The situation back in America was just as bad as Alyss had been told. Within seconds of arriving at the demigods' camp right outside of Los Angeles, Alyss could smell smoke in the air. The distant sounds of burning, of destruction, of screaming resounded faintly on the wind. It was instinct to grab for her daggers, but her injured thumb screamed in protest and she drew her hand back instinctively. She hadn't tended to it properly - hadn't been able to, when just looking at it sent waves of grief through her - and she knew it was a hair's breadth from becoming infected.
As the Skandians arrived, Erak came up to Alyss, clapping her on the shoulder. "As we've arranged, lass, we'll stay on the outskirts of the camp until you've spoken to your leaders about where we can stay."
Alyss nodded. "Alright. I'll head off to see them."
The demigods' forces knew of the Skandians - Alyss was hardly about to spring that big of a surprise on them - and had accepted the Skandians' support in the fight with surprisingly little resistance given that they were technically monsters themselves. However, having a large number of once-enemies suddenly appear at camp during a time of war was something that needed to be treated with caution. They needed to be integrated into the camp carefully.
A distant explosion reverberated through the air and ground. Alyss' attention instantly went back to the city. She found herself clenching her hands in fury. They had - she had - already lost so much. She had already lost so much and yet the war continued. They had gained nothing. Nothing.
"My dear," came a familiar voice, pulling Alyss away from her thoughts, "I'm so glad to see you again."
Alyss turned. Warmth flooded through her and she felt her eyes begin to sting. "Lady Pauline," she breathed. "I-I am glad to see you, too." She dropped into a formal curtsey.
Pauline waved aside her words with an elegant hand, stepping closer to Alyss and taking Alyss' rough, battered hands into her own, smooth ones. "My child, there is no need for formalities with me. Come, we must speak about some important matters - and, later, some of your own as well, yes?"
Alyss looked away. She wasn't sure she could take talking about what had happened with Pauline. It was one thing to share bits and pieces with Cassandra, someone who had been through it with her. It was another entirely to share with someone who hadn't. How could you make anyone truly understand what you had been through, without them going through it as well?
"Let us deal with the matters at hand first," Alyss said, withdrawing her hands from Pauline's. "There is much to do."
Pauline was silent for a moment. Her calm, measured gaze settled onto Alyss, analyzing her in a way that was all too familiar. Alyss resisted the urge to fidget, knowing that would only make Pauline more worried.
"Indeed there is," Pauline agreed. "Yet we need not discard our souls when they are that which makes us different from our foes."
Alyss frowned at the subtle reproof. First Cassandra, now Pauline... She was not throwing away her humanity or her emotions just because she didn't want to talk about what had happened. There were in the middle of a war. They didn't have the time to cry. That would be for later - if later ever came.
"Of course not," Alyss responded diplomatically. "I need to speak with our leaders about the Skandians' arrival. Shall we go there now?"
Pauline released a breath, but ushered Alyss through the camp nonetheless. It was comprised of a number of different factions, Alyss saw, turning her head from side to side to take in everything. Foremost were the Rangers, easily identified by their cloaks. Groups - or rather, trios and duos - of them were interspersed throughout, training or eating or chatting with one another. She hesitated on seeing the first one, mouth half-opening to ask Pauline about Halt, but the thought that maybe Halt hadn't made it after all made Alyss shut her mouth. They passed a small group of Hunters as well, tending to the wolves they took to hunt with them. Other than that, a fair amount of regular demigods inhabited the camp, most older than Alyss. She spared a moment to hope, fervently, that all the demigods younger than she were safe and far from the fight.
Surprisingly, demigods were not the only beings in the camp. Although of course there were now Skandians, whom Alyss hoped would be, if not welcomed, at least accepted, there were other creatures as well. A few dozen naiads and oreads and dryads sat together on a small hill near the edge of camp, braiding each others' hair, growing plants, and flicking water into each others' eyes. A little farther away, satyrs frolicked amongst themselves, chasing a bunch of centaurs around in what appeared to be a game of tag.
"The command tent is up here," Pauline said, nodding her head towards a particularly large tent pitched near the center of the camp. The flaps were closed and no one was coming in or out of it. Was a meeting currently going on? Alyss and all the Skandians had left in the late afternoon, but with the time difference, it was barely mid-morning here.
Alyss realized they were drawing up close to the tent. "Is it alright for us to go inside?" she asked. "I don't want to disturb their meeting."
"Yes, it is quite alright," Pauline replied. "We've been expecting you. It would be ideal for the leader of those Skandians to be here as well, but you said they can't come into the camp yet?"
Alyss nodded, murmuring out an affirmation. "With the tensions between the Skandians and the demigods, we thought it best if we had everyone welcome them here personally. I was going to talk to all the leaders about that now."
"Good," Pauline said, "for I don't know how much longer our leaders would be willing to wait. Some of them are quite impatient." She gave a soft laugh, clearly designed to lighten the mood, but Alyss couldn't find it in herself to match it.
"Who are they?" Alyss asked, then winced. Her words were sorely lacking eloquence of late, she'd noticed. "These leaders you speak of, I mean."
They had neared the tent by now. Alyss spoke her last words right as they stood outside the tent itself, turning inquisitively towards Pauline. Pauline just smiled and pushed the tent flap open. "You can see for yourself, my dear."
Alyss brushed past Pauline, stepped inside, and froze.
Some of the most famous demigods of the time were there: Rodney, a famous son of Ares and Arald, a fellow child of Athena, for instance. The current Lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis was there, and even a satyr from the Council of Cloven Elders. But none of these were the reason she had halted. No - her eyes scarcely saw them, looking only to one person.
Crowley, the Ranger Commandant.
He had turned around as soon as Alyss had pushed back the tent flap, sensing movement in that uncanny way all Rangers did. For a long moment, Alyss stared him in the eye. All thoughts of etiquette, of politeness, of societal norms, flew clear out of her brain. The only thing she could think was that Will had been a part of Crowley's Corps. Will had been taken hostage and Crowley had done nothing. He had done worse than nothing; he had refused to let Halt and Gilan join her in tracking him down. And now Crowley stood there, alive and well, no worse for the wear, while Will-
A hand landed on her shoulder. "Deep breaths," Pauline's voice whispered into her ear. "It'll be alright, dear. Just breathe."
Alyss didn't want to breathe. She wanted Crowley to stop breathing - to trade his breaths for Will's. If she could trade a life for a life, if she could-
No. No. No. This isn't you, she told herself. This isn't right. You know it's not.
With great effort, Alyss forced her shuddering lungs to hold a breath for one count, two counts, three. She tore her eyes from Crowley, whose expression had turned confused and then concerned, and woodenly walked to a spot around the war table that was as far away from him as possible. She released the breath and took in another.
"This is Alyss Mainwaring, I presume?" came a voice. Alyss looked towards it to see Thalia, the Hunters' Lieutenant, speaking to Pauline. Despite having seen the Hunters many times, the image of a sixteen-year-old girl as the leader of an entire organization was always jarring to Alyss. Of course, Thalia was as old as the oldest of them in there by now - the same age as Halt and Ferris, actually. She had taken the oath to Artemis a few months before she'd turned sixteen, thus ensuring that the prophecy fell to Halt and Ferris.
"Yes," Alyss forced out, willing her voice to be steady, "I am."
"Alright then," Thalia said, running a hand through her black, spiky hair. "Wanna tell us what the situation is?"
The gazes of the entire war council swung to her. She swallowed, now anxious for an entirely different reason. But Pauline had taught her well, and she kept her expression calm and her voice steady as she began to speak.
"Several of us fell into Tartarus on March 3rd, or thereabouts - we were imprisoned before then and it was hard to keep track of the days. We spent several days down there and met Erak, the leader of the Skandians currently in this camp, during that time. Will-" she hesitated, "-and I convinced him to help us get out of Tartarus. Although he was not the main leader of the Skandians, he held enough sway with them to pull a large number of them to our side. We laid siege to the Doors of Death together and were successful."
There were contemplative nods and some furrowed brows around the table as different people processed what she had said. Alyss braced herself.
"You said you fell down there on March 3rd?" Rodney asked, frowning.
"I did. Is something the matter?"
"No, no, just..." Rodney paused, exchanging glances with several people around the table. "How long has it been since you escaped Tartarus?"
Alyss fought the urge to fidget. "About four days, a little less with the time difference."
The table fell silent. Growing more and more uneasy, Alyss looked at Pauline inquisitively, only to find that her mentor was frowning as well. Finally, Alyss ventured, "I can't guarantee that my dates are completely accurate - we were imprisoned after all - so if that is the problem..."
"No, no," Rodney said again, and again paused. "We aren't doubting the accuracy of your time measurements at all, my dear. It is just that we can finally verify the truth of a saying that is often bandied about by monsters and those who have been in Tartarus."
"Which is?"
"That time moves differently there than here. Quite differently. For, you see..." Rodney shifted his weight, running a hand over the pommel of his sword. "Today is March 7th."
Alyss blinked, trying her best not to react outwardly as she processed what he was saying. Today was only March 7th? But... for them to have fallen in on the 3rd, and then been out of Tartarus for four days...
"We spent days down there," Alyss got out. Her voice was shaky despite her best efforts. "We did. At least three, if not more."
Around the table there were grave nods.
"Few have ever fallen into Tartarus and made it out alive," Arald said, "but there is a story of one, years ago, who fell into Tartarus and made it out alive only a few days later - or so it seemed. He claimed until his dying breath that he had been in Tartarus for over a month."
Alyss shuddered. Mere days in Tartarus had been enough. She couldn't imagine being in there for more than a month - and alone. If she hadn't had Will and Cassandra and Horace, she very well might have gone insane.
"So we can now confirm that time in Tartarus moves differently from time up here," Crowley said. He flicked a wrist impatiently, as though that were the last thing he wanted to talk about. "Enough of that, though. The people you fell in there with. I know Will was one of them - one of my apprentices," he explained to the others around the table, "but who were the others?"
Swallowing, Alyss said, "Two other demigods. Cassandra, a daughter of Hestia, and Horace, a son of Ares."
"And these Skandians that you brought out of Tartarus, tell us about them. Why do you think we should trust them, especially to the extent of fighting alongside them against their own kin?"
"We have already fought alongside them against monsters in Tartarus," Alyss said. "They did not falter once, and we would not have made it out of Tartarus without them. They made invaluable allies in Tartarus; I see no reason why that should change now. We've already fought through hell together."
"But could they not have allied with you simply for the chance to get out of Tartarus?" Thalia asked. "Maybe their loyalty was just a facade to get them out. You could hardly blame them, after all - I'd take any chance I could to get out of there, too."
"Agreed," said Rodney, nodding. "What reason do we have to believe that they'll still remain loyal to our cause? After all, they are the ones who nearly destroyed Araluen just a few years ago."
"My strongest evidence is this: that Araluen's Princess has not only fought alongside them, but has actively befriended several of them."
Everyone in the room stared at her, taken aback. Summoning her courage, Alyss continued.
"Cassandra is the daughter of Hestia. But her father is King Duncan - a legacy of Zeus, and the King of Araluen. She still remembers having to flee Araluen for America, in order to be safe from the invaders. More than anyone else, Cassandra has no reason to love Skandians. Yet she is currently staying with them of her own accord in order to smooth things over with the demigods in the camp. If the Crown Princess of Araluen can trust these Skandians, surely you can as well?"
There was a considering silence for a few moments. Then Crowley broke it. "You raise a good point. However, that testimony is not enough for me. We can't afford to take any chances, not when we are in this stalemate."
Around the table, there were nodding heads.
"But," Crowley continued, when Alyss had opened her mouth to object, "it is an equally great risk to deny allies that could help us tip this war in our favor. I propose that we meet with their leader, this Erak, ourselves and decide then what we shall do with them. At the very least, they might serve as a distraction in our future battles. Is that agreeable?"
Alone out of everyone, Pauline looked pleased as she nodded. "It is."
Thalia and Rodney frowned but voiced similar assents, whereas Arald and the satyr Elder hesitated greatly before finally agreeing. The nature spirit leaders - the three leaders for the dryads, oreads, and naiads respectively - looked extremely displeased, but did not voice an opinion either way. The leader of the centaurs, a wild-looking centaur Alyss had never met, was the only one to actually say no, but from the indifference the vote was received with, it appeared he was not held in high regard.
"Very well. It is almost noon - we will take a short break, and then meet with the Skandians at noon. Where did you say they are camped at, Alyss?"
"They are on the outskirts of camp, to the south away from the city."
"Alright. We will meet up there in about an hour's time, at noon."
A low murmur of conversation started up after Crowley's last words, and the various people began to file out of the tent, talking amongst themselves. Alyss made to follow after Pauline, but a soft, "Miss Alyss," stopped her. She turned and came face-to-face with Crowley.
"I did not want to bring this up in front of the others," he said quietly, "but I need to ask. Where is Will? Halt told me that he fell into Tartarus with the rest of you, and I can't imagine he would've passed up on an opportunity to be in a war meeting. He's too curious for his own good," he added, with a chuckle.
Alyss' hands clenched into fists. Unbidden, her earlier fury came back. He had laughed. He had laughed. Will was dead, and he had laughed.
"He's not too curious for his own good," she snapped abruptly. Then, remembering herself, she hastily glanced around the tent, only to find that it was empty. The two of them were alone.
Crowley blinked, taken aback. "I meant that as a jest. I'm really quite fond of him; I've been wanting to see him for a while now."
"Clearly not much, or you would've let Halt and Gilan come with me when Will was first taken by the Temujai," Alyss said lowly. It was not often that Alyss was angry, and even less often that she showed it. Now, though, she didn't think she could have hidden it if she had tried.
Crowley's face saddened. "I wish I could have, but orders are orders. Apollo had just issued orders for us to guard Camp Half-Blood; if I had gone against them..."
"Halt did!"
"Halt nearly died," Crowley retorted sharply. Then he sighed, running a hand over his face. "You weren't there when Halt came back after... after Styx. It was..."
He trailed off, a haunted look on his face. Slowly, he shook his head again. "Halt is my best friend. I never want to see him like that again."
Alyss swallowed, the words cooling her anger for the moment. There it was: her confirmation that Halt had, indeed, broken a Stygian Oath in order to go after Will. For a Ranger, there was only one Stygian Oath it could be: the oath all Rangers took to Apollo when they were officially sworn into service. It was not just a matter of turning his back on the order he had served for decades; it was a matter of defying not just one, but two gods - and reaping the consequences of it.
And a Stygian Oath's consequences made their trip through Tartarus look like nothing.
"He... he was gravely injured when he fought with Ferris before the four of us fell into Tartarus," Alyss said haltingly. "Even before that, it wasn't hard to tell that there was something very wrong with him. Is he...?"
"He's alive," Crowley said, but his tone was grim, with none of the relief one would expect from such words. "He shadow-traveled into the middle of the council room at Camp Half-Blood while Chiron and I were having a meeting. He held conscious just long enough for us to force-feed him ambrosia, but I don't think it did any good. His heart stopped beating for almost ten seconds. We were sure he was a goner, but... out of the blue, it started beating again."
"What happened?"
Crowley sighed heavily. "Chiron will tell you that we don't know for certain, but it's obvious what it was. Styx was not willing to let him die. When his soul went to Thanatos, Styx intercepted it and brought it back to Halt's body."
Alyss did a double-take, brow wrinkling. "That's - that's allowed?"
"For most gods, no, but no god would try to stop Styx. Even Zeus is afraid of her."
"But why would Styx go to all that trouble?"
Crowley lifted a shoulder. "Who knows? Chiron would tell you there's no reason, that this is all freak coincidence, that Halt is a fighter who made it out alive through sheer will. But Styx is very old and has more than one friend who's a seer. I bet she foresaw more suffering in Halt's future and decided she would rather have him alive than dead, if simply to maximize his suffering."
Crowley sneered, glaring at the ground as though he wished he could personally murder it. "Do you know what the punishment for breaking a Stygian Oath is? She already stripped him of his immortality, his vitality, and was on her way to stripping him of his sanity. For gods, the punishment is 9 Great Years - 10 of our years - in Tartarus. I doubt Styx will be more merciful on Halt simply because he is mortal."
Alyss felt vaguely sick. "But killing Halt would give her an easy opportunity to bring him to Tartarus, so why..."
Crowley looked at her. "You seem like a smart girl. I think you can figure out why."
"Somehow, keeping him alive will be more painful than - than 90 years in Tartarus?"
"Not necessarily," he amended. "But I think she hopes it will be painful enough to delay that for a bit."
Alyss' lips pursed in sympathetic pain. He had gone through so much for Will, just for it to not have even mattered in the end.
And, speaking of Will...
"Is Halt here?"
She expected the answer to be no, but Crowley nodded yes, his expression telling her he was unhappy about it. "Unfortunately."
"Can you take me to him?"
Crowley hesitated, finally nodding and holding open the tent flaps for her to exit. He followed after her. "It's not pretty, but I figure after everything you've been through, you'll be able to take it."
"What happened?" she asked.
Crowley began to lead them through the camp at a brisk pace. As they passed by members of the camp, several Rangers called out greetings to their Commandant, while other demigods stared up at him in awe. After they had reached a quieter portion of camp, Crowley began speaking once more.
"Seeing Will fall into Tartarus... once Halt woke up and was able to move, it was all we could do to stop him from going back there and jumping in after him. We were able to convince him that he'd do no good falling down there in his condition, but when we tried to tell him that about fighting, he didn't listen. He's been on the battlefield several times now."
"He's able to fight?" Alyss asked, amazed.
"Not much," Crowley said, sighing. "Not in the state Styx left him in. The fact that he still hasn't died, despite how injured he is, just reinforces my theory that she's keeping him alive for something. The stab wound Ferris gave him has yet to fully heal, despite all the ambrosia and nectar he's taken in. And worst of all..."
He shook his head. "We're almost there. I'll let you see him yourself."
Indeed, as he spoke, they had reached a solitary tent pitched on the northern edge of the camp. It was set apart from the rest of the tents, with not even a campfire outside of it, and the flaps were closed and tied shut.
"Halt," Crowley called. "I'm coming in."
A muffled grumble came from inside the tent. Crowley stepped forward, untying the flaps and drawing them back to reveal the interior of the tent. It was small, furnished only with a few tools and other implements and a sleeping bag. It was on the sleeping bag that Halt was currently sitting, whetstone on his lap, sharpening one of his knives. He looked up, squinting in the glare from the noon-day sun.
"What's the matter now, Crowley?" he huffed, running his knife across the whetstone grumpily. "If you've come to lecture me again on-"
He paused, his eyes landing on Alyss. For a moment he only stared. Then the knife he was holding slipped out of his hands, clattering against the whetstone and probably stabbing him in the process. Halt ignored it entirely, shooting to his feet and take one, two, three steps towards her. His eyes were wide with disbelief and his hands were shaking.
"Will," he said, voice hoarse. "Where's Will?"
A/N: Where IS Will?