Hey Nico, you might be thinking. You really pass out a lot.

Yeah, but only when I shadow-travel. That stuff is tiring. Also, I like sleeping. Aside from when I have nightmares, of course. Not something that helps with a good night's sleep.

One of the fun things about passing out on quests is you never know where or who you're going to wake up with. In this case, I woke up in a campsite with the world's most beautiful ten year old. I was wearing a light grey sweatshirt with gold around the sleeves, which was a shirt I definitely did not own. I was also wearing light grey, matching trousers. I was sitting on a black sleeping bag, while Isabella was sitting on one of those portable chairs, sipping something out of a thermos. We were in the middle of a forest. How we got there, I have no clue.

"Hi," Isabella said, looking at me.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Um, I'm not actually sure," Isabella replied. "We pretty much showed up here, when you did that, um, shadowy-thing. You passed out… and, like ten minutes later, this lady with wings showed up. She made this campsite appear, and said she had something important for us to do, as soon as you woke up. Then she left, and… this is where we've been ever since."

"A lady with wings?" I asked. "What else did she look like?"

"Well, she had a spear, I think," Isabella said. "And she looked like she'd been drinking coffee for ten hours straight…"

I had a pretty good guess of who it was.

"Nike," I said. "Goddess of Victory."

With that, the goddess herself appeared. She, like Isabella said, was wielding a golden spear. A wreath was upon her plaited brown hair, and she was wearing a long, white toga. A pair of golden wings was on her back. Again, like Isabella said, she looked like she'd had way too much caffeine.

"M'lady," I bowed. I nudged Isabella, getting her to do the same thing.

"So you've woken," Nike said, very loudly, like she'd never heard of the concept of an inside voice. She turned to Isabella. "Did you like my sports drink?"

"Yeah, I guess," Isabella said, glancing at her thermos. "These shoes are nice, too, I suppose…"

I hadn't realised she was wearing new shoes. I wasn't surprised when I saw they were Nike-brand shoes. And I was somehow less surprised when I noticed I was wearing Nike shoes as well.

"Of course," Nike smiled proudly. "I make only the best shoes. Much better than Hermes'." She scoffed. Already she was reminding me of Laurel and Holly Victor, her daughters at camp. They were very competitive. And I mean very, very competitive. Sometimes, they were even scarier than me, and that's no easy feat.

"Excuse me," I interrupted. "Lady Nike, why are you here?"

"Your quest intrigues me, young demigod," Nike said. "As well as you. You have had many victories, have you not?"

I didn't know what to say to that. Gods, I was awful at accepting compliments. Probably because I wasn't used to it.

"I will offer you a gift if you help me with a favour," Nike said. "A gift I believe you will find very useful."

"A favour," I repeated.

"Indeed," Nike replied. "My Wings of Victory have been stolen by a group of rebellious monsters." She angrily scrunched up a thermos in her bare fist and threw it at a tree. I gripped the hilt of my sword in fright.

"But you're wearing them." Isabella said, kind of reading my mind.

"These are my backup ones," Nike said, shaking her head. "Nothing like the original."

Because that makes sense, I thought. If only the other gods had backup weapons.

"So, let me guess," I said. "You want us to find your wings?"

"Close," Nike replied. "Yes, I want you to find my wings. But I also want you to take a guest along for your quest."

I glanced at Isabella. Suddenly I realised how angry I was at her. I held it back, because I wasn't going to yell at a kid in front of a goddess.

"A guest," I said, my tone suddenly dry. "Who?"

"My demigod daughter," the goddess replied. "Her name is Penelope Sokolov. She does not like that Half-Blood camp, and… well, generally being around people."

"Sounds like we'll get on great." I muttered. Isabella just frowned at me.

"However, she is very determined," Nike said, shooting me a slight glare. "And wants a chance to prove herself. As entertaining as it is to see her beat up homeless people, I believe it would be better if she did something more… productive." She looked away, awkwardly, reminding me of my dad, weirdly.

"So, you want me to take your daughter on a quest with us." I said.

"That's the jist of it," Nike replied. "And, if you could convince her to go to the Half-Blood camp, that would be wonderful, too."

Sounds like Penelope's got issues, I thought. Can't blame her.

"What about her mortal family?" Isabella asked. "Are they dead, too?"

I shot her a look, like, you can't just ask about people's mortal families!

"Her father lives in Russia," Nike replied. "She… ran away."

"More like she flew away," Isabella commented. "You can't run from Russia to here. That's dumb."

"Isabella." I grumbled. She blushed and looked at her shoes.

"She will help you find my wings," Nike said, as if she hadn't heard Isabella. "You will need her."

"Where is she?" I asked.

Nike pointed East. "Head that way, until you see a large street. She will be near a cafe with a bright red roof, and lots of dandelions surrounding it. It won't be hard to miss."

"Yuck," Isabella cringed. "I hate dandelions."

The stupid ADHD part of my brain wondered why.

"Cafe with a red roof and dandelions," I said. "Got it. Is that all?"

"Meet me by the central square's fountain by evening with the wings," Nike said. "You will know where it is."

Then she disappeared.

"So," I said, turning to Isabella. "Why do you hate dandelions?"

"Allergies," Isabella replied. "Last time I touched a dandelion I had to go to hospital."

"Ouch," I winced. "Let's keep away from the dandelions, then."

Isabella chuckled lightly, then started frowning.

"Sorry, Nico," she said, sighing sadly. "Sorry about… getting… kidnapped. And trying to summon my dad from the dead. And other stupid things."

"Look, just don't do it again," I said, crossing my arms like some kind of parent. "If you die, I'm dead too. Whoever your godly parent is will kill me. And then all the Olympians will too."

"Wait…" Isabella stared at me. "If I kill you, will your dad kill me?"

"Well," I frowned. "He won't like you very much, that's for sure. You won't have a happy afterlife. I mean, if you want to decrease your life expectancy by about 10000%, you're welcome to try."

"You said try," Isabella said.

"Yeah," I replied, almost smirking. "Murder isn't as easy as it looks."

"You're creepy." Isabella said, flinching.

"I get that a lot," I said. "Don't worry, I'm not a psychotic killer. I just hang around with dead people and my overprotective boyfriend."

Isabella just laughed at that. That made me feel… a bit better, despite everything.

I only hoped the girl we were going to meet was… tolerable.