CHAPTER 11: War Council

"So, what is this thing that we're being called to again?" Rachel asked dubiously. She had to speak very loudly in order to be heard over the loud orchestra that was playing in the large elevator. Even after spending a lot of time in the House, Reyna found herself still getting used to the many oddities that existed here.

"It's a meeting of some sort," Arthur answered. "At least, that's what Doctor Scamandros told me. It's not exactly a court session, but more of a war council, so I'm told."

"War council?" Reyna asked. "Is there a war coming?"

"Not really," Fred explained. "Every formal meeting here in the House is called a war council, for some reason."

"And we are at war," Leaf added, "against your gods."

Reyna nodded. Leaf was right, she realized. They were at war.

"But why now?" Nico asked. "Why not have this big meeting before we started capturing gods?"

"Beats me," said Suzy cheerfully. In one hand, the girl was holding a giant mug of tea, and in the other, you guessed it, a biscuit. Apparently, one could get tea and biscuits anywhere in the House, including the elevators.

The elevator continued to rise in silence for a few moments, save the orchestra. Reyna knew that the elevator ride would likely take a couple of hours, so she decided to acclimate herself with her new friends. She always found it important to connect with the people she quested with, both for the sake of cohesiveness and for the sake of decency and kindness.

"So," Reyna began, gesturing toward Arthur, Leaf, Suzy, and Fred, "you guys have never properly told me your story about your dealings with the House."

"That's a long story," said Arthur. "What would you like to know?"

"A lot of things," Reyna insisted. "For instance, why are you called the Rightful Heir?"

Arthur looked down at the floor, but smiled in a remembering way. "Basically," he said, "I inherited the seven Keys to the Kingdom of the Architect. She had put in her Will that the House would go to a mortal from the Secondary Realms, which I obviously am."

"Any mortal," said Nico, now interested. "Why you?"

Arthur's smile vanished. "It was coincidence, actually. The Will had some sort of plot to trick Mister Monday into giving up the First Key, and part of that plan was finding a mortal who was about to die." Arthur's eyes clouded over. "You see, I…I used to be an asthmatic, and I had a very bad episode that would've killed me had the Will not shown up and given me the Minute Hand of the First Key."

"So, it was all an accident," Rachel said softly. "You were just in the right place at the right time."

"Or the wrong place at the wrong time," said Arthur with a wry smile.

"You know," said Reyna, "in the Greek-Roman world, there are no accidents and coincidences. Everything is ordained by the Fates. It wasn't an accident that you were chosen, Arthur."

"And what exactly is happening to the Greek-Roman world at this moment?" Arthur said back.

Reyna had no answer to that, and the elevator returned to silence for a few moments. She had never thought about that before, what would happen to the Fates once this whole thing was over. Based on what Arthur told her, she guessed that fate itself would be destroyed, and everything would be left to random chance. She wasn't sure whether to be happy or frightened at that. On one hand, the idea of fate was scary, that everything you would do and everything that will happen to you has been preordained, but, on the other, the idea that everything is left to random chance is pretty terrifying, too.

"So, what about you?" Leaf perked up. "How'd you guys get involved in the whole god thing?"

"We're demigods," Nico replied casually. "We had no choice in the matter. The monsters come for you eventually, whether you want it or not."

"Yikes," said Fred. "Sounds like you live an active lifestyle."

"Active is a…good word to describe it," Nico replied. "I was attending a school up in Maine with my sister when we were attacked by a manticore. I was saved by Percy Jackson." Nico took a breath, and Reyna saw a great mix of emotion on Nico's face, a combination of his feelings for Percy mixed with anguish over the loss of his sister.

"Who's Percy Jackson?" Suzy asked. "He some high-flying nob in your Greek world?"

Nico chuckled. "Just a hero. A really good hero."

"You'll probably be meeting him at some point," Reyna added darkly, "and we'll be on the wrong side of him."

At that point the elevator dinged, way before Reyna was expecting it to. The doors opened onto a narrow hallway with four doors. Standing in front of the elevator was a very tall, very handsome Denizen. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and sported a cane and a grey morning coat. And his tongue, Reyna noticed, was bright silver.

"Saturday's Noon," said Arthur.

"Lord Arthur," Noon replied courteously, "and his friends. If you'll follow me, please." He then unceremoniously turned around and went through one of the doors, a door that led to a staircase. The group followed Noon one floor up, and stopped below a door in the ceiling above. "The war council will take place in here." He pulled the door down, and the group climbed up a small ladder into the room above.

The room beyond was something that took Reyna's breath away. It was surrounded on all sides by glass windows from floor to ceiling, including the ceiling, revealing a stormy, yet wondrous scene. The room itself contained numerous leather couches, green lamps, and an office desk of polished wood.

Sitting on the couches were four Denizens that even Reyna recognized by now. Grim Tuesday, Sir Thursday, Superior Saturday, and Lord Sunday were splayed out very comfortably. Other than them, the room was completely empty.

"Ah, finally," said Lord Sunday. "Now we can begin. Please, sit."

"It's my office Sunday, I'm the one that has to invite them to sit," Saturday insisted.

"Does it matter?" Grim Tuesday droned. "Let's just get this over with so I can return to the Far Reaches. I never liked it here in the Upper House."

Saturday glared at him, but Sunday ignored her and beckoned for Reyna and her friends to sit. They obliged, each taking a seat on one of the comfy couches in Saturday's office.

"Where are the other Days?" Arthur asked. "And Art, for that matter. He should be here too, no?"

"Art is with Drowned Wednesday in the Border Sea," Sunday explained. "Apparently some small issue has arisen that requires both their attention. As for Lady Friday, she is, ah, away for now. You see, we Morrow Days are only mostly cured of the sins that infected us. For instance, Grim Tuesday constructs a treasure every now and then, Thursday, while mostly calm, loses his temper on occasion, and I still hold myself to the highest standards. If it weren't so urgent, I wouldn't have burdened myself descending to this cramped, unappealing office—"

Saturday nudged Sunday in the ribs so hard, Reyna could have sworn she heard a rib crack.

"Anyway," Sunday continued irritably, "The practice of experiencing has been forbidden by the New Architect, so Friday needs to, ah, blow off steam every now and then."

"Blow off steam?" Leaf asked.

"Yes," Sunday replied hesitantly, looking very uncomfortable. "I believe Mister Monday is with her at the moment…"

Leaf and Arthur's eyes widened. "Oh," said Arthur in a small voice.

"What?" Suzy asked, clearly oblivious. "I don't understand."

"It's nothing," said Arthur quickly. "Let's move on. Why the war council."

"Well, primarily, I love war councils," said Sir Thursday. "Secondarily, as your mission is about to get a lot harder, we thought it best to meet with you and discuss strategy."

"Don't worry," Sunday added, "I haven't composed any agendas."

"Thank goodness," said Leaf and Suzy at the same time, clearly relieved for reasons Reyna did not understand.

"What do you mean the mission is about to get harder?" the praetor asked. "It's always been hard."

"True," said Saturday, "but that was before you actually succeeded in capturing two gods. By now, the gods will have probably guessed that there is someone napping gods off the Earth."

"Makes sense," said Fred. "What do you want us to do about it, though?"

"Well, for one, we should be more careful," Leaf pointed out. "If the gods know that someone is capturing them, then they'll be more on alert when we come across them."

"We might be of some use," said Reyna, indicating her, Nico, and Rachel. "If the gods see us, they'll be more relaxed. Even if they know that someone is capturing gods, they wouldn't dream that it's demigods that are doing it." Saying that sentence out loud still sent shivers down Reyna's spine, but she had long since accepted her new role.

"Very good," said Superior Saturday, "but I fear being extra cautious won't be enough."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, his face a mask of irritation. "What more can we do?"

Sir Thursday smiled. "I'm afraid that you are all acting quite narrow-mindedly. Simply capturing the gods through more cautious means doesn't cover everything. With gods disappearing left and right, do you not think that the remaining gods will send search parties to look for them?"

Reyna blanched. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "Of course they will. Demigods, most likely, though the gods might venture themselves if the situation gets truly serious."

"Yeah, okay," said Leaf, "but you guys don't seriously think they'll make it to the House, do you? As long as we bring the gods here safely, there's no risk of detection, right?"

"Not in a million years," Sunday assured. "We are merely being cautious, Miss Leaf. We Trustees have grown our own separate bad traits when we were in power, but if there was one common mistake we all made, it was that we were not cautious enough."

"What would you have us do to guarantee they won't discover the house, then?" Arthur insisted.

Saturday spread her hands. "We merely require that you cover your tracks. Up until this point, you've been using Transfer Plate to get back to the House from your missions. Transfer Plates, however, are sorcerous, and sorcery can be traced, so we ask that you not use Transfer Plates any longer."

"How do you know so much about Transfer Plates?" Suzy challenged brashly.

"I invented them," Saturday replied dryly. "The sorcerous component, anyway. The plates themselves are fashioned by Grim Tuesday. Can I continue now?"

Suzy nodded meekly, clearly bested.

Saturday cleared her throat. "That leaves three options. The Seven Dials can only transport you from the House, so that is not plausible, while there is no guarantee that the Front Door will manifest itself in whatever location you are at. That only leaved one option."

There was silence for a few moments, as everyone contemplated what the remaining option might be. Then, there was a sudden intake of breath to Reyna's left, courtesy of Arthur.

"You don't mean what I think you mean," the Rightful Heir whispered, a hint of worry in his voice.

"We do," said Sunday. "We ask that from now on you only travel to the House via the Improbable Stair."

"But that's impossible!" Arthur declared almost immediately. "You need a Key to work the Stair!"

"Which is why we are giving you this," said Sunday. Suddenly, a bright object flew from his hand toward Arthur, who caught it deftly. The object cast a golden light onto Arthur's face, revealing a look of utter shock. Reyna, along with the five others, got up to see what Sunday had given Arthur. She craned her neck, reaching hard, to see that Arthur held a small, golden key.

"The Seventh Key," Arthur whispered wondrously. "How did you get this from Art?"

"Art instructed me to give it to you, which I have done," said Sunday. "It is yours, for as long as you need it."

Arthur looked up, the look of wonder still on his face. Then he shook his head. "No, I can't," he declared. "I can't carry six people with me up the Stair. I barely made it with just Suzy!"

"You're a whole lot stronger now than you were then," was the reply, but it did not come from one of the Days. It came from Suzy, who was sitting right next to Arthur. "With the Seventh Key, I reckon you could carry the whole lot of us."

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath. "I guess I'll give it a try," he said wearily, giving Suzy a gratified smile.

"Excellent!" Grim Tuesday exclaimed. "Can I go now?"

"Not yet!" Sir Thursday chided. "We still have one more order of business to discuss."

"We do?" Sunday asked. He and Saturday seemed a bit puzzled.

"Of course we do!" Sir Thursday exclaimed, voice raised. "We still have to work out who they should go after next."

"Oh, that's right," said Saturday. "Maybe I should have drafted an agenda after all…"

"No, no, that's alright!" said Leaf. "We don't need an agenda, we can think of this on our own."

"If I may make a suggestion," Reyna interjected, "I would suggest going after Diana next, or Artemis, if you will. She is likely to be vulnerable with her brother Apollo missing."

"Or, that's made her more dangerous," Nico countered. "We should go after Demeter, I think. I don't see any harm in a grain goddess."

"Don't underestimate the power of vegetation," Lord Sunday warned.

"Seriously," Leaf agreed. "I almost got killed by an ambulatory seedpod once."

"Well, this conversation is going nowhere," Arthur muttered.

"Indeed," said an unfamiliar voice. Everyone turned their heads to take a peek at the unknown visitor, including the four present Morrow Days. Stepping through the door was a tall, muscular woman. She was covered from ankle to neck in tough steel armor that fit her as naturally as skin. She wore a war helm that seemed to radiate power and might. In one hand, the woman bore a long, sharp spear, and in the other she carried a lit torch. The only part of her body that showed was her face, and a few wisps that hinted of long, dark hair. Her face was angled, her jaw was set, and her eyes gleamed dark and hard. Everyone in the room seemed surprised by the sudden entrance, but Reyna was in utter disbelief, for she knew this woman. Standing before them, Reyna knew, was the goddess Bellona. Reyna's mother.

"It seems your military planning has gone awry," the war goddess. "Being a war goddess myself, I thought I would join in this council and assist."

Sir Thursday looked like he wanted to throw something, but Sunday seemed slightly relieved. "Very well," he said. "As you yourself are not a prisoner due to your immunity, I see no reason why you cannot assist us. Unless, that is, you seek to give us bad advice to help out your godly friends."

Bellona scoffed. "I am beyond them, and am done with them. The art of war is sacred, and the Olympians have long since soiled it. Moreover, I am eager to be free of their influence, along with the other minor gods. I believe many of them have already arrived here in this House."

"Do you believe her?" Sunday asked the rest of the room. "Should we trust her?"

Reyna stood up. "She is my mother," she announced. "I will vouch for her." Though to be honest, Reyna didn't really feel like doing so. She had never met her mother before, and the typical demigod feelings, the ones that felt angry over their parents' lack of attention, clashed with her usual, rational self. Yes, she understood that gods simply could not act like normal parents, but that did not take the pain away.

Bellona nodded proudly at her daughter and then turned back to Sunday. "Is that good enough for you?"

Sunday nodded. "Please, impart your advice onto us."

Bellona smiled. "I am a war goddess," she said. "I know not of intricate strategies and plots, but I know how to wage wars, and win them." She smiled. "If you want to kill a snake, you go for its head. If you want to win a war, you must do the same. You must go for the other side's head, their chief thinker and strategist. If you can take care of that, it leaves the other side without organization or brainpower. It renders them weak and ineffectual, and ripens them for defeat."

Bellona looked her daughter directly in the eye. "If you want to defeat the gods, you must render them a blow from which they will hardly recover. You must take out their head, and the rest will crumble."

A pit of fear and worry settled in Reyna's gut. She knew what her mother meant, and she did not like it. They weren't ready for such a challenge, they only just started. But there was no use protesting. Sunday was nodding his head in assent, and even Thursday grumbled that he thought it was a good idea. I will lead them through this, she thought to herself. I will gather my wits and use them to succeed. I will not fail my mother. She just hoped that her wits could somehow match those of Athena, the goddess of wisdom.