Ugh I've been working on so many stories lately and this is the only series that I consistently write in 1st person (I have another one but it faces the same problem) so I keep slipping into 3rd person over and over. I end up getting out of the characters' heads and into a more narrator perspective, but I really do want to tell this story in 1st person. I apologize for any perspective shifts when I should be one person's POV them I mention them doing something by name.

First Person: Audrey

Oh yay, I'm first! Let's do this thing; we got a lot to get through and we're just getting started.

I could tell Jason was getting sick of being old. His joints hurt, his legs shook, and as he tried to climb the hill, his lungs rattled like a box of rocks. He couldn't see his face (thank goodness) but his fingers were gnarled and bony. Bulging blue veins webbed the backs of his hands. He even had that old man smell - mothballs and chicken soup. How was that possible? He'd gone from sixteen to seventy-five in a matter of seconds, but the old man smell happened instantly, like boom . Congratulations! You stink!

"Almost there." Piper smiled at him. "You're doing great."

Easy for her to say. Piper, Emily, and Annabeth were disguised as lovely Greek serving maidens. Even in their white sleeveless gowns and laced sandals, they had no trouble navigating the rocky path. Even Kaze, who was similarly aged as Jason, still seemed to have a bounce in his step. I couldn't tell if I should be concerned or relieved that when Kaze got old he'd still be moving faster than a human ever could.

Piper's mahogany hair was pinned up in a braided spiral. Silver bracelets adorned her arms. She resembled an ancient statue of her mom, Aphrodite, which Jason found a little intimidating. Dating a beautiful girl was nerve-wracking enough. Dating a girl whose mom was the goddess of love…well, Jason was always afraid he'd do something unromantic, and Piper's mom would frown down from Mount Olympus and change him into a feral. She wasn't even debilitated between Aphrodite and Venus…

Jason glanced uphill. The summit was still a hundred yards above. "Worst idea ever." He leaned against a cedar tree and wiped his forehead. "Hazel's magic is too good. If I have to fight, I'll be useless."

"It won't come to that," Annabeth promised.

She looked uncomfortable in her serving-maiden outfit. She kept hunching her shoulders to keep the dress from slipping. Her pinned-up blonde bun had come undone in the back and her hair dangled like long spider legs. Knowing her hatred of spiders, I decided not to mention that aloud.

She couldn't possibly look worse than Rei, at least. For a girl who had managed to tame the power of the most ancient primordial beings in existence, she sure had trouble with a dress. There was a reason that she hadn't come on this mission with us, and it was because she would die within the first thirty minutes of having to struggle through looking like a servant. It was entirely possible for her to survive a dress, but it was like it was her life goal to look as awkward as possible in order to prove she wasn't suited to such contraptions. She admitted that she felt more comfortable in a tux than she did a dress. She'd worn a suit for Halloween once and though she removed the jacket, she otherwise seemed happy enough.

"We infiltrate the palace," Annabeth said. "We get the information we need and we get out."

Piper set down her amphora, a tall ceramic wine jar in which her sword was hidden. "We can rest for a second. Catch your breath, Jason."

From her waist cord hung her cornucopia - the magic horn of plenty. Tucked somewhere in the folds of her dress was her knife, Katoptris. Piper didn't look dangerous, but if the need arose, she could dual-wield Celestial bronze blades or shoot her enemies in the face with ripe mangoes.

Similarly, Emily was a daughter of Aphrodite (an adopted daughter of Aphrodite; she was actually a mind-child of Hestia - basically an artificial creation of Hestia). She was the kindest human being you'd ever meet, but she was invincible, she had been learning to wield a knife in battle, and she controlled the Hearth of Hestia, allowing her to wield healing fire, transform into fire, and of course light the way in dark places. She also had a pin called the Dove of Aphrodite, a trinket that allowed her to disguise herself and turn invisible, as well as blend into a situation by using expectations against someone. She was the best stealth agent we had, so to speak. Along with Piper, she had the powers of charmspeak and she could speak French. Cheery.

"Why stop?" Kaze muttered. He danced around the area, muttering things in his native tongue. Though he could translate at his own leisure, he preferred Japanese most of the time. "I am ready for the mission! Whoosh!" He punched the air and sent a small cyclone forward to shake the leaves on the tree.

" He seems happy," Emily noted.

"I think Azrael's been doing a little too much emotion training," I muttered.

Kaze's soul was suppressed in his current body, an artificial body made by Gaea that Kaze was forced into agreeing to be transferred into. In a way, he might've wanted that body, because his mother and Rei's father had been made into the undead reanimations who were far faster, stronger, and more ruthless than anything they could stand up to. They were fast adaptors, too. Once Kaze's speed had been enough to outrun them, but they had quickly become more powerful. Kaze had bargained with them that they would save Azrael and Emily and when he had returned, he had rescued Leo from being thrown into the sky by the ice goddess Khione. He had become less human, but Azrael and his powers as a Reaper allowed him to access the Veil as well as manipulate and destroy the souls of humans and essences of gods. He managed to bring Kaze's soul and emotions back - even if he was still in a porcelain-like body with black sclera.

Azrael hadn't come on this mission, or at least that's what we might think . Since he had control over the Veil - a layer basically where ghosts were and such - he could slip into the Veil and let time pass on the outside far faster than inside the Veil. He could move about the world and waste time at his own leisure, and he will be invisible to anyone who wasn't attuned to the Veil. I didn't trust that he wasn't watching us at any time - especially when it came to watching over Kaze.

Annabeth slung her own amphora off her shoulder. She too had a concealed sword; but even without a visible weapon, she looked deadly. Her stormy gray eyes scanned the surroundings, alert for any threat. If any dude asked Annabeth for a drink, I figured she was more likely to kick the guy in the bifurcum.

I sat down on a tree root with my amphora still across my body. With my powers to control liquids, it was easy to just make the thing weigh less than it really did. My power set had become more and more advanced, and so holding up the water with my power was less of a struggle than carrying the stuff manually.

Below us, Afales Bay glittered, the water so blue it might've been dyed with food coloring. A few hundred yards offshore, the Argo II rested at anchor. It's white sails looked no bigger than postage stamps, its ninety oars like toothpicks. I imagined our friends on deck following our progress, taking turns with Leo's spyglass, trying not to laugh as they watched Grandpa Jason hobble uphill.

"Stupid Ithaca," Jason muttered.

He supposed the island was pretty enough. A spine of forested hills twisted down its center, Chalky white slopes plunged into the sea, inlets formed rocky beaches and harbors where red-roofed houses and white stucco churches nestled against the shoreline. The hills were dotted with poppies, crocuses, and wild cherry trees. The breeze smelled of blooming myrtle. All very nice - except the temperature was about a hundred and five degrees. The air was as steamy as a Roman bathhouse.

"Kaze, can I get a breeze over here?"

I slipped my hand into a fold of my dress where I held a hidden water bottle. Along with a sword and a retracted trident in a cuff on my wrist, I usually carried a lot of water on me. I pulled out a stream of water and held it up, turning it into an ice sheet and hovering it over to Kaze. He held his hand up and controlled the winds to send a breeze through the ice to cool down the air and basically give us a nice cool fan.

It would've been easy for Jason and Kaze to control the winds and fly everyone to the top of the hill, but nooo . For the sake of stealth, we had to trudge up the hill manually. Jason was complaining most about having to struggle along as an old dude with bad knees and chicken-soup stink.

He thought about his last climb, two weeks ago, when Hazel, Kaze, and he faced the bandit Sciron on the cliffs of Croatia. At least then Jason had been at full strength. What they were about to face would be much worse than a bandit.

"You sure this is the right hill?" Jason asked. "Seems kinda…I don't know… quiet ."

Piper studied the ridgeline. Braided in her hair was a bright blue harpy feather - a souvenir from last night's attack. The feather didn't exactly go with her disguise, but Piper had earned it, defeating an entire flock of demon chicken ladies by herself while she was on duty. She downplayed the accomplishment, but I knew she felt good about it. The feather was a reminder that she wasn't the same girl she had been last winter, when they'd first arrived at Camp Half-Blood.

"The ruins are up there," Piper promised. "I saw them in Katoptris's blade. And you heard what Hazel and Azrael said. 'The biggest-'"

"'The biggest gathering of evil spirits we've ever sensed,'" Jason recalled. "Yeah, sounds awesome."

After battling through the underground temple of Hades, the last thing Jason wanted was to deal with more evil spirits. But the fate of the quest was at stake. The crew of the Argo II had a big decision to make. If we chose wrong, we would fail, and the entire world would be destroyed.

Piper's blade, Hazel's magic senses, visions from the Primordial duo, and Annabeth's instincts all agreed - the answer lay here in Ithaca, at the ancient palace of Odysseus, where a horde of evil spirits had gathered to await Gaea's orders. The plan was to sneak among them, learn what was going on, and decide the best course of action. Then get out, preferably alive.

Annabeth readjusted her golden belt. "I hope our disguises hold up. The suitors were nasty customers when they were alive. If they find out we're demigods-"

"Hazel's magic will work," Piper said.

"I can protect you!" Kaze declared. "They stand no chance!" He punched his fists, summoning small breezes.

I sighed. The suitors; a hundred of the greediest, evilest cutthroats who'd ever lived. When Odysseus, the Greek king of Ithaca, went missing after the Trojan War, this mob of B-list princes had invaded his palace and refused to leave, each one hoping to marry Queen Penelope and take over the kingdom. Odysseus managed to return in secret and slaughter them all - your basic happy homecoming. But if Piper and Azrael's visions were right, the suitors were now back, haunting the place where they'd died.

It was hard to believe we were about to visit the actual palace of Odysseus - one of the most famous Greek heroes of all time. Then again, this whole quest had been one mind-blowing event after another. Some of us had just come back from the eternal abyss of Tartarus. Given that, I decided none of us should be complaining about the trek - like Jason being an old man.

"Well…" Jason steadied himself with his walking stick. "If I look as old as I feel, my disguise must be perfect. Let's get going."

Despite the heat, Jason began to shiver. I couldn't tell if it was from his exhaustion or if it was because of his many nightmares. According to Emily, everyone had been having worse and worse nightmares since the House of Hades, and she'd been working to keep the mood light. Bless her heart, her smile did manage to warm anyone's heart despite the severity of a situation.

Sometimes Jason stood in the underground temple of Epirus, the giant Clytius looming over him, speaking in a chorus of disembodied voices: ' It took all of you together to defeat me. What will you do when the Earth Mother opens her eyes? ' Other times he found himself at the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Gaea the Earth Mother rose from the soil - a swirling figure of dirty, leaves, and stones. ' Poor child .' Her voice resonated across the landscape, shaking the bedrock under his feet. ' Your father is the first among the gods, yet you are always second to best - to your Roman comrades, to your Greek friends, even to your family. How will you prove yourself? '

His worst dream started in the courtyard of the Sonoma Wolf House. Before him stood the goddess Juno, glowing with the radiance of molten silver. ' Your life belongs to me, ' her voice thundered. ' An appeasement from Zeus. ' He knew he shouldn't look, but he couldn't close his eyes as Juno went supernova, revealing her true godly form. Pain seared Jason's mind. His body burned away in layers like an onion.

Then the scene changed. Jason was still at the Wolf House, but now he was a little boy - no more than two years old. A woman knelt before him, her lemony scent so familiar. Her features were watery and indistinct, but he knew her voice: bright and brittle, like the thinnest layer of ice over a fast stream. ' I will be back for you, dearest. I will see you soon. '

Every time Jason woke up from that nightmare, his face was beaded with sweat. His eyes stung with tears.

He wasn't the only one. I had dreams about my days hiding my demigod life from my parents. The days wondering why I was so alone, why my father had left me to hide myself from my parents while also trying to keep them safe from monsters, why Camp Half-Blood had left me alone for so long after the monsters started coming, how I'd learned I was a mistake as a daughter of Poseidon.

I relived the moment Chiron told me about my origins. I remembered my thoughts of loathing towards him, towards Camp Half-Blood, towards my father, towards the world. ' What have they ever done for you but reject you? '

I remembered my old neighbor, Mrs. Stevenson, a demigod who had died of old age, but who had given me a dagger-necklace that had probably been the only reason I'd survived the early days. I was taken back to the day she'd died, recalling my thoughts that day. She was 92 years old. ' It's a privilege for a demigod to die of old age, and at this age. '

But I was angry. She was the only one who understood, my first ally in this chaotic and unfair world I'd been born in. She knew what it meant to be alone for a long, long time, to have rejected Camp Half-Blood and survived on her own. She did not tell me her divine relation, but she implied that it no longer mattered to her. She was her own person. The one who could teach me how to live my life proudly was slipping away, and I had no choice but to smile and tell her I was happy for her.

I flashed to memories of dying, seeing Veon above me with his lance raised with the intent to kill. I remembered being stabbed, the shock, the cold, the screaming of Hades, and the deaths that warped my perception of reality as I saw death after death. I remembered staring up at Tartarus, telling myself that dying didn't mean anything, that I just needed to buy time. I remember being the last one left, the terror pooling in my stomach as I waited for an inevitable end. The destruction of the world loomed, and I was nothing but a side character set to die.

Nico di Angelo had warned us: the House of Hades would stir our worst memories, make us see things and hear things from the past. Our ghosts would become restless.

Now we were climbing to the ruins of a palace where an army of ghosts had gathered.

"Hey, it'll be fine," Emily said. She was reassuring Jason quietly. "She won't be there." She took his trembling hand and sent waves of relaxation through him. I could feel the calming aura through the air, even though Emily didn't intend to send things to anyone but Jason.

"Almost there," Annabeth announced. "Look-"

BOOM! The hillside rumbled. Somewhere over the ridge, a crowd roared in approval, like spectators in a coliseum. The sound made my skin crawl. Not long ago, we'd fought for our lives in the Roman Colosseum before a cheering ghostly audience. I wasn't anxious to repeat the experience.

"Boom!" Kaze exclaimed, throwing his hands up in excitement. He did not seem to share my sentiment.

"What was that explosion?" Jason wondered.

"Don't know," Piper said. "But it sounds like they're having fun. Let's go make some dead friends."

Naturally, the situation was worse than I expected. It wouldn't have been fun otherwise.

Peering through the olive bushes at the top of the rise, we saw what looked like an out-of-control zombie frat party. The ruins themselves weren't that impressive: a few stone walls, a weed-choked central courtyard, a dead-end stairwell chiseled into the rock. Some plywood sheets covered a pit and a metal scaffold supported a cracked archway.

But superimposed over the ruins was another layer of reality - a spectral mirage of the palace as it must have appeared in its heyday. Whitewashed stucco walls lined with balconies rose three stories high. Columned porticoes faced the central atrium, which had a huge fountain and bronze braziers. At a dozen banquet tables, ghouls laughed and ate and pushed one another around.

I had prepared for a minimum of around 100 spirits, but twice that many were milling about, chasing spectral serving girls, smashing plates and cups, and basically making a nuisance of themselves. Most looked like Lares from Camp Jupiter - transparent purple wraiths in tunics and sandals. A few revelers had decayed bodies with gray flesh, matted clumps of hair, and nasty wounds. Others seemed to be regular living mortals - some in togas, some in modern business suits or army fatigues. I even spotted one guy in a Camp Jupiter T-shirt and Roman legionnaire armor.

In the center of the atrium, a gray-skinned ghoul in a tattered Greek tunic paraded through the crowd, holding a marble bust over his head like a sports trophy. The other ghosts cheered and slapped him on the back. As the ghoul got closer, I noticed that he had an arrow in his throat, the feathered shaft sprouting from his Adam's apple. Even more disturbing: the bust he was holding…was that Zeus? It was hard to be sure. Most Greek god statues looked similar. But the bearded, glowering face reminded me very much of the giant Hippie Zeus in Cabin One at Camp Half-Blood.

"Our next offering!" the ghoul shouted, his voice buzzing from the arrow in his throat. "Let us feed the Earth Mother!"

The partyers yelled and pounded their cups. The ghoul made his way to the central fountain. The crowd parted, and I realized the fountain wasn't filled with water. From the three-foot-tall pedestal, a geyser of sand spewed upwards, arcing into an umbrella-shaped curtain of white particles before spilling into the circular basin. The ghoul heaved the marble bust into the fountain. As soon as Zeus's head passed through the shower of sand, the marble disintegrated like it was going through a wood chipper. The sand glittered gold, the color of ichor - goldy blood. Then the entire mountain rumbled with a muffled BOOM , as if belching after a meal. The dead partygoers roared with approval.

"Any more statues?" the ghoul shouted to the crowd.

"Here!"

I jumped, realizing it was Kaze who had spoken. He'd somehow appeared in the crowd with another bust (obviously a result of his speed), and he'd made a bust of another god that I didn't initially recognize on the spot. Either way, the bust didn't last long, because Kaze joined the crowd in cheering as he chucked it into the fountain which disintegrated the same way as the first. Kaze pumped his fist and stomped with a large dramatic flare as the mountain went BOOM! Kaze shouted " Boom! " along with the mountain's rumble.

The ghoul who'd tossed the first bust slapped Kaze (disguised as an older man, but far from out of shape apparently, since he still looked healthy enough to be running around freely and lifting heavy things) on the back and wrapped an arm over Kaze's shoulders, speaking to him as the crowd cheered. The ghoul and Kaze both raised another cheer in the crowd, pumping fists into the air.

"Gaining their trust," Annabeth muttered. "Well, that's one way to blend in."

"I think that was a bust of Hermes," Emily said with a small sigh. "His animosity towards his father isn't entirely gone. Seemed to work for that weird ritual though."

"No more statues, eh? Then I guess we'll have to wait for some real gods to sacrifice!" the initial ghoul shouted.

His comrades laughed and applauded as the ghoul plopped himself down at the nearest feast table with Kaze at his side, making lively conversation.

Jason clenched his walking stick. "That guy just disintegrated my dad. Who does he think he is? "

"I'm guessing that's Antinous," Annabeth said, "one of the suitors' leaders. If I remember right, it was Odysseus who shot him through the neck with that arrow."

"Charming," I commented.

Piper winced. "You'd think that would keep a guy down. What about all the others? Why are there so many?"

"I don't know," Annabeth admitted. "Newer recruits for Gaea, I guess. Some must've come back to life before we closed the Doors of Death. Some are just spirits."

"Some are ghouls." Jason jumped as a voice spoke up beside him. Azrael had appeared, staring down at the ghosts (and Kaze) with disapproval. "The ones with the gaping wounds and the gray skin, like Antinous. They are not easy to kill."

"I've fought their kind before," Jason said. He remembered a quest he'd taken for Camp Jupiter years ago in San Bernardino. "They're strong and fast and intelligent. Also, they eat human flesh."

"Fantastic," Annabeth muttered. "I don't see any option except to stick to the plan. Split up, infiltrate, find out why they're here. If things go bad-"

"We use the backup plan," Piper finished.

Honestly, I wasn't a fan of the backup plan. Before we'd left the ship, Leo had given each of us an emergency flare the size of a birthday candle. Supposedly, if they tossed one in the air, it would shoot upwards in a streak of white phosphorus, alerting the Argo II that the team was in trouble. At that point, we'd have seconds to take cover before the ship's catapults fired on our position, engulfing the palace in Greek fire and bursts of Celestial bronze shrapnel.

Not the safest plan, even if Kaze and Azrael might be able to help get us to safety so long as they weren't occupied) but at least we had the satisfaction of knowing that we could call an airstrike on this noisy mob of dead guys if the situation got dicey. Of course, that was assuming we could get away. And assuming Leo's doomsday candles didn't go off by accident - Leo's inventions sometimes did that - in which case the weather would get much hotter, with a ninety percent chance of fiery apocalypse. Not to mention if we genuinely needed them and they didn't go off - or even if they just didn't work properly and didn't cue the strike if we needed it.

"Be careful down there," Jason warned.

"Ditto," I said.

Piper and Emily crept around the left side of the ridge. Annabeth and I went to the right. Azrael jumped up and disappeared into the Veil. Jason pulled himself up with his walking stick and hobbled towards the ruins.

First Person: Kaze

I flashed back to the last time I'd plunged into a mob of evil spirits, in the House of Hades. Well, Azrael had made him miss out on that misadventure (I still wanted to kill him for that stunt, but I tolerated him because he was adorable). If it hadn't been for Frank Zhang and Nico di Angelo…

Over the past few days, I knew that Jason sacrificed a portion of a meal to Jupiter, he prayed to his dad to help Nico. I wasn't sure the gods were in any position to help, but even so, the sentiment was there. That kid had gone through so much, and yet he had volunteered for the most difficult job: transporting the Athena Parthenos statue to Camp Half-Blood. If he didn't succeed, the Roman and Greek demigods would slaughter each other. Then, no matter what happened in Greece, the Argo II would have no home to return to. At least Ane was with him. I hoped she was okay. I knew that Ane could probably handle herself, but even so, that didn't change the fact that I got anxiety wondering if she was okay. She reminded me of my sister, but she was younger and more vulnerable. For so long, Onesan had protected me. I wanted to protect her, so I suppose that was why I was intent on making sure she was well-prepared for the trip. She was going to be doing all the work protecting Nico, after all.

As Jason passed through the palace's ghostly gateway, I sent a gust of wind to warn him. A section of the mosaic floor in front of him was an illusion covering a ten-foot-deep excavation pit. He sidestepped it and continued into the courtyard.

The two levels of reality reminded him of the Titan stronghold on Mount Othrys - a disorienting maze of black marble walls that randomly melted into shadow and solidified again. At least during that fight, Jason had had a hundred legionnaires at his side. Now all he had was an old man's body, a stick, four friends in slinky dresses, and obviously me. I felt the situation was relatively equal.

Forty feet ahead, Piper moved through the crowd, smiling and filling wine glasses for the ghostly revelers. If she was afraid, she didn't show it. So far, the ghosts weren't paying her any special attention. Hazel's magic must've been working. Emily easily fit into the crowd with her Dove of Aphrodite, chatting it up with some of the revelers with a sweet smile while also not drawing any unwanted advances. She was probably getting information, at least. Audrey was floating around acting like a nymph with her water powers and serving wine with a few party tricks for flare. Over on the right, Annabeth collected empty plates and goblets. She wasn't smiling.

I remembered that Percy had stayed aboard to watch for threats from the sea (especially with Audrey going on the quest) but he hadn't liked the idea of Annabeth going on this expedition without him - especially since it would be the first time they were apart since returning from Tartarus.

"Annabeth would kill me if I suggested she needed anybody to protect her," he had said.

Jason had laughed. "Yeah, she would."

"But look after her, okay?"

Emily had squeezed his shoulder. "We'll make sure she gets back to you safely."

I wondered why Annabeth had volunteered for this mission. She could've very well stayed behind, but she insisted that she go. I doubted it was an issue with Percy. It seemed more like she was trying to prove to herself that she could manage a mission without Percy constantly by her side. She was trying to rush her recovery. It made me slightly sad.

I remembered the trauma of my death and being pulled back from the endless years in Asophdel by Gaea. I had pushed away the memories, pretended that they didn't exist. It worked for a while. But if I thought about my feelings, my past, I could just start crying and I wouldn't be able to stop. Transforming into a soul-less reanimation or whatever had certainly helped, but it had also felt empty. I hadn't conquered my feelings, I'd only forcefully pushed them away.

"IROS!" I was jolted out of my thoughts, realizing that Antinous had redirected his attention directly to Jason at the edge of the crowd. "Is that you, you old beggar?"

It seems Hazel's magic had done its work. I could feel the cool air rippling across Jason's face as the Mist subtly altered his appearance, showing the suitors what they expected to see.

"That's me!" Jason called. "Iros!"

A dozen more ghosts turned toward him. Some scowled and gripped the hilts of their glowing purple swords. Too late, Jason wondered if Iros was an enemy of theirs, but he'd already committed to the part.

He hobbled forward, putting on his best cranky old man expression. "Guess I'm late to the party. I hope you saved me some food?"

One of the ghosts sneered in disgust. "Ungrateful old panhandler. Should I kill him, Antinous?"

I could feel Jason's muscles tighten.

"Aw, come on!" I said, mimicking the accents of the men. It was so fun to do accents, honestly. "The beggar made it back from the dead, didn't he? At least give him a drink if you're gonna kill him again."

Antinous regarded Jason for a three count, then chuckled. "I'm in a good mood today. Come, Iros, join me at my table."

Jason didn't have much choice. I winked at him, but he didn't seem that much reassured. He sat across from Antinous while more ghosts crowded around, leering as if they expected to see a particularly vicious arm-wrestling contest.

Up close, Antinous's eyes were solid yellow. His lips stretched paper-thin over wolfish teeth. At first, Jason thought the ghoul's curly dark hair was disintegrating. Then he realized a steady stream of dirt was tricking from Antinous's scalp, spilling over his shoulders. Clods of mud filled the old sword gashes in the ghoul's gray skin. More dirt spilled from the base of the arrow wound in his throat. The power of Gaea was holding him together.

Antinous slid a golden goblet and a platter of food across the table. "I didn't expect to see you here, Iros. But I suppose even a beggar can sue for retribution. Drink. Eat."

Think red liquid sloshed in the goblet. On the plate sat a steaming brown lump of mystery meat. Jason's stomach was clearly rebelling. Even if ghoul food didn't kill him, his vegetarian girlfriend probably wouldn't kiss him for a month.

Notus, the South Wind, had told him: ' A wind that blows aimlessly is no good to anyone. ' Jason's entire career at Camp Jupiter had been built on careful choices. He mediated between demigods, listened to all sides of an argument, found compromises. Even when he chafed against Roman traditions, he thought before he acted. He wasn't impulsive. Notus had warned him that such hesitation would kill him. Jason had to stop deliberating and take what he wanted.

If he was an ungrateful beggar, he had to act like one.

He ripped off a chunk of meat with his fingers and stuffed it in his mouth. He guzzled some red liquid, which thankfully tasted like watered-down wine, not blood or poison. Jason fought the urge to gag, but he didn't kneel over or explode.

"Yum!" He wiped his mouth. "Now tell me about this…what did you call it? Retribution? Where do I sign up?"

The ghosts laughed. I laughed along with them, but I knew that Jason was in trouble at this rate. One pushed Jason's shoulder and he was alarmed that he could actually feel it. At Camp Jupiter, Lares had no physical substance. Apparently, these spirits did - which meant more enemies who could beat, stab, or decapitate him.

Antinous leaned forward. "Tell me, Iros, what do you have to offer? We don't need you to run messages for us like in the old days. Certainly you aren't a fighter. As I recall, Odysseus crushed your jaw and tossed you into the pigsty."

Iros…the old man who'd run messages for the suitors in exchange for scraps of food. I had been called an Iros before back when I had gone to cities trying to work to get money for presents for my sister. I'd no idea it was an insult until I'd read all the books in my sister's library on the Argo II out of boredom and had recognized the name in one of the books. Iros had been sort of like their pet homeless person. When Odysseus came home, disguised as a beggar, Iros thought the new guy was moving in on his territory. The two had started arguing…

"You made Iros fight Odysseus," I pointed out. "You bet money on it."

"Even when Odysseus took off his shirt and you saw how muscular he was…you still made me fight him!" Jason caught on. I assumed he had remembered who Iros was, being a leader guy and well-read. "You didn't care if I lived or died!"

Antinous bared his pointed teeth. "Of course I didn't care. I still don't! But you're here, so Gaea must have had a reason to allow you back into the mortal world. Tell me, why are you worthy of a share in our spoils?"

"What spoils?" Jason asked.

Antinous spread his hands. "The entire world, my friend. The first time we met here, we were only after Odysseus's land, his money, and his wife."

"Especially his wife!" A bald ghost in ragged clothes elbowed Jason in the ribs. "That Penelope was a hot little honey cake!"

I caught a glimpse of Piper serving drinks at the next table. She discreetly put her finger to her mouth in a ' gag me ' gesture, then went back to flirting with dead guys.

Antinous sneered. "Eurymachus, you whining coward. You never stood a chance with Penelope. I remember you blubbering and pleading for your life with Odysseus, blaming everything on me!"

"Lot of good it did me." Eurymachus lifted his tattered shirt, revealing an inch-wide spectral hole in the middle of his chest. "Odysseus shot me in the heart, just because I wanted to marry his wife!"

"How rude of him," I muttered, sipping some of the wine in my cup.

"At any rate…" Antinous turned to Jason. "We have gathered now for a much bigger prize. Once Gaea destroys the gods, we will divide up the remnants of the mortal world!"

"Dibs on London!" yelled a ghoul at the next table.

"Montreal!" shouted another.

"Japan!" I volunteered.

"Duluth!" another ghost yelled, which momentarily stopped the conversation as the other ghosts gave him confused looks.

Jason looked like the food was getting to him. "What about the rest of these…guests? I count at least two hundred. Half of them are new to me."

Antinous's yellow eyes gleamed. "All of them are suitors for Gaea's favor. All have claims and grievances against the gods or their pet heroes. That scoundrel over there is Hippias, former tyrant of Athens. He got deposed and sided with the Persians to attack his own countrymen. No morals whatsoever. He'd do anything for power."

"Thank you!" Hippias called.

"That rogue with the turkey leg in his mouth," Antinous continued, "that's Hasdrubal of Carthage. He has a grudge to settle with Rome."

"Mhhmm," said the Carthaginian.

"And Michael Varus-"

Jason choked. " Who? "

I glanced over by the sand fountain, where the dark-haired guy in the purple shirt and legionnaire armor turned to face us. His outline was blurred, smoky, and indistinct, so I guessed he was some form of spirit, but the legion tattoo on his forearm was clear enough: SPQR, the double-faced head of the god Janus, and six score marks for years of service. On his breastplate hung the badge of praetorship and the emblem of the Fifth Cohort.

Jason had never met Michael Varus, but I'd heard a story that the infamous praetor had died in the 1980s, losing the legion eagle in Alaska - the one Percy and the others had recovered. Varus was staring at Jason, and his sunken eyes seemed to bore right through Jason's disguise.

Antinous waved dismissively. "He's a Roman demigod. Lost his legion's eagle in…Alaska, was it? Doesn't matter. Gaea lets him hang around. He insists he has some insight into defeating Camp Jupiter. But you, Iros - you still haven't answered my question. Why should you be welcome among us?"

Varus's dead eyes had unnerved Jason. The Mist was thinning around him, reacting to his uncertainty.

Suddenly Annabeth appeared at Antinous's shoulder. "More wine, my lord?" I flicked my finger. "Oops!"

A gust of wind blew the contents of her silver pitcher right down the back of Antinous's neck.

"Gah!" The ghoul arched his spine. "Foolish girl! Who let you back from Tartarus?!"

"A Titan, my lord." Annabeth dipped her head apologetically. "May I bring you some moist towelettes? Your arrow is dripping."

"Begone!"

Annabeth caught Jason's eye - a silent message of support - then she disappeared in the crowd. I took a deep breath and whispered a message into the wind, wrapping it around the other guests and making it over to Jason to tickle a message into his ear.

" Messenger. The House of Hades… "

The ghoul was wiping himself off, giving Jason a chance to collect his thoughts. He was Iros, former messenger of the suitors. Why would he be here? Why should they accept him?

He picked up the nearest steak knife and stabbed it into the table, making the ghosts around him jump. "Why should you welcome me?" Jason growled. "Because I'm still running messages, you stupid wretches! I've just come from the House of Hades to see what you're up to!"

The last part was true at least, and it seemed to give Antinous pause. The ghoul glared at him, wine still dripping from the arrow shaft in his throat. "You expect me to believe Gaea sent you - a beggar - to check up on us?"

Jason laughed. "I was among the last to leave Epirus before the Doors of Death were closed! I saw the chamber where Clytius stood guard under a domed ceiling tiled with tombstones. I walked the jewel-and-bone floors of the Necromanteion!"

That was also true. Around the table, ghosts shifted and muttered.

"So, Antinous…" Jason jabbed a finger at the ghoul. "Maybe you should explain to me why you're worthy of Gaea's favor. All I see is a crowd of lazy, dawdling dead folks enjoying themselves and not helping the war effort. What should I tell the Earth Mother?"

I saw Piper flash him an approving smile. Then she returned her attention to a glowing purple Greek dude who was trying to make her sit on his lap. I blew a breeze, toppling another suitor into him and knocking him out of his seat. That easily began a fight that Piper could slip away from.

Antinous wrapped his hand around the steak knife Jason had impaled in the table. He pulled it free and studied the blade. "If you come from Gaea, you must know we are here under orders. Porphyrion decreed it." Antinous ran the knife blade across his palm. Instead of blood, dry dirt spilled from the cut. "You do know Porphyrion…?"

Jason struggled to keep his nausea under control. He remembered Porphyrion just fine from their battle at the Wolf House. "The giant king - green skin, forty feet tall, white eyes, hair braided with weapons. Of course I know him. He's a lot more impressive than you ."

He wisely didn't mention that the last time he'd seen the giant king, Jason had blasted him in the head with lightning. He'd apparently split a mountain in the process. Ah, good times.

For once, Antinous looked speechless, but his bald ghost friend Eurymachus put an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Now, now, friend!" Eurymachus smelled like sour wine and burning electrical wires. His ghostly touch made Jason's rib cage tingle. "I'm sure we didn't mean to question your credentials! It's just, well, if you've spoken with Porphyrion in Athens, you know why we're here. I assure you, we're doing exactly as he ordered."

Prophyrion was in Athens…Gaea had promised to pull up the gods by their roots. Chiron, the mentor at Camp Half-Blood, had assumed that meant that the giants would try to rouse the earth goddess at the original Mount Olympus, but-

"The Acropolis," Jason said. "The most ancient temples to the gods, in the middle of Athens. That's where Gaea will wake."

"Of course!" Eurymachus laughed. The wound in his chest made a popping sound, like a porpoise's blowhole. "And to get there, those meddlesome demigods will have to travel by sea, eh? They knew it's too dangerous to fly over land."

"Which means they'll have to pass this island," I said, acting smug as I swirled wine in a goblet. It was a very nice goblet. Big, shiny, practical…it was mine now.

Eurymachus nodded eagerly. He removed his arm from Jason's shoulders and dipped his finger in his wineglass. "At that point, they'll have to make a choice, eh?"

On the tabletop, he traced a coastline, red wine glowing unnaturally against the wood. He drew Greece like a misshapen hourglass - a large dangly blob for the northern mainland, then another blob below it, almost as large - the big chunk of land known as the Peloponnese. Cutting between them was a narrow line of sea - the Straits of Corinth. We hardly needed a picture. Us and the rest of the crew had spent the last day at sea studying maps.

"The most direct route," Eurymachus said, "would be due east from here, across the Straights of Corinth, but if they try to go that way-"

"Enough," Antinous snapped. "You have a loose tongue, Eurymachus."

The ghost looked offended. "I wasn't going to tell him everything! Just about the Cyclopes armies massed on either shore. And the raging storm spirits in the air. And those vicious sea monsters Keto sent to infest the waters. And of course if the ship got as far as Delphi-"

"Idiot!" Antinous lunged across the table and grabbed the ghost's wrist. A thin crust of dirt spread from the ghoul's hand, straight up Eurymachus's spectral arm.

"No!" Eurymachus yelped. "Please! I-I only meant-"

The ghost screamed as the dirt covered his body like a shell, then cracked apart, leaving nothing but a pile of dust. Eurymachus was gone. Antinous sat back and brushed off his hands. The other suitors at the table watched him in wary silence.

"Apologies, Iros." The ghoul smiled coldly. "All you need to know - the ways to Athens are well guarded, just as we promised. The demigods would either have to risk the straits, which are impossible, or sail around the entire Peloponnese, which is hardly much safer. In any event, it's unlikely they will survive long enough to make that choice. Once they reach Ithaca, we will know. We will stop them here, and Gaea will see how valuable we are. You can take that message back to Athens."

Jason was clearly spooked by Antinous's stunt. He'd never seen anything like the shell of earth that Antinous had summoned to destroy Eurymachus. He didn't want to find out if that power worked on demigods. Also, Antinous sounded confident that he could detect the Argo II. Hazel and Veon's magic seemed to be obscuring the ship so far, but there was no telling how long that would last. I wasn't sure if Onesan's deities would be impossible to hide or if they'd be useful and help with the cloaking.

At least we had the information we'd come for. Our goal was Athens. The safer route, or at least the not impossible route, was around the southern coast. Today was July 20th. We only had twelve days before Gaea planned to wake, on August 1, the ancient Feast of Hope. We should really leave while we had the chance. But then there was Delphi. It wouldn't hurt to visit the ancient site of Apollo's Oracle, maybe get a little useful insight into our personal futures, but if the place had been overrun by monsters…

Jason pushed aside his plate of cold food. "Sounds like everything is under control. For your sake, Antinous, I hope so. These demigods are resourceful. They closed the Doors of Death. We wouldn't want them sneaking past you, perhaps getting help from Delphi."

Antinous chuckled. "No risk of that. Delphi is no longer in Apollo's control."

"I - I see. And if the demigods sail the long way around the Peloponnese?"

"You worry too much. That journey is never safe for demigods, and it's much too far. Besides, Victory runs rampant in Olympia. As long as that's the case, there is no way the demigods can win this war."

My eyes narrowed in thought, but I nodded. "See? This place is properly fortified. Now off you go, Iros. There's nothing to worry about." I waved. "Get outta here. I think you just spoiled Antinous's mood."

Jason nodded. "Very well. I will report as much to King Porphyrion. Thank you for the, er, meal."

Over at the fountain, Michael Varus called, "Wait."

Jason bit back a curse. I glared over at the ghost. Dammit. We'd been trying to ignore the dead praetor, but now Varus walked over, surrounded in a hazy white aura, his deep-set eyes like sinkholes. At his side hung an Imperial gold gladius.

"You must stay," Varus said.

Antinous shot the ghost an irritated look. "What's the problem, legionnaire? If Iros wants to leave, let him. He smells bad!"

The other ghosts laughed nervously. Across the courtyard, Piper shot Jason a worried glance. A little farther away, Annabeth casually palmed a carving knife from the nearest platter of meat. Audrey had a tray full of wine. I'd lost track of where Emily was.

Varus rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. Despite the heat, his breastplate was glazed with ice. "I lost my cohort twice in Alaska - once in life, once in death to a Graecus named Percy Jackson. Still I have come here to answer Gaea's call. Do you know why?"

Jason swallowed. "Stubbornness?"

"This is a place of longing," Varus said. "All of us are drawn here, sustained not only by Gaea's power, but also by our strongest desires. Eurymachus's greed. Antinous's cruelty."

"You flatter me," the ghoul muttered.

"Hasdrubal's hatred," Varus continued. "Hippias's bitterness. Yamasatchie's rage. My ambition."

I gripped my goblet. Varus knew who I was, but because I truly was brought back by Gaea for a purpose, he listed me off as not a threat. My rage . Yes, my rage. My pain and confusion led to despair. My despair led to rage. I had love and laughs, but oh yes, I had rage . For a creature, a reanimation, that had been born with no passion from a missing or suppressed soul, a single feeling, a desire was locked into my very bones that breathed life into me. Yamasatchie .

"And you, Iros . What has drawn you here? What does a beggar most desire? Perhaps a home?"

An uncomfortable tingle started at the base of Jason's skull - the same feeling he got when a huge electrical storm was about to break.

"I should be going," he said. "Messages to carry."

Michael Varus drew his sword. "My father is Janus, the god of two faces. I am used to seeing through masks and deceptions. Do you know, Iros, why we are so sure the demigods will not pass our island undetected?"

I could almost hear the repertoire of Latin cuss words running through Jason's head. He tried to calculate how long it would take him to get out his emergency flare and fire it. Hopefully he could buy enough time for the girls to find shelter before this mob of dead guys slaughtered him. They needed milliseconds with me around, but would even milliseconds be enough?

Jason turned to Antinous. "Look, are you in charge here or not? Maybe you should muzzle your Roman."

The ghoul took a deep breath. The arrow rattled in his throat. "Ah, but this might be entertaining. Go on, Varus."

The dead praetor raised his sword. "Our desires reveal us. They show us for who we really are. Someone has come for you, Jason Grace."

Behind Varus, the crowd parted. The shimmering ghost of a woman drifted forward, and Jason felt as if his bones were turning to dust.

"My dearest," said his mother's ghost. "You have come home."