Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. Usually, it would get you killed in painful, nasty ways.

I thought I was just a normal kid; reading fiction never hurt. They're just stories, right?
I was wrong. Fiction can hurt. A LOT.
My name is Izzy Mira, and I was 13 years old when I went on vacation with my family in New York when suddenly I was somewhere else. It was a place that looked like New York, but New York doesn’t have winged horses.

I stood frozen at what I had seen, not moving, not even blinking, until whatever the heck I was looking at flew away.

"Uh, did anyone else see that?" I asked my family, but I got no response. "Mom? Dad? Oli?"

I looked around, but my family, who had just been walking with me, was nowhere to be seen. What could be seen (and heard) was a bunch of angry New Yorkers honking at me. I just realized I was in the middle of the crosswalk.

I got to the other side of the road and remembered I was...wait, what?

I tried thinking through it, and for some reason I have two sets of memories. According to one, I'm only here on vacation, but according to the other, my family had recently moved to New York because my dad got a job opportunity. My mom began teaching piano lessons again inside our new home (apartment), and my brother is still the same annoying 4 years younger than me.

I stick my hand in my pocket and pull out a key, a key to an apartment. As soon as I saw the key, I immediately remembered that my family's apartment is located in the Upper West Side, near Central Park.

With nothing but a lot of confusion, I went home(?). Eventually I found myself standing in front of the building, and I couldn't help but feel a knot forming in my stomach.

What if something's wrong with my family, like my memories? What if something's wrong with me? What if I'm going crazy?

After several moments of hesitation, I step forward, my feet carrying me up the familiar(?) sight of my family's apartment stairs.

The journey seemed to take forever as I made my way up the stairs. I paused for a moment outside the door, taking another deep breath before reaching out to unlock the door and turn the doorknob. The door creaks open, revealing the interior of my apartment. I stepped inside and immediately relaxed. All the scents I associate with home were here. The aroma of my mom's cooking with all kinds of herbs I could never name from the kitchen, my little brother's sports gear he always forgets to clean in a messy pile by the door, and the faint whiff of my dad's cologne on the couch where he reads. It's all so familiar, but...is this really real? I remember living in Florida and New York? What's real? If this isn't? Is it some sort of dream?

The sound of the piano dragged me away from my thoughts.

"Mom…?" I called, hesitantly.

The music abruptly stops, and I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. A few moments later, my mom appears in the doorway, her eyes widening when she sees me. “Isabell? What are you doing here?"

She still calls me Isabell, even though everyone calls me Izzy.

My mom wrapped me in a warm hug, her familiar scent of vanilla shampoo enveloping me. She pulled back, and her amber eyes looked down at me with curiosity. "What are you doing here, sweetheart?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, was I supposed to be somewhere else?

"Honey, you look like you've seen a ghost. Is everything alright? Is there a reason why you're not at school? I thought today was a mock day for high school." My mom shared.

I looked at the time and realized that, yeah, normally I would be in school right now. I also just now noticed I've got a backpack on. I tell my mom that I’m not feeling well and ask if I could just stay home today.

She looks at me with concern but (thankfully) agrees. "Of course, sweetie. You don't have to go if you're not feeling well. Do you want some lunch or something?"

I shake my head, still feeling a bit dazed by everything that's happened. "I think I'm just going to lie down in my room."

"All right. Take your time and rest. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She gives me another hug before heading back to the piano.

The familiarity of my family's apartment gives me some comfort, but its that strange comfort that's making me so uncomfortable. I made my way to my bedroom, closing the door behind me and lying down on my bed, trying to think, sifting through today's memories.

I was walking, there was so much boring walking, I pulled out one of my favorite books to read (for the millionth time) to pass the time-that's right! I was reading Percy Jackson! Wait, where're my books? I looked everywhere in my room and none of my Percy Jackson books were anywhere! And that's impossible! I'd never lose those books!

I suddenly had a crazy idea and went to my laptop that my wai po bought for me before I moved to New York. I look up Percy Jackson, and I find nothing, no search results, which makes no sense. The Percy Jackson books were very popular, and I couldn't find anything on them, and the author doesn't exist. Nothing's making any sense.

Then the crazy idea that I’m actually in the books pops up in my head, I deny it at first, but then wonder if that could possibly explain with flying horse I saw.

I take out a notebook and begin writing down as much from the books to the best of my ability; luckily, my memory of the stories is still intact. After rewriting from memory as best I can, and doing some more internet research, I realize I'm not far from where Percy Jackson lives and begin searching for information on him. But just like the books there's nothing on him, I try expanding my search and look up his mom: Sally Jackson, and actually find out where she works. (The internet is a scary place).

Turns out she works at a candy shop, and it's not too far away. Upon learning so I decide to do something I've never done before: sneak out.

I made my way to the candy shop, and see Sally Jackson herself in the shop. I know it's her because of her name tag. She's beautiful, but then I see a man and two kids walk over to her and call her "Mom" and "Honey."

Huh? Who's that? Sally Jackson isn't supposed to be married to a random guy or have two young kids.

I pretend to go look at some candy and eavesdrop on their conversation. They talk about dinner plans, and as I do, I realize Percy doesn't exist.

I run back home without buying anything and go through all my notes, nothing is making any sense!

First I see a pegasus, then I found out the Percy Jackson books don't exist, I meet Sally Jackson in real life, and apparently Percy himself doesn't exist!

I'm going crazy aren't I? Asking questions with seemingly no answers is pointless, so for now I ask questions I know I can find answers too. Like what school was I supposed to go to today?

I go through my backpack and find my school ID, and like the key, as soon as I see it, memories fill my head. I got this at freshmen orientation, I remember some of the staff being surprised that I was a year younger than most of the incoming freshmen (I skipped pre-school). I continue to stare at my high school ID from my backpack; I freeze in shock. I read the school name and immediately recognized it, 'Goode High School.' The high school where Percy Jackson went and Rachel Elizabeth Dare went.

Rachel, that's right. If Percy doesn't exist, does she? Could I meet her?

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to meet her, Rachel was always one of my favorite underrated characters. I always did think it was ridiculous how she got so much hate just because she had a crush on Percy, hello, everyone had a crush on Percy in the books!

With nothing else to do, I go to bed, remembering that school officially starts tomorrow, and early.

I arrived at Goode High School, tired, I didn't get much sleep last night. I looked at my schedule and made my way to art class, my first class of the day.

I know Rachel likes art; who knows, maybe it'll be something we can bond over.

I walked into art class, trying to look as casual as possible and not like a total dork. I glanced around the room, taking in the different projects and posters adorning the walls. When suddenly, I see her: Rachel Elizabeth Dare! I know it’s her. It has to be! Her appearance is exactly how the books described, giant red frizzy hair and green eyes.

I mentally hype myself up, and approach Rachel's seat; I can feel my heart racing in my chest as I clear my throat and force a smile onto my face, trying not to look nervous.

“Hi, um, is this seat next to you empty?" I ask, pointing to the seat beside her.

Rachel looks up from her sketchbook, her green eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, yeah, it is," she says, sounding just as surprised as she looks. “You're new here, right? I'm Rachel."

She offers me a small smile, and I can't help but return it. “Yeah, is it that obvious? I’m Izzy. I’m actually new to, well… New York in general.”

"Oh, cool!" Rachel says, her eyes lighting up with curiosity, “So, where are you from? And how did you end up at Goode High School?"

"My dad actually got a job offer, so my family moved all the way here from Florida," I explain to her.

"Wow! that's so far from here!" Rachel says, impressed. "And you managed to end up at Goode High School? That's kind of a big deal, isn't it?"

"Yeah, luckily my grades were good enough and my parents were able to afford the tuition.”

Rachel nods in understanding, “Well, it's always nice to meet someone new." She pauses for a moment before asking, "Do you think we have any other classes together?"

I pull out my schedule and ask to see hers to see if we have any others together. As we compare schedules, I notice that Rachel and I share 4 classes: art, math, gym, and English.

It makes me happy that I’ll see Rachel more. It's the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better and maybe even become friends.

The rest of the day passes by in a blur of introductions, new faces, and navigating the halls of Goode High School. Rachel and I manage to squeeze in a quick lunch together in the cafeteria, where we discuss our favorite subjects and teachers so far.

“Not gonna lie, I was scared for English class, but Mr. Blofis seems nice!" I say with relief.

Rachel nods in agreement, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I heard he's pretty cool. And hey, maybe we'll even get to work on some projects together!"

I smile back at Rachel, feeling relieved that she seems just as excited about the prospect of working together as I am.

"I can see it now! Partners in crime!" I joke, wondering if what I said was too ridiculous but my fears immediately disappear when she laughs.

As the bell rings for the end of lunch, signaling the start of the next class, Rachel and I part ways, promising to meet up after school to study for our upcoming English assignment together. The rest of the day goes by quickly, and as the final bell rings, signaling the end of the school day, Rachel and I meet up at our lockers to gather our things for our study session.

"I can't believe it's the first day of freshman year and they're already giving us this much homework and projects." I say as I lean my head on my locker.

"I know, right? It's like they don't want us to have any fun on our first day." Rachel chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood.

I smile back at her. "I'm definitely going to need your help with English. Cool as Mr. Blofis is, it's definitely not my strongest area.”

Rachel nods in understanding. "Don't worry, I've got your back," she says with a smile. "We can help each other out, right? That's what friends are for."

I smile at her again, feeling a warmth spread through my chest at her words. "Yeah! And if you need any help with math, let me know; it's the one subject I actually kind of understand.”

Rachel smiles gratefully at me. "Thanks, I might just take you up on that offer,"

The two of us continue chatting as we walk, discussing anything. I can't help but feel like I've known her forever. Which is probably in part since I read about her in the books.

"Oh, by the way! Where should we work on our homework and projects now that school is out for the day?" I ask.

Rachel shrugs, looking around the bustling school grounds. "I don't really have anywhere to go," she admits. "My parents work late, so I'm usually on my own after school." She looks at me hopefully. "Do you have somewhere in mind?"

"Yeah! We can work at my place if that's cool with you."

"Really?" Rachel asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "I'd love to see where you live!"

I smile, feeling a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm. "Well, it's not much, just an apartment in New York City. But yeah, come on, let's get out of here."

I and Rachel make our way through the crowded sidewalks of New York City, navigating our way through the hustle and bustle of people rushing to and from work. My apartment isn't far from the school, but it feels like forever before we finally reach it.

As I unlock the front door and step inside, I can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me as the noise seems to lessen when we get inside. The apartment is a stark contrast to the chaos of the city outside. Rachel follows me in, her eyes taking in every detail of my home. "Wow."

"Welcome to my apartment! My brother's still at school, at basketball practice. My dad's at work, and my mom is doing some grocery shopping. I texted them and let them know you'd be coming over." I tell Rachel.

Rachel nods, taking a seat on my family’s couch. "Thanks for letting me know. So, where do you want to start with our homework?"

"Why don't we start with the stuff we know is due the soonest? Don't want those deadlines to sneak up on us.” I suggest as I put down my bag.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's see... Math is due tomorrow, right? And English is due next week?"

I nod, pulling out my planner from my bag. "Yeah, we've got some time for English, but it's better to get a head start. And math is due tomorrow, so we need to focus on that first."

Rachel agrees as she pulls out her own planner from her backpack. The two of us spend the next few hours working diligently on our homework, discussing various subjects, and sharing notes as needed.

As the evening wears on, Rachel and I manage to finish all of our assigned homework. I glance at the clock on the wall.
"Wow, it's already six o'clock." I remark, looking at Rachel.

Rachel looks around my apartment, a small smile on her lips. "I can't believe how fast the time flew by," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. "Thanks for letting me come over and work with you. It was a lot more fun than I thought it would be."

I smile at her, feeling another warm glow in my chest. "No problem, Rachel. It was nice having someone to work with. And hey, maybe we can do this again sometime?"

Rachel nods enthusiastically. "Absolutely! I had a lot of fun today."

"Me too! Hey, if you want, I can ask my parents if it's cool for you to stay for dinner." I was scared that I sounded too eager or too clingy, but that quickly went away when I saw Rachel's eyes light up at my offer.

"Really? That would be great! My parents are always working late, so that would be awesome." She grins at me, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.

I smile at her, and then I hear the front door unlock; it's my mom. She walks in, a bag of groceries in her hand. She looks around the room, her eyes landing on me and Rachel. "Hi honey, I see you have a friend here," she says, her voice warm and welcoming. "Hi, Mom. Yeah, this is Rachel.” I pause before asking, "Is it cool if she stays for dinner?"

Your mom looks at you with a smile, then back at Rachel. "Of course! The more, the merrier. Rachel, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Yes, thank you!" Rachel says eagerly.

"Great!" your mom says with a smile. "Let me put these groceries away, and then I'll start cooking." She disappears into the kitchen, humming a tune as she works.

Rachel and I continue chatting animatedly about everything and nothing.

The time passes quickly, with laughter and stories filling the air. My mom emerges from the kitchen, looking pleased with herself. "Dinner is ready!" she says, setting a steaming dish on the table. It's spaghetti and meatballs, along with a side salad and garlic bread.

Rachel's eyes grow wide in delight. "It looks amazing!" she exclaims, her stomach rumbling in anticipation. I can't help but agree; my mom has a talent for making even the simplest meals taste like gourmet cuisine.

The three of us sit down at the table, filling our plates with the delicious food. My dad and brother join us for dinner not long after it’s ready. The dinner goes well, and eventually Rachel goes home, picked up by a nice-looking car.

Right, she’s super rich.

"Bye Izzy! See you tomorrow!" Rachel waved from the open window of the car.

I waved as the car drove away and turned to back to my apartment when Rachel was gone.

I still don't know if this is all some sort of dream, or what's going to happen, but I don't feel as scared as I first did. I got a feeling, everything will be ok.

Chapter Text

Life goes on, and 6 months pass. There were times when I’d even forget I was in Percy Jackson’s world.

Without a doubt, Rachel is my best friend. We talk, hang out, and tell each other things we'd never tell our parents (because who does that?). We do everything together, from required schoolwork to art for fun. I even help her with her fundraisers.

I don't see Rachel's parents as much as she sees mine, but I think they like me and my family well enough. Heck, Rachel practically lives at my apartment most of the time. My mom even got a spare toothbrush for her.

My brother would always interrupt us while we were working. Scaring us out of nowhere, causing us to make mistakes, to which we’d chase him around the apartment. We were pretty sure he was doing it on purpose. My mom would have to break us up before we caused serious damage, and Oli would always have the most irritating little brother grin when my mom would step in just before I could teach him a real lesson.

My dad was busy, but when he was around, he would always do embarrassing dad stuff when Rachel was around. Until eventually he got to treating Rachel like his own honorary daughter and would do the embarrassing dad stuff with her too.

She always acted as embarrassed as I did when my dad would pull one of his stunts, but I got the feeling she actually liked the familiarity my dad treated her with.
Everything's great. Until it isn't.

It was just a regular day. Rachel and I were doing homework in my apartment, and it was time for dinner. We waited at the table for my dad and brother to join us for dinner. They never came. For the past several hours, ever since I was doing homework, I've been feeling something, like something was off...gone, and then suddenly my ears started ringing. Not long after the ringing in my ears stopped, my mom got a phone call from the hospital and police.

My dad and brother were in a car accident.

My dad died during the ambulance ride due to issues from the wreck, and my brother, Oli, wasn't much better. He was comatose, in a vegetative state, with practically no chance of ever waking up again.
I could feel my heart stop as I heard the news. Rachel's right beside me, hugging me tightly. I know she’s there, but for some reason, I can’t feel her; I can’t feel anything. It’s like everything went quiet.
My mother is a wreck, crying uncontrollably, and I can't bring myself to comfort her. Everything's… just…numb.

The next few days are a blur.

Myself, Rachel, and some family friends help my mom with the funeral arrangements, but I feel like everything inside of me has shut down. Like there’s nothing where I’m supposed to feel…anything.

…

A week passed, and it's my father's funeral.

As I stand at the graveside, the cold wind whipping around me, I can't help but feel...nothing. My father is dead, and I feel nothing. My brother may never wake up again, and I feel nothing. I glance over at Rachel, who’s standing beside me, holding my hand tightly. I can’t bring myself to hold on as tight as her, but I don't pull away either. I see her eyes red and puffy from crying. Tears are still falling down her face.

Rachel loved—loves my dad too. I knew how she felt emotions and how she was even blunt with them. It's something I love about her. But even as I stand here, my mother, best friend, and others are crying; I don't.

Something’s wrong with me, I know it.

After the funeral, we head back to the apartment, surrounded by family and friends. Rachel is there, too, always by my side.

It's really crowded and loud with all the people, but that just might be me. I've always had sensitive senses to the point where people thought I was crazy.

I sit down, feeling uncomfortable by the noise and the crowd. Rachel notices and gently takes my hand in hers.

"Hey," she says with a small smile, her voice barely above a whisper, but I hear her perfectly fine. "We don't have to stay here if you don't want to. Let's just go somewhere quiet where we can be alone."

I nod. I always liked being alone; it was easier. I always needed a break with my social battery being drained by people. But somewhere, I don't know when it happened, being alone with Rachel was nice; she didn't drain me; she was ok just to be with me.

We both walk to my room and close the door, sealing away the noise from the rest of the apartment. I lay down on my bed, on top of the messy sheets I didn't bother to fix, feeling the familiar specific sheet textures and blankets that I personally chose because of my sensitive skin.

I stare at the ceiling.

Rachel lies down next to me, her hand finding its way to mine once again. For a while, neither of us says anything, as we just lie in silence together.

“I think something's wrong with me," I say, finally breaking the silence, my voice barely above a whisper. "My dad is dead, my brother may never wake up again, and I...feel nothing. I haven't even cried once. What kind of monster doesn't even cry at her own father's funeral?"

Rachel turns her head slightly to look at me, her brow furrowed in concern. "Hey," she says softly, squeezing my hand. "You are not a monster. You're just going through a lot right now. Grief affects everyone differently."

I know she's right. But it doesn't make me feel any better. I should be feeling something, anything, but all I can feel is this empty void in my chest where my emotions should be. I feel trapped, like I can still feel everyone inside the apartment, like they're all too close. I get up and open my window, but it doesn't help. I ask Rachel if we can go up to the roof via the fire escape; she nods.

As we climb up to the roof, the cool night air covers us. I sit down near the edge of the building, staring out at the city lights below through the barred handrails on the side. Rachel sits next to me, not saying anything, simply offering her presence. We watch as the setting sun continues to go down and eventually out of sight. The sound of the city fades into the background, and I find myself lost in my thoughts.

I know that something is wrong with me, and it scares me. I stand up and walk to the center of the roof. Finally beginning to feel something: hatred. Hatred for myself, hatred for not feeling anything despite what happened to my dad and little brother. I feel so powerless, so useless, so pathetic that I do the only thing I can do: scream.

The sound of my voice echoes across the rooftops, a primal cry of anguish and frustration.

(The ground shakes, hard.) It’s probably just in my head.

I continue screaming (not noticing the earthquake).

My feet begin to tremble more violently; I can feel the vibrations running up my legs. My stance getting weaker.

(The city around me is thrown into chaos as buildings shake and lights flicker; I notice none of it.)

I fall down to my knees and arms, still scream as I ignore the pain in my throat and the world around me as I begin hitting the ground, and again, ignoring the pain it causes to myself. I continue to scream and hurt myself.

(The building shakes violently, and cracks begin to crawl all over. I think it’s all in my head. Rachel looks around to see the same happening to several other buildings and chasms opening in the streets.
I remain oblivious to it all. Feeling nothing but self-hatred and loneliness as I continue to sink further and further away.)

Suddenly, Rachel throws herself on me from behind, wrapping me in the tightest hug. I suddenly feel something; it’s Rachel. She’s shaking and crying, then she speaks.

"I know you feel alone," she whispers into your ear, her voice shaky but determined. "But you're not. I'm right here with you. And we'll get through this together, please...don't hurt yourself."

I don't respond, but I don't fight her off either. I keep screaming, but it's more of a sad scream now, almost like an animalistic howl. (The city around me continues to shake and crack, and the ground beneath us is beginning to buckle.)

"W-What's wrong with me!? Am I broken!?" I ask desperately.

"No," Rachel whispers, shaking her head. "You're not broken. You're in pain. And that's okay; you can let it all out. It’s ok to let yourself feel. I'll be here."

With those words, I feel a surge of emotions. Emotions I hadn't felt since the news of my dad and brother. Rachel was right; I hadn’t lost my emotions; I just refused to let myself feel them.
I stop screaming (the ground stops shaking, and again I practically don't notice). But now, I’m crying loudly; tears are pouring out like a river that's not stopping no matter how much I wipe them.
I cried for the first time in what felt like forever and let myself feel everything I hadn't felt. I collapsed forward onto the ground again, sobbing uncontrollably. The pain that I had been suppressing and not feeling for so long erupts, and I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside.

Rachel holds me tightly. “I'm here..." she whispers as she cries with me.

I continue to cry, my shoulders shaking with each wracking sob. Rachel holds me tight. We stay there, not noticing that the ground stops shaking and the chasms in the streets close.
I finally calm down after a while, sniffling and wiping my tears. I look up at Rachel, more grateful for her presence than words can describe.

"Thank you," I managed to whisper.

She smiles softly and pulls me into another hug. "It's what best friends are for. I love you, Izzy."

I sniff into her shoulder as I hug her back, "I know, I love you too, Rachel."

As we both sit there on the roof, I realize something. I can feel again. I feel all of it, the sorrow, the anger, the grief, and it hurts, but it means I’m alive, and I know that, somewhere, deep down, eventually, I'll be ok.

I suddenly hear my mom yell for me several floors down in a panic. I look around, see the cracks, and realize that there really was an earthquake and that it wasn't all just in my head. I shakily stand up, my legs still trembling from the experience.

"Wait…there really was an earthquake? I thought that was all in my head." I say in shock as I look around.

"Oh no, definitely not," Rachel replies, shaking her head. "That was a pretty powerful earthquake. It’s safe to say that it definitely wasn't just in your head. Come on, let's go back inside and check on everyone; your mom is probably really worried."

We head back down the fire escape, and as we climb back into my room, I feel exhausted both physically and emotionally.

"Mom!" I managed to call.

My mom rushes into the room, her eyes wide with worry. "Oh, thank goodness," she breathes, hurrying over to me. She pulls me into a tight hug, pressing her cheek against my hair. "I was so scared. Where were you? Are you okay?"

I can see her red eyes; I can tell she was crying because of the funeral, but I can also tell she was worried about me. I told her that I was on the roof with Rachel when the earthquake hit and that I was up there because I needed some air.

"I’m so glad you’re ok; I was so scared," my mom says, her voice shaky with relief. "I didn’t know where you were; I thought that something had happened to you." She pulls away from the hug, wiping away a tear that had escaped her eye. "But I'm just glad you're safe."

I feel a surge of guilt in my gut. I had been so wrapped up in myself that I hadn’t even considered how much my mom was going through too.
I'm a horrible daughter.

I wrap my arms around my mom, apologizing again for scaring her like that. "It's okay," she says, patting my back gently. "I'm just glad you're here."

I make a silent promise to myself as I hug my mom, to not focus only on myself anymore, and be more aware of those around me. I'm not alone.

Chapter Text

A few weeks go by; I’m still not doing great, but I'm getting there. School was canceled for a bit because of the earthquake, but I still took things slow when I went back.

My mom went back to work; she was originally a dean at a university and taught music. She had an impressive resume, so getting a good job wasn't that hard. We'd need the money for Oli's hospital bills, since he required life support, and the fact that we’d need money to eat.

I think I’ve darkened a bit, but it was to be expected. Most of the people at school heard what happened to my family and were understanding, and Rachel dealt with anyone who was trying to give me any crap.

Rachel and I no longer studied or did homework together in my living room. Instead, we would do our work together in my brother's hospital room.

Oli was annoying, a pain in the butt, and never knew when to stop. But I love him and miss him. I know he probably won't wake up, but unless I visit him, I’ll never see him like I did before. Rachel would always join me on my visits. I also started to stay over more at Rachel's place, especially when my mom would work late. I could tell, though, that she was trying to be strong.

Rachel used to practically live in my apartment, and now I practically live at her mansion, which I will never get used to. Her parents were fine with me staying over when I did, mostly because they were usually out of the house more often than not.

I was starting to find a new rhythm. I’m still not better yet, though, and it shows at times. Everything still feels different. Ever since my dad died, I feel like someone’s been watching me. I never see who it is; I only feel their gaze. The strangest thing is, it doesn’t feel like a malevolent gaze; rather, it feels as though someone is observing me.

One day, during art class, I had just finished my latest piece. It's not like my other works, the ones I made before the accident. I always used so much color in my pieces, or any projects I did; they were so bright and alive. Now, I can't bring myself to use them as before. This piece is darker in color, tone, and feeling. I titled the piece "The Weight of Emotion," and it was a depiction of a girl, like myself, cradling a large, jagged boulder on her shoulders. The rock was heavy and jagged, and it seemed to be crushing her, almost to the point of breaking her. The girl was covered in cracks, as though she was crumbling, and blood was dripping out from those cracks. The girl's face is practically completely covered by her hair, except for her eyes. I painted them with hope inside, for myself, hope that I don't give up either.

I asked Rachel's opinion on the piece I made as I look at hers. Rachel stepped back from her own artwork, a beautifully intricate mosaic depicting a forest scene, and examines my latest piece. Her brow furrows in thought as she takes it all in. "It's... intense," she says finally.

"Yours is beautiful.” I tell her.

"Thank you," Rachel says, smiling appreciatively. “But I think your piece is incredible. The feelings it conveys are…wow. It might be dark, but it also shows strength."

I smile at Rachel as I notice my art teacher, Ms. Meadows, come by and look at my piece. The art teacher approaches my piece slowly, her eyes widening as she takes in the details. "Oh my," she breathes softly. "This is... powerful. Such feelings captured in one piece. It's much different from your usual work. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have taken for you to create this."

‘Only the death of my father and my brother being stuck in a coma,' I thought to myself. "Is it bad?" I ask her.

Ms. Meadows shakes her head, her gaze still fixed on the painting. "No, it's not bad. It's raw. It's... it's incredible, actually."

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she liked it. "Thank you, Ms. Meadows." I glance over at Rachel, who gives me a small smile and a thumbs-up. After class, as I’m packing up my things, Ms. Meadows approaches me again.

"Izzy," she says quietly, "I know this might not be the best time, but I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in entering your latest work in a local art show. The theme is 'Emotion,' and I think your piece would fit in perfectly."

I blink in surprise at Ms. Meadows' request but nod eagerly. "Uh-sure...!" I reply a bit shocked, taking the sheet of paper she hands me to fill out for the art show, which I quickly fill out before leaving. "Thank you again, Ms. Meadows."

Ms. Meadows smiles lightly, “You're welcome, Izzy. I can't wait to see your work on display."

As I walk out of the classroom, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. On one hand, I’m glad that Ms. Meadows thinks it’s good enough for a show. On the other hand, I’m anxious about what people might think or say about my art.

I decide to focus on the positive and push aside my worries for now.

The day goes by slowly, and eventually it’s time for lunch. When I enter the cafeteria, I spot Rachel waving at me from across the room. I make my way over to her.

"Hey, Rach," I greeted her with a small smile. She smiles back, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Hey, Izzy! Guess what?" She asks eagerly, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is it? Did you hear about a new topic you just have to make another fundraiser for?" I tease, taking a seat next to her at one of the lunch tables.

Rachel giggles, her cheeks flushing slightly. "No, not exactly," she says, her eyes darting around the cafeteria before leaning in close to you. "I met someone new," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper.

I blink in surprise, my heart skipping a beat.

"You got a crush?" I ask, wondering if that’s why she’s blushing.

It seems I was right because Rachel's cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, and she nods vigorously. "Yeah, I do! His name is Grover Underwood, and he's the cutest thing I've ever seen!"

I feel my heart skip a beat again. The Grover Underwood is here? The last time he was at a school was because of Percy. But Percy doesn't exist, so why is he here? Is he here for another demigod? Maybe for Rachel because of her clear-sightedness? Maybe she’s a demigod?

All the possibilities run through my mind, but I’m snapped out of it when Rachel talks again, her voice pulling me back to the present.

“He's so cute and nice and funny! I think I might be in love," she says, her eyes shining brightly.

I can't help but smile at her dramatic side. "How'd you meet him?"

Rachel's face breaks into a grin, and she eagerly starts telling me about her encounter with Grover. She leaves no details out, from how he looks to what he said. I could definitely tell this was THE Grover Underwood.

"Anyway, we started talking about all kinds of things, and...we really got along, and then he asked if he could join me for lunch."

Oh great, I know where this is going.

“You invited Grover to join us for lunch, didn’t you?” I ask with a flat expression.

Rachel nods eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, I did! He seems super nice, and I'm sure you'll like him too!"

I force a smile onto my face, trying to hide my annoyance at the idea of spending time with someone I don't really know. Yeah, I knew him from the books, but I wasn’t feeling like expanding my social circle. I try to look at the positives.

“Sure, I guess. As long as I'm not third-wheeling the whole time.” I say with a coy smile. I can't help but wonder why Grover approached Rachel. I also can't believe she has a crush on Grover; out of all the things that were different in this world compared to the books, this one takes the cake.

Rachel giggles at my comment, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Don't worry, I won't let you be the third wheel."

Then, the man who you need not have a hard time finding, the guy on crutches himself, Grover, shows up.

Rachel calls out to him, and he sees us.

I greet Grover with a nod.

He smiles shyly and takes a seat across from us. "Hey, guys. Thanks for letting me join you guys," he says, his voice just a little bit deeper than I expected.

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "No problem. We were just about to eat anyway." I glance at my lunch, the same regular sandwiches and packaged fruit. Rachel, on the other hand, is beaming at Grover, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

I clear my throat, trying to get their attention. I might as well try to see why he’s here, even if he probably won’t tell the full truth. “Grover, how'd you end up at Goode High School? Don't think I've seen you before? I'm guessing it's not just for the cafeteria lunches and half-expired vending machine food," I say, half-joking.

Rachel laughs at my comment, while Grover looks a bit taken aback but quickly answers.

"Oh, well, it's not just for the food," he says, chuckling. "I actually moved here not long after that freak earthquake happened. Do you guys know anything about it? Everyone is saying that it came out of nowhere!”

I feel my mood go down, and I go silent. The only thing I remember when I think of the earthquake is that it happened the day of my dad’s funeral and how my emotions hit me harder than an isekai truck. I don't like talking or thinking about it. Rachel notices and goes silent as well, trying to play it off.

"Oh, um...no, I don’t really know much about the earthquake," Rachel says, trying to fill the sudden awkward silence. "But it's over now." She says she's trying to end it, but Grover doesn't let it go.

"Yeah, but not before it left a lot of damage and mysteries behind," he says, his brow furrowing slightly. "I mean, I don't know much about earthquakes, but it just seems weird that a magnitude 7 earthquake would happen without any warning. Heck, I heard there were even chasms that closed! How does that even happen?"

I take a breath and shake my head slightly, trying to clear it. "I don't know," I say finally, my voice sounding distant and down.

Grover looks like he's about to say something else, but before he can, Rachel interrupts him and asks to talk with him. She gets up and practically drags Grover away on his crutches to a corner of the cafeteria.

I know what Rachel's doing; she's telling him about how my dad's funeral was on the day of the earthquake, and I can also tell she's telling him to be careful what he says. I love that about Rachel; even though she has a crush on this guy, I’m glad she has my back. I watch as Grover's eyes widen in realization as he looks at me and then quickly looks away when we make eye contact as he responds to Rachel.

I sigh and take a bite of my sandwich, trying to ignore the feeling in my stomach. It's always like this, people talking about things like this, not like they have anything better to talk about; it just brings up memories that bring me down. The only good thing that happened was that I was finally able to feel something and that Rachel was there for me. As I continue eating, I notice Rachel and Grover returning from their conversation. Rachel looks a bit embarrassed, probably because she realized she went all protective bestie for me, which I really appreciate, while Grover seems to be deep in thought.

He approaches the table, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "I'm really sorry if I brought up any bad memories earlier."

“It's cool, I get it, freak earthquake, who wouldn't be curious?" I say simply.

Rachel nods in agreement, her expression still a bit sheepish. She takes a deep breath, then glances at her watch. "Oh, shoot! I totally forgot I had to leave early! I've got to go!" Rachel's next class is on the other side of the school, so she always leaves lunch early.

I chuckle and yell a bit as she leaves, "Be sure not to let Dr. Boring catch you running!"

I turn my attention back to Grover, who seems to be deep in thought. I can tell he's still a bit hesitant to speak, but he does eventually.

"Again, I’m really sorry about earlier. I guess I can understand why you might not want to talk about it." He looks at me earnestly, his brow furrowed in concern. I shrug nonchalantly, trying to hide any residual discomfort.

I say it's fine and ask about his class schedule in an attempt to change the subject.

Grover nods, seeming relieved at my response. He pulls out his schedule, and it turns out we have the exact same schedule.

"Huh, what are the odds?" I say, slightly shocked, knowing this is probably not a coincidence.

"Apparently not that low," Grover chuckles. "Guess we'll be hanging out more often." He glances at me, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, I guess so," I say, realizing just how much time I’m going to be spending with this guy. Which will be good for Rachel, since she has a crush on him.

The rest of the day goes by, and now it's over. Finally the weekend is here! I’m walking out of school with Rachel and Grover. We stayed pretty late after we decided to study in the library, when all of a sudden we heard a loud screech-like sound and saw a small black fuzz ball fall on the ground in front of us.

I gasp and jump back, my eyes widening in surprise. Rachel and Grover do the same, their expressions mirroring mine.

"What the—? Is that a baby crow? … Raven?" I ask as I tilt my head and lean down to inspect the small, fluffy creature more closely.

“Definitely a raven.” Grover says.

It's black and small, with tiny wings folded against its body. I see blood coming out of one of its small legs; it’s injured.

"Oh crap! Rachel! Do you still have that shoebox in your locker?" I ask her quickly.

"Yeah, I do!" Rachel replies, her eyes wide with concern and understanding. "I'll go grab it right now." She rushes off, leaving me and Grover to watch the injured creature.

I crouch down next to it, carefully trying to examine it without touching it, since it’s kind of known not to touch injured wild animals. I take off my jacket in preparation to carefully pick up the baby bird for when Rachel returns.

As we wait for Rachel to come back, the small bird starts to move, shifting its weight slightly as if trying to stand up.

“Hey now, little guy, you may not want to move too much,” Grover tells the young bird, but the raven seems to ignore Grover, which seems to shock him.

I watch it curiously, wondering if it's trying to get away or if it's just instinct kicking in. It almost gets up but looks like it's about to fall again. In a quick reflex panic, I quickly slide my jacket under the bird so it falls on the fabric instead of the hard concrete floor.

Rachel returns with the shoe box, and I carefully scoop it up with my jacket, being careful not to hurt it anymore, and place it gently in the box. "I'm going to take this little guy to a vet; I want to make sure he'll be ok.” I say as I gently lift the small, fluffy creature into the shoebox, I can't help but feel a strange connection with it. I feel like it's fate or something. As if this small creature was meant to cross paths with me. I shake my head slightly, chiding myself for my ridiculous drama filled thought. Rachel has seriously rubbed off on me. Still, I can't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards the injured bird.

Rachel nods in agreement, her expression serious. "I'll go with you!"

Grover tags along as well. The three of us make our way to the nearest vet clinic, the box containing the small black fuzzball nestled gently in my arms. The vet examines the bird, feeling its tiny body for any broken bones or other injuries. After a bit, he looks up at us, a small smile on his face.

"Good news," he says. "The little raven seems to have only a minor fracture in one of his legs. With proper care and rest, I believe he will make a full recovery. You can take it home and nurse it back to health."

I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the vet. Rachel and Grover nod in agreement, their faces filled with relief as well. We thank the vet and leave the clinic.
Me, Rachel, and Grover decide to head back to my place to set up a care area for the small creature in my room.

"Is your mom going to be cool with this?" Grover asks.

"She usually doesn't get home till super late, and I'll probably take the little guy to a wildlife care center, where he can get proper care soon." I reply.

When we get to my apartment, I unlock the door and lead the way up to my room.

“So, what are we going to call him?" Rachel asks as she follows me into my room, Grover close behind.

I look around and notice a picture of Baltimore, Maryland, where my mom visited. "Uh…how about Baltimore?"

Rachel and Grover exchange puzzled glances before looking at me.

"Well, why not?" Rachel says with a smile and shrug, deciding to go with it, "That's a pretty cool name for a bird." She grins, plopping down on my bed next to me.

Grover chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "Guess it is," he agrees, sitting down on the floor next to the bed.

"So, what now? How do we take care of him?" Rachel asks as I carefully place the shoebox on my bed, opening it up to reveal the small, fluffy-feathered creature inside.

"Well, I guess we follow the instructions the vet gave us, and then we'll take the little guy to a wildlife center before the weekend ends." I say.

Grover and Rachel nod in agreement, listening intently as Rachel reads through the instructions from the vet. “Okay, so we need to feed him small insects like mealworms or crickets and give him water from a shallow dish."

"And we need to make sure he stays warm and has a place to rest," I add, recalling the vet's instructions. "I think we can handle that."

Grover nods in agreement, his face serious.

The three of us spend some time setting up a small care area for the injured bird in my room, following the instructions from the vet to the letter. We make a small enclosure using a cardboard box lined with soft cloth and find a small dish for water and some mealworms. When we finish, we all gather around the small enclosure, watching as Baltimore, the injured bird, looks around his new living space.

Suddenly, I hear the front door opening. My mom is back. I look over at my clock and realize how late it is. "Oh crap! It's really late! Do your guys' parents know you're here?"

Rachel shrugs, "My parents are always busy, plus they know by now that I'm always with you," she admits, and I agree. All our parents had basically come to the conclusion that if they did not see their kids, odds are they were with the other.

Grover nods, "I'm good too."

"I'm going to go see how my mom is and talk to her. Can you guys watch Baltimore for a sec?" I ask them.

Rachel and Grover nod in agreement as I head out of my room to greet my mom. When I approach her, I see that she's on the phone, her expression serious. I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I should interrupt or not. Before I can make up my mind, my mom notices me standing there and waves me over impatiently.

She hangs up the phone and turns to me, "Hey, Izzy."

"Are you okay, Mom?" I ask her worriedly.

She sighs, running a hand through her hair in a tired gesture. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweetie. Just got some bad news, that's all." She shakes her head, as if to clear it of the thoughts that were clouding her mind.

"What happened, Mom?" I ask, starting to feel a bit nervous.

My mom looks at me for a moment, her expression softening slightly.

"It's okay, sweetie. I just got news that my job may be in jeopardy. The university is making budget cuts, and they might have to let some people go." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

She looked really worried, so I tried to cheer her up, "Don't worry! You've said it yourself! You're the best at your job! There's no way they'd fire you. If they do, they're stupid, and you could probably get an even better job." I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

My mom chuckles softly at my attempt to reassure her, reaching out to hug me. "Thanks, sweetie." She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're right. I shouldn’t be worried." She sighs, "I guess I've just been letting stress get to me. How was your day? You're up pretty late, though I guess it is the weekend."

"About that...don’t get upset, but...there's a baby Raven and a boy in my room, plus Rachel, but she's always there." I say a bit quickly.

My mom raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the news. "A baby raven? And a boy? In your room?" She asks, her tone a mixture of amusement and concern, “I hope everything is okay."

"Oh, yeah, totally! It's just that we met Grover today, and as we were leaving school, we saw a little raven fall in front of us. We took him to the vet; he said he was good besides a small leg injury, so we took him here. Don't worry, we'll take him to the wildlife care center before the weekend ends." I explain, a bit hastily.

My mom nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, I'm glad to hear that you're all taking care of each other. And it's good to know that there are still some kind-hearted kids out there." She says, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Don't stay up too late now, ok?" She tells me.

I nod, tell her I love her, and head back to my room. I find Rachel and Grover still sitting by the enclosure, watching over Baltimore.

"Hey, how did it go with your mom?" Rachel asks, turning to look at me.

"I think everything's alright; she didn't freak out over having a baby, Raven, and a boy here at least." I say with a shrug and a smile.

We share a small laugh.

"Good to know," Rachel says with a smile. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow? We need to take this little guy to the wildlife center, right?"

But before I can say anything, we hear Grover let out a small yelp, and Baltimore starts squawking and chirping.

I look over, my eyes widening in surprise when I see that Baltimore has managed to stand up on his own, his wings flapping frantically.

“Wow!" I yell," I say, taking a step closer to the enclosure. "He's standing already!" I turn to Rachel and Grover, a grin spreading across my face. "Oh wait! He shouldn't be doing that; it could be bad for his injury."

Rachel and Grover exchange a worried look before Grover speaks up. "Maybe we should...I don't know, let him rest or something?" He suggests moving closer to the enclosure. But Baltimore starts flying! Even though he shouldn't be able to! Seriously, what's up with this bird?

I gasp in surprise as Baltimore takes off, his wings flapping furiously. The bird soars through the air, landing gracefully on top of my dresser. We try to encourage the little guy to rest, but he keeps flying away!

"Maybe we should try to catch him?" Rachel suggests, frowning in concentration as she watches the bird fly around the room. "I mean, we can't just let him keep flying like this, right?"

“Yeah, you're right," I agree, then step forward to join them. I honestly don't understand how an injured baby fledgling raven could have so much energy. The three of us begin chasing Baltimore, who we all can tell is having way too much fun with this. Eventually he does settle down, but not before exhausting all three of us to the point where we all pass out on the floor.

I wake up to the sound of the city and the sun streaming in through the curtains. I rub my eyes and stretch, realizing that I must have fallen asleep on the floor last night. I look around to see Grover and Rachel asleep as well, splayed out much like myself. I smile a bit before waking them up.

They blink groggily, eyes still half-closed with sleep, and yawn widely as they try to sit up. "Morning." Rachel says as she yawns.

"Morning,” I say as I rub my eyes. “Man, Baltimore really gave us a run for our money."

Rachel and Grover chuckle softly, rubbing their eyes as they get up too. "Yeah, he sure did," Rachel agrees, stretching her arms overhead before wincing slightly. "But at least he's okay, right?"

I agree with her before looking in the enclosure/box and seeing Baltimore's bandage and splint on the bottom but no Baltimore.

I glance around the room. "Hey, where's Baltimore? Didn't he fly back to his enclosure or something?" I ask, looking at Rachel and Grover with a puzzled expression. Rachel shrugs, shaking her head.
I turn around and see Baltimore sleeping on my bed. I laugh, shaking my head as I walk over to the bed. "I guess he recognizes comfort when he sees it," I say, reaching out to gently pick up the little bird. “Why'd you take off your splint? Don't you need it to get better ?" I say softly, cradling him in my hands.

As if almost in response to my question, Baltimore flies out of my hands and begins walking around my room proudly.

"What the—? How is he fine? The vet said that splint should've stayed there for at least 3 weeks." I ask, completely dumbfounded.

Rachel and Grover exchange confused looks with each other, just as shocked as me.

“I don't know," Rachel says, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe he's just really tough or something."

Just then, Baltimore flies back over to me, landing on my shoulder.

"Hey there, little buddy. Are you okay now? You're a tough raven, you know that?" I ask the small bird.

Baltimore lets out a raven sound softly, nudging his head against my cheek affectionately as he stands on my shoulder. I can't help but smile at the little guy, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over me.

"Yeah, you're a tough cookie," I tell him, ruffling his feathers gently.

Rachel and Grover laugh softly, watching as I interact with the little raven.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing he's not in the enclosure anymore," Rachel says, walking over to join me. "Do you think he'll be okay to go back into the wild?"

"I guess since he's all healed up, he should be able to go on his own now; he may not even need the wildlife care center." I responded.

Grover nods in agreement. "He really does seem all better now."

I bring Baltimore over to my window and open it so he can fly away. He does, but as soon as I turn my back, I hear him land on my windowsill. I look over at Rachel and Grover, who are both stunned for a moment before they begin laughing.

"Guess he's not quite ready to leave just yet," Rachel says with a smile.

"He likes you, Izzy," Grover says, grinning. "He knows you'll take good care of him."

I laugh too, shaking my head. As I laugh, I look at the time and realize it's already noon! We definitely slept in. I remember that my self-defense class is starting soon!

"Oh shoot! I'm going to be late!" I say in a panic.

"Late for what?" Grover asks, but I’m already rushing, grabbing my stuff and heading to the bathroom. Luckily, Rachel is there to explain.

I quickly throw on some clothes and brush my teeth, and I hear Rachel tell Grover about my self-defense classes.

"Izzy's been taking Krav Maga since she moved to New York," Rachel explains. “Her parents wanted her to know how to defend herself after they all moved to a big city. It's also kind of like a way for him to blow off some steam, you know?"

Grover nods, looking a bit surprised. "Wow, so she knows how to fight?"

When I finally emerge from the bathroom, I’m relieved to see that it's only ten minutes till the class starts. I can make it if I run; luckily, it's not too far from my apartment. I sprint out of the apartment building, but before that I say bye to Rachel and Grover and overhear them talking about going to a cafe just the two of them.

I smile for Rachel, since she's getting some one-on-one time with the guy she likes. As I run down the street, I see Baltimore flying next to me, and it makes me laugh.

I don't mind this, not at all.

Chapter Text

Time moves on; I shouldn't be surprised—it waits for no one. I still feel down when I think about my dad or visit Oli, but it's getting better. Things have been pretty normal, with the exception of seeing a few strange things once in a while.

School's alright, and then the craziest thing happened.

One day when I was heading over to Latin class, which I took in middle school but don't really remember a whole lot, I noticed that my Latin teacher, Mr. Gio's, nameplate was gone. I remember that he said he was leaving—rather suddenly—and would be replaced. I asked my classmates if they knew who the new Latin teacher would be.

Most of my classmates shrug or look blank, not seeming to know anything about it. However, when he does show up, my heart almost stops. It wasn't the fact that he was in a wheelchair, no, it was who he introduced himself as: Mr. Brunner.

A middle-aged man from the waist up, with thinning brown hair, bushy eyebrows, intense brown eyes, and a short, scruffy beard.

There's no way he's who I think he is, right? I mean, his lower half does look pretty human.

But my nervous denials can't smother my suspicions or confusion. According to the books, he only showed up for Percy, but if Percy's not here, then what's he doing here?

I have too many questions that I probably can't ask him, so instead I try to just focus on the class, which was actually easier than I thought. He's—unironically—a really great teacher.

Class ends uneventfully, much to my relief, and I go to leave when I can't shake the feeling that Mr. Brunner is watching me. I turn around, but he's turned back to his desk, busying himself with some paperwork.

I shrug it off, blaming it on paranoia, and head out, trying not to let the strange feeling linger.

It didn’t take long for Mr. Brunner to become one of my favorite teachers, and Grover has officially squeezed his way into my friendship with Rachel, turning our duo into a trio. It was pretty easy considering Rachel's crush on him. Speaking of which, I can't tell if Grover knows she has feelings for him or if he's just that dense.

Baltimore has officially made himself a member of the Mira family. After sticking around and getting on my mom's good side, she allowed me to keep him. He's way too smart for his own good, but he's awesome and a lot bigger now, around the size of a big crow.

My art is still with me. I’m able to paint brighter pieces sometimes, but I still mostly paint pieces like "The Weight of Emotion."

Speaking of that piece, it did so well it was sent to a major art competition to be judged! I get the results today! On the last day of school! For me and Rachel, anyway, we both exempted our exams so we could get out even earlier; somehow Grover did too. I have the letter in my hands, Rachel and Grover are sitting beside me on the couch, and my mom is there too.

“Gahh! I can't do this! It's too nerve-wracking! Rachel, you open it!" I quickly hold the letter towards Rachel, who takes the letter from my hands, carefully opening it.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she pulls out the folded piece of paper inside. She reads it aloud, her voice shaking, "Your art piece 'The Weight of Emotion' has been chosen as one of the top entries in this year's competition." She says with wide eyes.

"What?!" I shout, jumping up from the couch. My heart is pounding in my chest as I stare at Rachel, who looks just as shocked as I feel.

My mom hugs me tightly, congratulating me on my achievement. "I knew you could do it, honey."

"Izzy!" Rachel squeals, jumping up and down.

"This is amazing! We have to celebrate!" Grover shares in the excitement as I, he, and Rachel have a group hug.

"Thank you guys so much!” I say, still in shock. "I can't believe it. We should definitely celebrate. What should we do?“

Rachel claps her hands together excitedly. "I know! How about we go to the park? We could have a picnic!"

Grover nods in agreement. "Sounds like an awesome plan!"

I turn to my mom, "Can we, Mom? Please?"

My mom smiles at us, "Of course, honey. Go have fun."

Me, Rachel, and Grover begin preparing for our impromptu park picnic. I help Rachel pack the food, while Grover packs up some drinks: water bottles and canned soda. We all pile into the car and drive to the park. My mom drops us off, and the three of us find a nice spot to sit down and eat.

The park is bustling with activity, but we manage to find a quiet corner near a small stream. We spread out a blanket and unpack the food, a small feast of sandwiches and fruit.

The sun hangs low as we all enjoy our picnic, casting a warm glow over everything.

"This is perfect," Rachel says, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"I'm so glad we decided to do this." Grover nods in agreement, his mouth full of chips.

I smile as I know one more friend is probably around too. I put a blackberry in my hand and hold it to the side and speak up loud enough to be heard, “Such a shame Baltimore isn't here to enjoy these delicious berries, nuts, and seeds! Guess we’ll have to eat them all up!" And as soon as I say the words, I see a black flash fly past me, the blackberry disappear, and Baltimore in front of me on the blanket eating the berry he took from my hand.

We all turn to see Baltimore, looking quite smug as he then makes a sound indicating that he wants more. We all laugh, and I make a small plate with nuts, berries, and seeds for Baltimore.

The three of us finish up our meal and relax on the blanket.

"Can't believe school is over now, for us anyway." I remark.

Rachel nods in agreement, lying down on the blanket with her head propped up on her arm.

"Yeah, it's hard to believe." She glances at me and smiles. "But we still have our trip!"

Grover looks over at us. "Your trip?"

We both turn our heads.

I’m honestly surprised he doesn't know, "Yeah, wait. Did Rachel not tell you?"

Rachel looks between the two of us, her cheeks slightly reddening. “Well... umm... I may have forgotten to tell him."

Grover raises an eyebrow. "Forget to tell me what?"

I laugh a bit teasingly at Rachel, "Don't worry, nothing bad. Rachel and I are going to spend a few weeks in Montauk in her family's summer cabin, and by summer cabin I mean summer villa."

Grover listens, and his eyes widen in surprise. "Montauk? That's a bit far, isn't it?"

"Only two hours-ish. It took forever for my mom to ok the trip." I say as I roll my eyes back.

Rachel chuckles softly. "Yeah, your mom is pretty protective of you. I'm glad she finally agreed. It's going to be a blast, plus my parents will be so busy we'll practically have the place to ourselves!"

"Yeah, I know, right? But hey, at least we're going." I look over at Grover, who seems a bit distant, lost in thought. "Hey, are you okay, Grover?"

He looks at me, snapping out of his thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about something." He shrugs, trying to play it off cool. But I can tell there's more to it than that.

We finish up our picnic, clean up, say goodbye to each other, and head home.

I head to bed and drift off eventually. I've been having dreams. After my dad died, I began dreaming of how he died; it was a nightmare that haunted me. Then, I started dreaming of everyone I cared about dying as well. I never told anyone about them, but the dreams didn't happen as much recently; I took it as a good sign.

Morning came, and I packed for the trip with Rachel.

I put everything in my duffle bag backpack. We’re going to be in Montauk for a while, so we pack everything. Even Baltimore helps; honestly, that raven is way too smart.

"I can't believe it's finally here, Izzy! We're really going on our trip!" Rachel bounces around my room, practically vibrating with anticipation.

I share in her excitement. "Yeah, I know! It's going to be amazing! You have everything packed, right?"

Rachel nods enthusiastically. "Yes, I'm all packed! And the car will be here in about half an hour."

I feel relieved that everything is on schedule. As we wait for the car to arrive, I decide to bring up Rachel's crush on Grover: "So, are you going to tell Grover how you feel anytime soon?"

Rachel blushes slightly, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. "I don't know...things are fine right now. I don't want to mess anything up. But enough about Grover!" Rachel says, for once, "We have our trip, and it's going to be the most fun and fantastic summer trip ever! I've got a whole movie selection lined up and we'll finally get you a celebrity crush."

I shrug at the mention of "crush." I’ve never really been good at that, having a crush, I mean. I’ve never had crushes the way Rachel has, and I’ve never found people attractive the way it’s described in movies and books. I sometimes wonder if something's wrong with me, but my mom says I’m young, only 13, and that it'll happen eventually.

A car horn beeps outside, signaling the car’s arrival.

Rachel smiles brightly, grabbing her bag and heading towards the door. "Come on, let's go! We have a summer adventure waiting for us!"

I follow her out of the apartment, feeling excited!

We pile into the luxurious car, the leather seats feeling cool and smooth against my skin. The driver, a middle-aged man with a kind face, greets us both warmly before putting our bags in the trunk.

Rachel asks, "Is Baltimore around?"

"Yep, right above us probably.” I close my eyes and call his name, and just like that, Baltimore lands on my shoulder.

"Wow, I’ll never get tired of how well he listens to you." Rachel says, her eyes wide with amazement. "He really does follow you everywhere.”

"Yeah, but I don't think he'll be able to fly all the way to Montauk.” I say as I look at my bird.

Baltimore looks out at the distance and then at the car before looking at me and Rachel, squawking once or twice as if considering his options.

I chuckle softly, running a hand through his feathers. "I think he's asking to come along. Is that cool with you, Rachel?"

Rachel looks at us with a big smile. "Yeah! You know I love Baltimore. I wonder how he'll react to Montauk." She giggles, reaching out to gently ruffle Baltimore's feathers. The raven seems to relax under her touch, his eyes closing as if content.

Besides me, Baltimore rarely lets anyone touch him, with the exception of my mom and Rachel. Even Grover and vets have a hard time touching him without getting scratched, pecked, or bitten.

As the car continues on its journey, me and Rachel chat about our plans and the upcoming trip.

After a while, the car pulls up to a large, rustic villa nestled in Montauk, surrounded by plenty of forest trees, but in the distance the sounds of the ocean could be heard.

The driver had received a sudden call and said he had to leave right away. Rachel and I were fine; we got to take some cool pictures for art references. But we didn't get as many as we would've liked.

Out of nowhere a major storm rolled in. Forcing Rachel and me to rush inside the villa with our bags before the storm soaked us completely.

We made it inside the cabin with minimal soaking.

“Phew! Glad we made it before the storm hit." I let out a large breath as Baltimore shook his feathers like a dog.

Rachel nods, panting slightly from the rush. "Yeah, it's going to be quite a storm. Hopefully, it won't last too long." She looks around the cozy living room, taking in the warmth of the fireplace. "So, what do you want to do first?"

But before I respond, we hear a loud crash of thunder; the storm is really coming down. Both of us jump; even Baltimore seems on edge.

I glance out the window, watching as the rain pounds down on the villa's roof. The storm seems to be getting worse by the minute.

"How about we try watching one of those movies you talked about in the car?" I suggest.

Rachel nods in agreement, her eyes lighting up at the mention of movies. "I've always wanted to watch that movie about the kids who go to a wizarding school. You know, the one with the boy who can fly on a broomstick?"

“All right! Let's get some snacks and do it!" I cheer.

As the storm rages on outside, we settle in with a bowl of popcorn and a cozy blanket on the couch. We fumble through the DVD collection until we find the movie Rachel mentioned and pop it into the player.

The opening credits begin to roll, and we both lean back into the cushions of the couch, ready to relax. But the movie doesn’t get too far in when we hear a loud bang coming from the door.

"Did you hear that?" I ask Rachel, who looks at me, nodding slowly, eyes wide with concern.

"I don't know who it is, my parents said they wouldn't be here for a while, but we should probably see who it is." She gets up from the couch and slowly makes her way towards the door with a blue hairbrush in her hand.

I slowly walk behind her, with Baltimore on my shoulder, ready to help and worst-case scenario, put my self-defense lessons into use.

Rachel slowly unlocks the door only for a figure to push it open very fast, scaring me, Rachel, and Baltimore quite severly!

Baltimore flies at the figure, disorienting the intruder. Rachel screams, closes her eyes, and chucks her blue hairbrush at the figure, and I kick them in the gut, forcing them to the ground.

When we hear the figure groan in a familiar voice, we get closer and realize the mystery intruder is Grover! And he's...half goat! He really is a satyr!

Both I and Rachel, and even Baltimore, are very shocked by the sight in front of us, only snapping out of it when we hear Grover groan again.

Rachel gasps, "You’re...you’re a satyr!" Her hand flies to her mouth in shock. She recognizes satyrs from my Latin homework.

I’m shocked as well, not by him being a satyr—I knew that—but by the fact that he was here.

"Grover! What are you doing here?!" I asked him.

Grover continues to groan as he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wincing slightly from the pain.

"I...I had to find you," he replies, his voice strained. "It's urgent. You need to come with me."

He looks at both of us, his eyes pleading. We both hesitate for a moment, exchanging.

"Hold on! Explanation first: you show up out of nowhere, scare the crap out of us, and then just expect us to follow you blindly?! When were you going to tell us you were half goat!? And how did you even find us!?" I demand, honestly, he scared the crap out of us.

Grover looks at me like he’s about to cry, "I know, I know. I'm sorry for scaring you. And as for how I found you...I followed your scent. It led me here." He hesitates for a moment before continuing, “And about my appearance..."

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You're a satyr, so basically you're half goat. That doesn't explain why we should follow you." I say flatly. Grover looks at us again, his expression serious. "I know it doesn't. But I'm here because it's important."

Rachel speaks up, "Uh! Being half goat seems pretty important to me!"

Grover is about to respond, but then he looks shocked. "Wait, Rachel, you can see my goat legs?" He asks, sounding surprised.

Rachel looks at him, her eyes wide. "Uh, yeah. It's not like I didn't notice when you first came in." She frowns, a little annoyed that he hadn't mentioned it before now, “Why didn't you say anything?" She asks him. Grover looks at her, his expression contrite.

"I'm sorry, it’s just...it's not something I usually bring up with mortals." He pauses for a moment, then he looks like he's noticed something and then gets scared, "We have to leave!" He says in a panic, I’m about to argue, but he cuts you off, "Please! You can ask me all the questions you want later, but we have to leave now!" He looks at the both of us desperately; something's up, so reluctantly we agree.

"Fine, Rachel, let's grab our bags.” I say, giving in.

As I go to grab my bag, I can't help but feel a sense of unease about the situation. Grover seems genuinely scared, and his urgency only adds to my concern. I threw my bag over my shoulder and hurried back downstairs, followed by Rachel, who also grabbed her bag.

Grover asks if we have a car we can use. Rachel opens a drawer and says there's a car parked behind the villa, but neither of us has a license (I’m 13 and Rachel’s 14). But Grover grabs the keys from Rachel's hands and says he'll drive.

We head towards the car; the rain continues to pound down on the pavement, making the already slippery roads even more treacherous.

I slide in the backseat with Baltimore, and Rachel gets in the passenger's seat as Grover hastily begins starting the car and driving away as fast as possible, jerking us around.

I cling to the seats trying to steady myself, and I can't help but worry about what's gotten Grover so worked up. The rain pelts the car, creating a cacophony of noise that makes it hard to think. I glance over at Rachel, who looks just as worried as me.

"Grover, what’s going on!?" I shout as I catch Baltimore, who almost flew into the back of the front seat.

Grover looks over his shoulder at me, his expression tense. "We don't have much time," he says urgently, "we need to get to Camp Half-Blood."

I freeze, completely silent.

"Camp what now!?" Rachel shouts.

Grover's expression tightens even more. "Camp Half-Blood," he repeats. "It's a camp for demigods like Izzy. We'll be safe there."

I share a shocked and confused glance with Rachel before speaking again to Grover, “I’m not a demigod!?” I shout in confusion.

Grover shakes his head. "I know you don't believe me, but it's true. You're a demigod, Izzy, a powerful one most likely." He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

Me and Rachel exchange a look of shock, not sure how to process this new information.

“How is that even possible?" Rachel asks, her voice shaking slightly. Grover’s expression turns even more serious.

"We were sent here to investigate," he says. "A while ago, when we felt that ginormous earthquake, a powerful scent could be traced. But then, it mysteriously weakened, which was strange because of how strong it was. When we got closer, we realized that the scent was coming from you, Izzy, but we could tell you didn't know what you were; that's why your scent wasn’t as strong."

I’m about to say something, but Rachel beats me to it: "So that's why you approached us? You were investigating Izzy?" She says, almost sounding hurt, I realize how Rachel must be feeling very hurt, especially since she has, or maybe had now, a crush on Grover.

Grover looks at Rachel, his expression filled with regret. "I'm sorry, Rachel," he says softly. "But I had to."

Rachel looks away, her cheeks flushing slightly as she bites her lip.

Out of nowhere something massive hits the car, causing it to crash into a tree.

Rachel and I scream as we’re thrown around in our seatbelts, the impact jarring our entire bodies. The car comes to a halt, lands against a tree, and we can hear the sound of crumpling metal and breaking glass. I might’ve blacked out if it wasn’t for Baltimore keeping me awake with his light pecking.

I look around, my heart racing in my chest. The car's badly damaged, with the front end completely smashed in and smoke coming out—not a good sign. I can hear Rachel breathing heavily and quickly.

"Rachel! Grover! Can you guys move?! We need to get out of here!" I shout in a panic.

Rachel shakes her head, her hair flying wildly around her face. "I'm not sure if I can move," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

I hear a soft thudding sound coming from the front of the car, and I realize it's coming from Grover. He got out of the car and opened the doors for me and Rachel.

I gather my strength as I unbuckle my seatbelt and force myself to move, pushing against the crumpled metal that now forms the door. I manage to wiggle out of the car, with Grover’s help, wincing at the pain in my shoulder.

I go to help Rachel with Grover, and we get her out. Baltimore lands on her shoulder, seemingly just as concerned about her as me and Grover are.

We look around, trying to figure out what happened.

A loud, almost roar-like sound goes off, Grover grabs our hands and begins running, pulling us along.

We all stumble through the trees, our hearts pounding in our chests. The rain has let up some, but the ground is still slick and muddy from the downpour. I can hear the sound of footsteps behind us, growing louder with every step.

I hear Rachel shout, "Is that a freaking Mino-!?"

“Don’t say his name! Names have power!” Grover cuts off Rachel’s panicked shout with one of his own. I turn my head back and see that the beast chasing us is indeed the Minotaur.

The monster lets out a bloodcurdling roar, its horns glistening in the dim light. I glance over at Grover, who looks just as scared as I feel. He nods grimly, then turns and starts running again, somehow even faster, practically dragging me and Rachel.

"We're almost at the boundaries!" Grover yells, but as we’re running, the Minotaur is suddenly right behind us. Grover pushes me and Rachel in different directions and then himself to dodge the Minotaur. It works, but then the beast focuses its sights on the one closest to him: Rachel.

I cry out in fear as the Minotaur charges towards Rachel, its horns glistening in the dim light. Suddenly, a blur of motion catches my eye—it's Grover, running interference between Rachel and the beast.

He grabs Rachel in his arms and tries to run and protect her, and all I can do is watch as the Minotaur slams into Grover, sending both him and Rachel flying through the air, landing with a hard crash on the ground.

Rachel screams with terror, and I can't believe what I’m seeing—Grover lying motionless on the ground, his arms still wrapped around Rachel.

The Minotaur begins to charge at Rachel and Grover again. It's just like my dreams; the people I love are going to die right in front of me, and I can't do anything…

No.

I won't let them die!

I gather what courage I have and get up. I scream as I hit the ground and run towards the monster, and suddenly it begins to shake. The ground beneath the Minotaur splits open, and jagged rocks shoot out, causing its legs to get caught and stumble forward and get impaled. The beast lets out a pained roar, but I don’t stop running. Baltimore joins in as well, scratching and pecking at the beast's eyes, keeping it distracted and avoiding its crushing fists.

Fueled with adrenaline and anger, I run at the downed beast, jump, and grab one of its horns. With my combined momentum and weight, I feel its horn break off as I land behind it. I quickly pivot and stab into its skull with its own horn and watch as it crumbles into ash. I almost didn't notice the cut on my right arm.

I glance at Rachel and Grover, both of them looking at me with wide eyes.

Relief floods me when I see Grover conscious and both of them alright.

I, wobbly, run over to Rachel and Grover and pull them into the tightest hug, just so glad they're both ok.

As I hug them, I feel them both wince as I hug them. I pull back and realize how injured they are. I am too, but not as much as them. I'm not the one who got sent airborne after all.

When I got to my feet, I pulled Rachel's and Grover's arms around both shoulders to help them walk. I then ask Grover which way we need to go before anything else crazy happens.

"We need to get inside the camp boundaries," he says. "That's where we'll be safe. We're almost there."

Following Grover's directions, I begin walking while carrying Grover and Rachel, helping them walk. But with the adrenaline wearing off, everything is starting to hit me. I'm getting tired and weak, fast, but I refuse to stop moving until I know we’re all safe. We walk for what feels like forever, my arms and body aching from carrying Rachel and Grover and the fight with the Minotaur. I hear Grover say we’ve reached the border, but everything starts going dark. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground.

I hear Baltimore, Rachel, and Grover all make worried sounds, but I can't hear what they're saying. As I faded out of consciousness, I could've sworn I saw a large house in the distance and a familiar man and an unfamiliar girl with blonde hair run over, closer.

I thought I heard something about the girl saying something about “the one” or whatever that means, but everything goes completely dark and quiet before I hear anything else. 

Chapter Text

I had several weird dreams while I was out, not like my usual ones. This time, I was seeing objects, symbols of some kind, a lightning bolt, and a strange helmet. I saw them disappearing, and a sand timer that, when it runs out, a horrible sound rings in my ears, like what I felt right before I got the news my dad died, only much louder and more painful, and then chaos ensues.

I remember lying in bed, gasping as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I remember being spoon-fed something that tasted like chocolate fudge ice cream, only it had a pudding texture. I saw red; it was Rachel feeding me. I saw red several times as I drifted in and out, but then, one time, I saw yellow.

I think it’s the girl with curly blond hair I saw earlier.

When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

I managed to croak weakly, "What?"

She looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I…I…," I mumbled, "I..."

Somebody opened the door, there was red, and then there was shouting. As to what the shouting was about, I had absolutely no idea; I was already unconscious again.

I was dreaming again when I heard an unfamiliar voice in my head, telling me to wake up.

My eyes shot open, and I leaned up quickly, gasping for air. I looked around as I breathed and realized I was in some kind of infirmary.

I hear someone approaching, the door opens, it's Rachel, and Baltimore's on her shoulder. We lock eyes for a moment before she suddenly runs at me, causing Baltimore to fly off, and she pulls me into a giant hug. I hug her back immediately.

"I'm so glad you're awake," she says, her eyes filled with relief.

"What happened?” I ask, still a bit groggy.

"You passed out; you’ve been asleep for two days." She tells me.

"…what?" I say as I blink in surprise, trying to process her words. "Two days?" I repeat. "But how...?" I shake my head, still a bit disoriented.

"You collapsed as soon as we got to the border." I look up and see Grover walking over to me. "We were able to get you into the infirmary, where you've been resting since. Glad you're ok. Also, here!"

Grover hands me a horn; it's the one I broke off of the Minotaur.

Everything that happened yesterday…really happened; it wasn't just a bad dream.

"Wow…" I say, taking the horn from Grover.

I suddenly remembered my mom. “Oh crap! My mom! What am I going to tell her!”

“Don’t worry about it, I got you covered,” Rachel says. “I left a staticky voicemail telling your mom that the storm was cutting out the signal and that the roads were cut off. I told her we’re fine and that we’ll still probably be back by the time we were supposed to be.”

I let out a breath of relief, glad that I won’t have to worry about my mom for the moment.

“I can't believe that all really happened. What happened while I was out?" I ask in curiosity as I notice both Grover and Rachel are wearing orange T-shirts that say "Camp Half-Blood."

Grover shrugs. "Not much. We got you to the infirmary, and then we just waited for you to wake up." He looks at me with a relieved smile. "Although Rachel did chuck some of her stuff at the other campers who tried to separate you two before she was given permission to enter." He says with a playful smile, and I laugh.

"Let me guess, it was a blue hairbrush?" I ask as I look at Rachel, who's blushing slightly.

"Y-yeah," she admits, looking away. "I was just so worried about you. They weren't taking me seriously."

"Thanks for looking out for me." I thank my best friend. I also notice that Rachel and Grover haven't looked at each other since I woke up. I was about to comment on it when my stomach growled. I feel my cheeks turn red. "I guess I'm a bit hungry."

“Don't worry, I've got you covered!” Rachel says with a smile and then gets up. "I'll grab you some food! I'll be back in a sec."

And just like that, she runs out, leaving me alone with Grover. Is it just me, or did it feel like she was trying to avoid Grover? I decided to ask him what's up: "Ok, what's the deal with you and Rachel? You two didn't look at each other at all."

Grover shakes his head, looking a bit uncomfortable. "It's just that," he says quietly. "We just...we had a bit of a fight before you woke up." He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

I pat on the bed, motioning him to sit down.

Grover sighs deeply before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He looks at me, his expression a mix of regret and sadness. “It's just that we're really good friends, you know? I didn't think I'd care about her at first because she was a mortal, but I really do… and I know I hurt her for not telling her the truth. She did thank me for saving her while I was getting patched up, but then she started getting mad at me for doing it!"

Oh boy, I know where this is going.

"She started chewing me out for saving her and a bunch of other things! Then I started yelling back! Then she was about to say something, but she turned really red, hit me with her blue hairbrush again, and we haven't talked since." Grover says, clearly confused by Rachel’s outburst.

I nod, giving Grover a bit of sympathy. Rachel is known to be blunt and speak her mind; it’s something I love about her, but it’s also something that can make her come across the wrong way, especially since this half-goat clearly doesn’t know about her crush.

"I just don't get why she was so upset." Grover says, and with that my sympathy for the satyr went out the window.

I punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" Grover exclaims, rubbing his arm where I just punched him. "What was that for?!” He asks, looking a bit taken aback.

"Are you seriously that dense?" I say to him with a very unimpressed look, Baltimore does the same.

Grover looks at me, his expression turning from surprised to sheepish.

I sigh, bringing my hand to my head, deciding to spill the beans, "I get you're a guy, but seriously?! Have you honestly not noticed that Rachel's had a major crush on you since the day you met?" I say with my arms out.

Grover looks at me as though I’d just dropped a bomb. "I-I WHAT—!?" he stammers. "I mean, I knew she was nice to me and all, but I thought we were just friends—" He shakes his head, then freezes. "Oh-ohh, ohhhh..." Realization seems to hit Grover like a truck.

"Yep," I say to the satyr as I continue to give him a very unimpressed look.

Grover looks at me, his face a mix of embarrassment and realization. "I...I see." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really should have noticed, huh?"

I nod, feeling upset for Rachel. "Yeah, you should have. But first things first, you need to go apologize and talk things out with Rachel! Now! Go!"

Grover shoots up from the bed rather quickly. "Right. Apologize to Rachel. Thanks, Izzy." He then runs out of the room in search of Rachel.

I hope I didn’t make a big mistake by telling him; I just didn’t want Rachel dealing with another oblivious guy.

Baltimore flew down from the bed frame and landed on my lap.

"You think they'll be alright?" I ask my feathered friend.

Baltimore shrugs his wings in response, making me laugh. I lay back down and just relax as Baltimore stays on top of me. As I pet him, I notice a scar on my arm. I must have gotten it from the Minotaur. That'll be fun trying to explain to my mom.

A while later, Grover and Rachel return with some food. They seem to have patched things up a bit, but I do notice that they both have a light blush on their cheeks. It makes me smile and hope that Rachel won’t have a one-sided crush she carries for multiple summers.

When I’m done eating and drinking, Grover speaks up, “Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."

My eyes went wide. I remembered the book. I know what’s going to happen next (more or less); that doesn’t make me any less nervous.

My legs felt wobbly trying to walk that far. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, and I let him. Rachel stayed close, holding the inside of my arm in case I tripped, and Baltimore stayed perched on my shoulder with one of his wings over my forehead, keeping the glint of the sun out of my eyes.

Percy was right about the walk being long and incredible; I could barely process everything I was seeing.

It was like I was walking through the pages of the stories themselves.

I saw all the Greek architecture described in the books; it was all beautiful. As we walked, we passed a sandpit where a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball.

I saw campers all over the place, wearing the same orange shirts as Grover, Rachel, and now myself. All doing the crazy activities described in the books.

We walked down on the porch and saw two men at a card table; only one of them was a horse from the waist down, and the blond-haired girl who I saw as I was drifting was leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing me was small but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt. I knew right away who that was.

"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know, Chiron..."

I was completely shocked by the people in front of me; three major characters in my favorite book series were right in front of me.

I glanced over at Rachel, who didn’t seem as shocked as I imagined; she probably met more people while I was unconscious.

My Latin teacher turned and smiled at me, then turned to Annabeth.

"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl.

She came forward, and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health alongside Rachel, Izzy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Izzy and Rachel’s bunk? We'll be putting them in cabin eleven for now."

Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."

She looked to be Rachel’s age, around 14; she’s older than she was in the book when Percy met her. Something else that’s different.

She’s definitely taller than me and maybe just a bit more than Rachel; she’s also more athletic-looking. With her deep tan and her curly honey-blond hair, with startling gray eyes like storm clouds, she was pretty but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight, and knowing her character from the books, she probably was.

Annabeth looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You flail in your sleep.” Then sprinted away down the lawn.

Is that what she does with everyone she meets? Gives a weird comment, then leaves?

"Uh, hello, Mr. Brunner, I mean, Chiron." I greet.

Chiron looks at me with a small smile.

“I must say, Izzy," Chiron broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?" I ask.

"My transfer to Goode High School is to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to...ah, take a leave of absence."

I remember that Chiron did the same thing for Percy’s Latin teacher at one of his old schools. I hoped my old Latin teacher was okay.

“Apparently he came to our school just to teach you.” Rachel tells me.

“It was ridiculous that he did.” Mr. D says as he chugs his soda can.

Chiron speaks up. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

Chiron then—like he did with Percy—goes on to explain to me how Greek myths are real. Honestly, it didn’t shock me as much as it probably should have. He also explains that Grover was sent to my school after the earthquake; apparently they sensed something—me.

Mr. D randomly interjects and says he’s tired, then turns to Grover before leaving, “Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to me. "Cabin eleven, Lizzy Milo. And mind your manners."

I’m about to say something about how he got my name wrong, but Rachel puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don't bother; he's been calling me ‘Raquel Dark” for the past two days.”

Right, Mr. D is famous for never saying anyone’s name right.

Mr. D swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.

"Will Grover be okay?" Rachel asked Chiron.

Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ...ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

I remember that Dionysus was placed here as a punishment. It seems Rachel already knows; she must’ve learned a lot while I was out.

"So, uh, Chiron," I start, looking up at the centaur, "you say I'm a demigod, but how? I'm not talking about where babies come from; I'm talking about actually how. I've been told I looked like both my parents growing up; I even have hospital photos, so how could I be a demigod?"

Chiron looks softly at me. “I don't have all the answers, Izzy, or know the details of your birth, but for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet and plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

Baltimore makes one of his signature raven sounds that reflects my mood, and I begin walking away, following Chiron with Rachel.

Walking to who knows what, in more ways than one.

Chapter Text

While walking us to the cabin we'll be staying at, Chiron gives me and Rachel a full tour of the camp.

Rachel had only seen some of it since she was staying by my side most of the time while I was unconscious.

We passed the volleyball pit again, a bit closer this time. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn I was carrying that Grover handed back to me before he left.

Another said, "That's her."

I never liked it when people stared at me. I could normally handle it, but the way they stared at me made me super uncomfortable.

As I looked back at the farmhouse, I saw the four stories and something move in the uppermost window of the attic gable. I had a feeling I knew what was up there, but I asked Chiron anyway.

“What's up there?"

He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?" Rachel asks.

No, not a single thing," he said with a bit of finality. "Come along, Izzy, Rachel," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see."

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

Chiron told us how the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead. My favorite fruit.

Rachel and I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I could tell Rachel was thinking about Grover.

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" She asked Chiron. "I mean ... he was a good protector. Really. He saved me and Izzy.”

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horse's back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Rachel. Perhaps bigger than reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper, and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill".

"But he did that!" Rachel says, motioning to me.

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover was separated from Izzy when she went away on her summer trip. And then there's the fact that Grover was nearly unconscious when Izzy dragged him, and you, to the property line before passing out herself. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

I wanted to protest. None of what happened was Grover's fault. I could feel Rachel about to do the same, then I saw realization on her face.

I know what she’s doing; she’s blaming herself for the fact that I was away from the city because I was with her. I took her hand in mine to give her reassurance.

She looked at me, a bit sad, before looking back at Chiron. "He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Chiron winced. "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Rachel. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, seven years ago. Olympus knows I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

"How old is he?" I asked, wondering if his age was different as well.

"Oh, thirty-one." Chiron answers easily.

"What!?” Rachel yells in shock.

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans. Grover has been the equivalent of a high school freshman for the past six years."

"That's horrible." Rachel says, still in disbelief, probably from the fact she learned her crush is twice her age.

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career..."

"That's not fair," I say. “I know what happened, but this was not his fault; he did save me and Rachel.”

Chiron gives me a sympathetic look before moving on. "Come now. Let's see the woods."

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It was even more than what Percy described.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Rachel asked. "Armed with what?"

"Izzy will see. Rachel, you will have to sit out. Capture the flag is on Friday night. Izzy, you have your own sword and shield?"

"What—?"

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do. I'll visit the armory later."

Chiron continued his tour until we found ourselves at Cabin 11, and Annabeth was there.

“Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have a master's archery class at noon. Would you take Izzy and Rachel from here?"

"Yes, sir." She said, with respect.

“Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. Over the doorway was Hermes Sybil, a caduceus. Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him, they all stood and bowed respectfully.

“Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Izzy, Rachel. I'll see you at dinner." He galloped away toward the archery range.

The kids weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at me and Rachel. As though they were sizing us up.

“Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."

I walked into the cabin with Rachel, a bit nervous.

Annabeth announced, "Izzy Mira and Rachel Dare, meet cabin eleven."

“Regulars or undetermined?" somebody asked.

Rachel and I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth did, “Undetermined, but that one's a mortal." She said, pointing at Rachel.

Everybody groaned.

Some were saying stuff and were confused when they heard Rachel was a mortal.

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, guys. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Izzy, and you too, Rachel. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with seven different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from the top of his forehead through his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

I didn't need an introduction. I knew right away who this man was: Luke Castellan.

My heart was racing, I couldn't exactly blurt out everything I knew, so I kept quiet. Things were different as well; in the books he was described as being 7 years older than Annabeth; he only looks to be around 5 years older. This world is similar to the ones in the books, but not identical. Maybe Luke is different too?

Annabeth speaks, snapping me back.

“This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."

“For now?" Rachel asked.

“Your friend here is undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers. You are welcome to stay as well, Rachel."

He looks over to me. "That's quite a friend you've got there," he says, glancing at Rachel and then back to me. "I heard she refused to leave your side when you got to the camp borders, refusing to leave until she was allowed in, and it looked like she was willing to fight anyone who said otherwise." I looked over at Rachel and smiled; she probably would have.

Rachel and I looked at the tiny section of floor we'd been given. We didn't have anything with us at the moment; Rachel and I left our bags in the infirmary. The only thing I had with me was Baltimore and the Minotaur's horn. I thought about setting that down, but then I remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves.

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, and some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will we be here?" Rachel asked.

"Good question," Luke said. “You, Rachel, can technically leave whenever you want, but Izzy will be here until she's been determined.

"How long could that take?" I ask.

The campers all laughed.

“Come on," Annabeth told me and Rachel. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

“We've already seen it." I say.

“Come on." She grabbed my and Rachel’s wrists and dragged us outside. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind me. When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Mira, you have to do better than that."

“What?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."

I'm definitely getting frustrated now. I remembered how Annabeth treated Percy like this when they first met, hoping he would be the one to take her on a quest, but I’m not Percy.

"You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?" She told me.

“To get killed?" Rachel says with a look that matches mine, we both seriously question the mental state of the people here.

“To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?" She tells us like we're stupid.

Rachel speaks up to Annabeth, "If Izzy really fought the Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."

“Yes."

“Then there's only one."

“Yes."

“And he died, like, forever ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."

"Monsters don't die. They can be killed. But they don't die." Annabeth says it like it makes complete sense.

“Oh, yeah. That totally makes sense." I say, sarcastically.

“They don't have souls, like us. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they reform."

I thought about how unsettling that'll be if I have to deal with respawned monsters all the time.

Rachel speaks again, "Why do we have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there." She pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale and a bit annoyed at Rachel.

“You shouldn't even be here, mortal girl," she tells Rachel, crossing her arms, "and you don't just choose a cabin. It depends on who your parents are. Or...your parent." She stared at us, well, me, waiting for me to get it.

“My mom is Anna Mira, and my dad is Dominik Mira," I say. "They're just regular people."

Annabeth sighed. “Then it just means one of your parents isn't your parent."

“Excuse me?" I say, sounding a bit pissed, and I can tell that if I hit her, Rachel would join me; the way she said that left some not-so-nice implications.

“How can you say that? Do you have proof?” I snap.

"No, of course not."

“Then how can you say—"

“Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

“You don't know anything about me." I say plainly because I am not Percy.

“No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

“What—"

“Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too." Realization crossed my face; this was the same talk she'd given Percy. She continues, "Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Izzy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

“Um, you’re half right and half wrong." I tell her, “Yes, I moved around schools a lot, but not because I was kicked out but because my parents would move a lot for work. Also, I'm not dyslexic; the ADHD is a maybe. I've never been clinically diagnosed."

She looks at me a bit stunned and almost embarrassed, like she couldn't believe she was wrong. I then decided to try and carry on; the awkwardness was too much. "But it sounds like ... you went through that?"

She composed herself a bit. "Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar. The food and drink we were giving you were to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid."

I widen my eyes and look at Rachel to make sure she didn't have any of that stuff; she quickly shakes her head, letting me know she didn't and she's fine. I let out a sigh of relief as Annabeth continues.

“It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand, and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."

A half-blood. Just like Percy, I was reeling with so many questions I didn't know where to start.

Then a husky voice yelled, "Well! A newbie!"

I looked over. A big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering toward us. She had three other girls behind her, all big and crude and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

Oh no, please don't tell me that's who I think it is…

“Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

“Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth said, which I somehow understood was Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded.

“You don't stand a chance. We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward me. “Who are the runts?"

“Izzy Mira, Rachel Dare," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares." Rachel and Clarisse looked at each other less than nicely; something tells me they already met each other. I just stared at her, trying to stay quiet.

Clarisse sneered at me even though I said nothing. "You got a problem?"

“Nope," I said calmly, looking away; for some reason that pissed her off too. Clarisse growled.

“We got an initiation ceremony for newbies. Come on, I'll show you."

I did not want to go with her.

"Clarisse—" Annabeth tried to say.

"Stay out of it." Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it; Rachel did not.

Despite being a mortal and a lot smaller than the three demigods, she was prepared to fight with me, and she probably would've if Annabeth wasn't holding her back, quite easily, I might add. I should probably teach Rachel some of my more aggressive moves.

Before I knew it, Clarisse had me by the neck and was about to drag me. I knew she probably wasn't going to take me to get ice cream, and my body reacted on instinct. I ducked and twisted out of Clarisse's grip and stood back a few feet on guard. Everyone, except Rachel, who's seen me spar, seemed shocked. Clarisse and her friends stood there dumbfounded before Clarisse's face started to get angry.

So I did what Percy didn't: I ran. Clarisse's friends were on me quick, though, all laughing, and I was trying to find the strength I'd used to fight the Minotaur, but it wasn’t there.

“Like she's 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she got closer.

Her friends snickered; they tried to grab me. My body was still moving automatically from my lessons. I dodged their grabs and then struck them both in their throats. They both fell over like the wind had been knocked out of them. I probably did; it didn't help that I have heavy bones.

I looked and saw Clarisse pissed, Annabeth shocked, and Rachel cheering me on, still stuck in Annabeth's grip.

Seriously, I have to teach her how to fight.

I didn't realize where I was until I turned around and saw the bathroom wall behind me. Clarisse's friends had chased me to the bathrooms. Clarisse then shoved me in, and all Annabeth did was stand in the corner, holding back Rachel, who was still unable to get out of her grip.

Clarisse grabbed me by my hair and caused me to scream. I've been told I'm really sensitive when it comes to my, well, senses. Clarisse kicked my knees forward and started pushing my head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked worse than anything I've ever smelled before. I strained to keep my head up. I was looking at the scummy water, thinking, I will not go into that. I won't. I was scared, and I knew I pissed off Clarisse and that wouldn't stop here.

Then something happened. I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach. The ground beneath me and Clarisse began to shake. The walls began to crack. Clarisse's grip on my hair loosened. One of the cracks in the wall got so big that a pipe burst out and water shot out at Clarisse. Next thing I knew, I was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind me. I turned just as another crack caused a pipe to burst out of the wall again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt.

The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall. She struggled, gasping. She got out of the way and tried to go at me, but Baltimore flew in out of nowhere and pushed her back into the stall and then proceeded to drop some of his business on her head. He landed on my shoulder and let out a raven laugh, proceeding to piss off Clarisse even more.

She got up and looked like she was prepared to kill me. I got scared again. I held up my guard, ready to fight, when suddenly the ground gave way under Clarisse and became jagged, tripping her. Then the walls the showers were connected to began cracking, and just like before, the pipes burst, and water began spinning Clarisse around like a piece of garbage being washed away. As soon as she was out the door, I felt the tug in my gut lessen, and the jagged rocks from the ground disappeared. The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth and Rachel hadn't been spared. They were dripping wet, but they hadn't been pushed out the door. They were both standing in exactly the same place, staring at me in shock. Rachel a little less.

I looked down, a little soaked myself, and realized I was sitting in the only non-cracked spot in the whole room. There was a circle of uncracked floor around me.

Annabeth said, "How did you ..."

“I don't know!" I cried. I have literally no idea what's going on!

“You did it again!" Rachel said in disbelief.

"Wait, again?" Annabeth commented and finally released Rachel.

We walked out the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Still with a bit of poop from Baltimore. Her camouflage jacket was sopping, and she smelled like sewage.

She gave me a look of absolute hatred. "You are dead, new girl. You are totally dead."

I'm not like Percy; I didn't say anything back. I wouldn't give her that satisfaction. But Rachel didn't let it go, and neither did Baltimore.

Rachel said, "You want to get trashed again? Take two steps forward."

Baltimore was standing ready on my shoulder, ready to fly and drop another deuce on Clarisse without hesitation. Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five; granted, they were still reeling from my hits on them, so it took them a while to drag her, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Annabeth stared at me. I couldn't tell whether she was just grossed out or angry at me for dousing her.

"What?" I demanded, "What are you thinking?"

“I'm thinking," she said, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."

Crap.

Chapter Text

Word of the bathroom incident spread quickly. Wherever I went, campers pointed at me and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Annabeth and Rachel, who were still pretty much dripping wet. Annabeth showed me and Rachel a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough.

Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins.

"I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall." She left, and I and Rachel watched her leave, but she turned around and told me, "You need to talk to the Oracle."

“What? Why?" Seriously, why?

“The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron." Annabeth said.

I stared into the lake, wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once. I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skipped a beat when I noticed two pretty teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. But when they saw me, they hissed violently and swam away.

The suddenness was enough to make me step back a few feet. What did I ever do to them?

Rachel was confused by my reaction. "Naiads," Annabeth warned. "They prefer men."

“Naiads," I repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. “Is it too late to go home now?"

Annabeth frowned. "Don't you get it, Izzy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us."

“Mentally disturbed kids?"

“I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human."

“Half-human and half-what?"

“I think you know."

I didn't want to admit it, but I was afraid I did. I felt a tingling in my limbs, a sensation I sometimes felt.

"Half-god."

Annabeth nodded. “Your parent, whichever one it is, is one of them."

“That's...impossible." I said.

“Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?" Annabeth asked me.

Honestly, no, I'm just surprised that half these kids aren't Zeus'.

Rachel chimes in, "But if all the kids here are half-gods—"

"Demigods," Annabeth corrects. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods."

"Then who are your parents?" Rachel asked.

Annabeth's hands tightened around the pier railing. "My dad is a professor at West Point. I haven't seen him in a while. He teaches American history. What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive?"

“Who's your mom, then?" Rachel asked.

"Cabin six."

“She's Athena's daughter." I tell Rachel we had a short telepathic moment where I could tell she was thinking, Okay. Why not?

"And what about my "parent"?" I asked, but I knew the answer.

“Undetermined," Annabeth said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows." I looked down, Rachel put her hand on my shoulder, and Annabeth spoke again, "Maybe a parent will send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your parent has to send you a sign claiming you as their daughter. Sometimes it happens."

“You mean sometimes it doesn't?" Rachel asked, sounding completely shocked and appalled. I agreed with her on the appalled part.

Annabeth ran her palm along the rail. "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids, and they don't always...Well, sometimes they don't claim their kids."

I thought about some of the kids I'd seen in the Hermes cabin, teenagers who looked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would never come. Sometimes seemed like a lot. The gods should behave better than that.

We stood in silence for a moment, watching the reflections of the setting sun dance on the water. I couldn't believe it. I was a demigod, and I had no idea who my real parent was…and who wasn't. Eventually Rachel breaks the silence.

“So what? That's it? She has to stay here the rest of her life? Or die?" She asks, concerned.

“It depends," Annabeth said. "Some campers only stay in the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble—about ten or eleven years old—but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."

“So monsters can't get in here?" I ask.

Annabeth shook her head. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside."

“Why would anybody want to summon a monster?" Rachel asked.

“Practice fights. Practical jokes." Me and Rachel give Annabeth a dead-flat face, again questioning the mental state of the campers here.

“The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm." Annabeth says.

“Then how can I see this place and the weird stuff inside?" Rachel asks.

"You're probably a seer; it means you have clear sight. Demigods are born with it, but sometimes some mortals are born with the ability, like you. It just means you can see stuff that the mist keeps hidden from most, like monsters." Annabeth responds to Rachel.

“So then...how long have you been here?" Rachel asks Annabeth.

From under the collar of her T-shirt, she pulled a leather necklace with 7 clay beads of different colors. Indicating that Annabeth is indeed two years older than when the story originally began when Percy was here.

It was just like Luke's, except Annabeth's also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring. "I've been here since I was seven. Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors."

“Why did you come so young?" Rachel asked, and Annabeth twisted the ring on her necklace. "None of your business."

We stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence.

“So...Izzy could just walk out of here right now if she wanted to?" Rachel asked.

“It would be suicide, but...yes, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless ..."

“Unless?" I ask.

“You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time ..." Her voice trailed off. I could tell from her tone that the last time hadn't gone well.

“Back in the sickroom," I said, "I heard you mention something about."

Annabeth's shoulders tensed. “Do you know something?"

“Well...no." I can't say it's because I read the book or that I’ve been having strange dreams, so I fib a little, not sure how much to reveal, "I just heard some stuff."

She clenched her fists. "I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal ."

"You've been to Olympus?" Rachel asks, a bit in awe.

“Some of us year-rounders—Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others—we took a field trip during the winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council."

"But... how did you get there?" Rachel asked again.

“The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She looked at us like she was sure we must know this already. “You are New Yorkers, right?"

“Oh, sure." As far as I knew, there were only a hundred and two floors in the Empire State Building, but I decided not to point that out.

“Right after we visited," Annabeth continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by the summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. Then they were talking about you, Izzy. When you came, I was hoping...I mean—Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I...I thought you might know something."

I shook my head. Part of me wanted to tell her what I did know, but the other half wanted to tell her that she has a toxic relationship with the gods, plus I felt too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to hear anything else, but apparently Annabeth still has more to say.

“I've got to get a quest," she muttered to herself. "I'm not too young. I'm 14! If they would just tell me the problem..."

I could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Annabeth must've heard my stomach growl, and Rachel's. She told us to go on, that she'd catch us later. Rachel and I left her on the pier, heading over to get some food.

“Why do you think she wants to go on a quest so badly?" Rachel asks,

“Well, she did say it is what demigods spend their whole lives training for, plus it seems like the kids here have a toxic relationship with their parents and are desperate for attention and are willing to go as far as risking their lives for it." I respond.

"And I thought my parents were bad." Rachel adds.

Rachel and I head back to cabin eleven. Rachel spots Grover in the distance, and I can tell she wants to talk to him. I tell her she can go, giving her a knowing smile, and that I’ll see her at dinner. When I walked into the cabin, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner.

For the first time, I noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, and mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers. Thankfully, nobody paid much attention to me as I walked over to my spot on the floor and plopped down with my minotaur horn.

Luke came over. He had the Hermes family resemblance, too. It was marred by that scar on his right cheek, but his smile was intact. "Found you sleeping bags for you and your friend," he said. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store."

I seriously couldn't tell if he was kidding about the stealing part. "Thanks."

“No prob." Luke sat next to me and pushed his back against the wall. “Tough first day?"

“I just found out one of my parents isn't my parent, and a muscle girl with anger issues tried to kill me for being a newbie." I saw it with a flat expression.

Luke chuckled. "Yeah, welcome to Camp Half-Blood. And don't mind Clarisse; she's like that with everyone."

“At the very least, I'm glad Rachel and Baltimore had my back when Clarisse tried to attack me." I say with a small smile.

"Baltimore?" Luke asks curiously, I just remembered Luke hasn't met Baltimore yet, and that he's just been flying around. I let out a whistle-like hum. Moments later, Baltimore flies in and lands on my shoulder.

"This is Baltimore," I introduced him. "He's my raven." I tell Luke as I ruffle some of Baltimore's feathers.

Luke nodded, looking impressed. "He followed you all the way here?"

“Yep, he's been a part of my family for a while now." I tell him.

Luke brings his hand up in curiosity, but when he gets too close, Baltimore almost bites him, but Luke pulls back his hand just in time as Baltimore lets out a protective sound and wraps his wings around my head.

"Woah! Nippy little guy!" Luke says, waving his hand back, a bit shocked and amused.

"Yeah, he's a little protective," I say with a chuckle, patting Baltimore's head. "So the gods are real, huh?"

"Yep, they are," Luke says, sitting back down next to me. "Once you start believing in them, it doesn't get any easier." The bitterness in his voice didn't surprise me, probably because I read the books. "Don't worry, Izzy. The campers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're an extended family, right? We take care of each other."

I understand why Percy was so enamored with this guy, but knowing what I know, I again wonder if there's anything I can do to alter his and so many other demigods' fates.

I decided to ask Luke about something, even though it could risk making him upset. "I've been hearing stuff about quests lately; Annabeth seems to really want to go on one."

Luke folded his knife. "I hate quests."

“What do you mean?" I ask as his face twitches around his scar.

“Let's just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until...somebody special came to the camp."

I know the truth: in the books, that someone special was Percy, but now there's no Percy; who's going to take her on her quest?

“Is that why Annabeth said something about me being the one?” I ask.

Luke looks over at me with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for. Now, come on, it's dinnertime."

The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance.

Luke yelled, "Eleven, fall in!"

The whole cabin, over twenty of us, filed into the commons yard. We lined up in order of seniority, so of course I was dead last. But not alone, Rachel came back not long after the horn went off, so she was with me.

Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for the three empty cabins at the end and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime but was now starting to glow silver as the sun went down. We marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined us from the meadow. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls (dryads, I'm assuming) came out of the woods.

In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads. This place was even weirder than the books described.

At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, but cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. Rachel and I were practically sitting in each other’s laps.

We saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur. Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her grey eyes.

Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over being hosed down, because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends. Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent.

He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue! My glass was empty, but Luke said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want—nonalcoholic, of course."

I say, "Um, Coca-Cola?" The glass fills with dark, bubbly soda. I took a cautious sip. It was wonderful. Rachel asked for a strawberry milkshake.

“Here you go, Izzy," Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket. I loaded my plate and was about to take a big bite alongside Rachel when we noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the center of the pavilion.

“Come on," Luke told me and Rachel. As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire: the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, and the warmest, most buttery roll. Luke murmured in our ears, “Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell."

“Really?” Rachel asked.

Luke's look warned us not to take this lightly, but I still couldn't help wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food.

Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes."

I was next. I remember the first time Percy did this, how he called out for his dad he didn't yet know. But unlike Percy, I didn’t want to call anyone.

Finally, I made an almost silent plea: “Whoever you are, don’t tell me; just do what you’ve done my whole life: stay away.” I know how stupid that sounded. I know how many unclaimed here would do anything to know who their godly parent is, but I don’t want to know. I want to stay as my parents' child. I want to stay as the child of Anna and Dominik Mira. I want to stay as the child of the people who raised and loved me.

I scrape a big slice of brisket into the flames and head back to my seat.

When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention.

Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table.

“Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Lizzy Milo." Chiron murmured something. "Er, Izzy Mira, and her mortal tagalong, uh..." He looked over to Chiron, who murmured again, "Rachel Dare." Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, I didn't feel that anyone was staring at me anymore. I felt at peace.

Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed on my borrowed sleeping bag.

Rachel did the same, Baltimore too, collapsing dramatically on top of me. My fingers curled around the Minotaur's horn. I thought about my mom; I wondered how she'd react if she knew. I thought about my dad and also thought about my brother, who's still stuck in his coma. When I closed my eyes, for the first time in forever, I fell asleep instantly, next to Rachel and with Baltimore in between us.

That was my first day at Camp Half-Blood. Minus some parts, it really was amazing. I wish things could stay like this, but I have a feeling they won't.

Chapter Text

The next few days I settled into a routine that felt almost normal, if you don't count the fact that I was getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur. Plus the fact I was still haunted by the dream about a lightning bolt and strange-looking helmet, the timer, and the chaos that ensued.

I wondered why I was having these dreams, but as usual there were no answers.

Each morning I took Ancient Greek from Annabeth alongside Rachel, and we talked about the gods and goddesses in the present tense, which was kind of weird. Even though I didn't have dyslexia like other demigods, Greek wasn't that hard for me to read. Rachel, on the other hand, struggled a bit, but I was more than happy to help; it gave me more practice, plus I was adding another language to my belt.

After some lessons, I could stumble through a few lines of Homer without too much trouble. The rest of the day, I'd rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something I was good at. Chiron tried to teach me archery, and while I wasn't the worst shot in the world, it was pretty clear I was no Olympic champion either. Rachel joined me in the activities; she seemed to be having even more fun than me. At least one of us was having a good time. The demigods are starting to give her fewer weird looks and have come to accept that she's the mortal girl who can see through the mist and tagged along with me in here.

Foot racing? No good either. I could dodge a strike, but I was definitely not that fast. The wood-nymph instructors left me in the dust. They told me not to worry about it. They'd had centuries of practice running away from lovesick gods. And wrestling? Forget it.

I purposely avoided that because I didn't want to spar with Clarisse; I don’t have a death wish. So I’d just practice my Krav Maga in private.

Canoeing was alright, but it also made me sad because it was something my dad and I did together. I also got this subtle feeling in the back of my head that I shouldn't be in water long.

I knew the senior campers and counselors were watching me, trying to decide who my parent was, but they weren't having an easy time of it.

I wasn't as strong as the Ares kids or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. I didn't have a green thumb like the Demeter kids or fit the stereotype the Aphrodite kids were pushing. I definitely wasn’t smart enough to be an Athena kid. I didn't have Hephaestus's skill with metalwork or Dionysus's way with vine plants.

Luke told me I might be a child of Hermes, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But I got the feeling he really didn't know what to make of me either. And honesty? Neither did I.

Despite all that, I liked camp. I got used to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, and even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night.

I tried to get along with Luke, hoping that I could change his fate. I would eat dinner with Cabin Eleven, scrape part of my meal into the fire, and say the same thing I said the first time I did this. I honestly didn't want to know my godly parent. Is it really that dumb that I just want to stay as my parents’ child?

Like Percy, I started to understand Luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, Hermes. So okay, maybe gods had important things to do. But couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder, or something?

Dionysus could make Diet Coke appear out of thin air. Why couldn't the campers' parents, whoever they are, make some answers appear?

Thursday afternoon, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I had my first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be our instructor.

We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. I guess I did okay.

At least, I understood what I was supposed to do, and my reflexes were good; my martial arts training helped. The problem was I couldn't find a weapon that felt right in my hands. Either they were too heavy, or too light, or too long. Luke tried his best to fix me up, but he agreed that none of the practice blades or other weapons seemed to work for me.

We moved on to dueling in pairs. Luke announced he would be my partner since this was my first time.

“Good luck," one of the campers told me. "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."

Here's hoping my self-defense lessons will at least allow me to not die.

Luke showed me thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way. If it wasn't for my previous training where I learned how to dodge and maneuver, I'd look more bruised than a banana left in the fridge.

“Keep your guard up, Izzy," he'd say. By the time he called a break, I was soaked in sweat. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke poured ice water on his head, which looked like such a good idea, I did the same. I felt better, but the sword still felt awkward.

“Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered. "If Izzy doesn't mind, I want to give you a little demo."

Great. Why does this guy want to pound me?

The Hermes guys gathered around. They were suppressing smiles. I figured they'd been in my shoes before and couldn't wait to see how Luke used me for a punching bag. He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon.

"This is difficult," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Izzy now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique." He demonstrated the move on me in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of my hand. "Now in real time," he said, after I'd retrieved my weapon. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Izzy?"

I nodded, and Luke came after me. I kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of my sword, mostly dodging, when suddenly, it felt like my already sensitive senses had heightened.

I saw his attacks coming. I countered. I stepped forward and tried a thrust of my own. Luke deflected it easily, but I saw a change in his face. His eyes narrowed, and he started to press me with more force. I could feel the sword growing heavier in my hand. The balance wasn't right, and it was really hindering me.

I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took me down, so I figured, what the heck? Why not? I tried using the disarming maneuver. My blade hit the base of Luke's, and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust.

Clang!

Luke's sword rattled against the stones. He was caught off guard, I could tell, and then, on instinct, I got closer and knocked him down. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended chest.

The other campers were silent.

I realized what I did. "Um, sorry." I held out my hand for him to grab.

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak.

"Sorry?" His scarred face broke into a grin, then he grabbed my hand and got up. “Izzy, why are you sorry? Show me that again!"

I didn't want to. But Luke insisted.

This time, there was no contest. I didn't even really try this time; I knew I couldn't use that unbalanced weapon any longer. The moment our swords connected, Luke hit my hilt and sent my weapon skidding across the floor. After a long pause, somebody in the audience said, "Beginner's luck?"

Luke wiped the sweat off his brow. He appraised me with an entirely new interest.

"Maybe," he said. "But I wonder what Izzy could do with a balanced weapon...."

Friday afternoon, I was sitting with Grover and Rachel at the lake, resting from a near-death experience on the climbing wall. Grover had scampered to the top like a mountain goat, but the lava had almost gotten me and Rachel. Who insisted on doing it with me, despite the whole lava thing.

Our shirts had smoking holes in them. We sat on the pier, watching the naiads do underwater basket-weaving, and Baltimore stared at them curiously on my shoulder while leaning down, until Rachel got up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D. His face turned a sickly shade of yellow.

“Fine," he said. "Just great."

“So your career's still on track?"

He glanced at me and Rachel nervously. "Chiron told you I want a searcher's license?"

“Well... no." Rachel responded that she had no idea what a searcher's license was, but I did, but only because I read the book.

Rachel continued, "He just said you had big plans, you know...and that you needed credit for completing a keeper's assignment. So, did you get it?"

Grover looked down at the naiads. "Mr. D left the judgment undecided. He said I hadn't failed or succeeded with Izzy yet, and...that you being there complicated things."

I saw Rachel visibly deflate, and Grover quickly tried to reassure her that he doesn't regret what happened and he'd do it again in a heartbeat, making Rachel blush and Grover as well. They both turned their faces away from each other.

Honestly, just kiss already.

We talked about the pros and cons of the different gods and who my parent could be. Finally, Rachel asked him about the four empty cabins.

"Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis," he said. "She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd be mad."

“Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the Big Three?" Rachel asked. Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject.

“No. One of them, number two, is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos.”

"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades." I say.

“Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what." Grover explains.

“Zeus got the sky," I remembered. "Poseidon the sea, Hades the Underworld."

"Uh-huh." Grover responds.

“But Hades doesn't have a cabin here." Rachel says, I notice it as well, remembering how long it took for other gods and goddesses to get cabins and thrones on Olympus.

"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here..." Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant. Let's leave it at that."

“But Zeus and Poseidon—they both had, like, a bazillion kids in the myths. Why are their cabins empty?" Rachel asked.

Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II, you know, was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx." Thunder boomed.

I said, "That's the most serious oath you can make."

Grover nodded.

I spoke up again, knowing where this story is going, "And let me guess the brothers didn't keep their word?"

Grover's face darkened. "Not long after the oath was made, Zeus broke his promise; it led to a major fight with Hades. Hades argued that Zeus doing what he did made the oath pointless. Then, twenty-one years ago, Poseidon fell off the wagon too. There was this TV starlet with a big—he just couldn't help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia...well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Poseidon got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."

Wait, what? That's not how it went in the books. Originally, Zeus didn't break the oath till Thalia, but now, Thalia isn't even his daughter? And Poseidon's her dad? How?

“But that isn't fair.' It wasn't the little girl's fault." Rachel said.

Honestly, I completely agreed with her.

Grover hesitated. "Rachel and Izzy, children of the Big Three, have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Zeus found out, he wasn’t too happy. Neither was Hades. He sent monsters to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was 14, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."

I knew the truth behind this story, but it doesn't make me feel less sad.

Grover pointed across the valley to the pine tree where I'd fought the minotaur. I didn't know it at the time because it was dark, but I knew what it was now.

“The Kindly Ones were after them. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted animal. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill.

As she died, Poseidon took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

I stared at the pine in the distance.

"I still can't believe you and Chiron were at our school…and you knew what she was right away?" Rachel asked.

Grover nodded, "Satyrs go undercover to a lot of schools. We try to sniff out the half-bloods who have the makings of great heroes. If we find one with a very strong aura, like a child of the Big Three, we alert Chiron.  He tries to keep an eye on them, since they could cause really huge problems. But with Izzy it was different; we didn't even sense her until that freak earthquake, and then when her scent greatly lessened, it got harder to find her."

"But then you found me. Chiron said you and he thought I might be something special." I said.

Grover looked as if I'd just led him into a trap. "I didn't... Oh, listen, don't think like that. If you were—you know—you'd never ever be allowed a quest, and I'd never get my license. You're probably a child of Hermes. Or maybe even one of the minor gods, like Nemesis, the god of revenge. Don't worry, okay?"

I got the idea he was reassuring himself more than me.

That night after dinner, there was a lot more excitement than usual. It was time for capture the flag. When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded, and we all stood at our tables. Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening gray, with a painting of a barn owl above an olive tree. From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse and her buddies ran in with another banner, of identical size but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a boar's head.

I turned to Luke and yelled over the noise, "Those are the flags?"

“Yeah."

“Do Ares and Athena always lead the teams?"

"Not always," he said. "But often."

“So, if another cabin captures one, what do you do— repaint the flag?"

He grinned. "You'll see. First we have to get one."

"Whose side are we on?"

He gave me a sly look, as if he knew something I didn't. The scar on his face made him look almost sinister in the torchlight. But I knew in the books part of him definitely was. Part of me hopes that he doesn't become trapped in that evil, though.

"We've made a temporary alliance with Athena. Tonight, we get the flag from Ares. And you are going to help." He tells me.

The teams were announced. Athena had made an alliance with Apollo and Hermes, the two biggest cabins. Apparently, privileges had been traded—shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities—in order to win support. Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus. From what I'd seen, Dionysus's kids were actually good athletes, but there were only two of them. Demeter's kids had the edge with nature skills and outdoor stuff, but they weren't very aggressive. Aphrodite's sons and daughters I wasn't too worried about. They mostly sat out every activity and checked their reflections in the lake and did their hair and gossiped; once again, it felt like they were being forced into a stereotype.

Hephaestus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly from working in the metal shop all day. They would be a problem. That, of course, left Ares's cabin: a dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet. Percy was not wrong in his description.

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble. "Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, and oxhide shields coated in metal.

"Whoa," I said. "We're really supposed to use these?"

Luke looked at me as if I were crazy. "Unless you want to get skewered by your friends in cabin five. Here—Chiron thought these would fit. You'll be on border patrol."

Rachel was watching from the sides alongside Grover. I was definitely jealous that I couldn't sit out of this death game.

My shield was the size of an NBA backboard, with a big caduceus in the middle. It weighed about a million pounds. I could have gone sledding on it, but I hoped nobody seriously expected me to run fast.

My helmet, like all the helmets on Athena's side, had a blue horsehair plume on top. Ares and their allies had red plumes.

Annabeth yelled, "Blue team, forward!" We cheered and shook our swords and followed her down the path to the south woods. The red team yelled taunts at us as they headed off toward the north. I managed to catch up with Annabeth without tripping over my equipment.

“Hey." I called to her; she kept marching. "So what's the plan? Got any magic items I can borrow?"

Her hand drifted toward her pocket, as if she were afraid I'd stolen something.

“Just watch Clarisse's spear," she said. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

“Border patrol, whatever that is."

“It's easy. Stand by the creek; keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan." She pushed ahead, leaving me in the dust.

"Okay," I mumbled.

I knew that with my luck the only reason she wanted me on her team was the same reason she wanted Percy; still didn't feel great though.

It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. Annabeth stationed me next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then she and the rest of the team scattered into the trees. Standing there alone, with my big blue-feathered helmet and my huge shield, I felt like an idiot.

The bronze sword, like all the swords I'd tried so far, seemed balanced wrong. The leather grip pulled on my hand like a bowling ball.

I braced myself and kept my guard up, just in case Clarisse tried with me what she did with Percy in the book. Far away, the horn blew. I heard whoops and yells in the woods, the clanking of metal, and kids fighting. A blue-plumed ally from Apollo raced past me like a deer, leaped through the creek, and disappeared into enemy territory. Then I heard a sound that sent a chill up my spine, a low canine growl, somewhere close by. I raised my shield instinctively; I had the feeling something was stalking me.

Something that didn't feel foreign...which was really weird. Then the growling stopped. I felt the presence retreating. On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Five Ares warriors came yelling and screaming out of the dark.

“Cream the brat!" Clarisse screamed. Her ugly pig eyes glared through the slits of her helmet. She brandished a five-foot-long spear, its barbed metal tip flickering with red light.

Her siblings had only the standard-issue bronze swords—not that that made me feel any better.

‘Great,' I thought to myself, ‘just great. I'm alone in the woods with three wannabe serial killers’.

They charged across the stream. There was no help in sight. I managed to dodge the first kid's swing, but these guys were not as stupid as the Minotaur. Plus, with the armor and shield, I was slowed down. They surrounded me, and Clarisse thrust at me with her spear. My shield deflected the point, but I felt a long, painful tingling all over my body. My hair stood on end.

My shield arm went numb, and the air burned. Electricity. Her stupid spear was electric. I fell back. Why didn't anyone warn me?!

Another Ares guy slammed me in the chest with the butt of his sword, and I hit the dirt. They could've kicked me into jelly, but they were too busy laughing.

"Give her a haircut," Clarisse said. "Grab her hair."

I managed to get to my feet. I raised my sword, but Clarisse slammed it aside with her spear as sparks flew. Now both my arms felt numb.

"Oh, wow," Clarisse said. "I'm scared of this girl. Really scared."

“The flag is that way," I told her. I wanted her to leave me alone.

"Yeah," one of her siblings said. "But see, we don't care about the flag. We care about a stupid girl who made our cabin look stupid."

“Not my fault your cabin ganged up on me and still ended up in their butts.” I told them. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say.

Two of them came at me. I backed up toward the creek and tried to raise my heavy shield, but Clarisse was too fast.

Her spear stuck me straight in the ribs. If I hadn't been wearing an armored breastplate, I would've been shish-ke-babbed. As it was, the electric point just about shocked my teeth out of my mouth.

One of her cabinmates slashed his sword across my arm, leaving a good-sized cut.

Seeing my own blood made me dizzy—warm and cold at the same time.

“No maiming!" I managed to say.

"Oops," the guy said. "Guess I lost my dessert privilege.”

He pushed me into a shadowy part of the creek, and I landed with a splash. My helmet fell off, and they all laughed. I figured as soon as they were through with being amused, I would die. I forgot for a moment that these people don't care about killing. But then something happened; I felt something in my gut.

The shadow over the creek seemed to darken, and the ground beneath the water began to shake, causing the water to ripple. My senses heightened, like an adrenaline rush was coming.

Clarisse and her cabin mates came into the creek to get me, but I stood to meet them. I knew what to do. I swung the flat of my sword against the first guy's head and knocked his helmet clean off. I hit him so hard I could see his eyes vibrating as he crumpled into the water.

Ugly Number Two and Ugly Number Three came at me.

I slammed one in the face with my shield and used my sword to shear off the other guy's horsehair plume.

Both of them backed up quickly.

Ugly Number Four didn't look really anxious to attack, but Clarisse kept coming, the point of her spear crackling with energy. As soon as she thrust, I dropped my sword, stunning her momentarily. I used the hesitation to get close and used my Krav Maga lessons to chop her spear in half with my shield.

"Ah!" she screamed. "You idiot! You corpse-breath worm!" She probably would've said worse, but I struck her in the throat the way I did her two ugly friends the day we met and sent her stumbling out of the creek, struggling to breathe.

Then I heard yelling, elated screams, and I saw Luke racing toward the boundary line with the red team's banner lifted high. He was flanked by a couple of Hermes guys covering his retreat and a few Apollos behind them, fighting off the Hephaestus kids. The Ares folks got up, and Clarisse muttered a dazed curse.

"A trick!" she shouted, as best she could. "It was a trick."

They staggered after Luke, but it was too late. Everybody converged on the creek as Luke ran across into friendly territory. Our side exploded into cheers. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven.

Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn. The game was over. We'd won.

I dropped my shield and was about to join the celebration when suddenly, I sensed someone behind me, and on instinct, and still on edge, I struck and hit—something.

I heard Annabeth's voice; she let out a pained groan-yell. I looked, but she wasn't there.

Oh shoot, right. Her invisible hat.

Suddenly the air shimmered, and she materialized, leaning forward and holding her gut as her Yankees baseball cap was clutched in her hands with a death grip.

"What was that for!?" She said angrily, but I was angry too.

"What was that for!?" I yelled back, "You set me up! You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. All part of your master plan."

Annabeth finally got back up; still, I could tell she was still a bit in pain from my strike.

“Athena always has a plan, she says". She says, sounding all high and mighty despite the pain.

"Yeah, a plan that involves me nearly dying! And you just watched! Even if I handled it, I could've used some help! I was terrified; I thought they were going to kill me!"

But Annabeth brushes away what I say; I probably sound like a big baby to her. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"My parents had me learn self-defense as soon as we moved to New York; they wanted me to be able to protect myself in a big city." I explained reluctantly.

I began wincing in pain; the adrenaline was wearing off. I leaned down against some rocks under the shade and felt the shadows cover me. It felt nice; I was starting to feel better. Then, Annabeth noticed my wounded arm.

“How did you do that?"

“I purposely let them cut with a sword," I said sarcastically. "What do you think?"

“No. It was a sword cut. Look at it." She points to my arm.

The blood was gone. Where the huge gaping cut had been, there was a long shallow cut that looked like it was healing.

“I—what—how?" I said.

Annabeth was thinking hard. I could almost see the gears turning. She looked down at my feet, then at Clarisse's broken spear, and said, "Step out of the shadows, Izzy."

“What—"

“Just do it."

I stood back up, began walking back over into the creek by Annabeth, and immediately felt bone-tired. My arms started to go numb again. My adrenaline rush had completely left me. I almost fell over, but Annabeth steadied me.

“Oh, Styx," she cursed. "This is not good. I didn't want...I assumed it would be Zeus... ."

Before I could say anything, I heard that canine growl again, but much closer than before. A howl ripped through the forest.

The campers' cheering died instantly. Chiron shouted something in Ancient Greek, which I remembered means, “Stand ready! My bow!"

Annabeth drew her sword. There, coming out of the forest, was a black hound the size of a rhino, with dark lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers. Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim.

“Di immortales!" Annabeth said. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't...they're not supposed to..."

Chiron tried to protect us from it, but it dodged his arrows and leaped on him—an enormous shadow with teeth—and just as it hit him, he stumbled backward but managed to kick the beast away; he survived without being turned into a hundred pounds of delicatessen meat.

Probably because the beast was more focused on something else. It was looking straight at me.

Nobody moved except Annabeth, who yelled, "Izzy, run!" but the hound was too fast. It jumped straight at us, and for some reason I did something that didn't make sense.

I pulled Annabeth behind me as the beast landed a few feet away from us. It bared its fangs and was right in front of me. I should have been terrified; instead, a sense of authority and bravery from I don't know where came out.

I held out one of my hands toward the giant hound and yelled, "Stop!" And when I did, the ground began to shake.

The beast stopped immediately as soon as it heard me. The ground beneath its feet gave way, and just like the Minotaur and Clarisse, it let out a pained cry as jagged rocks kept it from moving and surrounded it.

The beast's eyes changed, no longer dark, but scared. Then as it turned to me, it looked even more afraid. The most surprising part was that after, it went into a submissive position, trembling, like it was terrified of me, then let out a scared whimper as though it were a tiny dog.

Everything and everyone went silent; nothing could be heard, save for the sounds of the river.

Chiron spoke. "Someone summoned it. Someone inside the camp."

Luke came over, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone.

Clarisse yelled, "It's all Izzy's fault! Izzy summoned it!"

“Be quiet, child," Chiron told her.

Though people started speaking upon seeing what I had done, I didn't listen to any of it. I walked over to the hound, trapped in the jagged stones I knew for certain I had summoned out of the earth. I don't know why, but I felt compassion for it. I got closer to it. I stood above the giant, rhino-sized dog, and I slightly kneeled down and put my hand on its head. The beast flinched for a moment, but then I felt a connection with it; it almost reminded me of my connection with Baltimore.

I wanted the jagged stones to release the beast, and somehow, the rocks did what I wanted. The hound was free, but not like before, not acting like a savage beast, but more docile and...dog-like. After we locked eyes for a few moments, it began wagging its tail, as if sensing I had no bad intentions, and then began nuzzling my stomach with its big nose. It tickled, and I laughed. I always wanted a dog, but my mom's allergies always made it a no-no.

I turned around and saw everyone was staring at me in shock, but not at me specifically, but at something above my head.

“Izzy," Annabeth said, pointing. "Um ..."

I heard Baltimore make his signature call above my head, but by the time I looked up, the sign was already fading, but I could still make out the hologram of red light, spinning and gleaming. A symbol, one I hadn't seen on any of the cabins.

“Your father," Annabeth murmured. "This is really not good."

“It is determined," Chiron announced.

All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it.

"My parent?" I asked, completely bewildered.

“Hades," said Chiron. "Firstborn of the big three, father of the rich night, god of the dead and riches. Hail, Isabell Mira, daughter of the king of the underworld."

I stood there in utter shock, not knowing what to do.

Baltimore landed on my shoulder, letting out a loud cry and spreading his wings, as though he were confirming Chiron's statement, and to top it all off, the hound howled.

Only one thing came to my mind: I am so screwed.

Chapter Text

After several moments, Chiron had everyone return out of the forest. As I walked, I noticed people trying to walk as far away from me as possible; they were whispering far ahead, but I could hear them clearly. The rhino-sized hellhound that was still walking with me definitely scared the campers, even the Ares kids. I wondered if being claimed by Hades is why I wasn't scared of Princeton.

Yeah, I already named the dog; he's mine now. Plus Baltimore seems to like him.

“Izzy! Are you okay!?" Up ahead I heard a familiar voice; it was Rachel.

She was running over to me, and Grover wasn't far behind.

“We hear—AHH!” As soon as Rachel saw the huge, rhino-sized cane corso behind me, she stopped dead in her tracks, causing Grover to bump into her, which almost caused them to fall. Then they grabbed onto each other as they stared in shock, and probably a bit of fear, at the beast behind me.

So hellhounds scare satyrs and mortals who can see through the mist too, huh?

“U-um, Izzy…?” Rachel managed to get out. "W-what’s-“

“HELLHOUND!” Grover shouts as he points to it with one hand while holding onto Rachel with his other.

“Yep.” I respond quickly and calmly; the both of them look at me with their faces asking, How and why? “I got claimed.”

At that revelation the fear seemed to leave them, and curiosity ensued.

“Really!?” Rachel asked in excitement and shock, “Who claimed you?” She asked in a bit more worried tone, because she knew that now I knew which of my parents isn't my real parent.

Chiron stepped in, “It was Hades; the god of the dead has claimed her.” He says in a serious tone.

Rachel and Grover looked at Chiron with wide eyes, then at me with even wider ones.

Realization sets in: I’m a child of the Big Three. Grover looks at me with worry, sympathy, and… a bit of fear?

But I don’t notice, or at least I pretend not to. I’m still reeling from the fact that my dad isn’t my dad.

I start wondering if my mom had an affair, but I know she’s not like that. Questions of how are just flooding my brain when suddenly Rachel speaks up.

“Hades, huh? Isn’t he like that loner one?” She says, sounding not as shocked as she looked before.

“Yeah…?” I say slowly.

“Well, that would explain your introvertedness.” She says.

I can’t help but blink before realizing she’s right. “Yeah, I guess that does explain it.” I can’t help but smile and let out a short laugh; Rachel always knows how to make me smile.

Rachel smiled a bit herself when she saw she was successful in lifting my mood a bit; she then glanced between me and the hellhound, especially taking note of when Baltimore flew down and landed on its back. Her eyes widen with realization, and she lets out a short “hah!” Before speaking,

“You’ve already named him, haven’t you?”

“Meet Princeton.” I say with a big smile and my arms out towards the giant beast as I show him off.

“Well, you did always want a dog,” Rachel says with a smile, putting her hands on her hips. “Love to hear how you got him, though.”

“You’re keeping a hellhound as a pet?” Grover asks, his voice filled with a bit of fear and shock.

“Mhm.” I hum in response; no one’s talking me out of it. He’s the best thing I’ve gotten out of this whole claiming thing.

“I need to sit down.” Grover says, somewhat wobbly and putting one hand on his head.

That actually gave me an idea to test my new powers. I held out my hand towards the area behind Grover, then tried focusing on the ground a bit. I envisioned a slab of stone coming out of the ground, and then suddenly a large stone as tall as a high chair at a bar and as long as a bench came out of the ground quickly, shocking us. Grover the most; he's looking a little pale. I'm pretty sure he jumped.

“Whoa," Rachel exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Izzy, you just summoned a stone bench out of nowhere!"

Grover, still pale but recovering quickly, added, "Yep. You're a Hades kid."

I felt a mixture of both of Rachel's and Grover's feelings: "Well, now we have a place to sit." I say as I hop onto the top of the stone.

Rachel joins, having to jump twice to get on, and then Grover easily hops on courtesy of his goat legs.

We sat on the tall, suddenly summoned bench, just sitting in silence, processing the information, when finally I spoke, "So, what now?" I ask, looking at Grover and Rachel, and then eventually Chiron, who I kind of forgot was there for a moment.

“At least you’re out of the Hermes cabin now, right? Since you got claimed?" Rachel asks, silence is her response, “Right?” She asks again, looking at Grover and Chiron; they hesitate to answer.

I know, because I read the books, despite being one of the Big Three, Hades did not get a cabin because he was not an Olympian.

“Hades doesn't have a cabin." A voice suddenly says behind us. Startling us, but me most of all, considering, I turned around, and as if on reflex, jagged rocks came protruding out of the ground toward the voice.

It was Annabeth; she jumped out of the way just in time, though, so she wasn't harmed, and neither was her attitude.

“Watch it!" She shouted angrily.

“S-sorry!" I shouted back apologetically, "I thought we made it clear by now not to scare or sneak up on me!"

“What do you mean Hades doesn't have a cabin?" Rachel asks her as Annabeth walks in front of us beside Chiron. Annabeth rolled her eyes but didn't respond immediately.

"There are only 12 cabins because there are only 12 Olympians; Hades isn't one of them." She explains.

"Well, that's just rude. I mean, you'd think he'd at least get a cabin, being one of the big three and all," Rachel protested.

Grover, who had been silently listening, slid off the makeshift bench and spoke up, "The cabins were only built for the children of Olympians."

I could see Rachel getting mad for me, but honestly I didn't care. I knew it would be like this, but I decided that since I have powers that Percy didn't, I'm going to try to change the story.

"So from what I understand," I speak up, "I got claimed, by one of the big three no less, but I'm still supposed to stay in the Hermes cabin?"

No one responds; their silence is my answer.

"Fine then, I'll deal with it myself." Everyone looks at me confused, but not Rachel. I see a lightbulb go off in her brain, and then she starts digging through her bag. “If there's no cabin for me, I'll just make one." I say, as though it's that simple, and I turn to my best friend, “Rachel?"

“I got the sketchbook and pencils; let's get to designing it!" She says excitedly, That's what I love about my best friend; she gets where I'm going before I fully say it.

Meanwhile, Chiron, Grover, and Annabeth continue to look at us like we're crazy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Annabeth finally asks, clearly confused.

"Designing a cabin." I say simply, not looking up from the sketchbook.

"You can't just build your own cabin." Annabeth argues.

“Why not?" Rachel argues back, glancing up at her with a challenging look in her eyes, "We're artists; creating new things is what we do."

Chiron cleared his throat. "It's not that simple."

“Yes, it is," I say, finally looking up. "I don't have a cabin, so I'll make one. I have powers that could make it happen. It may not be easy, but I'll figure it out,” I say with determination. “It’ll be Cabin 13."

Annabeth looks at me, shocked. "You're serious?"

“Dead serious." I realize as I said it that it probably came across as a pun considering the circumstances.

“We'll see about that," Annabeth says like she has zero faith in our abilities. She goes to turn away, leaving Chiron and Grover to stare at me and Rachel in disbelief, but before she steps too far away, I decide to try and give her a carrot.

“You know, we could really use an architect." I say to Rachel, and I hear Annabeth freeze in her tracks.

Rachel glances at me. "An architect, huh? That would be helpful; we've never done a project of this scale before."

"Yeah, remember we tried building a miniature version of the Empire State Building for art class?"

“Oh yeah!" Rachel says with a laugh, "That was not one of our better works; we managed to pass, though, granted it was barely."

“Tell me about it; it was alright in the end, but some of the angles and measurements were off." I say as I stare at Annabeth's back for a moment, I could see her visibly flinch or cringe, maybe both.

“Well, it may not be perfect, but we'll make do. We just need to be prepared for the inevitable asymmetry." Rachel states. I throw another quick glance at Annabeth's back; her fists are starting to clench.

As we continue to sketch and plan, we talk about what we'll do when things don't turn out perfect since neither of us are professional architects, and after I see Annabeth cringe and flinch enough times from her backside, I bring up how the cabin will probably be around for a while for everyone in camp to see. I hear her turn around and walk back over to us, rather quickly at that.

She stopped on the other side of the stone bench, turned the planning table, and slammed her hands on it in front of us, quickly getting our attention and looking up at her.

“If another cabin is going to be built," Annabeth says, pausing a bit, "it better be built right." She says, her voice laced with what sounds like a reluctant surrender.

Got her.

I hold an extra pencil in my hand out towards Annabeth, who stares at me and the pencil as if debating in her mind; a second later, she snatches the pencil and begins writing numbers and measurements next to me and Rachel's designs, turning our sketches into blueprint-like plans.

Rachel gives a slightly confused look, and then, using my eyes and a bit of our best friend telepathy, I remind Rachel that Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, so she's definitely a lot smarter than us and would probably be a great help. Rachel's mouth makes a small "O," getting where I'm going, then nods before we get back to planning.

We became so engrossed in the planning, talking about which kinds of stone to use and how we'd make certain parts, that none of us noticed Grover or Chiron behind us; we were too focused. I don't think Annabeth or Rachel noticed at the time, but the two were really getting along; they definitely work well together. Then, in less than an hour, with our three minds combined, the plans were ready. I sent the stone slab back into the ground, and we made our way over to where we would build it.

Far back behind us, I could hear Grover and Chiron speak to each other, mostly in disbelief.

"I can't believe they're actually doing this," Grover said, shaking his head.

“I cannot believe they got Annabeth to join them," Chiron replied, chuckling. "There's no stopping them now."

When we got to the spot where we planned to build it, a bit of distance from the other cabins and not as close to them as they are to each other, Annabeth made some markings in the ground with a stick to serve as an outline for where I should make the stones come out.

I stepped closer to the spot where Annabeth had instructed. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused all my energy on the stones beneath the ground.

Moment of truth—let's see if I can do this.

Suddenly, a large obsidian wall came out of the areas where Annabeth marked. We’re silent in shock, not only at how fast it came out but also at the fact that I was able to do it right as well.

"It worked!" I shout in relief with my hands in the air.

Annabeth and Rachel looked at me in a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

"That's amazing!" Rachel exclaimed, just as excited and shocked as me.

Annabeth said nothing, but I could see her face. She walked over to the wall of obsidian, as if criticizing it. Finally, after she looked it over, she spoke up, "The width and length are accurate, but it's a little too tall. Can you try lowering it until I say to stop?" She asked, trying to sound unimpressed, but even I can tell she's excited.

“I’ll try.” I tell her I focus on the obsidian wall and try to make it go down, a little at a time, and slowly the wall begins to go back into the ground, until Annabeth suddenly yells, “Stop!”

I put my hands up immediately, and the stone wall stopped going down as well.

Annabeth looked at the wall again. She turned to be again, this time with a smile. “Perfect.”

Wow, she really does have a beautiful smile. I watch as Annabeth makes some more markings in the ground. As I’m making more foundations, Rachel asks an important question:

“What about plumbing, electrical, and AC systems?” She asks as she looks at the sketchbook plans in her hands.

“Oh right,” I say, genuinely thinking it over when an idea goes off in my head, “Hey Annabeth! Would the Hephaestus kids be able to build the necessary systems for the cabin?” I kind of yell to her as she inspects the foundations.

Annabeth turns around, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yeah, that's actually not a bad idea."

“Rachel, can you see if any of them are willing to help?" I ask her.

"Yeah! I'll bring back the greatest mechanic they got!" She says, already running off towards the Hephaestus cabin.

“Take Princeton with you!" I shout at her, "He can help you carry anything you may need to bring back!" I motion for Princeton to follow Rachel, and he takes off, catching up to her quickly, and they continue on towards the Hephaestus cabin.

With Rachel and Princeton gone, Annabeth and I turn our attention back to the foundations. Not long later, when Annabeth was behind the foundations, Luke came over.

“Hey, Izzy, what's this I hear about you making your own cabin?" He asks, somewhat confused, which is understandable.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like," I tell him. "I got claimed, but there was no cabin for me, so I'm making my own."

Luke stares at me, a bit like the way Grover and Chiron did. "I didn't know you could do that."

“I didn't either, till, like, just a bit ago," I tell him, shrugging modestly.

“And Chiron was alright with this?" Luke questions, raising an eyebrow.

I shrug, "He wasn't going to be able to stop me and Rachel from designing it. Plus, I think he just gave in when Annabeth decided to help too."

“Really?" Luke murmurs, and just then Annabeth's voice is heard; she yells at me from the other side of the foundations and tells me where to adjust a bit. “I can't believe you managed to get Annabeth on board." Luke says, a bit surprised, "How'd you do it?"

“I just said that the cabin probably wouldn't turn out perfect since this is my first time doing this and that we didn't have an architect." I explain.

Luke smiles and lets out a small laugh. "So that's how," he says with realization, "Annabeth's a perfectionist, plus being an architect is kind of her dream."

“Really? Huh." I say, trying to sound surprised, since I already know because I read the books.

Luke looks around before asking where Rachel is. I tell him that she went to go ask the Hephaestus kids for help with Princeton.

"Princeton?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "The hellhound from earlier." You know, the one you summoned, but I keep that last part to myself.

For a moment, it looked like Luke almost flinched.

“You named the hellhound?" He asks.

“Yep, I'm keeping him."

“Even though it was sent to attack you?"

I looked over at Luke; he slipped, just a bit, but he slipped. “How'd you know Princeton was sent to attack me?"

His eyes widen ever so slightly, but he answers, “It just looked like he was focused on you, plus that’s what other campers are saying as well.” He answers calmly; anyone else probably would’ve believed him, but because I read the books, I couldn’t, but I pretended to. I know why Luke did it, I know what he wants to happen next, but I still want to try and change his mind.

“Does this happen often?" I asked him.

“Huh?"

“Kids get claimed, but because their parent isn't one of the Olympians, they're still stuck in the Hermes cabin."

He looks serious, colder. "It does happen, sometimes."

“Well, I guess I'll add that to my to-do list." I say as I crack my knuckles.

"To-do list?" Luke asks, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, once I'm done making my cabin, I think I'm going to make some cabins for the other non-Hermes kids in cabin 11." I say casually.

Luke looks at me, a mix of emotions on his face. He looks at me, but he doesn't say anything, so I decide to say something out of his book; maybe it'll convince him not to go down the path he does in the books.

“It isn't right," I say. "It isn't right that unclaimed children or children of minor gods simply get shoved in the Hermes cabin. I can help; I can make things better for the others, or at least I can try." I say with as much seriousness as a 13-year-old can.

Luke looks at me for a moment, his expression still uncertain. Finally, he sighs and says, "Look, Izzy, I get what you're trying to do. But simply building cabins may not change anything."

But I still want to try. "You're right,"

He looks a bit taken aback.

"But you're also wrong."

He looks at me a bit confused.

"The gods have had centuries to be better parents, yet they haven't, and something tells me nothing would change even if we went against them," I saw Luke flinch out of the corner of my eye, "but I can change things down here." I looked up at Luke with hope. "I can change how I act, what I say, and what I do. I can make cabins for the kids whose godly parents aren't a part of the twelve Olympians! I can do it."

But before Luke can respond, I see Rachel running towards me, dragging with her a huge 16-year-old (I think?). He looks like a grown man—an African-American dude with ripped ballplayer muscles and a...scared scowl? If that's even possible. I also saw Princeton not far behind them, carrying stuff in his mouth.

I glance over and see Luke's already gone. I can't help but wonder, hope, if I changed anything.

"Izzy! I found a Hephaestus kid to help us!" Rachel shouts excitedly as she gets closer; when she does, I take in the demigod's features, and my eyes widen.

No way, it's him! I'm meeting him earlier than when he debuted in the books; he's probably around 16. "This is Charles Beckendorf!" Rachel tells me, and I blink, snapping myself out of my thoughts.

Charles looks at me, a bit surprised but also a bit scared. "Um...hello?" He says, a bit confused. "I was told you needed a Hephaestus kid?"

I wonder why he's so nervous when I see him throwing glances over at Princeton. Crap. I'm such an idiot to forget that hellhounds literally terrify almost everyone. I tell Princeton to put down the stuff in his mouth and go lie down before looking back at Charles.

“I'm so sorry; I just now realized what an idiot I am." I tell Charles apologetically, and he looks at me a bit confused. "I asked Rachel to go get help, and I sent Princeton with her, and I forgot he's actually pretty scary. I'm sorry. You don't have to be here if you don't want to be."

I looked down, twiddling my fingers, feeling guilty and embarrassed about probably scaring him.

His earlier nerves seem to soften a bit; he looks at me, hesitates, and then speaks.

"You're...you're really not afraid of him?" He asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

I shake my head, smiling slightly. “I mean, I get he's terrifying to everyone else, but I think being claimed by a certain god of the underworld has something to do with it."

“I see…” he says, trying to sound calm. He takes a deep breath. "So, what's this about needing help?" he asks, clearly trying to change the subject.

I call Annabeth over so me, her, and Rachel can fully explain what we're doing and what we need his help with.

Annabeth greets Charles; she calls him Beckendorf, and then we show him our sketchbook plans, the foundations, and that we were wondering if he could build the necessary house systems into the cabin.

As we're talking and discussing, Charles seems to relax more. It's like the book says, he finds machines and buildings easier than people. When we planned where everything and the systems will be placed in the cabin, we got back to making the cabin.

It was crazy how fast we got everything done. Seriously, we'd put construction companies to shame.

The hours passed by quickly as the four of us, plus Baltimore and Princeton, worked tirelessly on the cabin. And when the sun had just gone down, it was finished. We all stepped back to admire our handiwork; the cabin looked even better than the designs.

"Wow," Rachel breathed, "it looks amazing."

Charles nodded, his eyes bright with pride.

Annabeth walked around the cabin, inspecting all of it from top to bottom again, for the thirteenth time checking for anything off. Finally, she stopped. "The measurements are all exact." She says with a smile. I smile too, glad we managed to pull it off.

“I'm definitely going to need your guys' help with the other cabins." I say, leaning back.

“Other cabins?" Charles asks.

“Yeah, I plan to make other cabins for the kids whose parents aren't a part of the twelve Olympians." I say. I'm about to say more, but before I can, I feel weak, then I collapse, and everything goes dark. It seems that today's stress and events have finally caught up to me. I think Charles managed to catch me; the last thing I heard was worried voices before I faded into unconsciousness.

I had nightmares again, so it was no surprise I woke up gasping for air. I felt someone holding my hand. I looked over and saw Rachel sleeping next to me. I was about to wake her up when I heard Baltimore. He flies in, lands on my shoulder, nuzzles me affectionately, and begins lecturing me in his own raven way.

Amidst Baltimore’s many loud sounds, Rachel shuffles and wakes up. “Izzy!” She yells as she pushes me back down to the bed, hugging me, causing Baltimore to fly onto the bed frame.

“Woah—! Good morning to you too, Rachel,” I say, hugging her back. She pulls back, and we sit up.

“It’s actually ‘good early afternoon,’” she corrects. “You slept for over twelve hours!”

“Oh, right! I passed out after we finished the cabin; it took more out of me than I thought. Speaking of the cabin, have you been inside while I was asleep?” I ask her.

Rachel shakes her head. "No, not yet. I wanted to wait for you so we could see it together." She says with a warm smile that makes me feel warm inside. "We're going to have so much fun decorating," she tells me excitedly as she reaches over to her bag and pulls out the sketchbook we used to design the cabin. “I'm glad we also designed the interior with decorations too!"

“Same. The only question is where are we going to get the stuff? A lot of it probably won't be sold in stores, since we kind of designed them ourselves." I point out.

"True," Rachel responds, "Maybe Charles can help again?"

As Rachel's speaking, we hear someone walk over; it's Grover. He looks like he just saw something scary, but his expression quickly turns to relief when we make eye contact.

"Izzy!" he says, his face breaking into a grin as he sees both me and Rachel sitting up. "I'm so glad you're alright."

“Thanks, Grover. What's wrong? You look like you just cheated death." I ask.

“I think I did."

Rachel and I both gave him a confused look that said, Explain.

"Princeton's been lying outside the infirmary ever since you were brought in, and no one's tried to get too close. I’m glad he didn’t maul me for walking in here." He explains.

That makes sense. I probably wouldn't want to get too close to Princeton either if I was scared of him.

"I saw the cabin; it looks amazing. A bit scary, but mostly amazing!” he told me, clearly trying not to offend me. Probably because of what he said earlier about Hades having a cabin here would not be a good thing.

“You saw it?" I asked.

Grover nods, "Everyone in camp has seen it by now; almost everyone was inside their cabins when you were building it, so when everyone saw it this morning, they were shocked. I think some people are still looking at it."

I laugh, "Well, we did have some great help." I say, looking over at Rachel and thinking of Annabeth and Charles. I see a shadow move by the doorway. "Hello? Is someone there?" I ask and see Grover and Rachel turn towards where I'm looking.

The shadow turns the corner; it's an Asian boy with an...eye patch.

“Who are you?" Rachel asks.

"My name is Ethan Nakamura," he says, his eye focused on me. Oh dang…this is the Ethan Nakamura.

"Is it true?" He asks, snapping me out of my shock.

"Is what true?" I responded.

“That you built your own cabin and you plan to make other cabins for the minor gods and goddesses?" He asks.

I blink. I'm surprised anyone has heard the news. I only said it yesterday. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Beckendorf told his cabin, who in turn told a lot of people, plus there was a new cabin outside when I woke up." He explained it to me.

Ethan's mere presence catches me off guard, but I respond.

“Well, yeah, that's true. I mean, we built the cabin ourselves, and I do plan to make other cabins for the kids of the lesser-known gods and goddesses. I just didn't expect the news to travel so fast." I say, a bit shocked.

Ethan looks at me with a bit of hope. I see him hesitate, then he asks, "Could you build a cabin for my mother?"

Rachel looks at him more, and it looks as though she's remembered something. "I remember you! You're one of the kids from the Hermes cabin!"

“I am." He responds, "But because my mother was not deemed important enough, I'm still there." He says, sounding a bit bitter.

"Who is your mom?" Rachel asks,

"Nemesis."

“She's the goddess of balance, right?" I say, and Ethan looks at me, seemingly surprised that I know that.

“Yes, she's a minor goddess, so she doesn't have a cabin." He looks down. I get how Ethan feels. I’d probably still be in the Hermes cabin too if it weren’t for my powers.

“Alrighty then, make me some designs, run them by Charles and Annabeth for systems and proper measurements, and I'll see what I can do." I tell Ethan as I lean back on the palms of my hands. Ethan's face is covered in surprise.

"R-Really?" He says, a smile hesitating to show on his face.

"Why not? But I'm definitely going to rest a bit before attempting to build another cabin; the last one took a lot out of me." I responded.

Ethan nods, still in disbelief. "Thank you,"

"Be sure to tell the other kids in the Hermes cabin who aren't Hermes' that I’ll do the same for them if they give me designs too." I tell him, and Ethan nods again and takes his leave. For a moment, he looks excited and hopeful.

Grover clears his throat, "You're really going to build more cabins, Izzy?"

“Yeah, just because a demigod's parent isn't a member of the twelve Olympians doesn't mean they should be shoved in the Hermes cabin forever." I tell Grover.

Rachel chimes in, "Speaking of cabins, let's go check out yours!"

We headed out of the room and towards the cabin I designed. I wanted to be something I could definitely live in, so it's probably a lot different from the other cabins, but I love the way it turned out. Baltimore let out a sound of approval as well.

“I can't wait to see the inside!" Rachel says excitedly.

“But why?" I say with a smile-laugh, "It's going to be bare, and you were there when it was built."

“And!? We get to imagine how it'll look with the stuff we drew our designs on!" She says as she opens the sketchbook to a certain page, "Look! Here's the design for how it'll look when we enter!" She says, holding the sketchbook in front of our faces, "Just think, soon the place inside will match our designs!" She opens the door to the cabin, with the sketchbook still covering our faces. "One day when we walk in here the place will be—" she puts down the sketchbook, and we look into the cabin, completely shocked, "fully furnished!?" She says in disbelief. We stand there, shocked by the sight before us.

The interior of the cabin matched our designs to a T.

"Izzy, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Rachel asks me, still in shock from the sight before us.

“The interior of the cabin matches our designs perfectly despite neither of us being in here to decorate it? Yep."

“Are we dreaming?"

“Maybe, Grover, are you seeing this too?" I get no response. "Grover?"

Both I and Rachel turn around to see Grover behind us looking inside the cabin in shock with his mouth and eyes wide open.

“So I’ll take that as a yes to being able to see what’s inside too.” I say the frozen satyr.

“Let’s check out the inside!” Rachel says excitedly, which snaps Grover out of his daze.

“What!?” He spouts nervously, “You want to go inside the cabin that has been mysteriously fully furnished despite no one going in there!?”

“Yeah! I want to see if this mystery decorator got our rooms right too.” Rachel answers, and quite frankly, I’m curious as well. “Come on, let's go inside!” Rachel says, waving us along, I’m walking inside with her when we hear Grover say, ‘Nuh-uh! I’m not going inside the scary cabin! Neither should the two of you!”

I and Rachel looked at each other, nodded, grabbed Grover by the arms, and pulled him into the cabin before he could protest further, closing the door behind us.

“Are you guys crazy!? We’re going to—“

“Be fine!” I tell Grover as I finish his sentence, “We’ve survived the giant half-man, half-bull! This is way less scary! Mysterious as heck, but not scary.”

“What Izzy said! Now come with me! I want to see how much of the other areas match the designs too!" Rachel says excitedly, grabbing us by the hands and dragging us away.

The first place we went to see was the guest room. I knew I probably wouldn't have any siblings, but it's better to be prepared, and if Hades starts popping out more, I'll just add an extension.

The inside was simply decorated and had two twin beds, two small windows with curtains, and a wall divider so that there could be some form of privacy.

Next we went to the bathroom; after the incident with Clarisse, there was no way I was risking using the public bathrooms here. It gave off dark luxury-hotel bathroom vibes, which was a huge improvement from the other bathrooms.

There was a sink in the center right when we walked in, with a large mirror above it.

To the right was a corner bathtub that had corner windows to match, and, luckily, there were easy-to-use curtains to cover them when privacy was needed. To the left was a shower with glass enclosures. In the corner by that and the door was a very clean toilet with a plunger and toilet cleaner beside it. On the walls by the door there were towel bar hangers and shelves and cabinets for storage.

We walked past the living room area, which we saw when we first opened the door. It had a modular sectional sleeper sofa couch with storage seats, just like I had seen in furniture stores! The couch was currently arranged like a giant square, covered in blankets and pillows! It’s so big Princeton could probably fit in it! Perfect for late-night movies! Speaking of movies, there’s a TV and DVD player in front of the couch! We’ll need to grab some movies to play in it, though.

We made our way to the small kitchen under the loft. There was a small table beside it with chairs to eat at. The corners of the entrance were arch-like. The counters were made of obsidian marble, and the oven, stove, sink, dishwasher, cabinets, and fridge all matched as well. It would be the perfect place to do some private cooking.

I saw a strangely placed rug on the floor and remembered what I put under there. I moved over the rug and saw a hidden tile floor hatch. I opened it and saw the basement I designed down there, full of storage, a mirror wall, and workout areas to practice my martial arts.

Then we made our way to Rachel’s room; when we entered, it was just like the rest of the sketches, matching the design perfectly. It was just like an art studio; all the things Rachel loved were inside: art supplies, colorful decorations, you name it!

“Are you guys seeing this!?” She asks me and Grover with the biggest smile on her face, “It’s just like how I designed it!” Her excitement was contagious; she was practically bouncing off the walls. After she gave me and Grover a tour of everything, it was time for the last spot: my room.

We walked back over to the loft above the kitchen; it’s my room. We climbed up the ladder, and I slid apart the two sliding doors. My jaw fell to the floor; I’m pretty sure Baltimore’s did too. My bed had a black canopy, there was a bay window with curtains and pillows, a desk with a table easel for my art, chests for storage, a closet, and shelves for display and books. It was just how I wanted it.

“Izzy! It’s just like how you wanted it!” Rachel said excitedly, speaking what I was thinking.

I was too stunned to speak, but I was even more excited than Rachel.

Grover was looking around completely stunned. “I can’t believe you guys designed your own rooms.”

“Why not?” I said, “Based on the whole ‘the big three aren’t supposed to have kids speech, I don’t think I’m going to be sharing, and I did make a guest room.”

I began looking inside the storage with Baltimore still perched on my shoulder while Rachel and Grover sat at the bay window looking outside all lovey-dovey, like they’re having a cheesy romantic movie moment. Seriously, just kiss already!

After going through the storage and finding a strange amount of clothes like my own but in Hades’ aesthetic and a chest full of gold coins that are probably drachmas from the books, I made my way over to my bed.

I pulled back the canopy, and on the mattress I saw two things: a small square black box with carvings and a Camp Half-Blood shirt, but the shirt wasn’t like the others; it was black and white.

Well, I always did look better in black than orange. Honestly, I’m not complaining; it’s probably safer to wear anyway. I mean, if Chiron wanted the campers to be safe from monsters, why would he put them in easy-to-see bright orange t-shirts? Never made sense.

I picked up the small black chest, and inside was a black ring. It was a fidget ring; I always wanted one! There were Roman numerals on it, and as soon as I saw it was a fidget ring, I did the one thing I had to do: fidget. Only, when I moved the band, it wasn't a ring anymore. It was a black sword.

I immediately dropped the weapon upon seeing it turn from a piece of jewelry into something that would definitely get me arrested. Baltimore let out a shocked sound, and Grover and Rachel looked over at me when the weapon banged on the ground, snapping them out of their moment.

“Izzy, what was that?” Rachel asked, not seeing the weapon I dropped on the floor behind the bed.

“I—uh—I…ring?” I stumble out.

Rachel and Grover look at me like I’m in shock. I probably am. I go down to pick up the sword, and when it’s in Grover and Rachel’s view, they seem just as shocked as me.

“Where did that come from!?” Grover asked as Rachel was already coming closer to me.

“You’re going to call me crazy, but this was a fidget ring two seconds ago.”

“Can I hold it?” Rachel asks, and before I can respond, I hear Grover shout:

“No! Don’t!” In a panic as he rushed over to us, “I’m pretty sure that’s Stygian Iron.”

“Stygian what now?” Rachel asks, very confused.

“Stygian Iron,” Grover repeats, “You know how demigods here use celestial bronze and that it can’t harm mortals?”

Rachel nods, “It’s essentially magic metal that can destroy monsters, right?”

Grover nods, then continues, “Stygian iron is like that, but much more dangerous. It can harm mortals, and monsters slain by it don't reform.”

Rachel’s eyes go wide, then confused. “If it’s so powerful, then why haven’t we seen other demigods here use it?”

“Stygian Iron is mined and forged in the Underworld and cooled in the River Styx; because of this, the only known demigods who can wield it are children of Hades.” Grover explains.

I wave the sword around a bit, and, surprisingly, it feels balanced in my hands. I notice the Roman numerals I saw on the ring at the bottom of the hilt. I turn the numbers, and the sword suddenly turns into a…two-pronged spear?

Me, Grover, and Rachel all share a wide-eyed look before I break the silence.

“Uh, is it normal for Stygian Iron to do that?” I asked Grover because I read nothing about this in the books.

“I…don’t know? I’ve heard of magic transforming weapons before, but this is strange,” he says, bringing his hand to his chin. “How did you get it to change forms anyway?”

“I just shifted the numbers.”

“Shifted the numbers?” Grover said with his head tilted.

“Yeah, at first it was a fidget ring, and the band had Roman numerals on it.”

“How many?”

“12, I think.”

“Does that mean you have twelve different weapons in one?” Rachel says with an excited smile, and I gasp when I realize she might be right and get excited too. We both don’t fully notice how nervous that possibility makes Grover.

“I have no idea, but let’s find out!” I say excitedly as I begin twisting the numbers.

Rachel was right; the ring can turn into twelve different weapons depending on the Roman numerals. I is the sword, II is the bident (Grover finally told me what it is), III is a dagger, IV is a shield, V is a whip, VI is a scythe (which I probably won’t use a lot), VII is a bow, VIII is some kind of war hammer, IX is a battle axe, X is a gauntlet, XI is a mace, and XII is a very dangerous-looking boomerang.

Part of me wonders if the boomerang was added because nothing else could be thought of.

I also discovered that if I spin the fidget ring band really fast, it turns back into a regular fidget ring. So yay!! I’ll be able to use it as an actual fidget ring! I just need to be careful not to go too slow or risk stabbing someone.

Rachel and I were having fun with my new weapon while Grover seemed to be having a crisis of some kind. As cool as the many weapons were, I don’t actually know how to properly use any of them; I see a lot of training in my future.

“Who do you think gave it to you?” Rachel asked me.

“Honestly? Probably whoever decorated the cabin.” I reply.

“Do you think it was your—“ Rachel closed her mouth quickly, then looked as though she was trying to find another word. “Hades?” She finally says.

I know she was probably about to call him my dad, and I’m glad she didn’t.

“I dunno. Grover? Is that possible?” I ask the satyr.

My question seems to snap Grover out of his crisis. “I mean, it is possible. The gods do sometimes give gifts to their children.”

“But the guy didn’t even leave a note,” Rachel says as she picks up the box where I got the ring and shakes it. She then looks over and sees the black and white Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. “No way these come in black and white!”

“Uh, no.” Grover says,

“That was on my bed with the ring.” I tell Rachel.

“Then yeah, Hades is probably a secret gift giver.” Rachel says as she holds the shirt, “Literally all the weapons are giving spooky vibes, and the t-shirt is straight up black.” She puts her hand down on the sheets, and she looks shocked. She feels them again. “Izzy! You’ve got to feel these sheets!”

I go over to the bed and put my hand on the bed, and I gasp, then look at Rachel. “It’s just how I like it.” I say in disbelief.

My skin is very sensitive; finding the right sheets and blankets that don’t bother me and allow me to sleep isn’t easy. I feel the pillows and the sheets under the blankets; they’re just right too!

“This is awesome!” I yell, say, and then jump stomach first on the bed, causing Rachel to yelp and go slightly airborne and land on her feet.

We look at each other, laugh, and then Rachel jumps on the bed really hard, causing me to go airborne and land on my back on the mattress. We laugh again. I turn on my side and come face-to-face with a pillow. I had an impulsive thought. I debated not doing it, but the impulsive thought won. I grabbed the pillow and threw it at Rachel.

She fell backwards, then quickly got back up. She looked at me with a challenging look, then threw the pillow back at me. I grabbed another pillow and threw it back at her. The Pillow Fight Wars had begun.

“Are you two seriously having a pillow fight?” Grover asked.

Rachel and I looked at each other, donned matching mischievous smiles, and then turned towards Grover.

His eyes went wide. “Don’t you dare—“ he said, taking a step back, but we launched the pillows at him before he could do anything else. He stared at us, then said, “Oh, it’s on!” He grabs the two pillows we threw at him, and now we’re in a full battle royale pillow fight.

It was so stupid and so fun. Acting like kids we are. For as long as that pillow fight went on, everything seemed right; I was just a kid having fun with my friends.

But I’m not just a kid anymore, and things don’t stay simple.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Rachel and I fully unpacked all our stuff from our bags. I had plenty of room for all my stuff, and I placed the Minotaur's horn on one of my shelves, and Baltimore had claimed one of my pillows as his personal sleeping spot.

I got to sit at my own dinner table (which I had to build too) with Rachel and Baltimore, and Grover would join too. I pick all my own activities, call "lights out" whenever I feel like it, and not listen to anybody else.

And while I wasn’t as miserable as I could've been, I still felt…not all that great.

Like when Percy was claimed, everyone avoided me as though I had some rare disease, save for a few.

Nobody talked about Princeton when I was looking, but I could hear them talking about the hellhound that sleeps outside my cabin when they thought I wasn’t listening. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that I was the daughter of the god of the underworld; and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill me, unless they were hellhounds, maybe.

A lot of other campers steered clear of me as much as possible.

Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with me after what I'd done to the Ares folks in the woods, so my lessons with Luke became one-on-one. He pushed me harder than ever and wasn't afraid to bruise me up in the process.

"You're going to need all the training you can get," he promised, as we were working with swords and shields; at least I was learning how to use two of the twelve weapons from my ring. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions."

We trained privately and alone. Baltimore would watch from the trees, and Princeton was always not far away, on guard, ready to charge Luke at a moment's notice. Princeton doesn’t like Luke, probably because he knows the truth. Campers don’t notice or point it out because they think Princeton’s just a monster; he’s not, though—he’s looking out for me. Luke doesn’t know what I know, but if things go the way they do in the books, I’m going to need this training, but I’m still going to try and change the story.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

Annabeth still taught me and Rachel Greek in the mornings, but she seemed distracted. Every time I said something, she scowled at me, and Rachel was not afraid to call her out for it. I had hoped building a cabin with her would make her less hostile to me, but I guess she was so caught up in the moment she forgot I was claimed by Hades; now she stares at me like some of the other campers.

After lessons, she would walk away muttering to herself, "Quest...Hades?...Dirty rotten...Got to make a plan..."

Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill me for breaking her magic spear.

Charles and Ethan talked to me at least, granted it was usually about cabin building, but Charles seemed to eventually get a little less nervous around me, unless Princeton was around.

I was used to being ignored, especially at school, save for Rachel, Grover, and some teachers. I wasn’t good with most people; I just wished they’d stop talking about me. I thought about telling them I could hear them, but that would probably not stop them; they’d probably just talk more.

I knew somebody at camp resented me, because one night after dinner I found a morning newspaper dropped outside my cabin door, a copy of the New York Daily News from a while ago. I recognized the date; my heart sank. It was the day of my dad’s funeral, but what really caught my attention was the article’s title:

FREAK EARTHQUAKE STRIKES NEW YORK BY EILEEN SMYTHE

A magnitude 7 earthquake came out of nowhere, causing mass destruction, and stopped as fast as it started. Property, buildings, and people all felt the earthquake. Chasms opened in the ground and then closed up when the earthquake stopped; many scars cover the city. There was no warning about the earthquake, and many people are still missing.

Police urge anyone with information on the missing people to call the following number.

At the bottom in red marker was written: MONSTER.

I’d been bullied before; it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t like this. Back then at least the bullies would have the balls to say what they were thinking to my face.

I didn’t think much about the earthquake when it happened, probably because I was still dealing with my grief over my dad, but seeing this makes me wonder if they’re right. What if I am a monster?

I clenched the paper in my hands. Rachel asked me what was wrong. I tried to hide the paper, but Rachel quickly saw it and got it from me. When she read the paper and saw the writing, I saw her get mad, like really mad.

She marched out towards the other cabins as other demigods were returning from dinner as well and then proceeded to yell her head off. She called them all cowards, saying they were too scared to say what they were thinking to my face and that she had met preschoolers with more guts than them. Baltimore had her back as he was perched on her shoulder, ready to go after anyone. She also put Annabeth’s Greek lessons to use and was not afraid to use any of the less-than-kind phrases to rip the campers a new one.

I had to physically pull her away back to the cabin before one of the demigods actually tried to kill her, because while I know Rachel was willing to throw hands, she would absolutely get destroyed. Her blue hairbrush can only do so much.

Grover came over while I was dragging Rachel; he asked what was going on, to which Rachel shoved the newspaper at him. His eyes went wide; he said that whoever did this was just being a jerk and that he would tell Chiron about this. I told him it was pointless as I walked back inside my cabin and collapsed on my bed and felt Baltimore snuggle beside me as I went to bed.

That night, I had my worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair (I could barely see their faces). Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one. Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

Then I saw another man, black-robed, join the fight, not willingly, but as though he had been dragged in by the green-robed one, then forced to stay by the blue-robed one.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

“Come down, little hero,” the voice crooned. “Come down!”

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I woke up, sure I was falling, but I wasn't; I was still in my bed in cabin thirteen. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. Baltimore nudged at my side, concerned. I pet him and then pulled him into a hug.

Then, I heard a clopping sound down at the door, then a knocking sound so loud it woke Rachel up.

We groggily went to the door; Baltimore was practically a puddle on my shoulder.

We opened the door, and it was our favorite satyr.

Grover trotted inside, looking worried at me. "Mr. D wants to see you."

"Why?" I asked, too tired to deal with this.

"He wants to kill...I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

I groaned. This isn’t going to be fun. Rachel and I got dressed and followed Grover, who I think figured by now there was no point trying to fight Rachel.

I petted Princeton before we left and told him to be good. When he’s not with me, he’s either napping or in the woods doing who knows what. I was scared what the campers might do to him, but he seems smart enough to not get killed by them.

I wondered when If I'd be summoned to the Big House; Now that I have been I’m beyond nervous. I fidgeted with my ring. I asked Grover to hold off telling Chiron because I wanted to tell him myself first (eventually). I never used it against Luke or any of the other campers; I practiced with it in my basement. If I have to fight Luke one day, I don’t want him knowing what I’ve got.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. Rachel asked Grover if we needed an umbrella.

"No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

She pointed at the storm. "What’s that, then?"

He glanced uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realized he was right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm...this one was huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs.

Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Rachel, and I, with Baltimore on my shoulder, walked up to the front porch of the Big House.

Baltimore flew and landed on the railing.

Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair; it was weird seeing him go in and out of that thing. They were playing against invisible opponents—two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity.”

I waited.

"Come closer," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Corpse Breath is your father."

A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said.

Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. I always forget how intimidated he was by Dionysus in the books.

"If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Girl wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dog instead, then sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D—" Chiron warned. Baltimore let out a warning sound as well. Rachel would’ve joined as well if Grover didn’t put his hand on her shoulder, telling her not to.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the girl is still here when I get back, I'll turn her into a chihuahua. Do you understand? And Lizzy Milo, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

Dionysus said as he got my name wrong again and picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass.

He snapped his fingers.

The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Izzy, please. And Grover and Rachel as well."

We did.

Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

“Tell me, Izzy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

"Princeton scared me at first," I said. "Yeah, I got him to listen to me, but had things been different, he may have killed me."

"You'll meet worse, Izzy. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done...with what?" Rachel asks.

"Her quest, of course.” He says to Rachel before looking back at me, “Will you accept it?"

I glanced at Grover, who was crossing his fingers. Then to Rachel, who glanced back at Chiron.

"Um, sir," she said, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I said. "They're fighting over something valuable... something that was stolen, aren’t they?"

Chiron and Grover exchanged looks.

Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

My face felt hot. Like Percy, I wished I hadn't opened my big mouth. "The weather's been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover said.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.

"But it is her quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Izzy, you are correct. Poseidon and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

"A what ?" Rachel said with her head tilted.

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long lightning bolt made of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh," Rachel said.

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne, is the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers".

"And it's missing?" Rachel asks.

"Stolen," Chiron said.

"By who?"

"By whom?" Chiron corrected Rachel. Once a teacher, always a teacher.

“By Izzy."

My and Rachel’s mouths fell open.

“At least, Chiron held up up a hand, that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes a human hero stole it."

"But—"

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. Cutting me off before I could even understand how I’d fit into all this, I’m not even Poseidon’s kid.

"Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt.”

“But how do I fit into this? Hades claimed me.” I said, very confused.

Chiron grimaces slightly, “Because…Poseidon blamed you.”

It’s completely silent for a moment.

“Excuse me?” I say, with the slightest bit of anger in my voice.

“When Hades openly claimed you as his daughter, Poseidon took the opportunity to try and shift the blame and Zeus’ attention onto you. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus is still fighting with Poseidon, but he believes he has found his thief."

"Are you kidding me?!” Rachel said, outraged, “Crazy fish-man is trying to blame Izzy!”

“I’ve never even been to Olympus! I don’t know how to get there! Zeus is crazy!" I say outraged as well.

Chiron and Grover glanced nervously at the sky and the ocean. The clouds didn't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They were rolling straight over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Rachel…? Izzy...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the lord of the sky and the lord of the sea.”

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question thirty-eight. I remember a lot from his class, but he can’t expect me to remember a specific question from a test I never took since I exempted it.

"Something about a golden net?" I tried to remember. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods...they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?"

"Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But I've got nothing to do with it!"

“Izzy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your other brother, who you had held a grudge against, suddenly admitted he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you.... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I didn't do anything.” I try not to spill too much of what I know. “Poseidon, he didn't steal the bolt, did he?"

Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But Zeus is not easily convinced; your being here has only made this more complicated, with Zeus now accusing you and Poseidon. Hades has been dragged into it as well but refuses to say anything. Zeus has demanded that the bolt be returned to him by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. And your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down, and soon I believe the situation will get much worse. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Izzy?"

“It would be horrible.” I said.

"Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians were forced to choose sides between Zeus, Poseidon, and even Hades. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight."

"Horrible," I repeated.

"And you, Izzy Mira, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky.

I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me. Because Poseidon tried to shift the blame to me. I was furious. Two grown gods trying to blame a child not even two decades old.

"So let me guess. You want me to find the stupid bolt," I said. "And return it to Zeus."

"It would be a great peace offering," Chiron said, “to not only clear your name but to settle the quarrel.”

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Rachel asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me now. But before I can say more, Izzy must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Rachel points out.

"Because if I did, Izzy may not accept the challenge."

I know why I should refuse the quest, but I know what happens if I don’t. I guess I’m the new Percy Jackson.

I swallowed. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly. Easy for him. I was the one Zeus wanted to kill.

I then looked at Rachel, who was telling me with her eyes that this was crazy but that she’d have my back no matter what.

"All right," I said. "It's better than being turned into a chihuahua, I guess."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Izzy Mira, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor. I pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place.

It was just as gross as it had been described. By the window, I saw the mummy Oracle. I always felt bad for what happened to her, but wait…I wonder if she's like this for the same reason in the books.

I looked at the Oracle. She wore a tie-dyed sundress, lots of beaded necklaces, and a headband over long blonde hair. The skin of her face was thin and leathery over her skull, and her eyes were glassy white slits, as if the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; she'd been dead a long, long time.

She sat up on her stool and opened her mouth. A green mist poured from the mummy's mouth, coiling over the floor in thick tendrils, hissing like twenty thousand snakes. It took everything in me not to try and run.

Inside my head, I heard a voice slithering into one ear and coiling around my brain:

I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask.

I wanted to say, Nope, wrong door. Do the right thing and walk away. But I forced myself to take a deep breath.

The mummy wasn't alive. She was some kind of gruesome receptacle for something else, the power that was now swirling around me in the green mist. But its presence didn't feel evil, not like the Minotaur.

I got up the courage to ask, "What is my destiny?"

The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of me and around the table with the pickled monster-part jars. Suddenly there were four men sitting around the table, playing cards. Their faces became clearer. It was all of my least favorite teachers over the years and many schools I’ve been to.

My fists clenched, and I wondered if my prophecy would be the same…or differnt.

My first grade teacher turned toward me and spoke in the rasping voice of the Oracle:

You shall go west and face the god who has turned.

Ok, that’s the same. That’ll be fun to deal with.

My third-grade teacher on the right looked up and said in the same voice,

You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned.

So I won't fail; that's good at least!

My sixth-grade geography teacher on the left then said, You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.

I feel my heart sink.

Finally, my eighth-grade math teacher delivered the worst line of all:

And you shall fail to change what matters most, in the end.

That’s different from what Percy got; he got the word “save” for his mom, and I got “change.”

The figures began to dissolve. I wanted to ask more, but the figures dissolved before I could say anything more.

The tail of the mist snake disappeared into the mummy's mouth. She reclined back against the wall. Her mouth closed tight, as if it hadn't been open in a hundred years. The attic was silent again, abandoned, nothing but a room full of mementos.

I got the feeling that I could stand here until I had cobwebs, too, and I wouldn't learn anything else.

My audience with the Oracle was over, and all I was left with were questions.

“Well?" Chiron and Rachel asked me.

I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen."

Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."

My ears were still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She...she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover said with relief.

Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

And like Percy, I hid part of what the oracle said. It would raise questions that would require answers I wouldn’t know how to give.

"No," I said. "That's about it."

He studied my face. "Very well, Izzy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I got the feeling he knew I was holding back something bad, and he was trying to make me feel better. If only he knew.

"Okay," Rachel said, anxious to change topics. "So what now? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, well, let’s think," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?"

"Somebody else who wants to take over.” I said, I know who wants to take over, but it’s not who Chiron guessed.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have broken, and now he himself has claimed a half-blood.”

I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from under the ground. Had I not read the books, I would’ve thought it was Hades too. I didn’t speak up, but Rachel did:

"Hades." She said with a worried expression.

Chiron nodded. "The lord of the dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?"

"A Hellhound came after Izzy." Chiron reminded him.

"But that’s crazy! Why would Hades send a hellhound after his own daughter!?" Rachel protested.

"Perhaps he wanted to take Izzy away or deal with her," Chiron said darkly.

I saw Grover and Rachel shudder.

Wow. Hades does not have the greatest rep with Chiron.

“Hellhounds can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He would very much not like to have to deal with any more problems."

"Great," I muttered. So all of the big three want me dead, just great. But something doesn’t add up. Yeah, Hades wasn’t getting any Dad of the Year award, but I read the books; I know the truth.

"But a quest to..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon first. I don't pretend to understand the lord of the dead's motives perfectly, why he decided to claim Izzy, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Izzy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

We sat there in silence. I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to shout what I knew, but who would believe me?

Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

I share his anxiety; after all, this is suicide.

"Look, if you know it's Hades," Rachel told Chiron, "why can't you just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. The gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation.

That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere and challenge anyone as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"So I'm being used." I say flatly.

"You have been claimed by Hades. It's a very risky gamble, but we’re in a desperate situation. The world needs you." Chiron tells me.

The world needs me huh?

I looked at Chiron. "You've known who I was all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions, but…” He paused. He probably thought I was a child of the Big Three, but I don’t think he was expecting Hades. “As I said...I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

I knew he was holding back, but I decided I couldn't worry about that right now. After all, I was holding back information too.

"So let me get this straight," I said. "I'm supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the lord of the dead, the guy who claimed me and according to you may want me dead."

"Check," Chiron said.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

I gulped and nervously looked over at my best friend.

“Rachel…?” I said nervously and softly.

“Oh, you know I’m coming with you!” Rachel said without hesitation.

“Wha—are you sure? This is basically a suicide mission; you don’t have to—“

“You’re crazy if you think I’m not going with you. There is nothing you can do to stop me. I am coming with you, and that’s that!” Rachel says with finality.

We’re all silent for a moment.

“Oh, thank goodness!” I said as I sighed in relief and pulled Rachel into a big hug.

I felt so relieved I wanted to cry, though I didn't think that would be very heroic. Rachel’s the first real friend I've made in a long time. I wasn't completely sure what good a blue hairbrush could do against whatever we’d be dealing with, but I felt better knowing Rachel would be with me.

I looked at Grover, who had an ace of hearts stuck in his mouth. Chiron gave a similar look to me and Rachel.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re taking Rachel on a quest!?” Grover said in disbelief after choking out the card.

“I’m afraid I share Grover’s concerns as well,” Chiron states. “Quests are usually attempted by three demigods and are extremely dangerous, for a mortal to—“

“Chiron,” Rachel says, interrupting my former Latin teacher, “you are sending my best friend away on a suicide mission, and you expect me to sit back and watch?”

“Rachel—“

“I’m going.”

“But—“

“No buts!”

Chiron looks at me; he knows I won’t help him, so he looks at the satyr. Now it was Grover’s turn to try and talk her out of it.

“Rachel, are you sure about this?” He asks nervously,

“Of course I am! Think about it! If I go, not only will I help Izzy, but I can help you too!”

Grover and I give her a confused look before she explains, “You said saving me back in the forest complicated whether or not you would get your searcher’s license, right?”

“Rachel! I—“

She cuts him off, then looks at Chiron, “If I go with Izzy and the quest is a success, that will prove Grover made the right choice saving me“! And that he deserves his searcher's license!” She tells Chiron with hope.

My eyes and Grover’s went wide. Dang, Rachel, that is smart.

Chiron seems to process the information in his head, as though he’s debating with himself. He looks at Rachel again after some moments; he knows there’s no way he can talk Rachel out of this. He lets out a defeated sigh as he brings his hand to his forehead.

“That would…indeed prove Grover made the right choice.” Chiron says.

“Yes! I’m going on a quest!” Rachel says with her hands in the air, "So where do we go?"

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?" she asked.

Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

"Oh," Rachel said. "So we just get on a plane—"

"No!" Grover shrieked. "Rachel, what are you thinking?“

“I was thinking of the fastest way to get to Los Angeles.”

"Rachel, think," Chiron said. "Izzy is the daughter of the god of the underworld. Her father and his brother are not on the best terms, especially now. She would be in Zeus's domain and would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.

"Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron said. "Two companions may accompany you. Rachel is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help."

"Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "I wonder who would volunteer for a quest like this?"

The air shimmered behind Chiron.

Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, zombie brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of Hades, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say, so Percy was a seaweed brain for Poseidon, and now I’m a zombie brain? Is that because of Hades? I haven’t even raised a zombie or a skeleton! ”I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks colored. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth was, I did. I needed all the help I could get.

"A trio," I said. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."

Chapter Text

It didn't take me long to pack. I decided to only pack essentials like an extra change of clothes, a toothbrush, food for Baltimore, and a sketchbook to remember important things (or doodle when I get bored).

The camp store loaned me twenty golden drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions.

The store would have loaned us mortal dollars, but there was no need for that; we had Rachel.

Chiron gave Annabeth and me each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies if we were seriously hurt. It was good food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally. It also meant Rachel had to be extra careful.

Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told me had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector.

Rachel wore one of her oversized shirts and jeans that she was definitely going to doodle on and poke holes in. Her backpack was full of snacks, maps, sketching materials, and her blue hairbrush.

We waved goodbye to some of the other campers. I said goodbye to Princeton and told him to keep an eye on things while I was gone. I also told him to keep an eye on Luke and who he talked to. I took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House. We hugged Grover goodbye. I began walking away first when I noticed Rachel was still hugging Grover. I turned around and saw her whisper something to him and then give him a kiss on the cheek dangerously close to his lips. Grover was stunned in shock, and before he could say anything, Rachel yelled, “See you later!” and ran towards me, dragging me away, very red in the face.

I laughed.

“It’s not funny!” Rachel said, very embarrassed.

We then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Poseidon. And not Zeus—that’s going to take some getting used to.

Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. He was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face, and neck.

"This is Argus," Chiron told me. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I heard footsteps behind us.

Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. Oh no, I knew what he was going to do.

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around. I knew she had a crush on him. With no Percy here, would that stay the same?

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told me. "And I thought...um, maybe you could use these."

He handed me the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. But I knew what they were.

Luke said, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, I dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.

"Woah," Rachel said. But she began squinting her eyes as though trying to get a better look at them.

Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turned sad.

Had I not known what I know, I might’ve blushed like Annabeth.

"Thanks,” I said.

"Listen, Izzy ..." Luke looked uncomfortable. I think I know why. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just...kill some monsters for me, okay?"

Luke shook hands with me and Rachel, but she kept eyeing the shoes like something was wrong with them. Luke then gave a goodbye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out.

After Luke was gone, I told Annabeth, "You're hyperventilating."

"I am not."

"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?"

"Oh...why do I want to go anywhere with you, Izzy?"

“Because you want to go on a quest,” I told her.

She looked like she was about to say something else, but she stomped down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road.

Argus followed, jingling his car keys.

Rachel picked up the flying shoes and looked as though she had a bad feeling.

“Something’s up with these shoes.” She said, That was when I remembered how good Rachel’s clear sight is.

“How so?” I ask her, hoping to maybe give Chiron a hint.

“It’s like…there’s something on them.” She says, “We probably shouldn’t use these.”

Chiron and I look at the shoes; neither of us can see what Rachel sees, probably because of how amazing her clear sight is.

Chiron looked at both of us. "I agree with Rachel; taking to the air...that would not be wise for you, Izzy."

I nodded, then put the sneakers away.

Rachel began to walk to the car, but Chiron caught my arm.

"I should have trained you better, Izzy," he said. "If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason—they all got more training."

"That's okay. I mean—"

I stopped myself because I debated telling Chiron about my ring.

"What am I thinking?" Chiron cried. "I can't let you get away without this."

He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and handed it to me. It was an ordinary disposable ballpoint pen with black ink and a removable cap. Oh boy, I knew what this was.

"Izzy, that's a gift from Poseidon. It was supposed to be for his daughter. I've kept it for years, and since Thalia cannot use it, it should be you. The prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one."

Could this really be...?

I took off the cap, and the pen grew longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs.

Surprisingly, it felt good in my hand, but not as balanced as the Stygian weapon(s).

"The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told me. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"'Riptide,'" I translated, I can’t believe I’m holding THE Riptide.

It didn’t feel right to have this; I decided to tell Chiron about my ring.

“Thank you, Chiron, but you don’t need to give this to me.”

Chiron gave me a confused look. I moved my fidget ring to the first Roman numeral, and it turned into a black sword.

“Izzy! Where did you get that!?” Chiron asked, looking ready to jump out of his wheelchair.

“I’m pretty sure Hades gave it to me.” I said.

“Do you know what that is made of?” He asks me with seriousness,

“Stygian iron. It can hurt mortals and monsters, right?”

He looks at me, seemingly surprised I know that. “How do you know that?”

“Grover gave me the rundown.”

Chiron sighed, then looked as though he was about to give Grover more than just extra homework assignments.

I guess Grover really didn't tell him about the ring. Thanks, G-man.

“Izzy, that is a very dangerous weapon; not only can it harm monsters and mortals, it can absorb their essence and souls. I must ask that you only use it as a last resort.”

I nodded, turned the sword back into a ring, and held Riptide back out to Chiron, who shook his head.

“I would prefer if you kept it, and if you find yourself in a scenario where you must fight, I’d recommend using it. It’s safer than the Stygian blade.” He said.

Safer for the monsters and mortals, maybe.

“And I should warn you: as a demigod, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable."

I nod.

"Now recap the pen."

I touched the pen cap to the sword tip, and instantly Riptide shrank to a ballpoint pen again. I tucked it in my pocket. “You can’t lose the pen, by the way," he said. "It is enchanted. It will always reappear in your pocket. Try it."

I threw the pen as far as I could down the hill and watched it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron told me. "Now check your pocket."

Sure enough, like the book said, the pen was there.

"That’s cool," I admitted. "But what if a mortal like Rachel sees me pulling out a sword?"

Chiron smiled. "There are few mortals who can see through the mist, and Rachel’s ability to see clearly through the mist may be greater than a demigod’s. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which most humans will go to fit things into their version of reality."

I put Riptide back in my pocket.

For the first time, the quest felt really real. I was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill. I was heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone. (Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if I used one, it would be worse than sending up a flare. But it should be ok for Rachel since she’s mortal.)

I decided to bring up something important; maybe I shed some light on Kronos.

"Chiron..." I said. "When you say the gods are immortal...there was a time before them, right?"

"Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age."

"So what was it like...before the gods?"

Chiron pursed his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born."

"But if I failed, would the gods still be alive?"

Chiron gave me a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, Izzy. The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny."

"Our destiny...assuming we know what that is."

"Relax," Chiron told me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."

"Are you certain it was Hades who stole the bolt?” I asked Chiron, who gave me a look as though he was asking what I was implying, “If Hades really did steal the bolt, then why claim me? It doesn’t make sense. Is Hades really the one who would benefit the most from division among the gods?”

“Is there anyone you could think of?” He asks me.

“The Titans.”

His eyes go wide. “The Titans are imprisoned, Izzy.”

“Deep below us, right? In my dreams I see a chasm; out of it comes this evil voice.”

“It could be Hades.” He says.

“It could be, but it could also be someone else. We have to consider all the options.” I say, then walk to the bottom of the hill. Baltimore still on my shoulder.

When I got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Poseidon, Chiron was now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur.

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Rachel sitting next to me as if we were normal carpoolers. After a week at Camp Half-Blood, the real world seemed like a fantasy. I found myself staring at every Chick-fil-A, every kid in the back of his parents' car, every billboard, and every shopping mall.

"So far so good," I said, trying to break the silence. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

Rachel and I high-fived. But I couldn’t help but feel someone was watching me again, like when my dad died.

Annabeth gave us, me, an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, zombie brain."

"Remind me again, wise girl—why do you hate me so much? We built a cabin together!” I asked her.

Annabeth seemed to flinch at that. “I don't hate you."

I gave her a raised eyebrow that said otherwise.

She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look...we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents don’t get along."

"Why?"

She sighed. "Hades is cruel and terrifying; his own family doesn’t even like him. He’s never at Olympus save for the winter solstice, when he stole the bolt."

I wanted to tell her she was wrong; I wanted to tell her the truth, but I knew she wouldn’t believe me. "So, you’re saying we can’t get along because your mom doesn’t like my dad? What is this, a bad sitcom?”

"Oh, forget it." She said, looking away, I got a laugh out of Rachel, though, granted she was trying to contain it.

"Now, the only question is what kind of sitcom, one from the 80s or 90s."

"I said, forget it!"

This time both I and Rachel laughed at her reaction.

Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan, it was sunset and starting to rain.

Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from my apartment. Part of me wanted to let my mom know I was ok. According to Rachel, her parents were too busy to even know that a storm had hit the cabin and probably thought we were still having fun in her summer villa. My mom was another story. Rachel had bought us some time with that staticky voicemail, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever.

I pulled out a letter I wrote to my mom out of my jacket. Explaining that the phone lines are still down, but I’m safe, and I’ll see her soon. I told Baltimore to fly home, drop it off in the mail pile on the table; he knows how to get home, and my mom always leaves the windows open for fresh air. I watch as Baltimore flies away with the letter.

Rachel shouldered her backpack. She gazed down the street in the direction I was looking. "You want to see her, Izzy?"

I stared at her. "Were you reading my mind or something?"

"No more than usual." She shrugged with a smile. ” Just the standard best friend telepathy."

I smiled, wondering how much else she could read.

"You want to tell her what’s going on."

"Not yet," I said. "I’m not even sure how much she knows.”

I decided that the next chance I got, I would tell them about the dreams I had about the lightning bolt and strange-looking helmet I saw.

Honestly, I didn't care about retrieving Zeus's lightning bolt, saving the world, or even Hades. The more I thought about it, I resented Hades for my existence; maybe if it wasn’t for him, my dad could have been my dad. He wasn’t even there; my mom’s last relationship was a year before she met my dad. My existence doesn’t even make sense, and Hades wasn’t the type for hookups according to the stories.

The rain kept coming down.

We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play a game where we see who could catch the most trail mix with their mouths.

Annabeth was unbelievable. She could catch any trail mix thrown by herself or me and Rachel. She was definitely the champ until the end, when Baltimore returned from delivering my letter and swooped down, eating all the pieces Annabeth had thrown into the air.

He then let out a haughty sound. Rachel and I were cracking up; eventually Annabeth joined in too.

Finally, the bus came. We got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We sat with our supplies still on us because I am not risking us losing our supplies in a freak bus explosion. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh.

As the last passengers got on, Annabeth clamped her hand onto my knee. "Izzy."

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress and lace gloves, had her hair in an elegant gray bun, and carried a big paisley purse. Her black eyes glittered. I knew who that was; Percy knew her as Mrs. Dodds; I knew her as Alecto the Fury thanks to the books.

Rachel looked up and gasped. She probably would’ve screamed if I didn’t cover her mouth.

“Rachel, what do you see?” I asked her in a whisper.

“That thing is definitely not human.” She said, “She’s got talons, bat wings, fangs, and claws. How are you guys not freaking out!” She whisper-yelled back.

Annabeth’s nervousness seemed to increase. “It’s a Fury…” She says as she begins to think hard.

The strange thing was, I didn't feel scared or nervous like Rachel or Annabeth. Rather, the Fury felt familiar; that was when I realized that the presence I felt watching me ever since my dad died was her—she had been watching me.

"It's okay," Annabeth said, obviously thinking even harder. "It’s just a Fury. One of the worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

Rachel was ready to try, but I stopped them.

“Hold on.” I told them,

“What are you doing!? We need to get out of here!” Annabeth said, looking at me like I was stupid.

“I don’t think she’s here to harm us.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked me.

I turned to Rachel. “You know how I’ve said I felt like someone was watching me ever since my dad died?” She nodded. “I think it was her; she was the one watching me.”

Rachel and Annabeth’s eyes went wide.

“Are you sure!? That’s not good!” Annabeth said, “If a Fury has been following you all this time, that can’t be a good sign! She could be after you! We should get out of here.”

But we were already on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

“That’s just it; she could’ve done something to me ages ago. I would’ve been a lot easier to deal with then, but she hasn’t. I need you guys to trust me.” I plead.

Rachel takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself from the sight of the Fury, and Annabeth looks a bit skeptical.

“Annabeth, can I borrow your hat?” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Your hat can turn me invisible, right? I need to confirm something, please.”

She looked at me like she was about to fight me, then reluctantly gave me the cap.

Just as we hit the Lincoln Tunnel, I put the Yankees cap on, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain. When I looked down, my body wasn't there anymore. I started creeping up the aisle. I managed to get up ten rows, then I sat in the empty seat next to Alecto.

Apparently she didn't see me. And sat peacefully, casually throwing glances back towards Rachel and Annabeth. I saw her eyes slightly widen, maybe because she saw I wasn’t there. I decided to speak:

“Why are you following me?” I ask as I watch her head turn quickly towards the area where my voice came from; she doesn’t know where my eyes are, but she knows I’m right beside her.

“You are brave to speak to me. Half-blood, I could kill you quite easily.” She said to me,

“You’ve had since the earthquake to kill me.” I said,

“You were aware?” She asked.

“I could feel it; we’ve just never gotten this close before. Are you following me because of the helm?” I ask her; I see her eyes widen slightly. But she gives me no response.

“I’ve been having dreams; I didn’t steal it or the bolt.”

“My master is aware.” She tells me I know who she’s referring to: Hades.

“Then why follow me?“

“You know why—the dreams. I am searching—“

Alecto is about to say more when suddenly her head jolts up and she’s looking around and out the window. She turns back to me and manages to blindly grab my arm.

"You need to leave.” She says with urgency.

“What?”

“Your father has many of us looking for his helm, but there are still others who would gladly rip you to shreds. Another is coming now! Go!”

I slip out of her grip and run back to Annabeth and Rachel and take off the cap, slightly startling Baltimore.

“Izzy, what happened?!” Rachel asked,

“We need to get out of here, now!” I turned back and saw that Alecto was gone. Suddenly the bus shook as though something had hit it. Then the bus doors flew in, and suddenly a…chimera jumped in the bus?! Are you kidding me!?

The bus driver and other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right.

Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Rachel had her blue hairbrush and prepared to throw it. I had celestial bronze melted onto it (thanks Charles!) so she could actually cause some damage with that thing since she loves to throw it so much. Also, she has a gun in her bag.

Trusty as her blue hairbrush is, I wasn’t going to have my best friend’s only weapon be a piece of plastic. The gun is normal enough, but the bullets are made of celestial bronze. The downside is the bullets are only good for one use, so she has to use them sparingly.

The Chimera began stalking its way to the back, walking past the screaming passengers. Getting closer, I could tell it was about to attack. Annabeth had her knife ready, but Rachel beat her to it.

She chucked her wide-tooth, now celestial bronze-covered but blue-painted, hairbrush at the Chimera’s face, disorienting it. I saw an opportunity and ran. I donned Annabeth’s cap again and ran to the bus driver past the monster while Baltimore began clawing at the Chimera’s eyes, avoiding its strikes.

What I did next was so impulsive and dangerous I definitely would’ve been clinically diagnosed with ADHD.

The bus driver was distracted, trying to see what was going on in his rearview mirror. I glanced in the mirror and saw Baltimore distracting the beast as Annabeth and Rachel did their best to avoid its tail.

Still invisible, I grabbed the wheel from him and jerked it to the left. Everybody howled as they were thrown to the right, and I heard what I hoped was the sound of the Chimera smashing against the windows.

"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!"

We wrestled for the wheel. The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal and throwing sparks a mile behind us.

We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, everyone tossed around the bus, and cars plowed aside like bowling pins.

Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river.

I had another great idea: I hit the emergency brake.

The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The busted door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. I stepped into the driver's seat and let them pass.

The Chimera regained its balance. It lashed at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Rachel had her gun ready.

I looked back and took off the invisible cap. "Hey!”

The Chimera turned, baring its fangs at me, and the exit suddenly seemed like an excellent idea.

The monster growled.

Annabeth and Rachel moved up behind the Chimera cautiously, looking for an opening.

I brought my thumb to my middle finger and slightly moved the fidget ring. It elongated into a black sword as dark as a nightmare.

The Chimera hesitated; it seemed to sense what my blade was made of.

I know Chiron wanted me to use Riptide, but I did not want to deal with this guy again.

“Izzy, look out!" Annabeth cried.

The Chimera struck its tail at me, and I barely managed to dodge, and I slashed its tail with my blade, sending it toppling backward into a seat in pain. Rachel took a shot and managed to hit its leg, and Annabeth jumped on its back and began to stab it. I got closer and rammed my blade through its neck.

As soon as the blade went through its neck, the monster roared and exploded, but something else happened, like what was left of it went into my sword. Like it was absorbed.

Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck.

"Get out!" Annabeth yelled at me. "Now!"

I didn't need any encouragement.

We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!”

I hid my face and silently chanted, Please don't see us, please don't see us, please don't see us, on repeat.

Then suddenly,

BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof.

"Run!" Annabeth said. "We have to get out of here!"

We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.

Chapter Text

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not cut out for this. (Being a demigod, that is)

So there we were, Annabeth, Rachel, and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the late sunset sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.

Rachel was shivering. “That was crazy..."

I was pretty much in shock myself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears.

But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying, "Come on! The farther away we get, the better."

So much is similar yet so different from the books. Yes, a Fury boarded the bus, but it didn’t try to attack me; it warned me, though I didn’t get any useful answers from her. One thing that stayed the same was that we were all trucking through the woods, except Baltimore, who was getting a free ride on my shoulder, and Annabeth was mad at me for fighting the chimera.

“You shouldn’t have done that." She told me.

"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?"

"You didn't need to protect me, Izzy. I would've been fine."

"Uh, no, you wouldn’t. I was there too; that thing was fast and would have torn us to shreds if Izzy didn’t distract it." Rachel said.

"Shut up, mortal girl," said Annabeth as she continued walking ahead of us.

Rachel was about to ask Baltimore to poop on her, but I told him not to, although he almost did it.

We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to me.

"Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate you coming back for us, okay? That was really brave."

I smile at her. "We're a team, right?"

She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died...aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world."

The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us only in the light of the sun mostly covered by trees. I could barely see Rachel or Annabeth, but my eyes adjusted, and I eventually could see them better.

"You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" Rachel asked her.

"No...only short field trips. My dad—"

"The history professor." I chimed in.

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her.

Rachel might, but both of us looked at each other and let her talk.

“At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not."

It’s different hearing her say these things instead of just reading them.

"You're pretty good with that knife," I said.

"You think so?"

"Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Chimera is okay by me."

“Ditto.” Rachel added.

I didn’t see her face, but I think she smiled.

"You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you...something..."

Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by something Rachel saw.

“Hey guys! I think I see lights and smell hamburgers!” She said as she pointed over the distance. I see light trickling through the trees.

We went to the source of the neon light and the good smell.

It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was painful to read because of the lights. But I read it out: Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium.

"What does that say?" Annabeth asked.

I'd forgotten she was dyslexic.

Rachel translated, "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. Statues were everywhere.

Annabeth seemed to realize what this place is.

“This isn’t good.” she said

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

“Someone called who’s definitely not human has a garden full of statues. Any guess as to what “Em” is short for? Let’s get out of here, please, while we still can.”

But we heard footsteps approaching, and I felt a shiver on my neck.

“Oh shoot!” Annabeth whispered, and she told us to look away.

We did. Even in Baltimore, I could feel him covering his head and mine with his wings.

“Hello there, daughter of Hades.” A feminine voice said from the direction of the footsteps when they stopped.

“How did you...?” I asked the voice hesitantly.

“A forbidden child has been claimed. How long did you think that secret would keep? It’s a pleasure to meet you, daughter of Hades. I’m Medusa.”

Something felt different. I’ve felt evil monsters like the Chimera and the Minotaur; I’m not getting that from her. This is different; she is different. I turn towards the voice and slowly gaze up.

“Izzy, don’t. She’s a monster.” Annabeth said.

“We all choose who we make our monsters. Some offer death, but right now, I’m offering you lunch. The choice is yours to accept.” Medusa says with a calm tone and walks into her shop, or lair. I watch her back as she walks; she’s wearing a white gown and a white veil, opposite to what she wore in the books; she’s even revealed herself. I remember her trying to trick Percy. Why isn't she trying to do that to us?

“I think we can trust her.” I say.

“What?!” Annabeth and Rachel say in unison, Even Baltimore looks at me like I’m crazy.

“ I can’t explain it; I just...her story, her original story, the point was always that she isn’t what people think. I’m going in.” I begin walking towards the door; Rachel follows suit.

“What are you...” I can hear Annabeth say behind us.

I open the door and cautiously step in as I hear the bell on the door chime.

Medusa's lair is cozy, and sweets are piled on plates strewn across the table.

“You must be hungry. I left snacks on the table while I get something proper going.” Medusa says from the kitchen in a pleasant tone.

“You think it’s safe to eat?” Rachel asks.

I see Baltimore fly onto the table and take a bite out of a small snack before returning to my shoulder.

“I think so, at least according to Baltimore, plus I’m really hungry.”

We hear the bell chime and turn around. Annabeth finally joined us.

“Thanks for joining us.” I said to her.

“This isn’t the same for me as it is for you.” She says.

“Why?” Rachel asks, and just then we hear Medusa return. We all avoid her gaze. I try to stay facing her as much as I can; I don’t want to seem rude.

“You're concerned I would hold a grudge against you simply because you are a daughter of Athena?” Medusa says gently as she pours some drinks, “You shouldn’t be. We're not our parents, after all. And you and I might have more in common than you think. Please, sit and eat.”

Rachel and I sit, but Annabeth remains standing with her arms crossed.

“So you’re not a monster; what are you then?” I ask as I put some food on my plate, curious as to what the Medusa in this world is like.

“A survivor.”

I pause; her words strike at something inside me. I cautiously look at her; her veil covers her eyes and most of the top half of her face. She’s not the monster depicted in Percy’s stories; she’s the Medusa from the myths, a victim. And from what I can see of her face, she kind of looks like my mother. She even has the same honey beige skin as her."

“You must be a little more than that. There are statues of monsters outside that all looked terrified.” Rachel says as she puts some sweets on her plate.

“Because they found out who I am. I don’t like bullies. When one shows up on my doorstep, they end up spending a lot more time there than they planned for.” Medusa says as she sits down. “The gift the gods gave me is that I cannot be bullied anymore.” She says with a smile, but I’m sure there was a time when she could never say that.

“What my mother did to you wasn’t a gift; it was a curse.” I quickly turned over to Annabeth, giving her a look that said, Cut it out! But she didn’t see it. Medusa’s expression remained neutral.

“You are loyal to your mother.” She asks Annabeth.

“Yes.” She responds.

“You stand by her?”

“Always.”

“You love her?” She asked genuinely and softly.

“Of course, I do.” Annabeth responded quickly.

“And so did I. So did I.” Medusa says, as she nods her head slightly, “Do you know the story of how I came to be this way?”

“I do.” Rachel said as she took a sip of her drink.

“Do you?” Medusa asked curiously.

“Do I?” Rachel asked, slightly confused.

“Athena was everything to me. I gave her my everything. I would call to her...She never answered.” She said with a quiver in her voice, “Not even an omen to suggest she appreciated my love. I wasn’t like you, sweetheart.” She said towards Annabeth, “I was you. I would have stayed that way for a lifetime... in silence. But then one day, another god came, and he broke that silence. Poseidon. The sea god told me that he loved me. I felt as though he saw me in a way I had never felt seen before. But then Athena declared that I had embarrassed her and I needed to be punished. Not him. Me.” Her smile fades away. “She decided that I would never be seen again by anyone who would live to tell the tale.” She finishes, her voice cracking at the end.

I know what this is….stories like these are never easy to tell…

“That isn’t what happened. My mother is just, always.” Annabeth says, not believing Medusa’s words.

“The gods want you to believe that they are infallible. But they only want what all bullies want. They want us to blame ourselves for their own shortcomings.” She tells us.

In some ways…she's right. Countless victims are treated as though they are the ones at fault of horrible things done to them, and it's sickening.

“That is not what happened.” Annabeth said, sounding almost angry. Me and Rachel looked at each other with nervous eyes, knowing that Annabeth was not going to say something good next. “And you are a li-OW!”

Rachel kicked her in the leg and then proceeded to give her a look that said, Shut up. Up.

“So, what’s on the stove? I think I smell something burning.” I say with a smile, trying to change the subject from Annabeth's comment.

Medusa gets up and heads to the kitchen. “Would you give me a hand in the kitchen? I think lunch is ready.”

I get up and join her; hopefully she's not too upset and I can smooth things over.

I walk over to the kitchen and see Medusa’s back.

“…I’m sorry about Annabeth. She's not usually like that. I mean, a little bit, she is, but that was a lot. You didn’t deserve that.”

“She’s going to betray you.” She says as she flips something on the stove, “Sooner or later, people like her, they always do.”

“I don’t think so—“

“Then you will be an easy mark for her when the time comes.” She cuts me off.

“I don’t think so because of what you said; we’re not our parents. We can grow; it just might take some time.”

Medusa looks at me over her shoulder for a moment before going back to the stove.

“Why are you kind to us?” I ask her.

She takes a moment before answering, “Your mother and I, we're like sisters in a way. Targeted by the same kind of monster. So I find myself feeling protective of you.”

Same kind of monster—that just makes me more uneasy and fearful for my mother.

“What if…what if my mother doesn’t know she was targeted by a monster?” I ask, and Medusa turns around.

“What if…she doesn’t know she was hurt? Should I tell her? If I do, will she still look at me the same? Like she loves me.” I ask, my voice shaking slightly. I swallow.

Medusa seems to contemplate how to answer. “It’s hard to tell how someone who doesn’t know would react; sometimes it’s better to know, sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

I decided to ask something stupid, “Can I hug you?”

“What?” She says softly, suddenly, and slightly confused.

“Sorry, it’s just that ever since we left camp, some not-so-great things happened, and I could really use a hug.” I lied; in truth, I don’t care much for hugs from most people. But I can make exceptions, usually for family and friends. And while Medusa is neither, I don’t think she’s been hugged in a while, also…there's the fact that she reminds me of my mom in more than just her looks.

“You would hug a monster?” She asks.

“Not everyone who looks like a monster is a monster. You said it yourself, you’re not a monster, you’re a survivor.” I repeat her words to her.

Medusa is silent, but I see her nod. Baltimore flies off my shoulder, and slowly and steadily I walk towards her. When I’m close enough, I slowly wrap my arms around her, my head resting on the area between her chest and shoulder. I could feel her arms slowly lift up and return my hug. She wasn’t my mom, I knew that, but she was still someone who probably needed a hug.

We stopped hugging when we heard a timer go off, and she went back to the stove. Baltimore flew back on my shoulder, and Medusa tells me I should go back to my friends; I do. I return to find Annabeth trying to get Rachel to leave, and when she sees me, she tries to do so with me. I quietly, and with my hands, tell her wait. The three of us are having a full-on whisper argument with our hands when suddenly we hear Medusa approach and stop. We see her place one of those fancy reusable grocery bags on the table.

“Some food for your journey,” she says. “I know you all must be busy. I’m sorry for taking up your time, but you should still have proper meals.” She says with a smile. I grab the grocery bag, and inside are a bunch of food containers. We make our way to the exit; I’m the last one out, but before I leave, I turn around.

“Thank you for your kindness.” I say to Medusa,

“And you for yours.” She responds quietly.

We make our way out and through the woods. I look back once in a while and can’t help but wonder why Medusa was different and why she let us leave so easily when, in the books, she tried to turn Percy into a statue.

As we were walking through the woods, far enough away from Medusa’s lair, Annabeth spoke up, “What were you thinking? She’s a monster; she could’ve gotten us killed.”

I ignored her and walked further ahead.

“Are you ignoring me?” She asked in an angry tone. Which only pissed me off more.

“Yes, Annabeth, I am ignoring you because I am mad at you.” I say, Looking forward.

“You’re mad at me?!” She said as though I was crazy, “I’m not the one who wanted to eat with a lying monster!”

I stop walking and face her.

Baltimore flies off my shoulder and lands on Rachel’s.

“That right there is why I’m mad at you. You treated her the same way 90% of the world treats a victim when they try to tell their side of the story.” My voice is getting louder, angrier: “So forgive me, Annabeth, for having sympathy for someone who was probably a victim of rape and is most likely in the same boat as my mother!” I yelled.

For a moment I felt the ground shake and the trees sway. Birds flew out of their nests. Annabeth took a step back. I’m not sure what expression I’m making, but I doubt it’s pleasant.

Annabeth looks startled; I can see her trying to hide it. I look over at Rachel; she’s giving me a sympathetic look, but she also looks startled too. Even Baltimore’s not moving.

I turn away and start walking. “Let’s just keep moving.”

Chapter Text

That night we camped out in the woods, a hundred yards from the main road, in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

We decided to sleep in shifts.

I volunteered to take the first watch.

Annabeth curled up on the blankets and was snoring as soon as her head hit the ground.

Rachel sat on the blankets and stared at the sky.

"Go ahead and sleep," I told her. "I'll wake you if there's trouble."

She nodded but still didn't close his eyes. "It makes me sad, Izzy."

"What does?"

"He was right." She said as she pointed at all the garbage on the ground. "And the sky is so polluted. You can't even see the stars.”

"Does this have to do with Grover?”

She looked at me and nodded. "My dad likes to tear apart nature to build malls. Grover’s a satyr, a nature lover; no wonder he doesn’t want to date me. And because of me, he may never find Pan."

"A frying pan?"

"The god Pan! What do you think he wants a searcher's license for?" She blurts out, “Sorry.”

A strange breeze rustled through the clearing, temporarily overpowering the stink of trash and muck. It brought the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rainwater, things that might have once been in these woods.

Suddenly I was nostalgic for something I'd never known.

"Has Grover told you about the search?" I ask.

She nods.

“Tell me about it.”

"Grover told me that the god of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago; a sailor off the coast of Ephesos heard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, 'Tell them that the great god Pan has died!' When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was their master. He protected them and the wild places of the earth. They refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden and wake him from his sleep."

"And you want this quest to succeed for him so that he can get his license?” I ask.

"Yes," she said. "Not that I don’t want this to succeed for you and saving the world—"

"It’s okay, I get it."

Rachel shook her head. "This means so much to him. He so desperately wants to be the first to return from the search alive."

"Hang on—the first?"

Rachel pulled on some of her hair. "No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?"

"No."

"And Grover still wants to go," I said, amazed. "You really think he'll be the one to find Pan?"

"I do. I hope so,” Rachel says, looking down. “Hope is all searchers have. It's the only thing that keeps them from despair when they look at what humans have done to the world. And my dad’s one of them." Baltimore nuzzled against her, affectionately telling her in his own language, “It’s not your fault.”

"About earlier," she said. "When we left Medusa's and you and Annabeth—"

"Can we not?" I interrupt as I look away.

"I get why you were angry. But let’s not be too hard on Annabeth. After what Grover told me…” Her voice faltered.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Suddenly, Rachel seemed worried she said something she shouldn’t have.

"Does it have to do with Thalia?" I ask.

“How did you—“

"His first keeper job was seven years ago. Annabeth has been at camp seven years."

"I can't talk about it," Rachel said. “Grover said he wasn’t even supposed to tell me. By the way, while we were walking, Annabeth said something about this quest being strange.

"Well, duh. I'm getting blamed for stealing a thunderbolt that I obviously didn’t steal."

"That's not what I mean," Rachel said. "That old lady on the bus, you said you felt her following you ever since your dad’s funeral...why did she only watch? Then that other monster showed up out of nowhere.”

“I don’t know why she was watching me, but she was searching for something, then she warned me.”

“She warned you?”

“About the Chimera.”

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know. But then there’s"… If I was going to bring up how I know the helm is stolen too, I should wait for Annabeth.

Rachel looked at the night sky. "How about I take the first watch, huh? You get some sleep; a lot’s happened."

I wanted to protest, but I was really tired. I laid down, and Baltimore settled by my head.

In my dreams, I stood in a dark cavern before a gaping pit. Gray mist creatures churned all around me, whispering rags of smoke that I somehow knew were the spirits of the dead.

They tugged at my clothes, trying to pull me back, trying to keep me away. I tried to leave, but the chasm widened, and it was soon in front of me.

Looking down made me dizzy.

The pit yawned so wide and was so completely black, I knew it must be bottomless. Yet I knew that something was trying to rise from the abyss, something huge and evil.

The little hero, an amused voice echoed far down in the darkness. Too weak, too young, but perhaps you will do.

The voice felt ancient—cold and heavy. It wrapped around me like sheets of lead.

Help me rise, girl. The voice became hungrier. Bring me the bolt. Strike a blow against the treacherous gods!

The spirits of the dead whispered around me, No! Wake up!

The thing in the pit tightened its unseen grip around me.

I tried to escape. I realized it wasn't interested in pulling me in. It was using me to pull itself out.

Good, it murmured. Good.

Wake up! The dead whispered. Wake up!

Someone was shaking me.

My eyes opened, and it was daylight.

"Well," Annabeth said, "the zombie lives."

I was trembling from the dream. I could still feel the grip of the chasm monster around my chest. "How long was I asleep?"

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." Annabeth threw a granola bar at my face. She’s definitely still not happy with me either.

My eyes had trouble focusing.

Rachel was sitting cross-legged on a blanket with something fuzzy on her lap, a dirty, unnaturally pink stuffed animal.

No. It wasn't a stuffed animal. It was a pink poodle.

“Uh, what’s that?” I asked Rachel.

"Izzy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Izzy. My new pet!”

I stared at Annabeth, figuring she'd crack up at this practical joke they were playing on me, but she looked deadly serious.

The dog started barking at me, but I had no idea what it was saying.

"Izzy," Annabeth said. "Say hello to the poodle. I said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."

The poodle growled.

I said hello to the poodle.

Rachel told me how she found the poodle in the woods.

“I think it has a collar. Shouldn’t we give it back to its owners?” I asked.

At that, the poodle started barking like crazy; it really didn’t want to go back.

“So what? You’re keeping the poodle now?”

“Mhm! If you get to keep random injured birds and hellhounds that try to kill you, I get to keep a pink poodle.” She says as she nuzzles the poodle's head.

“We should get going to Los Angeles,” Annabeth said as she packed up our supplies.

"Not another bus," I said warily.

"No," Annabeth agreed. She pointed downhill, toward train tracks I hadn't been able to see last night in the dark. "There's an Amtrak station half a mile that way.“

We made our way toward the train station. With Baltimore on my shoulder and Gladiola in Rachel’s arms. We had acquired another animal companion on this journey. 

Chapter Text

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, and past amber waves of grain. We got a bedroom suite thanks to Rachel.

Thankfully, we weren't attacked, but I didn't relax. We don’t have the best history of making it off vehicles safely.

I tried to keep a low profile and stayed in our room mostly because I didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing me from the bus explosion.

It wasn’t bad though, eventually. Things were awkward between me and Annabeth for a bit, but when it was time to eat, things got a bit better.

Me, Rachel, Baltimore, and even Gladiola enjoyed the food Medusa gave us: burgers, pizza, the good stuff. Annabeth refused to eat at first, but eventually she gave in and took only the smallest amounts, even though we could all tell she wanted more.

Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted for lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I waved back.

Another time, toward evening, I saw something huge moving through the woods. I tried to get Rachel and Annabeth to see it, but it was gone before they could look.

Then, after dinner, when we were all sitting on one of the beds, Annabeth spoke.

"So," Annabeth asked me, "who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

I was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time I'd dreamed about the evil voice from the pit. But I remembered how I planned to tell her and Rachel the next chance I got; now’s the time.

Annabeth and Rachel were quiet for a long time.

"That’s strange," Rachel says.

"I guess ... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"

“Because I don’t think he does, he’s not the thief.” I remember what Alecto said on the bus; she was searching for something, the helm: “I think it was stolen from him as well. Maybe he’s not like everyone thinks.”

Annabeth looked at me like I was crazy, then she looked a little mad. “You’re wrong, Izzy. He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I’m sure he sent the Chimera as well. I don't care if one of his Kindly Ones wasn't as aggressive this time—"

"This time?" I asked.

Annabeth’s hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens.

"Let's just say I've got no love for the lord of the dead.” She says, looking at me harshly.

Or me apparently. I know that's not what she said, but I can tell by the look in her eyes how much dislike (and that's putting it mildly) she holds for Hades, and by omission…me too.

"Hey!" Rachel said, “What if someone was saying all those things about—“ she hesitates, and I can tell she’s trying to find a word that isn’t “dad,” “the male…who is responsible for your existence.”

Annabeth doesn’t comment on Rachel’s strange choice of words; instead, she says, "That's easy, I wouldn’t care."

"Really?" I asked only because I know Annabeth has complicated feelings when it comes to her family.

Annabeth's grey eyes fixed on me. She wore the same expression she'd worn in the woods at camp the moment she drew her sword against Princeton.

"My dad's resented me since the day I was born," she said. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent."

"But how...I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital...." Rachel said.

"I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr, the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he'd take some photos or something. But after he met her, he always treated my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five, he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife and had two 'regular' mortal kids; he didn’t need me."

I looked at Annabeth gently. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn't know how. I had an idea, but I wasn’t sure she’d like it. I gently put my fingers over hers. I expected her to pull away, but surprisingly she didn’t; she let my hand stay where it was.

"I know what it’s like," Rachel told her. "My parents don’t like me either. They prefer their work to me too; they don't even know I'm here, or even tried to call me once since. I bet I haven’t even crossed their minds once.” Rachel said sadly as she snuggled Gladiola.

Annabeth looked at Rachel; she didn’t give one of her comments but just looked at Rachel, with a bit more understanding in her gaze.

Annabeth then kept worrying at her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads. It occurred to me that the ring must be her father's. I knew she didn’t really hate her father, if anything. I always thought she hated how he didn’t choose her.

"He doesn't care about me," she said. "His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened—you know, something with monsters—they would both look at me resentfully, like, 'How dare you put our family at risk?' Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away."

"How old were you?" Rachel asked.

"Same age as when I started camp. Seven."

"But...you couldn't have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself." Rachel said.

"Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guiding me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway."

I could tell Rachel wanted to ask what happened, but Annabeth seemed lost in sad memories. So we just stayed there and listened to the sounds of the train and gazed out the train windows as the dark fields of Ohio raced by.

Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis. Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city.

"I want to do that," she sighed.

"What?" I asked.

"Build something like that. Did you ever see the Parthenon, Izzy?"

"Only in pictures."

"Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods ever. Something that'll last a thousand years."

Rachel and I laughed.

Annabeth’s cheeks flushed. "What’s so funny? Athena expects her children to create things, not just watch people die…Sorry," Annabeth said. "That was mean."

"No, it’s just that, haven’t you already done that?" I asked with my head tilted. "I mean, you helped build my cabin, remember?"

Annabeth blinked, then turned a bit red. "I guess ..." she said, looking away.

“The cabin turned out great! We definitely couldn’t have gotten it done that great without you." Rachel says.

“Agreed, if you ask me, you’re already an amazing architect, and I bet you’ll make a lot of other amazing things as well.“

I could see a smile slightly play at Annabeth’s mouth before she turned away, watching as the Arch disappeared behind a hotel. Her ears are slightly red.

“Maybe we could work together again?” I ask.

"I suppose," she said at last.

We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour layover before departing again.

Rachel stretched, then her stomach growled.

"Come on, Hairbrush Ninja," Annabeth said to Rachel. I guess Annabeth has a nickname for Rachel that isn’t “Mortal Girl.” “We’re going sightseeing."

"Sightseeing?" I asked.

"The Gateway Arch," she said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"

Rachel and I exchanged looks.

Rachel shrugged. "As long as we get some food and no monsters interrupt us."

The arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn't all that thrilling, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built. I listened because I knew what it was like to be fascinated with something and not have anyone listen. Rachel and I were okay because we munched on snacks as we listened to Annabeth, and Rachel was extra interested when Annabeth talked about the artistic side of it.

I kept looking around; something felt wrong to me. When we got in the elevator. I had a feeling we shouldn't be here. It was then I remembered something.

"Guys," I said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?"

Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. "Yeah?"

"Well, the guy downstairs. Doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?"

"You mean the Helm of Darkness," Annabeth said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting."

"So he and it were definitely there?" I asked.

She nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus—the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true.... Then it allows him to become darkness; he can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?"

"But then...whoever uses it could be a perfect thief. But gods can’t steal each other’s symbols. And you saw the helm there, right? Did you see it the whole time?" I asked.

Annabeth thought, then slowly shook her head, “No, I didn’t have eyes on it the whole time.”

“In my dreams, I see the bolt and the helm. What if the lightning thief stole the helm first to steal the master bolt?”

Annabeth looked at me with wide eyes, then she began thinking; I could see the gears move in her head.

"It is possible, but who?"

“Who else was at the winter solstice who could’ve had the skills to steal the helm?” I asked, cutting her off.

But before Annabeth could answer, the elevator door opened, and Annabeth gasped in excitement. I decided to let her enjoy the moment, and we could talk later. At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other.

The view was okay, but Annabeth kept talking about structural supports and how she would've made the windows bigger and designed a see-through floor. She probably could've stayed up there for hours, but luckily for me, the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.

I steered Rachel and Annabeth toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and I was about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for me.

The park ranger said, "Next car, miss."

"We'll get out," Annabeth said. "We'll wait with you."

But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I said, "Nah, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom. I've got Baltimore with me."

Rachel and Annabeth both looked nervous, but they let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp.

Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, Baltimore, and the park ranger.

Then the elevator on the other side opened, revealing a fat lady with her Chihuahua.

Wait…fat lady and a chihuahua on the arch?

The Chihuahua jumped down out of the fat lady’s arms and started yapping at me. Baltimore got on guard.

"Now, now, sonny," the lady said. "Does this look like a good time?“

The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips.

"Well, son," the fat lady sighed. "If you insist."

The fat lady rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were sideways slits, like a reptile's. The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar.

I turned my ring into a shield, and I uncapped Riptide. I remember how this went for Percy. I can’t count on being so lucky.

The park ranger ran toward the exit screaming.

The Chimera was now so tall its back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA—RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS—IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS—EXT. 954.

This Chimera was different from the one on the bus. It was somehow even more terrifying.

I had my guard up, but I was ten feet away from the Chimera's bloody maw, and I knew that as soon as I moved, the creature would lunge.

The snake lady made a hissing noise that might've been laughter. "Be honored, Izzy Mira, lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood, and twice at that. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!"

I stared at her. All I could think to say was, "Isn't that a kind of anteater?"

She howled, her reptilian face turning brown and green with rage. "I hate it when people say that! I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me. For that, Izzy Mira, my son shall destroy you!"

The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I managed to leap aside and dodge the bite; Baltimore flew off and around.

I ran to the other side of the deck and yelled, "Hey, Chihuahua!"

The Chimera turned faster than I would've thought possible.

It opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world's largest barbecue.

I dove through the explosion, covered by the shield. The carpet burst into flames; the heat was intense. Where I had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges.

Great, we just torched a national monument. Annabeth’s going to kill me.

As the Chimera turned, I slashed at it with Riptide.

It didn’t do much; I barely scratched its face. I almost forgot about the serpent's tail until it whipped around. I barely managed to jump above it and slam it with my shield. The monster let out a pained roar upon coming in contact with the Stygian iron shield.

Baltimore went after Echidna’s eyes; he actually managed to claw them. She let out an angry yell and tried to attack him but failed; Baltimore was practically flying circles around her. The Chimera's serpent tail jerked away from my shield and threw me off balance, and Riptide flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the Arch and down toward the Mississippi River.

I managed to get to my feet, but I knew I’d lose. I barely handled the last chimera, and that time I had more space and two other people to help. Now I’m outnumbered, sorry Baltimore.

I backed into the hole in the wall. And kept my shield close to me.

The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its lips.

The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. "They don't make heroes like they used to, eh, son?"

The monster growled again.

I was facing a massive, fire-breathing monster and its mother. And I had no idea what to do.

There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Far, far below, the river glittered.

If I died, would the monsters go away? Would they leave the humans alone?

"A daughter of Hades," Echidna hissed, "you shouldn’t be so high up; you practically served yourself to me on a stone pedestal." She laughed.

I saw stone crumble—wait, stone.

Hades controls the earth’s ground. Maybe I can use the rocks in the monument. Annabeth’s definitely going to kill me.

The Chimera's mouth glowed red, heating up for another blast.

"Better you die now," Echidna told me. "The gods are faithless. No one can save you."

She was right, Poseidon wouldn’t help, and I sure as heck wasn’t counting on Hades.

In a last-ditch effort, I tried to feel the earth in the monument.

I backed up and looked down at the water.

"Die, faithless one," Echidna rasped, and the Chimera sent a column of flame toward me. I blocked what I could with my shield, felt the tug in my gut, and the monument shook. The Chimera stopped breathing fire, and suddenly the area where we were standing crumbled.

We were all falling, and the Chimera used its tail for one last lash at my shield, sending me flying and spiraling.

I could barely see as I plummeted down, Baltimore’s call fading as I fell.

Chapter Text

I'd love to say I had a plan in my head like Annabeth would, but in reality, my only thought was, Aaaaggghhhhh!

The Chimera had swatted me towards the river; even if I fell on that, it would still kill me. I had another desperate idea. I tried reaching for the ground beneath the water to make some sort of stone slide come out towards me.

It was a stupid idea, but it was all I got. I was still spinning midair, so I was just grabbing randomly. I managed to somewhat stop spinning and saw several long, slanted spikes coming out of the water. I tried to make one of them get as close to me as possible.

And then: Flaaa-baaam!

I fell on the slanted ramp made of stone, and #&@%! it hurt!

I was rolling down very fast—and painfully—on the rock ramp I summoned.

I tried to turn my ring into something that could help me not fall like this, but I could barely see my own hands. Somehow I got the ring to turn into a knife, but it didn’t help; Stygian iron is too strong. The knife went through the rock like butter, so I was still falling, but at least I wasn’t rolling anymore.

Then suddenly I crashed into cold water; it hurt too. My sight was clouded by a whiteout of bubbles, and I could feel myself sinking; I always did sink better than I swam. I began to move rapidly, trying to get back up to the surface.

I grabbed onto part of the large rock I summoned and pulled myself up, gasping for air as I leaned against the rock, my lower half still in the water. Baltimore landed on the rock, looking down at me with concern.

“Ow-ow-ow… I can’t believe that worked.” I said to my raven, in pain and disbelief as I gasped for air.

I wanted to rest, but I heard a voice in my head tell me I shouldn’t stay where I was for too long. It was the same voice that told me to wake up when I first got to camp.

I slowly started swimming towards shallow water, but it hurt. I stopped when my feet were able to touch the bottom. When I saw some of the water start to recede, I turned and saw a giant wave coming.

“Seriously?” I asked, unsure if that happened because of me or if Poseidon just really didn’t like me.

The water started receding faster.

“Ok! Ok! I get it! Geez! I’m leaving!” I said, as I tried to move even more quickly.

Baltimore let out a very angry, annoyed sound towards the sea.

I came ashore next to a floating Chick-fil-A. The wave seemed to crash mostly on the rocks I summoned, and then suddenly the rocks vanished beneath the waves.

A block away, every emergency vehicle in St. Louis was surrounding the Arch. Police helicopters circled overhead. The crowd of onlookers reminded me of Times Square on New Year's Eve.

A little girl said, "Mama! That girl walked out of the river."

"That's nice, dear," her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances.

"But she’s bloody and has a knife!"

"That's nice, dear."

I quickly turn my knife back into a ring on my finger. Wait…did that girl say bloody?

A news lady was talking for the camera: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get to some of the survivors to question them about eyewitness reports of someone falling from the Arch."

I felt relieved. Maybe the park ranger made it out safely. I hoped Annabeth, Rachel, and Gladiola were ok. Oh crap…They’re going to kill me.

I tried to stretch to see and hear what was going on when suddenly I felt a shock of pain on my side. I put my hand to the pain, and when I pulled away, I saw blood. I looked down and saw the tear in my shirt and flesh. I must’ve cut myself while I was falling. I better hope Annabeth still has some nectar and ambrosia.

"... an adolescent girl," another reporter was saying. "Channel Five has learned that surveillance cameras show an adolescent girl going wild on the observation deck, somehow setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities ..."

I backed away, trying to keep my head down. I had to go a long way around the police perimeter.

Uniformed officers and news reporters were everywhere.

I'd almost lost hope of ever finding Annabeth and Rachel when Baltimore flew to the sky cawing before landing back on my shoulder. Then a voice yelled, "Izzy!"

I turned and got tackled by Rachel’s bear hug. She said, "We thought we were dead!"

Annabeth stood behind her, trying to look angry, but even she seemed relieved to see me. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?"

"I sort of fell."

"Izzy! Six hundred and thirty feet?"

“Ow!” I winced.

“You’re hurt!” Rachel said, concerned, the color seemed to leave her face when she saw the blood. Annabeth saw it too, then quickly shoved her canteen of nectar at me. I drank until I didn’t feel the pain anymore. I looked down and saw a new scar. I could definitely never wear a swimsuit in front of my mom ever again.

Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!"

The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a man on a stretcher. I recognized him immediately as the ranger who'd been on the observation deck.

He was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua—"

"Okay, sir," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. The medication is starting to kick in."

"I'm not crazy! There she is! That's the girl!"

I turned quickly and pulled Annabeth and Rachel after me. I wanted no one to see us, and somehow no one did. We disappeared into the crowd.

"What's going on?" Annabeth demanded.

"I may or may not have fought an anteater and another crazy cat." I told them; they both gave me confused looks.

I told them the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, how I wrecked the top of a national monument, my high-dive act, and very bumpy landing.

"Whoa," said Rachel, “we really can’t leave you alone for even 5 seconds, can we?”

I laugh at that. "Guess not."

We ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.

“You know you destroyed a national monument, right?” Annabeth said,

“It’s…not that bad.” I said, with a badly convincing smile.

Annabeth motioned both her hands to the top of the Arch; a small piece in the center that connected it was gone.

“I’m sure it’ll be fixed soon.” I say with a nervous smile. “But seriously, we should get out of here. I didn’t see where Echidna and her Chimera fell.”

Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. We got on board the train just before it pulled out. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind us.

Chapter Text

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. For some reason, the trains were getting shut down; apparently storms, earthquakes, and oceans destroyed the tracks. Just great.

We hadn't eaten in a bit, and we were all hungry.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your dreams."

"We can't use phones, right?" I say.

"Obviously." Annabeth stated.

We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though I wasn't completely sure what Annabeth was looking for. I decided that next time, I’d ask Rachel if she could give Chiron a cell phone; since she’s not a demigod, it should be ok.

The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.

Finally, we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were three adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good.

"What exactly are we doing?" Rachel asked as Annabeth took out the spray gun.

"It's seventy-five cents," she grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Rachel?"

"Don't look at me," she said. "I’ve only got a credit card."

I fished out a bit of change and passed Annabeth a quarter.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.

Annabeth fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing."

"Instant messaging?" Rachel asked again.

“Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."

"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" I ask.

Annabeth handed the nozzle to Rachel and had her point the nozzle in the air, and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."

Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.

Annabeth held her palm out to me. "Drachma, please."

I handed one over.

She raised the coin up. "O iris, accept our offering." She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.

"Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then I was looking through the mist at Strawberry Fields and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.

"Luke!" Annabeth called.

He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing three feet in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow.

"Izzy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth, too? Are you guys okay?"

"We're...uh...fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—"

"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Rachel all right?"

"I'm right here," Rachel called. She held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision.

"What kind of issues?" Annabeth asked.

Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.

"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled.

"I'll take care of it'." Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight.

"Rachel, come on!”

"What?" Rachel said. "But—"

"Give Izzy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered.

She groaned, then handed me the spray gun and followed Annabeth.

I readjusted the hose so I could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke.

"Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted to me over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, Izzy. Word leaked out about the Zeus—Poseidon standoff and how Hades is apparently getting dragged into it too. We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound.”

“Princeton.” I say, Luke continues.

“Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus."

In the next stall, I heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically.

"So what's your status?" Luke asked me. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you."

I didn’t tell him everything. I wasn't sure what was safe to tell, and I didn't realize how long I had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and I realized I only had one more minute before the water shut off.

"I wish I could be there," Luke told me. "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen...I’m sorry, but it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip, and we saw him."

"But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly."

"That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still...Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible."

We were both silent until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said.

"Oh, hey," he protested. "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never...I mean, she's like a little sister to me."

I wondered if Annabeth would like that description.

“I know,” I told Luke, “but someone could have stolen the helm first. That would’ve made stealing the bolt much easier.”

Luke’s eyes seem to widen a bit. “How do you know?”

In the stall next to us, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash.

"You'd better go see what that was," Luke said. "Listen, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good."

"Oh ... uh, yeah!" I tried not to sound like a bad liar, which I normally am. "Yeah, they've come in handy." Lie, I’m not putting on those cursed shoes.

"Really?" He grinned. "They fit and everything?"

The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate.

"Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver—“ Luke called, but the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. I was alone in a wet, empty car wash stall.

Annabeth and Rachel came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw my face.

Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened, Izzy? What did Luke say?"

"Things are…hectic back at camp, to say the least.” My stomach growled. "Come on, I’ll tell you more over some dinner."

A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas.

Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?"

I said, "We, um, want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger, and Rachel was so tired she was really slow as she searched for her credit card.

I was trying to make conversation while Rachel searched her bag when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb.

All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster was riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like...well, Caucasian human skin. That’s unsettling.

The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt, black jeans, and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd ever seen— handsome, I guess, but wicked—with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. I knew who this was. I wasn’t looking forward to what would happen next, but if I played my cards right, I could save a lot of time.

As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively, and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations.

The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window.

He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen.

The biker looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades, but bad feelings started boiling in my stomach. Baltimore and Gladiola were on edge too.

"So you're old Corpse Breath's kid, huh?"

I don’t know why, but I wanted to rip this guy’s head off.

“And?" I say back to him.

Annabeth's eyes flashed me a warning. "Izzy, this is—"

The biker raised his hand. "I don't mind a little attitude. As long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"

"You're Ares, god of war," I said. "Clarisse's dad."

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."

"She was asking for it."

"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I've got a little proposition for you."

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes.

Ares handed her a few gold drachmas.

She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..."

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.

I gave Ares a massive look of disapproval.

Ares laughed. "What? Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."

"What favor could I do for a god?" I ask.

"Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little...date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."

"Is there a reason why you need me to do it? I’m sure one of your kids would jump at the opportunity to do something for you.” I tell him.

The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter, then he let out a loud “HA!”

"That I could do. But I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Izzy Mira. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Are you too scared after taking a little fall into a river?”

I really wanted to punch this guy, but I knew he was waiting for that. That’s what his power does: cause anger and throw rationality out the window. He'd love it if I attacked. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I knew I had to take the quest, but I still didn’t want to say yes too easily.

“We've already got a quest." I say.

Ares's fiery eyes made me see things I didn't want to see—blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well ... if I couldn't find it, you've got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Despite you being old Corpse Breath’s spawn. I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride to keep going west for you and your friends. The water park is a mile west on Delancey. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

"What interrupted your date?" I asked. "Did something scare you off?"

Ares bared his teeth, but I'd seen his threatening look before on Clarisse. There was something false about it, almost like he was nervous.

"You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me."

When I blinked and opened my eyes again, Ares was gone. I might've thought the conversation had been a dream, but Annabeth and Rachel's expressions told me otherwise.

I stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared.

"We should just go," Rachel said, a bit worried.

"We can't," Annabeth said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune."

I looked down at my cheeseburger, which I was never a fan of, but now it seemed even less appetizing than usual.

“Why does he need us?" Rachel asks.

"Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," Annabeth said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

"But this water park...he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?" Rachel asked.

I looked at Annabeth, who seemed nervous as well. "I'm afraid we'll have to find out."

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D.

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry water slides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy.

"So how do we get in?"

“The old-fashioned way.” Annabeth says.

We began to climb over the gate. holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top. Gladiola just squeezed herself between the bars, and Baltimore flew over easily.

The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit?

No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise.

We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of—

"Clothes," Annabeth said.

"Yeah," I said. "Are you really going to—"

"Watch me."

Even though we managed to save our bags from the explosion, we had run out and were in need of clean clothes.

Annabeth snatched an entire row of stuff off the racks and disappeared into the changing room. A few minutes later she came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over her shoulder, her old bag discarded.

"Eh? What the heck?" I shrugged.

Soon, all three of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park. Rachel found a dog life jacket for Gladiola, and I tied a bandanna on Baltimore; he didn’t want to be left out.

We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath.

"So Ares’ girlfriend is Aphrodite, right?" I said to keep my mind off the growing dark. "Do they still have a thing going on?"

"That's old gossip, Izzy," Annabeth told me. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip, of course they’re still a thing."

"What about Aphrodite's husband, Hephaestus?” Rachel asked.

"Well, you know," Annabeth said. "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?"

"She likes bikers," I said.

"Whatever." Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"Hephaestus knows?" Rachel asks.

"Oh sure," Annabeth said. "He caught them together once. I mean, they literally caught them in a golden net and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like..." She stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that."

In front of us was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl.

Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire.

On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Rachel crept toward the edge. "Guys, look."

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze.

I’d say this would be easy if I didn’t read the books, but I did, and I have, Rachel. Maybe her clear sight will allow us to see the trap.

"There's a Greek letter carved here," she said. "Eta. I wonder ..."

“Trap.” I say, “It’s a trap, isn’t it?”

Annabeth seems a bit shocked, then after some thinking she realizes I’m right: “…yeah, how’d you—“

“Learning new languages is something I’m not terrible at. We should keep our eyes peeled.” I respond quickly.

I got a little lower on the side of the pool, then turned around back towards Rachel and Annabeth with my hand out. “Let’s go.”

“Are you kidding?" She looked at me as if I'd just dropped from the moon. Her cheeks were bright red.

"What?" I demanded.

"Me, go with you to the ... the 'Thrill Ride of Love'? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?"

“What—“ I remembered Annabeth gave this reaction to Percy in the books too, but I’m a girl!

Rachel took my hand and joined me on the side of the pool. Then stared back at Annabeth, “Who's going to see you? And we’re all girls.” Rachel asked; she practically read my mind.

Me and Rachel began walking down, and Annabeth eventually followed; I heard her mention something about us being stupid.

We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement park ride. Why?

Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other, they could look at their favorite people: themselves.

I picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable—rose or mountain laurel. Something good. I smiled, a little dreamy, then jolted my head away, snapping myself out of whatever that was.

Annabeth looked a bit shocked.

“That was weird.” I said, pushing some hair out of my face.

“What was what?” Rachel asked.

“That was love magic; I’m surprised you snapped out of it.” Annabeth told me.

That was love magic? That didn’t feel like the kind of love I know. Must be romantic love. I wonder if I’ll feel it and it’s not induced by my magic.

"Let’s just get the shield, and let's get out of here." Annabeth said,

I almost touched the shield when Rachel yelled for me to stop.

I froze and put my hand up.

“What is it?” Annabeth asks Rachel.

“Don’t you see that?” Rachel pointed.

“See what?” Annabeth didn’t see what Rachel was pointing at.

I grabbed a flashlight from my bag and shined it where Rachel was pointing. There it was, some kind of metal filament, so fine it was almost invisible. Connecting the shield to the dashboard. A tripwire.

“That’s the trap.” Annabeth says,

“That was too close, thanks Rachel.” I say to my best friend, “How are we going to get the shield?” I ask as I turn to Annabeth.

She took the flashlight from my hand and began inspecting the filaments. “I’m not sure how to disarm it; it could take too long to figure out.”

“Then how about we trigger the trap?” I ask, and both Rachel and Annabeth give me concerned looks.

“Not here! I meant, like, from a distance!” I explain, my hands moving with my words, “Annabeth, you could come up with a way for us to get the shield from a distance, right?”

Annabeth began thinking; she then looked at the scarf, and a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. “Give me the scarf.” She said, and I did; she then turned to Rachel, “Rachel, can you go back to the souvenir shop and grab as many towels as you can find?”

Rachel nods, then heads back up the side of the pool.

Annabeth begins tying the scarf around the shield.

“So what’s the plan, wise girl?”

“Physics,” she says. “Also, I’m going to need to borrow Baltimore.”

I give her a confused look, then look back up the side of the pool and see Baltimore and Gladiola looking down at us.

When she finished trying her millionth knot around the shield with the scarf, Rachel returned with an entire cart of towels. Not sure where she found that.

We began making a long rope out of the towels, following Annabeth’s instructions to the letter with the knots. When we finished, Annabeth attached the towel rope to the scarf, and then we walked out of the pool, with the end of the towel rope, slowly, careful not to trigger the trap.

When we made it out of the pool, Annabeth then turned to me.

“How smart is that bird?” She asks, looking at Baltimore.

“Uh, pretty smart,” Too smart, if I’m being honest, “If you want him to do something specific or complicated, you’re going to have to explain it to him, though.”

I think I should have told her that Baltimore doesn’t like being talked to like an idiot, because Annabeth started explaining really slowly what she wanted him to do like he was mentally incompetent. She essentially wanted Baltimore to loop the towel rope through one of the loops in one of the lights above the pool to make a makeshift pulley. But the way she was explaining it was starting to upset Baltimore and me as well. Eventually, Annabeth let out a deep sigh when she thought Baltimore didn’t understand, “This is crazy. What am I expecting? A dumb bird to pull this off?“

Uh-oh. At that insult, Baltimore let out a very offended sound, slapped Annabeth in the face with his wing, grabbed the towel rope with his talons, and took off.

We stood there stunned. Rachel had her hand over her mouth, and even Gladiola seemed a bit shocked.

Then Annabeth slowly looked at me, “…did that bird just?”

“Yeah… I forgot to mention that he doesn’t like being treated like an idiot.” I say, scratching the back of my neck, Baltimore returns and drops the towel rope on Annabeth’s head before landing on my shoulder, looking away from Annabeth dramatically.

I think Annabeth debated whether or not to fight my raven.

We looked at the light where Baltimore had laced the towel rope; he’d done it just right.

“So what now?” I ask Annabeth.

“Now, we pull really hard, really fast.” She tells us.

We position ourselves as Annabeth instructs us, and then, on her mark, we pull and run back as far as we can, only stopping when we feel the rope can’t go back any further. “Quick! Tie the rope end!” Annabeth! shouted.

We tied the towel rope around a nearby trash can. When we looked over to the pool, we saw the shield up in the air where Baltimore had completed the pulley.

We all let out a breath of relief, seeing the pulley had worked. But the relief was short-lived when we saw the trap activate.

The Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. They fired at each other across the rim of the pool. Silky cable trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net.

“That would’ve been bad to deal with if we were down there.” I say Annabeth and Rachel agree with me.

The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, and a loudspeaker voice boomed, "Live to Olympus in one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..."

"Hephaestus!" Annabeth screamed. "He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now a live broadcast will be sent to Olympus!"

“Then we better get that shield fast!” I yell.

We run back to the rim when we see the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic...things poured out.

Annabeth screamed.

It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward the center of the pool in a wave of clacking, whirring metal.

"Spiders!" Annabeth said. "Sp—sp—aaaah!"

I knew Annabeth was scared of spiders; I am too, but I punch them. They just petrify her more than Medusa ever could. She fell backward in terror and would’ve hit the ground if Rachel didn’t catch her.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked worriedly.

“Sp—Sp—“ Annabeth sputtered.

“She has arachnophobia.” I tell Rachel, we watch as the metallic spiders are coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, towards the boat.

“The shield is still up in the air! How do we get it down?” Rachel asked Annabeth, but she was too paralyzed to do much more than scream.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker.

Think, I told myself. Think.

I have a stupid idea. I ran over to the edge of the pool by the rim in front of where the shield was dangling in the air. On the other side of the pool, I try and reach into the earth. I feel the pull in my gut, and a stone ramp slide comes out, the end facing the pool.

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called.

I positioned myself ready to jump. I knew I’d never actually make it on my own, but if I made rocks shoot out really fast, I could maybe propel myself. I turned my ring into a sword, ready to cut the towrope.

“Ten, nine,”

Here goes nothing. I feel for the earth beneath me and imagine I’m bending the earth. I feel the pull again; rocks shoot out under me at an angle, and suddenly, I’m airborne. I’m swinging my sword like crazy when I get close enough, and it somehow works. I grab the shield as it falls, and with my momentum, I fall to the other side of the pool. Now for the next part of my stupid plan, and hoping it won’t hurt too much. I strapped on Ares's shield and braced for impact.

I actually managed to land on the stone ramp and slid down on the shield, but I wipe out at the end and hit the ground with a thud.

“Ow…” I think Ares’ shield cut my shoulder, but I don’t have time to feel pain; some of the spiders are heading towards the others. Annabeth was screaming her head off, Rachel was trying to stomp on them, Gladiola was barking at them, and Baltimore was trying to take the spiders out with his talons.

"Five, four—"

I hear the timer, grab the scarf-tied shield, and run as I put it on my arm. “I got the shield! Run!”

Rachel didn’t need to be told twice; she grabbed Gladiola and was ready to book it, but one of the spiders got on Annabeth, and she was freaking out.

"Two, one, zero!"

With strength I didn’t know I had, probably from the adrenaline, I picked up Annabeth with my free arm and slumped her on my shoulder as I continued to run.

“Look!” Rachel shouted when we were a good distance away from the pool and spiders. I put Annabeth down, and we saw the pool flooding with water, spotlights glared down at the center, and the Cupid-cams were rolling live to Olympus.

That definitely would’ve been embarrassing if we were in there when the trap went off.

We made it, but it wasn’t over yet. A spider must’ve crawled on Annabeth because she was screaming again. Luckily, Baltimore swooped down and grabbed the spider off of her and dropped it on the ground; it started moving all creepy-crawly again. I dropped the shield, turned my ring into a war hammer, and shattered the mechanical bug into pieces.

“I…hate…spiders…” I say in between breaths, Baltimore lands on my shoulder and seems to agree, and Annabeth’s looking at us like we just saved a baby from a burning building.

Once we caught our breath, we all looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids, not having anything to follow since we weren’t caught in the trap, turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool.

I hated being teased. I hated being messed with. I hefted the shield on my arm and turned to my friends. "Let’s get out of here. We need to have a little talk with Ares."

Chapter Text

Ares was waiting for us in the parking lot behind the diner.

"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You could have warned us about the trap," I said.

Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted nothing."

I shoved his shield at him.

Annabeth caught her breath.

Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked behind him in the parking lot behind the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which read: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

I said, "Of course."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. Inside were a bunch of rare animals you’d only see on National Geographic. “Free ride west, punk. Don’t complain. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to me. I knew what it was.

Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuffed Oreos.

I didn’t see anything else, but Rachel probably could. I tilted the inside of the bag towards her, hoping she’d see it.

"Thank you, lord Are—“

“What’s that?” Rachel asked with wide eyes, pointing inside the bag, cutting off Annabeth.

“What’s what?” Annabeth asks, not seeing what Rachel’s seeing. I glanced at Ares; I saw him flinch, ever so slightly. I bet he didn’t know how amazing Rachel’s clear sight is.

Rachel takes the bag from me, reaches in, and: POOF!

A cloud of sparks came out of the bag as though Rachel had broken something, and out she pulled a two-foot-long celestial lightning bolt.

“That’s the Master Bolt…” Annabeth says in disbelief.

I look at Ares, who looks pissed and like he’s about to kill Rachel.

I had my hand on Riptide, ready to uncap.

“It was you,” I say to the war god. “You had the bolt, not Hades. You have the Helm of Darkness too, don’t you?”

That really seems to shock him, as well as Annabeth and Rachel. I saw him bring his hand slightly closer to his pocket.

“But you’re not the thief,” I say with certainty. “The gods can’t steal each other’s symbols. So who is the thief?” I ask, even though I know he probably won’t admit it.

“Doesn't matter. I don’t know how your little mortal did that. But you're impeding the war effort; you should’ve been on your way to the underworld.” He says, “I can’t have you bring the bolt back to Zeus, not when we’re this close to a nice little three-way slugfest; all that was left was to frame Poseidon for stealing the helm to top it all off.”

So that was his plan, since I’m not a child of Poseidon that changed so much of the story, to get all of the big three fully involved; the helm would have to be used in a way to ensure Poseidon stayed in the fight.

“But why?” Rachel asks, her voice quivering slightly.

Ares glares at her. “So there'd be a fantastic war, obviously.”

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. There's nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

“But why not just keep the master bolt and the helm for yourself?" I said. "You’d have all that power and not use it?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. Kronos. “Why didn't I...yeah...with that kind of firepower..." He held the trance for one second...two seconds....

I exchanged nervous looks with Annabeth and Rachel.

Ares's face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught red-handed, holding the thing. But I guess things have changed now. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal.”

He raises his hand like he’s about to snap his fingers, so I decide to do something really, really stupid.

I uncap Riptide and point the sword at Ares and shout, “I challenge you to single combat!”

Everyone froze.

“What?” Ares said with a laugh, sounding pretty confused.

My friends have the same response, minus the laugh. Annabeth whips her head at me so hard it should’ve popped off. Rachel is staring at me with wide eyes; they'd fall out if someone knocked her head while still holding the Master Bolt. Even Gladiola and Baltimore look at me like I just did the stupidest thing in the world; I probably did.

“One-on-one, but I set the terms. If I draw blood first, I keep the bolt, you surrender the helm, and you tell us the identity of the real thief. You win, you kill me, take back the bolt, and keep the helm.”

Ares laughs like he heard the funniest joke of the century.

“Do you accept?” I ask him.

“I mean, it’s your funeral, kid. Although, just to be clear, no funeral. Any trace of you leaves a trace of my plan, and we can’t have that.” He says, dropping his laugh.

“It wasn’t your plan, though, was it? It was Kronos.” I say knowingly.

His expression turns more serious and dark.

“It was his idea to frame me and steal Hades' helm and Zeus’ bolt to start a war. Is that where he got to you, too? From the pit?”

“I am the god of war! No one tells me how to start a fight! I don't have dreams!" He yells angrily.

There it is. "Who said anything about dreams?"

I can practically see smoke coming out of his nose. “After you die…your friends are next.” He tells me.

I feel my rage build, my grip on Riptide tightening. “Do you swear on the river Styx to keep your word?”

“Sure, you’ll be dead anyway.” He says as a giant two-handed sword appears in his hand.

“Izzy," Annabeth said. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"There’s no way out of this," I told her.

She swallowed. "Wear this, at least. For luck."

She took off her necklace, with her seven years' worth of camp beads and the ring from her father, and tied it around my neck.

"Reconciliation," she said. "Athena and Hades together."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

"And take this," Rachel said. She tied her favorite colorful bracelet on my wrist. "I believe in you, even if this is crazy.”

"Are you all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited, and I cannot die. What have you got?"

A smaller ego, I thought, but I said nothing. I kept my feet light, leaning on the balls of my feet. I thought back to what Annabeth had said inside the diner: Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes.

He cleaved downward at my head, but I wasn't there.

My body thought for me. The ground seemed to push me into the air, and I catapulted over him, slashing as I came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again. I tried to sidestep to avoid it, but Ares seemed to know what I wanted. He outmaneuvered me, pressing so hard I had to put all my concentration on not getting sliced into pieces. I couldn't find any openings to attack. His sword had a reach several feet longer than Riptide. And the only reason I wasn’t using my Stygian weapon was because that would cause a whole lot of other problems.

Get in close, Luke had told me once, back in our sword class. When you've got the shorter blade, get in close.

I stepped inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked my blade out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I went airborne—twenty, maybe thirty feet. I would've broken my back if I hadn't crashed into the soft dirt in the parking lot.

"Izzy!" Annabeth and Rachel yelled.

I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had just been hit with a battering ram, but I managed to get to my feet.

I couldn't look away from Ares for fear he'd slice me in half. I ran for my sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find my blade deflected again.

Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it.

I stepped back into the shadows, forcing him to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You have no hope."

Normally, I might agree, but my senses were working overtime. I now understood what Annabeth had said about ADHD keeping you alive in battle. I was wide awake, noticing every little detail.

I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike. At the same time, I was aware of Annabeth, Rachel, Baltimore, and Gladiola, thirty feet to my left. I could hear sirens wailing far in the distance; someone must’ve called the cops. I also heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above. More sirens.

I barely managed to stand on my feet as I stumbled back further into the shadows, Ares following suit.

I wanted nothing more than to be able to slip away from him. And then, I fell. I don’t know what happened; one moment I was standing in front of Ares, and the next I was walking backwards in a dark tunnel. I turned around, looked up a bit, and saw Ares. I was behind him, beneath him; he looked confused. I saw an opening and took it.

I leaped up and slashed Riptide at the god's heel, then ran around, facing him as he let out a roar that should have made my eardrums burst.

The dirt and loose pieces of ground blasted back from Ares, leaving a dustless circle of ground fifty feet wide. I stood in front of the kneeling god with Riptide towards him.

I watched the ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flow from a gash in the war god's boot. I saw the expression on his face; it was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, and complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.

I could hear Annabeth and Rachel let out shocked gasps.

Ares tried getting up toward me, muttering ancient Greek curses. I beat him to it; I moved my fidget ring and summoned my Stygian blade. I was now holding two blades to the war god's throat.

“I could’ve used this blade on you; it would’ve hurt a lot more.” I say, staring down at Ares. He says nothing but gives me a look that should be making me tremble, but I don’t feel scared. “Remember your oath.” I tell him, with no fear in my voice; he grimaces, seeming to have just remembered I made him swear on the River Styx. I took a step back and heard Annabeth and Rachel run beside me.

Ares claps very slowly, “Yay! That was so cool.” He says with the fakest smile. “Luke Castellan.” He grunts as he gets up, leaning more on his uninjured leg. I could hear Annabeth's breathing stop. “You know what you really won today? An enemy for life.”

His body began to glow.

“Don’t look at his true form!" Annabeth! shouted.

I turned away as the god Ares revealed his true immortal form. I somehow knew that if I looked, I would disintegrate into ashes.

The light died.

I looked back. Ares was gone. In his place was Hades's helm of darkness.

I picked it up and walked back to my friends.

“It’s Hades’ helm.” Annabeth says in disbelief.

But as I walked to them, I heard the flapping of leathery wings behind me. I turned around, and from the other side of the diner parking lot landed a monster matching Rachel's description of the Fury on the bus, Alecto. She began towards us, not threateningly, but it didn’t make Annabeth or Rachel less scared.

I heard Annabeth pull out her knife and Rachel her blue hairbrush. The Fury still walked towards us.

“Hello, Alecto.” I say, Fury, who stops instantly when she hears me say my name.

“How did you know my name?” She asked.

“Lucky guess,” I say as I shrug. “I know there’s three of you and that I had a one out of three chance of getting your name right.”

She narrows her eyes, studying me as if trying to discern if I’m lying. "I saw the whole thing,” she hissed/said.

I tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

“Then you know who the real thief is: Luke Castellan,” I said. “Tell your master the truth of what happened here, and warn him that Kronos is gathering his strength.”

She looked at me. “Your father—“

“Doesn’t have to worry, I’ll return the bolt to Zeus.” I say cut off Alecto. I don’t like hearing Hades being called my father.

Alecto looked like she was about to say something else, but I couldn't hear her.

I suddenly feel weak, everything’s going dark, and I collapse on the ground. I hear Rachel yell, I hear sirens, and then I hear nothing. 

Chapter Text

My nightmare started out as something different this time; I was being forced to take a standardized test while wearing a straitjacket. All the other kids got to leave, but I couldn't. The teacher kept saying, Come on, Izzy. You're not stupid, are you? Pick up your pencil.

Then the dream continued.

I looked over at the next desk and saw a girl sitting there, also wearing a straitjacket. She looked around Annabeth’s age, maybe a bit older, with unruly black, punk-style wavy hair, dark eyeliner around her sea green eyes, and freckles across her nose.

She struggled against the straitjacket, glared at me in frustration, and snapped, Well, Zombie Brain? One of us has to get out of here.

She's right, my dream-self thought. I still have to return the bolt to Zeus, I have to warn the camp about Luke, and I have to change the ending!

The straitjacket melted off me. I fell through the classroom floor. The teacher's voice changed until it was cold and evil, echoing from the depths of a great chasm.

Izzy Mira, it said. The exchange went more horribly than it ever could have.

I was back in the dark cavern, spirits of the dead drifting around me, covering me, clutching me.

Unseen in the pit, the monstrous thing was speaking, but this time it wasn't addressing me. The numbing power of its voice seemed directed somewhere else and angry.

How did she know!? it asked angrily.

Another voice, one I sadly recognized, answered at my shoulder. I do not know, my lord.

I looked over, but no one was there. The speaker was invisible. But I knew who it was. I tried focusing my eyes to see him.

The deception has failed. The voice said with rage and disappointment.

My lord, said the voice next to me, you are well-named the Crooked One. But I could have brought you what I stole directly—

You? the monster said in scorn. You have already shown your limits. You would have failed me completely had I not intervened. And now that imbecile has failed as well.

But, my lord—

Quiet. Our six months have bought us much. Now it may all be for naught. You shall have to wait for the reward you wish and your revenge... but wait. She is here.

What? The invisible servant suddenly sounded tense, and he started to become visible, blurry but visible. You summoned her, my lord?

No. The full force of the monster's attention was now pouring over me, freezing me in place. Blast her father's blood—she is too strong, too unpredictable. The girl brought herself hither.

Impossible! The servant cried. The blurry figure began to take form, and then I saw who it was. I saw his unmistakable scar; it was Luke.

He really is a traitor. I can't help but feel sad. I knew it was a long shot that this wouldn't happen, but still, I didn’t want it to.

Even though I can see Luke, I know he can't see me.

For a weakling such as you, perhaps. The voice snarled at Luke. Then its cold power turned back on me. So…You wish to dream, young half-blood? Then I will oblige.

The scene changed.

I was in a different place; it was like the chaos that ensued after my dreams, but worse. It was just carnage, death, and brutality. I felt sick to my stomach; everywhere I turned, there was only destruction. The smell of blood filled the air; ash stuck in my breath as I tried to cough.

I tried to breathe, but when I did, all that came out was blood.

I coughed again, more blood. I tried to scream, see, and smell, but from every opening on my face, I could feel blood coming out. I toppled down and fell on mangled corpses, then I felt laurels fall that smoked with poison, burning into my scalp.

The evil voice began to laugh. Hail, the conquering hero!

I woke up with a start. Gasping for air, full of relief that I felt no blood in my throat, but the taste of metal still lingered in my mouth.

“Izzy!” Rachel’s voice called to me.

I looked up and saw her looking down at me. I’m lying down on some sort of…sack pillow? I try to get up, but Rachel stops me.

“Nuh-uh, Izzy,” Rachel tells me as she gently shoves my head back on the weird pillow. “You shouldn’t even be moving after what just happened; you need more rest.”

Wait, rest?

“Crap, how long was I out?” I ask worriedly.

“Less than a day,” I hear a familiar voice beside me.

I look over and see Annabeth sitting on some sacks, holding her knees, looking deep in thought, but mostly sad. “You should have been asleep for at least a week; shadow travel takes a lot out of the user, especially the first time. According to Alecto anyway.”

Right, Alecto. “Shadow travel? What happened?”

Annabeth finally turned to me. “Back in your fight with Ares, when you suddenly got behind him, that was shadow travel. You went through the shadows to get behind him.”

I could feel my eyes go wide. I read about shadow travel in the books, but I didn’t think I’d be able to use it.

“Wait, you said I should’ve been out for a week; how am I awake?” I ask.

“That was thanks to Alecto.” Rachel says, handing me a canteen.

I take a sip and recognize it as nectar. I then ask, “How did Alecto help?”

“She was the one who told us about shadow travel; she also gave us a healing potion of one kind.” Rachel told me.

“A healing potion?” I say, a bit confused.

“Yeah, it’s the only reason you woke up as soon as you did, but you still need to rest.” Rachel insisted.

I laid my head back when I smelled…poo? I also heard animal sounds. I looked around and finally realized we were in a truck full of animals all stuffed in crates that definitely classify as health code violations.

“Uh…Where are we?” I ask, looking around.

“Remember the truck Ares got for us?” Rachel asked. I nod, “We’re in that.”

“Why?”

“The police showed up; someone called them, so we hopped in to avoid being seen.” Rachel explains, then gets up when she hears a lion growl. I look over and see an albino lion who looks to be starved. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Rachel picks up a bucket that seems to be full of meat, and the lion growls louder, “That’s enough out of you!” Rachel tells the lion, who actually seems quite shocked at Rachel’s tone, “Now open wide so I can feed you.”

Surprisingly, it does. She throws a piece of meat in the lion's mouth, and it quickly devours it. She then waits for it to finish eating before giving it some more.

I look around the truck and see Gladiola barking at a wolf; that tiny pink poodle has the spirit of a tiger. I glance up and see Baltimore having a conversation with a disheveled toucan, but he flies over to me when he sees I’m awake.

I made eye contact with Annabeth, who looked away; we needed to talk. “Annabeth, we need to talk about Luke—“

“No,” she says, cutting me off, “it’s not true; he can’t be the thief. Ares must’ve lied.”

I look at her gently. I know she doesn’t want to believe it , but it’s true.

“Ares swore on the River Styx.” I reminded her.

She looked over at me, not angry, but upset, “It’s not like the gods haven’t broken an oath on the River Styx before!”

She says it convincingly, but I think she’s trying to convince herself more than me.

“I wish it wasn’t true, Annabeth, I really do.” I tell her, “But it is, and it’s not just Ares; I dreamed again, and I saw Luke.”

Annabeth looked at me, eyes widening.

“He was talking to someone, saying that he should have delivered what he stole to him.”

“How are you so sure it was him!” Annabeth asked.

“It was him, Annabeth. His voice, his scar—it was all there. Annabeth, he was talking to his “lord.” He called him “The Crooked-One.” You know who that is, don’t you?” I ask her gently.

“No.” Annabeth says softly into her knees.

“Annabeth…”

“No no no no no no…”

“Annabeth…” I reach over to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shoves it off, grabs me by the collar, and shoves me against the wall of the truck, hitting my head really hard. All the animals and Rachel go quiet.

“No!’ She yells at me, teeth clenched; she’s angry, but not at me. A tear rolls down her face.

I bring my hand to her face and gently wipe away the tears. When I do, she looks stunned, and then more tears fall, and she begins sobbing.

I gently pull her to me, her head resting on my chest as I hold her while she cries. We stay like that for a while, until she pulls away and sits beside me. Baltimore gently nuzzles her before sitting on my lap. Rachel comes over and quietly sits on my other side with Gladiola on hers.

“It’s really true,” Annabeth says. “I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned from sad to angry. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. He never was the same after his quest."

“Who should we tell?” Rachel asks.

“We need to report this to Chiron,” Annabeth said. “We need to send an Iris message.” She began searching her pockets for a drachma, but I pulled her arm, stopping her. “This is something we should tell in person. Plus, what if Luke answers again?”

Annabeth nods, then puts her hand down.

“What about the gods?” Rachel asks, “Since we’re on the way to Olympus, can’t we warn them directly?”

“Maybe if we weren’t heading the opposite direction.” Annabeth says, sounding down.

“Hey,” I say softly with a smile as I bump shoulders with her, “we still have some time till the summer solstice. Ares said this truck was stopping in Vegas; once we stop, we’ll head straight back to New York. We got this, we’re a team.”

Annabeth smiles back at me a little bit. She grabs the bag Ares gave us and fishes out an Oreo before handing the bag to me. I grab a cookie for myself before handing the bag over to Rachel.

“In the Iris message back in Denver…what did Luke say?” Annabeth asked,

“He said you two go way back.” Annabeth looks at me. “You both have seven beads on your necklace, and Grover’s first test to get his searcher’s license was seven years ago.” I hear Rachel almost drop the bag. “Grover was the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of—Poseidon," I say, stopping myself from almost saying Zeus.

Annabeth nodded.

"And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp ... That was you and Luke, wasn't it?" I ask, knowing the answer.

Annabeth puts down her other Oreo, uneaten. "Like you and Rachel said, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was 14. Luke was 12. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them when they saw I could handle myself. They were...amazing monster fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for a while, and just trying to get by every day. Thalia and Luke's birthdays were no different either. We kept on surviving, relying on each other, and then Grover found us."

We turned to hear Rachel softly crying. "He was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," she said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. He had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. He knew Hades was after her, but he couldn't just leave Luke and you by yourselves. He thought...he thought he could lead all three of you to safety.”

“You know?” Annabeth asks, surprise in her voice.

“Grover told me before we left. He blames himself for what happened…” Rachel says, wiping her tears, I pull her into a side hug, and she leans on my shoulder.

"No one blames him though,” Annabeth says. “Thalia didn't blame him either. She sacrificed herself to save us,"

“The Council of Cloven Elders said it was his fault, and he believes it.” Rachel says sadly, “All because he has a big heart. If this quest fails, if I fail, then Grover may never get to become a searcher, all because he chose to save me. I…I have to prove he made the right choice.” Rachel says with a shaky voice, but also a bit of determination. I think Annabeth can sense it too.

“He didn’t make the wrong choice saving you, Rachel.” I tell my best friend.

“She’s right, you know.” Annabeth says, “If it wasn’t for you, we probably would’ve triggered Hephaestus’ trap, and we wouldn’t have noticed the bolt. Who knows how much time we would have wasted? Grover made the right choice.” Annabeth says with certainty.

Rachel gets teary-eyed, leans over me, and pulls Annabeth into a tight, awkward hug over my legs.

They pull back after Annabeth pats Rachel's back, and Rachel looks at Annabeth’s necklace.

“That pine-tree bead," she said. "Is that from your first year?" Rachel asked.

Annabeth looked. She hadn't realized what she was doing. "Yeah," she said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, and a centaur in a prom dress—now that was a weird summer...."

"And the college ring is your father's?" I ask.

"That's none of your—" She stopped herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"You don't have to talk about it.” I say to her.

"No...it's okay." She took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten into Harvard without her....That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk and said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Rachel said, I think I almost heard envy; her parents never say anything like that to her.

"Yeah, well...the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood." Annabeth explained.

"Do you think you'll ever try living with your dad again?" I ask.

She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain."

"You shouldn't give up," Rachel told her. "You should write him a letter or something."

"Thanks for the advice," she said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with."

“But what about who he loves?” I ask Annabeth softly.

She doesn't meet my eyes.

We passed another few miles in silence.

“I'm sorry…” Annabeth said softly.

“…for what?” I ask after swallowing another Oreo.

“For slamming you against the wall,”

“You were feeling a lot of things,”

“For freaking out back at the water park."

"That's okay."

"It's just..." She shuddered. "Spiders."

"Because of the Arachne story," I guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?"

Annabeth nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things.”

“Spiders scare the crap out of me too, all bugs really. One time a cockroach crawled right next to me; I almost jumped out of my bedroom window.” I tell her.

“Seriously?” She says with disbelief. But I can also see a smile form on her face.

“It’s true,” Rachel says, chiming in, “She threw all her textbooks at it while standing on her bed! She was so scared!”

“Hey, you were no different! All you did was chuck your blue hairbrush at it before joining me on the bed!” I say back.

“Wait, both of you were terrified of a cockroach?!” Annabeth barely managed to say before laughing.

“It was a huge cockroach! And then Rachel said, At least it isn’t a flying cockroach!” I say in my Rachel voice.

“No way.” Annabeth says with wide eyes.

“The thing started flying right at us.” Rachel said quickly and looking away, and at that Annabeth was toppling over laughing, and even Baltimore was laughing, or at least was making it clear that he found the story hilarious as well.

Rachel and I join her in her laughs.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, Annabeth looked at me. She looks serious, as if she’s debating what to say next. “I’m sorry about what I said to you when we left Medusa’s…for…not understanding why you were upset. To be honest, I still don’t fully understand—sorry.” Annabeth says, trying not to pry.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, “you told me about your parents; it’s fair I tell you about mine.” I feel Rachel take my hand in hers as I begin to tell Rachel about my past.

“My past wasn't like yours…I grew up with my little brother, raised by two parents, knowing, thinking, I was theirs. And they thought the same of me. I didn’t show typical demigod traits; I don’t have dyslexia, monsters never attacked me, heck, I never even knew monsters existed until this year!” I say a bit exasperated before continuing, “Then…the accident happened.”

I could feel Rachel’s hand tighten around mine.

“Do you know why Grover and Chiron came to me and Rachel’s school?” I ask Annabeth.

“Because of the earthquake, they said they suddenly sensed a powerful demigod, and then the scent suddenly almost vanished.” Annabeth responded.

“My dad and my brother were in a car accident. My brother’s been comatose since…and my dad…he didn’t make it…” I say, looking down as I feel Annabeth’s eyes “Everything inside me shut down. I couldn’t feel anything. I didn’t even cry at my dad’s funeral. I just felt…numb, and then, it happened.”

“The earthquake.” Annabeth answered.

“I don’t know how I caused it; I didn’t even notice it. If it wasn’t for Rachel, who knows what would’ve happened." I look over at my best friend.

“I didn’t do anything extraordinary.” Rachel said humbly.

“You were there,” I told her, “you had my back, you stayed with me, even though I was no fun to be around.”

“You’re my best friend; I’ll always have your back.” Rachel smiles at me.

I smile back. “After that, I was still pretty low, then Grover showed up, then Baltimore, then Chiron, then I came to camp. Where I was suddenly told one of my parents isn’t my real parent.” I took a deep breath, “and when Hades claimed me…I got scared. My dad…the one who raised me isn’t, wasn’t, my dad.” I looked over at Annabeth. “I wasn’t just scared for myself; I was scared of the truth and what it meant for my mom. I know it’s a possibility that my mom had an affair, but I know that’s not what happened. My mom isn’t like that, and the last serious relationship my mom was in was a year before she met my dad. Then I started…I started thinking of the possibilities, and none of them looked good for my mom. So when we met Medusa…”

“She reminded you of your mom.” Annabeth finishes.

I nod slowly. “You say your mother thinks of you and her children as gifts to their mortal parents, right?”

Annabeth nods.

“My mom said I was the greatest gift to her and my dad…her husband. If I…if I’m right, then… My mom doesn’t know I’m not her husband’s, and she doesn't know what happened to her…if she found out, would she still see me as a gift? What then?” I ask Annabeth, my voice barely above a whisper.

But she was silent; the daughter of wisdom did not have an answer, only sympathy. She leaned her head against the wall. "I don't know. I just know I'll stand next to you, no matter what happens."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because you're my friend, Zombie Brain. Any more stupid questions?" She asks me, but not in a mean way, but with a bit of a smile.

“Thanks,” I say softly as I lean my head on her shoulder for a moment, which is quickly interrupted by the sound of the animals. They seemed upset, and not just because of their living conditions.

Rachel went back over to them, and Annabeth and I joined her. When we got closer, the sights and smells did not get any better.

The animals looked at us sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them right away, and so was Rachel, but I pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Besides, I had a feeling we might look a lot better to the lion than the meat Rachel was feeding it earlier.

I found a water jug and refilled their bowls, but Rachel still looked so sad. That was when I noticed some kind of clipboard behind the lion’s cage. I asked Baltimore to grab it for me, and he did so easily, flying above the lion’s cage. When I read what was on it, I felt sick but also glad Grover wasn’t here.

“Guys, look at this.” I said, holding the clipboard towards my friends.

Rachel gasped loudly, and Annabeth’s reaction wasn’t much different.

This wasn’t a “kind zoo”; it was an animal smuggling truck. The clipboard was full of information about what was going to happen to the animals; most of them were going to be turned into bad decorations.

“This is horrible! We have to do something!” Rachel said, tears in her eyes, “We have to save them!”

The animals all started making sounds, as if Rachel’s words were indeed what they wanted. Their sounds only made Rachel’s heart bleed more; I could tell she was about to go climb out of the truck all the way to the front to beat up the truckers with her blue hairbrush.

Annabeth and I would’ve joined her, but, again, we’re in a moving vehicle.

But then it wasn’t.

"The truck's stopped," Rachel said. "I think they're coming to check on the animals."

"Hide!" Annabeth hissed. She had it easy. She just put on her magic cap and disappeared.

Rachel and I had to dive behind feed sacks and hope we looked like animal food.

The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in.

"Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances."

He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes.

"You hot, big boy?" He asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face.

The lion roared in indignation.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said.

Next to me, under the sacks, Rachel tensed. She looked downright murderous. Grover’s love of nature has definitely rubbed off on her.

The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zorse. "How are you doing, striped freak? At least we'll be getting rid of you at this stop. You like stuffed animals? You're going to love this one. They're going to turn you into one!"

The zorse, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at me. There was no sound, but I could understand that it was asking for help.

There was a loud knock, knock, knock on the side of the trailer. The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?"

A voice outside—it must've been Eddie's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd you say?"

"What are you banging for?"

Knock, knock, knock.

Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?"

Our guy, Maurice, rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer.

She spoke, "These smugglers can’t be up to anything good."

"We've got to free them!" Rachel said.

She and Annabeth both looked at me, waiting for my lead.

Guess we're leading a jailbreak.

Outside, while Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, I uncapped Riptide and slashed the lock off the zorse’s cage.

The hybrid burst out and ran as far away from me as possible.

Just as Maurice poked his head back inside to check out the noise, the zorse leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking.

We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zorse galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs.

We'd just released a zorse in Las Vegas.

Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!"

"Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said.

"The other animals first," Rachel said.

I cut the locks with my sword, and Rachel ushered the animals out. I also snapped a picture of her doing it, another one for the scrapbook, plus Grover will be so proud of her.

"Good luck," I told the animals as they burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets, heading away from the humans.

Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of weird show.

I knew without a guide they'd probably get hurt, so I asked Baltimore to lead them to somewhere safe. He nuzzles me and takes off.

Even though I don't know exactly how long he'll be gone, I know I’ll see him soon.

“Why’d you send Baltimore away?” Annabeth asked.

“The animals don’t have any guidance out here. Baltimore’s smart; he’ll be able to lead them to safety, and he’ll find me later; he always does.” I say as I watch Baltimore shrink out of my sight, like a pied piper leading the animals.

Chapter Text

We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention.

We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica but still made me homesick.

We were looking for transport that could take us to New York. But in this heat, we’d just take a place to get out of the sun for a few minutes and find a sandwich and a glass of lemonade. We were walking for who knows how long when we found ourselves standing in front of a casino with a giant lotus above it.

I quickly pushed Rachel and Annabeth back behind the corner. Gladiola let out a surprised bark.

“What was that for?” Annabeth asked, sounding surprised and confused.

“You know the Lotus Island from the Odyssey? I think that Lotus Hotel is it.” I explain, and Annabeth and Rachel look at each other before peeking around the corner.

“Are you so sure?” Annabeth asks.

I peek back over the corner. “Look, no one is going in or out despite how amazing it looks; everyone needs to leave a vacation eventually, unless something’s keeping them in.” I say as I remember that I could get something that may be able to help us and my mom with finances. "I have a stupid idea.”

“How stupid?” Annabeth asks with her eyebrow raised.

“Can your hat turn objects invisible as well if placed on them like on your head?” I ask her.

“I mean, technically yes.”

“Can you put it on the end of this rope?”

She does and the rope vanishes, but I can still feel it. Good. I tie the rope around my waist super tight.

“Izzy, what are you doing?” Rachel asks as she watches me tie the invisible rope around myself.

“There’s something I need to check, there might be something useful in there.” I say as I finish my last knot, “If I’m not out in ten minutes pull the rope really hard until I’m out.”

“Be careful, ok?” Rachel tells me.

I nod, “See you guys soon.”

I begin walking to the hotel. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure.

When I got closer I saw the doorman who smiled at me. "Hey, kid. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?"

I knew what he really was, but I also wanted to check something. I walked inside and took a look around. The whole lobby was a giant game room. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine.

"Hey!" a bellhop said. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key."

I stammered, "Um, I..."

"No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, room 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your LotusCash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides."

He handed me a green plastic credit card with a lotus flower on it.

I took the card and said, "How much is on here?"

His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when does it run out of cash?"

He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay."

Score. I wanted to try it out, I wanted to have fun, but then I remembered my quest. I didn’t feel any tugging yet; that meant the ten minutes weren’t up. I passed a lot of people, all of whom looked like they belonged to different decades. I asked them all what year it was; none of them were the present year. This was without a doubt the Lotus Hotel from the books. I almost made it to the exit when I passed two kids with…electric blue eyes? I felt as though I knew them. I went to follow after them when I felt myself being pulled backwards really hard. The next thing I knew, I was yanked outside and landed on my back.

“Ow…” I said as I looked up, squinting. I saw Annabeth and Rachel looking down at me.

“We did what you said; we pulled really hard after ten minutes, and we didn’t see you.” Rachel said as she helped me up.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Annabeth asked me.

I showed her the Lotus Cash Card.

She looks confused. “You went in there for a casino card?”

I smile, “Not just any casino card. Come on, let’s find a taxi.”

This time it was my idea.

We loaded into the back of a Vegas taxi, and I told the driver, "To the nearest airport, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "Can you kids even pay?”

Rachel was about to pull out her credit card, but I stopped her.

"You accept casino debit cards?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Some of them. Same as credit cards. I have to swipe them through first."

I handed him my green Lotus Cash card.

He looked at it skeptically.

"Swipe it," I invited.

He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally, an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.

The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. I could tell Annabeth and Rachel’s jaws were on the floor too. The driver looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Uh, right away, Your Highness?"

Not gonna lie, I didn’t mind that, but since I'm apparently illegitimate, I'd probably never be called that ever again. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

I probably shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.

During the drive, we had time to talk. I told Annabeth and Rachel more about my dream with Luke.

“He really said, ‘The Crooked One?” Annabeth asked.

I nodded. “That’s what he called the voice from the pit. It wasn’t Hades…was it?”

“Who’s the Crooked One?” Rachel asked as she fed Gladiola some treats.

Annabeth was quiet for a moment. “It’s a nickname for the father of the gods, the titan of time: Kronos.”

Rachel knew who he was; while history was never her favorite, she started paying a lot more attention at camp. She asked Chiron a lot of questions; he was happy to oblige her curiosity.

“Why would Luke be talking to him, though? Isn’t he super evil?” Rachel asked, trying to make sense of it.

“Luke has held a grudge against the gods for a while now,” Annabeth says. “If the gods are divided and the bolt was given to Kronos, he could break out of Tartarus; he would take revenge on the gods and plunge the world into total chaos and destruction.” Annabeth says seriously.

Rachel sits there in shock, holding Gladiola tightly. I think Annabeth scared her.

“That’s why we have to get to Olympus quickly and warn the gods.” Annabeth says with determination.

Me and Rachel nodded in agreement.

We got to the airport in record time. I began reading the signs, trying to find where to buy tickets home.

“Are you sure about this? This is beyond dangerous. Don’t you remember what Chiron said about avoiding Zeus’ domain?” Annabeth asked me.

“I do, but you said it yourself: we need to warn the gods as quickly as possible. Let’s hope Zeus’ll cut me some slack.” I said as we walked toward ticket purchasing.

Rachel bought us three first-class tickets home on a non-stop flight.

I wanted to use my Lotus Card, but I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t get in trouble with security, so we decided to go with Rachel.

The best part, Baltimore made it back to me just as we were boarding the plane. Rachel wasn’t surprised; Annabeth was.

“How did he…?” Annabeth asked, as Rachel put a hand on her shoulder.

“I stopped questioning it a long time ago.” She said.

Despite myself saying we needed to get back as soon as possible, it was still hard to force myself on board the flight.

Even though we had first-class seats, takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a monster. Each time I kept wondering if Zeus would actually kill me. I didn't unclench my hands from the armrests until we touched down safely at La Guardia.

We split up at the taxi stand. I told Annabeth and Rachel to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened and to warn him. They protested, and it was hard to let them go after all we'd been through, but I knew I had to do this last part of the quest by myself. So much was different from Percy’s story; I don’t fully know what will happen next. If things went wrong, if the gods didn't believe me...I wanted Annabeth and Grover to survive to tell Chiron the truth. I also made a plan with them. Then, I hopped in a taxi with Baltimore and headed into Manhattan.

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.

I must have looked ridiculous. I went up to the guard at the front desk and said, "Six hundredth floor."

He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. The book must've been good, because the guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddo."

"I need an audience with Zeus." I bang my bag on the table open so he sees the bolt inside.

The guard looked inside at the metal bolt, then his face went pale.

“I don’t have an appointment.” I tell the guard, still staring in shock. “You want me take it out and—"

"No! No!" He scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, and then handed it to me.

"Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."

I did as he told me. As soon as the elevator doors closed, I slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared, and a new button appeared on the console, a red one that said 600.

I pressed it and waited, and waited.

Music played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head...."

Finally, ding. The doors slid open. I stepped out and almost had a heart attack.

I was standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below me was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of me, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. My eyes followed the stairway to its end, where my brain just could not accept what I saw.

Look again, my brain said.

We're looking, my eyes insisted. It's really there.

From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces—a city of mansions—all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rose bushes.

I could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome, and a coliseum on the other. It was an ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must've looked twenty-five hundred years ago.

My trip through Olympus was a daze. I passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at me from their garden. Hawkers in the market are trying to sell ambrosia-on-a-stick, shields, and a genuine glitter-weave replica of the Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV. The nine muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered—satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who might've been minor gods and goddesses. Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war.

In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch me pass and whispered to themselves.

I remember how the books said this place was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld. I wondered if I’d ever see it. I always thought how ridiculous it was that Hades was so outcasted by his own family, to not even have a throne here despite being one of the six who overthrew Kronos; even after all that, he still was not welcome. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel too bad for him; he’s the reason my life is so complicated.

I came to steps that led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

Room really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom closet. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.

Twelve thrones were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. The only difference was that I built a thirteenth cabin at Camp Half-Blood for myself, I got the feeling Hades wouldn’t be able to do that so easily here. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. I didn't have to be told who the two gods were that were sitting there, waiting for me to approach. I came toward them, my legs trembling. I could feel Baltimore’s shaking on my shoulder as well, he’s nervous too.

The gods were in giant human form; I could barely look at them without feeling a tingle, as if my body were starting to burn. Zeus, the king of Olympus, wore a dark blue pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray, as if hiding thunder behind them. As I got nearer to him, the air crackled and smelled of ozone. The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He reminded me of a beachcomber from Key West. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was black. His face had a brooding rebel look and his eyes, sea-green, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that told me he smiled a lot, too.

His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

They weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument.

I approached the thrones and bowed, scared as I was, I wasn’t going to kneel to the people who blamed and dragged children into their fights.

"Greetings, uncles, lord Zeus, lord Poseidon." I dared not look up. My heart was racing. I could feel the energy emanating from the two gods. If I said the wrong thing, I had no doubt they could blast me into dust. And since Poseidon isn’t my dad, and Hades isn’t here, I definitely can’t count on my safety being assured.

To my left, Zeus spoke. "You address the master of this house so familiarly, girl?"

I kept my head down and waited.

"Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. "The girl addressed you first, and I sensed no disrespect in her voice. That’s more than her father at least."

"Ah yes, her father, who refused to give us answers regarding this child whom he sired against our sacred oath?" Zeus asked menacingly.

"You know how Hades is; he would not so easily admit his wrongdoing," Poseidon said. "Now we should hear her speak."

Wrongdoing. A lump welled up in my throat. Was that all I was? A wrongdoing? The result of a god's mistake? Probably.

"I have spared her once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain...pah! I should have blasted her out of the sky for his impudence."

"And risk destroying your own master bolt?" Poseidon asked calmly. "Let us hear her out, brother."

Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast this girl down from Olympus."

"Address lord Zeus, girl," Poseidon told me. "Tell him your story."

So I told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. I took out the metal bolt, which began sparking in the Sky god's presence, and laid it at his feet. There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire. Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on my scalp rise.

"I sense the girl tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing...it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said. "It runs in the family."

"Um, lord?" I asked.

They both said, "Yes?"

"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else came up with the idea.” I took a deep breath before speaking again. "It was Kronos," I said. "In my dreams I hear his voice coming from a pit. The voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. He was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

The air got heavier. Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. I only caught one word. Father.

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily.

"We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."

He rose and looked at me. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, girl. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"Sir, please, there’s—“

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Isabell Mira. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live. Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation."

“Sir please! Kronos is gathering strength! You must listen! It wasn’t just Ares—“

“Girl!” Zeus shouted as lightning struck and thunder roared, “I know where Kronos is. I put him there. I know who Kronos is. I am his son. Of course, he’s gathering strength. Of course, he’s coming. That is what we do. We snap and plot and strive. It was only a matter of time before he did it again. Did you honestly think you could tell me what to do?”

I honestly don’t care how angry he is; I’m angry too. Did I actually think he would be any different from the books?

“I thought you would listen, both of you!” I say to Zeus and Poseidon. “You brothers constantly fight amongst each other and drag children into them! If you are not united now, when Kronos is returning, he will destroy everything! Including you!”

I see Zeus get angry; I see Poseidon look away. Zeus’ bolt charges with electricity, and I see him move to strike me with it. I cover my head with my arms. But then darkness covers the entire room as I hear something stop Zeus, and I hear a familiar voice, the one from my sleep that told me to wake up and sent me the dreams about the bolt and the helm, shout, “Enough!”

I look up and see a third god, holding Zeus’ arm, keeping him from striking. I look at Poseidon and Zeus’ expressions; they both seem shocked, stunned almost. I can only see the third god’s back; he’s wearing the clothes you’d expect someone of royalty to wear in Ancient Greece, but in black. His skin is whiter than the albino lion I saw earlier, and his long, shoulder-length hair is black as night. I know without a doubt who that is, and I am the most shocked out of everyone here to see him.

We are all frozen. At least until Zeus pulls his arm back, “How dare you! You have the audacity to be here! After everything that has happened! After siring that mistake and breaking our oath!” Zeus says angrily, but Hades does not move or falter; instead, he speaks in a more controlled tone, but no less angry than Zeus’.

“How dare I? How dare you. Both of you.”

He says, looking over at Poseidon before looking back at Zeus, “You have no right to bring up that pointless oath, not after you broke it immediately after it was made. And you would dare attempt this again?” He asks his brother, who says nothing in response.

Hades then turns to Poseidon, not letting him slip out of it, “And you, you would do the same again? You would do nothing but turn away as Zeus would strike her down after dragging her into this fight?”

Poseidon looks almost apologetic, or remorseful, as if he’s remembered something from the past, but he also looks a bit upset at Hades as well.

Zeus clenches his teeth in anger but turns away dramatically, ”I’ve had enough of this. I better not see either of you when I return.”

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.

“I shall take my leave as well. Goodbye, brother.” Poseidon says as he lifts his trident. Water comes from nowhere. With a loud wave crash, Poseidon was gone as well.

I was alone in the throne room with Hades, who finally turned around to face me. I didn’t know what expression he’d have on his face, but gentle was not one of them. We made eye contact. I saw his eyes; they were mine. I’ve been told my eyes are so dark that my pupils can’t be seen, and his eyes are just like mine.

"Your uncles have always had a flair for dramatics. I think they would've done well as the gods of theater." He tells me softly.

I don't say anything in response, but I know my expression is flat at best, probably a bit of a scowl as well.

An uncomfortable silence passes before he sighs, then shimmers in shadow and becomes the size of a tall man in front of me. “I assume you have many questions. I will do my best to answer them, but not here. You heard Zeus; if we’re here when he returns, he’ll throw another tantrum.”

Shadows wrap around us. I know what this is, Shadow Travel, but much more powerful than mine. Within the blink of an eye, we’re gone.

Chapter Text

I turn to walk around in the shadow tunnel, and next thing I know, I’m standing in front of my favorite restaurant: Cheesecake Factory.

“You like this place, do you not?” I hear Hades ask me.

I turn towards him and see he’s now wearing a black tux. He looks like he's about to head to a meeting of mafia family heads to rat out traitors.

“I do.” I answer simply, we make our way inside and are seated in a booth; a waitress gives us water and bread. I was about to look at the menu, but Hades gave the waitress my order. He ordered my favorite meal there for me, steak medallions.

How did he know that? It was…thoughtful. Creepy as heck how he knew that, though. I also just realized this is the second time something like this has happened, dang.

If I had a nickel for every time an immortal bought me a meal, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice.

“Ask your questions, child.” Hades tells me with his fingers interlaced and on the table.

I hesitated, not knowing where to start. So I decided to ask something from the beginning.

“How was I born?” I ask as I stare at Hades, “I’m not talking on the biological level; I know where babies come from. I’m wondering how you got with my mother. She was already married when she was pregnant with me, and she’s not the type of person to have affairs.”

“No, she is not.” Hades says gently. He sighed before looking at me. He pulled a picture out of his tux and laid it on the table.

I could feel my breath stop for a moment; it was my mother, but it wasn’t. The photo was colorless and looked just as old as my grandpa. The woman in the photo was not my mother, but the similarity was terrifying.

“This is Francesca Russo,” he tells me, "just before the oath between me and my brothers was made, she gave birth to my son. I knew that because of the oath, he would probably be my last demigod child.” He tells me, with a sad look in his eyes.

I can tell he cared about them and that this story doesn’t have a happy ending.

“I wanted to send them away somewhere safe, somewhere away from Zeus. I made the mistake of trusting Poseidon.” His hands tighten around each other. “I told Poseidon about my son. I asked him if he would allow him and his mother's family safe passage across his domain to safety. That was my mistake; he told Zeus about them, and then…he killed them.” He told me, looking down.

This is again different from the story; Hades didn’t have a lover called Francesca or an infant son who were killed in the books, at least not that I knew of.

“I was very angry after that; my rage only grew when I found out that hypocrite Zeus had broken the ridiculous oath after it was made and sired not one, but two children in secret.” I can see his scowl grow. I remember what Grover told me, how Zeus had broken the oath immediately after it was made; no wonder Hades was upset. I couldn’t help but wonder if Hades took revenge on the children.

“What did you do when you found out?” I asked him.

“I confronted him about it, of course, at the next Winter Solstice.” He says with a slightly sinister smile, “Oh, the uproar it caused in Olympus, and the trouble it got Zeus in—Hera had not been that furious in years.” His expression then softened, and he continued, “Many years passed after that; I could not forget about Francesca, not when she was taken from me so suddenly. Then, I met your mother.” He says, looking at me gently, “I was tending to some business in the mortal world when I saw her. I thought Francesca had been reborn. I tried to approach her, but she refused me. I saw her go to her husband and watched as she left.”

“But you didn’t let her go.” I said.

“No, I did not.” He says, almost looking regretful, “That night, I took the form of her husband to be with her; she didn’t notice. I knew she wasn’t Francesca, but being with her brought me closure. She moved away not long after, and I didn’t look for her.”

So that’s why I was born? Because my mom looked like his past lover?

“My intention was not to have a child when I approached your mother.” He tells me.

“So I really am nothing more than a mistake, figures.” I say as I butter some of the brown bread and take a big bite.

“You may have been born without intention, but I do not regret your existence.” I stop chewing and meet his eyes. “However, I do regret the fate I have bestowed upon you for being my child, and for that I am sorry.”

I swallow, unsure of what to say; this is completely different from how Percy’s conversation with his dad went. Baltimore eats some of the bread on my plate.

“What do you mean?” I bring myself to ask.

“All of my demigod children have not been accepted in their lives and were cast out by their own kind. I have brought you something worse than a hero's fate, and a hero's fate is never happy. It is never anything but tragic.” He tells me sadly, and it adds up.

I never had many friends growing up, and a lot of people at Camp Half-Blood did treat me like I had the plague when I got claimed, but…not all of them.

“At the very least, with your quest being successful, I hope you will find some acceptance and happiness.” He says sincerely, with an almost smile on his face.

I don’t know what to say. He wants me to be happy? Did he even know about me? I fidget with my ring under the table.

My food is brought to the table, and I hesitate whether or not to eat it.

“Eat,” Hades tells me, “we can still talk.”

I begin cutting up my food; I give a small piece to Baltimore. I don’t know what the rules are for raven diets, but Baltimore has broken every single one of them. He can eat anything, and nothing has killed him yet, not even chocolate! That was a terrifying run to the vet. I take a bit of my food before asking another question.

“Did you really not know about me?” I asked as I watched Baltimore tear apart his piece of steak. Hades watches as well for a moment before answering.

“I did not; I only sensed you after the earthquake some months ago.” He tells me.

“Why did you have Alecto watch me?” He looks at me; for a moment I thought I saw something like pride. “Alecto told me how you felt her watching you. I sent her to protect you.”

“From what?”

“Monsters, even though you did not know what you were at the time, your powers had awoken; it was only a matter of time till you discovered what you really were.” He glanced at Baltimore again. “I’m glad he’s still with you.”

I freeze. I turn to face Baltimore, who freezes when we make eye contact, then his eyes look elsewhere; he’s doing what he does when he knows I’ve caught him: “You little…”

“Do not be angry,” I hear Hades tell me, “I sent him to you in hopes he would make you feel better, but any loyalty or feelings he has towards you are his own. I may have influenced his path, but I did not influence his mind.”

I look back at Baltimore; he’s looking sad. Well, he did help me feel better, and he has always had my back. If it was only because Hades commanded him to, then I’d be mad. I ruffle some of his chest feathers, “You’re lucky I love you, you little turd.”

Baltimore immediately perks up, lets out a happy sound, gets on my shoulder, and starts affectionately rubbing his head against the side of mine.

Just then, a man who looks to be the manager comes over, “Excuse me, miss, but birds aren’t allowed in here.”

“Don’t worry, he’s already flying away, see?” I point up and shove Baltimore under the table. I really wished the guy could at least see a shadow or something else to make him think Baltimore actually left.

Suddenly, the guy screamed.

I turned around and saw the guy swatting at something invisible before turning around as if he were watching whatever he was hitting at leave. He turns to face me and looks like he’s about to kick me out, but then I feel the air get cold. I looked over to Hades; his death stare made my teacher’s scholding faces look like pouting babies. The man probably thought Hades was in the mafia; he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. He apologized for disturbing us before running away. When he was out of sight, the air became less cold.

“Was that you?” I asked him.

“Getting him to leave? Yes, that was me, that illusion with the mist. No, that was you.” He says it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“What?” I say, very confused. Hades then looks at me like he’s confused.

“You manipulated the mist; did you not realize what you were doing?” Hades asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I manipulated the mist?”

Hades seemed to realize I had no idea what he was talking about. “Earlier, when that man wanted your bird to leave, did you want him to see something else?”

“Yeah…I wanted him to see something that would make him think Baltimore left.”

“Did you want it badly?”

“I mean…yeah? It’s not like I need Baltimore attached to me at all times; I just prefer having him there. He’s kinda my unofficial support raven.” I explain to Hades, who probably knows this since he’s had Alecto watching me for a while.

Hades brings his hand to his chin, as if contemplating something. “It would seem, then, that you have been subconsciously manipulating it. Were there other times things like this happened? Where you wished others to see or not see something?”

I thought about it, and yeah, it has happened. All those times Percy got noticed in the books and appeared on the news, it didn’t happen to me. All the times it did, I was thinking about how badly I wanted no one to see us.

“What does that mean?” I ask him.

“It means, simply put, you may be able to use magic.” He tells me.

“R-Really?” I say excitedly but quickly try to shove it down. I always thought magic was the most handy skill to have in the books; it’s the most versatile. I’m pretty sure Hades noticed my excitement, but he decided to change topics when he saw me fidget with my ring.

“I trust that it has been useful.” He says, glancing at my ring.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It has been. I’m definitely going to need a lot of training with it.” I say as I stop fidgeting for a moment, “Thanks for it, but I was confused about one thing: why a boomerang?”

“I beg your pardon?” He blinks, sounding almost perplexed. I switch my ring to the twelfth Roman numeral and show Hades the Stygian boomerang; he looks absolutely dumbfounded, then realization seems to set in.

“Oh dear…” he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply, muttering a brief curse about skeletons before continuing, “the twelfth form was supposed to be a crossbow, not a…boomerang, as you put it.”

I laugh; I know I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. The god of the underworld just looked so surprised at seeing one of the most dangerous metals in the form of a boomerang! I try my best to stop laughing; luckily, he doesn’t seem too mad at me.

“So, am I right to assume that you were the one who furnished and decorated my cabin?” I asked, trying to stop myself from laughing.

“Yes.” He admits.

“Why? Not that I’m complaining, it was even better in real life than the designs.”

Hades seemed almost happy at that. “You built an entire cabin on your own; adding some furnishings to make it so my only demigod child had a comfortable living space was simple. It is something…a parent should do.”

I freeze at that. Is that something a parent should do? Is he saying he wants to be my dad? After what he did to my mom and not being there for 13 years. I fidget my ring faster under the table, so hard I think I might break it.

“You are angry," he states calmly. "Why?”

Why? I feel even angrier than when I first met Ares. I take a deep breath before answering, or else I might say something that will definitely get me killed.

“Please forgive me,” I say with my eyes closed. I’m doing my best to control my tone so I don’t lash out. “I have…very mixed emotions when it comes to you. On the one hand, you are nothing like how everyone has described you. You sent Alecto to protect me, gave me gifts, and are here now conversing and giving me answers.” I pause, keeping my head down, clenching my fists. I take another deep breath and, this time, look Hades in the eyes. “On the other hand, you have admitted to doing something terrible to my mother without her knowledge and left her, in doing so deceiving her husband into raising a child that wasn’t even his. You didn’t even know I existed until one of the worst days of my life. The one relief I have in knowing you were only with my mother once means that at least one of her children came from her husband that she loved. I am angry for my mom and for my dad, who raised me with nothing but sincerity and love.”

We sat there in uncomfortable silence. I half expected him to yell at me or strike me down the way Zeus intended to, but he didn’t.

He just looked at me with an unreadable expression. I got sick of the silence, so I brought up the king of the titans: “What will you do about Kronos?”

Hades drifted away, as if remembering something from long ago. Finally, he spoke, "In the First War, Izzy, Zeus cut our father Kronos into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had done to his own father, Ouranos. Zeus cast Kronos's remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The Titan army was scattered, their mountain fortress on Etna destroyed, and their monstrous allies driven to the farthest corners of the earth. And yet Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can. Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive in some hideous way, still conscious in his eternal pain, still hungering for power."

"He's healing," I said. "He's coming back.”

Hades looked at me; he seems to be taking me seriously. No, not me. But the risk of his father returning—that is what he is taking seriously.

I put my silverware down on my finished plate and wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Thank you for your time, and not to be rude, but I have a thief to confront.” I move to get up and leave, but Hades stops me with a question.

“Do you hate me?”

The question stuns me, and his neutrality makes me angry for some reason. Do I hate him?

“I hate what you did to my mother.” My fists clench again, nails digging into my skin. “I hate that you used her the way you did, I hate that you deceived her, and I hate that you left her to raise me thinking I was her husband's.” I look Hades dead in the eyes when something crosses my mind: “Speaking of which, you owe my mom thirteen years worth of child support!” I say, leaning forward towards him, and he blinks, looking almost taken aback by my sudden outburst, “Do you know what kind of kid I am? No. I’m a terrible one. I’m needy, selfish, greedy, whiny, annoying, lazy, and messy, and I’m without a doubt a major source of stress! And my mom still poured herself into raising me. I’m the worst kind of kid, and my mom had to put up with that for thirteen years!” I say to him, he’s all but stunned; I guess child support is a shock to gods too.

I realize everything I said; I don’t feel scared like I did with Zeus, I feel embarrassed. I can’t believe I said all that, and to someone who probably doesn’t even care. I just talked to him like he was a parent I could speak my mind to—how stupid!

I feel my cheeks getting hotter. “I should leave now,” I say awkwardly as I look away. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

I quickly took five steps away when he called, "Izzy."

I turned slightly, not wanting him to fully see my embarrassed face. I didn’t see much of his face, but from what I could see, I thought I saw him barely smile, and the purple light in his eyes almost had a sense of pride in them. “You did well. Whatever else you do, know that I am proud of you."

I walked out of the restaurant in a trance, only snapping out of it when Baltimore lightly pecked my cheek in concern.

I caught a taxi and took it as close to camp as I could get, and when I returned, Rachel was the first to tackle me to the ground in a hug.

It was good to be back.

Chapter Text

We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest.

Luke was there too, good; looks like the plan is still in motion.

According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls—I told her it seemed a shame to burn it. To which she told me it was simply part of the tradition, but even I could tell she didn’t want to really burn it all that much.

Being claimed by Hades, I didn't have any cabin mates. So the Ares's cabin decided to make me one, and by that I mean they took an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER was painted really big in the middle. Sorry, Hades, looks like it'll still be a while before I’m accepted. But I also wasn’t going to let that slide. I grabbed a Sharpie and crossed out LOSER. I definitely wasn’t going to be called that when I won against Ares. The stupid thing was fun to burn.

Rachel’s shroud was actually made by Grover (and a few other satyrs); you should’ve seen their red faces when Grover gave it to her. It was nature-y and colorful; I could tell Rachel really didn’t want to burn it.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Rachel and I were surrounded by our old Hermes cabin mates, Annabeth's siblings from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license Grover received from the Council of Cloven Elders.

The council had admitted that Grover's choice to save Rachel, a mortal whose help was invaluable to the quest, was the correct one.

The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive me for disgracing their dad.

But that was okay with me.

Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get herself killed, and now she'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...."

I told Chiron that I couldn’t stay the rest of the summer, how my mom thought I was still on vacation with Rachel, and that I’d have to go back home first if I ever wanted to come here. I asked him if he’d come with me to explain to my mom why I’d be spending my foreseeable summers at a camp that doesn’t legally exist. He agreed and said we’d leave tomorrow, loud enough for everyone to hear.

While we were cleaning up, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers, but while we were gone, he seemed to have matured a bit. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human.

"I heard you’re leaving tomorrow, so I decided to tell you I'm off," he said. "I just came to say...well, you know."

I was happy for him but also scared for him because of the books. I told him to keep his distance when following any trails; maybe that’ll help him not get in trouble.

Annabeth gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on.

I asked him where he was going to search first.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan..."

"We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?"

"Yeah."

"And you remembered your reed pipes?"

"Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat."

But he didn't really sound annoyed.

Then he turned to face Rachel, who had been uncharacteristically silent the whole time. I could tell she was trying her best to feel happy for him. But I could see the tears in her eyes. Saying goodbye is always hard, especially for Rachel.

Annabeth and I took a few steps back so the two of them could have a moment, but I was eavesdropping the whole time, and Annabeth was asking me what they were talking about every five seconds.

“You said you’re going to be the first searcher to come back alive, so if you die out there, I’m going to kill you!” Rachel says, getting close to Grover with her finger pointed. Grover looks shocked but not scared; he smiles and pulls Rachel into a hug, and she hugs him back.

“What are they saying?” Annabeth whisper-asked again.

“Nothing, they’re just hugging right now—-w-w-wait shh! I think they’re talking again!” I whisper back.

Rachel pulled back from the hug and gave Grover a kiss on the cheek, dangerously close to his lips. They were both very red in the face. “I mean it, Grover, you better not die on me! And when you get back, we’re going on a real date!”

Grover. exe has stopped working; he’s sputtering like he’s on the fritz from overheating.

“I—Uh—us—wait—we—?” He barely manages to stutter.

“Do you not want to?” Rachel asks, a bit scared; she’s really putting herself out there.

“N-No! I mean—yes! Yes, I do!” Grover, he says, panicking as he tries to find the right words.

If I thought the two of them were red before, they were on fire now.

“Well then, you better get a move on and come back as fast as possible!” Rachel tells him.

“R-right! See you soon!” Grover responds.

He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway.

"Well," he said, passing me and Annabeth, "wish me luck."

"Hey, Grover," I called.

He turned at the edge of the woods.

"Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas." Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

Tears were straight up falling down Rachel’s face; I pulled her into a hug.

"We'll see him again," Annabeth said.

I knew we (hopefully) would. Grover would be the first searcher to return. He had to be.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Rachel and I packed some stuff to go back to my mom’s when Annabeth walked in, looking serious.

“Hey,” she said, “we’re really doing this?”

“Yeah,” I said. "It has to be now."

Annabeth took a sad, deep breath, donned her magic Yankees hat, and disappeared.

I was about to leave my cabin to find him, but when I got to the door, he was already there with his regular charming smile.

“Hey Izzy,” Luke said, “I heard you’re leaving early."

I nodded, a bit shocked to see him here.

He gave me another smile. "Listen, I wanted to ask you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time and look for something to fight before you leave?"

I knew what would happen next; I kept my hand on my fidget ring. “Sure.”

He turned to Rachel. "Mind if I borrow her for a bit?”

“Uh-sure.” She says, We really have to work on Rachel’s poker face. Gladiola was growling too.

We walked down to the woods and kicked around for some kind of monster to fight, but it was too hot. I glanced at the sky once in a while, I told Baltimore to stay away, but I'm not sure he listened.

While we were walking, Luke brought up my celebration: “Talk about a celebration. They really pulled out all the stops for you.”

I nodded.

“Come on, you’ve said, like, two words since we left the cabins.” He says, tapping my shoulder.

“Just thinking about what the Oracle said.”

He turned around and faced me. “Prophecies, those things are so vague—“

“The quest is over,” I cut him off, “and everything the oracle has said has come true or makes sense."

“Has it?” He asked with a tilted head.

“You shall go west and face the god who has turned,”

“Ares, ok.”

“Find what was stolen and see it returned,”

“Clearly the bolt,” he says obviously.

I pause before saying the next part. “And you shall be betrayed,” I say, taking the slightest step back, “by one who calls you a friend.”

Luke stares at me.

“When I beat Ares, I made him swear on the River Styx to tell me who the real thief was. Hades wasn’t the thief, Ares wasn’t the thief, you were.” I say seriously. “You worked with Ares to plant the bolt on me, then, if I went to the underworld, and if I was wearing the shoes you gave me, they would’ve dragged me down the pit I saw in my dreams; the bolt would’ve been delivered right to Kronos.”

Luke just continued to stare at me. “I didn’t know you knew the shoes were cursed.”

I took another step back, and he spoke again.

“I am your friend,” Luke said gently. “Izzy, none of this was meant to betray you.” He says as he shakes his head, “The gods are my enemy, you,” he says, taking a step closer, “I’m here to recruit.” He takes another step closer to me.

“Recruit?” I ask confusedly, this wasn’t what happened in the books.

He takes a step back and pulls out a sword; I quickly uncap Riptide and keep my grip firm.

“Easy,” Luke says with an arm out, “I don’t want to fight. This is what I wanted to show you.” He says with a smile as he stands up straight. “This,” he says to the sword, “is our way out.”

“Way out of what?” I ask.

He turns around and points his sword towards the edge of the camp’s borders. “Camp,” he says, then drags his sword down, opening a tear in the camp’s protective barrier, “and out of their control.” He says, turning back to me, “Backbiter can open secret doors; we can stay on the run as long as it takes.”

“Stop saying ‘we.” I say to him, a bit shaken.

“It’s the word Zeus fears the most. the gods want us to fight for them and fear them, and they couldn’t care less about what we want or what happens to us.” He tells me angrily. “They’re bad parents, Izzy. And they’ve gotten away with it for far too long.”

“No, no, Luke. You are right, but this is the wrong way to do it. This is Kronos; he got to you.” I plead with him.

“No, he opened my eyes to the truth.” He takes a step closer.

I feel the tears in my eyes, the last line of the prophecy: you will fail to change what matters most.

“The golden age, that’s what they called it when he ruled. We’re going to help Kronos bring the golden age back. Stealing the bolt and the helm was easy. Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they'd discovered my theft." He confesses to me.

"But you didn’t bring the items to Kronos.”

Luke's expression wavered. "I...I got overconfident. Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt— Artemis, Apollo, my father, and Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn't careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, and threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Kronos's voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares's head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone noticed my absence." Luke looked at his sword. "Afterward, the lord of the Titans ... h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way—from Ares down to Tartarus."

“You summoned Princeton that night in the forest.”

"We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn't safe for you; we didn’t think you’d be able to control him, but the plan still worked."

“Luke, please don’t do this.” I pleaded, “Think about Annabeth, Thalia! She gave her life to save you. You think this is what she’d want?”

"Don't speak of Thalia!" he shouted. "The gods let her die! That's one of the many things they will pay for."

"You're being used, Luke. Please. Don't listen to Kronos." I beg him.

"I've been used?" Luke's voice turned shrill. "Look at yourself. What have the gods ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. We’ve already begun our next. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

He turns to make another cut in the barrier. I quickly move and use Riptide to push away his sword and him back. “Luke, please, this won’t change anything. But we can change what we do. I built my own cabin; I can build others. Please, Luke.”

“No matter how many cabins you build, it won’t make the gods better.” He says, his sword pointed at mine.

He strikes at me, I block, he strikes again, I dodge and push back. He catches my arm.

“You did get better.” He tells me.

“Yeah, you taught me.” I pull back to strike, but Luke turns me around and slashes the barrier again, making a giant hole. I turn around and see the hole. Luke kicks me towards it, sword pointed at me.

“Last chance.” He says.

I jump forward at him and push him back, our swords clash, I dodge his blade, get close, and cut under his left arm while it was still up and about to strike down at me.

He takes a few steps back and screams in pain as he holds his arm.

I froze, and the word spilled out automatically, "S-sorry!"

But Luke didn't freeze; he took advantage of my hesitation and kicked me down. As soon as my back hit the ground, his blade immediately slashed at me, so fast I barely rolled away in time to avoid being cut in half, but not fast enough to entirely avoid the blade. Backbiter had managed to slice the small of my back.

I screamed; it was only one slash and not that deep, but it felt as though I had been cut twice, deeply each time.

Then the next time I looked up through my pained, tear-filled eyes, I saw Luke standing above me, blade in hand. He’s about to take the final strike when we hear the sound of a raven, my raven. It’s Baltimore. We both look up, and then, out of nowhere, a knife comes flying at Luke; he manages to deflect it. We both snap our heads to where the knife came from, and we look to see Annabeth removing her hat. She’s here just in time.

“Annabeth?” Luke calls.

We watch as she draws her sword, ready to fight.

"I heard everything." Annabeth said slowly. Disappointment and sorrow covering her voice.

Luke looks heartbroken; he turns around suddenly, and we hear Princeton running towards us, growling, and someone else's footsteps approaching as well: Chiron. Luke looks at me one last time, then runs to the hole he made in the barrier—Princeton hot on his heels—and jumps through the hole that closes right behind him, causing Princeton to bang himself hard against the barrier. He recoils and shakes his head, then proceeds to bark angrily at the spot where Luke had escaped, like a dog barking at a squirrel through a window while Annabeth helps me up.

Chiron joined us seconds after Princeton.

The plan I made didn’t go exactly according to plan, but at least I’m still alive. This was so different from what I was expecting; the plan was to have Chiron and Annabeth step in, save me from the scorpion, and catch Luke.

But Luke never even tried to use the scorpion to kill me; he tried to recruit me.

Chiron notices that I’m bleeding, and we quickly go back to the infirmary to treat the injury on my back.

I’m sipping on nectar as I feel the wound closing. The wound was—luckily—not deep enough to cause permanent damage, but it’s going to leave a scar. I can never wear a swimsuit ever again, especially in front of my mom.

Baltimore was on my shoulder, and Gladiola was on Rachel’s lap, sitting next to me on the infirmary bed.

I look at Chiron. “Chiron...your prophecy from the Oracle...it was about Kronos, wasn't it?”

Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Izzy, it isn't my place—"

"You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?"

His eyes were sympathetic but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..."

Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

"All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!" He sighed in frustration.

“Chiron, can you tell Olympus about Luke and that there are others as well?" I ask, "Zeus dismissed me before I could tell him.”

“It will be reported to Olympus immediately.” He reassured me, “Do you still intend to leave Camp Izzy?”

“I have to, remember? My mom doesn’t know anything about me or this place. Hades confirmed it, so we’re going to have to tell her something so I can keep coming back here.” I remind Chiron, who nods.

“Very well then, if you’re feeling up to it, we will leave when you’re ready.”

Rachel and I went back to the cabin to grab our bags and anything else we might need.

Hopefully we’ll be back soon.

We made our way out of the cabin, and before we left, I said goodbye to Princeton, who was sad he couldn’t come with.

“Sorry, buddy, you’re too big to come along. Plus, my mom’s allergic to dogs. You look after yourself and the camp while I’m gone, ok? I’ll be back before you know it.” I say as I scratch him behind the ears and adjust his collar.

Oh right, I made Princeton a collar out of the magic scarf with love magic; maybe it’ll make him seem less terrifying to the campers.

He nuzzles me goodbye, and I watch as he saunters away into the woods.

Word spread about Luke’s betrayal quickly; some campers had mysteriously disappeared as well, like Ethan Nakamura, which really wasn't a good sign.

I couldn’t change what Luke would do; would I be able to change anything?

We passed Annabeth on our way out.

“You’re really going?" Annabeth asked me.

"Don’t worry, it’s just to talk to my mom, and we’ll be back before you know it." I say with a smile.

“I’m not worried,” Annabeth says. I see her ears turn a bit red. “I wrote to my dad, by the way.”

“Really?” I and Rachel asked in unison.

“Yeah, I’m going to try and give it another shot.” She says, crossing her arms slowly.

"Congratulations!" Rachel beamed.

“That’s really brave of you,” I tell her.

“All I did was write a letter; I’m not even sure he’ll respond.”

“He’ll respond.” I say confidently, with a smile, and Annabeth smiles back, with a bit of hope in her eyes.

“Oh! Right, I made these for us!” Rachel says excitedly as she shuffles in her bag; out she pulls three string bracelets, each made of 3 different colors: green, grey, and purple.

“What are these?” Annabeth asked.

“They’re friendship bracelets, duh!” Rachel states, “I made them last night to commemorate our first quest together!”

She hands one to me and Annabeth each before putting the last one on her wrist. I do the same, and we watch Annabeth expectantly, waiting for her to put on hers.

She stares at the bracelet, then at us, “Really?” She asks, but not in a sarcastic way, more like she’s asking for permission, assurance.

I smile at her, “Really?”

She puts the bracelet on and plays it cool; she says she’ll see us when we get back and not to do anything stupid while we’re gone. She began to walk away when Rachel and I shared a telepathic moment again and a mischievous smile; we both shouted, “See ya later, wise girl!” Annabeth turned around immediately, red in the face, making me and Rachel laugh.

I thought she would say we were being stupid, but instead she yelled back, “Don’t die while you’re gone, zombie brain and hairbrush ninja!” She then turns away, and we see her walk away a bit quickly. Rachel and I laugh again as we head out.

We got in Argus’ car, Baltimore on my lap and Gladiola on Rachel’s, Chiron in the passenger's seat in his human form with his wheelchair, and headed back to my mom.