Leave it to me to befriend weird, creepy guys who speak in broken sentences.

Seriously. If you're reading this and you think, Oh, I'll never make friends with creepy dudes, trust me, eventually you will. And it all goes downhill from there—like it did for me.

When me and Bram got to our destination, we immediately felt tension in the air. Bram wanted to ditch like he always does. Instead I told him a few choice words about how satyrs are supposed to be brave and then pulled him by the hood of his jacket to the area.

"He should be inside," I ominously said, walking up to the Hecate cabin door.

Bram shivered. "Yeah, well, can I please be excused?"

Smiling, I looked straight at him. "No."

Did I mention that I could also be creepy?

I walked through the cabin door, furrowing my brows together. No one was in it, which was kind of weird—since they never kept the cabin doors open if no one was inside. Safety measures and all that, of course.

Somehow I knew that my previous statement was wrong, though. No, there wasn't anyone near the door, but there was someone near the dark corner of the cabin room, fiddling with a book—I heard pages flipping—and I advanced towards the person.

I swear I have some kind of sixth sense. Immediately I knew who was in the dim light. Coincidentally, or, not so coincidentally, he was also the person I was looking for.

"Seth," A stray piece of hair fell on my face from the bun it was usually kept in. "Looks like you're having fun."

Actually, it was more like a sadistic tea party.

Seth was sitting by some seemingly old half-coffee table, half-desk combo. In his hands was a dusty book, or manual, whatever. On the table was a set of beautifully placed china tea cups. Next to them was a petite tea kettle.

He didn't answer me, so I spoke up. "Seth—"

"Shut up," he hissed, and took a sip from the cup he was holding. "Why'd—you—let the sheep in here?"

Bram looked thoroughly offended. I, however, kneeled down, now eye level with Seth. The wrinkled, torn bandana he always wore got soaked in some of the tea. He made a hybrid between a girlish scream and a curse word, probably in ancient Greek.

Ah, creepy dudes. You never fail to disappoint me.

"What do you want?" he asked. My mind blanked out, so I waited for him to stop cleaning his bandana before answering.

"Help,"

This time, I wasn't the one smirking—it was him. He took off his bandana. It usually covered half of his face—from the middle of the bridge of his nose and down to his chin—but now it hung idly beneath it. The white, ghastly scar covering his cheeks and part of his nose absolutely scared the crap out of me, so I looked to Bram quickly. He was also looking back at me.

"Help," Seth repeated. "Help. And—you—want me to give you—something—? Perhaps you will make me get it—myself—?"

Sometimes when I'm talking to people, and I know what their motives are, I'll tell them it. I'll repeat it and I'll like to see this special look on their face. It's a mixture of guilt, anxiousness, and greed, and it makes my insides churn—in a good way, naturally. Seth was using that method on me. The closest metaphor I have is like ripping open a scab—ow, it hurts, right? But its your skin, and you know its going to hurt.

I smiled, trying to maintain my calm appearance. "Uh, not in that order, necessarily,"

Bram kicked my shin. I didn't kick him back, because inside I kind of knew I deserved it.

"What do you want?" Seth completely took off his bandana. He set it on the small hybrid table near him.

I twiddled my thumbs. "Please tell me you know about that..new thing Chiron was talking about?"

To my surprise, he laughed. It was a crooked laugh and so I didn't bother feeling happy.

"Sure," he finally answered. "I know about it. There's been some, ah, stirring in Tartarus, correct?"

Wait. What? Yeah, Bram didn't tell me that part, so I was more shocked than anything. Nervously, Bram bent down and pretended to drop something, then looking at me worriedly. "I must've left it—"

"Save it for later. You didn't tell me that. This is serious!" My voice was louder than expected and I ended up scaring my own self—I don't like yelling, but this time I allowed myself to break the rule. "So it is another Titan war. Or another giant war. And—right—after the seven just finished their last quest? No wonder Chiron's keeping it a secret!"

Bram looked so anxious that this time I felt really sorry for him. As if nothing had happened, I smoothed out my wrinkled jeans. "Look, I just.. I have to go down and see Dad."

"What?" he responded. "No, you can't. Pyrena Coraline Hicks, I know I'm your assigned satyr, but there is no way that we are going down to the Underworld."

Like I cared. My rebellious mood striked again. I ignored him, shoving past and walking briskly for the door. Seth carried on with his antics while Bram got off of the floor, but I was way past the Hecate cabin by then.

These past few months I was nothing but worried. First I got told of the war with Gaea, literally seconds after I got claimed. By that point I was done with this demigod stuff. And then this? Sorry, but no thanks.

I heard Bram calling out my name. But I didn't stop—no, I kept going, off into the woods where we played Capture-the-Flag. I didn't stop there, either. I went all the way to the end of the camp border, and I thought over my plans.

By then Bram's voice had died out and no one was around. Looking one last time around just to get a good image of my sweet, sweet Earth, I waved my hand and my powers took hold—the ground split into two (just a little, though, wouldn't want anyone knowing I was here) and I stepped aside to stand over the empty cut in the ground.

It illuminated green and white light, mixed with a bit of flame-y colors. Ah, Underworld sweet Underworld.

I jumped through.