To 8Ball3- I thought metal arrows were cool, and they're definitely not the weirdest thing in the Riordanverse, so why not? XD Lou's a bad influence ^_^ I love that kidnapping line! That cracked me up, that did, it's perfect! XD She loves Frank, he's the only one that doesn't give her a headache. At the moment. And she's not good with the words, just go with it :P

To readingbooksforlife- I will propose, but I'm not getting you a ring. I'm getting something cooler, like a sword. Can I propose with a sword? :D And bless your cottons, thank you! ^_^

To Yesse2362- I don't, hence two Tyrant's Tombs ^_^


Reyna and Meg were waiting for him at the camp's front gates, though Apollo barely recognised the former. He had not really seen her out of uniform, taking a moment to soak in the blue running shoes, the skinny jeans, long-sleeved copper tee and a maroon cardigan. Her hair was pulled back in one of her usual neat braids, her face lightly brushed with make-up. She could have easily passed for one of the many thousands of Bay Area college students.

"What?" She asked him. He realised he had been staring, hurriedly looking away.

"Nothing." He mumbled. Meg snorted. She was dressed in her usual traffic light colours, with her gardening belt and a pink badge pinned to her collar with a stylised unicorn head with crossbones underneath.

"I do have civilian clothes." Reyna said, spreading her hands. "Even with the Mist helping to obscure things, walking through San Francisco in full legionnaire armour can attract some funny looks." She sighed, tapping her knuckle on her chin. "Not that it ever stopped Lou," she said, more to herself than them, "but still."

"No, yeah. You look great. I mean, good." Apollo silently cursed his stammering. "How is Lou?"

"Frank's babysitting her."

"Oh. OK. Can we go now?" He managed a wobbly smile. Reyna stuck two fingers in her mouth and let loose a taxi-cab whistle so shrill it cleared out his eustachian tubes. From inside the fort, her two metal greyhounds came running, barking like small-weapons fire. "Oh, good." Apollo said, trying to suppress his panic-and-run instinct. "Your dogs are coming."

"Of course." Reyna smirked. "They'd get upset if I drove to San Francisco without them."

"Drove?" Apollo echoed. He was about to ask 'In what?' when he heard a honk from the direction of the city. A battered bright red Chevy four-by-four rumbled down a road usually reserved for marching legionnaires and elephants. At the wheel was Hazel Levesque.

She pulled up next to them. The vehicle had barely stopped moving when the dogs leapt into the back of the trucks, metal tongues lolling and tails wagging.

Hazel climbed from the cab.

"All filled up, praetor."

"Thank you, centurion." Reyna smiled. "How are the driving lessons coming along?"

"Mm. Easier with Frank around, but I didn't hit anything today, so that's good!" Hazel grinned. She raised a finger before Reyna could speak, nodding deeply. "Yes, that includes Terminus."

"Progress." Reyna agreed. "You may even be ready for public roads soon." Apollo was only half-listening to the conversation. Where did they keep this truck? Where was the petrol station in New Rome? Why had he been walking so much if it was possible to drive?

Meg beat him to the real question:

"Do I get to ride in the back with the dogs?"

"No." Reyna replied like a stern big sister. "You will ride in the cab with your seat belt on."

"Aw." Meg pouted. She ran off to pet the dogs.

"Any word on the strike force?" Hazel asked.

"They left before dawn. Kahale felt good about it, but…" Reyna shrugged, as if to say the anti-yacht commando mission was now in the hands of the gods. As a former god, Apollo did not find that reassuring.

"The zombie pickets are ready. And if Tarquin's hordes come from the same direction as before, they're in for some nasty surprises. I also set traps along the other approaches to the city. Hopefully, we can stop them before they're in hand-to-hand range, so…" She hesitated, apparently unwilling to finish her sentence. Apollo thought he understood. So we don't have to see their faces. If the legion had to confront a wave of undead comrades, it would be much better to destroy them at a distance, without the anguish of having to recognise former friends.

Hazel cleared her throat. "I just wish…" She shook her head. "Well, I still worry Tarquin has something else planned. I should be able to figure it out, but…" She tapped her forehead as if she wanted to reset her brain. Apollo could sympathize.

"You've done plenty." Reyna assured. "If they throw surprises at us, we'll adapt." She turned to her travelling companions. "We're off." To Hazel: "Don't forget to stock the catapults."

"Of course."

"And-" Reyna stopped herself. "You know what you're doing. Sorry. Force of habit." Hazel smiled.

"Just bring us whatever we need to summon that godly help. We'll keep the camp in one piece until you get back." She studied Reyna's outfit, smile melting with concern. "Your sword's in the truck. Don't you want to take a shield or something?"

"Nah, I've got my cloak. It'll turn aside most weapons." Reyna brushed the collar of her cardigan. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape. "Don't tell Lou it does this. She keeps trying to steal it."

"That sounds about normal."

"She froze my socks to the ceiling." Reyna frowned slightly. Hazel didn't even bother stifling a laugh.

"Oh, that sounds more like the Louisa we know and love."

"I will kill her one of these days."

"I don't doubt that." Hazel's smile softened, losing a little of its humour and gaining her mother-hen-ness. "Be careful out there."

"You too." Reyna nodded. She climbed into the cab behind the wheel. "Meg!" She called. Meg pouted, patting the dogs one last time and then sliding down from the back of the truck. "Seat belt, young lady. And you, Apollo. Chop chop."


Frank had sent Louisa to catch up with the commando mission a few minutes after Reyna had left. It was easy for her to meet with the team, using the water to her advantage. She popped up beside their little boat, grabbing at Michael Kahale with a cold, dripping hand, and scaring him out of his skin.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." He grumbled, hand over his pounding heart. He was not alone in being spooked by her arrival, though the others were quicker to see the funny side. "Did Frank tell you the plan?"

"Yes. But that's your plan."

"You're going to run off and be a delinquent, aren't you?"

"What makes ya say that?"

"You literally do nothing else." He splashed her. Louisa's eyes gleamed- did he really want to start that fight?

But they had work to do.

She was glad to be back in the sea, senses alive and buzzing, the rushing in her ears dulled with the swish and pull of currents around her. Weariness did not tug so heavily at her eyes in the salt water; she felt useful here. She could sense fish and the seabed and underwater plant-life. She moved behind the boat, pulling the water around her and speeding up the progression. The Romans aboard clung to the sides, not used to this form of travel and still scarred from her training the day before.

Louisa easily halved their time. Within twenty minutes, she slowed again, peering over the boat and through the gaps between her fellow legionnaires.

"What is it?" Marcus asked, a little green, leaning over the edge in case breakfast came back up.

"We're close."

"Can you get us closer?" Kahale asked in a lowered voice. Louisa blinked at him, brow furrowing. He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know this is 'your turf', but can you get us closer without us being spotted and killed?"

"Your lack of faith is gonna get ya drowned, dude."

"I see you're feeling better." Mike sighed. "Alright, let's get this over with."


Their first challenge of the morning was merging onto the Bay Bridge. Getting out of Camp Jupiter had been no problem. A well-hidden dirt road led from the valley up into the hills, eventually depositing them onto the residential streets of East Oakland. From there, they took the Highway 24 until it merged with Interstate 580. Then it got really interesting.

The morning commuters had apparently not got word that they were on a vital mission to save the greater metropolitan area. They stubbornly refused to get out of the way. Reyna tapped her fingers on the wheel, mumbling along to Tego Calderón lyrics on the ancient CD player. Under any other circumstances, Apollo would have enjoyed the reggaeton and sung along. Today, he found it a bit too preppy for his pre-combat jitters.

Meg sat between them, rummaging through the seeds in her belt. During their battle in the tomb, lots of packages had opened and mixed together. Now, she was trying to figure out which seeds were which. This meant she would occasionally hold up a seed and stare at it until it burst into its mature form- dandelion, tomato, aubergine, sunflower. It wasn't long until the cab smelled like a garden centre.

He had not told Meg about seeing Peaches. He wasn't even sure how to start the conversation. Hey, did you know your karpos is holding clandestine meetings with the fauns and crabgrasses in People's Park? The longer he waited to say something, the harder it became. He told himself it wasn't a good idea to distract Meg during an important quest. He wanted to honour Lavinia's wishes that he did not blab. He hadn't seen Lavinia that morning before they left, but maybe her plans weren't as nefarious as he feared. Maybe she wasn't actually halfway to Oregon by now.

In reality, he did not speak because he was a coward. He was afraid to enrage the two dangerous young women he rode with, one of whom could have him ripped apart by a pair of metal greyhounds while the other could make cabbages grow out of his nose.

They inched their way across the bridge, Reyna finger-tapping to the beat of 'El Que Sabe, Sabe'. He who knows, knows.

"When we get there," she said, "we'll have to park at the base of the hill and hike up. The area around Sutro Tower is restricted."

"You've decided the tower itself is our target." Apollo noted. "Not Mount Sutro behind it?"

"Can't be sure, obviously. But I double-checked Thalia's list of trouble spots. The tower was on there." Apollo waited for her to elaborate, but she had returned to finger-tapping.

"Um, Thalia's what?"

"Huh? Didn't I tell you about that?" Apollo shook his head. Reyna gave another little 'huh' at the lapse in memory. "Well, Thalia and the Hunters of Artemis, you know, they keep a running list of places where they've seen unusual monstrous activity; stuff they can't quite explain. Sutro Tower is one of them. Thalia sent me her list of locations for the Bay Area so Camp Jupiter could keep an eye on them."

"How many trouble spots?" Meg asked. "Can we visit all of them?"

"Oh, you sound like Lou." Reyna nudged her playfully. "I like your spirit, Killer, but there are dozens in San Francisco alone. We- I mean the legion- we try to keep an eye on them all, but it's a lot. Especially recently…" With the battles, Apollo thought, silently finishing her sentence. And the deaths.

He wondered about the small hesitation in Reyna's voice when she said we and then clarified that she meant the legion. He wondered what other 'we's Reyna felt part of. Her and Louisa? That was the obvious choice. He had never imagined Reyna in civilian clothes, driving a battered pickup truck and taking her metal greyhounds for a hike. And she had been in touch with Thalia Grace, his sister's lieutenant, leader of the Hunters of Artemis. He wasn't sure which side of that thought made him feel more jealous.

"How do you know Thalia?" He asked, doing his utmost to sound nonchalant. Judging from Meg's cross-eyed look, he had failed miserably. Reyna didn't seem to notice, changing lanes and trying to make headway through the traffic. In the back, her dogs barked with joy, thrilling in the adventure.

"Thalia and I fought Orion together in Puerto Rico." She said. "The Amazons and the Hunters both lost a lot of good women. That sort of thing… shared experience… anyway, yeah, we've kept in touch."

"How? The communication lines are all down."

"Letters."

"Letters?" Apollo seemed to remember those, back from around the days of vellum and wax seals. "You mean when you write something by hand on paper, put it in an envelope, stick a stamp on it-"

"And mail it. Right. I mean, it can be weeks or months between letters, but Thalia's a good pen pal." Apollo tried to compute that. Many descriptions came to mind when he thought of Thalia Grace. Pen pal was not one of them.

"Where do you even mail the letters to?" He asked. "The Hunters are constantly on the move."

"They have a PO box in Wyoming and- why are we talking about this?"

Meg pinched a seed between her fingers. A geranium exploded into bloom.

"Is that where your dogs went? Searching for Thalia?"

"Just after you arrived," Reyna said carefully, "I wrote to Thalia about… you know, Jason being an idiot. I knew it was a long shot that she'd get the message, so I sent Aurum and Argentum out looking for her too, in case the Hunters were in the area. I figured if Lou didn't scare him into behaving, his big sister would." She shook her head with a sigh. "No luck." Apollo tried to imagine what could happen if Thalia received Reyna's letter. Would she come charging into Camp Jupiter at the head of the Hunters, ready to help them fight? Or would she march to her brother's school and give him what for? For Jason's sake, Apollo was thankful for the slowness of the US postal service.


Louisa made a mental note to get Kahale back after all this- how dare he doubt her skills in her own element? He was going to get something very unpleasant in his bed. Maybe Jason's head- two birds, one stone.

She had pulled the boat underwater, cocooning them in a bubble and pushing them onwards. White lines of yachts soon appeared, breaking through the water, great shadows looming over the waves. More of them just kept coming. She could sense the unease in the boat, but kept going.

They did not target the lead boat first. They had to disable as many of the weapons as they could. Louisa took them to the far left ship. With a twist of her hands, she raised the boat on a whirlpool, listening for any guards. She heard shuffling and left the boat suspended about twenty feet below, rising on her own to peek over the edge. Two human guards were playing cards just out of arm's reach. They didn't see her.

She cocked her head, letting the rushing come back, just a little. Legacies of some kind. She raised her hand, palm flat and facing downwards. She pushed it down slowly, feeling pressure against her palm. The guards slumped, cards slipping from their fingers, and began to snore.

Dropping the others off was easy. She had to discard the boat once they were gone, sinking it with another mental note to recover it later. If there was a later.

The legionnaires knew what they were doing. Louisa dived back into the sea, letting her water tower slosh back into its home. She could move faster without the boat, crossing under the line of yachts in under three seconds. She was aiming for the furthest right ship, stopping below its hull and touching the metal surface. Ships were part of her thing- preferably older, more traditional ships rather than the modern day thrum of technology and metal, but it was something she could work with. She could sense the layout out of the yacht, where its passengers were, various rooms and… aha. That felt like a giant, deadly weapon she was going to doom.

She pressed her other hand to the hull, biting the inside of her cheek. No longer could she count how many arguments she had had with her father about sinking ships and the resultant pollution. Today, things were a bit different.

Water swilled around her, coiling and coiling, winding around her like a spring ready to snap. The force bristled against her arms, yearning to be released. She raised her palms from the hull a fraction, making a harsh shoving motion. The coiled water responded hungrily. It caved in the hull, splitting a dark ragged line through the metal and rushing in to fill and widen the gap. Louisa went with it, letting the force carry her, pushing her way to the top and finding stairs upwards. Alarms were already blaring at the breach. She was out the door and down the hall before the first of the guards' footsteps even began to sound.


They were past Treasure Island now, the anchor of the Bay Bridge midway between Oakland and San Francisco. Apollo's thoughts strayed to Caligula's fleet. It would be passing this island later tonight, ready to unload its troops and, if necessary, its arsenal of Greek firebombs on the unsuspecting East Bay.

He tried to centre his thoughts, move back to their conversation.

"So," he said, "you and Thalia-"

"Just friends." Reyna stared at him sidelong. "Are you forgetting about Lou? She's kind of hard to forget about, she's not very quiet."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Honestly, if I had a denarius for every time I got asked that question… aside from the fact that Thalia is in the Hunters and sworn to celibacy. Why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance? Thalia's an excellent friend, I wouldn't risk messing that up, and- again- I have Lou."

"Maybe people want their praetor with a child of Jupiter than a child of Neptune." Meg said, narrowing her eyes at the rose blooming in her hand.

"Zeus." Reyna corrected. "Thalia's Greek." She sighed. "That is a good point though. Not going to happen, but a good point."

"Um…" Apollo started.

"Ooh!" Meg brightened. "I love this song, turn it up!" He doubted she had any interest in the song, but her interruption may have saved his life. Reyna cranked the volume up, thus ending his attempt at death by casual conversation.

They stayed silent the rest of the way into the city, listening to Tego Calderón singing 'Punto y Aparte' and Reyna's greyhounds jubilantly barking like semi-automatic clips discharged on New Year's Eve.