Percy opened his eyes quickly, searching around him rapidly. He was standing in the middle of a large pavilion, similar to the dining hall at camp. The building he was in, however, was easily three times as large as the hall, and was clear of any furniture. Percy looked outside of the pavilion, and was shocked to discover that he was underwater. The windows were a wall of light blue, and pale sand extended in every direction. A large sandstone castle was placed on a hill a few miles away, lights glowing from its many windows.

Percy stepped forward cautiously, unsure of what had happened. He unlatched his necklace, noticing that the seashell was now brightly colored and beautifully ornamented. He wielded Riptide defensively as he moved carefully forward.

"Hello?" he called out warily. "Is anyone here?" A stingray floated above him, uncaring of his predicament.

"Percy." A kind voice sounded from behind him, making Percy whirl around in surprise. The man in front of him was wearing a deep-blue navy uniform with golden trimming and several medals along his lapel. His tricorn was imprinted with the picture of a golden trident and was lined with shining seashells. Percy had seen his outfit on high-ranking naval officers when they had landed at London, though most of them hadn't looked half as imposing as this man.

The man looked at Percy fondly, smiling as he stepped towards him. Percy raised his sword as he approached. "Who are you?"

The man looked genuinely hurt at Percy's response. "There's no need for that. You're safe, I promise. Look." He moved to grab Percy's shoulder, but his hand went through it as if Percy wasn't there. "You're only dreaming. I just wanted to speak to you."

"Who are you?" Percy asked again. "What's happening?"

He looked suddenly embarrassed. "Well, that's a bit…" He raised his arms welcomingly. "Hello, son."

Percy remained still, face slack. "You're…Poseidon?" Now that he thought of it, the man in front of him had the same eyes as Percy, as well as the same black hair. "My father."

Poseidon chuckled uneasily. "Surprise."

Percy reached forward and attempted to punch Poseidon in the face. His fist passed through the god, however, and he stumbled through Poseidon.

Poseidon turned to face him. "I suppose I deserved that."

"Where the hell were you?" Percy growled. "All these years, and you decide to show up now?"

Poseidon raised his hands placatingly. "I understand you're upset. Of course you are-"

"Damn right I'm upset! You left us, alone! You let Ma stay with…with-" He spluttered to a stop, too angry to form coherent sentences. "And her hand! You…"

"I was truly sorry to hear about your mother-"

"Oh, you're sorry! Well, that just solves everything, doesn't it!"

Poseidon sighed, looking down at the floor. "I know you have no reason to forgive me. And I don't expect you to. I just wanted to speak with you, to explain what happened."

Percy crossed his arms, furious. "Explain."

Poseidon sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sally—your mother—she was…wonderful. I was in New York for some naval inspections, and I saw her, and…" He shrugged, smiling wistfully. "I fell. Hard. What can I say? The gods can have…mortal tendencies at times." He cleared his throat awkwardly, adjusting his hat. "And a while later, you were born. And I was so happy."

"Then why didn't you stay? Why did you leave?"

"The gods are tied to the location of Olympus, which has been in London for a while now. I can't stay in the colonies for longer than a few months at a time: I get pulled back. I didn't want to leave you, or your mother-"

"But she moved to London when I was born, because everyone had abandoned her for conceiving a bastard child. We were right here, hoping you would come back to us, but you never came!"

Poseidon opened his mouth as if to argue back, but closed it again. Percy continued ranting, waving his arms wildly. "And the Poseidon cabin at camp! You have over a dozen illegitimate children that you've abandoned! Did all of them get an apology dream?"

His father gave him a wounded look. "I know there is no defending what I've done. You have every right to despise me. I only wanted you to know the whole truth."

Poseidon's pitiful expression softened the edges of Percy's anger, but he was still fuming. "Well. You've said what you wanted to say. Can I leave now?"

"Not yet." Poseidon made a sour face, as if he was dreading what he was about to say. "It's about your quest."

"What about it?"

"Well, first of all, I want to say that I am so proud of you. That fight with Eurynomos? That was brilliant! You're a natural! Your plan for the Ceramici may not have been your best work, but you held your ground, and it worked out in the end."

"You've been watching me the whole time?" Percy was shocked. He remembered his personal conversation in Aphrodite's temple and felt his face heat up.

"Of course! What you've done, it's incredible! And with no training, either!" Poseidon was grinning broadly, enthused by his son's success. "You've been putting my sword to good use."

"Your sword?" Percy looked at Riptide in surprise.

"Yes, my sword. I apologize about the misunderstanding with that girl—Mary? I would have preferred to give it to you myself, but you can understand why I couldn't just show up to your front door."

"You gave her the sword," Percy said softly. Mary had said she was handed the sword by a strange man in a suit, but he never thought…

"I wanted to give you something, just a small start in repaying my debt to you. And I obviously chose correctly." He smiled at Percy.

Percy felt proud of his father's praise, but Poseidon looked as if he had something else to say. "Is that all?"

Poseidon's smile melted away. "No. There's something I need to ask of you." He took off his tricorn, holding it in his hands. Underneath, his hair was as messy as Percy's. He took a deep breath before speaking. "I know you are trying to bring the sword to the colonists. Athena, for some reason, has taken a liking to the revolutionaries, enough to support their independence. Personally, I believe it would be in the best interest of everyone if the situation was…resolved in an agreeable manner."

"You want the Americans to lose," Percy said flatly.

"What I want is for both parties to reconcile their differences in a way that leaves everyone happy. Just because the king is a bit…out there doesn't mean we should throw away centuries of cooperation and trust." He smiled, a bit proud of himself. "Now, I don't know if you've noticed, but the British are pretty good at the whole naval business. I have considerable clout in the government, and I can promise lenient treatment towards the colonies if they return to the fold. All I want you to do is ensure that the sword finds its way into the hands of the British when it gets to the colonies."

"You want me to betray my friends?"

"Of course not! I just want you to…divert the outcome of your quest. I promise you, I will protect all of you from Athena's anger. You have my word on that."

"And why would I help you?"

"I understand that I have done nothing to warrant your assistance. If you won't do it for me, do it for your country. Think of the suffering and death that would come from a prolonged war. If the British get the sword, this affair will be over with minimal casualties. Believe me, the other gods are not as concerned with the lives of mortals." Poseidon stepped forward, and Percy jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I know I have not been as good a father as I should have. If you do this for me, I'll…I'll make an effort to remedy that."

"And what, we'll be a happy family?" Percy asked harshly. "I shouldn't have to earn your love." He pointed at Poseidon angrily. "Is that why you chose me to go on this quest? So I'd be your spy?"

"I wouldn't call it that-"

"The first time you've talked to me in my life, and it's because you want something. You don't give a damn about me, do you?"

"Percy-"

"You know, I'm sure Athena would love to know what you're planning. What's stopping me from going straight to her and telling her what you're up to?"

"Because I am your father, and you will do as I say!" A sudden rage took Poseidon as he roared this, pointing back at him. Beneath Percy's feet, he felt the ground shake slightly. "I have been trying to treat you as an equal, but at some point I demand respect. I am a god, Percy. You will not speak to me in such a manner."

"Or what?" Percy spat. "You need me for the sword: you can't do anything to me."

Poseidon roared in frustration, causing another tremor in the earth. "You…" He held his forehead, shaking his head. "By Olympus, you're as stubborn as I am."

Percy remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Poseidon calmed down quickly, though he was still breathing heavily.

"Listen to me. All I ask is that you think about it."

Percy crossed his arms. "Fine; I'll think about it. Can I go back to my friends now?"

Poseidon gave him a sad look, but nodded. "Of course. It was a great pleasure to speak to you." He stepped back slowly.

"By the way, Aphrodite says hello."

Poseidon rubbed his arm, suddenly embarrassed. "Ah. You…saw her." He coughed nervously. "She…we…" He cleared his throat. "Anyways, goodbye!"

Percy blinked, and the pavilion dissolved around him into blue-green swirls. He felt himself floating in mid-air for a few seconds before he was forced back into his body, slamming against the wheel of the stagecoach as he woke up. He stood up, rubbing his head ruefully. The camp was still sleeping, the fire now merely a wisp of smoke rising from the ashes. The first tinges of dawn were touching the sky, giving Percy a small amount of light to see with.

"How was it?"

Percy looked back to see Hestia peering over the roof of the carriage, gazing at him calmly. She seemed as alert as she always was, jumping down to talk to him.

"What do you mean?" Percy asked cautiously.

"Your dream. You spoke with your father, didn't you?"

"How did you-"

"I can sense his presence on you." She cocked her head. "You're troubled."

Percy sighed. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You can tell me." Hestia looked at him warmly.

He thought for a second, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's private. Maybe some other time."

Hestia nodded, understanding. "Of course; I would hate to impose." She took his hand in both of her own. "Just some advice: you cannot change the past, but the future remains open. As much as your father has hurt you, you are still kin. There is still time to make up for past mistakes."

"Sure," Percy grumbled. Hestia smiled sadly, squeezing his hand slightly.

"It is a new day. Oh, I have something for you!" She reached for the top of the carriage, struggling due to her height. Feeling strange, Percy grabbed her by the torso and lifted Hestia up to give her access to the roof. "Oh, thank you." She presented him with a plain brown coat. "Here, I made this while I was waiting up there. You look silly with just your undershirt."

Percy examined the coat: it was simple, but obviously well-made. "You…made this? Thank you." He had felt strange walking around after Vervain had taken his coat.

Hestia nodded. "Now, ready the horses; I will wake everyone." Hestia separated from him, walking through the camp with an ethereal grace.

Percy walked over to the slumbering horses, who were none too pleased at being awoken so early. The older stallion grumbled as Percy led them to the brook to have another drink, complaining that his knees were still sore after being overused the previous day.

While the horses drank, Percy examined the stream carefully. After throwing the puddle into the cyclops' face, he had become intrigued by his ability to manipulate water. He raised his hand experimentally, focusing on the moving water before him. After straining for a few minutes and undoubtedly looking fairly strange, he felt the same pulling sensation in his chest. As he watched, the flow of the water slowed down and eventually stopped, as if an invisible wall was blocking the brook. More water pushed against his barrier as the small stream threatened to rise above its banks, and the horses looked at him in annoyance at cutting off their supply. After a few seconds, the force of the water became unbearable, and Percy was forced to let the brook continue its course.

Percy examined his hands, surprised at the amount of energy it had taken to stop the small stream. He was sweating profusely, and a small headache was pulsing in his skull. His apparent magic had shocked him as well, unused to the practice of witchcraft that had been reviled throughout his life. He slowly turned away from the brook, sitting on a large rock until the horses had finished drinking.

After they had finished, Percy led the horses back to camp, where he saw a few people stirring from their slumber. He harnessed the horses to the stagecoach, still fairly exerted from his magical experiment. As everyone got ready to set out, he took out the parchment Annabeth had given him the previous night and looked over it, mouthing the letters and their sounds as he pointed to them on the paper.

Once everyone was ready and had boarded the carriage, Percy took the reins and brought the stagecoach into motion, driving back onto the main road. Worried about the health of his horses, Percy took a slower pace than he had the day before, though he still tried to go as fast as the urgency of the situation allowed. They had rode for an hour or so when Percy heard a loud scream from the cab behind him.

Percy immediately pulled the horses to a stop when he heard the sound, eyes wide. He jumped from the driver's seat and raced around the cab, where he saw Annie kneeling on the ground, clutching Mark to her breast. The child was deathly pale and blood was dripping from his mouth. Large lumps had appeared on his neck, and black spots were running down his arms.

"It's the Great Plague!" Annie wailed. "Oh, my son!"

By this time, everyone had arrived, gasping at the disease. Thomas fell to his knees, the blood running from his face. He prayed quietly as he ran his hand through Mark's hair. Mark's grandfather was holding the other children back, who were watching wide-eyed, not fully understanding what was happening.

"Get away from him, both of you! He's contagious!" Annabeth pushed through, shouting. The couple ignored her, deaf to the world.

Percy's eyes were wide from shock. The Plague was fast-acting: he had heard of people going to sleep perfectly healthy and being dead by morning from the disease. Though he didn't know how Mark had caught the disease so quickly, he could see that the boy wasn't long from this world.

Suddenly, he felt a searing pain in his head, causing him to stumble backwards. For a second, he was terrified that he had caught the Plague as well. Then he heard a booming voice in his brain, one that he recognized as Athena's: DO NOT CROSS ME.

The pain left him as quickly as the voice did, leaving him dazed and confused. No one else had noticed his episode, so focused were they on Mark. Hestia brushed past him, nearly sliding as she rushed over to the child's side. She held her hands over Mark, her face scrunched in concentration. A warm glow emanated from her hands as she worked, sweat dripping down her face. She gasped in exhaustion, eyes glowing bright amber.

"This isn't a normal sickness," she said, breathing heavily. "He's cursed."

"God is punishing us!" Annie cried out. She grabbed her son tighter, rocking back and forth.

"Can you break the curse?" Annabeth asked urgently.

Hestia gave her a stricken look, then went back to her work silently. As she attempted to heal Mark, the glow around her hands began to increase, until her entire body was encased in a shining inferno of orange light. Neither Annie nor Thomas seemed to notice Hestia's efforts, focusing on their son.

After an interminable amount of time, Hestia sat back from Mark, wiping sweat from her brow. "There. He should be stable for now." Below her, her patient was still ghastly pale, though the lumps on his neck had receded and his breathing was noticeably easier.

Annie raised her head, seeing what Hestia had done. "What did you…how…" Her eyes became slightly unfocused as she struggled to comprehend what had happened.

"Shh." Hestia brought her hand to the woman's face. "He's fine. Everything is fine. Be at peace."

Still slightly confused, Annie nodded slowly. She brought Mark closer to herself. "My boy. Mommy's here." She was clutching her son tightly, strong enough that he was giving weak protestations of pain. Thomas put a hand on his wife's shoulder, visibly shaken.

Hestia stood up, looking very agitated. She gestured for Percy, Annabeth, and Grover, who had been watching the ordeal in shock, to step away with her.

"There was powerful magic on that boy," Hestia said anxiously. "Very powerful."

"How did this happen?" Grover asked. "Who curses a child?"

Hestia paused for a second. "Athena. Her energy is all over Mark." Annabeth gasped slightly as she heard this. "Athena has sent plagues before; I just don't know why she would do this."

"So what should we do?" Percy asked.

Hestia gave him a knowing look. "The boy is fine for now, but I wasn't able to dispel the sickness entirely. We'll need some outside help."

Percy turned to Annabeth. "Can you give him some of that food that you gave me? The…ambrosia?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Ambrosia only works on demigods. If a mortal ate it, they'd disintegrate into ashes."

He nodded. "That would be bad."

Annabeth sighed in frustration, looking very agitated. "Who do we need to find?" she asked Hestia.

Hestia frowned, concerned. "Mark needs a powerful healer to break the curse. Fortunately, I know of one near here."