.
Pandora gave Danny a look, and Danny immediately wished he hadn't asked the question.
"I mean," he said, trying to backpedal without backpedaling, "assuming they existed at all-" No, that was definitely the wrong thing to say, people got defensive over religious stuff. "-existed as ghosts, that is, and-"
"Phantom," said Pandora, cutting him off. "Danny. I'm not angry. Please, sit back down. I was merely... I had not expected the question, but now I see I should have."
Danny, who had begun to float several feet in the air, gingerly lowered himself back to the reclining couch (there was a word for it in Greek, but his Greek, as of yet, was sketchy). He picked up one of the pillows and hugged it to his chest.
"The gods..." She sighed and put her wine glass on the nearby table. "A ghost can rise to dizzying heights by riding the power of worship," she said. "Imagine it. Every sacrifice, every devotion, translated into something that kept the objects of them real and potent. And there would be hundreds of worshippers, alive and dead."
"There aren't, though," said Danny. "Not anymore. I mean, I know there are some neopagans out there, but..."
"Exactly," said Pandora, looking out into the distant sky of the Ghost Zone. "As high as they climbed, once they no longer had that faith, that worship bearing them upwards... They could no longer sustain themselves by their own will. They had grown too great." She looked at Danny. "You have more than a few cults, yourself."
Danny blinked. "I do?"
"You do. You have been... relatively wise about the power they grant you thus far. Be careful, that they do not swell you to the point beyond no return. Make sure your power is yours, and not dependent on others." She looked back at Danny. "I would not see Olympus fall again."
"I'll... keep that in mind," said Danny, feeling pale.