HAZEL

Hazel zipped through crowds and alleys, around buildings and across streets until she was out of breath. Each time the thump of the ground sounded closer and closer, but she never seemed to near it.

Sometimes she'd get strange looks from mortals, likely wondering what a sweaty, frantic teen could be in such a hurry for. One older couple even approached, asking if she needed help and where her mom was. She found it sweet, but also embarrassing . First Leo, and now random mortals reminding her how young she actually was. But subtle use of the Mist made the unwanted attention disappear.

After feeling pulled in so many different directions, unsure where to go, Hazel decided that tiring herself out wasn't gonna help. She slowed to a swift walking pace, occasionally hearing bits and pieces of strange conversation on the street. The voice of an exasperated girl reached Hazel from another part of the sidewalk.

"I'll tell you a secret, son of the sea god. Scoop up some dirt."

Sea god?

Hazel paused, then meandered through couples and friend groups, anyone in conversation. But she couldn't find the girl. Maybe she misheard.

"You're not so different from me, demigod. Even when I'm out of the water, the water is within me."

There she was again- her voice coming from another direction this time. Hazel whipped around, and at the end of a street, a swirling cloud of black vapor drifted forward, swallowing everything in its path.

Hazel stumbled back, but everywhere she looked, no mortals were bothered. The vapor wasn't just rolling in from the east- but west, north, and south too. She squinted as it got closer, and saw hazy shreds of white that coiled and undulated as if they were alive.

Now it dawned on her. She'd seen this before. In the midst of an Italian countryside, where she'd ridden Arion to her first meeting with Hecate.

Nope. Not again. Hazel didn't have time for this. She didn't need to be shown crossroads of potential futures, all horrible, and she certainly didn't need any more lectures from the goddess. Anything Hecate wanted to say, she should've mentioned in her father's temple.

Hazel pushed out both her arms, holding her hands with her palms up, and using all her might to send the vapor back. At least to send the goddess a message: not right now. But immortals, especially powerful ones, didn't work like that.

For beings with unlimited time, they sure were impatient for most of it.

The vapor and the Mist rushed closer in furious billows. It encircled her, enveloping the mortals, the buildings, and streetlights in inky black fog until nothing remained but the round patch of pavement under her feet. The sky turned a deep grey, and all noise quieted, until there was nothing but the faint whistle of the wind.

The creamy white vapor of the Mist swirled on the ground a few feet away, gathering itself into the form of a woman. An irritated one.

Hecate solidifed before her, looking much older than she had last time. She had appeared to be around twenty, with a sleeveless black dress, golden hair, and solid black eyes. Now she'd aged at least thirty years, and her youthful, poised posture was stiff, like moving would make her sore. She peered down her nose at Hazel, with tiredness, frustration, maybe a hint of curiosity.

Maybe Hazel should've been scared, but she couldn't help but feel that the more she was distracted, the more her chances of finding Percy dwindled. And that annoyed, and worried her.

I don't like the idea of you going down there.

The sound of a man's voice came from Hazel's right, and she jumped in surprise, but there was nothing there but a wall of black fog. Hecate's expression hardly changed, it was even expectant.

But if you must, I want you to remember something. The Labyrinth exists to fool you. It will distract you. That's dangerous for half-bloods. We are easily distracted.

"The Labyrinth?" Hazel directed her question at Hecate, remembering how fiercely Percy and Annabeth had denied using it to transport the statue. "What about it? Do I have to go in there? Is Percy down there?"

Hecate dismissed Hazel's concern. "The time of Daedalus has long passed. Do not interpret his words so earnestly." She stepped closer forward. Her eyes were no longer pure onyx black, but clouded by swirls of grey.

"What else have you heard today?"

Just that girl talking about a sea god, Hazel thought. But she didn't want to elaborate if it led Hecate on a tangent, especially if the man she just heard wasn't so important, either. She couldn't stop impatience from bleeding into her voice. "Does any of this have to do with Percy?"

Hecate's face soured. "You've chosen a precarious time to become insolent, Hazel Levesque. A time when even I cannot see the paths ahead, behind, or in between. "

"There's...something wrong with your magic?"

Hazel noticed then that Hecate's pets were missing. Gale the polecat and Hecuba the Labrador. And that concern was hiding underneath Hecate's posh and regal exterior.

"It is not often I am blinded. Only when the fate of the world hangs in such a dangerous balance. Both Gaea's defeat and victory lay in the hands of yourself and six others, and all your decisions were clear to me. Until now. Something's changed…"

Hecate lifted Hazel's chin, so she could stare deep into her eyes. "Something in your minds. A few, all, or one of you. Manipulating your perceptions, your perspectives...deceiving you."

Hazel felt goosebumps raise on the back of her neck, and the sweet summer air felt like a winter cold. She asked tentatively, "What is it…?"

"I do not know," Hecate murmured, letting Hazel's chin fall. "But it is why I've come to you so soon after our last encounter. Your powers are not done growing, and they need to grow faster than before."

Hazel put two and two together. "The voices I've heard-"

"You have heard others?"

"Only one."

"Pay attention. There won't only be sounds, but sights, and perhaps even feelings. Fragments of events that either have, will, or shall never come to pass. And they will reveal themselves to you for a reason."

Hazel suddenly didn't mind that Hecate had interrupted her search for Percy. New powers...that could only help her. "I can...learn to see through time?"

"You were born in a world that no longer exists, yet here you stand, touching the lives of those who would have never known your name. You've mastered the Mist- the ability to make the visions of gods and mortals alike bow to your will, choose what sights are revealed or hidden. Yes, my apprentice, you can make our universe do that for you, too. Provided you survive the coming days, and our greatest enemy does not come to power."

"But if you can't even see what's gonna happen, how can I-"

"You must learn to recognize deception, and discover the force that plagues the crew of the Argo. Possibly yourself. Only then will both our sights become clear, and your team can further the possibility of Gaea's defeat."

The word "possibility" somehow didn't sound so encouraging.

"At our last encounter, I told you your good work remains to be seen. That time is now."

Now? As in now, now?

"Disappoint me, and the first domino towards our destruction will fall."

Hazel hadn't wanted to see her in the first place, but now she needed her to stay. She needed to know more. "How do I see through deception? How do I know when I'm being tricked?"

But the fog was already starting to fade, and the sounds of the city crept back into the atmosphere. Hecate began to turn away, ready to dissolve back into her precious Mist.

"One last thing," Hecate stopped. "Before my sight diminished, I gleaned only one last piece of information. It is not my place to give easy answers, or warnings, and don't don't expect this again- but as insolent as you may be...you are my favorite student. So I tell you this: you have more than one son of Poseidon to worry about."

"More than Percy? Who?"

But Hecate disappeared, and the city returned. The sky melted back into it's previous state, and mortals passed her by without a second look. Was that supposed to be an "easy" answer? Son of Poseidon? Maybe she meant Frank. Sure, he wasn't a son, more of a distant relative. But their relationship (if it even still existed) was on rocky ground. Maybe that's what she meant.

She couldn't think of anyone else.

A tall girl with blonde hair came barging through a group of nearby pedestrians. She was as sweaty and frantic as Hazel had been, and in the midst of a desperate search. When she locked eyes with Hazel, relief washed over her features. Annabeth.

"Gods," Annabeth said, gasping as she jogged closer. "I saw all that fog and stuff, and I couldn't find you and-"

"I'm fine," Hazel insisted. Annabeth inspected her, probably for signs of battle wounds. "It was just an old friend."

"Old friend?"

A sudden thump vibrated the ground, and for the first time since it started, Hazel could tell, without question, which direction the tremors were coming from. She grabbed Annabeth's hand, and took off running toward a line of trees across the street.

Annabeth, though confused, didn't hesitate, and had no problem keeping up with Hazel. But she did have questions. "Old friend? You talked to someone? Who? What did they say?"

"I'll explain later," Hazel panted. She was going as fast she could, but still hadn't recovered from her cardio session through the city.

On either side of the trees were two patches of farmland, with fields, and smaller houses in the distance. The thumps got louder and louder as they passed through the outer, rural edge of the city, and eventually they were surrounded by grass, bushes, and trees. The ground shook so hard even Annabeth felt it.

"Here," said Hazel. She leaned against the trunk of a tree, still breathing hard.

Annabeth and her longer legs weren't so exhausted, she inspected the area, as if expecting more. "Here? It's just dirt." She kicked around some leaves and sticks. "There has to be some kind of entrance…"

Hazel fixated on a lone dirt spot devoid of plants and debris, hardly needing to concentrate. "There will be."

The ground caved in, forming a perfect circle just wide enough for them to get through.

They stared at it, almost half expecting something to jump out, but it was hard to see inside. The sun filtering through the trees didn't reach so far underground, and the tremors were no more.

Annabeth eyed Hazel warily. "Maybe I should go in first."

Hazel shook her head, and started lowering herself down. "Maybe if we shared the same dad. Unless your mom gave you powers I don't know about?"

"Jury's still out on that one," Annabeth said. Her face scrunched as she watched Hazel, like she was worried something was going to reach up and snatch her. "I wish I could learn magic. Or anything, really. Puzzles and trivia can be useful, but sometimes I'd rather breathe underwater. Or control fire. Or earth."

Hazel had only a moment to ponder Annabeth's confession, as she let go, falling for only a second before landing on all fours. Palms hitting the hard dirt. A muggy, earthy scent filled her nose- a familiar, suffocating smell. For a brief moment she was back in Alaska, doing Gaea's dirty work, about to pay the ultimate price.

Annabeth's voice rang from above. "Hazel? Are you okay? What do you see?"

She focused on the stream of sunlight raining from above, warming the back of her neck and hands. This wasn't like that time. Hazel was barely underground, directly below the opening that would provide an easy escape. This wasn't nearly as deep as the House of Hades, not even close.

Besides, she'd never had a problem being underground before.

She stood up, examining her surroundings. It was a wide, rounded cavern, though not very tall. On all sides were openings, as big as doorways- tunnels whose destinations were hidden in the dark. The whole place was cloaked in magic. Either that or it was freshly built or sculpted. But something was definitely wrong. Because Hazel hadn't sensed it.

She hadn't sensed anything of this.

"I'm coming down."

Hazel moved aside, unconsciously softening the dirt so her friend's landing wouldn't be as painful. Annabeth plopped down, able to stay upright and on two feet. Together they stepped tentatively forward, straining their eyes in the dark to find any stray details. Any monster or cursed object that might attack them…

Hazel's vision blurred slightly, and across the room she could almost make out a bronze statue. It was of a warrior, with bronze chains wrapped around his body, anchoring him to the floor.

She blinked, and it was gone.

Annabeth put her hand on the hilt of her sword, nodding at the array of tunnel openings. "Which one do we go down?"

Hazel tried. She really tried to use her magic, to expand her senses like she usually did, and see with more than her eyes. A minute ago, creating the hole they'd fallen through, it had been second nature.

Percy, think of Percy...she thought. He's down here. He needs you. Are you going to fail your friends again?

Hazel's eyes were drawn back up to the opening in the ground, and for a second, she imagined it getting smaller and smaller, then fading from view, with Hazel falling, and falling, and falling...something pulling on her aching leg, with only Percy's hand to hold...

"Hazel?"

She snapped to attention. Annabeth was waiting for an answer, but she still didn't know which one to go down. She'd rather not choose any.

Dirt began to fall from above, from the opening. The ground was shifting, closing the hole Hazel had made.

"No!"

She didn't think, she ran- instinctively trying to make an escape. But the earth didn't move to Hazel's will, neither lifting her to the ceiling, or maintaining their only way out.

Instead, the beam of sunlight thinned into nothing, and they were engulfed in darkness.

…

Hazel couldn't think of a worse fear of hers to come true.

Her powers were gone, and she'd just been buried alive. Again.

Annabeth's voice cut through the black, calmer than it had any right to be. "I take it you didn't do that?"

Hazel's heart started to pound, and she couldn't help but be annoyed, voice wavering, "Obviously." Then the sound of Annabeth's footsteps came closer. At least she hoped it was Annabeth.

"Give me your hand."

Hazel reached out, hands shaking, but grasping desperately at the air.

"I'm here," Annabeth's voice was much nearer now.

Hazel felt her arm, and they fumbled until they were holding hands. She wondered if Annabeth minded how tight she was squeezing. Being with someone, anyone, only made her feel marginally better. Her mother was there the last time she was trapped powerless underground, and not even her presence had quelled Hazel's terror. It hadn't stopped what came next.

"You seem calm," Hazel said, jealous. In the pitch black, any look Annabeth would have given her was a mystery.

"I figure you're scared enough for the both of us."

If Annabeth was scared, her voice didn't betray it. Maybe being in Tartarus had hardened her so much she wasn't afraid of anything anymore. They treaded carefully forward, with only the sound of their shoes on hard-packed dirt filling the air. "We just have to find Percy. He's trapped down here somewhere."

The air shifted into something thinner, and cooler- they'd entered one of the tunnels. Hazel tried to keep her mind off the depths and darkness they were submitting themselves to.

"How would an eidolon get itself stuck down here?" She asked.

Annabeth didn't hesitate with an answer. "Maybe it was tricked into it."

"Like us?"

"This isn't a trick," Annabeth said. Her voice was strained, and when Hazel slid her thumb over Annabeth's wrist, below the palm, the pulse was much faster than Hazel would've thought. She tried her magic again, ignoring the dirt and earth, the fear that fogged her brain, and focused on her other powers. Her ability to sense life and death. Annabeth's heart was pounding, and it was so loud Hazel was amazed she couldn't already hear it.

"I had...a dream," Annabeth started to explain. "There's no question. He's here, and it's really him, too."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Because, um, in my dream...he looked...scared."

Hazel began to feel the muggy, cold air in her throat. As if the further they went down the tunnel, the higher the humidity became. Like they were under a lake, or an ocean. She couldn't see or sense it to confirm, and refused to reach out, but she couldn't shake the sensation that the walls were closing in.

"Monsters have emotions, too," Hazel countered, keeping her voice level, as if it would help calm her. "An eidolon could be scared."

"Maybe, but...there was also a god, in my dream. He told me Percy had been set free for now. That this was our only chance to save him."

"A god? Which one?"

"I...don't remember. You know how those dreams are."

Hazel did. And to her, they were usually pretty memorable. But Annabeth had no reason to lie. She kept her thumb on Annabeth's wrist, monitoring for changes in her rapid pulse. "You didn't say anything about a dream before Leo left."

"I didn't know what we were heading into. I still don't. I guess I decided to not say anything that would scare anyone, especially if it already scared me."

Hazel figured she had a good read on Annabeth, and had never thought of her as someone prone to sugarcoating. "I wouldn't mind. It's worse not knowing what you're up against."

"Not always."

Her pulse remained the same.

"Annabeth...what exactly did you see in that dream?"

The ground lurched beneath them, becoming soft and mushy. The smell of salt water again filled her nose, and Hazel stumbled, desperately trying to keep upright in case the mud ate her up.

She fell back, bracing herself against a wall of dirt, and for a second she thought the damp, soppy soil was twisting and turning under her fingers.

"Annabeth…" Hazel started.

Annabeth's voice came from only a couple feet away. "This can't be right-"

Hazel, still blinded in the dark and unable to watch her step, was hesitant to move. "What's not right? You didn't see this?"

The sound of wet splashes and tumbling dirt came further down the tunnel, and in the distance, Hazel thought she saw a golden glow, and the shape of a person.

"Hello? Who's there?" It shouted from afar. Hazel knew that voice.

Percy's voice.

The sound of shoes squishing in and out of the mud passed by, and Annabeth shouted back: "Percy! It's me!"

"Annabeth? Annabeth!"

Hazel's fear dissipated. Her heart still pounded, but it was excitement and joy. Not fear. She ran forward, hearing Annabeth do the same, only for her shoes to get stuck in the ground, suctioned by the mud. She didn't care. She took them off, and kept moving toward the golden light. Except she was falling behind Annabeth. The mud splattered in her face, getting in her hair, on her jeans. None of it mattered, until she put one of her bare feet down and it didn't come up again.

She fell forward, landing on her elbows, with the wet dirt feeling like a thick paste weighing her down.

"Annabeth!" She called. "I'm stuck!"

Vaguely, Hazel could see Annabeth's outline, silhouetted by the distant golden light. She stopped, and Hazel could barely make out her ponytail, swishing back and forth, as she turned from Percy's direction and back to hers.

"I'll come back, I promise- I'll get Percy to help!"

Annabeth ran forward again, but before Hazel's stomach could even drop, a wall of earth came crashing down. Blocking them both from the golden light. From Percy.

In front of her, Annabeth pounded against the dirt barrier. "No!"

Hazel still couldn't pull her foot from the ground, she might have sank deeper in. "Annabeth, I need hel-"

A rumbling sound came from above, in between them, dirt and rock crashed from the ceiling, piling into a barrier. Soil and mud spilled onto her legs and back. Another had formed behind Hazel, too, cutting her off from the first cavern.

No mom. No Annabeth.

This time if she died, she died alone.

…

For a minute, she didn't move.

She was stuck anyway. Physically, in the ground. In an earthen chamber, surrounded on all sides.

Instead she waited. For Gaea's ugly face to appear before her, somehow in the complete and utter blackness, to gloat and taunt:

You thought you could escape me twice? Thwart my plans without consequence? Foolish girl. You were doomed the moment you rejoined the living. Death is patient. So am I.

But it didn't come.

Hazel waited. Ten minutes. An hour. Who knew. But Gaea's voice never resonated, and neither did Annabeth's, or Percy's. Soon the mud dried, caked under her fingertips. Clumped in her hair.

She could almost imagine laying there forever, becoming one with the dark. Succumbing to the fate she'd cheated. Pretending her second life had all been a dream, one she'd gotten to enjoy, but didn't deserve. It would take no effort to get lost in a slush of faded memories. Of her mom, who she could no longer picture. Of Sammy, who she could see, but only with Leo's face. Maybe the context, images, and voices of her past life were waning, but the feelings they gave her remained strong. And the strongest were terror, sadness, and regret.

Her more recent experiences were easier to slip into. Life at Camp Jupiter, the quest to Alaska, travels on the Argo. She found herself slipping into a memory as easily as one of her blackouts.

It was morning at Frank's house. At least, his grandmother's house.

The sun hadn't risen yet, instead the sky was dark blue, and slowly getting lighter. She was in the kitchen with Percy, using only the dim yellow light from the pantry, so as not to alert the ogres outside. She'd wanted to make Frank breakfast, his favorite breakfast. Orange juice, poached eggs, and bacon on toast. What consistently appeared on his plate at Camp Jupiter.

But she found herself lost in the modern kitchen, never having needed to cook since her time in the Underworld. She hadn't become acquainted with this thing called a "microwave", and the electric stovetop looked much different than what she was used to working with.

Instead, Percy volunteered to do the job. He claimed it had been too long since he'd gotten the chance, and wanted to do something that reminded him of his mother. While he was busy, Hazel had her fun- taking food items and playing with the microwave settings, before returning them to the fridge. She put a cup of water in there and in under a minute, it was scalding. But her curiosity peaked when she found a flat little packet labeled "Microwave Popcorn". She knew how popcorn worked, and there was no way she could stick that flat little thing into that magic box and have it pop out ready to eat.

But Percy said it would be too loud, with Frank and his grandma sleeping upstairs. They both wanted Frank to get his rest. But he promised someday, maybe even as soon as after their quest, she could come meet his mom and step-dad, and make all the popcorn she wanted.

They snacked at the table, before Percy finished Frank's bacon. Outside the window, the world was slowly waking, but still bathed in tones of blue. The only noise being the hum of the refrigerator, and quiet buzz of the oven. Hazel let her eyes wander around the rest of the kitchen and living room, observing the shadows on the walls, the glass picture frames, the leather couch. It was unfamiliar. But if she closed her eyes, she could be at Camp Jupiter, awake too early, and enjoying the blue morning before everyone else caught up. Something told her Percy was that kind of person, too.

They bickered about who would take Frank's food upstairs, once realizing whoever it was had to face Frank's grandmother alone.

"I've heard Frank's stories," Percy had said. "She'll tell me to tuck in my shirt and brush my hair. And probably something about my posture. You're a girl, that means she'll be nice to you." He gave her the cup of juice and plate of food before she could protest. "Especially since you made Frank breakfast."

"But I didn-"

"And what a good job you did. Gods, look at those perfect eggs. You're talented, truly. Now hurry before it gets too cold." He backed away, grinning stupidly and folding his arms so she couldn't pass the food back to him.

She turned away in a dramatic huff, acting personally offended, and Percy snickered. Before climbing the stairs, she glanced back to the kitchen. Percy gave her a cheeky thumbs up, and rays from the newly-risen sun bounced off his hair. Combined with the pantry light, it creating a soft, golden halo effect. And Hazel had a strange thought then. That if Percy had accepted the offer to be a god, that's what he would have looked like.

Then the rays disappeared behind dark clouds, and the grin slipped off his face. His eyes widened in surprise, and he fell right through the floor, which had now become boggy soil.

Hazel dropped everything, and dove after him as she had the day it happened. When he'd fallen into the muskeg, the one she'd forgotten to warn him about. The sensation was the same. Her limbs froze, enveloped in cold mush too thick to swim through. Last time she'd had Frank's bow, and he'd pulled her out while Percy held onto her ankles.

There wasn't any Frank this time, and she never felt Percy's grasp. She alone drowned in the bog, with no perfect long-lasting memories from Gaea to comfort her before the end.

Hazel. Hazel, it's me.

The voice was too distant to place, but enough to make her open her eyes. When she did, she was back in the collapsed tunnel. The earthen chamber.

She promised to help, when Percy had come to her in a dream. What good was she now.

None.

She didn't move again, until another voice sounded. Like the girl she'd heard earlier talking about a sea god, and the man speaking of the Labyrinth, rang softly from far away. Hazel didn't know what good this "power" of hearing and seeing random things was going to do for her. She didn't pay much attention, imagining the inevitable of her, Percy, and Annabeth suffocating in isolation. All within a hundred feet of each other. But faint words still came through.

I think those are...above the doors...isn't just a shrine to...it's a temple of fear…

It was a girl's voice, one that was familiar. But Hazel couldn't bring herself to figure out who.

She saw Jason carry Percy's lifeless body to the water over and over again. Nico stuck in that jar. Leo, attacked by Clytius on her watch. They were as vivid as her flashbacks once were, the last memories running through her mind. They might've taken her before the suffocation or the mud ever did.

But her foot fell asleep. And even while wallowing in her own misery, it couldn't be ignored. Hazel wiggled her stuck leg, trying to shake away the sensation, and the now-hardened dirt fell loose- allowing her to go free. She pushed herself off the ground, and her surroundings became real again: the dusty air, dirt walls, the buried gems and jewels-

Jewels…

Hazel felt like she'd been slapped. But in a good way, if that were possible. Her mind cleared, she could practically see the clouds part.

Moving the earth hadn't worked so far. Fine. But she'd used her powers to sense Annabeth's heartbeat. Maybe her other powers would work too. Hazel put her hands on the nearest wall, now with no trace of dampness or water, and closed her eyes.

A deep, strong voice boomed from somewhere in front of her, through the wall, but it sounded as if underwater, or bellowed through a thick fog:

Lost forever. Swallowed by darkness.

Thanks, mystery voice, Hazel thought. But I think I'm already past that.

She willed the voice away, instead opening her mind, and welcoming other speakers.

We're lost. We did what he wanted us to! We should have bided our time, talked to the enemy, figured out a plan. That always works!

It was Annabeth, panicked and rambling. But what she was saying also didn't help.

Hazel willed Annabeth away, too.

Annabeth, I never ignore your advice, Piper spoke, coming from Hazel's right. It had been Piper's faint voice she heard. All her words came through this time: But this time I have to. We can't defeat this place with reason. You can't think your way out of your emotions.

Emotions…

Hazel dug her fingers into the soil, reaching out for the jewels and gems hidden all around, and channeled her despair, her hopelessness. Her anger, too. Everything she didn't want, she pretended as though they were being sucked from her, and put into the stones. Giving them life, and power.

She opened her eyes, and could finally see.

The chamber glowed. Ruby red, emerald green, sapphire blue...light glinted dimly off tiny shining surfaces, creating thin beams of color that bounced from wall-to-wall. It wasn't a large space, and Hazel was still trapped, but it looked and felt less like a prison. It was even...beautiful.

A spark of hope lit inside her, getting to recognize beauty again. In the real world.

Then Hazel blinked, and the rainbow light dimmed. A bone-chilling cold wafted into the room, as if seeping from the dirt and settling into her body. The beauty seemed to fade, and the jewels instead appeared like beady eyes hidden in shadow.

Closest to her, a fat ruby jutted from the dirt, and faded images materialized on its flattest side. Hazel took it into her hands, compelled, and watched.

It displayed images- moving pictures, like the sort of thing she'd see in Piper's knife, or a color television. But these were monochrome, materializing in various shades of ruby red. First she saw Percy and Annabeth. They were holding onto a thin ledge, hanging over the gaping, inescapable pit to Tartarus. The one Hazel, and no one else, could save them from. Next came the river, where Hazel thought Percy would rest forever. Last, was her. Her and her mom, and their last moments before being buried alive.

Even though Hazel watched these memories from her own point of view, Maria Levesque's face remained hidden.

"Shame about your mom."

Hazel whipped around, and at the other end of the chamber, a small girl stood. She had her arms crossed, a snooty look on her face, and a smug but lively disposition for someone who was obviously dead.

Black dirt stuck to the beds of her nails, to her clothes, to the top of her only shoe and the sock on the foot that was missing one. She had dried blood on her face and arms, remnants of cuts and wounds made by sharp and heavy stones. One of her legs was bent unnaturally, purple and bruised like the bones were crushed underneath, but she stood on it fine.

Her muted, brown jacket was plain, like the rest of her outfit. Everything she wore was torn, faded, and stained with blood and dark oil. Hazel would have wondered what happened to this poor girl, if she didn't already know. She recognized her own clothes. Her own hair. She'd already had practice seeing herself through another's eyes.

This girl was from the last memory in the ruby. Her death.

Past-Hazel sauntered closer, walking perfectly on her broken leg. Reflection of golden light from a nearby moonstone burned dimly in her eyes.

"She's lost forever...forgotten...erased from this world even in your memory."

Maybe she'd fallen asleep. Maybe she was dreaming.

The dream-version of herself traced a bloody finger under Hazel's chin, but it didn't feel like an illusion. "What will you be remembered for, if you're remembered at all?"

Hazel felt cold, but the touch of the ghost was warm. It continued:

"Your first accomplishment, thwarting the giant Alcyoneus from rising? Well, no, because he rose anyway. You may have delayed his entrance, but who else possesses this knowledge? Frank? We know how he feels about that."

The ghost circled Hazel, leaning closer to her ear, and continued taunting. "Could've saved your mom, if you didn't give in to Gaea's demands. If you ran when you had the chance, not allowing yourself to be a puppet for our mother. She pulled both your strings until the end. But only you could've done something about it. You didn't.

"You did save others, didn't you? From fates just as gruesome. Percy and Annabeth would have been ripped apart between our worlds. Between Tartarus, and the surface of the Earth...No, wait, it was Leo that opened the doors.

"Of course Leo was no match for Clytius. Neither were you, until the rest of your friends showed up. But hey, Percy and his girl made it out alive. That was your doing."

The ghost of her past-self stepped away, leaving Hazel room to breathe, and inspected the glowing jewels embedded in the soil walls. Their light faded when she plucked them, and tossed on the ground those not big or beautiful enough to catch her fancy.

She toyed with Hazel, who was given hope by those precious stones. Maybe it would have made her mad, if the attempt to break her spirit wasn't so obvious. Hazel may have been covered in dirt, left to suffocate underground a second time, but she wasn't in as nearly bad shape as the broken girl in front of her.

"At least," Hazel's double went on. "They would have stayed alive, if you'd sensed Percy's true state under the water. If you didn't lead Annabeth down here, into a trap that anyone could have foreseen, to die with Percy. To die with you."

This girl pouted bitterly, and Hazel wondered how this girl could see the twinkling, vivid colors- glittering in the shadow, reminiscent of an Alaskan night sky- and not feel it was something worth living for. Just like blue mornings, and good friends. Even for only a little while longer.

"You deserve this, really. Punishment for the mortals who died because of your powers. For your mom, who you could have saved. For your friends, who you failed again and again. You were right before, you know. To contemplate the meaning of your life, and conclude you didn't earn it."

The ghost waited for her to react, staring at her with smug satisfaction, waiting for Hazel to fall to the ground in ever-flowing tears and unending despair. A part of her wanted to, but the other part wanted to heal the girl's pain. Her own pain. She approached the ghost, and it's smug smile faltered, unnerved. Hazel took its hands in hers- this poor girl's hands in hers- without resistance. She did so gently, ignoring the broken fingernails, the blood, the dirt. She looked into the eyes of her own self-hatred come to life, empathizing with the resentment buried deep.

"You didn't deserve what happened to you. You were young, and all alone. No Nico, no friends, no family. But you know better now, and you have time."

To their left, where the debris had come down and separated Hazel and Annabeth, the jewels grew brighter.

"Annabeth's down here, too. She's your friend. Your family, if you let her. She wouldn't turn her back on us, so we can't turn our backs on her."

Her ghost, disappointed and shocked by Hazel's extension of forgiveness, appeared to savor in quiet delight at the mention of Annabeth. She said haughtily, "We'll see about that." But Hazel paid no mind to her comment, knowing what she wanted was Hazel's surrender. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the girl, bringing her into a tight embrace. She hadn't had a good hug in a while.

Hazel closed her eyes, wanting her past-self to feel the love she was giving. The love she'd get from others, if she kept fighting.

When she opened them, the ghost was gone, and Hazel's arms were wrapped around her own body.

...

Silence returned, but it was bearable now.

The quiet felt polite, existing to give Hazel peace to think, unlike the vacuum of time and space it had been before, allowing her to get lost in her own mind.

When her powers still didn't move the earth, she'd forced herself to remain calm. She sat in the middle of the room, trying to meditate and draw more visions and voices- like the conversation she'd overheard between Annabeth and Piper. Hopefully it would be like manipulating the Mist, maybe even easier. Instead of bringing to life sights and sounds of her own creation, she knew the events she saw, and could see, happened somewhere in time. Or they eventually would. At least, that's what Hecate had told her.

The air had grown muggy and humid again, followed by the smell of salty sea air, and the dirt of the walls and ground becoming damp. Maybe it was part of her vision powers, and she was about to see something that happened at the ocean, or in it. So far it was a mystery.

As Hazel emptied her mind, she saw flashes of moving images. They played in front of her eyes as if from a broken projector- one that cut out every other frame, and was too weak to convey contrast and detail, reminding Hazel of the black and white movies she used to sneak into at the theater. The voices that accompanied them with were distant, slipping through one of her ears and out the other, like a memory Hazel just barely grasped, before it slipped away.

She saw ruins, and an ocean far behind them. A few stone walls, a weed-choked courtyard, a dead-end stairwell chiseled into the rock. Some plywood sheets covered a pit and a metal scaffold supported a cracked archway. And ghosts, hundreds of them, that could easily be mistaken for Lares from Camp Jupiter. They wore tunics and sandals over their transparent bodies, and milled around free of worry. One ghost wore a tattered Greek tunic, with the end of an arrow jutting from his throat. He held a marble bust over his head, and Hazel heard him shout: "Our next offering! Let us feed the Earth Mother!"

The landscape shifted, and the ocean behind the ruins disappeared, replaced by layers of trees. The ghosts were barely visible now, except for one in a purple Camp Jupiter shirt and Roman legionnaire armor, who seemed to address her directly, asking, "Have you chosen your fate, Jason Grace?"

Hazel didn't know the answer, or why her powers were making her see through Jason's eyes. She was certainly interested, but not now. Now she needed something useful, something relevant.

Her vision blurred, and she got only a glimpse of a woman in a flowery dress, with colored bangles on her wrists and blonde curls sprouting from her head, before the scenery changed- and the blonde hair morphed until it belonged to someone Hazel recognized. Everything shifted into perfect, vivid color. Better than a movie, a dream, or a memory.

It was Annabeth. Younger than she was now, with grey in her hair, and supporting on her shoulders a mass of gray clouds that swirled in a heavy vortex. Then clouds dropped, crushing Annabeth into another vision. One where she was older, and throwing herself in front of a blade held by a boy in an eye patch.

It pierced her arm, then the scene faded, but Hazel got the message.

Annabeth was in danger.