I do not own PJATO or Heroes of Olympus; they belong to the one and only Rick Riordan! However, Anne Soleil belongs to me!

Anne's POV

I fell into bed, tired from a busy day at Camp Half-Blood. Of course, the only things my cabin had done were the regular, routine stuff which was boring. Practically everyone was bustling about building the Argo II, but sadly, my cabin wasn't involved in the project. Just because we're children of Apollo doesn't mean we can't help! We can do more than just shoot arrows and spout poetry, you know!

"Lights out, Cabin Seven," Will Solace, our head counselor, called from across the room where he was settling into his bunk.

I lay back on my pillow, letting my sore muscles relax as my cabinmates turned off the lights and got into bed. My arms ached from archery class, my legs from foot racing, and my hand from accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil during arts and crafts (don't ask).

Before too long, soft snores were coming from all corners of the cabin. One of my half-sisters mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over. I closed my eyes and deepened my breathing, but sleep wouldn't come. My body was tired, but my mind was wide-awake. I rolled over to face the pictures I'd put on the wall by my bunk. My favorite was a picture of myself and Diamond, my horse back at home with my mom at the ranch I'd lived on for thirteen of my fifteen years. He was a gorgeous chestnut Quarter Horse gelding, and it made my heart ache to know I couldn't bring him to camp with me.

Hours ticked by and I looked at the time on the digital clock by Will's bed: 10:58.

Great. It was almost eleven at night and I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Grumbling, I rolled over onto my arm and almost yelped in pain. The last thing my cabin had done before dinner was scale the climbing wall. I hadn't had much of a problem climbing it, but one of my half-brothers had accidentally kicked a lava-covered pebble in my direction, which had hit my arm and left an ugly burn. Chiron had told me to run cold water on it, but he hadn't offered nectar or ambrosia, and now it stung badly. Groaning, I got up.

"Anne, is that you?" Will called softly from his bed. Jeez, he is such a light sleeper!

"I need to run more water on my burn," I whispered. "Please? It really hurts."

"Fine," he sighed, rolling over. A few seconds later I heard soft snoring. I guess he forgot that the only running water is in the shower place, across the commons area, and that we aren't supposed to be out of our cabins after lights out. No matter. I wasn't about to fall back asleep anytime soon, and I really hate lying in bed awake.

I didn't bother to put shoes on. I quietly left Cabin Seven, careful not to let the door bang shut behind me. My heart was racing excitedly. I had never been out of my cabin after lights out before! Ah, the possibilities! I could visit the pegasus stables, or spy on the Aphrodite kids and see what they looked like without their makeup on, or practice my archery a little. Nah. All too attention-attracting. And I really didn't want to be fed to the harpies if I could help it, thanks.

I was about to stroll down to the canoe lake when a sudden thought hit my mind: I could visit Bunker 9! I had been curious for days about the Argo II, and now would be a good chance to see it. I made a quick detour and grabbed my bow and quiver from the archery pavilion first; I didn't want to head through the monster-filled woods without any protection. That taken care of, I headed in the direction of the woods and just stepped underneath the cover of the trees when a sudden flicker of light, like a tiny flame, caught my eye. It was a long way away, and I shouldn't have been able to see that far, but I could.

"What is that?" I muttered to myself. "I should not be able to see something that far away. Is some god messing with my mind?"

I was about to laugh at the idea—why would a god want me to notice a little flicker of light?—when another idea struck me—what if it was a fire? A fire could easily destroy the forest and with it, all the dryads' sources of life, in one deadly swoop while everyone slept.

I couldn't take the risk. I hefted my quiver over my shoulder and tightened my grip on my bow as I jogged quickly but as silently as I could in the direction of the flame.

Leo's POV

I slammed the door of Bunker 9 in frustration. It wasn't the project that was annoying me—that was going awesome; we were going to have, as Jake Mason put it, one spankin' hot war machine—but as usual, my infuriating feelings of being the "lowly mechanic". Without me building the Argo II, we might never be able to stop Gaea, and the giants would rule, the world would explode, blah, blah, blah. But everyone was only going to remember Jason and Piper and whoever the other four demigods were. I was just the guy who built their ship.

It was probably lights out by now, I realized, looking at the dark sky. But I didn't feel like running back to my cabin just to announce that. Jake or Nyssa would probably assume that I'd be a little late back from working at the bunker tonight and just call it for me. It's nice to have minions.

I could barely see six feet in front of me now, but I still didn't feel like going back to my cabin. I wanted to be alone for a while. Sure, I was alone in Bunker 9, but while I was telling the bronze head that used to be my buddy Festus about all my problems, I started to think of him as more alive, just like he used to be. Now he was more of an organic life form to me. I needed some one-on-one Leo time.

I decided to go into the woods for a while. I could always summon fire to keep the monsters away, and of course I had my magic tool belt with me. If I needed a weapon, that thing had my back. As long as the weapon was a hammer or a wrench, that is.

As I stumbled through the undergrowth, a dryad's eyes shot daggers at me from the wood of a nearby tree. I made a face like, Sorry! and the dryad stuck out her tongue at me before melting into the bark. Jeez.

I heard the bubbling of the creek nearby and headed in that direction. I looked at the ribbon of water stretching as far as I could see through the woods. That's a lot of water. I had heard the story of the time Percy Jackson, the missing camper guy, had willed the entire creek to rise and it obeyed. That must be one seriously powerful dude. Well, he is a child of the Big Three. Not like me, I thought bitterly. I'm just a little Hephaestus mechanic. Sure, I can make stuff, but I'm not all heroic like Jason or gorgeous like Piper.

To make myself feel better, I summoned fire and watched the flames dance and curl across my palm. Fire never seems to have a care in the world. I sat down and leaned against a fallen log at the edge of the creek. Sighing tiredly, I rubbed my not-on-fire hand across my face before noticing it was covered with grease from working in the bunker. Most of it had smeared off, and I could guess where.

"Aw, man," I protested. I was about to scoop up some creek water and use it to clean my face when the hairs on the back of my neck rose, like someone was watching me. Remembering what the other campers had told me about monsters in the woods, I pulled a hammer from my tool belt and willed the flames in my palm to increase. Feeling adrenaline course through my veins, I leaped to my feet, turned around, and found myself with a nocked arrow pointed right at my face.