Guys, I HAVE TWO HUNDRED REVIEWS! I'm so happy, you don't even know. So, I was going to say my goal was two hundred reviews before chapter fifty, but since you guys are awesome and just totally blew that away, I'm going to say I want two hundred and eighty before chapter fifty. Shouldn't be too hard, right? :)

This particular chapter was actually pretty easy to write. Icehawk, sorry if you think Nico and Reyna are OOC. This is just the way I think they'd be if they'd finally met someone that they could relate to, and that they didn't have to pretend with.

So, a brief note: You guys should totally read The Giant War, by drinkingthestarswithbob. It's (obviously) about the giant war, but skipping all the weeks before August 1, and all that. It's pretty awesome. Of course, it's also depressing and sad. Just a warning. (No offense, drinkingthestarswithbob. It's still a great fanfic).

Ten reviews again, my beautiful readers! You did wonderfully this time.

Chapter XXXVII

Reyna

The familiar chill tingles along Reyna's spine, but the trip is shorter than usual this time, and it isn't long before the shadows deposit them back into the light of the sunrise.

"Ow," Reyna murmurs, pressing a hand to her stomach. Her fingers come away sticky with blood. "Stupid hellhound." She mutters under her breath. Just before she caught hold of Nico's hand, a hellhound had raked its claws across her abdomen.

She presses her hand back against the wound to staunch the blood, and looks up.

In the distance, there's a hill with one of the tallest pine trees she's ever seen growing on its summit. Something glitters in the lowest branch, and a dragon is coiled around its base. From what Annabeth told her, that marks the entrance to Camp Half-Blood, where Reyna is supposed to bring the Athena Parthenos. But between her and there, a sea of Romans blocks her way.

Hundreds of Roman demigods, legacies, and Lares are camped right outside Camp Half-Blood. Griffins circle through the air above them, careful not to get too close to the dragon, or risk getting their feathery wings singed. Every single member of the legions is wearing armor and holding at least one weapon.

"Damn you, Octavian." Reyna says out loud, angry. "I told you to wait." Piper had told her that he was gathering the Romans to march on Camp Half-Blood, but up until now, she hadn't wanted to believe it.

"Friend of yours?" Nico asks dryly. Reyna glares at him. Then she realizes that she's still holding his hand, with some surprise.

Nico seems to realize it at the same time she does, because he jerks his hand away and grabs onto the hilt of his sword instead.

"Can we kill them?" Coach Hedge asks, chewing on the end of his club.

"No, Gleeson, we can't." She answers with a sigh, before adding under her breath, "Even as much as I'd like to."

"Well, if we can't kill them, how are we supposed to get to the camp?" The satyr asks.

Reyna glances at Nico, who's face is pale and drawn. "I don't suppose you have enough energy to shadow-travel us the rest of the way there?" She says, hating herself for asking.

"I could." He says. "But I'd rather not, because then I'd most likely pass out right away. And then I wouldn't be able to explain things to everyone." He looks over at Coach Hedge. "And I don't really trust Coach's way of explaining things."

Reyna nods. "Agreed." She almost smiles at the disgruntled look on the satyr's face, but it fades quickly when she realizes what she'll have to do. Before she can explain her idea, however, Coach Hedge gestures to her stomach.

"Shouldn't you eat some ambrosia for that, kiddo?" He asks. Reyna looks back down at her wound, with some surprise. Blood is leaking out from between her fingers. But it doesn't really hurt. She's about to dismiss it as nothing, but Nico has a much different reaction.

He mutters a wordless exclamation of surprise. "How did that happen?" He asks, already digging in his bag.

"It's nothing, Nico, I'm fine." He glares at her. She sighs. "One of the hellhounds scratched me before I grabbed your hand. But really, I'm fine."

"You call that a scratch?" It's Reyna's turn to glare. Nico continues rummaging through his backpack, oblivious. "I'd hate to see what you called a real wound."

"Nico, really, I'm..." She's about to say fine again when something catches her eye. A flutter of purple.

She turns to look down at the assembled Romans, and spots Octavian standing in the middle of it, talking to a few of the centurions. He's wearing a purple praetor's robe.

Anger rushes through her like fire, and she starts down the hill towards him, pulling her hand away from her wound, ignoring Nico and Coach Hedge calling behind her. She's so sick and tired of staying neutral, and being non-violent, and constantly keeping the peace when everyone seems determined to fight and argue and insult her. She's not going to put up with it any more, especially not from Octavian.

She walks with brisk, intentional strides, and she can feel her aura of command rise around her, never mind the fact that she knows she doesn't currently look her best.

She shoves her way among the tents, and once they see who she is, a path forms. Gasps and whispers follow her.

"It's Reyna-" "She's back!" "Did she really go to the Ancient Lands?"

Reyna ignores all of them, competely focused on getting to Octavian.

She breaks into the clearing in the middle of the camp where Octavian is, and he turns to see what the commotion is about. His mouth gapes open, and the look on his face is that of such dumbfounded shock that Reyna's anger fades just long enough for her to wish she had a camera.

"Reyna?" He gasps. He tries to summon back some semblance of decorum, but Reyna doesn't give him the chance. She marches straight up to him, raises her arm, and punches him in the nose, leaving a bloody imprint of her fist on his face, mixing her blood with his own, which is now pouring from his crooked nose like a fountain.

He clutches his broken nose, glaring at her. He straightens up and is about to open his mouth to say something, but again, Reyna doesn't give him the chance. She starts cursing at him in Latin.

She senses more than hears Nico and Coach Hedge push their way through the crowd toward her, but, wisely, they don't try to stop her tirade. Her curses grow steadily worse and more creative, until twin red spots of anger appear on Octavian's cheeks.

She pauses briefly for breath, and then growls in English, "I told you to wait, Octavian."

"And after you left, I became praetor. Or did you forget that, Reyna?" He asks, anger still blazing in his eyes.

"Oh, trust me, Octavian, I didn't forget it. But I'm back now, so you can step down." She tells him, a warning clear in her tone.

He looks her coolly up and down, some of the anger fading from his eyes, only to be replaced with smug amusement. "Well, I see your time with the Greeks has turned you into an uncultured swine, Reyna."

Several of the centurions gasp. Someone laughs. But they all fall deadly quiet at the look on Reyna's face.

"And I see your brief time as praetor had given you an even bigger head, Octavian." She says, her voice cooler than Arctic ice.

"At least I keep better company." Octavian replies, curling his lip in disgust as he looks over her shoulder. "Honestly, Reyna, a Son of Hades and a faun?"

"Satyr, actually, Octavian. And I'd watch who you insult." She warns.

He laughs. "Which one? The midget or the emo Greek who's swaying on his feet?"

Nico twists his skull ring around his finger, his dark eyes unreadable, and skeletal hands break through the ground at his feet. Those near him scramble backwards with cries of alarm. Coach Hedge hefts his club.

"Whichever one you'd like, Octavian." Reyna answers, as if nothing happened. The scrawny augur glares at her.

"So where's the famous statue, anyway?" He says finally, changing his approach. Inside, a flare of triumph burns in Reyna's heart, but outside, she keeps her face carefully expressionless.

"Are you really that blind, Octavian?" Reyna shakes her head in mock pity. "It's right in front of you, on the hill where we left it."

She watches his face carefully as he jerks his head up to look past her. His eyes widen incredulously, but he quickly hides his surprise. Others follow his gaze, and Reyna hears their exclamations of shock and surprise, and then the subsequent murmurs of awe.

"A Greek trick." Octavian announces, raising his voice so that everyone can hear him.

"Can you prove that, Octavian? Isn't that exactly what you said when the Greek oracle first approached us about the statue? And yet here I am, back from the Ancient Lands, with the Athena Parthenos."

"And by visiting the Ancient Lands, you broke one of our oldest laws! It is strictly forbidden!" Octavian exclaims, his eyes bugging out of his head a little.

Reyna gazes calmly back at him. "And yet the gods have not struck me down. It seems that they approve of my quest." Reyna knows she's taking a big risk here, daring the gods. But she continues anyway, leaning closer to Octavian. "Tell me, Octavian, would you go against the gods?"

He sputters briefly in outrage. "Of-of course not! But your argument is invalid! You can't possibly know what the gods think of your voyage to the Ancient Lands! They work in mysterious ways! For all you know, they could be waiting for us to strike you down ourselves!"

Nico speaks up for the first time, stepping forward. "Try it, and you risk the wrath of Hades himself." He says quietly.

Reyna interjects before Octavian has the chance to respond. "The point is, Octavian, fighting with the Greeks will only result in bloodshed. They're willing to negotiate for peace. So we need to be willing as well."

"You forget what they did, Reyna. They fired on New Rome!" Octavian says. He's grasping at straws, and Reyna can see that.

"Leo Valdez fired on New Rome, Octavian, while being possessed by an eidolon. The demigods at this camp had nothing to do with it."

Octavian doesn't answer. He just stands there, seething quietly.

"Stand down, Octavian." Reyna orders, standing taller, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in her abdomen. "I'm reclaiming my position as praetor. And since I've returned, you no longer have any valid reason to be filling in for me."

Reyna lets the inner sense of power and command she's always had flow out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear her skin is glowing slightly with an aura the color of fire. The crossed torch and sword burned into her arm flares with the same color.

Octavian shrinks slightly at the force of her power. He glares at her, his lips pressed together, nostrils flared in anger. He seems to be about to retort angrily, refuse her, but then he looks around at all the people watching him. His nose wrinkles slightly, as if he just caught a whiff of something sour, but Reyna can already see the capitulation in his eyes.

"Fine, Reyna." He says bitterly. "But don't think this is the end of it."

He turns to leave, but before he can disappear into the crowd, Reyna calls him back.

"The cape, Octavian." She tells him. He turns and glares mutinously at her, but unfastens the purple praetor's cape and hangs it on one of the tent poles.

Then he storms off into the crowd.

Everyone is silent. Reyna waits, somewhat anxiously, for the crowd's reaction. If they don't accept her back, there'll be trouble.

Then Dakota steps forward. "Welcome back, Reyna." He says, his words slurring slightly, as usual.

Reyna smiles at him. And the rest of the crowd bursts into cheers.

Don't worry, guys, there'll be more conflict in later chapters-and a lot of it may or may not involve Octavian getting punched again. :)