That is Arion, son of Poseidon and Demeter.”
Max blinked, her brain blaring dial-up noises as she (poorly) processed the information that not only were the Greek Gods apparently real, but two of them produced… a horse?
Hazel stepped towards the cage, looking like she was entranced. “Is he… is he for sale?”
The guards laughed, but when Kinzie continued she sounded almost indulgent. “No, but I understand your fascination. There is a reason that he is the royal treasure of the Amazons, and prophesied to be claimed by our strongest warrior.”
Hazel hesitated, staring at the horse for a few moments longer, but she finally dragged her eyes away from him. As she did, he reared up and slammed against the side of the cage, as though vying for her attention.
“And that is why he is in a cage,” Kinzie grumbled, “now let us not keep Queen Hylla waiting.”
Hazel clearly wanted to say something, but instead she nodded and started walking again. While they had been delayed by the horse, the argument at the back of the room had gotten even noisier. The queen looked away from the yelling women, with an expression that screamed God I want to kill someone, just in time to make eye contact with Max.
“Enough!” She thundered. Max yelped and stumbled back, only to be caught by a guard. The petitioners in front of the queen shut up and sulked away as she beckoned Kinzie—and her prisoners—forward.
Kinzie stepped out of the way and presented their group. “My queen, these four demig—”
The queen bolted to her feet and Kinzie immediately cut herself off. “You!”
Percy cursed in a different language—not the same one as Frank had?—and then continued in English. “Clipboard. Spa. Pirates.”
Max felt like her head was going to explode, but this apparently made perfect sense to the Amazon Queen, who stepped down from the dais as she drew a dagger.
“You were foolish to come here,” if Max had thought the queen was scary before, she was the stuff of literal nightmares now, “you destroyed my home! You turned my sister and I into prisoners!”
“Percy,” Frank sounded a lot calmer than Max felt, “what is the scary lady with a knife talking about?”
“Circe’s island. I just remembered. The Gorgon’s Blood—it must be starting to heal my mind. The Sea of Monsters. Hylla… was there.” He frowned, turning grayish again.
Hylla sneered. “Are you saying you have amnesia? I might actually believe you, because I can't believe anyone would be stupid enough to show me their face after what you’ve done.”
“Amnesia?” Max echoed, faintly. “Is anybody going to tell me anything in a normal way?”
She immediately regretted speaking speaking, because Hylla looked at her as she stepped closer, frowning. “And who are you? You do not hail from Camp Jupiter.”
It took a guard elbowing Max in the ribs for her to realize it wasn’t a rhetorical question.
“Arcadia Bay!” She yelped. “I mean, no, I’m uh, Max Caulfield. Of Arcadia Bay. Uhm, at your service?” Max tried to curtsy like she vaguely remembered seeing women do in front of Queen Elizabeth II. It was awkward seeing as she wasn't wearing a skirt.
Hylla, thankfully, snorted at the ungainly display instead of shouting off with her head! Queen of Hearts style.
“Queen Hylla, please,” Hazel stepped towards the woman instead of away, which cemented Max’s opinion of her as ‘terminally badass.’ “I don't know what Percy did, but today we come in peace—”
“Peace? He destroyed Circe’s school of magic!” Aaaand Hylla was back to being angry.
“She turned me into a guinea pig!”
“What? Literally?” Max looked at Percy, who scuffed the floor with his feet.
“...I got better.”
“Enough excuses!” Hylla took another step towards them, waving her dagger at Percy like a magic wand. “Circe was a wonderful employer! I had dental, healthcare, magic lessons, room and board, and then you and that blonde gender traitor—”
“Annabeth!” Percy knocked a fist against the side of his head, like he was trying to get some vintage tech to work, “I was there with Annabeth, why–”
“both ruined it!” Hylla continued as though he had never spoken, “you unleashed Blackbeard and burnt the spa! My sister and I were taken hostage by filthy pirates, thanks to you two!”
She stepped even closer, and Max could see utter rage in her eyes, untempered by any reason. “If my sister and I were not daughters of Bellona… well, lets just say it is lucky we learned to fight quickly.” Her tone darkened. “The pirates learned to respect us fast enough, and we escaped in California.” The anger cooled slightly as Hylla suddenly seemed sad. “Where Reyna and I… parted.”
Hazel spoke up again. “Queen Hylla, we are here at the request of Reyna! Look—her ring is on Percy’s necklace!”
Hylla frowned and stepped off of the final ledge, moving past Hazel and towards Percy. She lowered her knife to his neck, but besides turning slightly gray, he made no move. Did being a demigod mean you were inhumanly brave?
“Explain. Now.”
Percy took a breath but she snarled at him, “not you, her!”
Max felt a moment of panic and confusion as she contemplated how to say ‘hey I know less than you do’ to the Queen of Scary Women. Thankfully, Hazel’s calm tones filled the room before she could make a fool of herself by saying something like you’re asking me? or something equally stupid.
“Queen Hylla, as you know, we are from Camp Jupiter. Percy,” she nodded at the older boy, whose only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, “appeared before Frank and I carrying the Goddess Juno across the highway, pursued by gorgons. After carrying Juno to our camp, he slew both gorgons and was accepted into the legion in probatio. From the moment we met, he has had no memory of his past, and this was confirmed by our augur.”
“Get to the point, demigod.”
Hazel gulped and started speaking faster. “Well, uh, that evening, Mars appeared and gave us a quest, stating that Frank and Percy had to go to Alaska to kill the giant Alyconeus and free Death from his chains. Reyna met with Percy in the morning, telling us to come here for aid, and entrusting her ring to him.”
The hair on Max’s neck prickled, and she looked back to see another entourage of Amazons approaching, with an especially tall and stately woman in the lead. Hylla looked like she wanted to hit the newcomer.
“Camp Jupiter, is… well, a massive army of monsters is moving south to destroy the camp and erase the legacy of Rome. We,” Hazel gestured at all of them, Max included, which made her uneasy, “have two days to reach Hubbard Glacier, kill a giant unkillable in his homeland, and free Thanatos from his chains. We need your help, your majesty. Reyna needs your help.”
Before Max could protest that she was not planning a vacation to Alaska, or even ask about Mars, Alyconeus, Camp Jupiter, Death, or ANYTHING about what the fuck was going on, the newly arrived woman spoke up.
“So! The mighty Romans need our help!” She laughed and her retainers joined in. For a bizarre moment Max thought about Mean Girls. “How many times did we do battle with the Romans in my day? How many worthy Amazons have they slain? In my day–”
“There were no Romans in your day, Otrera,” Hylla snapped, “and you are queen no longer.”
“So you say, queen Hylla.” The woman managed to make the title sound like a slur, “But I speak the truth. A new war rises, the Earth itself against Olympus! Why should we fight alongside Romans and serve Zeus when we could follow a Queen! When I take command—”
“If.” Hylla’s tone brooked no further argument. “I am still queen, Otrera. My word is law.”
“It is as you say, and yet…” Otrera trailed off, sweeping a performative look over the group of prisoners, “since when did the Queen of the Amazons listen to male demigods? Would you spare the life of this son of Neptune after he destroyed your home? Would you suffer him to destroy this home too?”
“I will decide based on reason, Otrera. Not fear. I must question any female warrior before sentencing her or her allies to death—that is the Amazon way. Or have your millennia in Asphodel muddled your memories?” Otrera sneered, but remained silent. “Take these males to the holding cells, I shall question the women further. The rest of you–leave me!”
Otrera jumped in before Hylla’s orders could be executed. “Come, let us do as our queen commands. But any who wish to hear more of Gaea and our future victories, to me!”
Hylla watched stonily as about half of the Amazons followed Otrera out of a side door. The rest filtered out in little clusters, as did Kinzie and a half dozen guards, who escorted Percy and Frank away. As soon as only Hylla’s personal guards were left in the chamber, she made a signal to them and they moved away, stepping into the exits.
Hylla turned to them, and Max almost didn't recognize her as the stern woman she had been a moment before. Instead of a timeless, implacable queen, Max suddenly saw a tired, college-aged woman. Like any of the thousands who lived in Seattle. As her shoulders sagged, Max realized she was more than just tired. She looked… scared?
“We must talk. In all likelihood, I will be dead by midnight.”
Max blinked rapidly, looking between Hylla—who had taken on an almost pleading expression—and Hazel, whose gold eyes were flicking around the room.
Hylla smiled faintly. “Don’t even think about escape. I would respect you for trying, but then I would really have to kill you.”
“Fair warning.” Hazel’s attention snapped onto Hylla. “I take it you aren’t currently planning to do so?”
Hylla sighed. “I certainly don’t think it would be just. I believe your tale, and I believe that you have come in peace and with Reyna’s blessing.” For the first time since she saw the giant hound, Max felt her mood lift slightly. Said mood fell right back down at Hazel’s next words.
“But you won't help us.”
“I can’t,” the queen said plainly, “the Amazons have never had the best relationship with demigods, and the less said about male demigods, the better. Achilles killed our queen, Penthesilea, at Troy. A handful of years before that, Hercules stole the Belt of Queen Hippolyta,” she gestured at her waist, “which took us centuries to recover. And long before that, the hero Bellerophon slew our first queen, Otrera.”
Max closed her eyes and rubbed hard. When she opened them, she sadly had not woken up in her bed. “You mean the woman who just—”
“Yes, Max. That was our first queen. And a daughter of Ares.”
“Mars?” Hazel jumped in.
“The planet?” Max wondered.
“No, definitely Ares,” Hylla continued, giving Max a weird look. As I said earlier, Otrera long predates Rome, from a time when all demigods were Greek. Some of our warriors still prefer the old ways even now.”
Hazel seemed stunned, which meant that this was probably a Grand Revelation of some kind that Max had none of the fucking context for thank you very much.
“You mean the Amazons are a mix of both Greek and Roman?”
Hylla’s brow furrowed. “I imagine they don't teach you this at Camp Jupiter, but the gods… well… tend to collect personalities. Like sediment, or the best sellers list. This section comes from the paranormal romance era following Twilight,” she gestured to one of the steps, dominated by titles about werewolves and vampires, “this one from the dystopia era following The Hunger Game, and so on. When you look at the gods from the top, so to speak, they are American, but from the side, they have many facets.”
“I–I’m sorry, but what the fuck is everyone talking about?” Max finally spoke up, sheer confusion overcoming her natural shyness. “I— I just woke up this morning and then I saw a giant dog, and now everyone is talking about gods and demigods–is that, like, code? Am I going insane? What…”
Hylla gave Max a pitying look. “The first day is always the hardest, Max… I wish I had time to explain, but we must move as soon as Kinzie–ah, speak of the Furies.”
Kinzie appeared from the door she had left from, alone this time, and approached the throne. She bowed as she spoke.
“My queen, the prisoners are secure… but Otrera’s followers ensured that they are in charge of the cells.”
Hylla sighed, seemingly unsurprised. “No matter, Kinzie. Stay with us, we were just getting to business.”
“Otrera.” Hazel sounded beyond confident. “Gaea brought her back from the dead to sow discord amongst the Amazons.”
Hylla nodded grimly. “It would appear so. Otrera wishes to march against New Rome… as do many of my sisters. She is a legend amongst us, and we feel little love for Rome.”
“But she’s a spirit! She isn’t even—”
“Real?” Hylla finished, an eyebrow quirked at Hazel. “I’m a disciple of Circe. I know a returned soul when I see one. When did you die, Hazel? Nineteen-twenty? Thirty?”
“Nineteen-forty two,” Max suddenly felt lightheaded, but Hazel pressed on, “but I wasn't sent by Gaea! I came back last year to stop her. I… in my first life, I made a mistake. This is my second chance to stop her.”
“Second chances…” Hylla looked out over her empty throne room, but her eyes didn't seem to reflect it. “I know second chances well. To tell you the truth, I don’t know whether to hate or thank Percy. Reyna and I were safe with Circe, yes, but I was a secretary. A barbie doll for her to pose. She taught me the bare minimum to be helpful and dressed me up in silks and makeup.” Her gaze returned to Max and Hazel. “When Percy and Annabeth killed Circe and freed the pirates, it was painful and terrifying, but we both proved our worth with weapons. We both earned true freedom… and now Reyna is Praetor at Camp Jupiter, and I am Queen of the Amazons. At first I wanted to kill Percy Jackson for what we endured, but…”
“Maybe you were always destined for queenship,” Hazel broke in, “and Reyna for praetorship. Circe was holding you both back.”
Hylla rubbed the belt on her waist. “I may not be queen for much longer.”
Kinzie bristled. “You will not fall!”
“Perhaps,” the queen sighed before looking back at Max and Hazel. “You see, Otrera has challenged me to a duel, as is the right of every Amazon. At midnight tonight, we do battle for this very throne.”
“But… you can win, right? I mean, you became queen in the first place.” Max blinked, realizing that she had spoken. Now that Hylla wasn't booming or waving her dagger, she felt… braver than normal?
“Indeed, Max, I am ‘good’... but Otrera is the founder of the Amazons. She is a legend.”
Hazel spoke up next, “yes, but an ancient one. She’s been dead for millennia! Maybe she’s out of practice?”
“I hope so. You see, it is a battle to the death…”
As grim as that was, Max didn't grasp the full implications until Hazel spoke, her voice grim.
“Even if you kill her, she won’t die. She’ll come back with Gaea’s help and challenge you again.”
Hylla nodded. “There are no rules against repeat challenges—why would there be?—so she is free to challenge me night after night, until I am exhausted and she wins. It is a matter of time before Otrera slays me and moves the Amazons south.”
“We can’t let that happen!” Hazel said. “My friends and I, we killed another of Gaea’s demigod minions, Phineas, back in Portland. We can help you!”
“This is an internal affair, the other Amazons would simply depose me if I accepted outside help,” said Hylla sadly, “and if I release your friends they would do the same. They will either be executed today by me, or tomorrow by Otrera.”
As if protesting the situation, Arion nickered and slammed against his cage again.
“It’s curious,” Hylla drawled, “he seems to sympathize with you. He’s the fastest horse in the world, you know. Pegasus may be more famous, but Arion outpaces him.”
She sighed, lost in thought. “Capturing him was supposed to be a great accomplishment of mine, but lately it’s felt like an albatross around my neck. None of us have been able to ride him, for he tries to kill anyone who attempts to do so. And he’s expensive to keep, to boot. He can eat almost anything, but prefers gold.”
“Gold?” Hazel kneeled and pressed a hand to the ground. Before Max could even wonder what she was doing, the polymer flooring cracked and a massive nugget of gold emerged.
“I—Hazel, what?”
Hazel ignored Max, instead walking towards Arion’s cage. Hylla gasped when she divined her intentions.
“Hazel, don’t! He’ll…”
Hazel reached through the bars and offered the nugget up. Arion ate it from her hand gently.
“Impossible.” Kinzie said, “the last girl who tried that lost her arm.”
Hazel turned back towards them, smiling broadly as she stroked Arion’s powerful neck. “I think he likes me!”
“Hazel… we spent years chasing this horse because it was prophesied that the strongest female warrior would tame him and bring an era of prosperity for the Amazons, and yet he has suffered no Amazon to touch him. Even Otrera failed!”
A thought occurred to Max, and she spoke before she could think better of it. “Did the prophecy specify that the warrior her tamed her had to be an Amazon?” Her nerve failed her as Hylla looked at her and she immediately added “Not to say that the Amazons aren’t mighty warriors! I just meant—”
“I take your meaning, Max. But even if Hazel is the prophesied warrior, my hands are tied… I cannot let you four free.”
Words came to Max’s tongue, and for once she let them out instead of swallowing. “I mean, you definitely can’t let us go free, but…” she glanced at Hazel who was cooing at Arion, “Hazel here is chosen by the fastest horse in the world, and the three of them are fantastic fighters. With just a little bad luck, who knows what could happen...”
God, (Gods?) did Max really just suggest the Queen of Amazons let them stage a prison break? If the gods were real, at least one of them was smiling on her, because Hylla was nodding slowly.
“Kinzie,” Hylla said slowly, “are Otrera’s followers the only ones guarding the cells?”
Kinzie grimaced. “I should've foreseen that they would–”
“No no, it’s alright. Better, even. It would be embarrassing if Otrera’s followers were overcome by a pair of outsiders and allowed prisoners to escape.”
Kinzie’s eyes widened and a smile slowly spread across her face. “Of course, my queen. It would injure Otrera's credibility if her followers were so lacking.”
“Of course, we couldn't help you two,” Hylla glanced between Max and Hazel, “but if you overpowered the guards and freed your friends…”
Kinzie chimed in, “say, by taking one of the guards Amazon cards with One-Tap Purchasing enabled, which will open the jail cells with a single tap…”
“If something so awful were to happen,” Hylla continued, “you would find your weapons and supplies in the guard station next to the cells, and if you were fast enough and returned while I was off preparing for a duel, well… Arion is very fast. It would be a shame if someone stole him and a chariot and left before they could be stopped.”
Hazel walked back towards the throne. Her eyes were gleaming like the twenty-four karat fortune she had just given Arion. “I… understand, Queen Hylla. And we have one more ace up our sleeve.”
She looked meaningfully towards Max, who looked behind herself. “Wait, what? You mean me? I– Hazel—”
Hazel cut her off. “I’ll tell you what to do later. Queen Hylla,” she turned towards the smiling woman; “I promise you, we will free Thanatos by the twenty-fourth. Once he’s free, Otrera will die and stay dead.”
“So I only have to defeat the legendary founder of the Amazons every night until then,” Hylla said dryly, “that should be easy.”
Hazel winced but pressed on, “I know it may seem impossible, but I know you can do it, Hylla.”
Hylla shook her head and sighed. “I hope you’re right, Hazel.” She looked carefully over Max and Hazel before turning to Kinzie. “This conversation never happened. Take our prisoners to the cells and hand them over to Otrera’s guards.”
Kinzie nodded and started herding Max and Hazel towards the door, but paused as Hylla called out.
“Oh, and Kinzie? Do be sure to leave before anything… unfortunate happens.”
The moment they were in the corridor, Hazel started murmuring to Max while Kinzie did her best “deaf/blind prison guard” impression.
“Max, when I give the word, take your clip off of your jeans.”
“The carabiner?”
“Just trust me. I didn't realize it until just now, but your carabiner feels just like Percy’s pen to me.”
“What?”
Hazel stomped in frustration, which was weirdly endearing. “I know you’re overwhelmed, Max, but trust me. Take the carabiner off of your pants and hand it to me when I give the word, okay?”
“I— sure, okay. But what are you gonna do with a carabiner?”
Kinzie cleared her throat and Max winced. She really hadn't meant to say that so loudly.
Hazel continued, softer than before. “I don't think it’s actually a carabiner… you’ll see what I mean.”
Max wanted to demand answers, but she honestly didn't even know where to start. So, she just shut up and walked. They soon came to a set of ladders, which Kinzie gestured towards. Max groaned.
“Don’t you have an elevator?”
“Climb, demigod.”
Kinzie was a pretty good actress, because her icy tone betrayed nothing of their scheme. Max climbed.
She was starting to feel dizzy as they approached fifty feet in the air. They stepped out onto a catwalk and Kinzie tied their hands loosely with some rope.
“Be sure to move before they can examine your bindings,” she whispered, “they will fall apart with any force.” Hazel nodded and Max mirrored her, although she lacked the resolve displayed on Hazel’s face.
“Move it, scum.”
Max flinched at Kinzie’s snarl and did, in fact, move it. A trio of Amazonian guards looked up in annoyance from half a football field away before going back to their Kindles. Percy and Frank looked up from their cages nearby, and Max’s gut twisted as she looked at them.
Halfway to the guards and cages, Hazel stopped and subtly aligned herself to the left, away from their destination and towards a massive crate labeled Silver Friendship Bracelets. Kinzie jabbed her shoulders as Max awkwardly slowed to a stop.
“Move, Hazel!” She hissed, “they’ll get suspicious!”
Hazel hissed something back that Max missed. She stepped closer.
Kinzie whispered again, “Why—”
“Please.”
Max heard Hazel this time, but she was still in the dark. She itched to ask what the plan was, but it wasn't like she’d be helpful anyways, so she stayed quiet. Instead, she watched as the guards started to look at them with frowns.
“Well?” Kinzie shouted, “here are the other two prisoners! Come and get them!”
One of the guards set down her tablet with annoyance. “And why is it that you can’t bring them another fifty feet, Kinzie.”
“Uhm—”
Max suddenly had an idea, briefly wondered if terminal boldness was contagious, and rolled with it. She stumbled and landed heavily against the railing—turning to hide her carabiner.
“Ugh, fuck! I can’t walk another step! Just carry me, goddamnit!”
“There, see!” Kinzie crossed her arms. “I’m sick of making this one cooperate. Come and carry her! Or do you want me to tell Hylla that you’re rebelling against her dictates, Doris?”
Doris started towards Max, scowling. “Fine! But you’ll get yours when Otrera is queen, Kinzie.” Max caught Hazel’s eye, panicking as Doris approached.
Not yet, the dark-skinned girl mouthed.
Doris grabbed Max’s shoulder—her left shoulder thank god…s—and she heard Kinzie’s footsteps retreating. Max resisted, leaning away from her.
“Stop it, lemme go!”
“You—” Doris snarled. “KINZIE, DON’T JUST—ARGH. Lily! Come help me!”
The next guard—Lily—rolled her eyes before standing upright. “I hear ya, I hear ya.” Despite her tone, she set a fair clip coming over. Max looked at Hazel. Her eyes were closed and she seemed focused.
Lily was 30 feet away. 20. Just when Max was about to panic, Hazel growled, “Max, get me time!”
‘Buying time’ hadn’t been the plan, but Max channeled her rising fear into action, surging up and surprising the guard, who hadn’t been ready for the lame, limp teen to suddenly become a lame, active teen. She wrenched her hands from her bonds, and pulled the carabiner from her waist—
and she was suddenly holding a dagger to Doris’ throat.
“Whoa!” Doris reacted with the speed of a striking viper, slapping Max’s surprise knife out of her hands and off the catwalk as she stumbled back.
“No!” Max lunged, and even though the blade was beyond reach, she reached out—
and she was suddenly holding a dagger to Doris’ throat.
“Wha–”
“Whoa!” Doris’ shout cut Max’s off. Her hand came across and slapped the knife into the void again. Max stared at it.
“How did you do—”
Max ignored Doris, instead raising a hand towards the knife
and she was suddenly holding a dagger to Doris’ throat. She clutched it harder this time.
“Whoa!” Doris slapped Max’s hand away from her throat and backpedaled, but Max kept hold of the blade this time. “LILY! ASHLEY! CODE BRONZE!”
Lily dove at Max as Doris charged, and on instinct Max stepped back, slashing the air. The moment she did so, her weird reaction time trick kicked in, and it was like the Amazons were moving through honey.
“I… have powers?” Max looked around wildly. Hazel was moving slightly, slowly. She stared at the knife in her hand. It was long—maybe the size of an extra large kitchen knife—and looked a lot like Sting from the Lord of the Rings movies, except with an even more pronounced leaf shape. Looking past her blade, she saw Doris and Lily looked shocked, as the third guard–Ashley–charged in slow-mo.
Right. Guards. Max should handle first, marvel later. She hesitated before running forward, shoving Lily’s tackle off course and back towards Doris. The moment she stepped back, her reactions slowed back down like a rubber band snapping back into shape.
Lily yelped as she suddenly and violently reversed course, hitting Doris’ legs, who promptly face planted into the catwalk.
And then Hazel roared, and a tidal wave of bracelets, pendants, and assorted tacky jewelry washed across the catwalk.
Hazel clearly focused her effort on the two Amazons, scrubbing them off the catwalk with a wave of bling, but Max also got shunted to the side. She hit the railing and dropped her dagger. “Shit!” She reached out… and nothing happened. Shit.
The Amazons were screaming, Hazel was saying something, but Max wasn’t listening. She kept her arm out, desperately trying to make the dagger rewind course. Why wasn’t it working? Why couldn’t she bring it back?
“Max? What are you–”
“My dagger!” Max sounded desperate even to her own ears. “I dropped it and I can’t bring it back!”
Hazel stepped over to Max and also reached out.
“I… don’t sense it—wait what?” Hazel stepped back and Max turned to look at her. She looked shaken. “Max, check your waistband.”
“What, I—” Max looked down, and the bronze carabiner seemed to wink at her. “How? I– I swear I dropped it…”
Max trailed after Hazel, who was marching towards Percy and Frank. “I believe you, Max… when I reached out for it, I couldn't feel it at all until it appeared at your hip, like the van, remember?”
Max nodded slowly as they reached the cells. Hazel clearly had… some kind of control over metals, and the clip had appeared out of nowhere in the van…
Percy and Frank stepped out of the cells. Frank was looking at Hazel with awe. Percy was looking at Max like she was some kind of venomous creature.
“Hazel,” Frank started, “that was incredible. You too, Max! How did you move like that?”
“I—”
“Sorry boys, we can catch up later. Any second now—”
Alarms cut Hazel off and she grimaced before taking off at a dead run for the end of the catwalk. Percy, Frank, and Max followed, but Max could feel the weight of Percy’s regard.
As far as prison breaks went, Max hadn’t ever had one go smoother. Or rougher. She wasn’t in the habit of orchestrating prison breaks. Regardless, with Hazel the Metal Magician on their side, handling the masses of Amazons that filled the catwalks and floor under them was easy; every now and then she paused, closed her eyes, and more pallets exploded into shiny displays of gold, silver, and semiprecious stone. They stepped off of the final ladder to floorspace that looked like King Midas—shit, was King Midas real?—had fought an army of possessed jewelry to a gaudy standstill.
“Hazel Levesque,” Frank murmured, “you are fucking incredible.”
Hazel blushed, but also tutted like an old timey school teacher. “Frank! Language!”
Still, they ran back to the throne room. At least Max assumed they were going to the throne room. Her sense of direction was hardly the best, but Hazel seemed pretty certain. Apparently her metal powers extended to compasses.
They soon ran past an Amazon who was, presumably, one of Hylla’s. The heavily armed woman looked intimidating, but a heartbeat after seeing Hazel she pivoted and walked the other way.
“Wha–”
“Some of them want us to escape,” Hazel cut across Percy, “we’ll explain later.”
Their luck didn’t hold all the way to the throne room. An armored woman standing outside the final door reacted like lightning when she saw their group, whipping out a spear. Max grabbed for her carabiner/dagger praying that she could summon up whatever semidivine reflexes she had on the catwalk, but Percy had them all covered. He dashed the rest of the hallways, parrying the Amazon’s jab and following through, slamming the hilt of his sword—and her spear—against her chest. She stumbled back and he slammed the bottom of his sword into her helmet. Max winced as she staggered and fell.
“What the– where did you learn to fight like that?!” Frank spluttered.
Percy shot a wolfish grin over his shoulder. “Looks like I’m starting to remember some moves, too. Now, after you.”
He gestured into the hall in a strangely gentlemanly manner, and Max felt profoundly grateful that she wasn't an enemy of this bizarre and frankly terrifying demigod.
They filed into the throne room to see Arion staring at them. He nickered as though to ask what took them so long as they approached his cage.
Percy muttered something about New York minutes before speaking up. “Uh, Hazel?”
“Yeah Percy?” Hazel answered.
“Did you have an appointment with the horse? He seems to think you’re late.”
“You can speak horse?” Frank cut into their conversation, which honestly made Max feel a lot better about herself. Maybe it was petty, but it was really, really nice to not be the only confused one.
“Uh, yeah. It’s a ‘Son of Poseidon’ thing.”
“I thought Otrera called you a son of Neptune,” Max wondered aloud, “is that the same thing?”
“No,” said Percy; “yes,” said Frank, both over the other.
Hazel split the difference as she tapped her Amazon card on the cage, opening it. “Yes and no. Actually, come to think of it, you and Arion are brothers on your dad’s side.”
Percy swore in a language that was definitely not English or Latin. “Excuse me?”
Hazel waved him off as she coddled Arion, who whinnied at her. “Point is, he’s fast.”
“He says he’s willing to pull a chariot for us,” Percy said, still sounding a tad overwhelmed, “and that there’s a big one in the next warehouse.”
Hazel nodded and jogged forwards, Arion at her side.
“There!”
Max looked over her shoulder to see Amazons—Otrera’s, she thought—pouring into the room behind them. They seemed to think twice when they saw the stallion besides Hazel, before changing direction for the forklifts.
Hazel somehow jumped onto Arion’s back, which made Max’s heart clench in sympathetic strain. How the hell were these kids so damn athletic?
“Follow me!” She shouted, a note of wild joy in her voice as Arion started moving. Max hastily broke into a run along Frank and Percy as the stallion surged forwards and through the massive doors, into the greater warehouse beyond. Startled shouts erupted as she surged through, only to be comically muted, unmuted, and muted again as the doors swung past their closure point once before settling.
“Gods of the Pantheon,” Frank said dreamily, “she’s incredible.”
Percy snorted. “C’mon loverboy, let's move it!” and ran ahead of them.
Max and Frank both swore and sped up.
“Is it always like this?” she panted.
Frank nodded glumly. “Yeah, or worse.”
And that was all they had time for before they darted through the doors that Percy had opened ahead of them, and into total mayhem.