A/N: I have never purposely attempted a multi-chapter story before, so who knows how this will go. Wish me luck! Also, excuse my Spanish! I felt like the language would be a big part of Reyna and Hylla's lives, but I haven't studied it for very long. I sort of cheat by using only short sentences, but if there is a grammatical issue, sorry!

Also, this chapter is more background than actual plot, meaning it's more boring. This is sort of a character-study chapter.

Perfect Hylla.

Perfect, perfect, perfect Hylla. It made her sick, how her older sister could do no wrong, how it didn't matter if she made any accomplishment because Hylla had probably already done it anyway. If she won, well then, that was to be expected, because after all, she was Hylla's sibling. If she lost, then she was a disappointment. There wasn't a way for her to come out on top.

Reyna scowled up at the sun but only got bright spots dancing across her vision as a reward. She resolved to simply kicking the surface of the pool angrily, but the little splashing sounds just sounded childish, so she stopped. What she wouldn't give to get away from her older sister. Hylla looked at her every day and saw a little kid. The spa attendants looked over her. Circe looked right through her. She was invisible until she tried to prove herself, and then everyone stepped on her for being out of place.

There wasn't even anyone at the little pool she had seated herself by. Half a dozen empty sun chairs faced the clear water, stacks of towels folded perfectly between them. Reyna would know. She had folded them, and technically she was supposed to have returned to her superior ten minutes ago. She wasn't sure how much longer she could pretend to still be folding towels. When motivated, she could do the chore in under five minutes. She just had to hope that none of the other attendants knew that.

She had been stranded on Circe's island for months. Well, stranded was perhaps not the most apt definition. She was being held against her will, but only because Hylla idolized Circe and was far too engrossed in her studies as a sorceress to think about leaving.

"We're safe, Reyna," she'd say, attempting to be convincing. "After everything that's happened, can't we just safe?"

Reyna knew better. Demigods did not get peaceful lives. Especially not daughters of Bellona. But Hylla seemed to have forgotten her heritage; she had given up learning defense and increasing her stamina for sorcery. Reyna didn't like the magic. It felt unnatural to her. It felt wrong. If she was going to fight, she'd rather use a longsword than colorful sparks.

Reyna knew that Hylla's power, like Circe's, like all of the attendants, was connected to her wand. It was a strip of light wood that looked totally and completely mundane, but without it, so was Hylla, for the most part. Not that she could do much magic, and not that it was useful.

She remembered Hylla demonstrating her newest spell three days ago. She had levitated an orange across the countertop of their tiny, shared apartment.

"You could do that by walking," Reyna had noticed.

"What if I was on the other side of the room?"

"Then you'd walk five steps farther."

Hylla had shot her an ugly look and retreated to her room.

Reyna decided that she had spent as much time as she could afford sulking by the pool. She wanted off the island, no matter what Hylla thought, and her only setback was that she didn't have a place to go or a map to guide her there. She had worked various forms of motor-propelled boats when was still in Puerto Rico, so she was confident that she could get one of the crafts docked at the ocean to work, but with no living family other than Hylla she didn't have a direction to head in.

Speaking of Hylla.

The elder daughter of Bellona was strolling up the paved main walkway, chatting amiably with the two demigods beside her. Reyna sighed in sympathy. The blonde-haired girls should be fine, and Circe would take a liking to her immediately, but the black haired boy… Reyna was against turning men into guinea pigs. Hylla appeared fine with it, but she was so different from when they had arrived that Reyna couldn't tell if it was truly her sister's opinion or Circe speaking through her.

"Remember Señor Aiza? Remember papá?" Hylla would try to convince her. "Men have never been good to us."

"What about Gomez and Juan?" Reyna would point out, remembering two of their best friends from home.

Hylla would wave her hand dismissively. That was how much memories of their home meant to her— they weighed so little in her mind that she could brush them away like feathers.

Reyna remained downcast as she trudged up the maze of walkways to the Staff Entrance. She didn't like the cobbled pathways, lined on either side with palm trees and stubby plants. The cobblestones were fake and the plants were too cultured. San Juan had nice streets and nice trees. The colorful houses added life and culture, not the impression of an American movie set. After living there for all her life, Circe's island felt like a rip off. Reyna never understood why the guests ooohed and ahhhed at the fountains and the cabanas.

Miss Becca had seen right through her, Reyna knew as soon as she entered her employer's presence. Miss Becca had never liked her. Part of it was because Reyna struggled with her name. It was English, but Reyna spoke Spanish natively, so upon meeting her Reyna had pronounced the 'b' in her name somewhere between an American b and v. It was just her language. It sounded prettier Reyna's way, anyway, but Miss Becca hadn't liked it. So she had switched to calling her Miss Rebecca, but Miss Becca didn't like that, either. She had, to Reyna's humiliation, assigned her a tutor to teach her "Proper English", while Hylla had looked on in disapproval.

Reyna was still fighting that fight.

"It does not take anyone on this good green Earth half an hour to fold six stacks of towels," Miss Becca snapped, looking annoyed and tapping her foot. She looked only about twenty-six, but people didn't seem to age on Circe's island, and Reyna had never been "impertinent" enough to ask. In Miss Becca's words.

When Reyna had first come to the spa, her payment had been "pool time", meaning that she got to swim for about an hour before the luau. It had been a meager award. Reyna much preferred the ocean to the pool, mostly because spending time floating in stagnant water had never been very appealing. Now Miss Becca didn't bother with "pool time" but with free time in general. The sloppier Reyna performed the tasks, the less free time she was allotted.

Miss Becca looked pissed enough to dock Reyna a whole hour of free time, but she was saved- surprisingly- by none other than Hylla.

Her older sister poked her head into the room and Miss Becca turned her attention to her instead. Sometimes Hylla's much greater presence worked in Reyna's favor. More often it didn't.

Hylla and Miss Becca exchanged a few quiet words before Miss Becca backed off, looking mildly disappointed. Hylla grabbed Reyna's arm and dragged her from the room, clearly excited. Reyna knew that as soon as they were out of Miss Becca's hearing range, Hylla would confide in her.

"There's a new girl," Hylla exclaimed, just when Reyna thought she'd burst.

Reyna nodded passively. "Ví." I saw.

"She's very smart," Hylla continued. "Circe adores her, and they've hardly met…"

I wish she adored me, Reyna thought grumpily to herself, but she didn't say anything.

"They're giving her a makeover now. You're going to do her hair, okay?"

Something about the way Hylla said it ticked Reyna off. She acted like she was talking to a child, speaking a little slowly and pronouncing every word carefully. She didn't want to be doing anyone's hair. She didn't want to be applying make-up or doing her nails. She wanted to learn how to fight. She wanted to run a race. She wanted to turn back time to a year ago when she and Juan had torn down the streets of San Juan toward the beach, both with every intention of beating the other.

"Yo no deseo—"

"Speak English, Reyna, we aren't in Puerto Rico anymore," Hylla reminded her impatiently. Reyna scowled. She could speak English perfectly, after four months of strict tutors, but she still preferred Spanish. She wouldn't speak it around the others, but she didn't understand why she couldn't use it in private with Hylla.

Then Hylla was shoving her through a door that opened onto a veranda and her older sister had swept away again.

Reyna pouted at the door for a second before turning to the girl seated in the middle of the veranda. It was indeed the blonde Hylla had led up earlier. She was younger than Reyna had thought; she was about her own age.

"Hey," the girl said amiably. "I'm Annabeth."

Reyna nodded but stayed silent. If there was one thing she had learned over her many months stuck on Circe's island, it was to not speak unless asked to.