A.N.: Bit of a longer chapter, but there's a lot of important stuff, so hopefully it doesn't drag on too much. Thanks again to anyone who's dropped a review, it's encouraging to see people are enjoying this as much as I am!

14

Mason

Once the elevator doors closed, Mason found himself standing awkwardly in the lobby of the Empire State Building. Thankfully, he didn't get bored easily, as he had become accustomed to long periods of time alone, but he still found himself wondering what to do while Reyna and the others were in Olympus. He wandered up and down the hallway a couple of times before deciding that standing outside might lend to more sights to pass the time.

And so he found a vacant spot on the sidewalk out front to lean against a wall and do some absentminded people-watching. There were a good number of people making their way up and down the city street, many of them in a hurry, walking brisky with a briefcase or backpack and not making eye contact with anyone. A lot of them had their eyes glued to their phones, even as they were crossing the street.

He had only been standing there for a couple of minutes before he did a double-take.

There, right across the street from where he was, was a young girl dressed in a brown hoodie, and she was looking directly at him. As soon as his eyes landed on her, she waved at him, a warm smile on her face.

It was the same girl from the campsite last night.

Mason stared, doubting his own eyes for a moment. Before he had any time to truly process the sight, she waved at him again, seemingly more pointed, and turned to begin walking down the sidewalk. It seemed like an invitation to follow her.

He clenched his jaw, staring at her as she gracefully made her way through the scattering of pedestrians. It had literally only been a few hours since a different child had led him right into a trap. He couldn't possibly let it happen again. And yet he was curious. Surely there was something to this strange girl, and Mason felt as though she had a more inviting feel to her. What if she needed help? Even if it wasn't a normal human girl, shouldn't he at least find out if she did?

Ruffling his hair stressfully, Mason set off after the girl.

He followed her down the street, making a couple of turns around street corners. He lost her a couple of times, but always managed to spot her again after a moment through the crowd. It was odd; it was as though the people around them didn't see her, like she was invisible. She wove around each person in her way effortlessly, even though no one seemed to move for her or even acknowledge her.

Eventually she made one last turn down an alley, and a few moments later Mason turned the corner after her.

As he rounded the corner, he saw a mostly vacant alley, with some small loading docks and dumpsters and multicolored graffiti along the concrete walls. Further down the alley, he saw what looked like an open barrel with a fire crackling up from inside, and beside it, the girl.

Mason glanced around and behind him, not seeing anyone else. As he approached slowly, he saw that the girl's appearance had changed slightly, the brown hoodie becoming more of an actual hooded robe. It was still the same girl, he knew. Which meant that unless she had changed clothes in the seven seconds she was out of his sight, she was definitely not a normal girl.

The noise of the bustling city seemed to fall away into the distance as he approached her and felt the warmth of the fire. The girl looked at him.

"Hello."

Mason stared at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Hi."

She smiled and reached out her hands, and he noticed she was holding something. "Would you like some lunch?"

He managed to break away from her deep brown eyes to glance down to a tray of ham and tomato sandwiches, strawberries, and potato salad. All food that he loved.

"I… yeah, I think so, but… who are you?"

She looked him over for a few seconds, as if she were deciding on her words. "My name is Hestia. But I doubt that means anything to you, correct?"

Mason shook his head.

"Well, you needn't worry about me, but thank you for being concerned enough to check."

Every word the girl said added to the confusion Mason felt, but he managed to shake off some of the daze of shock. "How did you know…"

"What you were thinking?" the girl finished. "I know you better than you realize, Mason. I have been watching you for some time."

He was pretty certain by this point that this girl was actually a goddess or something. Which, oddly enough, put him a little more at ease. Maybe because the idea of getting stalked by an extremely cryptic eight-year-old girl would have been much more ridiculous and worrying.

"Why?"

Hestia held up the tray of food again, gesturing to a pair of outdoor folding chairs that Mason now saw were set up beside the fire. "Come, sit and eat, and we can continue talking."

Mason sat tentatively, slowly inspecting the food before letting his hesitation drop and digging in fully. It was delicious, and he made sure to thank her at least three times throughout his eating, which she accepted with soft smiles and chuckles. He wished that the rest of the group were here to enjoy the food, too, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it himself.

Eventually he had his fill, and his mind went back to the odd situation and person. "I assume you're a god of some kind?"

She smiled, taking back the now mostly empty tray. "Yes, though much less known than many of the others."

"Sorry," he said instinctively.

"You need not be. I am content with my place."

He nodded, starting to become more curious about her than cautious. "What is your place?"

"Well," she said, glancing upward. Mason did as well, and he saw that from their spot in the alley, they could still see a bit of the top of the Empire State Building. "In one way, it is there," she said, pointing. "But it is more than that. I tend to the fires of the hearth, whether it be Olympus or elsewhere. Wherever home is, a bit of me is there, as well." As she said this, Mason felt the fire from the barrel flicker higher and hotter for a moment before settling back down.

"But," Hestia said, looking back to him. "I believe a time has come for a change. For the fire to grow."

Even though he didn't know what she was referring to, Mason felt the significance behind her words, like a small flicker of something inside of him. Like butterflies in his stomach, but less nervous and more anticipatory.

The girl looked at him intently, her deep brown eyes now flickering with a warm fire. She held out her hand. "May I show you something?"

Mason gulped, staring at the outstretched hand. A whole flood of emotions swirled through him, and fear was certainly one of them. But, as Hestia looked toward him, her expression one of gentle encouragement, his curiosity won him over.

He reached out to grab her hand, and as he did, everything around them changed.

He was still standing, hand outstretched and holding hers, but everything else was different. After but a moment of shock, he immediately recognized where they were. The barrel of fire beside them had become an outdoor fire pit among a lawn of grass, and the sounds of water gently lapping against the shore and crickets chirping reached his ears.

They were in his own backyard, back in Michigan.

It was night outside, with the lights of the house emanating onto the back lawn and the skies above full of stars. Hestia looked around with a smile. "You have quite the house," she said.

Mason looked to her, seeing that in the darkness she gave off a warm, glowing light, dim but noticeable. "How did you…"

"A vision," she said, knowing his question. "Of a memory, specifically."

Realization hit him. "You gave me that dream last night," he whispered.

"Somewhat. There were other forces at play, too. I just nudged them in the right direction."

"But… why?" he asked, many questions wrapped up into one. Why did he need to see this? Why him? What did she want? Too many to put into words.

Hestia was staring off towards the house. "Because he may very well be the key to you becoming who you were meant to be."

Mason followed her gaze towards the house, and saw who she was talking about.

There, standing a few feet from the house, was Cade.

He remembered now when this was: only a couple of days after he had found the boy washed up in his backyard. Despite his struggles with getting Cade to stay and recuperate, eventually the boy had agreed to spend at least a couple of days there. Mason had done his best to make his guest at home, but it was hard to get anywhere with the sort of emotional wall that he clearly had up. It had taken almost an entire day just to get him to say his name, despite Mason's semi-frequent questioning of who he was and what he was doing out here.

Cade was standing outside, wearing a pastel blue Relient K t-shirt that Mason had given him. It was definitely multiple sizes too big, but there weren't many other options around, so the boy had grumpily caved in and put it on. He was holding something in one hand, and was looking up into the night sky with a subtly wistful expression.

Mason watched as the back door opened and his past self stepped out into the night with a concerned expression. "Cade? You alright?"

The boy's expression tensed as he turned. "I'm fine."

Memory Mason awkwardly stepped forward to stand next to Cade. After a minute of silence, he gestured down to the boy's hand. "What's that?"

The boy lifted his hand. In it, he held a small metal handheld telescope, the kind that could retract in and out. It was simple, and seemed to be made mostly of brass, with a ring around the top that was jet black.

"It was a gift," Cade said after another minute of silence. "From my mom."

"It's cool. Is she into astronomy?"

The boy averted his gaze towards the ground. "No." He paused. "But I am." He gripped the telescope tightly. "And my dad was."

Mason tried to read Cade's face. "Was?" he said. "He's not anymore?"

He saw the boy's face contort into an uneasy scowl, and Mason realized what he meant. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't…" he trailed off. This had been the most Cade had given him since he arrived, and he didn't want to cut the conversation short. Thankfully, Cade didn't run off inside or lash out, instead just looking back to the night sky, his vibrant eyes flickering between each star like he would find an answer to a question shining down from one of them.

"That one's Sirius," he said suddenly, pointing up to the sky. Mason followed his finger to the star he was referring to. "Brightest in the sky. Named after the Greek word for 'scorching.'" Cade stared up at it, his expression softening just slightly. "Dad used to tell me it was always watching over me, like a guardian angel or something. So I always know where to look for it."

Mason let a small smile cross his face. It had been good to hear Cade seem more at ease, or at least talking about something. Cade continued to point out stars, calling them by name and saying something brief about them, like how many lightyears away it was or what constellation it was a part of. He still seemed on edge, not letting himself smile or meet Mason's gaze, but it seemed cathartic to him, so Mason listened quietly as he did. Eventually Cade's eyes fell back to the telescope in his hand, which Mason only just realized was odd that he hadn't used.

Mason gave him a minute before speaking again. "What is it you're doing out here? Did you run away?"

Cade was silent long enough to give Mason the answer, but the boy spoke again before he could say something else. "I'm doing something for my mom," he said with a quiet voice. "Something important."

"And where do you have to go to do this something?"

Cade looked at Mason with narrow eyes. "Why do you care?"

Mason met his gaze. "What if I want to help?"

Cade averted his eyes. "No," he said immediately.

"Why not?"

"It's… I have to do it alone."

"Why?"

"I just do, okay!" Cade said, raising his voice. "I have to do this. It can't be anyone else."

"I can't even help you? At all?"

"By doing what?" the boy said, glaring at Mason. "You don't know anything about me. You can't do anything that would help me. You're not like me."

Mason's face contorted in confusion. "Like you? What does that mean?"

Cade stared at him with his intense expression for a moment before turning and storming back to the house, running inside.

"Cade, come on!" Mason called out as he followed him up to the back door.

As the sound of the door closing echoed through the night, current-day Mason saw Hestia step over to the fire pit, waving her hands over it. As she did, fire burst upward, a column of flames reaching at least six feet up. She looked to Mason, who stepped over to her. "You seem to have changed since then, yes?"

Guilt creeped into his gut. "I hope so."

Hestia raised an eyebrow. "And why do you say that?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I just… I let him down. I pushed him too hard, and I asked too many questions, and I didn't listen enough, and…" He sighed, looking for the words. "I just know I could have done more. Or less. I don't know."

"What will you do now?"

Mason looked at the goddess, thoughts running through his head. Clearly she was talking about Reyna, and everything that was going on with her quest and their trip. Things were already so different from the last time someone had shown up to his house in a desperate situation, and he would have been lying if he said he knew what he was doing at all. Regardless, he did know what he felt and what he wanted to do.

"I'll just be there to help. In whatever way I can. Even if it's small."

"And what about when it's over? What will you do then?"

He had been trying not to think about that – about the inevitable end to their short journey, and the fact that he most likely would not be needed or wanted after it. Even if they parted as something like friends, he knew Reyna and the others wouldn't have much reason to see or need him again. After all, he couldn't get into Olympus. What were the chances he would be let into any part of their world, especially after all of this was over?

His eyes stared blankly into the fire. "I guess I go home," he said with a hint of sadness. "And wait for the next runaway teen to show up," he said with a quiet laugh.

Hestia studied him closely for a long moment, eyes narrowed in thought. Then she smiled, this time more full of something like pride. "Yes, I think it's time," she said.

Mason looked to her in confusion. "Time for what?"

Instead of answering, she reached into the fire with one hand, the flames roaring up with renewed intensity. Mason took an instinctive step back as the heat washed over him, though the warmth wasn't uncomfortable. After a moment, the flames died down, and Hestia retracted her hand, holding something.

It looked to be a torch of some kind, at least two feet long. It was sleek and elegant, with a core structure of dark, marbled wood, and ivory accents that wove up and around it like vines. The tip of it widened into a thin ring of gold around the base of the fire, which was lit in a small but fervent flame atop the torch, flickering with a deep orange color.

"This," Hestia spoke, looking into the torch's flame, her eyes flickering the same color. "is the Olympic Torch."

She seemed to know what he was going to say. "The original one, from Ancient Greece. The flame would be kept alive throughout the ancient Olympic games, in my temple. But this is where the flame always originated. With me."

Hestia looked to Mason, her eyes intent with purpose. "I have safeguarded it for many centuries. Kept the flame alive, so as not to lose it. However, I believe now that it has more use among the world. Its capabilities can serve those in need of warmth and light in this world of darkness. I have only needed to find someone of this world to have wield it."

It took Mason a long moment of silence to realize. "Wait," he said, holding up his hands. "Me?"

She nodded.

The weight of what she was saying began to fall on him. "Why me?"

"You have the fire inside of you already," she said. "That much is clear to me now. Your heart burns for those who shiver in the cold, and you would do anything to trade your place for theirs, if only you were given the chance. You see that, don't you?"

Mason couldn't disagree, even though he felt like her words were far too lofty for anything that he had felt or done. "But I'm mortal. Wouldn't a demigod be better?"

"I am the hearth that any can gather around. Parentage matters very little to me. Family is much more than blood, and I know you know this as well."

He thought back to the numerous days in the orphanage, playing games with the younger children and helping to clean and cook with the adults, as well as his content days spent with a foster family. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"This Torch can help you and your friends save your camp. It is what Reyna has been seeking out, and it is what she can use to lift the burden of the curse. But I can only give it to you if I know you are willing to wield it for more than just that. There are other ways to save Camp Half-Blood, and I wish very dearly to be the one to help, but I also must know."

She looked at him with intent, her eyes burning. "Mason Jackman. You have the heart to carry my Torch. Will you carry it with you, use it with wisdom, and wield my light in this world?"

Mason stared into the fire of the Torch, his mind reeling. Everything had happened so fast, and now he was being given the chance to do something great and terrifying. He still hardly understood everything she had said, but he knew this was an enormous responsibility. There were still so many questions he wanted to ask, but he knew that there wasn't enough time. Every unknown in all of this - what would happen if he said yes, how he was supposed to help, if he could even trust her – it all had to take a backseat. There was nothing left but the choice to trust or to be safe and leave everything to the others.

He couldn't do that.

Mason reached out, grabbing the Torch with one hand. "I will," he said with as much shaky confidence as he could muster. "I'll try."

Hestia beamed, and let go of the Torch for him to hold it on his own. It was heavier than he expected, but a surge of warmth passed through him, soothing his nerves.

"The Torch can only be lit by those who truly understand it," she informed him. "As of yet, that is only me. So until you learn its purpose and power, I suggest you do what it takes to keep it lit."

Mason nodded absently, still staring at the object in his hand.

"However, once it is lit, any who wield it can use it to empower themselves. It sees into a person's strengths and heightens them, like adding fuel to a fire. So be careful of who you allow to use it, and that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "I will be with you as much as I can. But I fear you have many trials ahead of you, ones I cannot help you with directly. Find your strength. You will need it."

He looked at her, expecting to feel dread at her words, but instead he just felt warmth and excitement. "Thank you," he heard himself say breathily, without thinking. He wasn't sure why, but it just felt right to say.

Hestia smiled at him warmly again, and he saw an inferno of emotions swirling in her eyes: pride, encouragement, endearment, and maybe even a little bit of sadness.

As he looked into her eyes, he felt the air around him swirl and contract, and in a brief flash of light, he found himself standing in the New York alleyway again, the Olympic Torch still held in his hand. Hestia was gone, as well as any trace of her, aside from the barrel where the fire had been just minutes ago, a thin wisp of smoke now trailing up from where it had been.

(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)

If Mason had felt awkward standing in the Empire State Building lobby before, he felt downright uncomfortable doing so now. He didn't know exactly what the people around him saw due to the Mist, but he definitely got at least a couple of weird looks as he stood against the wall holding the Torch, which was still lit. When he had first heard about the Mist, he had thought it was for the sake of just keeping the gods and demigods safe from the world, but now, as people passed him by without giving him more than an odd glance, he found himself whispering quiet prayers of thanks to whatever being had made the Mist and allowed him to stand in the lobby with a big torch without getting arrested.

He wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed, but eventually he spotted Reyna and the others emerging from the elevator. They spotted him quickly and made their way over to him.

"Hey," he said. "How'd it go?"

They all looked at him with a slightly confused and curious expression.

"Fine," Reyna said simply, looking him over like she didn't know exactly what to make of him. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I was told you talked with someone. And that they gave you something."

"What's that?" Tabitha asked, pointing to the Torch. "A flashlight or something?"

Mason looked at the Torch, unsure of how anyone would think it was a flashlight. "Wha-" Then he remembered the Mist, and the fact that most demigods couldn't see through particularly strong instances of it, which must have been the case for the Torch. "Right. No, its… sort of a weird story. But it can help us save Camp Half-Blood," he said, looking to Reyna.

He expected her to look confused, and though she may have been, it seemed more like she was amusingly surprised, like someone had told her this would happen and she didn't believe them until now. The others still looked confused, though.

"Well," Reyna said. "We shouldn't waste any time, then. Let's get to camp."

(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)

As Mason arranged for a couple of cabs to take them at least most of the way down Long Island to Camp Half-Blood, they discussed what had happened in Olympus, as well as what the plan was going forward.

"So, what was everyone up to up there?" Percy asked. "We all talked with someone, right?"

A moment of silence passed.

"That bad, huh?"

"Not necessarily," Reyna said, looking out into the busy street. "I spoke with Lady Athena."

Nico gave her an impressed look. "Right. What did she have to say? Hopefully she gave you some kind of thanks after everything you did for her."

"She did. But I wasn't there for that. She was kind enough to give me some wisdom for the days ahead." She smiled slightly. "She is much different than I was expecting, after all Annabeth had said about her."

Percy perked up at the mention of Annabeth. "Really? In what way?"

"She seems a little more… sentimental than Annabeth made her out to be. Though I think that may have been a recent change."

"That'd be nice," Percy muttered. "She scares the pants off me sometimes."

"What about you?"

Percy rubbed his neck. "My father."

Reyna raised an eyebrow. "And?"

He bit his lip. "It's… complicated. I don't know how much I can get into it right now. It has to do with… someone-"

"First cab is here," Mason unknowingly interrupted as he looked back to the group. "We can get at least most of the way there, but we'll have to split up, since we can't all fit in one."

"You three go," Reyna said. "I'll take the second one with Mason."

"Wait, shouldn't you two take the first one?" Percy asked. "It's your quest, and he's got the thing that'll apparently help camp."

"I mean, the second one will be here in, like, two minutes," Mason said.

"Besides," Reyna said, a sly smile crossing her face. "If anything is waiting to stop us along the way, they'll go for you first, and we'll be fine."

Everyone was quiet.

"That was a joke."

Percy shook his head as he ducked into the cab. "You're scary when you joke."

Soon enough, Percy, Nico, and Tabitha had all departed in a cab, and Mason and Reyna stood waiting for theirs on the curb.

"So," Reyna said. "This will really work, then? Whatever it is you were given?"

Mason looked at the Torch, which was still lit with a small flame at the top. "I think so. As long as it's lit, we can use it to…" he trailed off, thinking about what Reyna had described the situation at Camp Half-Blood as. "Actually, I'm not sure how to use this to help. She said it could heighten someone's abilities or something. Do you know what that means?"

Reyna looked off in thought. "Maybe."

After a moment, her eyes narrowed, and she glanced around them.

"What is it?" Mason asked.

Before she could answer, a voice spoke up from behind them. "Hello, dears."

The two of them turned to see a woman standing before them. She was dressed in all leather, with black leather pants and boots and a crimson leather jacket. Her body was slim, and her hair black and curly. Mason noticed with some trepidation that there was a whip attached to her hip. Her face was tanned, with angular facial features that gave a menacing aura, despite Mason not knowing who she was.

Reyna took a small step forward and to the side, putting herself partially between Mason and the stranger. However, as she did, he could see her face grow pale and her expression slacken.

"Who are you?" Mason asked, gripping the Torch tightly.

The woman looked surprised for a moment, as if she wasn't expecting his response. "Curious," she said. She looked to Reyna with an amused smirk. "Well, dear, you seem to recognize me. Care to let him know what you see?"

Reyna didn't respond, her eyes still wide and staring. After a second, she shook herself out of her daze. "You're… you must be Nemesis," she said shakily.

The woman's smile widened. "Correct you are. Though you didn't answer my question. Shame. Maybe one day you'll admit it."

Mason had no idea what she was talking about, but he felt uneasy nonetheless.

"Now, to business. I'm afraid we're going to have to cut your little errand short. Can't have all our hard work go to waste, now can we?"

"We?" Reyna said sharply.

Nemesis smiled, and Mason realized the space around them was darkening, like a blanket was being thrown over the Manhattan skyline. His stomach dropped as he recognized what was happening, and he turned just in time to see a figure materialize from the asphalt, looming over them as a shadowed silhouette.

He shakily held out the Torch, illuminating the space around them. If he had been a bit braver, he might have made a witty threat about not being afraid to singe some of the hairs on the Giant's beard, but his throat constricted, and no words would come out.

"Why are you doing this?" he heard Reyna say, and he realized they were back-to-back, him facing the Giant and her facing Nemesis.

"Well," Nemesis said. "I would say that it's nothing personal, but that's not true." She gestured to the Giant, who was standing eerily still in the growing darkness. "My ally here wished to get revenge on the demigods for his brothers' defeat. And I cannot turn down a good old-fashioned revenge tale."

"That's it?" Reyna spat. "Vengeance? You would help take the lives of your nephews, your nieces, your own children, just to help a Giant get revenge?"

Nemesis put her hand to her chin in a mocking thoughtful pose. "Yes," she said, a harsh smile on her face. "Though I think you misunderstand us gods on a very basic level, o daughter of destruction. We need to do what it takes to survive just like you do. Didn't Athena just give you her whole spiel about "finding strength in family," or whatever?

"How did you-"

Nemesis waved her hand dismissively. "She's spouted that to all of us, it's honestly gotten tiresome. But I'm much the same, you know. You know where I get my strength? From tearing down the proud and powerful. And right now, there are none that deserve tearing down more than your arrogant friends at Camp Half-Blood."

She shrugged. "So, you see, it's not really personal. I do what it takes to survive, including putting a curse on your camp."

"You put a curse on your own children?" Mason asked, a fire of anger in his voice as he turned his head to look at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She gave him an annoyed look. "My children are resolute, they need the challenge every once in a while. Besides, I am fair. Sentimentality will get you nowhere in this world."

Mason could have sworn there was an edge to her tone that seemed to hint that she was telling this to herself as much as she was them. The darkness closed in on them, now obscuring nearly everything around them aside from each other and the sidewalk under their feet.

"Anyway," she said, clapping her hands together. "I'm not cruel or stupid enough to kill you outright. So, I had my friend here cook up an extra-special way to make sure that curse stays put long enough. Isn't that right?" she said, leaning her head towards the Giant. The huge figure nodded once.

Mason realized that sometime in the last minute, his hand had become intertwined with Reyna's, their two hands holding each other tightly.

A place where all is forgotten.

Just as the words crept into Mason's mind and sent a shiver through him, he felt Reyna's hand slip from his as she lunged forward, her sword now held in her other hand. At the same time, he felt the ground give out from under him, his feet no longer planted on anything other than shadow. He had just enough time to look down before he felt himself falling, flailing for some kind of lifeline as he watched the dim light of the surface above grow distant. The flame of the Torch he still held fluttered furiously in the rush of air as he fell, the light growing fainter and fainter. The last thing he sensed was a hand held in his own, gripped tightly.

Then the fire went out, and his consciousness did the same.