Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Annabeth was tired. 

She’d gone into this whole thing thinking she was more than ready. She’d spent basically her whole life training to fight monsters and go on quests and save the world, after all. She was sure she could do this. Unfortunately, what they don’t tell you is that no amount of summer camp can really prepare you for a months-long quest, even if your ride was ‘the baddest, most luxurious bitch in the sky.’ No, she was getting to learn that lesson first hand now that it was nearly three in the morning and she was working on hour twenty of no sleep, and she could confidently say that she was tired. 

It had been four days since they’d left Rome, and she’d been dedicating everything she had to keeping the Argo II and her crew airborne while also trying to decipher the magical mess of gears and wires that Leo had managed to install in the ship’s control panel. Frank and Hazel had explained that it was an Archimedes Sphere, and in the short time Leo had gotten to fiddle with it, he’d been able to make it do basically whatever he wanted. Annabeth hadn’t had nearly that level of luck, though she liked to think she was making some progress. She’d tried praying to Hephaestus and Vulcan both for guidance and got exactly zero help from either side. She figured that was likely because the god didn’t really feel inclined to help the demigod who was the reason his son was in Tartarus. She could picture Hephaestus with his perpetually smouldering beard and his scowling expression saying something like, I gave you an answer for this puzzle, and you went and threw him in a pit. You’re on your own.

But right now, she was mostly tired of having rocks thrown at her.

“That’s the third time!” she shouted, leaning over the railing and shaking her fist at the mountains below. A giant man with a crazy beard, wearing a fluttering white toga shook his fist back at her. “Quit breaking the fucking mast!”

In response, he just chucked another boulder. 

The ourae were an annoying bunch, dead set on making life as difficult as possible for Annabeth and her crew. Getting to Epirus was supposed to be the easy part. All they had to do was cross one measly little mountain range and they should have been home free. Unfortunately, Gaea, mother of the year, apparently had yet another set of kids, and these ones were more than happy to do mommy dearest a favor and keep the Argo II from crossing said mountain range through any and all means. Annabeth jerked the red JoyCon in her hand hard to the side to avoid the incoming attack, flicked the blue one like she was casting a fishing pole to fire a volley of cannon balls in response, then flipped the mountain god off for good measure. She didn’t really think that the last bit would help much, but it certainly made her feel better. 

As the boulder sailed overhead, she whirled around on her heel, fists clenched at her sides, just in time to see Hazel helping Nico up from the mess of canvas and rigging he’d been buried under when the mast collapsed. “This is all our fault,” Hazel fretted. “Mine ‘n’ Nico’s. We’re children of the Underworld, so they can sense us.”

For the briefest moment, the least helpful part of Annabeth’s mind, the one that thought it was a good idea to flip off mountain gods, wanted to suggest tossing the both of them overboard, in that case, but she refrained. Hazel had been the last person to speak with Piper and Leo, aside from Jason, and Annabeth knew she’d been a mess over the whole thing since. Every last person on the ship, Annabeth included, had found a way to blame themselves for Piper and Leo’s fall, but Hazel was taking it particularly bad. The thought of making the poor girl feel worse made Annabeth’s stomach tie itself in knots, even if she only meant it as a joke. So, instead she squeezed Hazel’s bicep and gave her a gentle smile. “It’s not just you, Hazel. We’ve got Percy and Jason on board, too, plus Frank’s ties to Poseidon. This boat smells like a traveling demigod buffet, I can assure you.” Hazel giggled softly, and Annabeth’s smile widened. “Besides, even if they were just hunting down you and you alone, I’d still want you around. We’d have been shot out of the sky a dozen times by now, if not for your warnings.”

Hazel opened her mouth to reply, but instead her eyes widened and she shouted, “Veer left!” Annabeth instantly did as she was told, and the ship narrowly avoided yet another projectile. She arched her eyebrows at Hazel as if to say, See? Told you so.

“We need to get out of here,” Nico said quietly. “We’re never going to make it anywhere in one piece at this rate.”

Annabeth begrudgingly agreed, and returned to the ship’s wheel to steer them away from the mountains. They were retreating north west again, just like they’d been doing for the past three days, and Annabeth was, well, tired of it. With their new course set, she returned to Nico and Hazel. “We need a new plan.”

“Should I go wake the others?” Hazel offered. Annabeth considered that, then shook her head. Her mind drifted down below decks to her cabin where she’d left Percy curled up and snoring on her bed. Even in sleep, he still wore the deep creases of exhaustion between his furrowed brows. He needed every moment of rest that could be afforded to him, and she doubted Jason and Frank were in much better shape. 

“Is there a pass in the mountains farther north?” Nico suggested. “Somewhere we could sail through without being in range of the ourae?”

Annabeth pursed her lips, pulled out the Archimedes Sphere, and started fiddling with it. Fortunately, it behaved this time around, and a holographic 3D map of Italy and the mountains they were fruitlessly trying to cross flickered to life before them. “I don’t see anywhere like that,” she said, slowly walking her fingers along the projection as it rotated under her. “See, this is where we tried to cross the day before yesterday, and that’s the biggest gap I can see.”

“What if we went by sea?” Hazel piped up.

Annabeth personally wanted to agree. She felt much more confident when they were on the water and she knew Percy was there to, well, be Percy and all that entailed. 

Unfortunately, Nico vetoed the idea. “We can’t. If we’d been retreating south this whole time, maybe, but it would take too long for us to go all the way around the end of Italy at this point. We need to make sure we’re waiting for Piper and Leo in Epirus. If they have to spend any more time in Tartarus than they have to, well…”

Nico didn’t have to finish. It wasn’t exactly a secret that nobody had Piper and Leo as their top picks for “Most Likely to Succeed – Tartarus Edition.” Considering Jason was currently in possession of Katoptris, Annabeth was pretty sure the only weapons they had were Leo’s fire powers and Piper’s Horn of Plenty. According to Nico, he couldn’t sense their souls (though he admitted that he wasn’t entirely sure if he even could sense if they’d died, all things considered) but nobody was all that interested in testing to see if that would change. 

“I suppose we could try camouflage?” Annabeth said, though her tone was thick with doubt. They were carrying four children of the Big Three, a legacy of Poseidon, and the Athena Parthenos. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Hazel that every monster on the planet could smell them. She was pretty sure that even Percy’s horrible dead ex-step-father, Smelly Gabe, wouldn’t be able to mask them with his stench. 

Nico narrowed his eyes. “I could maybe–”

“You are not shadow traveling anywhere,” Annabeth cut in firmly. Nico scowled at her, but she just scowled right back at him. “There’s no way you would be able to make that jump with the whole ship. Right now, you don’t even look like you could make it by yourself. You’re not allowed to kill yourself for a plan that wouldn’t even work.”

“Am I allowed to kill myself for a plan that would work?”

“No.”

Hazel was quiet, her eyes shut and her head bowed slightly, as if in prayer, and Annabeth cut her gaze away. She hadn’t prayed to her mom in months. Not since that awful meeting at the museum when she’d been given her mission to retrieve the Athena Parthenos. Now, with the giant marble statue of her mother tied up in the stable, she still couldn’t bring herself to call on Athena. She’d spent months tormented by Minerva, then gone on the most grueling quest of her life, crushing the bones of her siblings with every step, then lost her friends to Tartarus, all in an attempt to soothe a goddess’s wounded pride. Even if the Parthenos managed to knock everyone’s socks off in the fight against the Giants, she couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t worth it. How could she possibly call on Athena for help, knowing she’d consider Piper and Leo’s sacrifice a suitable price? She’d almost rather call Hera than bite her tongue while her mother dismissed her friends like that. Almost.

Then, as if answering Hazel’s prayers, a cloud of dust came flying over the mountains. Hazel’s face lit up and she flung herself at the railing with a delighted shout. “Arion!”

Nico looked interested as well. “You mean your horse?”

Hazel nodded eagerly. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to see him again so soon, but if he’s here, he’s here to help. I need to get to him.”

Annabeth considered that, worrying her bottom lip. “I’m not too sure, Hazel. We agreed to not land the ship anymore, remember? Trying to stay as far away from Gaea as possible.”

Hazel was determined. “Just get me close and I can use the rope ladder.” Her eyes shone with a kind of eager desperation Annabeth recognized. She’d seen that look on dozens of Campers, and even in her own mirror for years when she’d been begging Chiron to let her go on her first quest. That desire to prove herself, to make the people who mattered proud of her, was a feeling Annabeth knew well. 

Annabeth still wasn’t entirely convinced, but she exchanged a glance with Nico who dipped his head once. “If you’re sure.”

“I can do it, I know I can,” Hazel said, nodding eagerly. “Just get me to him. I think he’s got something important to say to me.”

Festus was not happy with her. Annabeth had somewhat sheepishly informed the dragon that the mast had been broken again and she needed him to run the repair sequence. He'd let out a series of groans and creaks that she couldn't understand – he only broke out the Morse code when he had something important to say – but she could tell that he wasn’t implying anything flattering. Buford, on the other hand, had been far more vocal about his displeasure, loudly imitating Hedge and shouting “You think masts grow on trees, or something, cupcake?” while he scuttled around making sure repairs went according to plan.

Annabeth heaved a deep sigh and sat down to watch them work, tinkering with the Archimedes Sphere in her lap. Her gaze wandered over to Nico, who was standing a good distance from her, arms crossed and his usual scowl on his face. Still, she could see that under his frigid exterior, he was mystified at the sight of the ship knitting itself back together, even though he'd seen it twice already. Silence hung heavy and tense between them like it always did, and Annabeth resisted the urge to awkwardly clear her throat. She figured that whatever was going on between her and Nico had something to do with her dating Percy, and Nico’s issues with him. She wanted to grab the younger boy and shake him by the shoulders and demand he at least judge her by her own merit before writing her off and deciding she wasn’t worth his time, but she doubted it would help or make her feel any better. Instead she hummed thoughtfully and said, “He really is something else, isn't he?”

Across the deck, Nico stiffened like he'd been zapped with lightning and he turned his scowl on her, his cheeks suddenly pink. “What do you mean by that?” he snapped defensively.

Annabeth furrowed her brow in confusion and gestured at the self-repairing mast. “Uh, Leo? He really did think of everything when he was making this boat. Well, actually, the repairing thing might have been Piper’s idea, but I'm pretty sure she was just messing with him when she’d suggested it.”

“Oh.” For some reason, Nico actually seemed to relax the tiniest bit at that. He gripped the sleeve of his jacket and looked away from her. “I… actually don't know. I never really met the guy.”

“Oh,” she echoed, running through the timeline of events. Everything from the past year had kind of mixed together and distorted around itself. Some events that were merely minor inconveniences in hindsight stretched out to be years long ordeals, while the harrowing tribulations managed to squish themselves down into tiny little marbles of moments. Nico hadn’t been with them that long. He wasn't there for the Charleston fight or Shrimpzilla or Hercules. “I guess you didn't get the chance to properly meet them.”

Nico shrugged. “Piper and I were in Bacchus's booth together, but I wasn't really up for playing 20 questions at the time.”

Annabeth let out a bright snort of laughter and hunched over the Sphere. “I can tell you about them, if you'd like.”

She didn't expect him to say yes. She’d made the offer under the assumption that her only answer would be a dismissive scoff and a cold glower. She was quickly learning that she should never try to anticipate Nico DiAngelo.

He sat down in front of her, his face completely devoid of any expression. “Sure. I tried to ask Hazel about them, but she just started crying. No one else has offered to tell me who it is we're trying to save.”

Annabeth nodded seriously and straightened her back. “Piper McLean. Sixteen years old. Daughter of Aphrodite and movie star Tristain McLean, who has the ability to use Charmspeak. Immediately after her first quest, she challenged Drew for her position as counselor, but they wound up running the Aphrodite cabin together instead.

“Leo Valdez is fifteen. Son of Hephaestus, but I don’t know much about his mortal parent. He’s got the gift of fire, which hasn’t been seen in a Hephaestus kid since the 1600’s. He’s the one responsible for designing and building the Argo II. Meaning he’s the one who did all of–” she gestured at the self-repairing mast with the JoyCon in her hand “–this.”

Nico’s expression didn’t falter. “Oh. Good to know.”

Annabeth looked away from him, chewing her bottom lip. What she’d said about Piper and Leo was true, and covered all of the basics, but she didn’t like the way she’d boiled her friends down to a handful of sentences like she was outlining their stat spread. She sucked her teeth for a moment before adding, “They’re also Jason’s best friends. They showed up to Camp with him after he woke up with amnesia on a school field trip.”

That actually got Nico’s attention, and he cocked his head to the side.  “Amnesia? Like Percy had?”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. Jason actually had even less memory than Percy, and he’s still not entirely recovered.”

“What about Piper and Leo? Did they also have amnesia?”

“Not exactly. Hera did play with Leo’s memory and made him believe that Jason went to school with them, but she wasn’t able to trick Piper.” Annabeth snorted and covered her grin with her fist. “Actually, when the three of them showed up, she hated Jason.”

“I can imagine that. She didn’t exactly have anything polite to say about Percy when we were together,” Nico said dryly, and Annabeth couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh.

“I thought for sure she was going to try to fist fight Jason at their first campfire,” she admitted. “Fortunately, she got over it, and over the summer the three of them became inseparable.” She sighed heavily and looked back out over the mountains in the near distance, chewing on her lip. “I got to know them really well, too. Leo and I actually spent a lot of time together working on the ship, and Piper and I would spend hours studying mythology and just hanging out.” She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. “I hope they’re okay.”

Nico immediately sombered. “I’ve been trying to keep an eye out for them. As near as I can tell, neither of their souls have passed on.”

Annabeth grimaced. That’s what Nico always said. It wasn’t much of a comfort, but it was the only one he could give her, and she was grateful to have it. “Thanks.”

Nico cut his gaze away from her and stared out over the mountains as well. “I’’m sorry.”

She furrowed her brow at him. “For what?”

He shrugged, still not looking at her, and when he spoke his voice was clipped. “Just sympathy. Seems like you got a lousy deal in Rome. You lost a lot, and who you wound up with doesn’t really seem to measure up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Annabeth muttered bitterly. Had she been anyone else, she wouldn’t have noticed the way Nico flinched, but she did, though she didn’t mention it. “My mom very conveniently forgot to mention that getting her statue would involve losing two of my best friends in the process.”

Nico hummed contemplatively and stared out over the horizon, like he was letting everything she’d told him sink in. Then he suddenly stood, a serious look in his eye. “Do you have a way to send an IM on this ship?”

Annabeth frowned at him. “Uh, yeah. Leo installed a mist fountain in all of the cabins. I don’t know if he put them in the guest quarters, but if he didn’t, you can use the one in mine or Percy’s room.” He gave her a curt nod of thanks and turned on his heel to head below deck. “Wait! Who are you calling?”

He paused and looked at her over his shoulder. “An old friend of mine. I think he might be able to help.” Then he was gone. 

Annabeth watched him leave with no small amount of confusion, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips. Buford scuttled up beside her and she turned her attention to him. “How’s the mast?”

“Ship-shape!” Buford reported in a perfect imitation of Piper. Then he shifted slightly, and Annabeth wasn’t sure how she knew, but she could tell he was looking at where Nico had disappeared off to. “Odd one, huh?”

She scoffed, then opened and closed his drawer while he made a few noises of offended protest. “Find someone on this boat who isn’t weird. You’re a sapient side table, in case you forgot. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here talking to furniture. Normal isn’t really what we do.” Buford was still complaining quietly in that machine language only Hephaestus kids understood, so she rolled her eyes and held out the Archimedes Sphere for him to investigate. “What do you think?”

“That looks like a basketball,” Buford said in Jason’s dryly earnest voice. “A very weird basketball.”

“Well, you’re no help.”

“I never claimed to be helpful,” Buford said, echoing her own voice back at her.

She scowled and shoved him away. “Why don’t you wander off and gossip with Festus? Seeing as you can’t bring yourself to do anything of value.”

Buford made some very rude-sounding clicking noises before he turned around and scurried off, leaving Annabeth alone on the deck. She hefted the Archimedes Sphere up to eye level. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me again.”

Predictably, it didn’t say anything back.

Annabeth was so focused on the Archimedes Sphere that she didn’t even notice when Nico popped up right behind her until he gave her a flat, “Hey.” She flinched and gasped in shock, and he grimaced before glancing away. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault,” she dismissed, scowling at her own carelessness and trying to get her heart rate back down to normal. “I should be paying more attention.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, then nodded at the Sphere in her lap. “Any luck with that thing?”

After a moment’s consideration, she pressed a few buttons, clicked a couple gears into place, then held it out for observation. “I can make it do this.”

Right on cue, the Sphere let out a loud, deeply unpleasant, high-pitched whistle and Nico clapped his hands over his ears until she deactivated it. “And that’s useful how?”

She shrugged. “It’s not useful, but I can do it. I’m choosing to take my wins where I can get them right now.”

Before Nico could reply, Festus cut in with his usual symphony of clicks and whistles, which Buford helpfully translated to, “Horse Girl, 11 o’clock!” in Hazel’s voice. Annabeth was more than happy to abandon her project in order to get the Argo II into position for Hazel to climb up, which she did after a brief goodbye with Arion.

Nico was waiting to help her back aboard, which was a good thing, as her knees fully buckled as soon as her feet were back on deck. “Hazel, are you okay? What happened?” he demanded, his voice soft and a little strained like it always was.

“I’m fine,” Hazel insisted, pulling him into a tight hug. “Promise.” 

“Did you meet with our father?”

Hazel shook her head. “No, it was Hecate.” Nico stiffened at her words and she shot him a look that very clearly said, I’ll tell you later.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes, but before she could press for more information, a furry little face popped up from the collar of Hazel’s shirt, throwing her off track. “Hazel, why do you have a weasel?”

Said weasel made some very angry chittering sounds as Hazel coaxed it out into the open. “This is Gale. She’s one of Hecate’s followers, and she’s here to help.” Gale squeaked and squealed in outrage until Hazel winced. “And she’s a polecat, not a weasel.” 

Annabeth wasn’t exactly sure how a cranky polecat was going to help them, but much like she was taking her wins where she could get them, she recognized that they didn’t have much room to be picky about their divine help. She took a deep breath and nodded to Gale. “Polecat, my apologies.”

“So, what happened with Hecate?” Nico asked. “Did she have any advice?”

“Boy did she,” Hazel said, her tone a little sour. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t all good news.”

“Well, if it’s not all bad news, that’s already an improvement,” Annabeth pointed out.

Hazel nodded. “She said that there’s a way for us to get to Epirus in time. She said that there’s a path we can take to get across Italy.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Annabeth pulled out the Sphere and that same holographic map from before flickered to life. “Show me.”

“We have to keep going north,” Hazel reported dutifully. She scrolled through until she found the tiniest little gap. “There’s a pass, one that Hannibal took, where Hecate has some sway. She said she can help mask our progress, but trying to cross anywhere else is just going to wind up in disaster. For the ship and us.”

“Do not blow up my baby!” Buford interjected in Leo’s voice.

Annabeth nodded in agreement. “That’s not a surprise, really. At least we were already headed north.”

“That’s not all,” Hazel confessed. “She said we also have to go to Bologna and Venice, then we get to cross the Adriatic.”

Nico gaped at her. “Venice? Do you have any idea how far out of the way that is?”

Hazel nodded grimly. “Hecate was very insistent. She wouldn’t tell me why we needed to go there, but she made it plenty clear that it was the only way to save Piper and Leo.”

With that, Hazel and Nico both turned expectant and waiting eyes on Annabeth. Part of her wanted to scream. To insist that she was just a sixteen year old girl who had no business leading a quest to save the world, but that wasn’t a temper tantrum she was allowed to have. Really and truly, she’d never been allowed to have that temper tantrum. Instead, she dragged her hand down her face and let out a deep sigh. “At this point, we’re out of options. I’m almost willing to go to the moon if it has the best chance of getting us to Epirus.” 

“I offered a solution that could work earlier,” Nico reminded her. “I’m sure I could get us across.”

“No, what you offered me was a dead demigod,” Annabeth retorted. “I don’t exactly love this plan, and there’s no guarantee that it won’t end in dead demigods, but at least there’s no guarantee that it will. If Hecate is willing to help us, this is our best chance.” Nico didn’t really look any more thrilled about it than he did before, but he at least nodded in acceptance, and that was all Annabeth could really hope for at this point. 

She turned back to Hazel. “So, how is Gale meant to help us? Is she going to guide us through the pass or something?”

Gale chittered and squeaked like she was giving Annabeth a piece of her mind for even suggesting that she be reduced to a tour guide, but Annabeth couldn’t speak mustelid and she had no interest in learning any time soon. Fortunately for Gale, Hazel offered translation. “No, Hecate said we’ll know the pass when we find it; we won’t need a guide to get through that.” 

“Then why have you been given an animal sidekick?” Nico asked dryly. Gale squealed her outrage, only to be ignored yet again.

“She’s not going to be a guide for the ship, but she will be a guide for me,” Hazel said. Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder if being cryptic just came with the whole “Child of the Underworld” territory or if Hazel and Nico got together and practiced being infuriating. 

She decided an answer wasn’t worth her sanity and moved on. She turned back to the control panel and inserted the Archimedes Sphere in the big, gaping hole Leo had made for it, and traced out the path Hazel had directed for them on the holographic map. “You got that, Festus?” she called. Festus clicked out a confirmation in Morse code and she let out a somewhat relieved sigh. They could do this. They would do this. 

She gave Nico and Hazel a smile. “You two head below deck and get some sleep. I’ll stay up here and keep an eye out.”

“We can’t just leave you up here alone,” Hazel protested. “Someone ought to be helping you keep watch.”

“Well, it can’t be you, seeing as you look on the verge of passing out,” Annabeth countered, gesturing at the way Hazel had been swaying on her feet since she got back on board. “Besides, there shouldn’t be anything to be on the lookout for. We’re avoiding the mountains and the ourae, and Hecate is masking us. It’ll be fine. You two get what sleep you can while we’ve at least got a moment of peace.” Hazel and Nico both didn’t seem all that interested in arguing with her anymore, so Hazel nodded, and Nico offered up a lazy salute and a drawled “Aye, Captain,” which definitely didn’t make Annabeth smother a snort of laughter.

When she was once again alone (or as alone as she was allowed to be on this ship) she let out a soul-deep sigh and rested her head on the ship wheel. They could do this. They had a plan. They finally had the help they so desperately needed. They could rescue Piper and Leo, defeat Gaea, stop the war between the camps, and save the world. They would do it.

They didn’t have another choice. 

Chapter Text

Piper could vividly remember the exact moment when she’d almost innocently asked Annabeth to teach her about the horrors of Tartarus. It was one of their afternoon mythology lessons, they were piled up together in the Athena cabin, the sunlight was streaming in softly through the window, and Annabeth’s eyes were gleaming in challenge like they always did when Piper said there was no way she could make some mythology idea or another make sense. They’d spent the next few hours slumped against one another and sharing one of the seemingly endless books Annabeth had stashed under her bed.

One of the books had been by a guy named Hesiod, an Ancient Greek poet who managed to outline and actually write down a massive amount of information regarding the gods and Olympus and everything that came before it. He was one of the first people to actually name and describe Tartarus, both the place and the god. He’d called it a chasm, dismal and dark and full of decay,  where the foulest monsters were imprisoned. The lowest point of the universe, below even the Underworld, as far from the Earth as the gates to the heavens were. He’d theorized that it would take nine days to fall into the depths of the Pit, though he’d never thought to offer up a way to get back out.

Piper couldn’t help but think about that golden afternoon where Hesiod’s theories had been little more than a thought experiment, and compare it to the desperate way she clung to Leo as each one of those what ifs came true. She couldn’t say for sure if they’d been falling for the predicted nine days or not. Time seemed to distort around them, detaching her from reality until the only thing she knew was the feeling of her arms around Leo and his hands fisted in the back of her shirt and their shared trembling as tears leaked from their screwed shut eyes. 

It wasn’t fair, not in the slightest, but Gaea was cruel, a crueler goddess than any that came after her. They’d done everything right: they built the boat, made their trip, beat the Giants, saved the statue. They should have all been sailing to Greece together to beat Gaea, and instead they were here, leaving their friends behind. She thought about Jason suddenly, how he’d looked like his world was ending when he realized he couldn’t save them. She thought about the inky black stormcloud that had brewed overhead when he’d howled his grief and anger. She gripped Leo tighter and let a few tears leak onto the collar of his shirt. 

Then, suddenly, the darkness lifted.

The light that surrounded them as they fell was dim and red tinted, almost like a photo proofing booth, but it still blinded her. Suddenly she could see. She could see the vast gray landscape that stretched out below her and the thick clouds of ash and dust that filled the air. She could see the rivers that carved through the rock and cliffs like someone had sunk a knife into a stuffed animal and cut it open from nose to tail. She could see all of the twisted horrors of the world beneath as it rose to meet her.

Most importantly though, she could see Leo. She could see the way his hair was being yanked and tugged in all directions around his face, and she could see the hollow, glassy look in his eyes. His expression was dull and shallow, devoid of the spark of life and ingenuity and determination that had defined her best friend from the moment she’d met him in that crowded cafeteria. She realized that he’d given up. That he’d known from the moment he took her hand in Rome that she was going to die, and the only kindness he could offer her was dying at her side. She grit her teeth, indignation flaring in her chest. She was not going to die helpless and defeated and scared and she sure as fuck wasn’t going to let Leo die like that.

She pushed Leo away from her with a forceful shove, though she still kept a firm grip on his shirt sleeve, unwilling to let him go. “Leo!” she shouted. “Lay flat so you can slow your fall!” He just stared at her blankly and blinked at her, so she growled and vigorously shook him. She called to him again, putting as much Charmspeak into her voice as she could. “Listen to me, you asshole!”

That got through to him, and he gave a full-body shudder of disgust, just like he did every time she used her Charmspeak on him. He shook his head and blinked the fog out of his eyes before they went wide and he scrambled to follow her orders from before. He squeezed her arms tight in his overly-warm hands. “Piper!” He whipped his head back and forth, and Piper could see the instant he noticed the ground approaching because he started hyperventilating.

“Leo, focus,” she ordered, her words still laden with Charmspeak. Anything to keep Leo at least somewhat grounded. “I need your help.”

“We’re gonna die!” Leo shouted at her, but at least he was speaking.

“We’re not,” she insisted. “We’re not because you’re going to save us. You just need to slow us down so we can land in the water and we’ll be fine. You can outsmart this, Leo, I know you can.”

Leo sucked in a few trembling breaths before he locked eyes with her. He was terrified, she could see that much but he still nodded. “Hold on to me, and keep talking.”

She did as she was told, shifting her grip so she was holding onto his shoulders as he stuffed both hands into his toolbelt. “You can do this,” she assured him, her voice calm and smooth with a confidence she didn’t feel. “You will do this.”

With those words, the air was suddenly littered with all sorts of things Piper could hardly identify. There were a few screwdrivers and wrenches and sheets of sandpaper and who knew what else surrounding them, but Leo kept his attention focused on a mess of tarps and PVC pipes and springy bits of metal he kept close to his chest. Piper could feel her breath hitch in the back of her throat. The ground was still coming just as fast, and even if they managed to fall into the water instead of hitting the ground directly, it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight. She wasn’t exactly a physics wizard or anything, but she knew enough about surface tension to know that water was essentially concrete at this speed and that terminal velocity was called terminal for a reason. She swallowed thickly. “Can you maybe hurry up?”

“Give me a sec!” Piper was about to protest that she didn’t exactly have any spare secs to give, but at that exact moment, Leo let out a crow of victory. “Hang on!”

In one smooth motion, Leo rolled in mid-air, dragging Piper along with him, until they were falling back-first, and released his little contraption. Immediately, the world’s jankiest hang glider slash parachute blossomed to life above them, jerking them upright as their fall speed reduced dramatically. Piper was left clinging to Leo, who scrambled to grab the handles he’d made for himself as he directed them towards the river below. Piper squeezed him close, bracing for an impact that she knew was going to hurt. 

Realistically, they should have died. Even with Leo’s genius efforts, they hit the water way too fast, and the moment they hit the water, the hang glider was torn to shreds. They should have been knocked unconscious at least, then drowned as water flooded their lungs.

But that would have been far too easy, and Gaea wasn’t going to let them off the hook.

As soon as Piper’s head went under, she was drowning not in water, but in despair. Just give up, a desolate little voice in her head sighed. Haven’t we been through enough? We tried and we failed. Why keep fighting it? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let go?  

For a moment, she was tempted. Her mind flipped through every awful moment of her life. Every time she’d been brought to tears because some PR manager refused to listen to her desperate pleas to not be forced into whatever little dress they’d picked out for her. Back to all of the sneering looks from the awful girls she’d gone to school with and the disgusted scowls of suspicion leveled on her every time she’d been arrested for shoplifting. She remembered those moments where she’d clutched the phone to her ear while a disinterested assistant told her that her dad was too busy for her. She was six and no one was at her dance recital. She was ten at her grandfather’s funeral, and she was choking back tears as she watched them lower a man she hardly got the chance to know into the ground. She was fourteen and she was so, so very alone. 

But then she was fifteen. She was watching the stars with Leo on the roof of the prison they called a school. She was watching Jason carefully pick out each individual bead on the friendship bracelet he was making, completely unaware of the marshmallow stuck in his hair. She was standing behind Drew and making mocking faces while her siblings all desperately smothered laughter. She was braiding Annabeth’s hair in the strawberry field, both of them knowing they had other things to do, but choosing to be together instead. She was sixteen and she was on a quest to save the world and she was stressed and scared out of her mind, but she was surrounded by her friends and filled with love. 

Her eyes locked on Leo, and she grabbed him, kicking her way to the surface and hauling him up with her. She gasped in a lungful of air, and it burned so badly she almost wished she was drowning again. She was disoriented and dizzy and overwhelmed and every moment she spent in the river seemed to weigh her spirit down. They had to get out.

“What’s the point?” Leo muttered, as if reading her mind. “Can’t we just rest here? For a little while?”

“We can’t, Leo,” she insisted, tugging him along. He made no effort to help her, and his dead weight was starting to drag her down, too. Tears stung in her eyes. “Leo, please! Come on, don’t you fucking give up on me now!”

“I’m so tired, Pipes,” he sighed heavily. “I just want it to stop.”

“I know,” she choked out. She squeezed him in a hug, furiously kicking her feet to keep their heads above water. “I know we’ve been through so much, and I know you’ve had more than your fair share, but please. We can’t stop. Not yet.” She sucked in a deep breath and clung to him. “You said you and me, remember? Always.”

“Me and you,” Leo echoed.

“That’s right,” Piper said, making her voice as stern as she could when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball at the bottom of the river and cry until her soul was washed away. “You’re not leaving me just yet.”

Leo visibly gritted his teeth and nodded, and that was that. They held tight to one another as they floundered their way towards the shore, fighting tooth and nail to keep each other afloat. Every time one of them would dip their head below the surface of the water, threatening to give in, to drown in that misery, the other would drag them back with a firm reminder to keep going.

“So,” Leo gasped after Piper had hauled him up once again. “What do you wanna do after this?”

“Honestly? I just want a fucking milkshake,” Piper wheezed. Leo let out a bark of startled laughter and Piper couldn’t help but breathlessly giggle back. Their laughter sounded strained and hollow and just plain wrong in a place as awful as this, but she still clung to it. She’d always known Leo was her best friend who could make her laugh under the worst circumstances, and she was his. This was just a fun new low for them. Of course they’d laugh their way through Tartarus together. 

Finally, they clawed their way onto the black sand shore, but it was nothing like all those times she’d wearily climbed back onto California’s sandy beaches after a particularly exhausting wipe-out when she was surfing with her dad. The air was thick and caustic and her skin stung where she was laid out on the ground.

“Dude, that’s just not fair,” Leo whined. She looked over at him and he held up his palm, which was smeared with blood from the many, many cuts covering it. There were little flakes of black stuck to him and with a groan Piper realized that the sand they were on was actually shards of glass. “This is, like, comically evil.”

“Well, we are in Tartarus,” she reminded him. “I think comically evil is kind of the point.” He still continued to complain, so she sat up and put her hands on her belt, relieved beyond words to find that she still had her Cornucopia. “Give me your hands.”

Leo did as she said and she focused on summoning a stream of clean, clear water to wash his hands, but all that came out was a sad little trickle of cloudy brackish water. Leo wrinkled his nose, but still washed his hands. “Believe it or not, this is not the grossest water I’ve encountered. At least you’re not asking me to drink it. Yet.”

She wrinkled her nose right back at him. “Honestly, I’m not sure how you’re still alive. Shouldn’t you have gotten, like, dysentery or something?”

“At this exact moment, I’m kind of wishing I’d been Oregon Trailed at some point, but here we are.”

She sighed and put away the Cornucopia. “So, what do you have on you?”

“Same thing I’ve always got on me: Tool belt and a bunch of jack with a side of squat,” he reported. “I think my toolbelt is acting funky like your horn is, though. It kept spitting out random junk earlier when I was trying to use it.”

“And you don’t think that had anything to do with the major panic attack you were having?” He stuck his tongue out at her, and she rolled her eyes. Her hand drifted back to her belt in search of Katoptris, and she winced when she came up empty. Apparently, they wouldn’t be getting any visions, helpful or not. Her heart twinged a bit at the loss of her trusty knife. She’d had it since her first day of being a demigod, and it had never been outside of arm’s reach since that moment, and she felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed without it. “Well, just so you know, you’re our first and only line of defense, seeing as I dropped my knife upstairs. Congrats on the promotion.”

Leo pulled a face, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Piper knew that combat was not exactly Leo’s cup of tea, and was to be actively avoided any time he could manage to squirm his way out of it. Nyssa had plenty of stories about all of the creative ways Leo had invented to get out of sword fighting lessons at Camp, despite the fact that they were meant to be mandatory. Still he pushed himself to his feet and offered her a hand to help her up. “Come on, we’ve got to get moving. This place is literally killing us and we can’t just sit here and wait for it to do its thing.”

Piper nodded and wracked her brain, trying to remember anything of that afternoon with Annabeth that didn’t have to do with just how pretty Annabeth was when she laughed. As she stared at Leo, there was one thought that came to mind. Fire. There was a river of fire in Tartarus, the Phlegethon. It was a long shot, but it was the only chance they had. “I’ve got an idea, but you’re probably going to think I’m crazy.”

“I already think you’re crazy,” Leo countered. “But we’re in Crazy Town now. I doubt there’s much of anything that will really make me think you’re crazy at this point.”

She grinned. “Let’s put that to the test.”

“You’re insane,” Leo said flatly.

“What happened to us being in Crazy Town?”

“That was before you walked me up to a river of fire and told me to take a big ol’ swig,” he scoffed, gesturing at the fiery river before them. “Like, that is well beyond crazy.”

“It’s something Annabeth told me about during mythology lessons,” Piper explained. “One afternoon, she taught me basically everything she knows about Tartarus, and this was one of those things. This river is used to torture the wicked and monsters and stuff.”

“You’re not exactly selling your product.”

“Yeah, but we’re not wicked souls or monsters,” Piper pointed out. “We’re human people.”

“Only on my mother’s side.”

Piper ignored him. “Some legends call it a river of healing. It’s used to keep the souls of the damned alive so they can endure the Fields of Punishment. I think it might kind of work like Ambrosia and Nectar.”

“That is a major I think, Piper,” Leo said sternly. “Look, take it from the guy who can self-immolate at will, but fire is not healing, especially not magic fire. It just hurts people.”

She scowled at him. “Well, if you’re gonna be a chicken, then fine.” Without warning, she shoved her hand into his toolbelt and rifled around for only a second before emerging with an empty paint canister. That would do.

She fell to her knees on the bank of the river, feeling its heat wash over her while Leo shouted warnings and protests she didn’t listen to. For a split second she considered praying before she remembered that even if the gods were listening, they couldn’t hear her down here. She and Leo were on their own. She stuck her hand in the fire.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. Well, it didn’t burn, at least. It was warm and it tingled, just like that time she’d been eight and she stuck her fingers in an empty light socket, just to see what would happen. She figured that was not a good thing, as fire not being hot was probably a sign of all of her nerve endings being completely burned away or something, but she didn’t have time to care. She withdrew her cup, flames trickling down the sides like splashing water, and brought it to her lips. 

Now it burned. She’d never really been a huge fan of spicy food, and this was what she imagined drinking pepper spray would be like, only a hundred thousand times worse. It was only sheer force of will that kept her from barfing up what little was in her stomach as she fell to her knees. She choked and spluttered and gasped in heaving lungfuls of air once she managed to swallow her mouthful. She immediately looked down at her hands, just in time to see the tiny little cuts from their trip to Glass Beach knit themselves together. Better yet, her lungs no longer felt shredded, like the air wasn’t toxic any more. She turned to Leo and shoved the canister at him. “Drink it. It works.”

Leo didn’t look any more convinced now than he had before her stunt, and he took a cautious step back, eyeing the fire like he was scared of it. “I think I’ll take my chances.” 

Before Piper could come up with a snarky argument, Leo let out a hacking, wheezing cough, and he doubled over, clutching his chest. The air, Piper realized with horror. He still couldn’t breathe. He nearly tipped forward to his knees, but Piper managed to catch him in time, grunting under his weight, slight as it was. “Please just drink it,” she whispered harshly. “I know you don’t like it, but trust me, please.”

Leo grit his teeth, but he reached out and took the cup in his hand, and together they trickled some of the fire down Leo’s throat. He gagged at the taste and shuddered so violently the cup fell from their hands and turned to ash as soon as it hit the ground. “That was disgusting,” he grimaced. “Like, way worse than anything I’ve ever had, and that is saying a lot.”

Piper wheezed out a half-laugh and rubbed his back as he straightened. “Something tells me that you’re going to be saying that a lot down here.”

He gave her a wry, fleeting smile before he turned back to the river, looking up and down its length. “Well, now what? We can’t exactly just stay here, unless you want me to see if I can fish out a tent. Maybe we can make use of some of those Wilderness School skills and have ourselves the shittiest camping trip ever.”

Surprisingly, the offer was almost tempting, but she dismissed the idea. As much as she wanted to at least take a breather, this wasn’t the place to do it. “Come on, let’s keep moving. We can walk and talk.”

They started their trek, but neither of them had all that much to say, both too focused on putting one foot in front of the other to make the effort to chit-chat. This left Piper to her own thoughts, which she hadn’t truly done since well before their fall in Rome. The oppressive weight of Tartarus pressed down on her, looming and massive and unknowable in its horrors. She thought about that afternoon with Annabeth, how it had all started with a playful challenge just so they could spend time together. It wasn’t supposed to matter, the knowledge was meant to be theoretical at best, not something she would ever need. And yet here she was, living out each word that had been neatly printed in Annabeth’s library, read aloud like it was nothing more than a scary campfire story. She tripped on her own feet and stumbled to a stop, her breath hitching in her lungs.

Leo immediately stopped as well, turning to her with eyes sharpened in concern. “Pipes? What’s happening?”

“I just–” She cut herself off with a choked sound and rammed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets, trying to keep her tears at bay. It didn’t work, and she could feel the few tears that squeezed out boil on her cheeks. “I can’t believe we’re here. In Tartarus. I could hardly believe this place was even real before, but now we’re here. It’s not fair. Like, what’s even the point of all this?”

Leo’s hands wrapped around her wrist, his heat warm when the air around them burned. “It’s not fair,” he agreed quietly. “This fucking sucks, and there’s nothing anyone can say that’s gonna make it suck less.”

She sniffled in response, so he tugged at her wrists until she could meet his eye. He gave her a smile, weary beyond words and terrified of the journey ahead of them. “But at least we’re stuck here together, yeah? You didn’t let me give up and I’m sure as hell not letting you give up.”

She groaned and tipped forward so he could wrap her up in a hug, tucking her smile into the crook of his neck. “You’re so mean to me. I don’t deserve for you to treat me like this.”

“Turnabout’s fair play, bitch,” he teased, pinching her on the side. 

She groaned again and straightened. She opened her mouth to say something that would have no doubt been incredibly witty and insightful, but she caught a glimpse of something over Leo’s shoulder. It was a bright blue little car, and it looked like it was covered in, wait, were those spiderwebs?

Leo noticed her gawking and turned to investigate, his eyes going wide. “Dude, no way. You don’t think?” Before she could say anything, he bounded over to the car to investigate more thoroughly. Inside was what looked like a giant Chinese Finger Trap, only it was made entirely of spider silk. Leo reared back and kicked it as hard as he could, releasing a cloud of glittery gold monster dust. He coughed and spluttered, waving it away from his face. “Okay, yeah. Monsters can, in fact, die down here. Good to know.”

“This must be the trap Annabeth used for Arachne,” Piper mused, running her fingers over the contraption. “It really is a work of art. Arachne was an incredible weaver.”

Leo pulled a face and kicked the trap again. “I don’t give a shit how many craft fairs she would have won; I’m glad she’s dead. It’s her dumb fault we’re down here in the first place.”

Piper winced and looked away. She remembered the feeling of spiderwebs clinging to her in Rome. She’d been so worried about getting Annabeth free that she’d stupidly failed to make sure she wasn’t getting tangled up in the mess as well. She’d been running to the Argo II, chasing after Leo when the snare had sprung, causing her to trip and fall to the ground. She’d been dragged backwards into the pit behind them, scrabbling desperately at loose cobblestones, and knowing every second was one closer to her dying scared and alone. But then Leo had grabbed her hand, had held her tight and kept them barely tethered to the surface for as long as he could. She’d felt the barest flicker of hope for a moment, before she realized that he couldn’t save her, though he still held on. She’d begged him to just let her fall and to save himself, but he refused. He wasn’t leaving her and he wasn’t letting her leave him. 

Her thoughts drifted to Jason again, to the promise Leo had forced him to make. The Doors of Death. Leo hadn’t meant it when he said it, she knew that now, but maybe that didn’t really matter. It was a crazy idea, the thought of them making it across all of Tartarus when they’d barely managed to stumble to the Phlegethon, but then again drinking fire was a crazy idea, too. Maybe crazy was exactly what they needed now. 

She grit her teeth and kept walking. “Come on. We’ve got places to be.”

Leo’s brows shot up, and he fell into step beside her. “Yeah? Where’s that?”

“Doors of Death,” she informed him matter of factly. Some part of her hoped that if she said it as casually as she would a suggestion to go to the grocery store, it would make things easier. “You’ve got a date, remember?”

Leo scoffed. “The Doors? Seriously? And just how do you expect us to get there? Do you even know where they are?”

Well, no, she didn’t. Hesiod hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with his suggestions for exit strategies, but he’d given enough information for Piper to make up her own ideas. “Well, Tartarus isn’t just a place, he’s an actual, living, breathing being, just like Gaea, only a little more literal.”

Leo made a face at the craggy gray landscape around him. “Dude needs to moisturize, if that’s the case.”

She cracked a smile. “Well, I figure that if the Doors are anywhere, they’re in the deepest, darkest, worst depths: his heart. And these rivers–” she gestured to the Phlegethon beside them “–are kind of supposed to be like his blood. And where does blood go?”

“To the heart,” Leo mused softly. He considered that for a moment before he quirked half a grin at her. “If this works, I take back everything I said about you being a useless lesbian with a crush on a girl who has a boyfriend. You’re a very useful lesbian with a crush on a girl who has a boyfriend.”

She considered shoving him in the fire river but decided against it. What she had failed to mention in her brilliant plan, and what Leo had pointedly ignored, was the fact that finding the Doors was arguably the easy part. They didn’t know how they were going to get there, or what they were going to do when they made it. It wasn’t like the two of them were the most formidable demigods at Camp, and that was before Piper had gone and lost the only sharp weapon between the two of them. And even if they somehow managed to find the Doors, get there in one piece, and defeat the enemy hordes that awaited them, there was no promise that they’d make it out. She remembered how time had felt like it was distorting around them during their fall. They had no way of knowing if it had been hours, days, or even years on the surface. For all they knew, Gaea had already overthrown the world and all their friends were dead and there would be no one to open the Doors on the other side. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t try. That didn’t mean they had to give up.

She offered him a sharp grin and a handshake. “You and me. You in?”

He gave her back a grin that was equally sharp and squeezed until her fingers almost ached. “Me and you. I’m in.” 

Chapter Text

If anyone were to ask Percy, he’d tell them straight up that nightmares were the worst part about being a demigod. Sure, the whole “fighting monsters and running for your life and saving the world every other summer" thing wasn’t exactly a highlight, but at least it was active. You could learn to defend yourself, you could teach yourself the skills you needed to survive, and you could, in fact, save the world just as many times as the gods decided to mess it up. When awful things happened in the waking world, there was something you could do about it. 

When awful things happened in dreams, you just had to take it. They were always scary and unpleasant, and even when they were giving information, they were so damned cryptic that they just circled right back to being unhelpful. And, sometimes, they just happened because some god or another wanted to be a bit of a dick and make you relive an awful experience you’d pretty much forgotten.

Take for example, when someone upstairs – or downstairs, actually – decided that it would be fun to make Percy relive the weekend he’d spent trapped with one Michelle Ugliano. For one reason or another that Percy either hadn’t been made aware of at the time or had simply forgotten, Percy’s mom had gone on a weekend trip with Smelly Gabe, and Percy had not been allowed to come, and was instead dropped off with Gabe’s mom. She’d been an older lady with a thick Boston accent, a nasty attitude, and a somehow nastier house. It was a stand-alone house in one of the suburbs around New York City, and the walls were covered in peeling wallpaper in ugly patterns and the floors had a thick stained carpet that Percy suspected had, at one point, been shag before it was matted beyond all recognition. The whole place smelled of the cheapest menthol cigarettes Michelle could get her hands on, and she kept all the lights dimmed because she was constantly hungover or drunk and claimed the lights hurt her eyes.

Percy had spent the entire weekend locked in the house with her because she “didn’t want the hassle of calling the cops when you get snatched by some bozo” but she couldn’t be bothered to keep an eye on him while he played outside. By Saturday afternoon, Percy had been weighing his options and considering if maybe getting “snatched by some bozo” was a more appealing alternative. She was surly and mean, and didn’t let Percy call her anything except Mrs. Ugliano, which he couldn’t pronounce, so he stuck with saying Mrs. Ugly Momo quickly and under his breath so she couldn’t hear him properly over the sound of her near-constant complaining. (He was six and his name-calling game wasn’t quite up to snuff yet. Cut him some slack.) She’d also had a decrepit old cat named Lucy, who hated Percy just as much as her owner did and delighted in chasing him up and down the long, narrow hall that bisected the house. 

Percy was running down that hall again, though now he was sixteen, not six and he could theoretically turn around and kick the spawn of Satan cat until it left him the hell alone, but for whatever reason he couldn’t. All he could do was keep running, his feet pounding against that disgusting carpet as the dank, narrow hall seemed to stretch ever on and on until the end of forever. He could feel something at his back, threatening to overtake him, and he wanted to believe it was Lucy, but something told him it was much, much worse than that. 

Then, of course, the goddess of the hour showed up.

Run, brave one, Gaea crooned in that stupid sleepy voice of hers. Run all you like. You know there is no escape. You know you can never truly outrun the darkness. 

As she spoke, the shadows on the walls seemed to solidify, and Percy knew for a fact that Lucy was definitely not the one chasing him. He wanted to dig his heels into the ground and draw his sword, to face down whatever it was, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t. That just wasn’t how dreams worked.

As if reading his mind, Gaea laughed, No, you will not face my most favored son here, it is not the time. Even if you were able to, you could not defeat him. He is the darkness that consumes all magic, consumes all light. What hope have you against him?

Percy grit his teeth. He’d never really enjoyed being told what battles he was and wasn’t allowed to pick, and he liked knowing that the other person was right even less. But he was tired of running through this disgusting house. He wasn’t six any more, this house didn’t scare him, nor did that nasty woman or her evil cat. He wasn’t running from this any more. He spied a door just a few feet away, coated in sea-weathered blue paint that flaked off in little sheets that fluttered in the wind. He knew that door. Knew it better than the one to his bedroom in the apartment where he lived with his mom and Paul.

He ripped open the door and stumbled through, only to find himself on the front porch of Cabin Three at Camp Half Blood. For a split second, he wanted to take in  a deep breath and revel in the feeling of finally being home for the first time in nearly a year, but just as quickly as comfort came, it was dashed. This wasn’t his home, not as he knew it. The cabins he’d loved so much, even the one he’d just emerged from, were torn to rubble and blackened with ash and smoke. The whole place was completely deserted, other than one lone figure standing at the edge of a crater that had at one point been the volleyball pit. A lone figure with familiar blond hair and thin, lanky limbs. 

Percy snarled in fury and vaulted over what was left of the porch fence and sprinted towards him. He grabbed Octavian by one arm and violently spun him around, snarling, “What the hell did you do?”

Octavian hardly reacted. He kept his eyes shut with a small, indulgent smile on his face as he gently swayed from side to side. When he opened his mouth to speak, Gaea’s voice came through. It’s a shame this had to happen, isn’t it? It could have been avoided, you know.  But not any longer. The Romans march steadily from the west, and they will take your home, reduce it to rubble, and you won’t even be there to bear witness. It is what they were born to do, after all.

Percy’s lip curled up in disgust, but before he could say anything more, the world dimmed around him, and he knew his time was up. Whatever was chasing him in the house had managed to follow him here. He started running again, but as he did, the horror of what had befallen his home became more and more clear. Camp wasn’t deserted, it was decimated. The bodies of his friends were littered about in undignified heaps, their faces slack and expressionless or twisted up in fear. Tears stung at his eyes, but he couldn’t stop. He kept running. 

He ran until his side stitched, and he raced past the treeline, expecting to find himself in the woods, only to stumble out at the edge of a cliff. He certainly wasn’t at Camp any more, he knew every inch of that place like he knew his own breath. He peered over the edge, only to see swirling clouds of gray mist and nothing else. He had no way of knowing what was at the bottom, if there even was one. Beside the cliff was a cave, but its entrance was so shrouded in darkness that it offered no more information than the cliff did. He could hear shuffling from within and some muffled whines and groans, and he was suddenly reminded of how much he hated zombie movies.  

“You will have to make a choice, you know.”

Percy whipped his head around to see a woman standing at the mouth of the cave, though he could swear she hadn’t been there before. She was dressed in some kind of Ancient Greek dress like Percy sometimes saw the goddesses wear when they wanted to be more formal. She had long, dark hair twisted up and pinned in place by all sorts of fancy emerald-studded hair pins that glinted and glittered like a Christmas tree. Her hand was up near her throat, and she had a white-knuckled grip on the necklace she wore: a large, flat pendant made up of a bunch of geometric angles and lines that reminded Percy of those little plastic mazes where you had to get the ball inside from one end to the other. When she looked Percy up and down, her lip curled in disgust and her eyes got so hard that he was almost convinced that he was talking to Annabeth’s mom. “Oh, it’s you. Of course it’s you.”

Percy awkwardly cleared his throat. “Have we, uh, met? Sorry, I’m not good with faces.”

“We’ve never met, but you have met two of my children,” she said sharply. “Both of whom you helped destroy.”

Percy wanted to tell her that that really didn’t narrow anything down, he’d destroyed a whole bunch of people’s children, but the world dimmed around him again. “Look, I’ve got to go. Sorry for destroying your children or whatever. I mean, maybe I’m sorry. Maybe they deserved it, though. Were they trying to kill me at the time of destruction? Usually when I destroy stuff it’s in self-defense.”

She scowled at him. “You will have to make a choice,” she repeated, gesturing at the cliff and the cave again. “Either way, you will die. If you do not choose, my shadowy friend will arrive and he will make the choice for you.”

“Is there an option where I don’t die? Because you’re kind of giving me a really shitty bargain.”

“They say dying in a dream doesn’t actually kill you, but I think I’d like to test that theory. We both know this is no ordinary dream, don’t we?” There was a loud cracking sound behind him, like a line of trees snapping like toothpicks, and she smiled at him then, wide and wicked. “Nevermind. It’s too late for you now.” 

Percy turned around and saw a Giant step through the trees, only he couldn’t really see him. He was completely made of darkness, shrouded in smoke and shadows, and he seemed to suck up all the light and color that surrounded him, leaving the world dim and gray. Percy took a step back towards the cliff. The crazy lady was right, he’d have to choose. He couldn’t stand and fight, so he could go into the cave of death, or he could take a leap of faith.

And, well, he’d never really mastered the whole “look before you leap” thing. 

He jumped off the cliff, hoping beyond hope that there was water below the gray mist clouds, but he’d never get to find out because at that exact moment, he rolled out of bed and directly onto the floor. He sat up with a groan and rubbed the pain out of the back of his neck and looked around.

“You’re not Annabeth.”

Percy looked up to see Jason standing in the doorway, his brows knit together, but his expression otherwise blank, just like it had been for the past five days. Percy cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, no. I wasn’t Annabeth last time I checked. That would make dating pretty weird.” Jason just continued to stare at him, unfazed, so he awkwardly cleared his throat. “I can go get her for you, though.”

Jason nodded sharply. “We’re having a meeting in the mess hall. Now that we’re out of the mountains, Nico has some information that he’d like to share.”

Then he was gone, leaving Percy alone in his girlfriend’s cabin. He heaved a deep sigh and stared up at the ceiling, not really looking forward to another tense crew meeting, and he really didn’t want to know what, exactly, it was that Nico had found out. But nobody asked demigods what they wanted to do, they just told them what they had to do. 

At least Lucy wouldn’t be there. 

 It didn’t take Percy long to find Annabeth because there were only about four places on the ship where she spent any real time, and Percy could already rule out her cabin. Since they’d set sail from Rome, she was almost always steering the ship, repairing the ship, trying to understand the Archimedes Sphere, or wrestling with the Athena Parthenos. In all honesty, the most time Percy had gotten to spend with her was that one time they’d been on watch together, or those times when they were trading off shifts and met for the briefest moments in Annabeth’s cabin before they went off to either sleep or do whatever thing needed doing now. Percy was pretty sure Leo hadn’t needed to be nearly this hands-on with the ship when he’d been around, but he couldn’t really be all that sure, seeing as he hadn’t exactly paid all that much attention to what Leo was up to. Piper hadn’t exactly given him much of a chance to pay attention to either of them. Not that Percy had really put in an effort into trying, happy to just stew in the mutual animosity, which he felt guilty about now that they were gone. He wondered if Piper would be open to maybe mending a few bridges when she got back. He'd had a respect for girls who would haul back and deck a guy in defense of her best friend since he was twelve. He dismissed the thought. He’d have plenty of time to hold hands and sing Kumbaya with Piper and Leo both when they picked them up in Epirus. They just had to get there first. Which meant that, right now, he needed to find Annabeth.

As expected, she was mentally boxing with the Athena Parthenos. They had managed to secure it in the (thankfully unused) stables, and Annabeth spent a majority of her free time climbing all over it, trying to figure out just what made it tick. Percy, for one, hated the thing. He’d never been on the best of terms with Athena, and him dating Annabeth hadn’t endeared him to her and her tormenting Annabeth all summer hadn’t endeared her to him. The statues cold, hard features and piercing stare reminded Percy all too much of his run-ins with the goddess herself, and it made him involuntarily grit his teeth and clench his fists. Still, he had to admit it was an impressive sight. Considering it was a few thousand years old, was stolen by ransacking Romans, then lived in a cave with an evil spider monster woman, it was in pristine shape. Percy figured that was thanks to impeccable craftsmanship, some inherent magic, and probably plenty of spite-fueled curation from Arachne. 

But even if it was big and pretty and impressive, big and pretty and impressive wasn’t exactly going to help defeat the Giants, which was its whole purpose. Annabeth had gone through so much pain and suffering, and then they’d lost Piper and Leo, all to get their hands on the so-called “Giants bane” and it couldn’t even do anything. Sure, it radiated plenty of magical power – Percy had been around the block more than enough times to pick up on that much – but even still it was just a completely motionless statue. No lazer beams, no smiting, no secret mechanisms that would spring it to life so it and the Nike statue could do some tag-team ninja throwdown stuff. It was just a statue, and he got the feeling that was all it was ever going to be.

But Percy figured that between him and Annabeth, one of them had to be the optimist, and since she was already wearing more than her fair share of hats, it was his turn to take the job. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, chin hooking over her shoulder. “So, is mommy dearest willing to spill her secrets yet?”

Annabeth heaved a heavy sigh and sagged in his arms, heel of her palm pressing hard between her eyebrows. Percy just tightened his grip, more than willing to hold her up while she leaned on him. “No. I’ve spent the past four hours crawling all over this thing, and I’m no closer to understanding anything.”

Percy frowned and hugged her just that little bit closer. “Hey, try not to sweat it. You’re Annabeth Chase. If anyone can figure this thing out, I know it’s going to be you.”

“I’m not sure there is anything to figure out.”

The room fell silent, the clipped, bitter words floating in the air like forgotten naval mines at the bottom of the sea. Percy sucked on his teeth for a moment, carefully picking out his words and navigating that minefield. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if there’s not anything to figure out?” Annabeth asked. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug, clenching the sleeve of Percy’s shirt in her fist. “Sure, it’s a symbol of power for Athena, and it has magic woven into it, but maybe that’s just it. Maybe the reason I haven’t figured it out is because it’s just a stupid statue and there’s nothing to figure out.”

“But what about the whole Giants bane thing?” 

Annabeth’s smile was sharp and twisted her mouth into a wry little knot. “You were the one who said interpreting prophecies was bad news. Minerva didn’t say she’d help, she just told me to get the statue, and she got what she wanted. What’s the loss of two demigods to her?”

Percy swallowed heavily. “Do you really believe that, Beth?”

Annabeth stepped out of the circle of his arms and glowered up at the statue, contempt and disgust on every feature. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. I’ve always done everything right. I’ve always done everything I was asked, and all I’ve ever gotten was another demand. All they ever want to do is take, Percy, and I’m not sure how much longer I’m willing to give.”

Percy watched her for a moment. Watched the way she screwed her eyes shut tight, like she couldn’t stand to look at the world for another second. Watched the way she bit her lip and held herself tightly as she trembled, like she was going to shatter to pieces right there in front of him while he could do nothing but watch. He swallowed thickly, and stepped up beside her again. “Beth?”

She looked up at him, her gray eyes damp with tears she refused to shed. “I’m tired, Percy. I don’t know if I can do this by myself.”

He squared his jaw, and grabbed her elbows, his hands and gaze unwavering. “Then let me help you.” 

At those words, she sucked in a shuddering breath and tipped forward. He wrapped her up again, holding her together while she shook apart in his arms. “I don’t know what you should believe. I just know what I believe,” he said softly into her hair. “I believe in you. I believe in us, in this crew. I believe in Piper and Leo. I believe we’re going to save them, and then we’re going to save the world. It’s not much to believe in, sure, but it’s something.”

She heaved a deep sigh, but for the first time in days, she held him back. “I just hope it’s enough.”

Percy huffed out a half laugh. “It will be. We’ve done more with less, haven’t we?” She hummed in response and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come on. Forget about the  statue for a bit. Apparently, Nico’s got something to tell us, so we’re having a meeting in the mess hall.”

Annabeth actually perked up at that. “Good. I have some questions I’ve been wanting to ask him.”

Percy arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“You’re about to find out, one way or another,” she grinned, getting up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Let’s get out of here, Seaweed Brain.”

“After you, Wise Girl.”

As expected, the meeting was a miserable event, seeing as it was being held by a miserable bunch of demigods. From the looks of things, Hazel had been crying again recently, but she was still feeding the polecat around her neck bits of boiled egg. Beside her was Nico, who looked a bit like a freshly animated corpse on his good days, much less when he was running on nothing but anxiety and two hours of sleep. Jason wasn’t sitting, Percy hadn’t seen him sit in days, instead standing at perfect attention towards the side of the room, his face just as hard and expressionless as the Athena Parthenos. Frank wasn’t there, but Percy knew that was just because he was up on deck keeping watch with Hedge, which was a little concerning, considering Percy wasn’t sure how well Frank could curb Hedge’s trigger happy tendencies. Once again, Percy found himself wishing Piper was still on board. Hedge didn’t listen to anyone but he tended to ignore Piper less than he ignored everyone else. 

Even the mess hall itself was depressing. Like most everything on the Argo II, the live-stream display of Camp Half-Blood that lined the wall was impressive, and Percy had appreciated it before. They definitely made him a little homesick, of course, but it was nice to be able to check up on Camp with next to no effort. He’d missed his home more than anything, and getting it back, even in this small way, had been a blessing. Now though, the sight just made him queasy. All he could think about as he looked out over the trampled paths was his dream, and every time he blinked all he could see was the cabins reduced to corpse-strewn piles of rubble.

Unsurprisingly, Annabeth was the one who looked the most put-together because that’s just what Annabeth did. Even with her hair a mess and dark circles marring the space under her eyes, she held her chin up with determination and confidence as she took her usual seat at the head of the table, and Percy sat down at her right side. He saw her eyes flick over to where Jason was standing, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned to Nico. “So. Information. Does this have anything to do with that friend of yours you needed to call?”

Percy whipped his head around in surprise, but Nico just shook his head. “No. Well, not really. That’s something else.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Is being cryptic a requirement, or is it just for fun?”

Surprisingly, a tiny smirk played at the corner of Nico’s lips. “It’s a little for fun,” he said dryly. 

Before he could say anything else, Hazel cut in. “So, we’ve made it past the mountains, and we’re right outside of Bologna, which is the first stop Hecate wanted us to make before we go to Epirus.”

Percy frowned and poked at the blue pancakes that had appeared on his plate without him even having to ask for them. “What does she even want us to do in Bologna?”

“No idea,” Hazel admitted. “She just said we’d need to go there if we want to have a chance at the House of Hades. The only hint she gave was something about dwarves.”

“Speaking of the House of Hades, I communed with the dead last night,” Nico added. It wasn’t exactly an odd thing for Percy to hear from him, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if Nico had graduated from digging shallow graves full of McDonalds to place his long-distance phone calls. “They were able to give me an idea about what’s waiting for us in Epirus.”

“I’m guessing it’s not a gift shop,” Annabeth drawled.

Nico shook his head. “In ancient times, the House of Hades was a popular destination for Greek pilgrims. They would go there to contact their ancestors, to ask for advice or honor them. They called it the Necromanteion, and you’d work your way down through the different levels by drinking special potions. Each level was supposed to bring you a step closer to the Underworld until the dead appeared, and if they were pleased with your offerings they’d speak with you. Maybe even offer to tell you the future.”

Percy grimaced at the thought of more mysterious potions. He’d drunk enough weird things throughout his life as a demigod that it would have probably put his tenth grade chemistry teacher in a coma if she ever found out, considering her passionate tirades about lab safety and general disdain for unidentified liquids. He decided not to bring that up. “And if they didn’t like what you brought?”

Nico gave him a flat look that somehow still managed to drip with disdain. “If you were lucky, they just wouldn’t show up.”

Percy didn’t back down. “And if you weren’t?”

“They’d kill you where you stand,” Nico said simply. “Or drive you mad and leave you to wander the halls until you die of starvation. Kind of depends on the ghost and how badly you managed to piss them off.”

“The House of Hades isn’t the only thing we have to worry about though,” Hazel added. “There’s… someone waiting for us. It’s a Giant, the one Hecate fought in the first Giant War. His name is Clytius.”

“Lemme guess,” Percy hummed. “Big guy, wrapped in shadows who consumes all magic and light?”

Hazel’s eyes got wide. “How’d you know that?”

“Dream,” he shrugged casually. Everyone at the table nodded in understanding, so Percy went into detail about his night time visions, starting from where he was being chased by Gaea and Clytius, then his brief confrontation with puppet-Octavian and his prophecies of a destroyed Camp and the mysterious lady who’s idea of fun was parachuteless skydiving or spelunking with zombies. He did conveniently leave out the fact that the dream had started with him running from a hundred year old cat. He figured that wouldn’t exactly make him sound all that heroic.

“So, Clytius will be guarding the Doors,” Annabeth hummed. “What about that woman? What does she want?”

Gale the polecat started chittering and squeaking wildly until Hazel scratched her under the chin to shut her up. “She’s gonna be my problem,” she proclaimed. “Hecate warned me that there would be someone waiting for me at the House of Hades. Someone who can only be defeated with magic.”

“Do you… know magic?” Annabeth asked, her brows knitting together.

“Not yet,” Hazel admitted. “That’s why Gale’s here. Hecate sent her to teach me.”

Percy had to admit that he wasn’t exactly loving the idea of their hopes riding on Hazel’s transformation into a magical girl at the hands of a deranged weasel, but he figured he’d taken longer shots that worked out. He clucked his tongue a few times in thought. “Okay, well, what about Clytius? Do we have any suggestions on how to beat him, or are we going with the tried and true method of kicking his ass until a god decides to show up and steal our kill?”

“That’s the other thing,” Nico said. “The person I spoke with? He was a follower of Hecate back in the day. Said she was able to originally defeat Clytius by tying her torches into his hair and burning him. So, that’s his weakness. Fire.”

The room went silent and everyone glanced over to where Jason was standing. His face was still just as hard and blank as ever, but the air had gone completely still like it did just before a tornado. Nobody mentioned the missing pyromaniac. Nobody had to.

Annabeth cleared her throat to draw the attention back to herself. “You said that Clytius was originally defeated with Hecate’s torches?” Nico nodded, and Annabeth actually looked almost relieved. “I think I have an idea, in that case. Daedalus’s laptop has blueprints for replicas of almost all of the gods’ symbols of power, from Zeus’s Master Bolt to Hermes’s Caduceus. I’m sure he’s got Hecate’s torches in there somewhere.”

“So, that just means we have to fly to Venice, make it to Epirus, navigate the House of Hades, fight off the monster hoards that are almost certainly waiting for us, out-magic the mystery woman, and set fire to a Giant made of shadows,” Percy summarized. He glanced over at Hazel. “When did you say Hecate scheduled Gaea’s homecoming party?”

“August first,” Hazel reported. “The Feast of Spes. It’s a celebration of hope.”

“Let it not be said that Gaea doesn’t understand irony,” Annabeth said dryly. “Still, even with our detours, we should make it to Epirus in four or five days, max. Since it’s only the sixth of July, we should have no problem getting to Greece by the first of August. Assuming we don’t get too held up by monsters, or anything.”

“Yeah, because nothing like that would ever happen to us,” Percy added sarcastically.

As if to prove his point, the ship lurched to the side, hard. Percy lost his pancakes, Jason staggered where he’d been standing at attention, and Nico went flying. He hit his head against the sideboard, and fell into a limp heap while magical plates and goblets rained down on him. Hazel yelped and darted to his side, and Annabeth stood, gripping the table as she scowled up at the ceiling. “Festus! What the hell are Frank and Hedge doing to our ship?”

Festus let out some loud creaks and whistles that Percy knew Annabeth could only interpret half the time, but everyone understood when the big screens displaying Camp Half-Blood flickered. For one brief second, Percy’s heart froze in panic, terrified that he was about to be met with the decimation from his dream, but instead the screens came back online to the sight of a face. A very close face with a scraggly brown beard, crooked yellow teeth, and mismatched eyes that looked like they’d been placed by a drunk toddler playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey. For some bizarro reason that Percy couldn’t be bothered to even try and understand, he was also wearing a giant ten-gallon cowboy hat, only it was zebra print and had a neon green hatband. He grinned at them, showing off his unpleasantly inflamed gums, and the screen changed, this time to an overhead view of Hedge and Frank. Hedge was knocked out cold, and Frank was tangled up in a net and completely immobilized beside him. Percy watched as Frank desperately shifted from one animal to another, but each one seemed to tighten his bonds until they looked painful. 

Around them, another monster was dancing and clapping his hands like he was at a bonfire. Percy got the feeling they were brothers, seeing as they were identical, except this one had bright red fur and chose to accessorize with a rainbow feather boa. He was covered head to toe in patchy fur like some kind of mange-ridden monkey, but he had the proportions and doughy, lumpy face of one of those ugly garden gnomes. After blowing a particularly rude raspberry, he was joined by his brown-furred brother. They made odd little hand gestures at one another until the brown one withdrew something from the burlap sack and held it above his head, then they started whooping and clapping in delight. At first Percy thought they’d found a weird basketball, or some kind of experimental ballista ammo before he recognized it as the Archimedes Sphere.

“What are they doing?” Annabeth shrieked in outraged horror.

“They’re stealing Leo’s stuff!” Jason snarled. Without a second glance, he stormed out of the room.

Annabeth leapt to follow him, but then her gaze darted to where Hazel was frantically treating a groaning Nico. Percy stepped forward. “I’ll help Nico. You make sure Jason doesn’t do something crazy.” She nodded once, and then she was gone.

Percy immediately made his way to Nico’s side, and Hazel looked up at him gratefully. “Is he alright?”

“I dunno,” Hazel admitted fretfully. “He’s bleeding.”

Percy nodded. “C’mere, Nico. Let me get a good look at you.” Nico grumbled his discontent, but bowed his head so Percy could properly investigate the wound. He hissed softly when Percy found the tender spot, but there didn’t seem to be any sort of major injury. Percy tilted Nico’s chin up and snapped right in front of his nose. Then he held up his pointer finger and trailed it back and forth, watching carefully to see if Nico’s pupils were unevenly dilated, or if he was having trouble tracking the movement. “Alright, I think you’re going to live. Are you sleepy? Nauseous? Major headache or stiff neck?”

Nico groaned and gingerly touched the back of his head. “No, ‘m fine. What happened?”

“I think those might have been the dwarves Hecate mentioned,” Hazel said. 

“Great, so glad we got to meet the ugly side of Gimli’s family tree,” Percy snorted derisively. “No surprise Tolkein left them out of the books.”

Nico blinked at him slowly. “Tolkein? Dwarves? You mean, like, The Hobbit?”

“Uh, yeah,” Percy said, his eyebrows shooting up. “That’s the prequel, at least. He wrote three books after it. You know Lord of the Rings?”

Nico shook his head. “No, just The Hobbit. The others weren’t published, I guess.” He cut his gaze away. “Bianca liked it, and read it to me.”

Percy felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head at the mention of Bianca, just like always. He forced a smile. “Well, there’s three more books for you to catch up on and, like, a dozen movies. Me, Frank, and Hazel have movie nights sometimes; I can see if we can try and watch a few of them sometime. Annabeth refuses to watch them – apparently they’re an insult to battle strategy or something – but I’ve always liked them. I even managed to get through the books.”

Hazel’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she turned to Nico eagerly. He didn’t say anything for a moment, his lips pursed in a hard line before he nodded. “We’ll see.”

Percy felt his lips quirk up in half a smile. “We’ll see. Now, come on. I said your head injury wouldn’t kill you, but you still need Ambrosia and a nap.”

“I can’t think of a moment where I’ve known him when he didn’t need a nap,” Hazel piped up. Nico scowled at her, his cheeks dusting pink, and all Percy could do was laugh. 

Chapter Text

Annabeth’s mind raced as she chased after Jason, who had quite literally thundered out of the mess hall towards the top deck. She wracked her brain for anything that could be of use. Any mention of ugly, furry Dwarves who liked to steal things and wear stupid hats. There was something there, something nagging at the back of her mind, a story she’d heard, but one she couldn’t quite place.

“Where are they?” Jason snarled, whipping his head back and forth, eyes bright with fury, the moment they were out in the open. 

Annabeth looked around, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She saw Frank and Hedge tied up near the main mast, just like she’d seen in the viewing screen, but the Dwarves were gone, vanished into thin air. She almost wanted to believe they had just abandoned ship, but something told her she wasn’t half so lucky as that. No, years of training told her that she was being watched. “Jason, let’s–”

That’s when the pelting started. 

Back at Camp, every last one of the Cabins had wanted to offer their expertise when it came to getting the Argo II kitted out to the nines. The Apollo kids got the infirmary fully stocked, the Demeter cabin designed the kitchen, and the Ares cabin had gleefully added canons and spears to every inch they could get their hands on. The Hecate kids had actually teamed up with the Hephaestus cabin for their contribution (other than making the ship fly) and Annabeth was now terrified at the thought of a full-fledged alliance between them, and vowed to never be on the wrong side of Capture the Flag ever again. Using some twisted combination of mechanics and magic, the Hecate and Hephaestus kids had made a series of hand grenades that could do virtually anything, from flash-bangs to smoke bombs to shrapnel cover to popcorn fountains, complete with movie theater butter. Anything and everything, so long as the person throwing it wanted it bad enough.

Apparently, the Dwarves really wanted to see Annabeth and Jason covered in thick, green slime. The smell soon hit Annabeth’s sinuses, and she gagged violently while the red-furred Dwarf danced around and clapped his hands, cackling hysterically. 

Jason growled and tried to lunge, but the slime was too thick and sticky and he just fell to the ground. The Dwarf politely clapped again like he was watching professional golf, then jumped on Jason’s back and started rifling through his pockets. He soon unearthed Katoptris with a whoop, and Jason started writhing furiously. “Give that back, you stupid–”

He was cut off by the Dwarf stepping on the back of his head and pressing him face-first into the slime.

“Hey!” Annabeth shouted, trying to grab the Dwarf, but he just backflipped off Jason to land in a deep curtsey. Just then, the brown-furred Dwarf frolicked up to his brother, brandishing a familiar silver laptop, and the two of them started hooting and hollering their delight. Annabeth’s face paled and she started struggling even more furiously than before. “Give that back!”

The Dwarves turned as one and gave her wide, toothy grins that reminded Annabeth far too much of that time in first grade when she’d gone on a field trip to the zoo and been forever traumatized by a particularly malicious chimpanzee. They blew a pair of raspberries at her then skipped over to the nearest ballista. The red-furred one blew everyone on deck adoring kisses and sat himself in the ammunition hold, then kicked the leaver to send himself launching over Bologna. The other followed his lead, but he walked to the end of the arm, waving like a politician on parade, then stepped backwards off the end, tumbling out of sight.

The good thing about the Hecate/Hephaestus bombs was that because they relied so much on the Mist, their effects started to vanish as soon as the user was gone and there was nobody to believe in them anymore. That worked well for Annabeth, and she was soon able to free herself from the goo and rush to Frank’s side to check on him. He’d turned himself into a particularly frantic-looking gopher, and he stared up at her with wide, glassy eyes. He seemed relatively unharmed, though, and she started trying to untangle him from the net. “Don’t worry, Frank; we’ll get you out. Just like the finger handcuffs, okay?” He just chittered at her. 

Before she could properly get him free, though, there was a loud clap of thunder and Annabeth looked up to see that Jason had managed to free himself from the slime as well, though he obviously had no interest in Frank and Hedge. He was trembling from head to toe, and Annabeth could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d seen someone get that angry. “I’m gonna kill those Dwarves,” he spat, eyes flashing dangerously. Without a second glance, he hopped the railing, taking his thunderstorm of fury with him on his warpath to Bologna.

Annabeth glanced at Frank, but he just whipped his head back and forth from Annabeth’s face to where Jason had just disappeared as if to say, Well? You can’t just let him go off alone like that! She grit her teeth and got to her feet, stepping up to the railing so she could look out over Bologna. She could still see Jason, he wasn’t too far away, but he was out of earshot, and that was if he was willing to listen. She didn’t have a way down there, and definitely not a way that would let her catch up to Jason before he did something they’d all wind up regretting. No, the only thing that could catch Jason was Jason. With time quickly running out and her only option flying away at top speed, there was only one thing left to do, and that meant it was time for Annabeth to take a serious gamble.

She sucked in a deep breath and jumped over the side. 

Annabeth would admit that this wasn’t her best plan, not that it was really much of a plan at all. It was objectively stupid to jump out of an airborne ship with nothing more than the hope that a half-mad son of Jupiter would notice her falling, stop his rampage, and catch her. Still, she was learning that not everything had to be smart, and sometimes you just had to have faith, and she had faith that Jason – loyal, dependable Jason – wouldn’t let her fall.

Thankfully, she’d been right, though the look on Jason’s face made her think he wished she’d been wrong.

“Damn it, we lost them,” Jason growled, kicking a rock so hard it nearly decapitated a hapless pigeon. “I almost had them.”

Annabeth didn’t apologize because she wasn’t sorry, but part of her did feel a little guilty. Instead of saying that, she squinted up at the Argo II and ran some calculations in her head. “The ballista shot that red one this way. Let’s go.” She noticed Jason’s hand move to his side where he usually kept Katoptris before he clenched his fist. “We’ll find them and get Piper and Leo’s stuff back. Don’t worry.”

Jason made an agitated snort-huff sound and stomped down the road in the direction she’d pointed. “I know we will.”

So far, Annabeth’s half-panicked plan of Follow Jason to make sure he doesn’t level a European city looking for Dwarves was going well, though she couldn’t say much for the mental well-being of the local fauna they passed. Fortunately, Jason’s anger actually worked out for keeping the mortals safe, seeing as an ugly stormcloud was brewing overhead, sending everyone ducking inside for cover before the rain could start. She was glad for that, seeing as she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d explain it if someone saw Jason’s sparking palms or the golden sword he kept at the ready.

Annabeth couldn’t help but grit her teeth in frustration. It seemed like since Rome everything had gone out of its way to ruin any plan she could come up with. She couldn’t get her crew across the mountains without a goddess holding her hand, she couldn’t figure out how to get the Archimedes Sphere to cooperate, she couldn’t activate the stupid statue she’d sold her friends for, and now she couldn’t do anything to help Jason other than chase after him and hope she’d figure it out.  

Annabeth could think on her feet, every demigod had to get good at it if they wanted to survive, but she’d never liked it. She was a planner, a strategist, and she liked going into the unknown with a plan for every variable, but she’d been on her heels for days now. She’d been forced into a reactionary role, winging it just about every moment and hoping for the best, and she hated it. 

She also didn’t particularly like just dwelling on things, not that she could really stop herself. Dwelling on things didn’t actually help the situation, and more often than not, it actively put everyone involved at risk and forced you to make stupid mistakes and miss obvious clues. Case in point: she was so caught up in her thoughts about not being good enough that she almost didn’t notice the statue. 

It shouldn’t have been anything of note, really. Pretty much every old city they’d come across had been filled to the brim with all manner of statues for the gods, and Bologna had been no different so far. Despite that, there was something about this particular statue that drew her attention, and she couldn’t take her eyes off it. The fountain before her was completely nude, much like all of the others they’d passed, with his pelvis thrust out like he had something to be proud of. He was surrounded by all sorts of waves and other sea imagery, and Annabeth actually averted her gaze, cheeks growing warm because she thought it was Poseidon. Or, Neptune, rather. 

Then she paused and looked back at it, eyes narrowed. The statue wasn’t holding a trident, nor did it have any of Neptune’s other symbols anywhere. More importantly, the man depicted didn’t look anything like Percy. She tugged on Jason’s shirt hem and gestured at the Latin etched at the base of the fountain. “What does that say?”

Jason turned on her with a scowl, obviously displeased at the distraction, however momentary. “Pater omnium fluminum,” he said in a clipped tone. “It means ‘father of all rivers.”

Annabeth’s brows knit. “Is that a title given to Neptune? I’ve never heard it used for Poseidon.”

“No, I don’t think so. What does it matter?”

Father of all rivers, she thought, cocking her head to the side. Her frown deepened. “Wait, do you think it’s Oceanus? He’s the father of most of the minor river gods. But that doesn’t make sense. Why would they put up a statue of Oceanus? It’s not like he’s that important.”

“What does it matter?” Jason repeated. “Look, can we go? The longer we stay here the longer it’s going to take to– Annabeth!”

Annabeth hopped into the fountain, ignoring his increasingly frustrated calls. She waded through the knee-deep water to get a better look at the statue. To the naked eye, it just looked like a statue. Perfectly carved stone, chipped and weathered by thousands of years, but otherwise flawlessly smooth. But Annabeth knew better. She’d spent too much time with the Athena Parthenos and the Archimedes Sphere to not recognize when something was more than it appeared. It wasn’t completely magical, like the Parthenos, or completely mechanical like the Sphere. It was some odd mix of the two that made the hair on the  back of her neck stand straight up. 

“There’s something going on with this thing,” she reported. “I can’t figure out what it is, but I don’t like it.”

“Who cares?” Jason snapped. “Who cares if there’s some magical statue of Oceanus? It could be a fully decked-out Transformer and I could not give less of a shit.”

“Hey, now, that’s no way to speak of our father!”

Annabeth whirled around and the first thing she saw was a ten-gallon zebra print cowboy hat. Then, of course, she saw the brown-furred Dwarf sitting at a nearby table, using his prehensile toes to sip at a tiny cup of espresso. He locked eyes with her, and she could see from across the plaza that one of his pupils was significantly more dilated than the other. 

“He’s got a good idea, though.” She whipped her head up to see the other Dwarf hanging upside down from the Oceanus statue, face covered in crumbs from the giant muffin he was devouring. “Imagine if dear old dad could turn into a fighting robot.”

“Or a Maserati!” the first said. He was now standing mere inches behind Jason, who startled and jumped back into a fighting stance with a snarl. “I’d love a Maserati!”

“Give me our stuff back,” Jason growled, his voice dripping with menace. “Or I’m gonna–”

He was cut off by the red-furred Dwarf backflipping off the statue and landing on his shoulders before using him as a springboard. He landed a few feet away and turned to Jason, waggling his finger. “You’re going to wait your turn is what you’re going to do! We haven’t even introduced ourselves.”

The brown Dwarf clucked his tongue in disappointment. “And here I thought the Romans were supposed to be the mannered ones.”

Jason looked like he was about to pounce on the Dwarves, so Annabeth cut in, quickly splashing through the water to get back to street level. “Our apologies,” she said, bowing, though she was careful to keep her eye on them both. “Please, introduce yourselves, by all means.”

“I like her!” the red one clapped. “We are the Kerkopes! Our names are Passalos and Akmon!”

 “Or Olus and Eurybatus!” the brown one added.

“Or Sillus and Triballus!”

“Or Andulus and Atlantus!” 

“Or Candulus and Atlas!” 

“We have a lot of names,” the brown one, who Annabeth assumed was Akmon, concluded. “We have to keep changing them, unfortunately.”

“We’re on the run,” Passalos added. “People keep getting mad when we steal their stuff. Nobody can ever take a joke.”

“Except Black Bottom!” Akmon argued. “He thought we were very funny!”

“Ooh, yes! I loved Black Bottom! Should we pay him a visit, brother?”

“It sounds like you two have certainly made a name for yourselves,” Annabeth agreed. “Well, I am Annabeth Chase–”

“Chase?” Passalos interrupted, perking up. 

“Now there’s an idea!” Akmon crowed. “We love chase!”

“Hey, now!” Annabeth protested. “Don’t you–”

“Let’s see what we can get this to do first!” Akmon said, whipping out the Archimedes Sphere from seemingly nowhere. 

He started pushing buttons and cranking gears and Annabeth’s chest filled with dread. “Be careful with that! Do you have any idea what–”

Fortunately, Akmon didn’t get a chance to damage the Sphere, because the sight of him treating Leo’s prized possession like a toy was apparently a step too far for Jason, and he shot forward on a blast of wind, tackling the Dwarf to the ground. The Sphere flew out of his hands and rolled between Annabeth’s feet and she snatched it up, possessively cradling it to her chest. Passalos bounded towards her, but she whipped out her knife and he skidded to a stop, eyes crossing to keep sight of the blade pressed to the tip of his nose. “Don’t even think about it.”

Akmon managed to squirm out of Jason’s hold with an outraged cry. “Oooh, awful Roman!” he wailed. “He stole my shiny!”

“Quit your sniveling!” Passalos chided, leaping to his side. “You still have the laptop at least.”

“It’s not the same!” Akmon sniffled. “Not nearly as shiny.”

“Then maybe you ought to have sticky fingers instead of butterfingers,” his brother chided. “Now come on! The girl said chase, remember!”

“I suppose…”

Passalos turned to Annabeth, giving her one of those awful monkey smiles where his lips curled back so far she could see his gums. “Say hello to father dearest for us!”

They scurried down the street, and Annabeth took a step after them, but she heard a quiet thump and her eyes went wide. “Get down!”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough, and there was a sharp whistling sound in the air, followed by some of the most furious Latin cursing Annabeth had ever heard in her life. She whipped her head up to see Jason strung up in the same net that had ensnared Frank, hanging from the Oceanus statue like a piñata. She scrambled towards him, but before she had even taken a step in his direction, he looked at her, his eyes bright and blazing with fury. “Get them!”

She nodded sharply and turned on her heel, racing after them without a second thought. 

Annabeth was running through the streets of Bologna when her brain finally caught up and she remembered the story of the Dwarves. The Kerkopes were a pair of brothers – maybe twins? She wasn’t sure and she doubted if Akmon and Passalos remembered or even cared – born of Theia and Oceanus, who terrorized the land of Lydia with their thievery and mischief. They ran from place to place, causing as many problems as they could as quickly as they could, until they stumbled upon Heracles. They stole his weapons, but he soon caught them and hung them upside down from a shoulder pole, then carried them around as punishment. Heracles did eventually let them go, amused by their jokes, but then they crossed paths with Zeus who turned them into monkeys. She would have loved to have had this information before storming right into an ambush (twice, might she add) but help that arrived late was better than help that never arrived at all.

Not that it was even all that helpful in the first place. The myths never really went into detail about just how Heracles managed to trap them, everyone just assumed that he used his strength to overpower them. Honestly, even if the myths did go into utmost detail about the ins and outs of the capture, it wouldn't matter because that wasn’t how Annabeth worked. She wasn’t blessed with the might of Zeus, so she couldn’t just go barreling in, guns blazing and relying on brute force. She and Jason had done a fantastic job of making that point very clear. 

She wracked her brain as she made her way through the twisting, narrow streets and alleys, and she couldn’t stop fiddling with the Sphere in her hands. She wasn’t paying much attention to what she was doing, which probably wasn't a great idea, seeing as the only feature she could reliably call on was an obnoxious alarm that screamed “COME GET YOUR DISTRACTED DEMIGOD DINNER HERE” but she figured it didn't matter that much. She had no doubt that the Kerkopes knew exactly where she was. 

Besides, the Sphere actually felt good in her hands when she wasn't fixating on it. Her mind drifted back to the last time she'd gone to California to visit her dad and step-family. Matthew and Bobby had been practically giddy with excitement to present her with the gift they’d used their saved allowance to get her for her birthday. It had been a large puzzle box made of solid olive wood with an owl carved neatly on the top that was supposed to open in six different ways. She'd fought with the thing for hours, growing ever more frustrated until that evening after dinner, she'd been watching TV with the boys and everything just clicked into place, and the first drawer had popped open. From that moment on, unlocking the secrets of her puzzle had been a breeze, one step flowing into the next like clockwork. Even once she'd figured it all out, she couldn’t help but admire it – it was still a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, after all – and she had it proudly displayed on a shelf in her cabin back at Camp. 

As if sensing and rewarding her thoughts, the Sphere in her hands suddenly blossomed, bits and pieces unfolding from one another to reveal a little hidden compartment the size of her fist, a quiet jubilant trumpet sounding her triumph. She paused and held it up to eye level and studied it. She'd always thought of the Sphere as something similar to an engine, something that served a purpose and did its job without any messing about. But engines didn't need to be covered in lovingly etched designs. Engines didn't need to have a stubborn streak or a sense of humor. Engines didn’t need to have little mechanical flowers that bloomed when someone finally got the hint.

A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You really are a work of art, aren't you?” Predictably, it didn’t say anything back, but she could trick herself into thinking it felt a little warmer in her hands.

Not that she really had time to think about that too much, seeing as she was at the base of a watch tower. She held a hand up to her forehead to shade her eyes, and, sure enough, there were the Kerkopes. They were about halfway up the side, and when they noticed her, they did a little dance on the outcropping they’d made themselves at home on before scurrying the rest of the way up and ducking into the open window. Subtle. Not suspicious at all. Great. 

Unfortunately, Jason wasn’t there to just fly her up to the top, considering he was probably still hanging out with Oceanus, which meant that she was just going to have to climb the stairs herself. 

But, she thought to herself as she watched a man come out of a nearby store with a grocery bag, that didn’t mean she had to hurry. The Kerkopes wanted to play? Fine then, but she was sick and tired of playing their game. If they wanted to toy with her, she was going to change the rules to suit her, and at that moment, she really wanted to play the Waiting Game. She casually strolled into the grocery store, walking up and down the aisles. Right at the front of the store was a display of brightly-colored cording, and her mind immediately flashed back to the tunnels under Rome and her frantic weaving. She gave an involuntary full-body shudder and quickly walked on. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what it was she was after, until she stumbled upon a display of soda, bright red Coke on one side and bright blue Pepsi on the other. She picked up a bottle and immediately thought of Baccus and Mr. D, and how they were so similar and yet so different. In all honesty, it made sense that the gods were different between their Greek and Roman forms, but it was a concept that hadn’t truly clicked until she met Bacchus in Kansas. 

But not everyone met Bacchus back in Kansas, a little voice in her head reminded her, and a grin slowly curled across her lips. She picked up a bottle of soda and headed back towards the front of the store, a plan already bubbling in the back of her mind. 

The Kerkopes were waiting for her when she strolled in, casually sipping her Coke, and they were obviously unhappy. 

“Well, I suppose we did get her to climb the tower,” Akmon said petulantly. “She certainly took her time about it, though!”

“For a girl named Chase, she’s not very fast,” Passalos agreed.

Annabeth hummed and looked at them, then shot her eyebrows up like she was surprised to see them. “Oh! I wasn’t actually expecting you guys to still be here. I had assumed you came here to surrender our stuff and then flee while you still could.”

Akmon and Passalos traded a look, and Annabeth was glad that finally she wasn’t the confused one. “Why would we do that?” Passalos demanded. “We stole your stuff fair and square!”

“Even if you did steal it back like a dirty thief,” Akmon huffed, eyeing the Sphere still tucked under her arm. She stayed as relaxed as she could, but she did unsheath her knife, just in case. The Dwarf pouted, but shrunk away.

“I just figured you two had realized who exactly the enemy you made was, and gave up,” she said casually. “Jason Grace, son of Jupiter. Not exactly the kind of guy you want on your tail, you know. Trust me, it’s going to take a lot more than a couple name changes to shake him.” 

“Oh please!” Passalos scoffed. “Son of the sky god? That doesn’t scare us! Black Bottom was the son of the sky god!”

“Black Bottom, yeah, I think I know him,” she hummed. “Tell me, what, exactly, was his name again?”

“Heracles, of course!”

Annabeth sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and gave them pitying looks. “I was afraid you’d say that. Heracles is the son of Zeus, not Jupiter.”

“Zeus, Jupiter, what’s the difference?” Akmon scoffed. “One in the same, if you ask me!”

Annabeth blinked at them owlishly for a moment before she doubled over in hysterical giggling. “Oh, that must be one of your jokes! No wonder Heracles let you go! You two are a riot.”

Akmon looked about ready to tear his fur out, conflicted over whether or not it was okay to be laughed at if he was the butt of the joke. He stamped his foot, apparently having decided it was not okay. “They are the same!”

Annabeth sobered immediately and arched her eyebrows. “You must not know anything about Romans, in that case.” The Dwarves exchanged another glance, this time a little nervous, especially when she grinned at them. “You’ve met Zeus, right? He’s the one who turned you into monkeys. Imagine him but worse. Jupiter is petty, he’s vindictive, he’s powerful, but worst of all, he’s angry.

“And his favorite demigod son? The one you’ve made your enemy?” she paused for emphasis, and right on cue thunder boomed loud and menacing outside. “He takes after his father.”

There was silence for a moment, two, then panic.

“What do we do?” Passalos chittered, clenching his cowboy hat in his hands. “We’re doomed!”

“We flee!” Akmon said. “Grab all of the shinies and run for the hills!”

“Run?” Annabeth scoffed. “You think you can outrun him? He was trained by the wolf goddess Lupa herself. Do you have any idea how far a wolf will go to hunt down their prey?”

The Dwarves looked like they were going to cry. “What do we do?” Passalos wailed, clinging to the hem of her shirt. “Chasing Girl, what do we do?”

Annabeth tapped her chin in thought for a moment, then held up the Sphere. “Do you two even know what this thing does?” 

Akmon shook his head. “No! It was just shiny!”

“Well, it’s a magical item, blessed by the Fates themselves, and it provides the user with the thing they need the most,” she lied. “Here, watch and I’ll show you.” She held out the Sphere and pushed a few buttons. The Kerkopes watched, mystified, as the Sphere bloomed with a quiet little fanfare to reveal the item hidden within.

“A rope?” Akmon said, holding up the length of cord Annabeth had purchased. “What do we need rope for?”

“A trap!” Passalos yelped. “Of course we should set a trap for Mean Bottom!”

“I wouldn’t risk it. You might wind up making him angrier,” Annabeth warned. “What did you do with Heracles when you met him? Other than jokes, I mean. Jason doesn’t really have much of a sense of humor, especially not when someone takes his stuff.”

The Kerkopes didn’t look thrilled to be reliving the memory, but eventually Passalos caved. “He tied us up and carried us around on a stick for a whole month.”

“We’ve never lived it down,” Akmon added. “It’s the only way we were ever depicted! Hanging from that damned stick.”

“That must be it!” Annabeth said, snapping her fingers. “Jupiter’s about balance. About justice. You angered Zeus’s favorite demigod son by stealing his stuff, and he forgave you after tying you up. Now you’ve angered Jupiter’s favorite demigod son by stealing his stuff, so the Fates are telling you to complete the cycle!”

They still didn’t look entirely convinced but they didn’t need to because at that exact moment a clap of thunder shook the watchtower down to the supporting beams, and Jason blasted in through the window like a superhero, complete with lightning sparking all around him. “Where are they?” he snarled, his voice darker and more menacing than the storm clouds that surrounded them. 

Instantly, he was swarmed by tearful Dwarves holding out their hands and offering him a rope. “Tie us up, please!” Akmon sniffled. “Whatever you want!”

“Oh, just please don’t hunt us!” Passalos begged. “We don’t want to run again!”

Jason was so startled that his anger actually simmered away for a moment. “Um. Okay.” The Kerkopes cheered in relief as he quickly tied them both up like rodeo cattle. Then he turned to Annabeth, clearly perplexed. “What’s going on?”

“I just took part in a little boasting on your behalf, nothing major,” she said breezily as she looked through a nearby pile of stuff. She quickly unearthed Daedalus’s Laptop and Katoptris, then handed the blade over to Jason.

“Hey!” Akmon protested while Passalos chittered in support. “We said you could tie us up! We didn’t say anything about you stealing our shinies!”

Jason let out a loud growl and shut them both up.

Annabeth kept looking through the pile until she came across something that didn’t exactly look like it belonged, considering it was covered in splotches of green tarnish. It looked like some sort of contraption, a cross between a spherical astrolabe, a sextant, and a compass, and when she pressed a button, the little globe in the center popped open. She held it up for the Dwarves to see. “What is this?”

“No idea,” Passalos admitted. “We just stole it because it used to be shiny.”

“It’s for navigating, made by Odyseus!” Akmon added. “Never worked though. Broken from the start. He said it needed a crystal, but he forgot to get one.”

“We’ve tried adding crystals, though, and it still doesn’t work!” Passalos complained. “He went mad in his later years, you know. Always wandering around his house and muttering about how he’ll never find his way back to help her.”

“What about this?” Jason asked. Annabeth looked over to see that he was holding a small leather book about the size of his palm. It was just as remarkably unshiny as the device she found, considering it only had a few gold embellishments, all of which had long lost their luster. 

The Kerkopes looked terrified. “Oh, please don’t take that one!” Akmon begged. “If he finds out we stole it, we’ll be doomed!”

“You’ll be doomed if you try to keep it from Jason,” Annabeth reminded them. Jason looked a little startled at the claim, but luckily he managed to keep his mouth shut. “Now, what is this, and who is this ‘he’ you stole it from?”

“It’s an almanac,” Passalos pouted. “And we stole it from a minor god. In Venice. Can’t pronounce his name.”

Jason looked interested in that, and he gave Annabeth a look. “Venice? That’s where we’re headed next, right? What do you say we drop by and return some lost property?”

“You can’t!” Akmon shrieked. “If you tell him we took it–”

Before he could finish, Jason had his sword drawn, its Imperial Gold blade digging slightly into the underside of the Dwarf’s chin. His voice was deadly cold and even when he said, “Tell me what I can’t do one more time.”

“We won’t tell him where we got it,” Annabeth promised. “We’ll just say we found it somewhere like… Barcelona or something. We just need to know where to find him.”

“L-La Casa Nera,” Passalos stammered, eying the sword still at his brother’s neck. “Calle Frezzeria.”

Annabeth gave him a winning smile. “Thank you.”

Jason snorted, then straightened his posture and looked at the Dwarves in disgust. “Well, now what? What should we do with these two?”

“You can just let us go!” Passalos suggested.

“And I can send you both to Tartarus.”

The Kerkopes squeaked in fear and shrank down, and Annabeth couldn’t help but feel a twinge of genuine pity for them. They were annoying, and more than a little bit of a nuisance, but they weren’t evil and they were far from the worst monsters she’d ever faced. Still, it didn’t feel like her call to make. “Well, they’re indebted to you for a month, to match their time with Heracles.” She gave them both a hard look. “Right?” They nodded furiously.

Jason considered them for a moment. “You two… you like playing pranks, right? Harassing people, stealing their stuff?”

“Ooh, yes!” Akmon cheered. “We love to steal! We’ll steal from anyone you want!”

“And harassment as well!” Passalos added. “Free of charge.”

Jason looked down at them, and they beamed back up at him, wearing a matching pair of grins that spelled trouble and mischief. For the briefest second Jason’s eyes flashed to fondness then grief before he tightened his jaw. “Okay, well, there’s some people I need you to go after. You can do anything you want to slow them down, but you can’t harm any of them. Got it?”

“Got it!”

“Whatever you want, Mean Bottom!”

Jason’s eyebrow twitched in agitation. “I need you two to go to New York.”

Passalos cocked his head to the side. “What’s in New York?”

“Lots of fun,” Annabeth promised, a wide grin curling up her cheeks as she looked Jason over, more than a little impressed. “For you two, at least.”

Chapter Text

The first time Leo ran away from a foster family was when he was ten years old. He'd been in a few before that, but none of them had been a "good fit" for him. Apparently, not everyone was up to the challenge of handling a traumatized eight-year-old who occasionally went into full Spanish-mode during a panic attack when he'd spent too long thinking about his mother who had died at his hands. Some families were cruel, some were just overwhelmed, but none of them thought Leo was worth the effort.

The Bagerlys weren't like that, though. Tom and Maryanne were a little on the older side, and had been in the foster business for years, and they were pros at it. They had a big old ranch-style home that desperately needed filling, and when they'd realized they couldn't start a family of their own, they opened their doors to anyone who had lost theirs. The Bagerlys were kind and patient with their house full of misfit foster kids whom they adored and who loved them right back. Tom would always smile that soft, quiet smile at Leo and ask if he wanted to go out in the big yard where Tom would teach him about running a farm and camping. In the evenings, Maryanne would call Leo over to her side and pull up a stool so he could watch her make dinner with wide, mystified eyes while he said silly little things just to make her laugh. He still longed for his Mamá and cried himself to sleep more nights than not — of course he did, he probably always would — but his heart ached for love and a place to call home, and the Baggerlys offered it to him on a silver platter with warm, gentle smiles. He didn't think his Mamá would mind too much if he let them love him.

Naturally, right as Leo finally decided things were okay, that he was allowed to want this and, more importantly, to have it, everything was ruined.

It was late at night and Leo was creeping down to the kitchen to sneak another one of the snickerdoodles he and Maryanne had made that afternoon, seeking any sort of comfort he could give himself after the nightmare he'd woken up from, when he overheard it. Maryanne and Tom were talking together in the study, which wasn’t odd in and of itself; the study was designated to be the Grown Up Zone, after all. However, what was odd was the fact that the door was half open, and the phone was on speaker, so every word fell on Leo's ears, crystal clear and cutting like knives.

"You wouldn't be the first family who called asking for a reassignment," a lady's voice sighed over the phone. Leo recognized it as his caseworker, a tired, irritable woman named Ms. Stanton who always seemed eager to get rid of Leo as quickly as possible. "Unfortunately, Leo is one of our more troubled cases."

"He's just so… needy," Maryanne fretted, the last word coming out of her mouth like it tasted like a lemon. "And, ooh, I hate to say that about a child, but it's true."

"Kid's always underfoot," Tom agreed in that quiet, gruff voice of his. "Can't hardly do anything with any of the others without him just starin' up at you."

"Don't worry, you don't have to explain yourselves, I've heard it all before," Ms. Stanton said soothingly. "I can arrange to come pick him up Friday, would that be alright?"

"Can't you come any sooner than that?" Maryanne asked. "I mean I hate to be a bother, but well… Friday's just a bit long to wait, isn't it?"

It's already Tuesday, Leo thought to himself, and somehow that was the thing that hurt the most. The fact that they didn't even want to put up with him for another two days. His eyes were stinging with tears, and his chest felt hollow and cold, but he didn't let himself cry. Instead, he swallowed thickly and made his silent trek to the kitchen.

He quickly gathered as much food and supplies as he could think to carry and stashed it in his backpack, which was left by the back door with all the other kids' school stuff. Then, he took off into the night. If Maryanne and Tom didn't want to put up with him, he wasn't going to make them suffer his presence for a second longer than he had to. He certainly wasn't going to just wait around for them to decide to get rid of him.

Unfortunately, what he'd failed to consider was that it was August in Texas, and the Bagerlys' house was a good twenty miles to the nearest gas station, much less town. Leo was walking for three straight days, following the road at a far enough distance that none of the drivers would actually notice him walking along unless they were looking for him. His feet were soon covered in blisters and his skin was itchy with heat rash and every muscle in his body ached with pain and exhaustion. Every night he curled up around his backpack and cried, hoping against hope that the next day Maryanne and Tom would drive up beside him in that beat up blue pickup truck Tom loved so much and welcome him with open arms and tearful apologies, telling him they'd realized the error of their ways and they loved him and they wanted him to come home.

Nobody ever came looking for him.

Instead, he was found, quite by accident, when some lady had randomly decided to take her dog on a daybreak run through the woods and stumbled upon his pitiful little campsite. He'd been taken into police custody and escorted to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with heat stroke and dehydration, then hooked up to an IV drip for a night of observation. The next morning, Ms. Stanton came into his room, looking incredibly disappointed in him, and told him that he would be going to a group home for a few weeks while she figured out what to do with him. He didn't cry when she'd told him that, even though he'd wanted to. Instead, he grit his teeth and told himself that if he could handle walking along a Texas highway by himself for three days, he could handle anything, and he kept that mantra. No matter how awful things got, they never quite managed to top those three miserable, lonely, days, and if he could do that, he could take whatever this world had to throw at him.

Unfortunately, that mantra was now null and void, as Leo had found himself a new Worst Walk Of My Life.

He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that at least he wasn't stuck here alone, but it did little to help. He wasn't walking alone, but he also wasn't walking along a road in Texas after getting his feelings hurt. No, he was walking through Tartarus — literal hell, which he was sure his Aunt Rosa would find some bitter satisfaction in — along a river of fire that he had to periodically drink because the air itself was trying to kill him. Piper was great, he loved her to bits, but no amount of company was going to make all that okay.

He was about to ask Piper if they could stop and take a load off, and maybe have a few refreshing sips of Phlegethon Soup, but there was a loud nearby comotion and they both froze. It was footsteps, but footsteps unlike anything Leo had ever heard. They were weirdly uneven, one a semi-normal thump and the other the heavy clunk of a large hunk of metal hitting the floor. Along with it was a chorus of voices, though they were muffled and too full of hissing sounds for Leo to make out any of the actual words.

Piper's eyes widened and she glanced from Leo to where they had heard the sound. With a silent quirk of her eyebrow, she asked, Do you think it's a monster?

Leo gestured around, equally silent. Well, we are literally in their house.

Fair point. Piper didn't wait for a response, she just crept over to the outcropping of rock to investigate. Leo pulled a face and followed her. Once he peeked his head over the edge, he caught sight of their quarry, and he understood why their footsteps sounded so odd. It was a group of seven monster ladies, four of them older and wearing tattered versions of those Greek dresses all the goddess statues at Camp were dressed in, and the other three were wearing more modern-looking clothes. They all had fiery — literally — red hair, and one single donkey leg and one made out of solid bronze. Somehow, though, none of that scared Leo until the leader opened her mouth and spoke.

"I told you guys I know where we're going!" one of the younger girls said, and Leo couldn't help but shudder. He knew that voice. Well, okay, not that voice in particular, but he'd been bullied by enough cheerleaders to know when he was in imminent danger. "It's just going to take, like, three days to get there. Ohmigods, you guys are so lame."

"Three days is what you said yesterday and the day before that," one of the older ladies hissed. "I'm beginning to think you don't know where you're going." The other ladies in dresses started muttering their agreement, and the two modern girls shared a nervous glance.

Cheer Captain didn't care, she just scoffed so derisively Leo didn't need to see her face to know she'd rolled her eyes. "Ohmigods, I said like three days! Like! Don't you even know what that means, Sara?"

Dress Lady's flaming hair flared up in agitation. "Serephone," she corrected in a clipped tone.

"Literally whatever," Cheer Captain said with another audible eye roll. "Besides, Serephone, it's not like you could lead us to the Doors of Death. When was the last time you were even on the surface, the Byzantine Empire?"

There was some more sounds of protest, but Piper and Leo had heard enough, so they scurried back to the relative safety of the Phlegethon. "So, Pipes, did you happen to learn about those nasty things in your Sapphic Study Sessions?"

"I think so," Piper said slowly. "They're empousai. They're kinda like vampires."

Leo pulled another face. "Vampires with donkey legs?”

“To be fair, they only have one donkey leg.”

“Oh, my apologies. Vampires with one donkey leg?”

Piper shrugged. "They can shapeshift and manipulate the Mist and use Charmspeak, too. Plus there's the whole blood-sucking thing. That's pretty vampire-y."

Leo wanted to argue that it was also pretty Chupecabra-y, too, but he decided it didn't matter. "They also know where the Doors of Death are. Well, Cheer Captain says she does, at least."

Piper nodded, then paused and cocked her head to the side. "Annabeth said that she and Percy met an empousai once. One named Kelli, who was masquerading as a cheerleader. What’s the likelihood that…"

"We meet some monster or another that Percy and or Annabeth and or Jason has killed down here?" Leo finished. "Based on their kill count, I'd say very, very high."

Piper grimaced like she hadn't wanted to hear that, which was fair because Leo hadn't enjoyed saying it. Still, she gestured over her shoulder in the direction that the empousai had gone. "Come on. Might as well follow them. Worst case scenario, at least we get to go to a pep-rally."

"Woo," Leo said in the absolute most deadpan tone he could muster. "School spirit. Let's go team."

Keeping up with the donkey-vampires was blessedly easy, all things considered. Leo and Piper were forced to stay pretty close to the Phlegethon, seeing as the air was still trying to kill them, so they couldn’t see the group – herd? pack? pride? business? – of empousai, but it didn’t really matter because Cheer Captain refused to shut up for even a moment. None of her lackeys ever replied, so Leo got the feeling she was just talking to hear the sound of her own voice, but it was convenient because that particular nasally Valley Girl tone always carried. At one point, the empousai stumbled across something and called for an impromptu lunch break. Based on the sounds coming from the other side of the ridge, it was something nice and fleshy for them to sink their fangs into. Leo was glad he couldn’t see them.

They’d been walking for what Leo guessed was about two hours and forty minutes (he could predict the passing of time and either get it right within five minutes, or he was off by several hours. There was no in between.) when he caught a glance at Piper. Her shoulders were slack, and her eyes were glassy and fogged with exhaustion and terror and grief. He swallowed thickly, and thought back to all the times he’d seen her look like that in the past, and how he’d always sidled up to her with a stupid joke and held her until her face lit up with mirth. He chewed his lip and looked away from her before he took a deep, calming breath and came to a stop. “Piper?”

She didn’t verbally respond at first, likely trying to save her breath, but she did turn and face him. When she saw his serious expression, her eyebrows knit together in concern and she frowned. “Yeah, Leo? What’s up?”

“Can I– Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, turning his head, unable to look her in the eye at the moment. “Something that’s probably going to change how you feel about me.”

Piper made a soft, encouraging sound and reached out to grab his hand. She squeezed his fingers until he looked at her, and when he did he saw nothing but loyalty and support and love shining from her eyes. “Leo, you followed me into literal hell,” she said gently. “There’s nothing you could say that would ever change how I feel about you.”

He smiled back at her and squeezed her fingers. “Alright, just-just promise you won’t hate me after this.” He took another deep breath and he couldn’t manage to smother the way his lips curled up in a shit-eating grin. “I think it’s kinda hot when Jason does his whole feral wolf-boy schtick.”

Piper stared at him, blinking owlishly for a moment before her eyes went somehow wider. She let out a quiet scream that was cut with wheezing laughter. “I hate you!”

Leo couldn’t help but giggle along with her. Suddenly, he was reminded of those months they'd spent together in Wilderness where they had buoyed each other through every awful thing the school had to throw at them with stupid jokes and shared laughter. This was obviously much, much worse than anything those teachers could have come up with, but the principle of the matter remained. “I literally just told you to not hate me, what the hell? What happened to support? To loyalty, Piper? What happened to nothing changing how you feel about me?”

“Turns out there was one thing,” she corrected, collecting herself with a few steady breaths. When she was upright, she slugged him in the arm. “Don’t do that again. We're supposed to be sneaking, remember?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because everyone is going to hear your witch cackling over the tortured screams of the damned.”

Piper just shoved him and kept on walking. They didn’t get too much farther, though, because the ground suddenly ended in a sheer cliff face. Leo peered over the edge to see that their empousai guides were scaling the wall with utmost ease, which Leo thought was pretty impressive, considering one of their legs was just a stiff hunk of bronze. They were quickly pulling ahead, but Leo wasn’t too concerned, considering that beyond the smattering of boulders at the base of the cliff was just a vast expanse of perfectly flat land that would be difficult to lose someone in. Unfortunately, that also meant that there would be nowhere to hide, but that was a problem for Future Leo, and, honestly, fuck him. Present Leo had his own shit to worry about.

“You think you can make another hang glider thing?” Piper suggested.

Leo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Bad idea.” He gestured up at the swarms of winged demons of every shape and size that clogged the weird, cavernous sky. “Even if I could make a hang glider that would support us, we’d get taken out immediately.” He let out a deep, heavy sigh. “I wish Jason was here.”

The look Piper shot him was equal parts suspicious and disgusted. “You would say that, wouldn’t you? What, you wanna watch him do some Bear Grylls shit and climb down shirtless and barehanded or something?”

Leo chuckled, feeling his cheeks heat up a little, but he mostly ignored it. “Not for that! Though, I mean, if he wanted to I wouldn’t exactly say no or any–”

“Leo!”

He shook his head. “No, for real, I mean with his Superman powers, he could just float us down to the bottom without exposing ourselves to open air. Without him, we’re gonna have to do things the old fashioned way.”

“The old fashioned way?”

“Yup.” He reached into his tool belt and pulled out a 200-foot extension cord, which wasn’t exactly what he was after, but would definitely work. “You liked the climbing wall at Camp, right?”

Remarkably, Leo was actually able to get some decent makeshift climbing gear from his toolbelt. The harnesses (a pair of creatively interpreted hi-vis vests) were just tied to the extension cord, and their belay devices were some strap hitches that Leo picked apart and stuck back together, and there obviously wasn’t any safety gear, but Leo was, in general, pretty proud of himself. He suddenly sent up a silent thank you to Nyssa for all those times she’d thrown him over her shoulder and carried him out of Bunker Nine to actually participate in Camp activities. 

That wasn’t to say that it was easy, of course. The climbing wall at Camp had sort of lost its main challenge mode once Leo realized he was lava-proof, but this made up for all those easy runs a billion times over. Much like the black beach on the banks of the river of misery, the cliff face liked to chip off in tiny, razor-sharp sheets of rock? Skin? Whatever fingernails were made of? Leo didn’t want to think about it. Whatever they were, they left little tiny cuts all over Leo’s hands, and any blood that he smeared on the rock in his climb was immediately absorbed like a dry sponge in a puddle. Which was, yanno, pleasant and not upsetting in the slightest. 

Not to mention, he was hungry. The last time he’d eaten was the gelato he’d bought when he was on his mission in Rome with Frank and Hazel, and he literally had no way of knowing when that was. The only thing in his belly currently was the fire water of the Phlegethon, and he could feel it roiling and burning his esophagus like he had the world’s worst case of indigestion. Besides, even if the fire kept him from starving, it didn’t keep him from being hungry. And he hated being hungry.

Fortunately, their extension cords ran out right as they came upon a thin little jut out of rock, and Piper made the executive decision to call for a break. It wasn’t much of a rest stop, but it was plenty big enough for the two scrawniest members of the Argo II crew to sit their skinny little butts and take a breather. As soon as they were both seated, Leo shoved his bloody, cupped hands at her and gave her his best puppy dog eyes. “Food? Please? Whatever it is, make sure it isn’t spicy. I mean, I’ll eat it, but, god, I’m pretty sure if I never even see a pepper again in my life, it will be too soon.”

Piper looked a little doubtful, but she still pulled out the Cornucopia and squeezed her eyes shut. After a few heart-stopping seconds of nothing, a handful of brightly colored candies fell into his waiting palms. He stared at them in shock for a moment, then back up at her. “M&Ms? Really?”

“It’s the best I’ve got,” she shrugged somewhat defensively. 

He shrugged too, then popped the candy in his mouth. Hey, food’s food.

As soon as he began chewing, his face screwed up in distaste as his mouth was flooded with the taste of cheap chocolate and sour fruit. He didn’t spit it out because he was unwilling to part with even a single calorie, even if it was disgusting, but tears did prick in the corners of his eyes from the effort it took to not gag. Still, when he swallowed it was with a revolted shiver and a loud noise of protest. “Okay, that was a low blow, even for this place.”

Piper’s brow knit and she stared at the Horn. “What? What happened? It just gave you M&Ms, right?”

“It did give me M&Ms,” Leo confirmed. “It also gave me Skittles. Sour Skittles.”

Piper gaped at him, just as shocked by the audacity as he was. “Seriously?” She summoned her own handful of candy to investigate and grimaced. “They’re all identical, so we can’t just separate them.”

“We could eat them one at a time,” Leo suggested. Piper tried that, gingerly popping a single candy in her mouth, but her face still puckered. “No dice?”

“Somehow, this stupid place invented a Skittle-M&M hybrid,” she confirmed with a sigh.

“Fantastic,” Leo snorted. He still held out his hand, though. “Better than starving. Load me up.”

They sat there for a while, just catching their breath and eating candy until they were sick to their stomachs and watched the world below. The view they had would have been breathtaking if it was literally anywhere else on the planet. They were high enough up that they could see all the way out until the dark fog of Tartarus became too thick to see through, like an unloaded section of a videogame map, and if they’d been in the jungle or something, they would have been just over the tops of trees and watching a clear blue sky. Instead, all they got to see was smoke and ash and dust in weird red light on a bleak gray landscape, and instead of the beauty of nature’s animal life, they were treated with an entire bestiary of monsters. As Leo watched, a giant blister below popped and out stumbled a little baby monster on wobbly little baby monster legs. It took a few steps, but before it could even get its bearings, a much larger monster let out a shriek, darted out of a nearby cave, grabbed the baby monster, and dragged it back inside. There were a few terrified yelps, and then silence. Leo tried not to think about that any harder than he absolutely had to. 

Beside him, Piper looked a little green, likely having seen the display, too, but she just got to her feet and offered him a hand. “Come on. We need to keep moving.”

The rest of the climb was somehow easier and much, much harder than the first half. On the bright side, Leo wasn’t quite so hungry any more, so he wasn’t as miserable, and they were both experienced with their janky climbing gear, so the descent was much smoother. On the other hand, they were also sick from their candy break and completely exhausted from the first leg of their journey. Leo was pretty sure that he had seven blisters on each of his feet (one on either side of his ankles and one on every little toe) and they were all burst and raw, and every last muscle in his body screamed and cramped from exertion. As soon as they made it to the ground, Leo fell to his knees with a wheeze, absolutely fucking wiped.

“I’ve decided that I actually hate rock climbing,” Piper whined from where she was laying at his side, panting just as hard as he was. “When we get back to Camp, I’m dismantling that stupid wall.”

“Seconded,” Leo groaned. He stared up at the ceiling of the Pit, and as he did he could feel the gears in his brain start slowly chugging along. His thoughts and vision both were foggy, but something tugged at the back of his mind. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. “Were we… supposed to be doing something?”

“Uh…” Piper trailed off like she was also struggling to figure out what the hell they were doing there. “Doors of Death?”

That sounded right, and it actually triggered a new set of alarm bells, and he sat up with a frown. “Does it seem quiet to you?”

Piper sat up as well. “Not really,” she admitted, which was fair, seeing as they were surrounded with screams and grunts and wails of the damned. “But I know what you mean. Something’s missing.”

Leo furiously wracked his brain. Noisy. Doors of Death. Missing. A person, maybe? There was a missing person who was noisy, who had to do with the Doors. Or maybe they weren’t missing, maybe Piper and Leo had just lost them. He suddenly remembered going on a field trip in middle school when he’d been accosted by a lady with snake eyes (obviously a monster in retrospect) and lost his class, and he’d been forced to wander the museum by himself looking for the tour guide. He almost huffed out a laugh at the thought of a Tartarus Tour Guide. 

Then his blood went cold and his eyes went wide. “Piper, holy shit, I figured it out! It’s–”

He was interrupted by the sound of a bubblegum bubble popping followed by mocking laughter. He whipped his head around to see the empousai all emerging from their hiding spots, and he and Piper were soon surrounded. One of them stepped forward, and now that he was closer he could see that her clothes were just as torn and dirty and tattered as Serephone’s, but she was, in fact, wearing a cheerleader uniform.

“Well, well, well, Chelsea, looks like you were right. We do have a couple lost little demigods on our tail after all,” Cheer Captain grinned maliciously down at Piper and Leo. “Now, what are you losers doing down here?”

Leo had been surrounded plenty of times in his life. It was common practice in group homes and new schools to gang up on the new kid and figure out just where he fell in the pecking order. Hell, this wasn’t even the first time Leo had been surrounded by cheerleaders with grins full of malice, though it was the first time said cheerleaders’ grins were also full of literal fangs.

Fortunately, Piper sprang into action way faster than Leo. She scrambled to her feet, dragging Leo along with her, and when she spoke she leaned heavily into the Valley Girl kick her voice sometimes had, her words dripping with Charmspeak. “Hey, girlies!”

Cheer Captain looked a little taken aback by Piper’s friendly, familiar tone. “Uh, hey?”

“What are they doing here?” one of the older empousai, probably Serephone, hissed. 

Piper didn’t pay her any attention, her gaze fixated on Cheer Captain. “I’m, like, so glad we found you guys. We’ve been super lost wandering around down here! Gaea told us to get to the Doors, but someone–” she elbowed Leo in the side– “went and lost the directions.”

“Uh, yeah,” Leo agreed awkwardly. “My bad.”

“You’re siding with Gaea?” Serephone asked suspiciously. 

“Like, totally!”

“That’s impossible!” Cheer Captain snapped. “Gaea promised to end all demigods, and that would include the likes of you two. She promised me I would kill Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase myself!”

“Yeah, because that worked out so well last time,” one of the younger empousai muttered. Cheer Captain hissed violently at her.

“Ohmigod, wait, are you Kelli?” Piper laughed. “Like, nevermind you leading us, in that case. We’d be better off finding our own way to the Doors.”

“What do you mean by that?” Serephone asked, narrowing her eyes. 

“Well, she was part of the Titan War, right?” Piper said with a mocking smirk. “I don’t know if she told you guys, but she was, like, totally the reason Kronos failed. She had one job and she couldn’t even do it right.”

“The Titan War was always meant to fail!” Cheer Captain, who was definitely Kelli, shrieked. “It was all part of Mother Gaea’s plan!”

“Wait, what are you guys even doing siding with Gaea, anyways?” Leo wondered. “You guys do Mist stuff, right? Don’t you work for Hecate?”

“We are her followers, yes,” Kelli spat. “Literally, what does that matter?”

“Well, you know she’s fighting against Gaea and the Giants, right?” he pointed out. “Like, she’s got a cabin at Camp Half-Blood and everything. Her kids helped me– I mean, those other demigods build their ship to go fight in the war.”

Immediately tension fell over the group, and multiple suspicious looks were thrown Kelli’s way. One of the older ladies stepped forward. “You told us that Hecate was siding against the Olympians, just as she did in the Titan War.”

“If what these demigods are saying is true, you have led us astray, Kallirroi,” Serephone said seriously. “I’ll not go against the Dark Lady’s plans.”

“Maybe you guys should listen to Serephone. Follow her, instead,” Piper suggested. She’s older and wiser, and she doesn’t already have that major flub-up under her belt. It, like, totally makes sense.”

Serephone’s face lit up and she stuck out her chin at Kelli, who was obviously seething. “Yes! Follow me, sisters! I will–”

Kelli moved so fast Leo literally couldn’t keep his eyes on her, even with his souped up demigod reflexes, and if he’d been her target, he would have been dead before he even had time to realize he was in danger. Fortunately, she instead pounced on Serephone, and the fight was over before it even started. It was quick, it was brutal, and Serephone was lying dead at Kelli’s mismatched feet before she could even scream.

“So, are we gonna have any more problems?” Kelli asked, licking at the stream of blood dribbling down her wrist like she was eating a quickly-melting ice cream cone. The rest of the empousai stayed silent, and she grinned. “Okay, yeah, I lied about Hecate to get you guys to listen to me, so what? Hecate’s the goddess of crossroads, she’s the goddess of choices. If she wanted worshipers who blindly followed her, she wouldn’t have made us, she would have made some boring losers with no brain. She wants us to forge our own paths, to make our own choices. And me? I’m choosing the path that leads to me sinking my fangs into as many demigods as possible. I’m choosing Gaea!”

The surrounding empousa let out a resounding cry of support and Kelli turned her sneer on Piper and Leo. “Nice try, losers. That was some fancy work with the Charmspeak, I must say, but it wasn’t good enough.”

Piper shrugged casually. “That’s fine. I prefer a more hands-on approach anyway.”

Then she reared back and decked Kelli right in the face. 

The move was so bold and unexpected that it actually managed to catch Kelli off-guard and she stumbled back, clutching her jaw in shock, before she pointed, face twisting up in outrage. “Get them!”

Immediately, the other empousai pounced, Leo went up in flames, and Piper picked up a nearby rock. It wasn’t a pretty fight, by any stretch of the imagination, and Chiron would have probably shaken his head in disappointment at their form, but it was working. Try as they might, the empousai couldn’t really get all that close when Leo was doing his Human Torch impersonation, and Piper was surprisingly vicious when it came to bashing in vampire cheerleader faces with a rock, and he really was living up to her title of “scourge of the LA private school system.” Leo had always told her that it didn't sound half as badass as she thought it did, but he was finding a newfound respect for the title. 

Eventually, though, Kelli got tired of waiting and dove into the fray herself. Leo watched in horror as she grabbed Piper off the back of another empousai and flung her into a nearby boulder. Piper let out a sharp cry of pain  before going still and Kelli tossed her head back and laughed before taking a step in her direction. 

“Piper!” Leo shouted. While he was distracted, one of the other cheerleaders jumped on his back and sank her teeth into his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He just cranked up his flames to be white hot, forcing the empousai away from him, before he ran as fast as he could to stand between Piper and Kelli. “You stay away from her!”

“Oh, aren’t you cute?” Kelli cooed mockingly. “Defending your little girlfriend, huh? I might just let you stick around, so you can watch me gut her.”

Leo grit his teeth and scowled. “Just fucking try it!”

Kelli, however, never got the chance to try anything because there was a bright flash from overhead and suddenly a giant janitor, ten feet tall and glowing with almost blinding silver light, landed in the middle of the battlefield. He spun his broom around in his hand like a karate master before slamming the bristles down on the ground and making a gigantic spear head pop out of the other end. “Cleaning time!”

Kelli reared back in confusion and scowled. “Uh, who are–”

Before she could finish, the janitor thrust his broom-spear forward and skewered her right in the chest, making her burst into fine gold glitter. “Sweep!”

The other empousai shrieked in terror and tried to flee, but the janitor made quick work of each and every one of them, yanking them back, bashing them over the head and stabbing them into monster dust. He was ruthless, and he was efficient, and he did it all with a wide, beatific smile on his face. 

Leo could only sit and stare in silence until Piper sat up with a groan, watching the display with the same mystified wonder as he was. “What the actual fuck am I looking at?”

“Beats me,” Leo answered. “At this point, I’m just trying to accept that I’m never gonna understand what’s going on.”

When the janitor was satisfied with the carnage that surrounded him, he turned to Piper and Leo, covered in the gold glitter of his vanquished foes and wearing a smile that was almost brighter than the light emanating from him. “Hello, Friends of Percy! I am Bob!”

Chapter Text

Nico was on edge. He’d been on edge since Hazel had announced that they were going to Venice. Actually, that was a lie. He’d been on edge since he boarded the Argo II. Wait, no, that was a lie. He’d been on edge since he’d been kidnapped out of the depths of Tartarus and shoved into a giant jar where he had to put himself into a magically-induced coma and suck on mystical pomegranate seeds to survive. Or maybe it was before that when he’d spent the better part of a year playing both sides of a conflict that would have most certainly ended in war if anyone ever found out about what he was doing. Or maybe it was before that when– Well. Maybe he’d just always been on edge. 

He knew his foul mood wasn’t winning him any brownie points with his crew members, each and every one of them, Hedge included, giving him half-nervous sidelong glances as he prowled back and forth, shadows and darkness clinging to him like needy children. He couldn’t help it, and, quite frankly, even if he could, he wouldn’t. If he could make the others on the ship feel even half of the gut churning anxiety he was experiencing as they slowly approached the city, he was going to. 

“Nico!”

His musing was cut short by Annabeth calling his name. She was up at the helm, like she usually was, giving him a pointed look. He got the feeling she knew exactly what he was doing, but he knew she wouldn’t say anything unless he actually started causing real problems. “Would you go get Jason from below deck? He should be in his cabin. We’re almost to Venice now, and we need to devise a plan for when we get there.”

Nico gave her a lazy salute and slumped down the stairs. He would have preferred to shadow travel directly into Jason’s room, but while Annabeth wouldn’t criticize him for his dramatics, he was bound to get an earful if he shadow traveled in front of her, and Hazel would probably tag team in, and if there was one thing he wasn’t ready to deal with it was Annabeth Chase being concerned about him. Still he was glad that he’d decided to walk when he heard a voice from the other side of the door.

“You’re a fucking coward, Jason Grace.”

Nico froze, his hand lifted in an attempt at knocking. That wasn’t Jason’s voice, unless Jason had managed to turn into a teenage girl with malice dripping from her tongue and a penchant for speaking in third person when no one was looking. Nico held his breath and waited for a reply.

After a moment, Jason let out a long, shaking breath. “Drew, look, I–”

“You shut your mouth,” Drew snarled, and Nico could hear the way Jason’s teeth clicked shut at the order. “You went and threw my little sister into fucking Tartarus, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me. I had to find out because Nyssa came and started crying her eyes out on my shoulder. Took nearly an hour to even get it out of her.”

“I tried to tell you,” Jason gritted out. “I just– Iris Messages have been–”

“Don’t give me shit about IMs; I don’t care,” Drew seethed. “All I care about is the fact that you’re on a boat twiddling your thumbs while Piper is probably about to die. You're supposed to love her, did you even try to save her?”

Jason didn’t say anything for a moment, but when he did his voice was hard and thick. “We– I’m going to save them, Drew.”

“You fucking better,” Drew said coldly. “Don’t bother coming back if you don’t.”

There was a soft fwoosh sound as the rainbow for the IM dissipated into nothingness, and then silence fell. Nico waited for a beat before hesitantly knocking on the door, then waited another to push it open when Jason didn’t answer. The inside of Jason’s cabin was tidy to the point of absurdity, and Nico would have mistaken it for the guest cabin if not for the dozens of photos lovingly taped to the wall around a Green Day tour shirt and the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Jason was sitting on the edge of his perfectly made bed, elbows on his knees and laced fingers pressed to his bowed forehead like he was deep in prayer. He was shaking. Nico pretended not to notice. “Uh, hey.”

Jason lifted his head to stare at him, and it was the same blank, expressionless stare Nico had come to know since joining the crew. He knew it wasn’t normal for Jason to look like that, not based on the stories Annabeth told him, and not based on the photos on the wall. This wasn’t even the face of the quiet, serious Praetor Nico had known in passing at Camp Jupiter, but it was the only face Nico had seen since Rome. “Hey, Nico.”

“We’re approaching Venice,” Nico reported. “Annabeth wants everyone up top to discuss strategy.” 

Jason gave him a short, sharp nod, jaw tight. Then he was on his feet heading up the stairs without another word, and Nico could do nothing but follow him. 

Back up on deck, they were entering the wharf outside of Venice. It was so much warmer and livelier than Nico remembered it being. Most all of the roofs were rich, red tile, and all of the buildings were shades of pink and orange and yellow, their walls softened and sun-bleached from time. Nico felt his heart pounding in the back of his throat and he wanted to throw up, but he couldn’t. Instead, he just swallowed thickly and schooled his features into practiced disinterest.

“What are those things?” Hazel asked, pointing at the shore. In addition to the seemingly endless tourists, monsters clogged the streets of Venice. They were large, cow-like creatures with shaggy fur that fell over their eyes like unkempt bangs, and Nico would have worried about them being able to see where they’re going, but each and every one of them had its face hanging low towards the ground. This meant that their vision could be as obstructed as they wanted without issue, they weren’t looking more than a few inches past the end of their noses, anyway.

“It looks like they’re eating something off the ground,” Frank pointed out. “They seem to be ignoring all the tourists.”

“I think the mortals think they’re dogs or something,” Percy said. As he spoke, one of the tourists actually stopped and started petting a nearby monster, just to prove his point. “What do we think, guys? Are they friendly?”

“No such thing as a friendly monster!” Hedge bleated angrily. “I say we blow them all to smithereens!”

Nico refrained from pointing out that, technically speaking, Hedge was also a monster. He squinted out at the city, watching the monsters closely. There was something familiar about them, but he couldn’t place it for the life of him. “It doesn’t look like they’re dangerous, but assuming they’re friendly probably isn’t a safe bet. We’d be better off avoiding them.”

“Avoiding them isn’t exactly going to be an option,” Annabeth said grimly. “We’ve got to return this book to La Casa Nera, Calle Frezzeria. Whatever that means.”

“It’s an address,” Nico translated. “ Calle Frezzeria is the street, and La Casa Nera is the building itself. Means The Black House.”

Frank shifted his weight from foot to foot a bit nervously, his eyebrows knitted tight together. “So, who’s going down there?”

“Realistically, it should be either me or Jason, since we found the book,” Annabeth said. “But I can’t go because Festus needs some tune-ups I can only do while we’re docked, and, Jason, I need you to keep an eye on that storm system coming up on us. It doesn’t look natural, and I don’t want any of the anemoi thuellai catching us off guard.” Jason just nodded silently, and took off into the sky without a second glance.

“It should be me,” Hazel said after a moment. “Hecate told me about the tasks, I feel like I need to at least be there for one of them.”

Annabeth nodded in agreement. “Okay, you need two more people with you in that case.”

“Frank, will you go with me?” Hazel asked, her voice going soft and a little bashful. Frank immediately started nodding, eyes shining. For a moment, Nico was a little convinced that he was going to just burst with pride.

“Then I’ll go as your number three,” Percy offered with a grin. “Who’s ready for Alaska Quest: Round Two?”

Hazel and Frank both looked pleased at the offer, but Nico shook his head. “No, I need to go. Last I checked, there was only one person here who spoke Italian.” He leveled Hazel with a serious look. “I can lead you to the Black House.”

Percy didn’t look all that thrilled about being booted out of his chaperone role, but he couldn’t argue with facts. In all honesty, Nico almost wished he’d pitched a fit over it more. His blood ran cold at the thought of returning to Venice, but Hazel needed him, and he wasn’t going to let metaphorical ghosts chase him off. 

“Okay, it’s decided,” Annabeth agreed. “Nico, you lead Frank and Hazel through Venice, I’ll work on Festus, and, Percy and Hedge, you keep watch.”

Nico nodded along with everyone else, and steeled himself to finally go home. 

Walking through Venice was an even more painful experience than Nico had imagined it would be. He couldn’t truly remember much of his life here, he’d been so young and so much had happened since then and his father had ensured that he lost most of his memories of this place. But every now and then he would see a pair of children rushing past, and they changed to look like him and Bianca, or he’d hear a woman’s bright laugh and whip his head around, expecting to see his mother and instead finding a stranger. Nico was more than familiar with his fair share of ghosts by this point, but he’d never been haunted quite like this.

Somehow though, his memories weren’t his only or even his greatest source of pain. Try as they might, they simply couldn’t compete with the agony that was walking through Venice with Frank and Hazel. He’d known about their mutual crush from their time at New Rome. It was hard not to notice when Hazel somehow managed to bring up Frank in every conversation she and Nico shared, and harder still to ignore the way Frank practically tripped over himself to make Hazel smile. Apparently, at some point in between their world-saving quests, they’d managed to get at least a couple steps past that initial awkward phase, because now they were walking the streets hand in hand, though they still kept a good two feet of distance between them and they refused to make eye contact, both of them too busy blushing and smiling sappily at the world at large. In all honesty, Nico wanted to be supportive of their blossoming romance – he genuinely liked Frank, and if anyone made his sister happy, that was good enough for him – but at the moment he was too busy lamenting the fact that he was escorting a pair of thirteen-year-olds on what was seemingly their first date. 

“So, Nico, you, uh, speak Italian?” Frank said awkwardly. “Was your mom Italian, or did you take classes, or…?”

Nico wanted to tell him to go back to his date and mind his business, but he figured that would probably upset Hazel. “Yes, I speak Italian,” he said, his tone clipped. “Bianca and I grew up here in the 1930’s. I don’t remember much of this place, but I still know the language.”

“Oh, that’s, um…” Frank trailed off as he desperately searched for a word. “Cool?”

Fortunately, Hazel took pity on them both, and pointed at a nearby plaza. “Take a look over there! There’s so many of the cow-things. D’you think that’s where we’re headed?”

Nico glanced over to see more than a dozen of the cow monsters all sniffing around the courtyard of a perfectly black house. It was certainly an oddity in the sea of warm colors that made up Venice, but even if it wasn’t, there was no mistaking the sense of foreboding that hung thick and heavy in the air around it. He nodded. “Yeah. That’s La Casa Nera. Let’s go.”

They started making their way towards the house, keeping to the edges of the plaza where the cow monsters would ignore, but Hazel suddenly shuddered. “It’s so… cold.”

Frank nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. I mean, this place is really old, right?” He looked over to Nico. “Are there a lot of ghosts here?”

That actually gave Nico pause. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen a single ghost the whole time they’d been ashore, but he’d been too caught up in his own head to notice. He focused his attention, and slowly but surely the ghosts of Venice came into sharp relief. However, they all gave the little questing party a wide berth, and none of them would even look at Nico. His frown deepened. “There are a lot of ghosts here. I don’t think we have to worry about them right now, though. It seems like they’re all avoiding us for some reason.”

“That almost makes me more nervous than if they were bothering us,” Hazel confessed. 

Nico couldn’t help but secretly agree. Ghosts rarely ignored him, and when they did something bad was sure to follow. He didn’t mention that to Hazel or Frank. “Let’s just return this book and get out of here. We can’t be harassed by the dead if we’re not in their house.”

They both nodded in agreement, but at that exact moment, Hazel stepped on a loose cobblestone, nearly tripping. Frank managed to catch her, but the commotion was enough to get a half-dozen of the monsters’ attention. One of them looked at Frank, who suddenly turned a little green, and Nico felt his blood run cold. “Guys, we need to get into that house. Now.”

“I’m sorry,” Hazel whispered harshly. “This is all my fault, I should have been more careful.”

“I don’t think it was anyone’s fault,” Frank said, gesturing at the ground. Sure enough, the green tendrils of vines that the monsters had been eating were squirming their way out of the ground, desperately trying to wrap around their feet. Nico shuddered, and yanked himself free of a particularly thick vine that had curled around his ankle. “I’m gonna distract these guys, you two back into the house.,” Frank decided. “Don’t look them in the eyes.”

“Frank, no!” Hazel protested. “We can’t just leave you to–”

Before she could finish her thought, one of the monsters let out a bellowing groan that sounded like the combination of a moo and a roar, and the others soon joined in a cacophonous chorus. 

“Too late!” Frank shouted. “Run!”

Nico didn’t stick around to ask questions, he just grabbed Hazel’s hand and bolted, dragging her along, even as she screamed for Frank. Two of the monsters had peeled away from the herd to chase him and Hazel, but whatever Frank was doing was obviously a good enough distraction for the rest of them. Nico tried to make his way to the Black House, but the monsters were surprisingly fast, and one of them cut him off. He saw the barest glimpse of green light starting to glow from behind its bangs, but he jerked his head away and sprinted in the opposite direction before it could make him sick. He did his best to keep his head down, trying to avoid the monsters’ gaze, just like Frank said as he ran. Unfortunately, that also kept him from being able to see where he was going, and he soon found himself staring down a corner he’d backed them into.

Nico withdrew his blade and gritted his teeth, sensing Hazel do the same beside him. Fighting these monsters would be difficult, he knew that much. All he could do was slash out in front of him, his head hanging low and eyes downcast like the beasts themselves and hope that his blade found its mark. That was hard enough, but then he felt a sharp stinging in his nostrils, followed by Hazel’s gasp of shocked pain. He turned just in time to see Hazel sway dangerously from side to side, engulfed in a noxious-looking cloud of green gas before she collapsed backward and he had to catch her with his free hand. “Hazel!”

He carefully lowered her to the ground and propped her up against a nearby wall, just as a massive lion leapt in front of them, hunkering down into a protective stance. With a mighty roar and a furious swipe of his claws, the monsters were gone, and Frank was standing in the lion’s place. “Hazel! Is she okay?”

“She got a full dose of that green gas,” Nico said. His voice shook and he didn’t like how close it sounded to breaking. “I should have been paying more attention. I don’t–”

“We have to get her back to the ship!” Frank insisted. “Percy will know what to do.”

Nico grit his teeth and nodded sharply. “Turn into a giant eagle and take her back to the Argo II. Get Hedge to help her.”

“What about–”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nico snapped. “Leave me here. Save my sister!”

Suddenly, there was the sound of a disappointed tongue clucking, followed by the thickest, fakest country accent Nico had ever heard. “Well, that is a noble sacrifice, but not a very useful one.”

Nico and Frank both looked over to see a gangly man dressed in the most comically stereotypical farmer getup Nico could imagine. He wore a pair of sturdy denim overalls on top of a red and white checkered button up, and a straw hat sat on top of his curly black hair. His eyes sparkled somewhat playfully and he was wearing a wide, cheerful grin, but Nico had seen far too much to be fooled by a charming smile and a friendly face. “What do you mean?”

“Your friends can’t save your sister, they don’t know how,” Farmer Guy said. 

“Do you know how?” Frank asked.

“Course I do!” Farmer Guy laughed. “Now, why don’t the two of you come on in before more of those things show up? I just made some rice cakes.”

Nico grit his teeth as Frank carefully lowered Hazel into a bed Farmer Guy had directed them towards with a casual wave. He said something about his stupid rice cakes again, leaving Nico and Frank alone. 

“Do you think we can trust him?” Nico asked quietly. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. Every now and then there was a loud bang and mooing from the other side of the door where the cow-monsters were trying their best to break it down to get inside. Their host didn’t seem too worried about it, but Nico wasn’t sure how comforting he found that.

“I dunno,” Frank said a little fretfully. “I mean, he said he can heal Hazel, right?”

“He did,” Nico agreed, narrowing his eyes. “Never said he would, though.”

For the briefest moment, Frank’s face twisted up with anger, his dark eyes flashing almost red like garnets in firelight, and Nico thought that Frank was going to storm into the other room and throttle Farmer Guy where he stood. Then he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “We can’t think like that. He saved us from those cow monsters, after all. Maybe he just wants to help.”

“Maybe,” Nico said, trying to keep his voice from being too terribly thick with doubt, but based on the way Frank’s eyebrows knit, he got the feeling he hadn’t been all that successful. He shook his head, trying to think about something else. “Those monsters are another thing that’s been bothering me. I’m certain I’ve heard of them before, but I can’t remember where.”

Farmer Guy chose that exact moment to waltz back in, a stack of rice cakes on a plate. “I’d be a little surprised if you’ve heard of them. A Katoblep isn’t exactly anyone’s favorite monster.” He paused in front of Nico and looked him up and down with a pinched expression, then forcefully handed him a rice cake. “You look sickly. You should eat more grains.”

Nico’s face puckered and he was suddenly reliving the previous summer when he’d been stuck in the Underworld with his father, Persephone, and Demeter. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Please, sir, you’ve got to help Hazel,” Frank pleaded. “She’s– I– Please, don’t let her die.”

Farmer Guy actually looked a little moved by Frank’s (possibly literal) puppy dog eyes, and he stepped up to Hazel’s bedside to place a thin sheet of something on her tongue. She still remained unconscious, but her breathing seemed a little less labored. “There we go. Bit of rice paper never hurt anyone. It’ll buy us some time at the very least. Grains are very good at absorbing toxins, you know. That’s why you should always eat plenty of bread before you go out drinking.”

Nico shared a look with Frank, who looked equally baffled. “Great. Thanks. We’ll keep that in mind.”

“Of course, that rule only really applies to grain grown by a god,” Farmer Guy mused. “I mean, the bread thing is still solid advice, but don’t expect a loaf of Wonder Bread to save your skin if you start drinking mysterious potions!”

“So, you’re a… god, then?” Frank asked slowly.

“Why, I haven’t even introduced myself, have I? How rude of me!” Farmer Guy laughed. “Triptolemus is the name. You can call me Trip though. Bit less of a mouthful.”

“Uh, okay. What, um, are you the god of?”

“Agriculture! Animal husbandry! If it’s farming related, it’s got my name all over it!” Trip said cheerfully. “Why, I housed the good lady Demeter way back when she was scouring Greece looking for Persephone after that nasty piece of work Hades kidnapped her. I fed her, comforted her, offered her all the help of a good home-grown meal, and in return she gave me my chariot and made me the god of farming! Quite generous of her, wouldn’t you say?”

Nico’s face puckered again, thinking of his time with “the good lady Demeter.” “I suppose you could say something along those lines.”

“She did all that for me, and the only thing she’s ever asked me to do was spread the good word of farming, and I happily did for many years!” His smile got a little tight as he added, “Nowadays, I don’t even have to leave my home! Through the wonders of technology, in six short weeks, I can teach anyone in the world about the wonders of farming with my online college courses. Isn’t that something?”

“Right, that’s… something, alright,” Frank said slowly. “So, you know what those cow things outside are, right? You called them something before. Cattle-bloops or–”

Nico facepalmed so hard he could have sworn he felt his brain rattle in his skull and he let out a few hissed curses. “Katoblep! Gods above, I’m so stupid. Of course I remember now!”

Franks brow knit and for a moment that fury from before was directed at Nico. “What do you mean you remember? You knew what those things were and you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I used to play this stupid card game called Mythomagic,” Nico muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up in shame. He couldn’t meet Frank’s eye and he certainly couldn’t look at Hazel laying there, so he hung his head and lowered his gaze to the floor. “Katoblep was one of the monster cards. AoE poison breath attack and targeted poison gaze attack.”

“How come I never saw that card?” Nico flicked his eyes up to see Frank staring at him curiously. “I play Mythomagic and I’ve never heard of them.”

“It was… before your time,” Nico said haltingly. “They were in the Africanus Extreme expansion pack, which was released in the 90’s and wasn’t really all that popular, even back then.”

Frank’s eyes went wide, and Nico braced himself to become a wealth of Mythomagic information, but Trip cleared his throat, looking between the two of them. “Well, isn’t this… cute? The two of you just… geeking out over your little card game.”

Frank’s cheeks went pink and he cleared his throat. “Right, well, um, if the katobleps are from Africa, what are they doing here?”

Trip shrugged. “People move. Sure, Africa is their homeland, but that doesn’t mean they have to stay there. You should know all about families leaving their homeland, Frank Zhang.” Frank’s eyes went wide, but Trip moved on before he could say anything. “Anyway, the katoblepones were imported a few hundred years ago, and quite by accident. Saint Mark– You know Saint Mark, right? Patron saint of Venice? Well, he died in Egypt, and he was laid to rest there until some Venetians decided that he would be better off back home. So, they got the bright idea to smuggle his remains back mixed in with a few pickled pig parts!”

Frank’s face twisted up, and he looked a bit like he was going to be sick. “That’s… disgusting.”

“Hmm, yes, you’re right it is,” Trip agreed cheerfully. “And, well, an act like that can’t go completely unpunished, so they wound up bringing the katoblepones with them. Ever since then, the beasts have been breeding like mad and they’ve damn near overrun the city! They go crazy for the magic roots of the poisonous vines that creep up from the canals. Makes their breath somehow even more toxic! Generally, they avoid mortals, but if a demigod were to get their attention…” He cast a glance at Hazel’s still form and his grin widened. “Well, I guess I don’t have to tell you two what happens.”

“Thanks for the history lesson,” Nico said, his voice tight. “Now, can you cure my sister or not?”

“I might be able to pull something out of my sleeves,” Trip beamed. “Not really all that sure what’s in it for me, though.”

Frank made a huffing sound like he was about to transform into a bull to show Trip that the katoblep wasn’t the only dangerous bovine in Venice, but Nico cut in. “We have something of yours. Something you might find interesting. But only if you help her.”

Trip looked downright amused. “What could you possibly have that would–” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp, his eyes lighting up with a new fiery determination that his laid back persona had lacked and when he spoke his charming accent was nowhere to be found. “Where did you get that? Tell me, now.”

Nico waved the little leatherbound almanac through the air casually. “Where we found it doesn’t matter; it’s none of your concern. But you heal my sister, and you can have it back, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

Trip’s face was stony, and the smile he forced was a lot less friendly and a lot more malicious than the ones before it. “Now, don’t you think it’s a bit rude for you to be making demands like that? I mean, I went and introduced myself, fed you, and gave you information, and you haven’t so much as told me your name, Nico di Angelo.”

Nico’s blood ran cold and he moved one of his feet backwards so he could more readily fall into a fighting stance if need be. “Who needs introductions? You obviously know me.”

“Of course I know you, Son of Hades,” Trip spat. “How could I not?”

“You were never going to help us in the first place,” Nico growled. “Why’d you bring us in here then?”

“Your snake of a father stole my lady’s daughter. It seems only right I should take his son.” He cast a wicked glance at Hazel. “And his Roman form’s daughter, for good measure.”

Nico bared his teeth, dropping the book to the ground so he could unsheathe his sword. He let out a furious snarl and lunged, but Trip just laughed and snapped his fingers and the world went black.

Chapter Text

Kill him!

Kill him!

Kill him!

Frank took in deep, heaving breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He could hear Mars and Ares in his head, screaming at the top of their lungs. For the first time ever, they were both so outraged that they weren’t screaming at one another, but that didn’t make them any quieter. That didn’t give him any room to think. His hands trembled as he took in another lungful of air. 

When he was able to speak, his voice shook. “What did you do?”

Trip hummed casually as he bent over to scoop up the little leatherbound book that Nico had dropped. “There you are my dear,” he cooed, flipping through its pages. Oddly, the first thing that Frank noticed was that he no longer had his accent. Instead of cartoonish, his voice just sounded old, like something that had been left behind and forgotten for years and years. “I don’t know how those nasty demigods got their hands on you, but I’ll make sure I never lose you again.”

KILL HIM!

“What did you do to him?” Frank demanded again with a snarl.

Trip arched his eyebrows at Frank. “Why, I turned him into a corn plant, obviously. More specifically, he’s a Glass Gem plant. It’s an heirloom species of flint corn that I’m personally fond of.”

“Turn him back!”

“And why should I?” Trip scoffed. He waved the book through the air. “Your little friend made the mistake of returning my almanac to me. What bargaining chip do you have? In fact, why don’t you just go ahead and give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just turn you into farro. I’ve no personal grievance with the god of war, but I can’t say I’m a fan of his work, either. ”

Frank’s heart raced. He couldn’t just let Trip the farmer from hell turn him into some stupid plant he’d never even heard of. Not when Percy and Annabeth were depending on them to finish their mission. Not when Piper and Leo were waiting to be rescued from Tartarus. Not when Nico was sitting in a planter and Hazel was slowly dying on a bed less than three feet from him. He had to do something.

Kill him! Ares insisted.

The Grecian scum is right! Kill him! Mars demanded.

Be quiet, Frank pleaded.

Frank’s mind flashed back to his quest with Percy and Hazel up to Alaska. Percy had been the de facto leader of their quest, and if there was one thing Frank had learned from him, it was that when your back was to the wall your best bet was to make the other guy start talking. “So, why do you even want Nico and Hazel anyway?”

Trip scowled at him. “Weren’t you listening? Their father stole my lady’s daughter away, and I am taking revenge!”

“Yeah, but they’ve already worked all of that out,” Frank pointed out. “I mean, I’m sure Cerce–”

“Demeter!”

“Demeter isn’t exactly thrilled about it, but they have a system.” Frank tapped his chin in thought. “I mean, if you think about it, Nico and Hazel are kind of like Demeter’s grandchildren.”

Trip’s face twisted up in disgust. “How dare you? My lady would never–”

“How do you know?” Frank cut in, staring Trip down. The god suddenly seemed a little less confident. “I mean, Demeter and the rest of the gods are over in North America. When was the last time you even spoke to Demeter?”

Trip balled his hands into fists at his sides. “I don’t need to speak with my lady, I am doing her work and spreading her word where she left– assigned me. I don’t need to be in North America, I can spread the good word of farming from my home right here, using the internet.”

Frank’s eyes widened. “Wait, she left you here? She just turned you into a god, and abandoned you at the next road stop?”

“It wasn’t her choice!” Trip said defensively. “I simply… was unable to follow when the Spirit of the West left Italy.”

Frank let out a long, low whistle. “Was that before or after you let your symbol of power get stolen?”

“It had nothing to do with that theft!” Trip spat. “It was…” He cast his eyes around, desperately searching for an excuse, and he snapped. “My chariot! It was damaged – by a son of Hades, mind you – and I wasn’t able to follow. So, like I said before: not her choice.”

Frank glanced over at where Trip was gesturing and saw a winged chariot, which was set up on a pair of car jacks. Where the wheels were supposed to be, two pythons were coiled around the axel, seemingly fast asleep. At the sound of the snap, the left wheel opened its eyes and began twisting and writhing in a motion Frank could only assume was supposed to make the chariot move forward, while the other remained still and dead. “I’m guessing a snake from the pet store won’t cut it?”

Trip gave him an absolutely withering look. “No, son of Mars, it won’t.”

Frank’s mind was working in overtime as he desperately tried to connect the dots and come up with some sort of plan.

Kill the other snake! Mars suggested. And then kill him!

No, kill him first! Ares argued. And then kill the other snake!

“So, you said that the chariot is the only thing keeping you from joining the other gods, right?” Frank prompted. 

“I– Well, it’s more–” Trip cut himself off to clear his throat. “Yes, that is precisely what I implied.”

“What if I fixed your chariot?” Frank suggested. “Then you can just leave this place and the katoblepones and join Lady Demeter at your rightful place by her side.”

“I… Well, that would be nice…” Trip said slowly. He glanced over at the chariot and then at Frank. “And you think you can fix it? Last I checked you were the son of the war god, not the tinkerer.”

“Don’t even sweat it, I’ve got this covered,” Frank lied. “I’ll fix your chariot, you let me and my friends go so we can complete our quest.”

Trip tapped his chin. “A tempting offer, I must say, but tell me first: what is your quest? I have a hard time believing a quest by the children of war and death would be one my lady would endorse.”

“We’re not directly endorsed by lady Demeter,” Frank admitted. “But we are endorsed by another goddess. Hecate has chosen Hazel as one of her disciples, and she sent us here to you. She was the one who led us to Bologna to retrieve your almanac. She said you could help us rescue our friends from the House of Hades.”

“Hecate? House of Hades?” Trip echoed, his eyebrows arching up towards his hairline. “Why, next you’re going to tell me that Gaea herself is rising and the second Giant War is about to begin.”

“Well…”

Trip looked absolutely gobsmacked for a moment before he schooled his features. “Well, it seems as if you and your friends have your work cut out for you, Frank Zhang. But, if Hecate herself sent you to me, that means your quest must be worth completing, and I do have the secrets to getting to the bottom floor of the House of Hades.”

“So you’ll help us?” Frank asked eagerly. “You’ll heal Hazel, turn Nico back, and tell us how to save our friends?”

Trip’s smile was positively wicked. “Why don’t you figure out a way to fix my chariot first, hmm? You do that and we’ll talk about what I can to help you. If you can't, well…”

“Hazel’s dead, and Nico stays a corn plant forever,” Frank finished. “Got it.”

“And you will stay with me and be my apprentice!” Trip added cheerfully, his fake accent suddenly coming back in full force, thicker than ever. “We can hammer out your swords into plowshares and we’ll farm the warmonger right on out of you! It will be fun!”

“Right,” Frank said with a tight smile. “Fun.”

As  Frank jogged down the streets of Venice, he cursed himself. Why, exactly, had he offered to fix Trip’s chariot? He wasn’t Leo, who could just look at things funny until they fixed themselves, or Annabeth, who could solve any puzzle you put in front of her. He wasn’t Percy, who could improvise better than anyone, or Piper, who could have probably just convinced the chariot to fix itself. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, Jason would be able to do to make this situation any better than it was, but he was bound to be more equipped to handle it than Frank. Frank, who was clumsy and awkward on the best of days, much less when he was dealing with his father yelling at himself in his head. 

But then again, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Well, okay, it was bad, but maybe it could be useful. It wasn’t like they’d had all that much luck with divine intervention, so maybe him having a direct line upstairs was some kind of demented blessing in a very loud, very unpleasant disguise. 

The gods in his head were yelling at one another about whether onagers or trebuchets were the superior catapult when Frank came to a stop and shouted, out loud, “Shut up!” The action garnered him a confused look from an old Venetian lady, who just averted her gaze and quickened her pace, but it at least got Mars and Ares to quit being mad at one another. Unfortunately, it instead made them mad at one another. 

You dare speak to me like that, boy? Mars barked

Just who do you think you are? Ares growled

Frank darted his gaze around and found a relatively flat cobblestone about the size of his palm and scooped it up, holding it to his ear and hoping that everyone who saw him would just assume he was on the phone and not ask too many questions. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just needed to get your attention.” They muttered to themselves, but they stopped yelling, so Frank pressed on. “Do you guys know anything about snakes?”

The only thing I know about snakes is which ones kill you! Ares scoffed.

We’re war gods, kid, not herpetologists! Mars added.

“Herpe–?” Frank cut his question off with a head shake. “Okay, bad question. Can you guys give me a magic snake or something?”

You want us to just give you the snake? Without earning it? Mars demanded.

The audacity of this one, Ares spat. None of my children are this impertinent.

Your children are Greek. They’re all impertinent!

“Okay, okay!” Frank interrupted. “So you can’t just give me the snake; I have to earn it. How do I do that?”

You think you could? Mars scoffed. Only a real hero would be able to pull off a feat like that!

Frank grit his teeth and clenched his fist around his rock phone, trying not to show how much the words stung. He doubted he was all that successful, seeing as the people he was hiding from were in his head. “I am a hero. I killed a Giant, and I’m on a quest to defeat Gaea.”

With help, Ares dismissed. Come back when you’ve made a name for yourself.

Like Romulus, Mars agreed.

Ares made an affronted gagging sound. Too Roman!

He is Roman! Mars argued. He ought to be acting like a Roman!

Ares seemed to think that over. Well, if he has to be a Roman, he should be more like Horatius. Now he was a hero. 

Mars didn’t seem to have any argument for that and Frank felt his heart thump in the back of his throat. “So, I have to do what Horatius did? And then you’ll help me?”

Kid, if you can pull off what Horatius did, you can have the whole damn reptile exhibit, Mars snorted. 

Frank bristled at his incredulous tone. “Fine. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll make Horatius look like a playground game.” With that, he threw his rock phone on the ground. It didn’t actually silence Ares and Mars’s laughter, but it made him feel better. He could pretend that he’d hung up that godly phone call and he couldn’t hear them anymore.

That did still leave him with his new task, though, and now that he was thinking clearly he realized what an impossible task it was. Something that would make Horatius’s heroic act look like child’s play. Realistically, he hadn’t found a solution that was easier than fixing the chariot. At this point, he’d probably have more luck going back to Trip’s house and turning into a python and just resigning himself to a life of being a wheel. 

Frank knew who Horatius was. He wasn’t exactly a fan of learning about all the different battles and wars from Roman history, but everyone and their cousin’s dog had heard the story of Horatius. That legendary Roman general who had stood firm on a bridge and held off an entire army of barbarians single-handedly. He’d sacrificed himself, but his efforts had given his fellow Romans time to finish their defenses. He’d fought an army on his own, and in turn saved the Republic itself. And now Frank had to top that, which wouldn’t be easy, considering the fact that even if he could beat an army, there wasn’t exactly an army for him to beat.

Then there was a loud moaning bleat and Frank looked up to see that a katobleps was snuffling at the poisonous vines growing out of the ground under a nearby cafe table and the mortals were all laughing and petting it. He looked around and was met by the sight of katoblepones as far as the eye could see. A whole army of them, a quiet voice in the back of Frank’s mind pointed out. A city overrun, and in need of a hero to make a stand.

With that decided, Frank started ripping up vines from the street around him, ignoring the way the toxins made his skin burn, and twisted them into a rope. He didn’t know if this would work, if this would be enough of a heroic act to get his father’s attention, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have time to think about his options. Best case scenario, he’d clear out Venice in heroic fashion, save the day, and go down in Roman demigod legend. Worst case scenario, he’d die helpless and alone to some shaggy cow-dog monsters, but at least he’d go down fighting like any good Roman should and he’d never have to face the fact that he failed. 

With his new belt made and lashed to his waist, Frank let out a loud whistle garnering the attention of every mortal and katoblepone in the plaza. “Hey, you stupid, ugly cows! Come and get me!”

Then he took off running down the street, pleased to hear a hoard of angry monsters on his heels. Apparently, word traveled fast in Venice, because as soon as he turned the corner, there was another herd charging him from the front. He didn’t think, he just acted, transforming into a giant lion and leaping gracefully over the monsters’ low-hanging heads. He let out a mighty roar, which they answered with their foghorn cries, and the chase began again. 

Frank wasn’t sure what exactly the mortals saw instead of a lion leading an angry cow parade of death (he hoped they didn’t just see an alley cat being chased by a bunch of stray dogs as that would be a little embarrassing) but it didn’t really matter because they all just got out of his way without fuss. He managed to find an open spot in the crowd and transformed back, only to be met with a sudden wave of nausea. The world spun around him, like he was too high up off the ground, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He turned to see the katoblepones were still chasing after him, still angry, but there wasn’t enough. He had probably better than two dozen on his tail, but that wasn’t good enough. The city is overrun. A hero must take a stand against the invaders. He once again whistled at them before he transformed into an eagle and took to the skies. He circled above them for a moment, then dove, slashing at them with his talons, then flew off down the street to find and enrage more monsters. 

He did this over and over again until he fell into a sort of rhythm. He led the monsters through town in the form of an animal – a dolphin for the canals, an eagle for the skies, a lion for the streets – stopping every now and then in human form to take a few stabs at them with Hazel’s spatha or pick off a few with his bow to really get them riled up. Every time he transformed back into his human form, he ached, his limbs feeling too long, his clothes feeling too tight, but he pressed onward. Hazel was dying, Nico was a corn plant, and the world was at stake. He’d deal with his cramps when he was done.

Soon though, he had managed to get every katobleps in Venice on his tail, and it was time to move on to the final, and most crazy dangerous part of his plan. It was time to make a stand, and he knew exactly where he needed to make it the moment he saw it.

It was an old lattice timber bridge that arched across one of the wider canals. From his vantage point as an eagle, he could see that there were no katobepones on the other side, and he landed as a human in the crest of the bridge. 

“Come on!” he roared in a voice he hardly recognized as his own. The katoblepones roared back. “You want me? Come and fucking get me! I’ll show you what kind of hero I am!”

The katoblepones charged, and Frank’s vision went red. He was a whirlwind of death, sword slashes bleeding into claws sinking into flesh. He screamed until his voice went hoarse, then changed form so that he could let out another war cry. The monsters kept coming in endless waves, but Frank never stopped. He kept moving, kept fighting, even when his body screamed in pain and his lungs burned with poison. He should have died, but he refused, changing forms as easily as breathing. He was a lion, an elephant, a dragon, a man, whatever he needed to be to beat his enemy. He was death itself, and he could not, would not be stopped.

When the air was finally still, Frank fell to his hands and knees, the gold glitter of monster dust piled up past his wrists and puffing up in clouds around him. He heaved in lungfuls of air, tears stinging at the backs of his eyes. He remembered every katoblepone, every snap of his jaws, every slice of his sword, every panicked cry for mercy. Every one of them flashed before his eyes in crystal clear high definition, and he knew in that moment that he would never forget this act, even when no one else remembered.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You did it, son.” Frank looked up to see Mars himself standing in front of him in a red beret and olive fatigues that marked him as a member of the Italian Special Forces. He looked at the carnage surrounding them, and his eyes seemed haunted and sad. “You did well.”

 “I killed them,” Frank gasped. “I killed every last one of them.”

“You did what you had to do. You claimed your bridge and you defended it,” Mars said calmly. “War isn’t pretty, son. It’s a lot of death and destruction, and that changes a man. Sometimes it breaks him, sometimes it makes him a hero.”

“I’m not a hero,” Frank gritted out. He was trembling from head to foot in agony and the terror that was finally catching up to him. 

“Well, you certainly haven’t let it break you,” Mars countered. “You were scared. So what? Only a damned fool wouldn’t have been scared. Everyone gets scared, but a hero faces that fear and overcomes it. You did exactly that, and your act of heroism is what has allowed me to be here with you now.”

“I just– I just needed a snake,” Frank stammered.

“And you have one,” Mars said. There was a flash of blood red light and a Burmese python was balled up between his splayed palms. “Rise, Frank Zhang. You have done well. You saved this city, and you will save your friends. But hear me when I say this: Your greatest challenges are yet to come. You faced your fears today, and have proven yourself a hero, but soon the time will come for you to prove yourself a leader. When that time comes, you must rise again, my son.”

Frank gulped but got to his feet, snake in hand. “Thank you, father.”

Mars’s mouth curled up in the faintest idea of a smile for a moment before it twisted up in pain, and he doubled over with a scream. For a moment his form flickered. He was in a leather biker outfit, then a toga, then an Army uniform from World War II, then back to his Italian Special Forces look. He gritted his teeth and looked Frank in the eye. “Go! Run! I can’t hold this for much longer!”

Frank ran without another question. He ran until he heard one last agonized scream and blood red light flashed across Venice. He ran until his legs cramped and he couldn’t breathe.

He stopped for a rest next to a shop with a big window, polished until it reflected the cheerful sight of Venice back at itself, and he leaned against it, trying to catch his breath. When his heart rate was back to normal, he looked up at himself, trying to see the hero his father saw in him, only for his heart to plummet into the depths of the earth. The man staring back at him wasn’t Frank Zhang, at least not the Frank he knew. This man was taller, even broader and heavier than before, with a hard, sharp jawline. His Camp Jupiter shirt was so tight across his new barrel chest that it was splitting at the seams, and when he murmured, “Oh my gods,” his voice was an octave deeper than it was supposed to be. He was still recognizable as himself, if just barely, but this wasn’t the face of a thirteen-year-old kid anymore. 

War isn’t pretty, son… it changes a man.

Frank heaved out a sob and vomited in the street. 

Frank stormed through the front door of La Casa Nera and thrust the snake into Trip’s chest with a scowl. “Fix them.”

Trip blinked, clearly startled that he was now looking up at Frank, but he let out a jovial laugh. “Well, I’ll be! You really are something aren’t you?”

Frank’s scowl deepened. “Fix them.”

Trip narrowed his eyes, but he kept his smile in place. “Well, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves! You’ve just brought me a snake. We don’t even know if this will work.”

“It’s a gift from Mars,” Frank gritted out. “It will work.” As if waiting for its cue the snake in Trip’s arms suddenly threw itself to the floor and slithered over towards the waiting chariot and wrapped itself around the spoke, replacing its fallen brother. The other snake woke up from its nap, and the both of them started writhing in perfect unison, and the wings flapped joyously above them. If the chariot had ever worked in the first place, it was certainly working now.

Trip’s smile soured slightly. “Well. Isn’t that nice.”

“You said you’d fix them if I fixed your chariot,” Frank reminded him. “I fixed your chariot, now do your part.”

“Now, now! I never said any such thing!” Trip corrected. “I said we’d talk about it! Why, I still think–”

Frank cut him off with one brutally efficient move. He grabbed Trip by the straps of his overalls and lifted him up off the ground, then slammed him into a nearby wall and pinned him in place. When he spoke his voice was a quiet, even growl. “Are you interested in what it takes to kill an abandoned, forgotten minor god? Because I am more than willing to help you find out.”

Trip’s face was pale, and his breathing was shallow. His voice trembled when he spoke. “Y-You don’t have what it takes.”

Frank pressed him to the wall a little harder, and looked him directly in his eyes, which were shining with fear. “Is that a theory you’re really willing to test?”

Silence bloomed between them, tense and heavy, before Trip cut his furious gaze away. “Very well.”

Frank dropped him to the ground and stepped back, expression still just as deadly as it was before. “Fix them.”

Trip cast a nervous glance at him as he scurried around to all of his planter boxes collecting various herbs into a little mortar and pestle, quickly grinding them up into a green paste. He approached Hazel’s bedside, but Frank held out a hand to stop him, and Trip scowled petulantly. “This will heal her?” Frank demanded.

“Yes, of course!”

“Swear it. On the River Styx.”

Trip blustered in offense. “Just who do you take me for? I said it would heal her, so you–”

“Swear it,” Frank repeated, his lip curling up.  

Trip gulped heavily, eyes wide. “I swear. I swear on the River Styx that I will heal your friends.” There was a distant roll of thunder that answered his words, and Frank nodded, giving Trip room to apply some of the green gunk under Hazel’s tongue.

Instantly, Hazel sat straight up with a gasp and a loud gagging sound, and Frank rushed to her side, gently grabbing her biceps to steady her. “Hazel! You’re okay, just breathe, alright?”

Hazel looked up at him, eyes wild, and she flinched away. “Wh-who are you?” 

Frank felt another wave of tears sting at his waterline, and his voice went a little wobbly. “Hazel,  I– It’s me, Hazel. Please?”

Hazel squinted at him, still suspicious before her eyes went wide. “Fr-Frank?”

“Yeah, Hazel,” Frank choked out. “It’s me. I promise, it’s me.”

Hazel just squeezed her eyes shut and looked away.

Frank sucked in a deep, shaking breath and turned to Trip, focusing as hard as he could on not crying. “Now, fix Nico.”

Trip’s face puckered, but he snapped his fingers, and where the corn plant had been moments before, Nico appeared with a startled noise, stumbling forward a few steps before Frank caught him. He blinked up at Frank, his dark eyes cloudy with confusion. Why are you tall?”

“It’s… a long story.”

Nico opened his mouth to question him, but Trip cut in with a frustrated noise. “Well, I did what you wanted, you awful warmonger. I healed the girl and changed the boy back from corn. Now, take them both and go!”

“Corn?” Nico asked softly.

Frank winced. “He, uh, turned you into a stalk of corn. Sorry.”

Nico grimaced and shuddered. “Not the first time it’s happened.” That left Frank with more than a few questions, but Nico turned just on the pouting god with a scowl. “Well, this was a waste of a trip.” His brow furrowed. “No pun intended.”

“Well, if it was such a waste, you’re more than welcome to leave!” Trip snapped. “I certainly don’t want you!”

“No,” Frank said firmly, stepping forward. “You said something before. You have something we need to get through the House of Hades.”

Trip looked like he’d swallowed a lemon but he gestured at a nearby planter full of tall stalks of some kind of grain. “There, take it. It’s barley.”

Hazel furrowed her brow. “We need… grass?”

“It’s a grain, death spawn,” Trip spat. Frank took another step forward and Trip immediately straightened his posture and averted his gaze. “Like I told you before. Grain grown by a god is good at absorbing poisons. Grind that up into flour and make it into cakes and eat them before you enter the Necromanteion. It won’t completely nullify the effects of the potions, but it will lessen their effects so that you might survive. If I’m lucky none of you will ever see the light of day again, though.”

“Thanks,” Frank said shortly, ignoring the last sentence. He stepped over to the planter and observed the grass. He figured he probably shouldn’t just rip it up from the dirt. Then his eyes fell on a nearby sickle leaning against the wall and he shrugged. That’ll do.

With their prize secured, Frank turned back to Nico and Hazel, who were both watching him like they were waiting on him to give the next order. He cleared his throat. “Let’s, uh, get back to the ship. I’ll, um, explain when we get there.”

“Good riddance to the lot of you,” Trip huffed. Frank faked a lunge at him and Trip let out a yelp and scrambled backwards. “Just go!”

The three of them left through the front door, and Frank noticed that Nico immediately put his hand on his sword, scanning the area for monsters, only to find nothing. He frowned. “Where are–”

“I killed them,” Frank said quietly. “I had to prove myself a hero, so I killed them all.”

“That’s amazing, Frank,” Hazel gasped. “There had to have been a dozen–”

“No,” Frank cut her off. He wasn’t looking at them, he couldn’t. His shoulders hiked up near his ears as every death flashed before his eyes again. “I killed them all. Every last katoblep in Venice. I killed it.”

The words hung heavy and tense in the air between them. Nico took a deep breath and nodded, placing a hand on Frank’s arm. “You did what you had to. You saved Hazel and me. Thank you.” Frank just nodded tersely, so Nico dropped his hand. “Let’s go.”

They walked back to the ship in complete silence. Every now and then, Nico would glance up at him, then over to Hazel, but he didn’t ask any of the questions he so clearly had. Hazel just stayed on Nico’s other side, away from Frank. She kept her eyes on the ground and her arms wrapped around herself in a comforting hug, and Frank couldn’t help but think about how they’d held hands and walked down these very streets less than two hours ago. The thought made his chest feel like it was about to cave in, so he just swallowed thickly and ignored it.

When they finally made it back on deck, Percy was waiting for them with Hedge, playing a game of paper football. Hedge had just eaten the little paper triangle, and Percy looked like he was about to complain, but his eyes fell on them, and he grinned, abandoning his game and bounding over towards them. “Hey, guys! How’d everything– woah. What happened to you, big guy?”

Frank looked down at Percy, and it was weird because Percy looked so small now. It had been one thing to see Nico and Hazel looking up at him, but they were already tiny even before his magical growth spurt. To see Percy, who had always seemed larger than life, big enough to fill any room he was in, looking up at him made panic squeeze at Frank’s heart. This was real. He was changed, forever, and he’d never get to be the kid who went down to Venice ever again. “I–I–”

“It’s a long story,” Nico cut in. “Can you get Annabeth and Jason down to the mess hall for a meeting?”

Percy’s steady gaze never left Frank’s face, studying him closely, but he nodded. “Yeah. We’ll meet below deck in five minutes.”

They separated, and Nico led the way down to the mess hall. Just as promised, Percy joined them with Annabeth and Jason just a few minutes later, faces serious. Nico started the story, talking about how they had made the trip through Venice and the first run-in with the katoblepones and the demented god of farming. He trailed off then, and Frank quietly took over, his sentences short and clipped as he reviewed making the deal with Trip, the challenge set by Mars and Ares, and the resulting battle.

“And-And now I’m just, uh, stuck like this,” he finished, gesturing at his new form. He still couldn’t look at anyone.

Annabeth had her eyes shut, and she took a deep breath like she was trying to steady her nerves. When she looked at him, she looked sad. “You did good, Frank. What happened after you made it back to Triptolemus?”

“He gave us the answer for the House of Hades,” Nico answered for him. “He said the secret is apparently this magical barley he gave us, and ordered us to make cakes out of it. It’s supposed to absorb some of the poison when we’re making our way down.”

Annabeth nodded, like she’d somehow been expecting that before she looked back at them. “Alright, the three of you go rest up. I’ll take over watch with Jason and we’ll get out of here ASAP, alright?”

“And let’s never come back,” Nico added darkly.

With that, the group disbanded, everyone going their own separate ways. Before they separated, Frank reached out a hand towards Hazel. “Wait, I–”

“I’ll talk to you later, Frank,” Hazel cut him off, her tone soft but cutting like a knife. “I’m–I’m really tired, okay?”

“I–” Frank swallowed thickly. “Yeah, okay. Talk to you later.”

Then, she was gone. Frank wandered back to his room in a daze, eyes burning. He flopped down on the bed – it felt too small for him now, just like everything else – and stared at the ceiling. Frank knew that everyone but him and Hazel had customized rooms, but Leo hadn’t known anything about the other two demigods who would be joining the quest, so he’d left the room a blank slate with the intention of its inhabitant bringing in their own touches of home. Frank hadn’t gotten the opportunity to do that, of course. They’d left New Rome in a panic, and they hadn’t really had time to stop by a home decor store since then, so Frank’s room was the same blank Spartan cabin it had been the moment he stepped foot in it. He couldn’t help but think that had been a mistake. It hadn’t seemed important before this moment, but right now Frank wanted so desperately to wrap himself up in anything that reminded him of his old self, even if it was just a stupid blanket.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door, and he sat up ramrod straight, heart pounding in his throat in desperate hope. “C-Come in!”

However, instead of Hazel, Percy pushed open the door, wearing a wry grin. “Hey. I know I’m not who you were looking for, so can I still come in?” 

Frank nodded silently, so Percy walked across the room to sit next to him on the bed. He leaned back on his hands, a peaceful expression on his face, and Frank just studied him. He was starting to realize that Percy wasn’t really all that big, even disregarding the recent perspective change. He was a little taller than average, sure, but he was lean rather than overtly muscular like Jason, and his shoulders weren’t noticeably broad or anything like that. Realistically, he probably hadn’t been all that much bigger than Frank from the get-go. He just seemed large because of the way he held himself: chin up, shoulders squared, and oozing confidence. He’s a real hero, Frank thought to himself bitterly, shrinking in on himself as much as he could. Not like me.

Silence filled the space for several moments before Percy hummed gently. “You wanna talk about it?”

Frank shrank back even more. “Do I have to?”

“Nah, course not,” Percy said easily. Then he met Frank’s eye and arched a brow at him. “But, speaking from experience, you’ll feel better if you do.”

Frank swallowed thickly and stared down at his toes. “I killed them. I didn’t even think, I just did it.”

“You saved Hazel and Nico is what you did,” Percy corrected. 

“That’s what Mars said.”

Percy hummed again, pursing his lips tightly. “Mars, huh? He the one who did… this?”

“I don’t know,” Frank admitted. “I-I think it actually had more to do with all the transforming I had to do. Or just maybe the whole battle. After everything, Mars appeared, and he told me that war changes people.”

“It does,” Percy agreed. “Take it from someone else who went on a killing spree and decimated an entire army. It’s–” He sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed. “It’s not easy, knowing you have the capacity for that kind of destruction hidden away beneath the surface.”

Frank squeezed his eyes shut. “Hazel’s scared of me now. She won’t even look at me.”

“Hazel’s scared, sure, but she’s not scared of you,” Percy told him, his voice firm. “You know Hazel, Frank. She’s got way too much love in her to be scared of someone she knows is as good as you are.”

“You really think so?” Frank asked, the words wobbling with hope. 

“I know so,” Percy smiled at him. Then he opened his arms. “Now, bring it in, big guy.”

Without thinking, Frank dove forward and allowed himself to be wrapped up in a hug for the first time in what felt like forever. He’d hugged Hazel before, but this was different. This reminded him of all those times he’d been a scared little kid and ran to his mom, only for her to laugh and scoop him up and squeeze him tight to her chest. Frank knew that Percy wasn’t going to be able to hold him like that, but when he tucked Frank’s head under his chin and patted his back while he sobbed like a little baby, he felt like a kid again.

And, right now, that was all he could ask for.

Chapter Text

Piper had never had a full-blown panic attack in her life. She’d come close in Medea’s Department Store and during the Cyclopes fight during their first quest, and she’d faked a panic attack to get out of trouble once or twice. She’d even had a girl in her seventh grade biology class who’d had them regularly, and she’d seen the tail end of one of Leo’s when he’d accidentally woken her up during a nightmare at Wilderness. So, yeah, she knew what panic attacks were, but she’d never had one herself.

That being said, she got the feeling she was about to have her very first one. She thought that this was a pretty fair time for her to finally reach her breaking point, all things considered. First, she’d been sent on a weeks-long quest to save the world, she’d been thrown into Tartarus, drank fire water to stay alive, fought demon ladies with nothing but a rock and sheer force of will, and then got deus ex machina’d by a giant glowing silver janitor who decimated the entire monster flock with his spear-broom. And now, that giant glowing silver janitor was using that very same spear-broom to carefully sweep up the gold monster dust into neat little piles that he then stomped into nothingness with a cheerful, “Poof!” 

Piper could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her palms were clammy, her breaths rattled in and out of her lungs, her vision swam. She was–

Her spiral was cut off by Leo making a loud, comically distressed sound, and she whipped her head around to see him frantically patting at a wound on his shoulder. “Fuck fuck fuckity fuck!” he swore. “One of those vampire cheerleader things fucking bit me! Am I going to turn into a half-donkey vampire now? Piper, am I gonna turn into a cheerleader?”

“You’d need more than a monster transformation to get you on even the most desperate cheer squad,” Piper told him without thinking. He flipped her off. “And, besides, that’s not how empousai work.”

“You were the one who called them vampires!”

“I said they were like vampires! There’s a difference!”

“Semantics!”

“Ouchie?” Piper and Leo both looked up to see the janitor standing over them with a concerned frown on his face. He reached forward, ignoring Piper and Leo’s squawked protests, to press his finger to Leo’s forehead, and there was a bright flash of light. “No ouchie!”

Leo blinked in shock, and reached back to gingerly touch the unmarred skin where his wound had been moments before. “Uh, thanks, big guy. Think you can do Pipes next?”

“Wait, no, I–”

“No ouchie!” the janitor said brightly, before poking Piper right between the eyes with his gigantic finger.

Stars danced in Piper’s vision from the flash, blinding her for a moment, but when they cleared, she realized that she felt much better. In fact, she felt almost good. Not just the aches and pains from Kelli throwing her into a rock, but also the blisters from their rock climb and the sharp little paper cuts on her lungs from the poisonous air. Hell, even her mostly-healed but still painful shoulder injury from Rome was fixed. “Uh, thanks.”

The janitor beamed at her. “You’re welcome, Friend of Percy!”

“That’s the second time you’ve called us that,” Leo accused, though he managed to make his voice sound cheerful and conversational. “You said your name’s, uh, Bob, was it?”

“Yes!” Bob the Giant Janitor agreed. “Bob Bob Bob. I am Bob!”

“Right,” Piper said slowly. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bob, but how, exactly, did you find us?”

“It was not easy,” Bob said seriously. “Friend Nico called and said Friends of Percy were in Tartarus and needed help, so I helped! Took a very long time to find you.”

“Okay, and how did you get down here?”

“I jumped.”

“You… jumped?”

“Yes! I work in Hades’s palace. I clean and fix things! Nico said Friends of Percy needed help, so I jumped.” He cocked his head and studied her closely. “You are Friends of Percy, yes?”

Piper felt her nose wrinkle involuntarily. “Well, I wouldn’t–”

Leo slapped his hand over her mouth and nodded eagerly. “Oh, yeah, dude, absolutely! Percy Jackson? He’s, like, our bestie five-ever. We are so tight.”

“Yay! Then I have found Friends of Percy!” Bob cheered before he turned on his heel and started trotting off. “Now, follow me, Friends of Percy! They are coming soon.”

As soon as his back was turned, Piper scrambled to face Leo. “Can we trust him?” she hissed. “I’m, like, ninety percent certain this guy is a Titan. Ninety-five even. Last I checked, Titans are bad news.”

Leo considered that for a moment before he glanced over at Bob’s retreating back. “I mean, he’s got Nico and Percy vouching for him, so he’s probably not all bad. Besides, what choice do we really have? You saw how well we handled the last pep-rally. I want back up  before the varsity squad shows up.”

Piper didn’t really have any kind of argument for that, so they rushed to follow behind Bob, though they carefully kept out of earshot. It was still plenty easy to follow him, though, seeing as he was basically a walking lighthouse in the sea of darkness. 

“So, what makes you think this guy is a Titan, anyway?” Leo asked quietly. “Other than the whole, you know–” he gestured at Bob’s whole everything.

“It’s a story Thalia told me when she stopped by Camp that one time,” she answered, equally quiet. “Apparently, she went down to the Underworld with Percy and Nico and they wound up fighting a Titan named Iapetus and he fell in the Lethe–”

“Remind me what that does.”

“Makes you forget everything. Anyway, when he came back up, he was a totally blank slate. Percy named him Bob and Nico set him up to be taken care of by Hades.”

“And they just… left him like that?” Leo asked, casting an odd look at Bob. “They just zapped him into having no memory of anything, pretended to be his friends, then left him to be a cosmic janitor? That’s kinda fucked up.”

“I-I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Piper admitted. She hadn’t, really. It had just seemed like a cool story, an impressive victory from an impressive girl, when Thalia told it to her. Now, she couldn’t help but think about Jason. About how he’d been so wide-eyed and freaked out on the bus when they’d met. It would have been so easy for someone to take advantage of him. She tried not to think about it. “Well, I mean, he seems happy.”

Leo didn’t look very impressed. “Happy as he can be, I guess.” 

Fortunately, Piper didn’t have too long to dwell on that because Bob came to a sudden stop in front of them and gestured at a tiny toppled ruin. “We’re here!”

“And where, exactly, is here?” Leo asked cautiously, climbing over a crumbled brazier to get a better look around.

“It’s a rest stop!”

Piper narrowed her eyes and investigated. She saw little doves and scallop shells lovingly etched into some of the rocks, and she felt the sharp sting of familiarity at the sight. “I… think this is a shrine. To Aphrodite, maybe?”

“How the hell did a shrine to Aphrodite wind up in, well, hell?” Leo asked.

“It got here because–” Bob cut himself off with a puzzled frown. “I don’t remember.”

“It’s not important,” Piper said quickly. She may have some mixed feelings about taking advantage of an amnesiac, but she also didn’t really want Bob trying too hard to work on that memory of his. “You said this was a rest stop?”

“Yes,” Bob agreed. “Food will be here… soon. Not sure how long, though. Time is difficult in Tartarus.”

“Right,” Leo agreed. He glanced at Piper and held out his hands. “Well, I’m hungry now. Hit me with the gross candy.” Piper held up the Cornucopia, but instead of candy, a mess of pudding and soggy cake fell out and Leo squawked, dropping it into a splattered pile at his feet. “Dude, gross! What the hell?”

 “I think it was tiramisu,” Piper said carefully, poking at the mess he’d made. “It’s a layered dessert made out of sponge cakes soaked in coffee and a custard-type thing.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “This one’s got bacon in it for some reason, though. I can try summoning some more for you, but I can’t eat it. I’ll just wait for whatever food is coming.”

Leo looked a little green. “If it’s coffee flavored, I’m not eating it. Coffee makes me sick.”

“Well, wasn’t that kind?” Piper said sourly. She glanced up at Bob, who had watched the whole exchange with mild fascination. “Do you want some tiramisu?”

He considered that for a moment before he held out his hand. “Bob will try tiramisu.”

Piper summoned a portion for him, then a couple more to make up for his gigantic size, before she looked back at Leo with a wry smirk. “Think it’s your birthday? Apparently, this thing likes to give birthday boys cake.”

“I mean, it could be,” Leo shrugged. “Would mean we’ve been down here a week, though. My birthday’s July seventh.”

Piper startled and whipped her head around to look at him. “Wait, what? What do you mean your birthday is July seventh? Why didn’t I know that?”

“Uh, maybe because I didn’t tell you?” Leo grinned. “So, anyway, whose birthday did you celebrate? Frank?”

“Jason, actually,” Piper told him. “Your birthdays are exactly a week apart. Congrats on having a star sign buddy.”

For some reason, Leo looked stricken at the news. “Jason’s birthday is a week before mine? As in on the first of July?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“So, Jason’s birthday was on the day we were in Rome?”

“Yeah.” Piper shook her head. “Look, if you’re upset about him not telling anyone, it’s not his fault. He straight up didn’t know.”

“It’s not that,” Leo said urgently. “Piper, what happened in Rome?”

She wracked her brain, going over the day. A lot of shit had happened, quite frankly. She, Jason and Percy had almost drowned at the hands of evil water nymphs, Jason had played gladiator with Percy against a pair of Giants to entertain a god, Annabeth had her quest and– She cut herself off with a gasp. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Leo said grimly. “Happy sixteenth birthday, now watch your friends fall into Tartarus.”

Piper heaved a shaky sigh as she sat down against what remained of a pillar. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure you’re having a worse birthday, so at least he won’t have the right to complain.”

Leo snorted and sat down beside her. “Believe it or not, that doesn’t help.”

She shot him a grin and Bob cleared his throat, having finished his snack. “Bob likes tiramisu,” he decided. “Bob will keep watch now. Friends of Percy, you will rest.”

Immediately, Leo bristled like an alley cat at the mere mention of sleep, but Piper just scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll stay up, too. You get some sleep, alright?”

Leo didn’t look entirely convinced, shooting glances at Bob, but he relented, just like Piper knew he would. “Don’t let me die,” he ordered, shuffling around so that he could rest his head in her lap. 

She smiled down at him and combed her fingers through his hair, gently untangling the knots one by one. “Course not. Only thing allowed to kill you in here is me, and I don’t have that scheduled until I get sick of you when we’re in our nineties.”

Leo snorted and nestled closer to her. “Night, Pipes. Wake me up for my shift. You need sleep, too.”

“Night, Leo.”

“I mean it. Wake me up.”

“Good night, Leo,” she said forcefully, tugging on a curl. He grumbled quietly, but made no further protest. 

It only took Leo five minutes to fall asleep, which was how Piper knew things really were that bad. Yes, everything up until that moment had been awful, of course it had, but the fact that Leo had been worn down to the point that he could just cuddle up to her and fall asleep in minutes? That felt like some kind of intrinsic law of the universe had been flipped on its head. 

She just kept combing her fingers through his hair, though, and smiled softly when Bob crept a little closer, eyes wide and curious. “Friend of Percy is asleep?” he asked in a gentle whisper.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “His name’s Leo by the way. You don’t have to just call us Friends of Percy. My name’s Piper.

“Piper,” Bob said slowly, like he was seeing how the letters felt in his mouth. “Piper and Leo. Leo and Piper. Friends of Percy, Piper and Leo.”

She grinned up at him. “Do you think we might be able to be promoted to Friends of Bob by the end of this?”

Bob beamed at her and he shined so bright she was a little worried he might wake Leo up. “Bob would like that, Friend Piper.”

She hummed softly and leaned against the pillar as her conversation with Leo from before played in her mind. Surely it wouldn’t count as taking advantage of Bob if she actually befriended him, right? “So, you said that you work in the palace. Do you like it? Does Hades treat you well?”

Bob’s smile faltered for a moment and when it came back, it seemed a little more hollow than before. “Bob likes being helpful. Lord Hades has lots of messes for Bob to clean up, so Bob is very useful, and Friend Nico visits often as well, which Bob always likes. But…” he trailed off for a moment, looking out over the gray landscape. “Bob can’t help but feel a little stuck.”

Piper’s heart ached and she looked away from him. Bob was a Titan. He was meant to be a warrior, but he was stuck cleaning up messes he didn’t make and only looking forward to occasional visits from his one friend. It was no wonder he was yearning for more, even if subconsciously. “Well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit you in person, but I promise to IM you lots after this.”

Bob smiled at her then, and it wasn’t as literally bright as some of his others, but it seemed more warm and genuine. “Bob would like that very much.”

Her eyes stung and she forced a smile. “I would, too.”

They were quiet for a moment before Bob looked at her curiously again. “Friend Piper, why are you and Friend Leo in Tartarus? Demigods do not belong in Tartarus. Lots of monsters who would like to eat you. You smell good: like fresh pie.”

Piper ignored that last bit and sighed. “Bit of a long story, to be honest. We were on a quest with Percy and Nico and our other friend Annabeth was in trouble. I managed to help her, but I got trapped. Leo knew he couldn’t save me, so he fell into Tartarus so I wouldn’t have to face it alone.”

“Friend Leo is a good friend,” Bob said gently.

“He is,” Piper agreed, and she had to work very hard to not cry. “He’s my best friend and it’s all my fault he’s in Tartarus.”

Bob was quiet for a moment, just watching her. “I think Friend Piper is a good friend, too.”

Piper’s eyes squeezed shut and her fingers stilled in Leo’s curls. Somehow they were still so very soft after apparently a week in hell. She thought back to all the afternoons she and Leo had spent obsessively caring for his curls together, and how he’d tried to tell her over and over again that she didn’t have to waste her time on it. She’d never listened, more than happy to spend that time with him. Her voice was thick and a little wet when she spoke, “Thank you. You’re a pretty good friend yourself, you know.”

They were quiet again before Piper broke it. “Hey, Bob? You said before that someone was coming. Who’s that someone?”

“Giants,” Bob said easily. “And Titans. I can sense them, and they are coming for you. Demigods smell good.”

“Like fresh pie, you said that,” Piper gulped. She bit her lower lip and glanced up at Bob. “Do you… know how to get out of Tartarus, Bob?”

Bob’s face fell. “No…”

“Well, Leo and I have an idea,” she said cautiously. “We’re– We’re looking for the Doors of Death. Do you think you could help us get there? You could come with us back up to the surface. Maybe we can find something else for you other than working at Hades’s palace.”

“The Doors of Death,” Bob said slowly, his brows knit tight together. “Yes… It will be difficult, but Bob will lead the way.”

Piper’s heart leapt into her throat, and for the first time she let herself hope. “Really?”

Bob smiled, and as if rewarding her for having the audacity to hope, the brazier flared to life, and food came tumbling out. Piper gaped in shock at the display, but Bob seemed unphased. “Food is here!”

“I can see that,” Piper marveled, leaning over to get a closer look at the spread. It was only a bunch of tiny bits of food: Half a slice of cheese pizza, a spoonful of mac and cheese, a roast beef sandwich, some grapes, and six bright pink sour straws braided into the shape of a heart. Piper’s eyes widened. “Wait is this–”

“Jason!” Leo screamed, shooting straight up from sleep into high-alert panic mode. His eyes were wide and wild as he whipped his head around, scanning for danger like he always did after nightmares. Unfortunately, instead of finding himself in a secure location to calm down, he was in Tartarus. 

Piper still lurched forward and grabbed his biceps. “Leo! Listen to me! I’ve got you. We’re together.”

Leo was still shaking from head to toe, every muscle tensed, like he was ready to bolt, but he kept his gaze locked on hers. He took in a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Yeah. Together. You and me.”

Piper gave him the most genuine smile she could manage. “Me and you.”

“And Bob!” Bob added cheerfully. “Food time, Friend Leo.”

“Uh, right,” Leo agreed shakily. He shook his head, then looked down at the food before them. “Wait, you weren’t joking. This is real food.”

“I think they’re burnt offerings,” Piper explained, reaching over to grab a little falafel patty. It was kind of gross eating off the floor, but, well, she wasn’t in the best position to be picky. Besides, the falafel was so good that she probably would have eaten it off most floors in most situations. It was perfectly crisp on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside, and spiced warmly with a blend she’d come to know well over the past few months.

“Burnt offerings?” Leo echoed. “Wait, do you mean these are coming from Camp?”

Piper nodded and picked up the sour straw heart. “Yeah. Lacy makes one of these every meal to burn for our mom. If these aren’t offerings from the Aphrodite Cabin, that’s a wild coincidence. Like, astronomical.”

Leo stared in wonder for another moment before he reached forward and grabbed the sandwich. “If we make it out of here, Aphrodite Cabin should be free from KP for, like, a month.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Piper laughed. She and Leo both chowed down for a bit, the rest stop/shrine silent other than Bob’s contented humming. She chewed on her falafel and questions for a moment before she elbowed Leo gently. “So, was that a normal nightmare or…?”

He groaned and rubbed at his forehead. “I dunno. I’m guessing it was a demigod dream, but I have no idea what it means. Like, it definitely wasn’t, like, a normal dream.”

“What was it?”

“It kind of started off normal,” Leo shrugged. “You know, just normal runaway orphan flashbacks, except you and Jason were also there sometimes? Then it got weird and I was running towards Camp, but it was wrecked and the Athena Parthenos was booking it after me, shouting something about Romans and deliveries. Then when I looked at her I realized it was actually a giant statue of Reyna? It was weird. Then I–” He cut himself off, cheeks darkening, and he looked away from her. “And that was basically the end of it.”

Piper got the feeling that was not the end of it because she wasn’t stupid, but she was a good friend, so she let it drop. “So, you’re telling me that the Reyna Parthenos was chasing you towards Camp, yelling at you about courier services?”

“Yeah, basically,” he confirmed. He furrowed his brow, obviously trying very hard to remember what, exactly, Statue Reyna had said. “She said that she needs to stand there, but that a Roman – the Roman must be the one to bring her, and a message needs to be sent. Actually, she said, ‘Tell her the message must be sent,’ and you’re the only her I’m seeing, so I guess you’re up to bat.”

Piper squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get her mind clear enough to think. The Roman – obviously Reyna – needed to deliver the Athena Parthenos, and Piper had to find a way to get her a message to tell her to do that. And, somehow or another, that message had to be enough to convince Reyna to abandon her legion, whom she was leading into war, fly to the Forbidden Lands, and come back bearing the symbol of her enemy. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that this request was coming from the person who basically stole her best friend and was part of the crew that fired a warship on her home. So, you know, a pretty please xoxo probably wasn’t going to cut it.

 Her eyes fell on the brazier before her, of all the little symbols of Aphrodite etched into it, and she suddenly thought about the first time she’d spoken to her mother. It had been a dream, one set in a department store that Piper had helped blow up the previous day, and Aphrodite had warned her about the trials that awaited her, but more importantly of the role she would play. You will lead others across that bridge, Aphrodite had said. You just need to love. Piper squared her jaw, as she reached for a stack of napkins that had appeared alongside the food. “Give me something to write with.”

Leo stuffed his hand in his tool belt and pulled out a couple of random things before he handed over a carpenter’s pencil. “Uh, why?”

“I’m writing a letter,” she explained, entirely focused on her scribbling. “To Reyna.”

That wasn’t entirely true. The first letter she wrote was actually to Rachel, explaining her desperate plan, and another to Drew, letting her know what was happening. But the third was to Reyna. She didn’t have a plan for what she wanted to write, she just put her pencil to paper and poured every word from the depths of her heart. She told her story, from the moment she’d been dropped off at Wilderness, meeting Leo and Jason, their very first quest, and their desperate attempts to save the world now. She talked about what had actually happened at New Rome with Leo’s possession and her genuine, heartfelt apology for the harm they had inadvertently caused. She talked about how Jason would sometimes tell them about the flashes of his old life that he remembered, and how his eyes would get misty when he brought up the home he loved so much and the girl he couldn’t really place but knew meant the world to him. She talked about the jealousy she’d felt arriving at New Rome and seeing Jason’s home and meeting this girl who was so important to him, and how she’d immediately understood how Jason could love them both. 

And then came her plea. Her desperate plea for Reyna to understand, to know that this couldn’t be done without her help. That Piper needed her to do the impossible, and how it was a cruel, unfair demand to make, but it was what had to happen. That in this moment Piper needed her more than anything.

She managed to squeeze her last word to Reyna on the very last square inch of paper, then she folded one of the napkins into a little heart envelope that Valentina had taught her how to make and addressed it.

To: My Rotten Big Sister Drew

Love: Garbage Girl (Also, yes it’s really me, not Goose trying to fuck with you, I promise)

Then she pushed the brazier so it was sitting at least mostly upright, and looked at Leo. “Mind lending me a light?” Leo held his open palm in the center of the brazier, a bright orange flame flickering almost hopefully. Piper sent up the most earnest prayer she’d ever prayed to her mom, then another to Hermes, just in case, and dropped her little envelope into the fire.

“You really think that will work?” Leo asked skeptically, watching the smoke curl cheerfully upwards.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Piper admitted. “I’m just kind of guessing, but if you had asked me thirty minutes ago if the burnt offerings from Camp would wind up here, I’d have told you no way.”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

“It is time to go now,” Bob declared suddenly, making Piper and Leo look up at him. His eyes were narrowed as he stared out at the horizon, his expression remarkably hard. “They are coming and they will be here soon. We must go to the Doors of Death now.”

Leo glanced over at Piper, eyebrows arched. “You told him about the Doors?”

“Yes,” Piper said firmly. “Bob’s our friend, and friends tell each other their plans. Right, Bob?”

“Yes, that is right!” Bob said cheerfully. “But we must make a stop first. Many monsters at the Doors. They will kill Friend Piper and Friend Leo very fast.”

“Good to know,” Leo grimaced. “Is there a way that, ah, doesn’t involve a monster army killing us?”

“Yes, the Death Mist,” Bob said. “We must see if the crying lady will give it to you.”

“Death Mist?” Piper squeaked. “Is that necessary? And who is the crying lady?”

“Not good to say her name,” Bob informed her matter of factly. “And yes. Death Mist is the only way. Will hide you from monsters.”

“Cool,” Leo sighed. “Well, you heard the man, Pipes. Time to hit the road again.”

They walked for a very long time. In fact, they walked for so long that Piper was certain that her feet should have been covered in blisters, but they felt just as fresh and new as ever. She wondered if Bob’s little magic “no ouchies” from before had a lasting effect, seeing as she also wasn’t slowly suffocating on the air anymore, either. Or maybe that last one was just her becoming more accustomed to the environment of Tartarus. She shuddered at the thought. Sure, suffering and agony in every breath wasn’t exactly fun, but somehow the lack of pain was almost worse. She was terrified at what growing used to Tartarus said about what she was becoming. 

She was suddenly jerked out of her thoughts by Bob’s hand grabbing her by her shirt collar before she could stumble into a crater. 

“Oh, gross, I think it’s one of those monster zits,” Leo commented, peering over the edge. Sure enough, down at the bottom of the crater was a blister, just like the ones she’d seen other monsters emerge from, but there wasn’t a monster in this one. Well, not exactly. It was the face of a person, a very large person who glowed with golden light and was fully decked out in a suit of Greek armor. As she studied his face, she couldn’t dismiss a feeling of odd familiarity because–

“He looks like me,” Bob said softly, staring down at the reforming Titan before him. He glanced down at his janitor uniform, which hung oddly over his own armor. “Gold not silver, but still the same.”

Piper felt her heart drop as she came to an awful realization. The Titan before her was Hyperion: Titan Lord of the Rising Sun. Twin brother to the Titan Lord of the Setting Sun, Iapetus. She took in a deep, calming breath, and let her voice go sweet when she said, “Bob? Let’s keep moving, yeah?” Beside her, she felt Leo stiffen, but she kept her attention on Bob.

“But…” Bob continued to stare. “But he looks like me.”

“Yes, but he isn’t you,” she told him firmly. “This is Hyperion. He’s… he’s a bad guy. One of the worst, in fact. He actually tried to kill Percy, you know.”

“He tried to kill Percy,” Bob echoed, sounding a bit lost. “His face–”

“He does look a whole lot like you,” Piper agreed. “But that doesn’t mean anything, right? He’s a bad Titan and you’re a good one. He tried to hurt your friends, Bob. You don’t want him to hurt your friends, do you?”

“No, I don’t want him to hurt my friends,” Bob murmured.

Piper beamed at him, and started playfully tugging at his arm. “Then come on! Let’s get out of here! We’ve got to go find the crying lady, remember?”

“Yes, we must find her,” Bob agreed. He turned to walk away before he paused and summoned the spearhead from his broom. In one flash of a movement, he pierced the blister, and the nearly-formed Titan turned into a puddle of golden sludge. “He will not hurt my friends. Hopefully, he will take a long time to reform, and he will be very far away.”

“Great idea, Bob!” Piper applauded. “Now, go ahead and lead the way!”

Bob turned on his heel, but not before Piper caught sight of his eyes shining with quicksilver tears.

They continued their walk, but Piper soon noticed that Leo was staring at his toes. When she nudged him, he refused to look at her, and she felt her mouth go arid. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugged noncommittally, still looking at anything but her. “Ah, you know me. Your Charmspeak just gives me the heeby-jeebies. That’s all.”

Piper wanted to believe him. It wasn’t a lie, after all. Unlike everyone else on the planet, Leo hated her Charmspeak. He said it made her voice sound warped and twisted into something it wasn’t. But it wasn’t the truth either. “I had to do that. That Titan would have killed us if he’d reformed. Bob might kill us if he remembers himself. I had to do that.” 

Leo paused and grabbed her hand, finally looking her in the eye, his gaze sharp and intense. “I get it, Piper. I really do. We’re doing whatever we have to do down here. I get it. I just– I just don’t like it.”

Piper swallowed thickly, but before she could say anything, Bob came to a sudden stop, his hand held up in the air in the universal sign for wait. “Shh,” he ordered, his voice soft but focused. “There is something ahead.”

Piper’s jaw clicked shut, and she listened as hard as she could. Unfortunately, Tartarus was a pretty noisy place, and she couldn’t pick out the threat Bob heard from the cacophony that made up the ambiance of the Pit. Even out here near the dark forest they had stumbled upon where the noise was muffled, she couldn’t figure out what Bob was talking about. “What is it?”

“Don’t know,” Bob admitted. “Take a flank. We will surround it.”

Beside her, Leo audibly gulped, but he reached into his tool belt and pulled out a rubber mallet and handed it to her. “Better than a rock?”

She took the offering gratefully, and they silently crept around their target, a bush Bob had his sights set on. Bob lifted his spear to attack, but before he could, a tiny little creature launched itself out of the bush, directly at Leo’s chest, causing him to yelp and stumble back a step and fall on his ass. Piper immediately felt panic flood her veins. “Leo!”

“It’s cool!” Leo called back, his voice bright and dancing with laughter. “It’s just a little dude!”

Piper took a cautious step forward to investigate, then shook her head, unable to believe the sight before her. Leo was sitting on the ground, grinning like a madman and cuddling a kitten. “What the hell is that?”

“This is the second most handsome little devil in Tartarus!” Leo declared, rubbing his nose against the kitten’s. In response, the kitten batted at his face. Then it sneezed, and for a moment its fur shimmered, and all of its bones became visible like some kind of light-up Halloween decoration. Leo didn’t seem to care and just smacked a loud kiss right between its ears. “After yours truly, of course.”

“Of course,” Piper agreed, rolling her eyes.

Bob’s eyes were wide and shiny as he crouched down before Leo and the kitten. “It is very small.”

“Yeah, he is. Do you wanna hold him?” Leo asked. Bob held out his hand and the kitten instantly squirmed out of Leo’s hold to land on the Titan’s palm and scale his arm so he could rub up against the underside of Bob’s chin, purring so loudly Piper could hear it from where she was standing. Leo let out another laugh. “Looks like you’ve got a new friend there, Bob!”

“It is… a good monster?” Bob asked cautiously, glancing at Piper. “Like Bob is a good Titan?”

Piper personally had a hard time believing that there was anything inherently good in Tartarus. It was Tartarus, after all, but the kitten was cute, and Bob looked so hopeful, so she just nodded. “Yeah. He’s good, just like you. A good monster and a good Titan. You two make a perfect pair.”

Bob considered the kitten even harder for a moment before he nodded. “There is a good Titan and a good monster and a good Giant.”

“Uh, well I don’t know about a good Giant–”

“No,” Bob said, his voice hard with determination. “There is a good Giant, too.”

Piper exchanged a glance with Leo, who just shrugged, helpful as ever. “Uh, sure. I guess there could be a good Giant out there somewhere. Maybe.”

Bob nodded seriously, then scratched the kitten under the chin. “I will call him Small Bob.”

Small Bob just purred even louder in response. 

Bob led their little questing party deeper into the woods, and Piper couldn’t help but stare at the– Well, in a normal forest, she’d call them trees, but these were definitely not trees. They were thick and dark and shot straight up out of the pale, squishy ground before curling up near the top where they swayed gently in the wind. They didn’t have any branches, but they seemed almost scaly like– 

Leo elbowed her, and when she looked at him, he gave her a shit-eating grin. “Over under that we’re wandering through Old Man Tartarus’s pubes?”

Piper immediately wretched and slugged him in the arm while he cackled. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 “Lots and lots.”

Suddenly, Small Bob let out a hiss, and Big Bob stiffened as well. “Something is coming again!”

Piper got the feeling that this time around it was not going to be a spooky little puppy to fill the role of Medium Bob, so she fell into formation beside Leo and Bob. Almost immediately, something fell out of the trees right in front of her. It was some kind of demon grandmother with gleaming bronze talons, massive condor wings, and a wrinkled face twisted up in a toothless grin of malicious delight. Her eye sockets were empty, but they glowed with an eerie red light. As if they were following a routine, hag after hag fell out of the sky one at a time, until they were surrounded with a couple dozen more hovering in the trees.

“Full offence, but what the fuck are you, pinche vieja?” Leo demanded, setting his hands on fire.

In unison, all of the women opened their gaping maws and a low hissing voice rang out around them. The arai. We are the curses. 

Piper gripped her mallet a little tighter. “Not to sound dumb, but, uh, what do you want?”

To curse you, the voice said simply, which, yeah, Piper could have guessed that much. You will face your transgressions, and bear the weight of those you have wronged. You will die a thousand times over, and suffer each one.

“Well, I’m glad it’s only a thousand times,” Piper said dryly. “I’d hate to think that someone was overreacting.”

There was a resounding shriek from all of the arai, and the demon bird grandmothers swooped in for the kill.

Chapter Text

I wish I had a banana split sundae, Hazel thought to herself, staring down the arm of the training dummy that had been the victim of Jason’s most recent bout of sword play. She could picture it perfectly: A long, crystal clear bowl with three scoops of ice cream – vanilla, chocolate, strawberry – topped with three perfect swirls of whipped cream and three bright red cherries, wedged between two halves of a banana, and drizzled with rich chocolate syrup. One of the drug stores she walked past to get to school in New Orleans had sold banana split sundaes, and she’d always wanted one, wanted it so bad she could almost taste it, but she’d never gotten the chance to have one. Now, she could have one if she focused. She’d been told by a goddess that she could bend the world around her to her liking if she really wanted it. Please turn into a banana split sundae.

Predictably, the arm stayed exactly as it was.

You’re not trying hard enough, Gale chided sharply from where she was watching Hazel’s pitiful display. Hazel wasn’t quite sure how she understood Gale, she knew that nobody else on the Argo II understood her, and she wasn’t talking, not exactly. It was more like Hazel just… understood her. She figured it was sort of like some of the Roman demigods, the ones who spent a longer time with Lupa’s pack or who went to her at a younger age, could communicate with Lupa and the other wolves. She’d heard it explained before in awkward, halting sentences, trying to use words that simply didn’t fit. They said it was just an inherent, innate understanding, like a whole new language sometimes dubbed Wolf Speak. Apparently, in addition to a crabby mentor, Hecate had gifted Hazel with Weasel Whisper. Gale bared her teeth and chittered like she somehow knew she’d been insulted. Focus!

“I’m trying!” Hazel snapped back. She waved her target around. “This is a piece of wood wrapped up in some straw and a t-shirt. How, exactly, do you want me to turn it into ice cream?”

This is why you fail, Gale said. You’re not meant to turn it to ice cream!

Hazel grit her teeth. Gale had been the one who told her to picture what she wanted to see and use that, but now, apparently, that was a stupid idea and also all Hazel’s fault because of course it was. “Then what am I meant to turn it into?”

You’re not meant to turn it to anything!

Hazel thought back to Percy’s muttered offer to throttle the polecat when he’d seen the little bite marks Gale had gifted her with, but she set that aside. “I’m confused. You told me I needed to change this into something. Something I wanted. Is the thing I’m turning it into meant to be real or not?”

Yes, but actually no, Gale squeaked. She scratched behind her ear and Hazel wondered if magic immortal polecats could get fleas. More accurately, no, but actually yes.

Hazel felt her temple throb. “Would you like to say something that makes sense?”

Gale cocked her head to the side and the glitter in her beady black eyes somehow looked amused. You’re trying to shape reality to your whim. What? Did you think it would be easy?

Hazel heaved a deep sigh and looked out over the ocean. If there was one good thing about her Mist Lessons with Gale, it was that they were distracting. With Gale barking and squeaking orders, she didn’t have time to think about the quest or Piper and Leo or her dreams or even about the fact that she was supposed to be sea sick. No, she was too focused on feeling like every inch of progress she made was met with a monumental backslide. She’d been so desperate for help that she’d actually asked Annabeth if she could call some of the Hecate kids at Camp Half-Blood for her. That hadn’t gone all that well, seeing as IMs were so sketchy these days, even with Hazel asking Flossy to do her a solid. Even when she had managed to get in contact, the Hecate kids weren’t really all that helpful. The Mist ran through their veins right alongside ichor, so reaching out and plucking at its strings was just as simple as reaching out and grabbing a pencil off the table. She could still Picture poor Lou Ellen’s forehead crumpled in frustration and focus as she waved her hands around and said, brilliantly, “You just… do it.”

Fortunately, Annabeth had overheard the conversation and offered her own advice. She wasn’t a magic user herself by any means, but she knew a bit about how certain things on the ship worked, and apparently that was Mist and Magic and Hecate-ness, and she’d even seen her friend Thalia manipulate the Mist on much smaller scales. She said it was about confidence. About belief. About wanting something so bad you could ignore the fact that it wasn’t possible. Thalia was confident she could get into any place she wanted, so security stepped back with a snap of her fingers. The Kerkopes had believed that the hand grenades could make green slime, so they did. Leo and the other Hephaestus kids and everyone at Camp had wanted this ship to fly so bad that it didn’t matter that it was a 50-ton boat with no wings or visible flight capabilities.

And that was the problem wasn’t it? Hazel wasn’t confident. She didn’t believe she could do this. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to anymore. She’d never really found her footing, not even in her first life, but things were even worse after she’d come back from the Underworld. It was strange, knowing she’d died when she was just a child, and the world had just… moved on. She doubted if the Alaskan town where she’d sacrificed herself had even mentioned her in an article beyond the obligatory obituary. She thought about poor Sammy Valdez, the one person who would remember her name with any fondness, and how she’d left him to die, thinking he’d cursed her. Then, to make matters worse, she’d gone and let his great-grandson fall into Tartarus. She didn’t know what she was doing, she was stuck on the sidelines most of the time and the one time she’d asked to lead one of their side quests, she’d gone and gotten herself poisoned while Frank had to be the real hero. Speaking of…

“Hazel? Are you okay?”

Hazel looked over at Frank and then up and up and up. It had been three days since Frank’s radical transformation in Venice, and she still wasn’t quite used to it. Frank had always been big but now he was just… He looked older, and not just physically. His eyes were different now, a little harder and distant. Sometimes, he got the same look Nico did after he spent too long with the dead. Sometimes, Hazel didn’t recognize him at first glance, and it always sent a bolt of terror right through her, like she was looking at a stranger. In some ways he was nothing like that boy who would always shyly volunteer to take the worst watch shifts with her and insisted on carrying anything over fifteen pounds when they were stuck mucking the stables together.

But at the same time, it was still Frank. He was still her very best friend who she loved so very much. He still tripped on his own feet and laughed when he got nervous and insisted on carrying heavy stuff for anyone shorter than him. The only difference was that “shorter than him” included the whole crew now. His eyes were still gentle when they looked at her and his smile still made her heart beat a little faster in her chest. He was still soft and strong and squishy and he still gave the very best hugs.

“I’m just tired, I think,” Hazel sighed, burying her face in his chest while he wrapped his arms around her. “I haven’t been sleeping right.”

“Dreams?” Frank asked, his voice colored with concern. “Is it–”

“It’s not got anything to do with the quest,” she assured him. “Well, I think it might have something to do with my quest, but not the rest of everything.” Her mind wandered to the dreams she’d been having. The highlight reel of all the most miserable moments of her life, always ending with the stark memory of her father on the stairs in New Orleans. Of his cold fingers and colder gaze and his words. The dead see what they believe they will see. So do the living. That is the secret. The words hollowly echoed in her head the same way they had in that stairwell, but they made just as little sense now as they did back then. 

“You mean the magic stuff?” Frank asked, and Hazel could hear the way his eyes shined with mystified wonder. “It’s so cool that you can do that.”

She was suddenly glad for another reason, other than the obvious, that she had her face pressed to Frank’s chest. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d spent the better part of an hour arguing with a polecat about ice cream, or how she’d failed spectacularly at turning Hedge’s club into a hot dog or even just back into a baseball bat. She didn’t want to tell him that they were sailing towards a battle they were counting on her to win and she wasn’t even sure if she’d even be able to wield her weapon. “It’s… going.”

It’s certainly not going well! Gale piped up, and Hazel was glad she was the only one who understood her. You’re so busy being caught up in your teenage whirlwind romance, that you don’t even realize your time has run short!

That actually got Hazel’s attention, and she pulled away from Frank to frown at Gale. “What do you mean?” 

“Uh, what do you mean?” Frank asked a bit nervously. 

“Gale said something,” Hazel dismissed, staring Gale right in the eye. “Something about time running short.”

“What does that–”

Frank was cut off by the boat lurching forward like it had hit an iceberg, sending him and Hazel painfully toppling over one another into a heap. Frank managed to get a mouthful of her sneaker and she nearly brained herself with the not-a-sundae dummy arm. Gale leapt off the railing like it was nothing and landed in front of Hazel. Her eyes gleamed, and Hazel didn’t have to speak mustelid to know that she was practically bursting with eagerness. 

No time for questions now! she chittered. It is time to see how you measure up, Hazel Levesque. 

Annabeth Chase could swear better than anyone Hazel had ever known, and that was saying a lot because Hazel had met some rather unsavory characters in the form of her mother’s clients, and any of the nuns she’d gone to school with could tell you just how skilled she was herself. Still, Hazel was almost glad that she’d missed the first half of Annabeth’s furious tirade as she and Frank scrambled to the rest of the group.

“–one more flea-bitten Tartarus reject attacks my fucking boat I’m going to shove my boot so far up its ass the son of a bitch’s grandmother is going to taste rubber!” she snarled, half hanging over the edge of the boat, held up only by Percy’s grip on one of her belt-loops.

“He wants you to know that he doesn’t have fleas,” Percy said, almost conversationally. “I don’t even know if turtles can get fleas.”

“I don’t care!”

“What in the world is going on?” Hazel demanded. Nico popped up at her side and she turned on him. “Well? Did you see anything keeping watch?”

“Turtle,” Nico said unhelpfully. “Very big turtle.”

“A turtle?” Frank echoed. “Can Percy talk to it?”

“Tried that already,” Percy reported, having finally coaxed Annabeth away from the edge. She was still obviously furious and her hands were flying over the Archimedes Sphere, but at least she didn’t look like she was going to vault the edge and fist fight whatever was attacking the boat. “Can confirm that it’s not friendly.”

Hazel frowned and turned to face their foe, wondering how something like a turtle could possibly cause so much of a problem. She personally really liked turtles, even the big Galapagos tortoise she’d seen at a zoo once. She thought they were charming, and she liked the patterns on their little shells and how shiny their eyes were. What she saw turned everything she knew about turtles on its head.

The thing she was looking at was so incomprehensibly large it was hard to wrap her head around the fact that it was even alive, and not just a very inconveniently placed landmass. Giant hills of bone with deep scars like canyons and vast forests of kelp and algae covered its massive shell and aaaaallll the way on the other side of the boat was its gigantic kaiju head, where Jason and Hedge were already giving it everything they had with their javelin and club respectively. The turtle didn’t seem to mind though, and just snapped its jaws, taking about a half dozen oars with it to the sound of Annabeth’s wordless howl of fury.

“Beth, can you get us out of here?” Percy asked. “Fly or something?”

Annabeth whirled around on him eyes wild. “Oh, flying! Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Why don’t you just have that thing spit the oars back up and we can just be on our merry way!”

“Sheesh! Okay, no flying!”

“Can you get us to those straights over there?” Nico suggested, pointing. “I saw them from the crow’s nest.”

Annabeth whipped her head around to see what he was pointing at and narrowed her eyes before she started punching at something on the Sphere. “Yeah, I think I can– Jason! Hedge! Get out of there now!” Jason, ever the proper soldier, retreated immediately, but Hedge stayed behind. Hazel watched Jason wrestle with the portly satyr for a moment, losing his javelin in the process, but soon they were both back on deck. “You guys good?” Annabeth called.

“Fine,” Jason reported, glaring death at Hedge. “Unarmed, but unharmed.”

“Good. Brace yourselves!” Annabeth took up a power stance, a Switch controller in each hand, then thrust them both forward in one motion like she was engaging rocket thrusters. Which, apparently, she was, seeing as in response the ship shot out four jets of white-hot fire directly into the turtle’s face, and the Argo II was sent skipping forward across the water towards the cliffs. “Ha! Take that you stupid fucking reptile!” 

Unfortunately, the fire seemed to bother the turtle about as much as a good old fashioned Hedge Bashing, and was in pursuit, quickly gaining on them, despite their lead. “We need a distraction,” Hazel muttered to herself. “We’ll never make it there otherwise.”

A distraction could work, Gale agreed. Her eyes glittered knowingly. But there’s another option for you, isn’t there? Are you going to save your friends? Are you going to be a hero? How do you want this story to go?

Hazel wanted to scream. She knew Gale wanted her to use the Mist. To make the turtle tiny or turn it into an actual harmless island or something but she couldn’t. She didn’t know how. But she had to do something. She had to think and she needed help.

Right on cue, Hazel felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, and she looked up just in time to see a massive column of mist (lowercase ‘m’) come tearing across the sea towards them, and her heart leapt with joy. Within seconds, her best equine friend was standing on the deck before her, and she threw her arms around his neck. “Arion!”

He knickered and Percy scoffed. “Still hasn’t learned any damn manners.”

Hazel didn’t really think he had any room to critique her horse’s foul language, considering Annabeth’s party trick, but she decided to ignore that. She glanced over at Gale, who was watching the scene with her head cocked to the side curiously. I suppose this would be what you wanted to see most, isn’t it?

Hazel ignored that, too, and just climbed up on the horse’s back. She offered Percy a hand. “Come on, we’ve got to distract that thing so the others can get to cover.”

“You got it!” Percy grinned, taking her hand and jumping up behind her. He mounted Arion backwards, probably to give himself more room to do his Percy Thing, and smacked both hands down on Arion’s hindquarters. “Giddyup!”

Hazel didn’t have to speak Horse to know that the neigh Arion let out was not polite.

Without waiting for another second, Arion leapt over the railing and headed straight for the turtle, his hooves moving so fast they didn’t have time to sink into the water. Hazel’s heart leapt into the back of her throat, but she just twisted her fingers into Arion’s mane and urged him forward. The turtle was big and powerful, there was no denying that, but she was fast, she was agile, and she was smart.

And she had Percy.

Percy let out a whistle loud and sharp enough that Hazel was pretty sure a taxi somewhere in New York City pulled over out of sheer respect, and shouted, “Hey, big fella! I’m gonna need you to take a look over here! Ignore the boat full of snacks and look at me!” 

Very slowly, the turtle turned its massive head towards them, only to be met with a mini tsunami straight to the face, causing it to let out a loud, grating shriek. Another wave swelled and Arion let out a somewhat deranged whinny  before he sprinted up the back to race across the crest, his hooves splashing in the seaspray. He leapt from the top, sailing over the turtle’s head and Percy let out a victorious crow, and slammed what was probably several lakes’ worth of water straight down, forcing the turtle under the surface.

“And that’s for pissing off my girlfriend!”

“Speaking of!” Hazel shouted. She gestured over to where the Argo II had managed to limp into the nearby straight. It was barely big enough for the ship, which meant that the turtle would definitely not be able to reach them. “Time to get back to the crew!”

Percy nodded in understanding, took a deep breath, then thrust both hands forward like he was trying to shove someone over. In response, all of the water around them rushed at the turtle with such speed and force that Arion was stuck running on a watery treadmill for a moment, and the gigantic turtle was sent careening away. Percy let out another victorious whoop, and Hazel couldn’t help but laugh along with him as they raced towards the boat.

As soon as they were on deck, Frank was right there, eyes shining in wonder as he offered Hazel a hand down. She gratefully accepted the offer, feeling like a princess, and she beamed up at him. “Thanks, Frank.”

“That was amazing, Hazel,” Frank gushed. “The way you just– Wow!”

“Hey, I helped, too,” Percy complained. His eyes were shining with mirth though, so Hazel didn’t really think he was all that mad. 

“You were impressive, too, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth soothed, kissing him on the cheek. Now that there wasn’t a turtle eating her boat, she seemed to be in a much better (and way less scary) mood. 

Percy grinned and opened his mouth to say something, but Hazel would never find out what it was because an arrow suddenly planted itself in the mast less than a quarter of an inch past the end of his nose.

“Get down!” Jason ordered, and everyone hit the deck except Percy. He just stood there, eyes wide in shock and face a little pale as he gaped at the arrow shaft like a fish. Jason grit his teeth and dragged him down. “Jackson!”

Several tense seconds passed, but no more arrows were shot. Annabeth was the first to speak, eyes narrowed at the arrow. “I… don’t think they mean us any harm.”

“The hair on the end of my nose begs to differ!”

Annabeth ignored him and slowly got to her feet to investigate the arrow. “No, seriously, look. There’s a note attached to it.” She quickly untied the scroll and cleared her throat. “Stand and deliver. This is a robbery. Send two of your crew to the top of the cliff with all of your valuables. No flying, no horse, no tricks. Just climb.”

Immediately, Hazel felt cold. Not the same cold that she got from the dead like she had in Venice, this was more like the feeling of dread she’d gotten when she walked into class and realized that she’d forgotten to study for a very important test, only this was much, much worse. As if to sell the point, Gale appeared in front of her, nearly nose to nose, eyes glittering. Well, Hazel Lavesque? What will you do?

“What do they mean by climb?” Frank asked nervously. 

“I’m guessing they mean that,” Nico said, pointing to a very narrow, very steep staircase. He winced and looked away. “Something tells me this isn’t the first time this straight has been used for an ambush.”

“We were tricked,” Annabeth agreed bitterly. “According to the letter, whoever this is is friends with the turtle.” As if to confirm the claim, the turtle let out another one of those awful grating cries.

“Let’s cannonball him!” Coach suggested. “Blow him up to kingdom come!”

“No way,” Frank disagreed immediately. He was also on his feet and squinting up at the top of the cliff with one hand held up to shield his eyes from the sun. “I can see him from here, and there’s no way we could get the cannons or catapults to shoot straight up like that.”

“But, I mean, you can totally break the laws of physics and shoot him with your bow, right?” Percy asked, his tone hopeful, but Frank just shook his head. “Damn.”

Hazel took a deep breath and got to her feet as well. “I’ll go.” Gale chittered with delight and scampered up a nearby pole so she could leap onto Hazel’s shoulder. Hazel wished that was more encouraging than it was.

Annabeth didn’t look nearly so impressed. “I don’t make deals with terrorists,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “Who’s to say we can even trust this person?”

“I’m not saying we should trust them, but we don’t really have a choice but to play along,” Hazel pointed out. “Besides, if I go up there, I can just… give them all the gold they can carry and we can leave.”

“Not bargaining with a terrorist, just buying one,” Percy added helpfully.

Annabeth’s face was still puckered in displeasure, but she relented. “Fine. But you need to take someone with you. I’d rather it be two but well–” She waved the note around to prove her point. 

Hazel nodded in agreement. “Okay, I can take Frank then.”

Annabeth shook her head, eyeing the stairs suspiciously. “No, you should take Jason. You guys can’t fly, but this isn’t going to be a fun climb. If you fall, you should have someone who can catch you.”

Jason, who had stiffened at the sound of his name, looked almost sick at the mention of catching her, but he still gave Hazel a serious nod. “I won’t let you fall.”

Hazel swallowed back bile. “Great.”

“I’m going to need a weapon first,” Jason added. He scowled death at Hedge. “Thanks to someone, I lost mine.”

Hazel didn’t think, she just held out her hand and within seconds Jason’s familiar magic gold coin was sitting in her palm. She frowned slightly at the sight, considering she hadn’t felt the normal tug in the back of her mind she got when she used her powers, but she handed it over to Jason. “Here you go.”

Jason’s eyes widened, and he looked her over, clearly impressed. “Thanks.”

“That had to have been almost half a mile,” Annabeth gaped, and everyone else looked just as shocked.

Percy was the only one who wasn’t surprised, he just gave her a proud nod. “Like in Alaska. Nice.” He clapped a hand down on her shoulder. “You’ve got this, Hazel.”

She smiled weakly, and she wished she could believe him. 

Hazel didn’t want to be climbing this mountain with Jason, wind powers or no. She would have much rather had Frank as her backup. She would have also gladly accepted Percy or Nico. To be honest, even Coach Hedge would have been preferable to Jason.

It wasn’t so much that Hazel didn’t trust Jason could catch her. In theory, that is. Jason was strong and capable and always tried to keep his friends safe. He just… scared her, in a way. Other than Nico, Jason had been her very first friend, even before she’d met Frank. He’d been her Centurion and even when others would whisper behind her back, Jason saw her just as she was and treated her with the same kindness and respect that he showed everyone. She’d honestly been thrilled when she’d seen Jason Grace step off the Argo II back in New Rome, but then Piper and Leo had jumped out after him, and Hazel realized immediately that the Jason Grace standing before her was not the boy she’d called Praetor. 

Then Rome happened, Piper and Leo fell, and Jason changed to yet another version of himself. He was no longer the Jason she’d started this quest with, but he wasn’t the Jason from before, either. This Jason was cold and stormy and so very angry all the time. He rarely spoke, even more rarely rested, and Hazel had yet to see him smile. This Jason only cared about getting to Epirus to rescue Piper and Leo, and Hazel wasn’t sure what he’d do if he decided that saving her wasn’t helpful for getting him there. She was a little scared to find out.

That theory was tested about halfway up the cliff. They’d been walking in complete and utter silence, save for Gale’s excited chittering, when Hazel had stepped on a particularly slippery spot and her foot had slid right out from under her. She had a split second to bitterly think about Venice and how her stupid habit of tripping on rocks was going to ruin her mission again when Jason’s hand flew out and landed directly between her shoulder blades, steadying her. She felt her breath hitch in her throat. Jason had caught her so fast. Not a moment of hesitation or even thought. He just steadied her like it was second nature. “Th-Thanks.”

“Be careful,” Jason responded, his tone even and quiet, but nothing like a reprimand. Gale squeaked something back at him, and Hazel could almost hear Jason’s brow furrow. “Why did you bring your weasel?”

“She’s a polecat, not a weasle” Hazel corrected before Gale could throw another taxonomy tantrum. “She’s the one who’s teaching me magic, and apparently this is some kind of test.”

Jason hummed in thought. “Are you going to pass?”

Hazel’s gut instinct told her to lie to Jason just like she’d been lying to everyone except herself. She wanted to say that of course she was going to pass. She was nailing this whole Mist manipulation like it was child’s play, this was going to be a walk in the park. But at the same time, she was tired. She was so tired of forcing that smile and shoving falsehoods from between gritted teeth. She came to a stop and clenched her fists. “No. I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail in a pretty spectacular fashion. Sorry you got dragged into the mess with me.”

“I’d rather be dragged into a mess than know you had to face it by yourself,” Jason said automatically, and the response sounded practiced but no less genuine. “What’s going wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel admitted. Hot, humiliating tears stung in the corners of her eyes, and she reached up with one hand to scrub them away before they could fall. “Gale just keeps telling me all this conflicting information, and she’s mean, and I can’t even figure out what it is I need to fix, much less how to fix it.”

She kind of expected silence from Jason in the face of her little tantrum. Maybe a cleared throat and an awkward topic change, if she was lucky. Instead, Jason hummed sympathetically and brushed the back of his knuckles against her wrist. “I get it.”

Hazel turned around so she could face him and blinked. “You-You do?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t personally have any experience, but back when we were still at Camp, Piper–” He cut himself off with a grimace, and Hazel resisted the urge to grab his hand. He took in a short, sharp breath and began again. “Back at Camp, Piper had to learn how to properly learn how to use her Charmspeak, and the only one who could teach her was her sister, Drew. Learning from Drew probably wasn’t any easier than learning from a we–” Gale growled and Jason corrected himself– “polecat. In fact, she might have been worse. There were a few months there where Piper was convinced she’d never understand anything.”

Hazel stared at him. She thought back to all the times she’d seen Piper use Charmspeak and how it seemed to flow from her lips effortlessly. The idea that she’d ever struggled with it the same way Hazel struggled with the Mist was mind boggling in a way. “How’d she figure it out?”

“Well, Drew basically told her that imposing her will on other people wasn’t going to work. When you completely try to overwrite something like that, you have to unmake their mind and then remake it,” Jason explained. “She said it’s always easier if you can just mold what’s already there to get them to do what you want.”

Hazel’s heart froze in her chest and for possibly the first time ever, Gale was completely silent. “H-How do you do that?”

Jason shrugged casually. “You tell them what they want to hear.”

With those simple words, the world spun around Hazel and her knees buckled.

Hazel was six years old sitting and coloring quietly in a corner while her mom conducted her business. The man across the table from her was young, with soft brown hair and sparkling green eyes. He was a sailor, stateside for the first time in months, but not home, and he wanted to know if the girl he’d left behind had stayed loyal. Her mother just hummed softly and kicked a little trap door to let thick, perfumed smoke slowly fill the room. She asked him to describe the girl he loved so much and let him wax poetic while she looked deep into the big crystal ball she’d picked up that weekend. When he was done, he looked up at her with wide desperate puppy dog eyes and she just smiled.

“I have seen beyond the Mist, my child,” she said in that soothing, hypnotic voice she always used when she was fortune telling. “Your love for this girl is true, and true to your love she will stay. Fear betrayal only if you betray her first with doubt.”

He beamed at her like all of his dreams were coming true at once before he placed a few bills on her table and shook her hand. “Thank you, Queen Marie. I will be loyal and I’ll trust her. I love her so much and she loves me, too.”

Hazel’s mom gave him a warm indulgent smile as she slipped the bills into her pocket. “That is good to hear. my child. Take your vows and hold them close to your heart.”

“Vows…” His eyes suddenly went wide and shiny. “I’m gonna get married?” Hazel’s mom only answered by arching her eyebrow, which was apparently more than enough for him because he leapt to his feet, practically dancing with excitement. “I’m gonna get married!” He shook her hand again, then frowned at the empty table in confusion before pulling out his wallet. “Thank you so, so much. How much do I owe you? Is this enough?”

Hazel’s mom graciously took the money. “My child, your joy is payment in and of itself.”

The sailor beamed at her before turning to leave. From the street, Hazel heard his victorious voice ringing back up to her ears, “Fellas! I’m gonna marry my girl!”

Once things were quiet and Hazel’s mom was just sitting there counting the money she’d made that day, Hazel quietly approached. “Mama?”

Her mom glanced up and smiled at her before returning to her money. “Yes, my jewel?”

“How come you lie to all those people?”

That made her mom pause. She sat the money down and gave Hazel a curious look. “Now what makes you think I’m lying to them?”

Hazel didn’t know how to tell her mom that she could just tell. She didn’t think that her mom would understand that sometimes when she was telling fortunes, Hazel could see little clouds curling past her lips. When she was doing a proper reading with her tarot deck, the clouds were thin and silvery whisps, but when she pulled out things like a giant ball of glass from the flea market, the clouds were a dark gray that billowed out and fell to the floor like smoke. Instead, she just shrugged. “Your voice sounds funny when you fib.”

Her mom looked shocked for a moment then she laughed and held out her arms for Hazel to climb into her lap. “Aren’t you a clever little thing, my jewel? Nothing gets past you, hmm?”

Hazel climbed up so her mom could hold her close. She fiddled with one of the cheap pendants around her mom’s neck. “Mama, I thought lying was bad.”

Her mom hummed softly in thought as she rocked them back and forth. “I don’t like to think of it as lying,” she said finally. “People don’t go to a fortune teller if they want to hear the real truth. So, I tell them the truths that they want to hear.”

“But they’re not true,” Hazel protested. “That’s not how lying works.”

Her mom’s eyes glittered and she smiled conspiratorially. “Maybe they’re not true. Or maybe they’re not true yet. Maybe someone needs to be shown the truth they want, and they can make that truth real, just by believing it’s true. Maybe that’s the real secret.”

When Hazel came to, Jason was holding her up, his eyes wide and wild and obviously terrified. “Hazel! You-You just–”

“Passed out?” she guessed, righting herself with a groan. She shook her head and smoothed down her skirt. “That just happens. Let’s keep moving.”

Jason looked like he wanted to protest, but Hazel had already resumed her climb, so he was forced to follow after her. Around her neck, Gale made a quiet noise. Have a productive nap, did we?

Wouldn’t you like to know? Hazel shot back, and she got the feeling that for the first time ever, Gale actually heard her silent retort. The world around her felt different. Hazy, almost, but brighter and more clear than ever before. She felt like everything was just humming with potential, ready and eager to be whatever she wanted, she just needed to ask correctly. She squared her jaw and kept climbing, refusing to allow herself to be distracted. 

She had a test to take.

By the time they got to the summit, their host was impatiently tapping his toes and scowling at them over the bandana that covered the lower half of his face. “Took the two of you long enough! Now–” he raised a pair of flintlock pistols, one aimed at Hazel and Jason both– “stand and deliver!”

Jason growled at him, the sound low and menacing and coming deep from his throat. “Why should we?”

Sparkly green eyes narrowed dangerously at him and one of his pistols slowly cocked itself. “I think I might be able to find a reason that will get through that thick skull of yours.”

“What he means,” Hazel interrupted, “is that we ought to have introductions first. My name’s Hazel, daughter of  Pluto, and this is Jason, son of Jupiter.”

The bandit considered her carefully before holstering his guns. “Alright then, Hazel, daughter of Pluto. The name’s Sciron, son of Poseidon.” She gave him her most winning smile and his eyes crinkled and sparkled in a way that was almost familiar for just a moment, then he shook his head and leveled a pistol at her. “Nevermind all that though! I told you two to bring your valuables! I don’t see anything even remotely shiny, so I’m guessing you two are offering your life in exchange?”

“No, no, we’ll get you your valuables!” Hazel promised. “But first, how do we know you’ll let us go free afterwards?”

“They always ask that. Why do they always ask that?” Sciron complained, and Hazel got the feeling he was talking to his gun. “Do we not seem trustworthy?”

“Well, you did corner us into an ambush with a giant turtle, then threatened us at gunpoint.”

Sciron paused, like he hadn’t considered that before, then waved his free hand dismissively through the air. “Nevermind that! I swear on the River Styx that as soon as I have what I want, I will send you right back down that mountain, no shooting involved.”

Thunder rolled in the distance, but even with that insurance, Hazel still had her doubts. Jason spoke first though. “We could just kill you instead,” he offered, his voice chillingly even. “It’s not like you can fight us and hold the ship captive at once.”

Hazel had the briefest moment of hope before it was dashed with a BANG! BANG!  

Sciron had both of his guns out again, one pointed straight at Jason’s face and the other pointed down at the Argo II . Jason hadn’t flinched, but he did bare his teeth in a snarl, and he now had a smoking groove cut through his hair. Sciron’s eyes were squinted up and shining in obvious delight. “Better be careful about assuming what people can and can’t do, cousin.”

“Wh-What did you do?” Hazel stammered. 

“Well, I gave your friend here a fetching new haircut,” Sciron explained, gesturing at Jason, “and I gave the messy-haired fellow down on the ship one to match.”

“Percy!”

“Seems like as good a name as any for him,” Sciron shrugged. He twirled his pistols and holstered them again with a flourish, but Hazel knew better than to think him unarmed. She also suspected that his guns had magically reloaded themselves. “That was, of course, just a demonstration. Either one of those shots can be a little closer to center next time, if I want them to be.” 

“Percy’s a son of Poseidon, too, you know,” Hazel ventured. 

“I had assumed as much, seeing what he did to my poor turtle,” Sciron said sourly. “I can’t help but notice that our dear father didn’t gift him a turtle. I think it’s pretty obvious who the favorite is.”

Hazel quietly agreed that it was obvious, but she likely didn’t have the same answer as Sciron. “Well, if you’re in Poseidon’s good graces, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping the gods?”

“Now, now, I didn’t say anything about me being in his current good graces,” he dismissed. “I died and did my father bring me back? No, of course not. Gaea did, and she told me I could terrorize the coastline and rob demigods to my heart’s content, and that’s exactly what I plan to do!” He whipped out his gun one more time and pointed it directly at Jason, who just bared his teeth again. “Now, I’m gonna say this one last time, and I will not repeat myself: Stand and deliver.”

Hazel didn’t blink. She didn’t have to try and summon the precious metals from the Earth; her nerves were so shot that it had taken considerable concentration to not summon them. In an instant, she was up to her knees in precious metals and gems and coins from just about every time period she could think of: Greek drachmas and Roman denarii and Lydian staters mixed together with raw chunks of gold and silver and crystals the size of her fist. 

Sciron was obviously delighted. “Now, that is a neat trick, cousin! Why, you’re a bandit in your own right, robbing the very earth itself like that! You sure you want to stick with this lot? I’m sure the two of us would make a fine team.”

Hazel didn’t have an answer for him, and even if she did, she didn’t want to give him one. “Just-Just take it and let us go. Please. You have what you want.”

Sciron was sorting through the treasure with delight. “Well, now, normally I’d be more than happy to finish up with the two of you, but I’m afraid I’m under orders. If you’ll remember my invitation, I said to bring all your valuables, and I happen to know you’re toting around a very nice statue.”

“You can’t have the statue,” Jason growled. “Non-negotiable.”

Sciron looked up, seemingly startled. “Why I don’t want it, of course. Much too bulky to be carrying around if I want to rob people. I suppose I could mount it to my turtle, but he wouldn’t like it very much. No, my patron is the one who wants it, and, well, I do owe her a bit of a favor, don’t I?”

“Gaea’s lying to you,” Hazel said seriously. “She told you that you can rob the coast forever? How, exactly, do you plan to do that when the world is destroyed?”

Sciron froze. He flicked his gaze over to Hazel. “I beg your pardon?”

“Gaea’s plan involves destroying the gods and everything they’ve built,” she told him. “And that includes everywhere you could even think about spending all your precious gold. Assuming you survive, that is.” 

Hazel could hardly hear the blood rushing in her ears over the sound of her bated breath as Sciron considered her words. He was still in silent contemplation for what felt like an eternity before he looked up at them with a wide smile. “Good news, you two! I’ve decided I don’t have much use for that statue after all. I mean, how would you even get it up the cliff? No, no. Better to just cut my losses and not get caught up on one little thing.”

Hazel’s knees went weak in relief. “S-So, we can go?”

“Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast!” Sciron chided. “Before you go, I demand a show of respect. Wash my feet.”

“Your… feet?”

“Of course! It’s tradition, after all.” Before Hazel could say another word, Sciron yanked off his boots, one right after the other, then sat down on a rock near the cliff edge so he could gleefully kick his feet through the air. Hazel would admit that she always found the sight of bare feet unappealing, but the things attached to Sciron’s ankles were beyond anything she’d seen before. They were pasty white and wrinkly and swollen and each furry toe was grotesquely misshapen and sporting a crusty yellow toenail. Sciron looked very proud of himself. “Ta-da!”

Hazel was about to say something, but then the smell hit her and she had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from being sick. Even Gale made a retching sound from her spot on Hazel’s shoulder before hiding herself in the safety of Hazel’s tee-shirt. 

“Now, normally, I have one person do both feet, but since there’s two of you and we’re family, I’ll go easy on you,” Sciron promised. “One each. One cleans the left and the other cleans the right.”

Jason was practically shaking with fury. “If you think for even a second we’re going to–”

Click.

Hazel froze as Sciron’s pistol cocked itself again, aimed directly at Jason’s head. Sciron’s eyes glittered with delight and malice in equal measure. “Oh, I’m gonna think it for more than just a second. I can promise you that.”

Hazel swallowed down a yelp. “Y-You promise you’ll let us go?”

Sciron turned his attention back to her. “Of course! You wash my feet, and our business is done. I’ll send you right back down the cliff, I swear on the River Styx.”

Thunder rolled again, and Hazel felt time stop around her. He’d made that oath like it was nothing, like it was a vow he could keep without a second thought. It probably was. He’d probably made that exact promise a thousand times over to each and every one of his victims. He kept his promise to each and every one of them, and they’d been blind to his trick until it was too late. He never said that he’d let them go, his victims just heard that because that’s what they wanted to hear. 

Jason let out an agitated huff, but stepped forward to do his part. Hazel whipped out a hand to stop him in his tracks. “Wait! Give us a moment! Please!”

Sciron arched an eyebrow at her. “Give you a moment? For what? Would you like to soak in the aroma?”

Hazel fought the urge to gag. “No, we just need to discuss, uh, who’s getting what foot. It’s a very big decision. I mean, cleaning your right foot? What an honor.”

Sciron’s other eyebrow shot up to meet its twin, but he shrugged. “Very well. Take your minute then, cousins. In fact, take two.”

Hazel scrambled forward and dragged Jason along, tugging him back down the staircase until she was hopefully out of earshot. 

Jason scowled at her, clearly not pleased that they were being delayed. “What? I don’t care who cleans what foot–”

“Sciron’s going to kick us off the cliff,” she interrupted. “That’s how he gets his victims. When they kneel to wash his feet, they get overwhelmed with the smell, then he kicks them over backwards.”

Jason considered that for only a second. “Then we kill him.”

“We can’t, he’s already proven that,” she reminded him. “Anything we try to do to counter him head-on will just end with us dead and him playing carnival games with the Argo II.”

Jason’s scowl deepened. “Well, then, I hope you’ve got an idea.”

Gale’s head popped up out of her shirt again, and she made her excited chittering noise. Hazel took a deep breath. She did have an idea. She knew what she needed to do. She just had to believe she could do it. 

The dead see what they believe they will see. So do the living.

Maybe someone needs to be told the truth they want to hear, and they can make it real, just by believing it.

“I do have a plan. But I need you to believe in me.”

When they got back up to the summit, it was clear that Sciron was tired of playing games. 

“You two don’t have any manners,” he complained. “I was kind enough to give you two whole minutes, and you took advantage of my generosity. Shame on you.”

“Our apologies,” Jason gritted out, glaring death at the bandit. “It was just so hard to decide who got to wash which foot.”

Jason was by no means a good actor, but it didn’t matter because his script was exactly what Sciron wanted to hear, and he beamed. “Fantastic! You first, then?”

Jason nodded, and with a flourish, Sciron pulled out one of his pistols and spun it around his finger. The air around it seemed to shimmer, and its form flickered. For one moment, the weapon held the form of endless potential. It was a gun, a handheld crossbow, a coil of weathered rope, a scroll, a remote control, and, irritatingly, a banana split sundae. It was anything and everything in that one single instant while Hazel waited to see what it could be. 

When it settled, it was simply a cloth and a spray bottle that had Fabuloso written on it in bubbly blue letters with a rainbow. Jason took the bottle looking baffled. “You want me to wash your feet with kitchen cleaner?” 

“It’s a multi-purpose cleaner,” Sciron corrected. “Trust me, it takes a lot more than water to cut through this crud, so you’ll need it. It also promises long-lasting freshness and it smells like peaches.”

“How… creative,” Jason said sourly. He stepped forward and knelt  before Sciron. His back was to the ocean and while his stance was steady, he wobbled, likely a little dizzy from the smell. He didn’t flinch, but Hazel could see the way his eyes watered, and when he tried breathing through his mouth, he visibly gagged. Still he raised the bottle and began to clean. The air was filled with a scent that was highly chemical and only vaguely peach, but Sciron made no sudden moves, and Hazel found herself praying that she’d been wrong about this whole thing.

When the foot was almost clean, Sciron suddenly spoke, his smug grin audible in his voice. “Humility looks good on you, cousin. But you know what? I bet terror looks even better on you both.”

Then, with one smooth movement, he reared back and planted both feet on Jason’s shoulders and kicked him off the cliff.

Jason’s eyes went wide in shock as he arced backwards through the air, too stunned to even think about flying. Hazel screamed in horror, and she could hear the answering cries from the remaining crew of the Argo II down below, desperately pleading for Jason to save himself. He never got the chance, though, because the giant turtle surged forward and SNAP! swallowed him whole.

Sciron turned to look at Hazel, looking smug and victorious. “Oops.”

“Wh-What did you do?” she sobbed. “You promised you’d let us go! You swore on the Styx!”

“Did I? I don’t remember anything like that,” Sciron questioned. “If you’ll recall, I said I’d send you two down the mountain as soon as you washed my feet. Jason was most certainly sent right down that mountain.”

“You’re a monster,” Hazel accused through her tears. 

If anything, Sciron just looked more delighted and lifted his other foot to wiggle his toes at her. “I may be a monster, but I intend to be a monster with clean feet. Now hop to.”

“Y-You can’t expect me to do that!” she stammered. “I just watched you kill Jason.”

He lifted his pistol at her, looking very smug indeed. “Well, if you don’t do it, I can always go back to plan A and shoot you. If you’re a good girl and do as you’re told, I might just let you go. You get to decide your fate.”

Hazel forced her lip to wobble pathetically. “You promise not to kick me?”

His smile was wicked. “One way to find out.”

She did as she was told and knelt at his feet. She told herself that she couldn’t smell anything, that she was focusing too hard to be distracted by something like stinky feet, and it actually worked. Just like it’s supposed to, she reminded herself. She made sure to keep making sad little sniffling noises as she worked, slowly shifting her weight every now and then. 

She was apparently taking too long because after a bit of shuffling, Sciron scowled down at her. “Well, you sure are taking your time about this, aren’t you?”

She looked up at him with sad, wet eyes. “I-I’m sorry!” she yelped “I just- I was hoping that if I did a really good job, you’d let me go. I’ll hurry up.”

She shifted one last time and got to work, quicker now, and she noted that he seemed satisfied with her answer. Of course he was. As far as he was concerned, she was nothing but a pitiful little girl, kneeling at a cliff’s edge, ready to be kicked over, just like her friend. He was seeing exactly what he wanted to see.

Within minutes, Hazel had finished her grotesque task, and she looked up at her tormentor, hope shining from her every feature. “Th-There. I’m done. Will you please let me go?”

Sciron lifted his foot and let out a low, impressed whistle. “Well, I’ll be. You really did want your freedom, huh?” Still though, he planted his now clean foot on her shoulder and gave her a smirk. “Unfortunately, wanting simply isn’t enough.”

He shoved, and Hazel casually let herself fall onto her butt a few feet away from him. 

Sciron blinked at her, clearly baffled, and now it was her turn to grin. The world around them spun and suddenly Hazel was the one inland, and Sciron was sitting with his back to the ocean. She clucked her tongue in mock sympathy. “You really should learn to keep your promises. Jason kinda holds a grudge.”

Sciron whipped his head around to see Jason hovering behind him, his trusty sword in hand and teeth bared menacingly. Sciron’s eyes widened in horror. “Wait! What did you–”

He never got a chance to finish as Jason’s sword plunged deep into his chest, and he crumbled to dirt. Below them, the turtle let out one final, cut-off shriek.

With the threat gone, Jason tossed his sword in the air and caught it again in its coin form. He walked over to where Hazel was sitting and offered her a hand. “You did it,” he said simply, stating it like it was a remarkably unsurprising fact, like the sun set in the west.

Hazel took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “I did,” she replied in the same matter-of-fact tone. She saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

You did well, Gale squeaked. She was sitting up on her hind legs a few feet away, radiating pride. As I knew you would.

Hazel wanted to complain and say that Gale was no help at all in her discovery, but that wasn’t fair or true. Instead, she offered her hand for her mentor to scurry up her arm to perch on her shoulder. “Thank you, Gale.”

Then the world spun again, and her knees buckled. Jason was frozen in place, Gale was still and silent, and everything was gray. Her heart hammered in her chest. She must have done something wrong. She somehow overdid it with the Mist illusion, or she’d–

“Fear not, you have done no wrong.”

She blinked in shock. She knew that voice. It was deep and dark and quiet as darkness itself. She’d only heard it once, but it had been playing on loop in her head for better than a week now. She looked up from the gravel she was kneeling in. “Dad?”

Pluto was standing before her, dressed in robes as dark as death and lined with the crimson of blood. He looked at her curiously for a moment, then a small smile played across his lips. He looked oddly satisfied, like a project he’d been working on had finally come together. “Rise, my daughter. You have grown strong.”

Suddenly, Hazel felt angry. Her father had ignored her, ignored her mother, left them alone to deal with Hazel’s stupid curse she got from him, and now that she was finally doing something, doing something amazing, all by herself, he wanted to show up and play pretend like he’d done anything to be proud of? She forced herself upright and spat her next words at his feet. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you major gods supposed to be incapacitated? That’s why we’ve been stuck cleaning up your mess.”

“You invoked me,” he said simply, ignoring her pointed jab. “You called upon me so strongly that it unified my two sides and allowed me to appear before you, if only temporarily.”

Hazel wanted to snap and say that she’d done no such thing, but she knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t really meant to bring Pluto to stand before her, but she had reached out to him. She’d embraced his words to her, grappled with his powers, and lived up to her title as the Risen Child of Pluto. She clenched her fists and looked away from him.

Pluto seemed to understand, because he simply sighed and moved on. “You have done well today, but when you come to my house, there will be a foe waiting for you, and she will not be so easily tricked as a fool-hardy bandit.”

“The woman Hecate warned me about?”

He nodded. “Pacifaë. She intends to her restore domain, which will endanger all demigods. If you do not stop her at the House of Hades–”

Suddenly, his form flickered, and for an instant his robes turned into a sharp pinstriped suit and a golden laurel wreathed his head. Around him, the earth erupted, just like it did when Hazel summoned gems, but instead skeletal hands grasped desperately at the freedom offered by the sky.

Pluto scowled, and his form solidified back to his robes and the hands crumbled to dust. He looked at Hazel, and she could see the pain in his eyes. “Our time is short. I am here to warn you, Hazel Lavesque. You will go to the House of Hades, and at the lowest level you will find the Doors of Death. Guarding it will be Pacifaë, and you will need to best her. You have unlocked the secret of the Mist, but it will not be easy. Once you are in the maze, you will be in her domain, and molding her will will be no easy feat.”

Hazel’s brow furrowed. “The maze? What–”

“There is no time,” Pluto interrupted. “We will meet again, my daughter. Until then, know I am proud of you. You are strong, you are capable, and you are every inch the hero everyone sees you as. I am sorry I was unable to play a bigger role in helping you become that hero.”

Hazel felt tears sting in her eyes. Pluto lifted his hand, and she knew he was about to vanish. “Wait!”

He paused, and looked at her curiously again. “Yes?”

“Why are you letting me go?” she asked. “When I met Thanatos, he said that I wasn’t on his list of escaped souls like I’m supposed to be. He said that maybe that was why you weren’t acknowledging me, and that if you did, you’d have to take me back. Why aren’t you taking me to the Underworld?”

“Is that the future you want to see?”

She reared back. “I– Well, no.”

He smiled at her then, his eyes glittering like gemstones. His form began to fade, like an invisible cloud of fog was slowly engulfing him. “Perhaps that is also not what I want to see, Hazel. Perhaps I was never here at all.”

Chapter Text

Piper couldn’t say that she was glad when the arai attacked because, quite frankly, monsters attacking wasn’t a good thing in her book. She was pretty sure that there wasn’t anyone who would be glad to have monsters attack. Well, actually, Percy would probably be relieved to have things move into the fighting territory. Jason, too, for that matter. And maybe even Annabeth, depending on the situation? Coach Hedge for sure and– Okay, so maybe there were plenty of people who would enjoy being attacked, but Piper wasn’t one of them. 

Unfortunately, demon bird grandmas didn’t really stop to interview Piper on her preferences,  they just did what they wanted. Piper leapt out of the way of one, but instead of slashing at her or flying away, Meemaw Feathers just kind of hovered in place. Without a second thought, Piper reared back and swung her hammer as hard as she could. 

“Friend Piper!” Bob called frantically. “Do not–”

He was too late. The arai gave Piper a wide, toothless grin right as the head of a hammer buried itself between her eyebrows, and she instantly shattered to ash. 

There was a beat of silence before Piper fell to her knees with an agonized scream, desperately clawing at her skin, trying to get rid of the invisible acid that was apparently covering her. Leo dropped to his knees in front of her, face pale and terrified. “Pipes? Piper, what’s going on?” When she couldn’t answer, his fury turned on tha arai. “What the hell did you do to her⁈”

“Do you feel it, Piper McLean? Do you feel how it burns?” the arai crooned in their sinister, echoing voice. At the last word, Leo ripped his hands away from Piper, but the arai continued their taunts. “You cared not for agony and suffering when you left Medea to die, did you? You see now the pain you cause.”

“That’s what this is about?” Piper snarled, gritting her teeth through the pain as she forced herself to her feet. “She wanted to kill us! She tried to make Jason and Leo kill each other! That’s not fair!”

“We are not justice,” the arai said simply. “We are vengeance.”

Then, one of them dove from the trees at Leo, wrapping him up in a tight backwards hug. He let out a startled yelp before bursting into flames, incinerating his elderly backpack, before the fire suddenly spluttered out. He wrapped himself up in a hug, trembling from head to foot, teeth chattering behind blue lips. When he spoke, mist curled from his lips. “C-C-Christ on a b-b-b- bike! Who turned up the fffffffffucking AC?”

“The goddess you scorned sends her regards,” the arai cackled. “She wanted you as a sculpture in her palace, and you rejected her. Now you will feel the cold of her anger.”

“We can’t kill them,” Piper realized in horror. She reached out and grabbed Leo’s hand, and when she did, his fingers twitched like he wanted to squeeze back, but they were numb. “That’s how they’re cursing us.”

“W-Well, we can’t not kill them,” Leo pointed out, gesturing at the gleaming bronze talons surrounding them. “Shhhhharp!”

As if to prove his point, three evil grandmas dive bombed them. Piper dove out of the way, dragging Leo along with her, seeing as he was apparently too stiff from cold to move. “What do we do?”

“You die,” the knitting circle from hell answered. “You will either succumb to the misery you inflicted, or you will fall to our claws. Either way, your lives will be taken to honor Mother Night!”

“Th-Thanks for the clarity,” Leo muttered bitterly. 

There was another wave of attacks, but this time Bob stepped forward over them, his broom-spear swinging in a perfect arc and disintegrating six different arai in one swing. Piper gasped in horror, her mind racing as she thought of all the different curses a Titan  lord had probably accrued over the years. “Bob! Oh my god, are you okay?”

Bob braced himself for a moment before he turned to Piper with a curious frown. “I am okay. No curses for Bob.”

That seemed almost impossible, but the arai answered her question before she could ask it. “Oh, you are cursed, Lord Iapetus.” Bob stiffened at the sound of his name, and Piper could practically see his life flashing before his eyes. “But your curse comes not from us, but from the ones you so foolishly call friends.”

“That’s not true!” Piper snapped back defensively. “Percy and Nico didn’t curse him, they helped him!”

“Did they?” the arai countered. “Or did they steal him from the only life and family he knew to force him into servitude of their own design?”

Piper faltered. “I–

“And what of the curse you placed on him, Piper McLean?” they continued. “The curse of continued ignorance. You spin your words and you force him to deny his very nature so that you can benefit.”

“Friend Piper?” Piper whipped her head around to look at Bob, who was watching her closely. His face was totally blank, though, and Piper felt her heart sink. “Is this true?”

“Of course not!” she said immediately, and without thinking, her voice honeyed itself with sweet, sticky Charmspeak.

“Piper, no!” Leo hissed at her side, but it was too late. She was in too deep to turn back now.

“They’re your friends, Bob,” she insisted, smiling at him. “Percy and Nico are your friends, remember? They’re the ones who helped you out after you fell in the Lethe. Nico made sure you were safe and taken care of in Hades’s Palace.”

“That is… True,” Bob said slowly.

“And Leo and I are your friends, too! Friends don’t curse each other, friends help each other. So, please, help us, Bob. We need you,” she finished. 

For one moment, Piper thought she’d done it, that she’d gotten Bob back on their side, but then one of the arai landed on Bob’s shoulder, wearing that awful toothless grin. “The girl lies,” they all whispered. “Even now, when all you seek is truth, she weaves her spells of charm and deceit.”

Bob’s eyes hardened. He asked his question again. “Is this true?”

This time, Piper faltered. “Bob, I–”

The arai on Bob’s shoulder leaned in close like she was going to whisper a secret, but their singular voice still rang out in a deadly chorus from all around. “Let the demigods fall, Lord Iapetus. You need not lift your spear to deal the blow, simply let them succumb to the misery they have caused others like yourself.”

The Titan just stared at Piper, and she felt tears sting in her eyes, completely unrelated to the pain that still wracked her body. “Bob, please–”

“Goodbye, Piper McLean,” Iapetus interrupted coldly, lowering his spear and taking a step back. With that implicit permission, there was a victorious screech from the surrounding arai and they all attacked at once. 

Running for your life was hard. Running for your life while dragging your best friend along behind you, keeping him upright when he stumbled every few feet thanks to the mental frostbite he’d been cursed with was much harder. Piper furiously swung at the arai, disintegrating them and laying curse after curse on herself. Some of them were pretty straight forward – a slash from Katoptris in the past equaled an invisible slash in the present – but some of them were a bit stranger. At one point after killing a grandma, Piper’s hair puffed out into an almost comical cloud of frizzy knots, and she could hear Drew’s outraged howl of I hope the worst moment of your life is on a bad hair day! when she’d discovered that Piper and Avery had zip tied all of her designer sneakers together mere hours before her “strategy meeting” with Nyssa. 

They kept up their desperate, stumbling sprint, Piper half blind from the tears clouding her vision until they cleared the forest and Leo yanked her to a stop. “Cl-Cliff!”

Piper blinked hard a few times until she could see clearly, and, yeah, that was a cliff. Not quite as big as the one they’d scaled following the empousai , but definitely big enough to make sure they’d wind up as demigod pancakes at the bottom. It also wasn’t a far enough drop for Leo, brilliant as he was, to pull off another miraculous mid-air creation. No, going down was no option, so they’d have to run, either right or left. 

Piper grabbed Leo’s hand again to tug him towards the left (left was lucky, she always picked left) but one of the arai swooped down in front of them, flapping her massive condor wings at them to keep her in place. Running is futile, she and the rest of the flock said in unison. You can never truly outrun your past, it will always catch you.

“Y-You’ve got the wrrrong guy,” Leo scoffed. “I c-can outrun anything.” Just to prove his point, Leo hauled back and decked the arai before them. She shattered to nothing and for a split second, nothing happened. Then, Leo’s eyes got cloudy and distant as he started trembling from head to foot. He whipped his head back and forth, looking terrified and so much younger than Piper had ever seen him as he observed horrors only visible to him. “¿M-Mamá?” He choked and coughed so hard he spat up bile. Still, he pushed himself upright and started stumbling away. “ ¿Dónde estás, mamá?”

“Leo!” Piper shouted after him. “Where are you going?”

A curse from a grieving sister, the arai explained. A wish to see her sister’s killer suffer the fear and isolation she must have felt in her last moments.

Piper’s eyes widened in horror and she raced forward, grabbing Leo by the arms. “Listen to me! What you’re seeing isn’t real! You’re here! With me!”

“No!” Leo shouted at her writhing in her grasp. “No, you’re lying! You’re a liar! ¡Mamá! ¡Mamá!”

He ripped himself from her hold, and she just watched him go in shock, feeling an undeniable well of hurt. Just to rub salt in the wound, the arai spoke, and this time they perfectly mimicked the voice of April, a girl Piper had gone to school with. You’re a liar, and one day people are gonna stop listening to you.

Piper growled and raced after Leo again, yanking him away from the cliff edge he was about to fall over, and wrapping him up in a hug. He thrashed and screamed, but she just held on tight. “I’m here, Leo. I’ll always be here. Me and you,” she swore, each word sharp and heavy with meaning. “So long as I’m breathing, I’ll always find you, and I’ll always be here. I swear on the River Styx.”

Around them, thunder boomed so loud Piper thought her teeth were going to vibrate out of her skull, and she knew that her words were set in stone. She didn’t know what the implications of a Styx oath sworn in Tartarus were, she didn’t know what that would mean for them in the future, or if it would come back to bite her in the ass. She didn’t care. She knew her words were true, she didn’t need any sort of mystical oath to hold her accountable. 

Right now though, Leo didn’t need her to find him. He needed her to keep him safe. The arai were circling closer and closer, and she knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight them off himself while he was trapped in the torment of his aunt’s making. She bared her teeth at the monsters surrounding them and gripped her hammer so tight her fingers ached. It didn’t matter how many curses she accrued, she’d kill every last one of them before she let a single one get their talons on Leo.

With a furious shout, she attacked them all. 

The arai seemed to almost welcome her with open arms. Each and every one of them was vanquished with a single blow, but that didn’t really matter because for every one she killed, six more seemed to take its place. She was reminded of the Hydra, and for a split second she deliriously wondered if setting them or herself on fire would help.

Self immolation would probably be less painful than the dozens and dozens of curses that had already settled on her. She couldn’t help but wonder where they all came from. Honestly, she hadn’t even killed that many monsters, considering she’d only been playing Real Life Mythomagic for six months. Something told her that at least some of the curses weren’t specifically directed at her, just demigods as a whole, which she didn’t think was very fair at all. Then again, the arai didn’t really care about fairness, they just wanted retribution. Somewhere out there, some monster or another had died knowing that their last breath was being used to make some random demigod miserable.

Now she just needed to figure out why they would have chosen to give her an ingrown toenail of all things.

The worst part, though, was the feelings. For every curse, Piper got to get a double dose of misery because in addition to the physical pain of their final moments, Piper got to feel the fear and bitterness and anger that accompanied it. Normally, emotions like that strengthened her. She’d called upon her righteous fury to protect the ones she loved on more than one occasion. She knew exactly how to wield her own emotions like a second blade, calling upon them as easily as Jason summoned the winds or Percy controlled the sea. But this was different. These feelings weren’t hers, she didn’t know how to reach out and mold them into something fierce, they just weighed heavy and suffocating on her shoulders. She wanted to weep, she wanted to scream, she wanted to cower in terror. 

She wanted to die, but she also wanted so very desperately to live. 

The final blow came when one of the arai tackled her to the ground, talons raised to slice her to ribbons. Piper snarled right back and pulled her foot back and kicked straight through her attacker’s chest. There was a startled shriek and then a soft poof as she disintegrated, just like every other one, and Piper was about to shove herself back to her feet when she felt it. It was a distantly familiar feeling, like she was re-experiencing an almost forgotten memory. It was a cold dread, one that started in her fingers and toes, and slowly crept inwards. It left her almost numb, but in the most agonizing way imaginable, like she could feel every last one of her cells freeze and stiffen and die. 

She let out a sharp, desperate cry as she collapsed back onto the ground. She could feel herself trying to breathe, each desperate gasp shallower and faster than the one before it, but it was getting harder and harder. This was it. She was going to die, lying here paralyzed on the verge of tears while a bunch of demon grandmothers watched her like she was the most entertaining thing since the Superbowl. 

She has made her choice, they said, clearly delighted. The curse of Midas. Not what we would have chosen for you, but a curse returned is always a satisfying end.  

Piper screwed her eyes shut, suddenly understanding why the feeling was familiar. She’d met Midas on her very first quest with Leo and Jason. He’d turned her and Leo both into golden statues, but not before Piper could lay a curse on him. I hope whatever is waiting for you is a thousand times worse than anything you’ve ever done to someone else, she’d hissed. He hadn’t been very impressed with the creativity of her curse, and apparently he’d taken it upon himself to show her how it was done. Back then, when he transformed her, the process had been instantaneous, but now she got to really, really feel it. 

She laid there feeling sorry for herself for a moment before she heard Leo in the background, still searching the long-burned down warehouse for his long-dead mother, and she felt another wave of guilt wash over her. Leo had tried to save her from Midas, too, had shoved her out of the way to take the hit himself. He’d always done that, shielded her from everything he could, and held her hand through everything else. And now he was here because of her, wandering the deepest, most awful pit of the universe because he hadn’t wanted her to suffer along. She’d done this to him, all because he’d been foolish enough to call her friend. 

Then she thought about Bob, how he was so kind, so gentle. He’d leapt from safety in Hades’s Palace to help her and Leo, just because Nico had said they were Percy’s friends. Then she’d tricked him into thinking she was his friend, too. He’d done so, so much for everyone, and she couldn’t even be bothered to dignify him with the truth. Maybe the arai were right, maybe they didn’t have to curse him, because he’d been cursed enough already. 

Maybe Piper was the curse. 

All at once, everything crashed down on Piper and tears started rolling down her cheeks. The curse had completely paralyzed her arms, so she couldn’t wipe her tears away, not even if she wanted to. She didn’t want to, though. She wanted her grief and sorrow and remorse to exist. It wasn’t something to be cleaned up and scrubbed away, it was something to be felt and recognized, messy as it was. “I’m sorry,” she croaked.

She apologizes? the arai said, their tone mocking. Does she think we will listen? Does she think this will save her? Silly girl, it is far too late for that.

Piper ignored them, they weren’t the ones she was apologizing to. She was apologizing to Leo for dragging him into this, apologizing to Jason for being yet another person who abandoned him. She was apologizing to every person she’d ever taken advantage of with her Charmspeak, apologizing to Percy, even, for all her resentment and anger. She was apologizing to everyone she’d ever done wrong, every innocent she’d ever hurt.

She was apologizing to Bob.

“Please. Take care of Leo.”

She didn’t expect Bob to hear her, and even if he did, she didn’t expect him to care. April was right, Piper was a liar, and it was time people stopped believing her. But she still had to say it. If there was even the slightest shred of a chance that Bob could ever know the depths of her remorse, or for Leo to make it out alive, she had to take it. She had to clear her conscience, just that one little bit. Her soul was going to be stuck wandering Tartarus forever, but at least it would be this little bit lighter.

Then, there was a flash of blinding silver light, and Bob appeared again like the avenging angel Piper was beginning to suspect he actually was. She watched in awestruck wonder as Bob tore through the arai, shattering them to ash so fast they didn’t have time to flee. He was everything Piper could have ever thought to pray for, and she wondered if this was nothing more than a desperate hallucination, a sad attempt from her brain to make her feel better in her last moments. 

But then the last arai was gone, having been defeated or retreated, and Bob was left standing above Piper. He looked down at her, his expression guarded but no less concerned. Piper wanted to thank him. She wanted to sob out a string of apologies, but she couldn’t. She could hardly get any air in her lungs, and when she did, all she could manage was a pitifully wheezed, “Leo. Please.”

Bob understood her in an instant, and in just a few long strides, he was at Leo’s side, scooping him up before he could helplessly wander off the side of the cliff. Leo writhed in Bob’s arms, clearly terrified and hyperventilating, and as soon as Bob put him down he tried to bolt, but Bob was quicker. He looked at Leo thrashing in his hand and frowned before placing one gigantic finger on his forehead. “Owie.”

There was a brilliant flash of light, and Leo blinked, his face clear again. Then his eyes fell on Piper, and she watched his heart break in real time. He fell to his knees at her side and wrestled her stiff body into some semblance of a desperate hug. “Piper? Piper, oh my god. What’s wrong with her?”

“She was cursed,” Bob said simply. 

“Can you do something? Please?” Leo begged. “Anything. Do the-the whole flashing light, ‘No owies’ thing.”

Bob hesitated for only a moment, but he reached out and brushed his finger across her forehead. There was a flash of light, and Piper could breathe just a little bit easier, but she could tell she was still on death’s door. Bob shook his head. “Too many curses. Bob cannot fix this owie.”

Leo let out a ragged sob and clutched Piper even tighter, so tight it would have hurt if Piper were more than a slowly self-gilding lawn decoration. “Is there anything we can do, Bob?”

“I was Iapetus once,” Bob said softly. “Back before I was Bob. Did you know that?”

“I did,” Leo admitted. “I never knew this Iapetus guy, but I do know Bob. He’s a really cool dude, and he’s my friend. He’s Piper’s friend, too. She trusts him and wants him to be happy, even if she doesn’t always know how to help him do that.”

Piper felt shame roil in her gut alongside the pain. She didn’t deserve for Leo to talk about her like that, especially not to Bob of all people. Still, Bob looked down at her curiously. “Bob was Piper’s friend?”

“Yeah,” Leo said firmly. “He still can be, but only if you help us. She’s dying, Bob. If we don’t do something, she’s not going to be anyone’s friend.”

Bob chewed his lower lip. “The Pit is bad for demigods. It heals and protects monsters, but mortals will suffer and die. Tartarus does not like your kind.”

“Well, fuck him, too, we hate him right back,” Leo snapped. Piper could feel his hands getting hotter, the same way they always did when he started getting worked up. “Look, Bob, help us or don’t, but I’m gonna do whatever I have to do to save my best friend. I will drag her ass back to the Phlegethon and make her gargle the whole thing if that’s what it takes. Are you coming or not?”

Silence fell between them until it was broken by the sound of a distant, furious shout. “I CAN SMELL HER! THE ONE WHO DENIED ME IS HERE! PIPER MCLEAN, I AM COMING FOR YOU!”

Bob frowned out at the distance. “That is Enceladus. He has not forgiven you for your defiance on Mount Diablo. He is very close now.”

“That sounds like as good an excuse to book it as any.” Leo got to his feet, hauling Piper up with a grunt. He couldn’t sling her petrified arm over his shoulder, so he was stuck dragging her along in an awkward sideways hug. Still, he held his chin up with determination as he looked at Bob. “Listen. I’m going. I don’t know where or what I’m going to do when I get there, but I am going to save her. Are you coming or not?”

Bob stayed silent for another moment until Small Bob popped out of his collar and rubbed up under his chin. He scratched the kitten. “A good monster…” he said softly. His eyes fell on Leo and his eyes sharpened with determination. “And a good Titan. Come with me, Friend Leo.”

“Y-You’re going to help us?”

Bob nodded. “You are friends, and I made a promise. Bob does not break promises, nor does Iapetus.” He scooped them up and placed them on his shoulder before he started walking. Leo still had Piper clutched to his side in a hug, which she was grateful for, as she wasn’t exactly in any condition to balance herself. “We must go now. You will not outrun them on your own.”

“Where are we going?”

“We are going to see someone who will help,” Bob said simply. “He is a Giant. A good Giant.”

Leo startled so hard that Piper was a little afraid he would drop her. “Uh, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, man, but Giants are bad. Like bad-bad. There aren’t any good Giants.”

Bob hummed contemplatively. “For Friend Piper’s sake, you had best pray you are wrong.”

And, well, Piper figured there wasn’t much Leo could say to that. 

Chapter Text

Nico's day started with watching someone fall out of the sky. That sounded a lot worse than it actually was because the person falling was Jason and he fell out of the sky on a regular basis. Only this time, he didn’t stop falling. 

Nico had been keeping watch in the crow's nest (A.K.A. being as high up and far away from everyone as possible) when Jason had taken to the skies to scout (A.K.A. getting somehow higher and farther away than Nico had managed). Things had been fine for a while, and Nico had kept half an eye on him when all of a sudden, Jason went limp as a ragdoll and started tumbling through the air. Part of Nico wanted to just wait it out, assuming Jason would be fine, but one second turned to two, then three, and the dread in Nico's gut solidified into ice. 

“Percy!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Jason's falling!” 

Percy whipped his head up from where he'd been absentmindedly steering and he saw Jason's freefall. The ship suddenly rocked violently from side to side as a gigantic column of water shot up from the sea and enveloped Jason. Within a moment, Jason was back on deck, shaking his hair dry like a dog and coughing up a bit of water while Percy rubbed his back. “What happened up there, man? You good?” 

Jason just gave a rough snort and shrugged off Percy's hand. “Fell asleep. I'm fine. Where's Annabeth?” 

Percy looked like he was going to argue, so Nico cut in. “Engine room.” 

Jason gave him a stiff nod before turning on his heel and trotting off. “Get Frank and Hazel in the mess hall for a meeting in ten minutes,” he called over his shoulder. 

Then he was gone. 

Percy glanced sideways at Nico. “Well, that was normal.” 

Nico considered that for only a moment before shrugging noncommittally. “None of my business,” he said, stepping into a nearby shadow and melting into the darkness. Without much thought, he allowed himself to manifest in the mess hall, shrouded in shadow, and ready to wait. 

It wasn't too long before Jason appeared, followed by Annabeth, and after that came Percy with Hazel and Frank eagerly bobbing behind him like a pair of ducklings. Unlike everyone else, Hazel actually noticed Nico standing there, and she gave him a tiny little wave and a smile, which he returned with a solemn nod. Once everyone except Nico was seated, Jason cleared his throat and spoke. “Piper and Leo are alive.” 

That got everyone's attention and the air went sharp. 

“How do you know?” Annabeth asked, eyes wide and eager as she leaned in. “I'm not doubting you, but how do you know?” 

“I'm guessing you had a dream during your little sky nap,” Percy piped in. 

Jason nodded. “I don't know how, but they managed to get a message to Camp Half-Blood. They set up a meeting with Reyna and Octavian, and Rachel took Drew.” 

“Drew?” Annabeth interrupted with a choked cough. “They sent Drew on a diplomacy mission?” 

“I think Drew sent Drew, actually,” Jason corrected wryly. “Doesn't matter. What matters is that Reyna is flying to Greece to meet us.” 

“She's doing what?” Frank squawked. “That's forbidden. She'll lose her praetorship!”

“Assuming she lives,” Percy pointed out darkly. “I don't know if you guys remember the last few weeks, but it wasn't exactly smooth sailing, and we have basically every conceivable advantage.” 

“I believe she can make it,” Hazel said firmly. “Believing's half the battle, right, Jason?” 

Jason nodded again. “It won't be easy, but I'd never bet against Reyna.”

Nico couldn't help but agree. There weren't a lot of people he thought could make the trip alone, but Reyna was top of that list. Still, though. “And how, exactly, do you expect her to know where to find us?” he asked, startling Frank so bad he squeaked and turned into a mouse, causing Hazel to lunge forward and catch him. Nico cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry?” 

“Don't worry, he's fine,” Hazel promised. “As for Reyna, couldn't we just Iris Message her?” 

“If Reyna's already on the move, I doubt we could reach her. Not with how sketchy IMs have been recently,” Annabeth dismissed. Then she raised an eyebrow at Jason. “Besides, Jason has a plan. “

“She's expecting me to go somewhere,” Jason confirmed. “We used to talk about going to a town in Croatia called Split. I’m going to leave a message for her there.” 

“How long until we get there?” Frank asked, finally out of mouse form. 

To answer his question, Festus let out a mighty creak, which Buford translated in Hedge's voice. “Thirty-one minutes to destination, cupcake!” 

“So, what's in Split?” Percy asked. “I doubt we’re lucky enough for it to just be ice cream and bananas.”

“Croatia used to be an ancient Roman province,” Jason explained. “More importantly, Split is what remains of the home of one of the most important Roman leaders in history, Diocletian. 

“And he's important because…?” 

“He was the last great pagan emperor, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth scoffed, lightly cuffing him on the back of the head. “Granted, that also came with the prosecution of Christians, but hey, nobody's perfect.” 

“I don't think that's something you can excuse with a Hannah Montana song.” 

Jason puckered his brow like he was going to ask Percy for clarification, then wisely decided to just ignore him. “He was also a son of Jupiter and the last demigod emperor of Rome, and the first to ever retire peacefully. Traveling to the ancient lands was forbidden, but Reyna and I always said that if we did make it, we'd go to Diocletian's Palace. 

Nico nodded in understanding before he suddenly narrowed his eyes. “That's not the only reason you want to go there, is it? You want to speak to the ghost of Diocletian.” 

“I do,” Jason confirmed. “I want to ask him where he's buried. Legend says he was laid to rest with his scepter. 

“Legend also says that scepter can raise dead Roman legions,” Nico finished. “Bold move, Grace. You sure it’s a good idea?” 

“Right now there's an army of monsters between us and the Doors,” Jason said, his tone deathly serious. “I intend to make sure we get down there, whatever it takes.”

Annabeth didn't look convinced. I won't say I don’t like the idea of an undead Roman army backing us up, but you can't just go down there alone.” 

“You should probably count me out,” Percy said begrudgingly. “Zeus doesn't like me much and I'm not super popular with most of his kids. I doubt Jupiter's progeny would fare any better.” 

Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, didn't dispute his claim. 

“If you want to commune with the dead, you're going to need my help,” Nico said. “He may appear to you, but too many others will probably scare him off. It's gotta be just us. 

“I mean, if it’s an Underworld thing, don’t you think Hazel should go, too?” Frank suggested. 

Hazel shook her head. “Pluto's powers are more centered on the riches in the earth,” she explained. “I can't do any of the stuff that Nico can.” 

“Well, it can't just be the two of you,” Annabeth argued stubbornly. “That's just not how it's supposed to work. Quests have three people for a reason.” 

“We've broken that rule plenty of times so far, Beth,” Percy reminded her. “Right now we're really banking on a two-man quest panning out. 

The room went silent and everyone glanced at Jason, who was leveling Annabeth with a devastatingly flat stare. “Nico's the expert. If he says only us, only us is the answer.”

Nico's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he turned his attention to Annabeth as well. She was still frowning, but she was smart enough to know when she was beat. “Fine, just the two of you then. Try not to pick a fight with any minor gods while you're there.” 

“No promises,” Jason shot back. His gaze flicked over to Nico. “We'll be there in fifteen. Be ready.” 

Nico felt his grin sharpen. “Let's go visit a ghost.” 

Getting to shore was fairly easy, all things considered. Annabeth had been reluctant to dock the Argo II too close to the pier, so Nico and Jason had both made their way onto a nearby tourist boat, and they'd entered the city without much notice. There had been that one little girl who gawked at them as they landed on the deck and stepped out of the shadows, respectively, though. She stared at them with wide eyes and tugged on her mother's shirt, speaking in rapid-fire German. Her mother had looked up from her brochure, but her gaze went a little foggy and slid over Nico and Jason like they were simply decoration before chiding the little girl and tugging her along by the hand. 

“Let's get going,” Jason muttered quietly. “I don't want this to take any longer than it has to.” 

Nico nodded and followed him off the boat into the town. 

Split was beautiful, even Nico could see that much, and he immediately understood why it was such a popular travel destination. The city was obviously old, even ignoring all of the ghosts roaming around. The first area they had stepped into was a long esplanade lined with all sorts of shops and sidewalk cafes and palm trees and chatting European teenagers. Beyond that, though, the city spoke of its history in the form of a mishmash of medieval castles, modern offices, Roman structures, and limestone townhouses that were built either a month or millennia ago. Beyond that, the hill stretched ever onwards towards the looming mountain range that Jason kept giving dirty looks. 

They were about to leave the esplanade when Jason suddenly nudged Nico's arm. “Do you see that?” 

Nico's gaze flicked over to where Jason was looking. “If by that you mean the guy with angel wings buying ice cream, then yeah, I see it.” He narrowed his eyes and frowned at the Bermuda shorts and warm-colored wings and charming grin. “He's definitely not from the Underworld.” 

“He's a wind god,” Jason confirmed. “Trust me, I have a lot of experience with wind gods.” 

Nico hadn't been doubting him, but Annabeth's warnings to not mess with any minor gods rang in his ears. “Should we follow him?” 

As if he heard Nico's words, the angel dude turned from the ice cream cart and gave them a wide grin. Then, remarkably, he gestured over his shoulder with his chocolate ice cream bar and dissolved into thin air. 

“I don't think we have much of a choice,” Jason said, his sharp eyes following something Nico couldn't see. “I'm pretty sure he's going to the palace.” 

The palace Jason led them to was remarkably impressive, even after so long. The outside was crumbling, but still mostly intact, and at nearly 80 feet tall, it certainly put all the other little buildings in Split to shame. Every remaining brick and statue all but screamed regal opulence, and Nico got the feeling that it would have been breathtaking back in its heyday. 

“We need to get inside,” Jason said, still tracing his invisible mark. There was a nearby line to get in, but before Nico could even think to suggest it, Jason gave a derisive snort. “Hold on.” 

Without waiting for a response, Jason wrapped his arms around Nico's waist and shot into the air. They landed on the other side of the wall, in front of the wide-eyed little girl 

from the boat, who once again tugged at her mother's shirt. “Mama! Da sind wieder die Jungs! Die, die geflogen sind!” 

“Das reicht jetzt, Marie. Ich habe deine Geschichten satt.”

“Aber Mama–”

“Schluss damit.”  Then she was dragged away, though Marie kept looking over her shoulder at them. 

Nico shook his head and scowled at Jason. “Don't touch me. Not everyone likes being grabbed like that.” 

Jason scowled back at him for a moment, before bowing his head in acknowledgement. “Fine. Sorry. Do you know where we need to go? Is Diocletian's ghost anywhere?” 

Nico swept his gaze over the area, and while there were a few ghosts patrolling the ground, even in death, none of them were Diocletian. However, as Nico looked around, he could feel his own ghosts crawling their way back from the past. He gestured at a set of white marble steps. “No, but let's check there. The peristyle would have been the entrance to his home.”

Jason's eyebrows shot up, but he followed orders. “How do you know that?” 

“Because I've been here,” Nico said keeping his tone flat to deter any other questions. “My mom took Bianca and I when I was about six.” 

“Back in the thirties?” 

“Around thirty-eight,” Nico confirmed stiffly. “Why do you care?” 

“Who says I do?” Jason challenged. Then he shook his head. “Look, I was raised by a wolf pack from the ages of two to five. I don't have any room to judge childhoods, but I do know that teammates need to trust each other, and that's not easy if you don't know anything about one another.” 

“And what if I don't trust you?” Nico shot back. 

Jason studied him in silence, his face as hard and expressionless as it ever was. “Then this is gonna suck. Now, come on.” 

Nico led the way in silence, though he felt a soft wave of relief once they were able to leave the harsh light of the sun and step into the cold, comforting embrace of the earth. “This used to be the mausoleum.” 

“Used to?” 

“When the Empire fell, this place was turned into a Christian cathedral,” Nico explained. He cast a glance at the furious ghosts pacing the walls. “As you can imagine, the Romans who are still here didn't exactly love that.” 

Jason just grunted in response before he paused and gestured at an empty staircase. “Where does that lead?” 

Nico glanced over and saw a russet-colored feather practically floating on the top step. “One way to find out.”

They made their way deeper underground, but where they wound up obviously wasn't meant to be on any guided tours, considering it was completely dark and all the wooden support beams creaked ominously. At his side, Nico saw Jason flip his coin out into its sword form, and in the glow of Imperial Gold, Nico had to force himself to not jump at the sight of the ghostly face peering back at him. 

Before them sat an abandoned bust of Diocletian himself, intricately, lovingly chiseled into the marble. He had a large, proud nose and a brow forever stuck in a stern furrow. He looked every inch the Roman emperor he was destined to be. Jason stared at the statue, his face pulled into a similar frown, and Nico couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to see himself in the face of this once-great leader. Then he shook his head and stepped forward, a folded up piece of paper in his hand. “Reyna will find the note here.” 

Nico glanced around the abandoned cellar. “You sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Nico was about to say something when a warm, dry wind wrapped around him and a friendly voice filled the air. “Hiya, fellas!”

Without a moment's hesitation, Jason had his sword drawn, and he was blinking down at the now shattered bust of Diocletian. “Uh, oops?” 

“Well, you certainly have some quick reflexes, Jason,” the angel dude said, his voice dancing on a laugh. He fluttered his wings and the wind picked up, swirling all of the broken pieces together and reforming the bust. “There we are. No harm, no foul, eh?” 

“Right,” Nico muttered, looking him up and down. “Uh, no offense, but who exactly are you?” 

“Only one of the kindest and most beloved of my brothers, of course,” he grinned. “I am Lord of the West Wind.” 

“Favonius,” Jason finished, his jaw uncomfortably set. 

Favonius clapped his hands and beamed. “Exactly! Though I'm not surprised you know me. You're more in tune with the winds than some of my actual children.” 

Nico narrowed his eyes. “That's your Roman name, right?” 

Favonius waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, Zephros is in here somewhere. He's more of an early riser, so he’s gone down for his afternoon nap. Names don’t really matter much to me, though; you're more than welcome to use whichever name you're most comfortable with.”

“Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict?” 

“Oh, that's only a problem for the headliners,” Favonius scoffed. “I'll admit that sometimes it'd be nice to get a little recognition, but being a minor god has its perks sometimes. I did get a headache the other day, but I think that had more to do with the brain freeze than the squabbling of demigods.”

Nico felt his own headache starting to form as he scowled at the god’s dismissive attitude. 

“Why did you lead us down here?” Jason asked sharply. He still had his sword out and he was watching Favonius like he was a poisonous snake. 

The god didn't seem to notice his caution and just looked around, brow puckered like he had forgotten why he was there. “Hmm? Why did I... Oh, right.” He snapped his fingers and gestured at the bust. “This here is the sarcophagus of Diocletian, his final resting place after the Christians moved him out of the mausoleum. I know what you seek, Jason Grace. My master wants you to know that it is not here; he has taken it to keep it safe. If you want it, you will have to face him.” 

“I'm guessing you don't mean Aeolus,” Jason said, his tone clipped. 

Favonius' eyes sparkled like sunlight on the sea. “Oh, no, I'm afraid not. Though he would be much easier for you.” He shot Nico a sympathetic look. “The both of you, I'd imagine. Yes, my master has been expecting you, Nico di Angelo.” 

Nico's grip on his sword tightened and his mouth soured. “What's that supposed to mean?” 

Favonius looked delighted beyond words. “Well, now, I wouldn't want to ruin his surprise, would I? Besides, you'll learn soon enough. Now, come along, boys. Let's have some fun.” 

Then, without warning, the god stepped forward and grabbed their wrists.

Back at the Lotus Hotel and Casino, Nico had almost immediately been obsessed with card games. It started off with simple games like rummy and spades, and even poker when he could sneak up to the table. Eventually, it grew to include trading cards, and then of course, Mythomagic came into the scene, and it became all but impossible to have a normal conversation with 10-year-old Nico. 

Bianca wasn't like that, though. She’d always hated sitting still, and the Lotus Hotel had an indoor theme park that could move her around very, very fast, which she liked a lot. She'd bounce from ride to ride, but she'd always return to one called the Phanes’s Scrambler that spun the seats around two axes, one in the middle of each cluster of egg-shaped cars, and one large one in the center of the ride. It went much faster than it looked like it did, and to really drive the point home, each of the arms holding the car clusters would occasionally lift up into the air and hold its occupants upside down. Nico didn't like rides much, but Bianca would sit with him during his card tournaments, so it seemed only fair that he return the favor and partake in her preferred activity. Despite his determination to be supportive, he went on the Phanes’s Scrambler once, and only once. 

That being said, Nico wished he could return to that feeling, because whatever Favonius just did to them was every awful part of the Phanes’s Scrambler put together, multiplied, and whirred up into a blender to make a smoothie of nauseating misery. Even Jason, who took to the skies at the drop of a hat, was left stumbling and looking slightly green. 

“Whoopsie-daisy!” Favonius laughed, looking between them. “I forgot how difficult wind travel is for... corporeal bodies. Honestly, I don't understand how you mortals put up with these fleshy prisons day in and day out. It'd drive me up the wall!” 

“Yeah, I'd hate for something like that to happen,” Nico muttered. Then he looked around, frowning to himself. They were in what appeared to be the ruin of an ancient city. Some areas, such as the half-buried amphitheaters and empty temples and bathhouses, looked like they had been half-heartedly excavated, but the long lines of crumbling pillars had been left behind, abandoned to time. Nico turned on Favonius with a scowl. “Where did you take us?” 

“This is what remains of the once beautiful city of Salona,” Favonius announced, gesturing grandly around them. “Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of the one and only Diocletian! But most importantly for our field trip today, it is the home of my master.” 

“And who is your master?” 

“Cupid.”

Nico whipped his head around at the sound of Jason's voice. It was the first time he'd spoken since Favonius announced that they were to meet his master, and his face was pale. Nico felt his throat tighten with anxiety as well. “Cupid?”

“Yes, Cupid, or Eros as you Greeks would know him,” Favonius confirmed gleefully. “Though generally he goes by his Roman name. Mortal branding and all that, I'm sure you understand.” 

Nico's jaw tightened. “And why would you be serving the god of love?” 

Favonius gave him an almost sympathetic smile. “We all serve Love in one way or another. The sooner you embrace that, the better, Nico.” 

Nico bared his teeth. “I don't serve anyone, much less love.” 

“Don't you?” Favonius challenged, eyes glinting. “You act as if you think you're so different from everyone, but you're more like me and your friend Jason here than you know.” He cast an even more sympathetic glance at Jason. “I will say, I've rarely seen anyone so dedicated to Love as he is. Tell me, Jason. Is there anything left of you or are you only a vessel for your mission?” 

Jason looked like he was going to be sick, and Nico thought of Piper, of Jason's desperate mission to save her, of Drew's biting words over IM. You're supposed to love her. Nico stepped forward, sword drawn, and he scowled at Favonius. “You haven't answered my question. “

“I suppose I haven't,” Favonius agreed easily. “Very well. There's never a bad time for a tragic love story.” 

The wind picked up, and suddenly Favonius was on one of the nearby pillars, looking down at them. He had a sappy smile on his face, and he spun a bronze hoop around one of his fingers. 

“Well, it all started many, many years ago, back when I was a wild young god. I was well-liked back then – everyone loves a good spring wind – and I fell in love many, many times with gods and mortals and nature spirits alike. And yet, for as many lovers as I had, none of them could ever compare to my beloved Hyacinthus. He was beyond remarkable.” 

Nico froze before he flicked his gaze over to Jason, who had managed to school his expression back into that carefully blank mask. Nico looked back at Favonius. “He?”

“Surprised to hear that so openly, aren't you?” Favonius laughed. “Why, I can hear your heart pounding from all the way up here, little angel.” 

Nico grit his teeth and fruitlessly tried to slow his heart, which was, in fact, trying to beat its way out of his chest. “Okay, fine. Cupid struck you with his arrow so you fell in love with a man, and now you serve him. Great story.” 

“Not quite,” Favonius corrected. “It takes more than simply falling for someone to find yourself a servant of Love. I'd done it plenty of times before Hyacinthus, after all. Besides, I've already told you: this story is a tragedy. 

“You see, I was not the only one struck by Hyacinthus’s beauty and charm. No, for the god Apollo had also fallen for my beloved. Apollo always told me that they were simply friends, that I had nothing to worry about, but I knew him, and I could see through his smiles. So, when I came across them playing a game of quoits, I was really quite beside myself. I was jealous, I didn't ask questions. I simply shifted the wind and… Well, these rings here are much heavier than I truly realized.” 

Nico felt his stomach churn. “You killed him? For playing a game?”

“I was aiming for Apollo!” Favonius defended. “Not that it truly matters. Apollo would have gotten his revenge on me, even if he had known the truth, had I not fled to the arms of my master. He understood the lengths, the viciousness, the depravity Love can force you to, and he shielded me.”

Once again, the wind picked up, but Nico got the feeling Favonius had nothing to do with this. He drew his sword and Jason did the same, and they fell into formation, covering one another's backs. 

“Oh, those won't do you much good against him, I'm afraid,” Favonius called. “You will have to face him. But learn from my mistakes. I let anger cloud my love. If you allow yourself to do the same, I cannot say your fate will be as kind as mine.” 

“We'll face him,” Nico snarled. “I've told you before, I serve no one.” 

“Suit yourself! Fair warning: he inherited his looks from his mother, so don't be surprised if he looks a bit familiar.” 

Then the world went completely still, the air was thick with tension, and when Nico glanced up, he saw that Favonius was gone. Behind him, Jason let out a quiet growl, whipping his head back and forth in search of a threat. “Where is–” 

Nico cut off his question by flying back first into a crumbling wall, bricks raining down around him. He'd been completely bodied by an invisible force, and when he forced himself to his feet, his chest felt tight. “Where the hell did that come from?” 

“I don’t know,” Jason said tersely. “I didn't see anything.” 

Very few ever see me coming. 

Nico snapped his head around, but it was useless. The breathy, menacing voice had echoed from every corner of the ruin all at once. “Where is he?” 

Everywhere. Nowhere. In all people and the actions they take, Cupid answered uselessly. It is rare that you are the one to find Love; Love is the one who finds you. Isn't that right, Jason Grace? 

To emphasize his point, the same invisible force that hit Nico, struck Jason like a truck, sending him into the foundation of a house. When he emerged, covered in dust, his eyes were blazing with fury. “I'm not scared of you! I have found and faced my love. Now give us the scepter and let us leave.” 

You have faced finding love, but you have yet to face losing it. 

“I haven't lost anything! I will get them back!” 

Cupid made a sound like he was clucking his tongue in disappointment. Do you think the scepter will help you with that? 

Jason visibly faltered for a moment and Nico saw his determination flicker. “I– Yes, of course it will.” 

How? You can’t even use it. The scepter requires a child of the Underworld to summon the dead and a Roman officer to lead them. 

“I am an officer. I am a praetor of the Twelfth Legion, son of Jupiter and champion of Juno!” 

Yes, you hold your titles, but do they hold you? Be honest, Jason Grace. Are you even truly a Roman anymore? 

Jason's face went a shade paler and his usually steady sword tip dipped. “I…”

Nico stepped forward and scowled at nothing. “You leave the use of the scepter to us. We can handle it.” 

Cupid laughed and the sound was so loud and resonant that it made the wall shake. You? You can hardly handle your own feelings. How ever do you propose you will handle this? Jason has faced and accepted me, but you? You fear me far, far too much. 

“I'm not scared of anything!” Nico shouted defiantly. “I’ve walked through Tartarus! You think a crush scares me?” 

You certainly don't fear the feelings, but you fear what they might mean.

“That doesn't make any sense!” 

Love rarely does, Cupid admitted. You must accept it before it becomes your undoing. 

“Then face us!” Nico snapped. “Show yourself, you coward!” 

There was a sharp whizzing sound, and suddenly Jason let out a wheeze, stumbling back and clutching his chest, where an arrow was sprouting between his fingers. Nico's eyes went wide, and he took a step forward to help, but the arrow dissolved, leaving behind no wound or blood, or even torn fabric. Jason looked at his hands, clearly just as baffled as Nico. “What the–” 

Are you sure you're ready to look upon the face of your love? It is a costly thing, Cupid warned. My wife was the first to do it. My mother, Aphrodite, warned her that to look into my eyes would be madness, but my beloved Psyche was driven by curiosity and fear alike. She disregarded her warnings, and brought a candle to my bedside as I slept. When I awoke and our eyes met, she was struck by what she saw. 

“Too ugly for even your wife to love, then?” Jason spat. 

Cupid laughed again. In some ways, yes. Love is not always the soft kind thing you mortals think it is. There is a reason my counterpart is Death. Some even think him to be the kinder of us. 

“I'm not scared of death, and I'm certainly not as scared of you as your wife was.” 

Whoever said my face frightened her? My wife was struck with love at the sight of my face. So much so that when my mother punished Psyche for her betrayal and her lack of trust, she went through unimaginable trials to return to my side. Do you want to know the trials your Love is facing? The trials you believe you could have prevented? 

Jason looked terrified now, shaking from head to toe, and his eyes were wide and glassy, staring at horrors Nico couldn't see. “I– No, I didn't–” 

“Stop it!” Nico demanded at the top of his lungs. He stomped his foot, and the ground around him cracked. The grass withered to dust, and skeletal hands burst forth and reached for the sky. “You want a plaything? Just try me. I am Nico di Angelo, Prince of the Underworld, Ghost King. I have faced nightmares beyond imagination, and you don't scare me.” 

Oh, Nico, I do scare you, I scare you so very much. But I will let you have your way. I will face you. 

Then the world went still again, and the silence was broken by the sound of sneakers on gravel. Desperately, Nico thought of anyone he had ever loved: His mother, Bianca, Hazel. He frantically focused on the memory of Annabeth's sharp, intelligent eyes, and the way she smiled at him with such surprising, undeserved kindness. Anything but– 

“Very good try, Nico, but you knew that wasn't going to work. Maybe for my mother it would have, but I am only one type of love.” 

Nico gasped and looked up to see Cupid approaching him. He had a casual, confident gait, like he'd taken on the fate of the world, saved it, and come out in time to go grab dinner from his favorite sandwich shop. His hair was a messy black mop streaked with gray, and his sea-green eyes sparkled at him over a roguishly crooked grin. Nico, just like always, felt his heart stutter and his cheeks warm at the sight of that smile. His breathing turned shallow and desperate. “I– I–” 

“Go on then, Nico,” Cupid challenged, his eyes glinting with something that looked like delight. “You're not scared of me, are you? Why don't you tell Jason why I look like this?” 

Nico felt tears stinging in his eyes as his throat swelled shut as he bowed his head, trying to hide. “I don't– I don't know what you're talking about.” 

“Come now, Nico, just admit it,” Cupid taunted. “He already knows. Anyone who even looks at you can tell.” 

“I– That's not– 

Cupid tilted his head back and laughed again, but he suddenly cut himself off. “Well, isn’t this interesting?”  

Nico looked up to see Jason standing between him and Cupid. “You want someone to face you? Fine, I'll face you,” Jason said, his voice chillingly calm and even. “Show me the face of Love.” 

Cupid's gaze flicked to Nico like he was a little disappointed, but then he shrugged. “Very well.” 

As Nico watched, Cupid shrank. His hair went from straight to curly, and his eyes warmed to a brilliant shade of bronze. When he smiled, his teeth were all wonky and his nose wrinkled playfully. “Well, here I am, Jason Grace,” Cupid said, his tone rounded now, colored with a bright accent. “Are you ready to face me?” 

Jason nodded firmly. “My name is Jason Grace. I am in love with my best friend, Leo Valdez, and I am the reason he's in Tartarus.” 

Nico felt the world screech to a record halt, and he gawked at Jason, but he and Cupid were still staring at one another, not seeming to care in the slightest that Nico's world had just been upended. 

“Do you truly believe that?” Cupid asked. “Do you believe you sentenced him to Tartarus?” 

“I have to believe it,” Jason replied grimly. “I have to believe it's my fault, because that means I can fix it. I promised him I would.” 

“And if you can't fix it? If he's lost down there for eternity?” 

“Then Love will be my undoing.” Jason said the words with finality, like he was tying up the threads of his own destiny right there in Saloma. “I have dedicated my heart and life to Love. Without it, without him, I do not know what will become of me.” 

“And do you think that's fair?” Cupid probed, his voice almost gentle. “Is it fair to tie your soul to another without him even being aware?” 

Jason gave him a tight, rueful smile. “Well, Love isn't fair, is it?” 

“Indeed it is not,” Cupid finally agreed. He stuck his hand into the pocket of a tool belt around his waist and pulled out the scepter, which he then handed to Jason. “Go. Save your love. But remember this. To truly love him, you must also save yourself. Release yourself from undue burdens.” 

Jason's jaw tightened as he took the scepter. “I'll try.” 

Cupid nodded, though he didn't really look like he believed him. Then he turned to Nico. He mostly still looked like Leo, but his eyes got a little greener. “Your time to face me will be at hand, Nico di Angelo. I hope this has shown you that you needn't face me alone.” 

Then, just as suddenly as he came, he was gone. 

Once they were alone, Jason collapsed to the ground in a heap like an abandoned puppet. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and when Nico cautiously reached out for him, all the hair on his arm stood straight up with static. “Jason, are you alright?” 

Jason didn't answer him for several terse and silent seconds, and when he finally lifted his head, his eyes seemed hollow. “I'm fine. He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know.” 

Nico chewed on his bottom lip and looked away. “Why did you do that? He wouldn't have told me anything I didn't already know.”

“You would have said something I didn't know,” Jason pointed out. “Something you weren't ready for me to know.” 

Nico grit his teeth as Cupid's taunting words rang in his head. He already knows. Anyone who looks at you can tell. “Yeah, well, I didn't have to say it for it to be pretty obvious.” 

Jason firmly shook his head. “No. You didn't say it, so I don't know anything. I can make a guess, but that doesn't mean it's right.” 

Nico sucked his teeth. “I never would have guessed about you,” he confessed. “I figured you were in love with Piper.” 

Jason heaved a heavy sigh. “It's the easiest assumption to make.” 

Nico went silent again before he cleared his throat. “I had a crush on Percy for years.” Jason went stiff, and Nico rushed to add, “I don't feel that way anymore. Not for a while, but I… Yeah.” 

Jason watched him carefully. “You didn't have to tell me that.” 

“And you didn't have to get between me and Cupid.” Nico sat down at Jason's side and started tracing his fingers through the dirt. “Besides, I needed to tell someone eventually. It's the first time I've ever said it out loud.” 

“It was my first time properly saying it, too, Jason admitted. “Piper figured it out before I could say anything, and there hasn't been a real chance for me to tell anyone myself. Back at Camp, Piper was determined to get me and Leo together, so I think she might have told Drew to get some help, but those are the only two who officially know.” 

Nico thought back to that IM again. “She told Drew? Weren't you upset?” 

“Not really,” Jason shrugged. “She was just trying to help, and she trusted Drew, so I did, too. It was the right choice, in the end.”

Nico nodded, though he couldn't truly wrap his mind around it just yet. They sat there in silence for a bit before Nico nudged him. “You ready to head back to the ship?” 

Jason groaned and got to his feet, scepter still in his white-knuckled grip. “Yeah, let's get out of here.” He cast a sideways glance at Nico and shuffled his feet. “Can you… 

“Shadow travel?” Nico prompted. “Sure, I can do that.” 

Jason heaved a sigh of relief. “Cool. I'm sick of being exposed, and I'm sick of the wind.” 

Nico's mouth twitched up. “Come on, then. Let's get the hell out of here.” 

He wrapped his fingers around Jason's wrist, and the world darkened around them. The shadows welcomed them with open arms, ready to keep their secrets for as long as they held them.  

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Leo hated more than anything, it was being stuck. No matter how bad things got, he made sure that he always, always had an escape route. Those routes weren't necessarily pleasant, much less easy, but he always knew where his nearest exit was and how to get to it. It wasn't something he was proud of, and he certainly hadn't enjoyed everything it took to learn that skill, but at the end of the day, it served him well, and he relied heavily on it without much thought. 

Needless to say, Leo was having a grand old time. 

Given that he was perched like a parrot on the shoulder of a glowing titan who had recently, and reasonably, betrayed them, clinging to his steadily-gilding best friend (a result of said betrayal) and he couldn't see more than six feet in front of him because he was in Tartarus, there weren't exactly a lot of options open to him at the moment. In all honesty, he was pretty sure that the only way he was getting out of this mess was by laying down and dying, then hoping his soul was buoyant enough to float up to the underworld proper instead of being stuck in misery forever. Unfortunately for him, Piper had specifically vetoed that idea, leaving him stuck at the drawing board. 

As if hearing his thoughts Piper's distressingly still body slipped slightly, and Leo clutched her a bit tighter, refusing to let her fall even a little. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Bob?” 

“Yes, Friend Leo?” 

“Can you, um, tell me what's wrong with Piper?” 

Bob was silent for an uncomfortable moment. “It is a curse,” he said carefully, and Leo had to bite his tongue to keep from saying no duh. “When she met Midas, she cursed him, and he cursed her back.”

Leo swallowed thickly and pursed his lips. He didn't remember much of the encounter with Midas the previous December. One minute they'd all been talking, then Midas reached for Piper, and Leo got between them. The next thing he saw was Jason's pale, terrified face as he desperately attempted to drown Leo to de-goldify him. Leo's stomach churned at the thought of Jason, so he quit thinking about him. “Do you think your friend can really help her?” 

“Damasen is not a friend, exactly,” Bob corrected. “But if anyone can help Friend Piper, it will be him.” 

That was definitely not a yes, and Leo knew it, even if Bob tried very hard to avoid saying it. 

Leo was pretty glad that he was gripping Piper like his life depended on it because otherwise his hands would have been shaking like mad. The futility of it all was almost funny, if it wasn't so fucking unfair. He hadn't actually saved Piper back at Midas's place, and he knew it. He'd tried his best, acted without thinking, but he hadn't been good enough. He hadn't been enough to save her. That responsibility had fallen on Jason. If anything, his stupid act of mock-heroism had probably been the reason she'd even put her curse on Midas. Not only had he failed to save her back then, he was the reason she was dying now. 

“Stellar work as always, Valdez,” he muttered viciously under his breath. Bob was nice enough not to ask what he was talking about, which was good as Leo was pretty sure he would have burst into big, ugly tears that would have broadcasted their location to every monster ever if he'd been forced to open his mouth. 

“We're almost there!” Bob announced cheerfully. 

Leo went to ask where exactly “there” was, but the moment he opened his mouth, he was hit with a wall of stench that made him gag and clap his free hand over his mouth and nose, while Small Bob horked up a disgusted hairball on Big Bob's other shoulder. Leo hoped that all of Piper's olfactory senses weren't working at the moment because he wasn’t able to even try and save her from it. “Dude, what the hell is that smell?” 

“Damasen's home,” Bob explained casually. Apparently, either his life as a janitor or a warlord had exposed him to enough gross stuff that he was able to keep his composure. “He lives in the swamp.” 

Leo's brain immediately launched into overdrive, trying to figure out which disgusting body part made up the swamp. Based on the acidic sting in the air and the unpleasant squelch of the fleshy ground Bob was crossing, Leo had the nasty suspicion that they were approaching Tartarus’s stomach. The thought was mind-boggling enough to make his temple throb. “Why would he choose to live there? I'm not saying there's any appealing real estate down here, but there was surely something better than this. Something that didn't require a hazmat suit at the least.”

“He… didn't choose it.” 

Well, that was certainly a comforting thought. By all means let's go visit the one and only friendly – but not too friendly – Giant who was assigned to live in the literal belly of the beast by some unknown entity. What a grand idea. Sounds like the perfect little weekend getaway. 

Part of Leo's brain screamed at him to leap off of Bob's shoulder and sprint in the opposite direction, but he couldn't. Even if he had any idea how to help Piper, he wouldn't be able to get her where he needed to go. If he tried to drag her around like she was, they'd be monster chow before he could say, “Maybe this was a bad idea.” So, that meant he was going to sit there and behave while Bob brought him to Shrek's vacation rental in hell. 

“So, uh, who did pick it, if not him?” Leo asked as casually as possible, watching a particularly slimy bit of flesh squish up around Bob's work boot. “If you don't mind me asking.” 

“That is not a story for me to tell, Friend Leo.” 

“Oh, so there's a story now?” 

Bob cut a glance at him from the corner of his eye. “All things have a story, even if they don't remember it. You simply must be willing to listen.” 

Well that shut Leo right up. He once again thought about Jason. About the stories of his former life he’d told Leo and all the others he'd yet to remember. He thought about the Jason in his dream. The one surrounded by a raging storm and thunder so loud it made Leo's bones rattle, and how that Jason's face had been a cold and distant mask. He wondered what stories Jason would have when they made it back to the surface. 

If you make it back, an unpleasant, unhelpful part of his brain reminded him. Just like always he told it to shut up, but he knew it would be back. It had been his constant friend for many years, and it was having a field day in Tartarus. He did his best to ignore it but that was hard when the little bastard made such compelling points. 

Fortunately, Bob gave him something else to focus on when he half-tripped over what Leo hysterically suspected was a kidney stone. “Oops,” Bob muttered, righting himself. He then crouched down to examine it closer and beamed. “I have good news, Friend Leo!” 

“Uh.” Leo quickly wracked his brain, trying to think of anything that could be considered good news in Tartarus. “I got nothing. Hit me, buddy.” 

Bob held up the rock he tripped over, which was actually a lot whiter and sharper than Leo was entirely comfortable with. “I found a tooth! Well, part of one.” 

“And that's... good?” 

“Yes,” Bob confirmed. “It is a drakon tooth. That means we have made it.” 

Leo felt his face pale. He'd never met a drakon outside of mythology class at camp, but he'd heard nasty stories about one from the Titan War. Based on the sheer size of the tooth in Bob's hand, drakons were a lot bigger than anything Leo had ever imagined. 

“Damasen lives with a drakon?” 

“It is... complicated,” Bob admitted. “There, you will see for yourself.” 

Leo looked at where Bob was pointing and nearly wept with relief. The thick yellow fog had finally cleared, allowing Leo to get a good look at the swamp, with its grey, pockmarked ground spotted with ugly, stunted trees. In the center island was a gigantic, domed hut made out of bone and wood and bits of leathery red monster skin that fluttered in the oppressive breeze. 

Most importantly, though, was the enormous drakon skull off to the side. As Leo expected, the thing was beyond massive and would have given Festus more inadequacy issues than Leo would have been able to handle literally ever. Right in the middle of its lower jaw was an equally massive tree that was growing at a weird 43 degree angle, the one bit of live, natural greenery Leo had seen since getting down here. 

“Oh, it's dead,” Leo all but laughed with relief. “You really had me worried there for a minute, dude.” 

Bob actually turned his head to look at him a bit funny. “Dead? Oh, no, that drakon was merely the first. A testament to Damasen's victory.” 

Leo's face fell. “The first?” 

Before Bob could properly answer him, a mighty roar echoed through the swamp. It was a harsh, grating sound, and Leo remembered Jake's haunted look as he described how many campers had given up, falling to the ground to cower in surrender when they'd heard it in Manhattan the previous summer. Leo had been astonished at the idea, and couldn't really wrap his head around what could have possibly made so many ferocious, fearless heroes scared enough to just give up all hope. 

Now, as he sat there, the drakon charging towards them, he completely understood. 

When Leo was four years old, Tía Callida defined bravery for him. He was barely out of toddlerhood, so in his mind, her penchant for calling him her “brave little hero” meant that she thought he wasn't scared of anything. Considering the fact that Leo couldn't watch a trailer for a horror movie without hiding behind his mamá’s legs, this was definitely inaccurate, and back then, Leo didn't like lying. 

Tía Callida laughed so hard she had to sit down when he corrected her. 

“Silly boy,” she chided, eyes sparkling. “Maybe you aren't my brave little hero. Maybe you're my charming little fool.”

Eventually, she caught her breath and pulled him into her lap, ignoring his pout. “Bravery is not the lack of fear, little one,” she explained. “It is simply the act of staring down that which scares you and saying, ‘You cannot catch me. You will not beat me. Can you do that? Can you be brave, little hero?” 

Leo was pretty sure that if she saw him right now, she wouldn't think he was very brave at all. 

To be fair, though, bravery was a lot easier to come by when there wasn't better than a hundred feet of teeth and drakonic fury barreling towards you across the dismal swamp of Tartarus. 

Bob, it seemed, was not nearly so concerned. “The drakon is coming.” 

“I can see that,” Leo agreed, trying very hard to make sure that his voice didn't quite reach the pitch of a squeak and maybe only half succeeding. “Should we maybe, uh, run? Or something?” 

“No,” Bob said firmly. “We must wait for Damasen.” 

And, well, fuck, what was Leo supposed to say to that? He didn't have any options, much less a plan, even if the thought of just sitting there until they were snapped up in one bite by a mystical being who was designed to instill terror and despair made him want to preemptively burst into flames. “Are you expecting us to help him fight that thing?” 

“He does not need our help,” Bob insisted. 

Okay, add yet another thing to the list of stuff that terrified Leo about this guy who could apparently take on an extra-large drakon single-handedly. With that in mind, Bob didn't seem like nearly so solid an ace in the hole as Leo originally thought. What good was one amnesiac Titan, an anxious, self-immolating demigod, a future lawn ornament, and an undead kitten against someone like that? 

He didn't get to dwell on that too long, though, because as the drakon let out a mighty roar, the Giant himself burst forth from his hut and met it in a furious hand-to-hand battle. 

Ironically enough, between the fact that the drakon was a deep, rich burgundy and Damasen was a dark, muddy green, it did actually look a bit like Shrek was wrestling Dragon. Leo figured that probably meant he was Donkey, and that led to far, far too many unpleasant rabbit holes, so he quickly nipped the comparison in the bud. 

So far, Leo had seen two Giants in person, Enceladus being the runt of the litter and Porphyrion being the big, bad king of Giants, so he felt pretty confident saying that Damasen was clocking in on the larger side of the scale. He had the same enormous snake-slash-dragon legs as his brothers, but where Porphyrion had been powerful in his size, Damasen was visibly much bigger. He was muscular and strong, and Leo got the feeling that if the two Giants ever had an arm-wrestling match, Damasen would win while yawning in boredom. 

As if to confirm Leo's suspicions, Damasen made a swift move and had the drakon pinned beneath him, and with a brutal yank, he ripped the thing's skull off of its lower jaw. 

“Oh god, is he gonna kill us?” Leo breathed. 

“Hopefully not,” Bob mused, still not moving a muscle. 

“Yeah, hopefully,” Leo agreed, not even bothering to hide the squeak this time around. 

Damasen was kicking around the remains of the drakon when he suddenly looked up at them. “Who are you?” 

“Bob, you don't even know this guy?” Leo hissed. 

“Not yet,” Bob confirmed. Then, because he was insane, he started walking towards Damasen. “I am Bob. That was a good kill.” 

Damasen scoffed and kicked a suspiciously steaming hunk of meat and stuffed a bit of red leather into his belt for safekeeping. “I was on the hunt for bones, not this mess. I'll have to wait until tomorrow for repairs.” He looked up at Bob and narrowed his eyes. Leo noticed distantly this ferocious, drakon-slaying Giant had flowers woven into his scraggly green and brown beard. “Who do you have with you?” 

“This is Small Bob,” he explained, gesturing at the kitten. “And this is Friend Leo and Friend Piper.” 

“Friend, eh? Don't hear words like that down here much.” Damasen looked Leo over critically. “And just why'd you bring them here?”

“Piper, she's been cursed,” Leo said desperately. “Bob said you were her only hope. Please.” 

“‘Please,’ ‘hope,’” Damasen muttered. “More words I'd all but forgotten the meaning of.” 

“I'll say whatever words you want,” Leo pleaded. “Hope, friend, please and thank you. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

Bob and Damasen both looked baffled at that last one, but Damasen just shook his head to dismiss it. “Very well, follow me.” 

Truth be told, Leo didn't actually feel all that much better about following a Giant into his den than he had facing down the drakon, but Bob was already moving and Damasen hadn't squashed them immediately, so he figured this was still his best shot. 

Inside the hut was remarkably… Well, cozy wasn't quite the right word, considering it was very obviously made up of monster parts, but Leo was struggling to come up with a more suitable synonym in his state. There was a giant fire in the middle of the hut that crackled almost merrily, the floor was covered in thick woolen rugs and dried grass mats, and there was a pen of sheep contentedly bleeding at one another in the corner. There were even little carved figurines of sheep and monsters dotted along the shelves. Once again, Leo couldn’t help but wonder what kind of help Bob had brought him to. Like seriously, what kind of Giant had tchotchkes? 

“Put them on the bed and let me get a good look at the girl,” Damasen ordered, causing Bob to place Leo and Piper on a remarkably cushy bed. Damasen leaned in and Leo had to hold himself back from getting between him and Piper. “Hmm, looks like she got on the wrong side of some arai. A curse from Midas. This will be tricky.” 

“Can you help her or not?” Leo demanded, nerves already well past frayed. 

Damasen arched a bushy green eyebrow at him. “Of course I can. Bob, come stir this pot for me. I'm making a poultice.” 

Leo watched as Bob did as he was told, getting up on his tiptoes to stir the heavy black cauldron sitting in the middle of the flames. Meanwhile, Damasen puttered around the kitchen, occasionally adding various liquids to the pot, along with some unidentified chunks of what looked like meat and vegetables. While he did this, he also added a bunch of different herbs to a little sachet, which he then put in a bowl and ladled some of the surprisingly thick broth into. After a moment, he spat into the bowl, causing it to hiss and turn bright green. 

He then approached the bed and Leo, having finally gotten used to the swamp scent, gagged again. “Wait! You're not going to feed that to her, are you?” 

Damasen looked almost amused. “Considering it is a poultice? No.” He then reached forward and used the sachet to smear some of the weird goop over Piper's cheekbones and beneath her nose. Immediately, her skin turned from gold to brown and her body relaxed. For one heart-stopping second, nothing else happened and Leo felt tears tighten his throat, terrified that they were too late. 

Then, Piper's eyes flew open and she sat straight up, retching at the top of her lungs as she clawed at her face. “What the fuck is that smell?” 

“Hippalectryon dung, most likely,” Damasen said easily. Piper's head whipped around to him in alarm and he put his hands up. “Rest. I mean you no harm.” 

“This is Damasen,” Leo explained. “Bob brought us to him to cure your curse.” 

“Speaking of that,” Damasen cut in. “Unlike Bob here, I do not do things out of kindness. There will be a price for my services.” 

Leo stiffened and he cursed himself in every language he could think of. Of course Damasen wasn't going to do this for free. No one did anything for free, and Leo had completely forgotten that hard-learned lesson. “And just what is that price?”

Damasen fiddled with the cauldron for a moment before he turned around to offer them both massive bowls (Leo suspected they were thimbles) pinched in between his fingers. “My price is a story. I want you to tell me how you got here. While you do that, eat this.” 

Piper suspiciously stirred her portion. “Uh, what is it?” 

“Drakon meat stew.”

Leo glanced over at Piper, wondering what she'd do, but apparently either monsters didn't count as animals in the eyes of a vegetarian, or Tartarus had just pushed her to the point where dietary restrictions didn't matter because after less than a moment's consideration, she stuffed her spoon in her mouth. She did look a little green though, so Leo made the mental note to make her a batch of eggplant parmesan the moment he was able. 

He took his own bite of soup and was pleasantly surprised at how nice it tasted. It was a warm, earthy flavor that had just the right amount of kick without letting the spice overpower everything else. The mystery vegetables had a slight bite to them to keep from being squishy, and all the meat practically fell apart between his teeth. He was about to ask Damasen for the recipe, when he suddenly remembered that he was in Tartarus, and that with any luck, he'd never be able to get his hands on the ingredients. 

“So,” Damasen began again. “Tell me your story.” 

Leo was about to say that they didn't have a story to tell, when he suddenly remembered Bob's words from before. Everything has a story. Instead, he cleared his throat. “When I was six months old, my mom hired a babysitter for me. She was this older lady, always wore black even though it was Texas and it got hot as hell in the summer. She wasn't related to anyone, but she still told us all to call her Tía Callida.” 

From there, Leo just started talking. He told Damasen about everything. About his mom, how he lost her in a fire Gaia tricked him into starting, and all the different foster homes he'd been in. When his voice started to waver, Piper stepped in with her own tale, and when they finally got to the part where they met at Wilderness School, their stories flowed together like they were always meant to be told as one. They laughed, they shed a few tears, but throughout everything, they kept their fingers laced together so tight it almost hurt. 

When they were done, Damasen hummed to himself in thought. After a moment, he plucked a flower from his beard, only for another to immediately grow back in its place. “So, you and your friends intend to oppose Gaia?” 

“Yes”, Leo confirmed, his voice a little hoarse after talking so much. “She's, um, your mom, right?” 

“Yes,” Damasen said quietly. “And Tartarus is my father. I've rather disappointed them both, as you can see.” 

“Are you okay with us fighting her?” Piper asked cautiously. 

Damasen looked surprised at the question. “What you have just asked me is akin to asking 

if you begrudge the ant that bites the one disrupting their nest. It is only reasonable that you should fight. Unfortunately, much like an ant can never truly conquer a boot, your efforts will end in nothing but pain and death. You cannot defeat her.” 

“We can!” Piper insisted, with more surety than Leo felt. “There’s-There's this prophecy. Our friends–” 

“Are waiting for you,” Damasen finished. “Tell me, how do you intend to get to the Doors when Tartarus himself is opposing you?” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means he knows you are here,” Damasen said seriously. “He has known you are here the whole time, and he is the one who has made your path difficult. You have found a friend in Bob, but he cannot get you to the heart of Tartarus alone.” 

“Well, what if you helped us?” Leo suggested. 

Damason laughed so hard that some of his little wooden sheep fell over. “Young demigod, I told you that you have found a friend in Bob. I said no such thing for myself. No, I'm afraid my time of helping mortals is long since gone.” 

“You helped mortals?” Leo asked, trying not to sound as gobsmacked as he felt. 

“Once,” Damasen confirmed. “Many, many lifetimes ago.” 

“The Giants were made to oppose the Olympians, to embody the antithesis of what they stood for,” Piper said slowly, like she was putting together a puzzle in real time. “You were meant to oppose Ares. You were peaceful, weren’t you?” 

“No Giant is ever truly peaceful, but to an extent, yes,” Damasen sighed. “My family wanted war; I wanted only to tend my fields and herd my sheep. My parents cursed me, but I didn't care. I had my life, and it was a good one for many years. Then, one day, the Maeonian drakon, the one you saw outside, attacked and killed a friend of mine. In retribution, I hunted the beast down and killed it, planting a tree through its very skull so that it would never rise again. My mother did not take kindly to that.” 

“So now you have to fight that thing?” Leo asked. “A new one, every day. All because you helped some people?”

Damasen nodded, and Leo could trace the eons of strife on his face. “My mother opened the earth, and my father swallowed me whole, and I wound up here with everything else that he can't stand to look upon. I was allowed to live, but only so that I might endure my punishment, so that I might see the futility of it all. That is why I say you cannot beat her. I opposed her will in the past, and it has only brought me an eternity of suffering.” 

“But that's not fair!” Piper protested, and Leo could hear the tears in her voice. “What if you came with us? You could break your curse!” 

Damasen laughed again, but this time it was softer and warmer. “You are kind, little demigod, and full of your mother's love. That is a rare thing down here, so hold fast to it,” he told her. “But I am afraid it is not so simple a matter as you believe. You persist because you have hope. I have succumbed to my curse. There is no hope for me.” 

Piper's face screwed up in pain, and Leo instinctively opened his arms so she could bury herself in his chest while she wept. He stroked her hair and looked desperately up at Damasen. “How are we supposed to have hope? How can we possibly get out of here if someone like you can't?” 

“You spoke of the Death Mist, yes?” Damasen prompted. “Bob is right. It is a dangerous, foolish endeavor, but it is your best shot. He will lead you to Akhlys, and from there it will be up to you. Stand by one another, have faith in the other when faith in yourself fails, and maybe you will make it out alive. But for now, you should rest. You have much to do when you awake.” 

For once, Leo didn't argue. 

When Leo woke up a few hours later, he had no idea where he was. Last he checked, he was in Tartarus, but that did remarkably little to explain the warm, comfy mattress he was on. He was about to bolt upright, but he suddenly locked eyes with Piper, who held a finger to her lips in the universal sign for shh. 

“Bob and Damasen are talking,” she explained under her breath. Leo nodded silently in understanding and tried to listen as well. 

“You're giving them more hope than is fair, Bob,” Damasen said, his gentle rumbling voice filling the room. “You could be leading them to their deaths.” 

“You were the one who told them to hold fast to hope,” Bob pointed out. “Would you rather they give up?” 

Damasen heaved a sigh, and Leo got the feeling that he was plucking more flowers from his beard. “I do not wish to see their spirits crushed, but Akhlys? Do you truly think you can lead them past Night?” 

Leo felt a shiver run up his spine. One of the most important lessons demigods learned was that names had power, and plenty of it. Leo could hear the capital N in “Night” when Damasen said it. Whatever he was talking about, it was not mere darkness or a time of day. 

“Bob may not be able to lead,” Bob admitted quietly, “but I know of one who can. Friend Piper is right. You could leave this place. Come with us. Break your curse.” 

“It’s not that simple, Damasen said again. “Besides, why should I help them? Last time I helped mortals, I wound up here. Why you choose to help them is beyond me, considering demigods stole your memory.”

Leo could practically hear Bob stiffen. “I don't– 

“I know your story, Lord Iapetus. There are few down here who don't,” Damasen interrupted. “So tell me, why help them? You were created to fight and kill little heroes. Why deny your Fate?” 

Bob was quiet for a few contemplative moments before he spoke, voice soft. “Because I do not like my Fate. Bob prefers kindness and friendship to bloodshed. I would like to see the world again, see how it has grown. I would like to feel the setting sun on my skin and say hello to the stars as they blink to life. I am not satisfied with my Fate, and I wish to change it. What about you?” 

Damasen didn't respond for a while, and when he did, it wasn't to answer the question. “Your friends are awake.” 

As soon as he said the words, Piper sat up, clearly not concerned with secrecy anymore. “Bob's right,” she said fiercely. “You can come with us. We can all get out of here together.”

Damasen heaved a sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You are kind, Piper, but I must refuse. This curse is my burden, and I will bear it with what dignity I have left. But I will make your trip as easy as possible.” He stood and crossed the room, then came back with a couple of backpacks and little smocks made out of drakon leather. “While you slept, I took the liberty of making you some travel provisions, as well as a change of clothes. I'll admit that seamistry is not one of my skills, but I had hoped that they would make do.” 

Leo took the offered smock and immediately stripped out of his shorts and t-shirt, glad to be out of his disgusting clothes. The smock wasn't exactly flattering but it was clean and soft and that was all that really mattered in the moment. 

“Hand me some rope,” Piper demanded, elbowing Leo in the shoulder. After a few trips into the tool belt, he managed to fish out a length of hot pink parachute cord, which Piper tied around her waist. “How do I look?” 

“Like Xena forgot to change out of her pajamas.” She pushed him hard enough to make him fall onto his butt, but he didn't apologize because he wasn't sorry. 

I also have weapons for you two,” Damasen said. “I'll not see you wander off unarmed.” 

Leo immediately put his hands up and shuffled backwards. “Sorry, I don't do sharp and pointy. It's a whole thing for me.” To prove his point, he lit his arms on fire and did jazz hands. “This and my brain are my go-to weapons.” 

Damasen raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed, but he didn't push the matter. “Very well. Piper, this is for you.” He presented her with a gleaming white sword, curved and wickedly serrated on one side. It looked puny in Damasen's hand, but it was probably the length of Piper's forearm when she held it up. Her eyes were wide and she blinked up at Damasen. “Thank you.” 

“There is no need for thanks,” he said gently. “That blade is made of a drakon's tooth. Be careful with it, as unlike Celestial Bronze, it can harm mortal and mythical alike.” 

Piper nodded seriously. “I'll take good care of it, I promise.” 

“I have no doubt you will,” Damasen agreed. “Now, you must go. I sense my brother, Enceladus approaching.”

“What are you gonna tell them when they get here?” Leo asked. 

“Why, the truth, of course,” Damasen said, eyes sparkling. “By the time he gets here, there will be no demigods in sight, and the drakon can only be killed by me. What is he supposed to assume happened to you?” 

Leo let out a bark of laughter. “I like the way you think.” 

“And I like the way you act,” Damasen countered. “It's not every demigod who can befriend their two greatest foes.” 

Suddenly, Piper stiffened at his side. “That's it!” she gasped. “The prophecy! And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. We've been thinking it was about Greeks and Romans this whole time, but what if it's referring to demigods, Titans, and Giants? Oh, Damasen, you just have to come with us now! Please?” 

Leo stiffened, waiting to hear the sickly sweet edge of Charmspeak in her voice, but it never came. Instead, Damason smiled sadly and knelt before her. “Piper McLean, I thank you. You and Leo both. You have given me a shred of hope when I thought the last of it had finally withered and died.”

“So you'll come with us?”

“No,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You have renewed my hope, but not my bravery. I'm scared. This life I live is harsh and unyielding, but it is the only one I have known for so very long. It is my Fate, and I'm scared to leave it.” 

Piper squeezed her eyes shut, and Leo could see hot tears rolling down her cheeks. When she opened her eyes, they seemed to glow. “No,” she said fiercely. “This isn't your Fate. Not your only one, at least. You will see the sun and stars, and you will wander the open fields. You will fight back against the injustice of this place. Remember my face, Damasen. Remember my words. When you're ready, come and find me.” 

Once again, Piper's words lacked the expected Charmspeak, but they rang with a new kind of power. The air around her seemed to vibrate like the moment after a guitar string was plucked in a silent room. Leo felt his breath hitch, but Piper and Damason were completely focused on one another. 

Eventually, Damasen nodded. “I will remember you. Should I find my courage, I will find you as well.” 

Piper gave him a wide, watery smile and gripped his finger tight in both her hands. “Thank you, for everything.” 

“No, Piper. Thank you,” Damason said. “Now, you must go. Your enemies will be here soon.” 

Leo nodded and grabbed Piper's hand, tugging her away from the tragic Giant. “Come on, Pipes. We can't waste all his efforts by waiting around for someone to eat us. We gotta go.” 

“Okay,” Piper agreed, her voice wavering slightly. Without waiting for anyone, she jumped from the bed and fled out the door, Leo right behind her. 

He quickly caught up to her and laced their fingers together. “You did everything you could,” he told her, “but he has the right to make his own choices, even if it's not fair.” 

“I know, I just…” She cut herself off with a sniffle and fiercely scrubbed her at her wet cheek. 

“I get it,” Leo soothed, “but maybe what you said will get through to him one day. Maybe he'll change his Fate.” 

“Maybe,” Piper agreed half-heartedly. As if to answer them, a roar rang out just as they left the swamp. It was the same awful, terrifying roar that Leo had heard before, but this time a sound echoed back. It was a war cry of desperation and sorrow, and hope shattered by eons of misery. 

Beside him, Piper wept. 

Chapter Text

Something was wrong.  Something was very, very wrong. 

Percy didn't know what it was, exactly, but whatever it was made his teeth itch with nervous energy. Nico insisted it had something to do with Diocletian’s scepter, and maybe he was right. The weather had definitely been acting up since they brought it aboard the day before. Poor Hazel had been suffering so much that nobody even bothered to ask her about her watch shift; Frank just quietly stepped up and said he'd cover for her. The one and only time Percy had seen her since she’d retreated below deck, she'd been pale-faced and sickly-looking, and he could almost see the world spinning in her hazel eyes. All he'd been able to do was offer her a bottle of Dramamine, a tall glass of cold water, and a hope she would feel better soon. 

Still, though, that wasn't quite it. 

“I'm going to go below deck,” Nico announced, narrowing his eyes at the unnaturally choppy seas. “Maybe if it's down there, the weather will calm down.”

“I'm pretty sure Hazel's about willing to read that thing a bedtime story if she thought it had even a chance of helping,” Percy agreed. 

Nico nodded, then turned his narrowed gaze above the crow's nest where Jason was flying like he always seemed to be. “Grace!”

There was a moment of hesitation before Jason landed heavily in front of Nico. “What?”

“Shift's over. Go to bed,” Nico ordered. 

Jason furrowed his brow, bearing his teeth, and Nico scowled right back. Percy tensed, ready to intervene, but Jason just let out a huff and nodded. “Fine.”  Then he turned and marched right down the stairs, Nico hot on his heels. 

Percy just stood there, blinking after them for a moment, before he shook his head and climbed up on the quarterdeck where Annabeth was once again fiddling with the Archimedes Sphere. “Beth, you will not believe what I just saw.” 

Annabeth hummed in acknowledgement. “Okay, but first, pick a number one through ten.” 

“Uh, four.” 

Annabeth quickly punched a few buttons and spun a few gears before holding out the sphere with obvious pride. There was a quiet whirring sound, a little clunk, and then a sign popped up with four emblazoned on it in fancy script. “Ta-da!” 

Percy chuckled softly and sat down next to her. “Very nice. Can you do anything except party tricks?” 

“Not really,” she confessed. “I found an instruction manual for it in the disaster zone Leo calls a room, but it's so full of tech jargon that I can't actually make heads or tails of it. Also, Archimedes had terrible handwriting and Leo’s is somehow worse, which doesn’t really help.” 

Percy nodded in understanding. “So what, you're just experimenting to see what you can do?” 

“It's the only option I have,” she shrugged, placing the sphere back in her lap. “Now, what amazing thing did you see?” 

“What did- Oh, right!” Percy cleared his throat. “I don't know what happened between Jason and Nico and Split, but they're acting weird. Nico just told Jason to go rest. Wilder still, Jason listened.” 

Annabeth gave one of her thoughtful hums. “I had noticed something was odd between them, but I didn't want to question it too much, in case it made them stop,” she admitted. “Nico's so busy trying to keep Jason from killing himself that he can’t find time for his own suicide attempts. Honestly, I'm just glad they're at least talking to someone. They’ve both been so closed off and brooding since Rome and it’s been stressing me out.”

Percy refrained from pointing out that Nico had been closed off and brooding since he was ten, and just huffed out a little laugh and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in to press a smiling kiss to her hair. “You're gonna be a great mom one day.” 

She spluttered and pulled away from him, cheeks a shade darker. “Seaweed Brain!”

“What? I'm serious,” he laughed. “You notice stuff, you care, but you know when not to butt in. That's great mom material.” 

She puffed out her cheeks at him. “You shouldn't be making fun of me.” 

“Making fun? Who’s making fun?” he wondered. “I'm complimenting the future mother of my children over here.” 

“Percy!” she shrieked, smacking him on the shoulder. “You can't just say that!” 

Annabeth was now doing that thing where she had her hair fisted in both hands and was hiding her face. Percy thought his own cheeks were probably going to split from the force of his besotted smile, but he didn’t mind. “You're making it really hard to keep my mouth shut, just so you know, Wise Girl.” 

She peeked out at him from behind her braids, an equally wide smile on her mouth. She looked like she was about to say something, but another voice cut her off. “Um, am I interrupting?”

Percy looked up to see Hazel awkwardly standing there, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and looking like she wanted to disappear, face almost as flushed as Annabeth’s. Percy beamed at her and patted the floor at his side. “Not in the slightest. Take a seat.” 

Hazel did as she was told and sat down, but she stayed quiet, simply staring at her hands folded in her lap. Percy and Annabeth shared a glance before Percy reached out and nudged Hazel's knee with his foot. “What's up, Hazel?” 

Hazel took a deep breath and straightened her posture like she was about to give a presentation in class. “Okay, so I know you guys say trying to figure out prophecies is bad news–” 

“Percy says that, not me,” Annabeth corrected. 

“The Oracle of Delphi said it, actually.” 

“Whatever.” 

Hazel giggled at them for a moment before she shook her head. “So, I've been thinking about the prophecy, the big one, the Prophecy of Seven. And there's this one bit that's been stuck in my head, and I just…” She cut herself off, pursing her lips and squeezing her eyes shut. “To storm or fire, the world must fall.” 

Percy furrowed his brow. “I mean, I know it sounds bad, but maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it means world like Earth like Gaia. Seems to me like the prophecy is saying Jason or Leo will be the one to defeat her.” 

“I was thinking that, too, Annabeth added. “As far as I'm concerned, that all but proves we're going to rescue Piper and Leo.” 

Percy knew that wasn't true, he’d held Annabeth while she fretted about their friends’ safety too many times to ever think she’d take their success for granted, but he appreciated Annabeth's effort to make Hazel feel better. 

Unfortunately, it didn't work. 

“What if it's not?” Hazel asked, desperate tears pooling in her eyes. “I mean, Greeks call Poseidon Stormbringer, right? And Frank has his whole thing with fire. What if it's one of you two?” 

Annabeth frowned, clearly trying to find a link between Frank and fire, but Percy cut in before she could ask. “Then one of us gets to take out Gaia. Still a win-win in my book.” 

Hazel just looked more miserable. “But what about the next line? What if they're connected?” 

Percy's mind went blank, so Annabeth supplied it for him. “An oath to keep till final breath,” she said solemnly. 

Percy felt his mouth sour and his heart drop. “Right. That.” Then he suddenly remembered Hazel again, and he forced a smile. “Look, I know this all sounds awful, but you can't let it get to your head. There's no way to know what it means. I spent my 16th birthday with the line, ‘Hero's soul cursed blade shall reap’ breathing down my neck, and I'm still here. I won't say that this is going to be easy, but I can promise that I'm not giving up. Not on the quest, not on the crew, or Frank, or you. We'll figure it out together. That's what teams do.” 

Hazel gave him a smile that was wobbly, partially because she was about to cry, but also because she was starting to look a little extra seasick. “Okay.”

Percy grinned at her and pulled her in for a sideways hug. “Alright, now you need to get below deck. You look like you're about to barf.” 

“I am,” she confirmed, forcing herself to her feet. When she was somewhat steady, she gave him another smile. “Thanks, Percy.” 

Percy waved at her until she was gone, and when he looked at Annabeth, she had her cheek pillowed on her crossed arms. She was looking at Percy so fondly he almost wanted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming. “You did good, Percy.”

“I learned from the best.” 

She openly scoffed. “You didn't learn anything about teamwork from me.” 

“No,” Percy admitted with a casual shrug. Then he grinned at her, all of his teeth on display like a shark. “But you are a damn good liar.” 

Annabeth's jaw dropped for a moment before she started spluttering in offense and smacking every bit of Percy she could reach. Percy just laughed with his whole chest until she was laughing right along with him. “You're the worst,” she accused, eyes sparkling in mirth. 

“You love it,” Percy accused right back. “You love me.” 

She hummed softly, then leaned in to kiss him. “Every hero has her flaw,” she said against his lips. “Mine just happens to be a stupid boy who is obsessed with Lord of the Rings themed Tech Decks and only eats blue M&Ms.” 

That startled a laugh out of Percy, and he blew a raspberry right on Annabeth's mouth, just to make her squawk. “So, how are we looking time-wise?” 

“Really, really good,” Annabeth said, eyes lighting up. “Nico and I went over the directions earlier, and we're almost to Epirus. We should be reaching Greece by tomorrow, and then it's only an hour or so inland.” 

“And then we storm the world's oldest haunted house. Yippee.” Annabeth just rolled her eyes, and Percy sighed, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. His mind once again drifted off to how things had seemed odd before. Remarkably, the storm had actually calmed down with Nico below decks, but there was still something wrong. 

“Do you have a headache?” Percy blinked in shock, startled out of his thoughts, and looked at Annabeth, who was watching him, with the same frown she directed at particularly infuriating puzzles. “You're rubbing your forehead, and you've been doing it on and off since yesterday. Are you okay?” 

“I…yeah, I think so,” Percy said. He racked his brain. “I definitely don't have a headache. If anything, it's actually too quiet.” 

“‘Quiet?’” she echoed, arching her eyebrow incredulously. 

Percy chuckled. “Okay, maybe quiet's not quite the right word.” Honestly, it wasn't quiet on the Argo II. Between normal boat sounds and all of the thumping and whirring of the steampunk stuff Leo had added, plus six demigods, it got pretty loud. Besides, any room with a conscious Hedge in it would never be considered quiet. Still, though. “I don't know. It just feels like something's missing.”

“Missing?” 

“It's like when you're walking through the house and you could have sworn you had the radio on, but someone came in behind you and shut it off,” he explained. “Or if the people you live with were having a conversation and they just stopped talking and all you could hear was the silence that–” 

Percy cut himself off, jaw clicking shut and eyes going wide. He cast out a mental line and all he got back was that very same silence. “Annabeth, the fish.” 

She looked beyond baffled. “What about the fish?” 

“Every time we touch water, I can hear the fish below in my head,” he explained. “Normally I just tune it out, but right now I can't hear anything.” 

Annabeth's eyes went just as wide and she scrambled to her feet. “I'll go check the sonar. You get everyone back up here and ready to fight.” 

Percy nodded sharply and sprang to his feet, ready to bolt down below and rally the troops. He wasn't sure how whatever was coming got past security, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was, they'd taken on worse and they could handle it. Percy just had to get help. 

Unfortunately, he never got the chance. 

Percy hadn't even made it off the quarterdeck when the boat rocked so violently that he was knocked off his feet. That would have been weird enough on its own, considering he was born with preternatural sealegs, but then everything went unnaturally still. 

“Well, well, well. Percy Jackson, we meet again. My babies have some choice words for you.” 

Percy whipped his head up and gasped at the sight. “Kate!”

Immediately, the goddess flushed maroon and stomped her foot, causing her dorky pigtails to bounce around her head. “My name is Keto, and you know it! Even the uniform company got it right this time. See?” She gestured at her chest, where she had her lanyard badge dangling over her magically flowing robes, and in a bright bubble font, it said, You betta believe I’m Keto! 

“What are you doing here?” Annabeth demanded, pulling Percy to his feet. “What do you want?”

Keto narrowed her eyes at Annabeth, and Percy suddenly thought back to Atlanta and Annabeth piggybacking Keto through the sea monster exhibit, using the goddess's lanyard as a bit and reigns. “You! You awful girl, you're the one who lied and said you wanted to hear about my monster facts!” 

“If it makes you feel any better, they were actually interesting facts.” 

That obviously did not make Keto feel any better, based on the way her expression soured. Then she turned on Percy, her menacing smile back in place. “I came here to tell you that those miserable fishy heroes from–” she paused to make a few squawking and clicking sounds like a dolphin, but her accent was so bad that Percy couldn't decipher it– “came and wrecked our aquarium. All those painstaking hours spent collecting and harboring sea monsters, gone. We'll have to rebuild from scratch, and the Atlanta Parks and Rec Service only has so much budget for us. Getting the money for everything we need to do is going to require so much paperwork!” 

Percy thought about Keto's exhibits, of the Nereids listlessly playing go fish at the bottom of their too small tank, and the drugged hippocampi who half-heartedly attempted to concuss themselves rather than tolerate another moment of captivity. He clenched his fists. “The only thing I'm sorry for is the fact that I've left you alive to try it again.” 

Keto bared her teeth and Percy saw tentacles furiously writhing under the hem of her robes. “Well, since you so cruelly took my loves from me, I'm here to return the favor.” She snapped her fingers and a giant wave splashed over the side of the deck, and suddenly there was a sea nymph at her side. She had long hair that was an orangey-brown color in some places and seafoam green in others, like oxidized copper. Like most nymphs, she was slight, and her hair flowed around her like she was under water, but Percy had only ever seen one nymph look that angry, and that was Hageno back in Rome, when she tried to drown Percy, Piper, and Jason. “I'd like for you two to meet my daughter, Thoosa.” 

Thoosa clenched her fists and scowled death at Annabeth. “I know you, Annabeth Chase. Or should I call you Nobody? That is how you introduced yourself to my poor son after all.”

 Percy recoiled in shock. “Your son is Polyphemus? You mean the Cyclops? 

“Annabeth facepalmed. “Obviously. Do you even read?” 

“I read plenty, but there are a lot of names and families to remember,” he defended. “I can hardly remember who your mom is on bad days.” 

“You're ridiculous.”
 

Thoosa was obviously displeased with their banter. She stomped her foot. “I am sick and tired of you demigods always picking on my poor boy. Someone has got to pay!” 

Percy was about to say something dumb, like wondering why the 15-foot Cyclops needed his mommy to fight his battles for him, but Thoosa rushed them with a blast of salty sea air before he could open his big mouth. She crashed directly into Annabeth, knocking Percy down again, and when he got his bearings, Thoosa and Annabeth were gone. 

Percy liked to think he was a decently patient guy, and was okay with a lot of things in general. He didn't like it, but he was willing to put up with all the gods’ meddling and monster attacks. He was fine with mortals acting in ways that made Mrs. Dodds look like a saint. He could sit there and grit his teeth through just about anything. 

That patience did not extend to people who messed with his girlfriend. 

Percy whirled around on Keto, teeth bared in a furious snarl. “What did you do? Where did you take her?” 

“Oh, you don't have to worry about that, little hero,” Keto taunted. “Annabeth Chase will be perfectly safe for a long, long time.” 

Surprisingly, that didn't make Percy any happier. “Where. Is. She?” 

Keto's smile only widened. “Like I said, you don't have time for that right now. It's time for you to meet another one of your brothers.” She stuck two of her fingers in her mouth and whistled, the piercing sound echoing over the glass-still sea. Then, from near the horizon, the water rippled, the wake of something very large moving under the surface very fast. Within seconds, it was circling the boat, the sunlight glinting off its iridescent scales beneath the waves. Then it crested, and with a deafening screech, displayed its rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth. 

“What is that?” Percy demanded, gawking in shock at the massive sea serpent hissing down at him. 

“This right here is the Cetus,” Keto chirped, immediately falling into tour guide mode. “The most famous of Greek sea monsters. There are actually two, one sent by Poseidon to Aethiopia, and the other to Troy. Unfortunately, my Trojan baby was mercilessly slaughtered by some awful Roman a couple years ago, so he's still reforming in Tartarus. Also, did you know that the Cetus has 184 teeth that he can shed and regrow at will? It’s true!”

So even if Percy managed to knock out its many, many teeth, they'd just grow back. Perfect. “If that thing's from Poseidon, why can't I talk to it?” 

Keto laughed. “Silly boy, Poseidon making him doesn’t automatically guarantee his creation’s loyalty. You should know how cruel the Olympians can be, abandoning their children the way they do. The Cetus was given to me. He knows how much his mommy loves him. By now, he is far more monster than sea, I'm afraid, and you're about to learn that firsthand.” 

With a deafening cry, the Cetus attacked, shooting its massive head forward to snap Percy up in its jaws. He was seconds away from being mincemeat, but he managed to dive to the side, rolling and uncapping his pwn in one practiced motion. He slashed at the monster, but Riptide glanced uselessly off its scales. 

“Ooh, another fun fact!” Keto chirped. “Did you know that no blade can pierce the Cetus's hide? It's true!” 

There was a commotion below deck and Percy nearly let out a sigh of relief. He knew that was the sound of the rest of the crew coming to help. He wouldn’t be facing this alone for long. Once he had back up, he could–

“Not so fast!” Keto called, holding up her hand. In response, a wall of water covered the door from the lower decks. “I'm afraid this is a showing for VIPs only. You lot will have to check in with the ticket counter to see if your access pass can be upgraded.” 

Percy racked his brain. He knew the story of the Cetus, considering the original one had been killed by his namesake. Unfortunately, that Perseus had Medusa's head and a pegasus – the Pegasus – to help him. Percy hadn't managed to get his hands on another gorgon head since he gave his last one to his mom when he was eleven, and even if he could telepathically reach Blackjack from all the way out here, he doubted his loyal steed would reach him in time.

No, Percy was well and truly alone. 

As if sensing his mounting panic, the Cetus let out a shriek and surged forward, wrapping around the Argo II like a boa constrictor, and squeezing tight. Immediately, Percy could hear the wood groaning, and Festus let out a series of alarmed shrieks, uselessly blasting the monster with fire. 

Keto only laughed. 

Get it away from the ship, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Annabeth ordered. It was right. If he let the Cetus continue, it wouldn't matter if Percy ever got Annabeth back, because they would have lost their most vital weapon in the war against Gaia, and all would be lost. Suddenly, Hazel's interpretation of the prophecy was making a lot of sense. Maybe Percy was storm, and if he failed here, the world would come to a deeply unfortunate end. 

Percy furiously dismissed the thought. He told Hazel that he wasn't giving up, and he wasn't ready to make a liar of himself just yet. He had to get that thing away from the ship, and unfortunately, that left him with just one option. 

Percy leapt the railing and regretted his decision almost immediately. He could feel the way the water flooded his lungs, and it took several heartbeats for him to remember that this wasn't a bad thing. He couldn't drown, he'd known that for years. He wouldn't let Gaia, of all people, sever that tie so easily. Yet, for all his efforts, his brain still lit up in panic, terrified of the water closing in around him. 

Fortunately, Percy always found it was easier to overcome fears when he had something else to focus on, and the Cetus demanded a lot of attention. It had abandoned the ship almost immediately after Percy had, and was cutting through the water towards him with alarming speed. It had its gaping maw open, ready to dice Percy up between its many teeth, and Percy urged the water to shoot him forward. 

He led the thing on a long, winding chase, diving so deep that most people wouldn't have been able to see without light. He tried ducking through a tight circle of rocks, but the Cetus just plowed right on through, obliterating the rock instead of getting stuck. Things weren't going to plan, but at least he was giving the ship some breathing room. 

But it wasn't like he could do this forever. He didn’t get quite as wiped using his water powers as others did using their own godly abilities, but it still came at a cost. It was exhausting, and the last time he'd been underwater was in Nymphaeum where he'd almost died, so he was out of practice. In fact, he could already feel his heart pounding with exertion, and his head getting light. He needed to end this, and he needed to end it soon. 

Suddenly the water shot him straight up without his input, just in time to avoid crashing face-first into a rocky wall. The Cetus wasn't so lucky, and wound up with a big mouthful of pebbles. That crash had disoriented it, but Percy knew it wouldn't stay down for long. 

You need to be more careful, a quiet, familiar voice chided him. 

He whipped his head around, expecting to see a nymph, but there was nothing. It was just Percy, the Cetus, and miles and miles of open–

Water, that same quiet voice finished. The sea. 

Percy felt dumb. He knew that voice. He'd been hearing it his whole life. He'd heard it when he was five and learning to swim, and letting go of his mom was the scariest thing he could imagine. He'd heard it on Mount St. Helens when he needed to summon water on a volcano, and when he'd been in Alaska beyond the reach of the gods. He knew this voice like he knew the sound of his own heartbeat, because they marched in time together. 

Hello, Percy, the ocean said for what was possibly the millionth time. 

Hi, Percy finally replied. 

With that, he felt a new surge of energy. He'd always felt more alert, more at ease when he was wet, but this was that times a thousand. He could practically feel the atoms of his bones vibrating, ready to become one with the sea, but he held it back. He had a job to do right now. 

For the first time, Percy went on the attack against the Cetus, shooting forward and planting his feet between its eyes. He hit it with enough force to break his legs, but he felt them heal before he could even register the pain. The Cetus crashed down to the seafloor, but that still wasn't enough. He had to do something drastic, something reckless. Something more than a little bit stupid. 

Percy racked his brain again and thought of another son of Zeus, Hercules, though not the real one Piper and Jason met, the cartoon Disney one. He'd fought a Hydra and done something so ridiculous that Percy hadn't even considered it since becoming a hero himself. 

But right now, he needed ridiculous. 

The Cetus roared and charged, and Percy charged right back. It was like they were playing the world's most uneven game of chicken, but Percy knew there would be no losers here. 

He dove right past the Cetus's 184 teeth, and down its throat before it had time to bite. Percy was obviously much bigger than anything it was meant to swallow, so it began choking, trying to force him back up. For probably the first time in demi-god history, Percy fought to stay inside the monster's mouth, and squirmed his sword out to a semi-maneuverable position. 

Here goes nothing. 

With a war cry that was immediately met with a near-deafening shriek of pain, Percy stabbed his sword into the soft flesh of the Cetus's throat and kept pushing until he felt open water through Riptide. With a vicious yank, he ripped the sword free, pulling with it all of the surrounding water. The Cetus was immediately flooded and began to expand, pumping more and more water into it until... 

Percy suddenly found himself alone in the sea, surrounded by a cloud of gold monster dust. 

Keto was obviously not expecting Percy to survive based on the way she was lazily lounging on the quarterdeck when he returned on the back of a tidal wave. 

“I– You!” she spluttered, dropping her cocktail and the tiny live serpent inside. “What did you do to my baby?” 

“Have you tried drinking something and it goes down the wrong way? Think of that, but bigger.” 

Keto puffed up an indignant fury. “Why, you–” 

Percy was faster, though, and Riptide was sitting beneath the goddess's chin before she could say another word. “Don't even think about it,” he said, his voice as unsettlingly even as the sea behind him. “Now, you're gonna tell me what you did to Annabeth and how I can get her back.” 

Keto bared her teeth. “Foolish boy, you will never find her. No man can find her in her new prison!” 

Percy growled and pressed his sword closer to her throat. “Try me.” 

Keto didn't look nearly as scared as he wanted her to be. “You can't beat me. Not here. We're on the Mare Nostrum, demigod. Home to all manner of sea monsters. For every one of my babies you kill, another will take its place. In fact, let's try that now.” 

Percy hesitated. “Wait, what do–” 

“Too late,” Keto crowed. “My eldest daughter is here; she has answered her mother's calls. The bane of all ships approaches!” 

“What does that mean?” 

Keto didn't answer. She just grinned and snapped her fingers. As soon as she did, the boat rocked violently, knocking Percy off balance again, and as soon as she was free, Keto vanished. Percy didn't have time to worry about that and just stumbled to the railing to see what horror Keto had in mind for him next. What he saw made his heart stop. The ocean, all of the water in a half mile radius, was being sucked into a whirlpool, and at the center of that whirlpool was an ugly mouth with rotted, crooked teeth and the gnarliest set of braces in the world. 

Charybdis. 

Percy had encountered Charybdis once, back when he was twelve years old and he and Annabeth had hitched a ride with Clarice to save Grover from the Sea of Monsters. Percy hadn't been able to do anything then, relying on Tyson to get them out. But just like Blackjack and Medusa's head, Tyson wasn't here, and Percy was going to have to do this himself. 

In one smooth movement, he dropped to his knees, hand splayed over the deck, and called out to the water below, urging it to hold the ship together while Charybdis tried to tear it apart. It wasn't perfect, but the Argo II kept chugging against the whirlpool as Percy bent the water around them. Keto was right when she said the Mediterranean was the Mare Nostrum, and in more ways than she thought. Sure, it was home to all manner of monsters, but it was more than that. Our sea, the Romans had called it. The water here was old, practically steeped in myth, and that made it powerful. That's why it called out to Percy, vitalizing him, even now that he was out of it. The sea was older and more powerful than any monster it housed, and it longed to lend its strength to him. He just had to withstand it. 

There was an unpleasant gurgling sound, and the sea went still, but Percy tensed. He knew what came next, and it would be this moment that truly decided their fate. Please, he prayed, though not to his father. Get us somewhere safe. 

There was a sharp, high-pitched whistling as Charybdis spat her mouthful back up. The water slammed into the side of the Argo II, sending it spinning and careening away like a toy in a particularly zealous toddler's bath. Percy could feel the wood of the hull splintering and cracking under his hands, despite his efforts to keep it together. Festus let out a series of groans and creaks, showing his own distress, but Percy couldn't focus on that right now. 

BANG! 

He felt more than heard the engine explode. The ship bucked, but Percy held fast. They were almost out of Charybdis's range. He just had to hold on for a few more minutes. His vision was beginning to blur at the edges, and for one heart-stopping moment, he couldn't differentiate between himself, the ship, and the sea. All three had merged into a single entity, using its force of will to wield its power to hold itself together. 

Then, the sea went calm below them, and Percy knew they were away from Charybdis. But the boat was still skipping across the water at a steady but uncontrolled pace. Where are you taking us? Percy thought deliriously. 

Somewhere safe, the Mare Nostrum promised. Rest now, young hero. 

Before Percy could decide if he wanted to obey, his vision went black.