A/N: This chapter is rated PG-13 for monster battles comparable to those in The House of Hades. (Then again, I think that book is rated 10+, so IDK …)

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IX

WILL

They fell for an eternity.

The blackness enveloped him, numbing all his senses. Though he knew they'd taken the leap together, holding hands, Will couldn't shake the terrifying sensation of falling alone, abandoned and isolated. He closed his eyes—not that it made any difference in the inky darkness—and focused on his hands.

There it was: the faintest brush of skin against his palms.

He imagined Nico falling through the same abyss without even this tiny ounce of comfort. Whatever terror was creeping through Will now, it had to be barely a fraction of what Nico had gone through before.

Not this time, Will promised. I will change his experience.

Carefully, he laced his fingers through Nico's and gave his hand a firm, hard squeeze.

He counted his heartbeats—one, ba-boom, two, ba-boom, three, ba-boom—before slowly, but firmly, Nico squeezed right back.

The cold wind whistling past his ears took on a scalding quality. Will couldn't be sure if the air had actually turned red-hot or if the cold had just intensified to the point that his nerves were burning all the same. His body still felt chilled from the inside, but there was a stickiness to the air that seemed more compatible with heat.

Will opened his eyes. The darkness had given way to a red-tinged haze. The others slowly began to come into view: the skull ring on Nico's finger, the glint of Thalia's silver circlet, the outlines of their bodies. A landscape of jagged black peaks unfolded beneath them as they shot through a rusty sky.

The scarlet clouds stank of blood and rotten eggs. Will was reminded suddenly of a study he'd once read about mice put into a state of suspended animation by hydrogen sulphide gas. What if the smell of Tartarus froze all their cells and made them stop moving entirely?

Stop it, he told himself, shaking his head fiercely to clear his imagination.

'What?' Thalia's voice seemed to come from a hundred feet away instead of right next to him. He realised Annabeth was trying to yell something, too, but though her mouth was moving frantically, her words were lost to the wind.

Annabeth raised her voice. 'Aim—river—last time—!'

'What the hell? How?' Percy sounded panicked.

Without warning, they were sucked back into shadow, hurtling through a different sort of darkness. It was just the tiniest bit softer, a smothering blanket instead of choking fumes. Will thought their direction of travel might have changed, too—more of a horizontal than a straight drop. Then his feet hit ground in a painful thud that jarred his knees as the shadow spat them out onto a gritty surface.

The others materialised next to him, looking equally shaken by the abrupt landing. Will wasn't sure how they'd all managed to stick this landing without breaking anything until Nico appeared and collapsed immediately into an unconscious heap.

'Nico!' Percy gripped his shoulders. 'What did he do? What's wrong with him?'

Will fell to his knees and rifled through his pack. The Gatorade had to be right at the bottom, of course. He tilted the bottle to Nico's lips.

'Come on, you stubborn moron,' he muttered.

Nico's body twitched feebly. His breath came out shallow and ragged. Even when Will had emptied the whole bottle down his throat, he remained unresponsive.

Annabeth touched Will's shoulder. 'Give me the bottle.'

She came back with it a moment later, her arms scalded as if she'd plunged them into boiling water, and held it out to him. 'Make him drink this.'

The liquid inside looked like blood and smelt of burning coals. Will stared at Annabeth in disbelief. 'What—?'

'Trust me.'

Her tone broached no argument. Will tipped the bottle against Nico's lips. As soon as the first drop touched them, Nico spluttered and coughed. The colour flooded back into his ashen face.

'The Phlegethon,' Annabeth said. Her voice was raspy and hoarse. To his alarm, Will noticed that the stinging redness on her bare arms was the least of her problems; her face was puffy and covered with welts, her lips cracked and blistered. The others didn't look much better. From the way his own skin stung, Will guessed that he, too, looked like a radiation victim.

Never mind the smell; the very air of Tartarus was poison.

Annabeth pointed to the fiery river where she'd filled the bottle. It splashed down from a waterfall several hundred feet away and stretched across a broad delta, carving dark red branches throughout the plain. 'It's how we—' She swallowed hard. 'If we drink from it, it'll keep us alive.'

'You want us to drink from the River of Fire?' Thalia said dubiously. 'Isn't it supposed to be a punishment for the wicked?'

'She's right.' Nico had finally come to. He sat up and wiped his mouth, wincing. 'It keeps them alive so that they can continue suffering.'

Will's chest lightened, buoyed up by relief. 'You idiot! I told you shadow-travelling all of us would be too much for you!'

'Would you rather we all died as splats on the rocks of Tartarus?' Nico countered.

Will scowled. It was hard to argue with that. Still, he wanted to punch Nico for giving him such a scare. He settled for saying, 'Don't do it again.'

'So, um,' Percy interjected, 'you were saying we need to drink fire?'

Annabeth and Nico both nodded.

'At least we have the bottles,' Annabeth said. 'It's better than scooping the water with our hands. Do you have more? It'd be good if we can carry some with us.'

Will hesitated. All his bottles were filled with healing supplies.

'Nectar won't do us much good down here, Will.'

Reluctantly, he handed her his pack. He had to look away as Annabeth emptied out the bottles, unnerved by the idea that his trusty medical standbys might be ineffective here where they needed them most. She started to approach the Phlegethon, but Percy put a hand on her arm.

'Let me,' he said.

'Percy…'

He indicated the raw, red skin of her arm. 'It hurt you, didn't it?' he said. 'Let me take a turn.'

Percy didn't complain when he plunged his hands into the River of Fire, but Will could tell from his face that it was no refreshing dip. Sparks danced on the water's surface like fiery embers spitting from a log fire. When Percy finished, he looked like he'd been washing his hands in acid.

'Cheers,' Thalia said, raising her bottle.

Drinking the Phlegethon was like getting a blast of pepper spray straight down his throat. If he'd shot gas into his mouth and then lit a match, it would probably have hurt less. The blisters on his skin swelled and burst. Will found himself on his knees, retching uncontrollably, except nothing came up: the fire consumed everything in his belly, leaving it hollow and empty. When he finally got control of his shaking body, Nico was by his side, patting his back soothingly.

'Gods,' Thalia said weakly. She was also on all fours, recovering from her own convulsions.

Nico and Annabeth were right, though. Horrible as it was, Will could feel the strength returning to his limbs. His healing senses were coming back as well; he became aware of the vitality settling over the others like a protective cloak over their bodies.

It felt so wrong that something that hurt so bad could be healing.

'Where to, then?' Thalia asked.

Percy pulled out his compass. It spun a full circle in his palm and pointed downriver, where the Phlegethon chugged towards an ominous fog that was so many layers of grey stacked on top of one another, it might as well be a wall of tar.

They trudged along the sparse plain. Although the landscape stretched out wide and open on their right, the oppressive heat, coupled with the threatening shadow of the forbidding mountain range on their left, gave Will the feeling of being enclosed in a baking furnace. Along the way, lumps of yellowish-green liquid bubbled up from the ground: pus-filled boils on the skin of the earth. To Will's horror, when he took a closer look, there were shadowy shapes inside. Some were vaguely humanoid, others like beasts.

'Monsters,' Annabeth confirmed.

Percy looked ready to hurl. 'I had a dream about this. I was—well, I was inside one of those things.'

'You were probably seeing what the empousa saw,' Annabeth said. 'That means she's here.'

There was a sharp zip as Thalia sent an arrow straight through the bubble. It burst like a popped pimple, showering the ground in pus-like liquid. The monster inside disintegrated.

'Maybe we'll get lucky,' she commented. 'Maybe she'll still be in one of those bubbles.'

'Preferably before we get to the Dark Lands,' Annabeth muttered, glaring at the black fog in the distance.

After they had been walking for what seemed like hours—or possibly days; what did time mean in Tartarus, anyway?—they came upon the most bizarre sight Will could imagine in the pits of hell: a stone circle that made a respectful ring around a stone altar. Like everything else in Tartarus, the stones were black, but they were definitely marble, and there was an air of sacredness about the circle that didn't fit with the rest of this godforsaken place.

'The shrine of Hermes.' Annabeth's voice was full of relief. 'Come on.' She scaled the ridge overlooking the circle and ran straight up to the altar. The others followed her.

When they passed between the marble columns, the air seemed to become kinder. At any rate, it no longer stung Will's nostrils when he inhaled. He tried to imagine how a sanctuary like this could have formed in the middle of the world's most dangerous pit, but came up blank.

He decided not to question it. On the altar, a welcome sight awaited them: laid out like a banquet was a heap of mortal food—fruit, cheese, chicken legs, even large slices of good old cheesy New York pizza. Although no fire had been lit, a cloud of fragrant smoke hung over the stone. Every so often, more food would materialise in it, joining the substantial pile on the stone table. It smelt exactly like the offerings he'd burnt for his dad every meal at Camp Half-Blood. Will's stomach began rumbling in earnest.

'Is this real?' he asked, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

'Yeah, it is,' Annabeth said. 'I called Chiron before we left and asked him to help. Thank Olympus—the Hermes cabin must have been burning sacrifices all night!'

Her words jogged something in Will's memory. 'That's how you sent us a message from Tartarus during the war!'

Annabeth nodded. 'I don't know how it works, exactly, but the shrines are connected.'

'Never mind how.' Thalia reached for a thick slice of pizza. 'As long as it works.'

They sat in a circle around the altar and helped themselves to the bounty before them. For a while, they just ate in silence. All the food looked charred around the edges, but it tasted as good as if it had been freshly served at the dining pavilion of Camp Half-Blood.

Will was the first to notice when Nico stopped eating. He'd plucked a pomegranate off the altar and was turning it slowly in his hands, staring at it with hollow eyes.

Will bumped his shoulder gently. 'You okay?'

Nico put the pomegranate down. 'I don't recognise any of this,' he said. His voice sounded as thin and sharp as his Stygian blade. 'It's almost as if—as if Tartarus can have something good in it.'

'What did you see when you were here?'

It was a risky question. Will didn't know if Nico would just shutter down like he usually did when the subject came up. Yet something told him it was right to offer him an opening to share it, now that Tartarus wasn't just the private shell of Nico's previous trauma but an experience they were all sharing.

'Darkness,' Nico said after a long pause. 'I think it was caves.'

Annabeth looked towards the hulking shadows of the volcanic mountains on their left. If she had something to say about the way they stretched beneath the turbid storm front, she didn't voice it.

'There was no…' Nico looked at the pomegranate in front of him, then to the altar, still piled with food, and finally around their little circle. 'Hope.'

'Hope,' Annabeth repeated. Her eyes were misty and sad. Her next words were a surprise. 'When we were here, we had a guide. A Titan. His name was Bob.'

'I know.' Nico's voice was barely a sigh.

Thalia's eyes widened. 'Bob?' she said. 'I remember him—he was the Titan Percy dragged into the Lethe. It wiped his memory completely!'

Percy looked up sharply from his pizza. 'I—what?'

'It's okay, he was trying to kill us.'

'But you said he helped—he was a guide…?' Percy looked between Annabeth and Thalia, his face a furrow of confusion.

'He was a janitor,' Nico said. 'After he lost his memories. We called him Bob, and he cleaned my father's palace. He became a friend. And he helped you.'

But not me. The unspoken accusation simmered beneath his mild tone, unnoticed by anyone but Will. Maybe it was because he'd learned over the years how to tune into Nico's emotions—always so carefully controlled, it took even Will a combination of experience and his natural healer's senses to detect.

Percy was still struggling with the conundrum of Bob.

'He came down here to help me?'

'He jumped into Tartarus,' Annabeth confirmed. She took a deep breath and related how Bob had brought them to this very shrine, showed them a way to the heart of Tartarus, and convinced a giant, Damasen, to help them, too. As they listened, Will sensed the bitterness Nico had buried for so long clawing to the surface. Although Nico's face remained impassive, his silent scream thundered in Will's ears: I was alone. No one helped me!

Will put his hand on Nico's, but Nico twitched away from him.

'They gave us hope,' Annabeth finished. 'That even here, good exists.'

Maybe it was the savoury smoke from the burnt offerings on the altar, or the comfort of good food in Will's belly. The story didn't exactly make the bleak despair of Tartarus melt away, but it softened it somewhat.

He reached for Nico's hand again and this time his boyfriend didn't pull away.

'What happened to them? Bob and Damasen?'

Annabeth's eyes flicked nervously towards Percy. The latter was so still, he could have been a statue next to the altar.

'They stayed behind,' she said quietly. 'They gave their lives so that we could escape.'

Will's heart dropped to his stomach. So much for hope.

Annabeth drew idle patterns in the ashen ground, her eyes sad and her movements slow. 'But we—I promised I'd never forget. As long as we never let their memories fade, there's the possibility that they'll return someday.'

'Did he ever remember who he was?'

'Bob got his memory back in Tartarus,' Annabeth said. 'Don't give up hope, Percy.'

Percy nodded slowly, but Will got the feeling that it wasn't actually the memory loss he was concerned about.

Thalia cleared her throat. 'Anyway, what's our next step?'

'We still have to find the empousa,' Nico said. He turned the pomegranate over again, as if it were the secret anguish he'd unlocked and he didn't know what to do with it.

Percy's compass pointed out of the shrine, directing them mercilessly towards the incessant black fog. It was extremely close now, no more than a hundred feet away. Will's heart sank even further. He didn't know what was in there, but he didn't think it was a health spa.

They decided to rest at the shrine of Hermes for the night—or whatever passed for night here; it wasn't like Will could tell the difference under that ceaseless red sky. Maybe the empousa would move and the compass would point away from that ominous storm front.

But in the morning, the direction hadn't changed. There was nothing for it. They forged on.

Inside the fog, they had to hold hands to stay together. The visibility was better than the blackness they'd fallen through to get to Tartarus, but only just. The others were like shadowy outlines moving along with him. Their only source of light was Thalia's silver tiara, which glowed valiantly against the encroaching darkness, and the bronze compass that continued to point them further into the dark.

The air here was no longer scorching, but cool and damp, with a chill that seeped right into the pores of Will's skin. The temperature change was so drastic, it was like they'd stepped off the face of one world into another.

Like we dropped from a monster's chest down to its toes.

Will shivered, and it wasn't just from the cold.

Stop it, he told himself. He had to stop using body analogies. He really didn't want to think of this place as alive.

After a while, he noticed tree-like shapes sprouting from the ground around them. The trunks were long and smooth, ending in round knobs that formed a thick canopy over their heads. It reminded Will of the fossil forest near his home in Schoharie. He remembered visiting it with his mom years ago, before he'd gone to camp: the way the upright stumps jutted out like long bones sticking out of the ground. This forest had the same unnatural spookiness to it—another place that existed out of time.

Annabeth stopped moving, yanking Will to a sudden stop as well.

'What's wrong?' Thalia whispered.

'I recognise this,' she said. 'This forest. It was where we met—'

As if roused by her voice, the trees started to quiver. Will flashed back to the memory of a giant bat flying out from the fossil trees in Gilboa Forest—the first monster he'd ever encountered.

If there were creatures in these trees, he'd bet on Apollo's lyre that they'd make the bat look like a cute, fuzzy pet.

Nico and Thalia both drew their weapons. Will reached for his bow.

The canopy came alive with glowing red dots as a dozen eyes awakened in the trees. The first creature landed on the ground mere feet away. Her wings, jagged and bat-like, poked out of the tattered black dress she wore. She had leathery skin so wrinkled and folded she made an elephant look like a cosmetics model.

'Furies,' Nico breathed. 'But it can't be!'

'No,' said Annabeth. 'They're—'

The arai! The voice seemed to emanate from the air, reverberating off the bony tree trunks. Bringers of curses, destroyers of souls!

Another of the bat-women dropped from the trees, so close that Will could feel the whoosh of her wings.

'Thalia, no!' Annabeth cried just as Thalia let her arrow fly. It pierced the nearest arai, which dissolved immediately.

The master voice hovering over them chortled, as though the monster's death was something to be gleeful about. Yesss…a curse on you, Thalia Grace! Oh, which shall we pick?

'What in Hades?' Thalia demanded.

And then she stumbled backwards into Will. Her hands flew to her chest and came away stained red.

Blood, Will thought, staring at the sticky wetness. It oozed from her back as well, as if the arrow she had loosed had struck her straight through.

Vengeance! hissed the unified voice of the arai, as more of them dropped out of the trees. We deliver the final curses of the slain, the bitter wishes of the defeated. How many monsters have you pierced with your silvery arrows, Huntress? How many deaths are on your head?

'They're curse spirits!' Nico snarled. He swept his sword in a threatening arc. 'Stay back!'

Usually, monsters backed away at the sight of the Stygian blade. The arai, however, kept closing in, spreading themselves into a ring around them.

'How do we fight them off?' Percy yelled. He had drawn his own sword, too, but the celestial bronze was no more effective than Stygian iron in threatening the arai. Will grabbed Thalia, supporting her arm around his shoulder. If they had to run, she was going to need help.

'We can't!' Annabeth put Thalia's other arm around her own shoulder. 'If we kill them, we only reap curses on ourselves.'

'Well, run, then!' Thalia gasped.

They bolted through the gap in the circle of arai and dashed through the forest, Will and Annabeth supporting Thalia between them like they were running a bizarre four-legged race blindfolded. It was all they could do to dodge the bony trees. Percy and Nico slashed through the trees as they ran, clearing a path. Several black trunks thudded behind them, followed by loud crunches that Will hoped was the sound of squashed arai.

Unfortunately, he also heard clawed feet scrabbling over the fallen trees and the beat of leathery wings taking to the air. Sweet Apollo, how could he have forgotten that those things could fly?

The quality of the darkness changed abruptly, like they'd emerged into a clearing. The air was thinner, as though bereft of the moisture of foliage.

'Stop!' Nico yelled.

Will, Annabeth, and Thalia skidded to a halt. His foot dislodged a pile of gravel, which flew off in a whoosh—right over the edge of a cliff.

The arai emerged from the forest to form a curved wall of demons backing them up against the cliff edge. They laughed as they tightened the semi-circle.

So many curses to choose from…what shall it be?

One of them leapt at Percy with her razor-sharp claws aimed at his face. Percy's sword came up to meet her.

Before you could say the word 'curse', Annabeth had launched herself between Percy and the attacking arai, drawing her sword at the same time. It plunged straight into the arai.

Annabeth collapsed in Percy's arms. A ring of scarlet blossomed from her back.

'What did you do to her?' Percy cried.

A gift from Bella the empousa! howled the arai. Repayment for how you stabbed her in the back. Choose, demigods—a curse for each one of us you kill!

Percy staggered back as though he had been cursed as well. 'You—'

But he didn't get to finish his sentence. The demons closed in on them, claws extended.

Nico surged forward to defend them, cutting through the entire front line of arai with his Stygian iron sword. Maybe he thought his Underworld blade might offer some protection. Or maybe he knew there just wasn't any other choice.

The arai shrieked with laughter as Nico's clothes erupted into flames.

You burn, Nico di Angelo, just as the Roman legionnaire Octavian did when he was launched to his fiery death!

Will dropped to his knees, beating at the flames with his pack. 'That wasn't his fault!' he shouted.

Or will you choose another curse, son of Hades? The final moments of Bryce Lawrence, perhaps, when you unleashed the power of death on him?

The fire went out abruptly. Will had a brief glimpse of Nico's raw, blistered skin before his boyfriend's body began to fade. Beneath Will's fingers, Nico's form turned as insubstantial as black smoke, like he was crumbling away.

It was Will's worst nightmare—his greatest fear for Nico, that he would ultimately dissolve into shadow if he overreached and struck the limit of his powers.

'No, Nico, hold on!' he begged. He focused as hard as he could, channelling all the healing power he had into Nico. It helped just a little. The fading stopped. He could feel the contours of Nico's skin again, although it was still dangerously smoky around the edges.

'Bryce…' gasped Nico. 'Ghostified—him—deserve—'

'No,' Will said. Whatever curse Nico had unleashed, Will was certain he did not deserve to suffer from it.

Around them, the others had stepped forward to take on the attacking arai, and they hadn't fared much better. Thalia's body was pierced as though someone had shot an entire volley of arrows into her. Annabeth had been flung fifty feet away, where she lay bleeding from her gut, weeping and trying to crawl back towards them.

Only Percy was still standing, his celestial bronze blade glowing as it vanquished the malevolent curse spirits, none of whom seemed able to find a suitable curse to bestow.

Cursed son of Poseidon, wailed the arai. You bear the Curse of Lethe. We cannot inflict any more on top of that.

'The curse of…' Percy's voice faltered over the words.

The Lethe! The River of Forgetfulness! Your companions have doused you with its waters and it runs through your blood! They wiped your mind and soul clean!

'Wait, my—they—' Percy looked at Will and the others in bewilderment. 'They're lying, right?'

Will didn't know how to answer him. The demonic eyes of the arai seemed to glow even brighter, like blinding red laser pointers boring straight into Will's pupils.

Will you curse them, too? Curse them for what they have done to you!

'Tell me!' Percy insisted. Maybe the arai couldn't curse him, but Will was certain they'd done something to trigger that dark, crazed look in his eyes. 'Did you wipe my memory?'

'We—yes, but—'

The arai shrieked with glee. Curse them, son of Poseidon! Add to our repertoire!

Percy fell to his knees, his head in his hands. Will felt like doing the same. The arai's mad laughter was a cacophony in his ears. His head was about to explode with the sound.

But there were only the two of them left. And if Percy couldn't be cursed, he was their only hope.

Will ran to him. 'Percy, get up!' he urged. 'You need to fight them—'

Percy gave him an anguished look. 'My memory—you guys…I don't even know what's real and what's not. And if you guys lied to me—if we're all just reaping what we sowed—'

'No, we didn't!' Will promised. 'We didn't tell you everything, but it was because we were afraid we would make things worse. I can explain, but first we need to get past these demons. Come on.'

He hauled Percy back to his feet. Percy looked at him uncertainly. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle. Will took a deep breath and shot an arrow. He didn't know what would happen when he hit the arai; he couldn't think off-hand what curses he might have acquired throughout his life. Unlike Percy, he didn't have the Lethe's protection. But what else could he do?

The arrow flew straight and true, dissolving an arai, but to Will's surprise, there was no accompanying pain.

Where are your curses? shrieked the arai. Why have your enemies not cursed you?

Will's heart leapt hopefully in his chest. He had no curses!

'I'm a medic,' he snarled at the arai. 'My job is to heal, not to harm. But I definitely make an exception for demons who are hurting my friends.'

With a nod to Percy, he notched another arrow.

There had been many times before that Will had wished for greater skill in battle, to have inherited a more useful gift from his father in defeating the enemies that besieged Camp Half-Blood. He now saw the huge advantage to being a healer. When you were trying to heal people on the battlefield, they didn't tend to curse you with their dying breaths. Of course, now that he was cutting down arai, maybe that would change. Could the spirits of curses curse you, too? He guessed he was about to find out.

Percy's expression cleared and he leapt back into action, slicing through the demon spirits. Will shot an entire volley of arrows into them. Soon, they had made it through the entire pack.

But the curses the arai had already delivered didn't vanish with them. Around them, Will's friends were still dying.

Percy ran to Annabeth and dragged her back to the group. 'You're good at healing,' he said to Will. 'Can you…?'

Will had never tried anything of this level before. His magic was good for small things—cleaning wounds, repairing breaks, helping one person at a time. But he summoned all the strength he could, recalling the way he had channelled his energy into Nico earlier. He put his hands out and concentrated.

In his mind, he pictured Annabeth leading the blue team during capture the flag, the glow of sunset lighting up her confident, capable face. He pictured Thalia grinning impishly as she and her Hunters challenged the Apollo cabin at archery practice. And Nico—oh, Nico. He imagined walking hand-in-hand with Nico down the Via Praetoria while his boyfriend told him about the actual Rome, across the ocean; the way Nico's face lit up only for him, like Will was his own private sun, illuminating his shadowy features; the slow, shy smile that transformed Nico's brooding expression the first time their lips touched.

More images flooded his mind. Thoughts of Chiron and his ever-steady advice—'There is art to medicine as well as science, child'; 'Your father has gifted you; trust in your abilities'; 'Your talents are essential.' Memories of himself sitting on the front porch with his mom as she strummed the banjo and sang to him. 'Your dad could do the most amazing things with music. One day you'll learn how, too, sweet sun.'

Will drew on all this, reaching deep into his soul. He felt the healing magic surge through him and flow out through his palms, bathing them all in a gentle, golden glow. A lilting song whispered through the trees, driving out the echoes of the arai's cackling. Dimly, he realised that it was his own voice singing an ancient hymn to Apollo.

Thalia and Annabeth's wounds closed up. Nico's skin lost its charred, smoky tinge.

It's working, Will thought in relief.

Then his vision blurred. The trees tilted alarmingly, like the entire fossil forest was turning sideways. The ground rose up to meet him.

Will collapsed next to Nico. The last thing he felt was his boyfriend's arm, warm and solid and whole again.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

A/N: As I am repeatedly mentioning, I owe a great deal to my betas for this fic, and I wanted to give supernaturally-percyjackson an extra shout-out in this chapter for her excellent suggestions for the Hermes shrine scene. She made it infinitely better so if you enjoyed it, leave a kudos for her too!