Disclaimer: I don't own PJO. Thanks to everyone who's following this story. Can you believe it's the last book?

Chapter One

I Blow Up A Demonic Cruise Ship

The apocalypse began when a pegasus landed on the hood of Rachel's car.

It was a good car, of course. Being millionaires, the Dares only got the best. But it was a convertible Jeep rather than the Audi Rachel's father, William, had originally offered her. I figured he'd probably be pretty pissed off by the hoofprints now imbedded in the hood.

Considering all of the stress and upset he caused Rachel, the thought gave me a vicious sense of satisfaction that quickly disappeared as I took in the grave expression on Beckendorf's face.

Beckendorf was dressed for combat. He wore a bronze breastplate and war helm with black camo pants and a sword strapped to his side. His explosives bag was slung over his shoulder.

"It's time?" I confirmed my suspicion.

He nodded grimly. "We've gotta go now, or we'll be too late."

I turned to Rachel, giving her an apologetic look. "Sorry," I said genuinely. I really meant it too. Rachel was my escape from the stress and responsibilities I had in the Greek world. I hated when we were interrupted by my 'real' life problems.

Though disappointment glinted in her emerald eyes, Rachel shrugged. She was easy-going like that.

"Don't worry about it," she urged me. "Just go and save the world. IM me or something to say how it went."

"Will do," I agreed, sliding out of the car and climbing up onto Blackjack.

"Hey Boss-Lady!" my beloved pegasus greeted me cheerfully. "Ready to go kick some monster ass?"

"Always," I chuckled, patting his neck. "Let's go, Blackjack."

We took off over the Atlantic, and my last sight of Rachel was of her leaning back in her seat, watching us go with her arms crossed over her chest.

It was almost dark by the time we spotted our target. The Princess Andromeda glowed on the horizon—a huge cruise ship lit up yellow and white. From a distance, you'd think it was just a party ship, not the headquarters for the Titan lord's army. Then as you got closer, you might notice the giant figurehead—a dark-haired maiden in a Greek chiton, wrapped in chains with a look of horror on her face, as if she could smell the stench of all the monsters she was being forced to carry.

Seeing the ship again twisted my stomach into knots. I'd almost died twice on the Princess Andromeda. Now it was heading straight for New York.

"You know what to do?" Beckendorf yelled over the wind.

I nodded. We'd done dry runs at the dockyards in New Jersey, using abandoned ships as our targets. I knew how little time we would have. But I also knew this was our best chance to end Kronos' invasion before it ever started. Our only chance.

"Blackjack," I said, "set us down on the lowest stern deck."

"Gotcha, Boss-Lady," he agreed. "Man, I hate seeing that boat."

I gave him an understanding pat. Three years ago, Blackjack had been enslaved on the Princess Andromeda until he'd escaped with a little help from my friends and me. I figured he'd rather have his mane braided like My Little Pony than be back here again.

"Don't wait for us," I told him.

"But,—"

"Trust me," I insisted. "We'll get out by ourselves." I couldn't risk him being hurt. I loved him too much.

Blackjack folded his wings and plummeted toward the boat like a black comet. The wind whistled in my ears. I saw monsters patrolling the upper decks of the ship—dracaenae snake-women, hellhounds, giants, and the humanoid seal-demons known as telkhines—but we zipped by so fast, none of them raised the alarm. We shot down the stern of the boat, and Blackjack spread his wings, lightly coming to a landing on the lowest deck. I climbed off, feeling queasy.

"Good luck, Boss-Lady," Blackjack said. "Don't let 'em turn you into horse meat!"

With that, my old friend flew off into the night. I took my pin out of my hair and twisted the emerald, making Anaklusmos spring to full size—three feet of deadly Celestial bronze glowing gently in the dusk.

Beckendorf pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. For a second I thought it was a map or something. Then I realized it was a photograph. He stared at it in the dim light—the smiling face of Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite and one of my closest friends. They'd started going out last summer, after years of the rest of us teasing them about their blatant crushes. Even with all the dangerous missions, Beckendorf had been happier this year than I'd ever seen him.

"We'll make it back to camp," I promised. We had to.

For a second I saw worry in his eyes. Then he put on his usual confident smile.

"You bet," he agreed. "Let's go blow Kronos back into a million pieces."

Beckendorf led the way. We followed a narrow corridor to the service stairwell, just like we'd practiced, but we froze when we heard noises above us.

"I don't care what your nose says!" snarled a half-human, half-dog voice—a telkhine. "The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meat loaf sandwich!"

"Meat loaf sandwiches are good!" a second voice snarled. "But this is half-blood scent, I swear. They are on board!"

"Bah, your brain isn't on board!"

They continued to argue, and Beckendorf pointed downstairs. We descended as quietly as we could. Two floors down, the voices of the telkhines started to fade.

Finally we came to a metal hatch. Beckendorf mouthed the words "engine room," to me.

It was locked, but Beckendorf pulled some chain cutters out of his bag and split the bolt like it was made of butter.

Inside, a row of yellow turbines the size of grain silos churned and hummed. Pressure gauges and computer terminals lined the opposite wall. A telkhine was hunched over a console, but he was so involved with his work, he didn't notice us. He was about five feet tall, with slick black seal fur and stubby little feet. He had the head of a Doberman, but his clawed hands were almost human. He growled and muttered as he tapped on his keyboard. Maybe he was messaging his friends on .

I stepped forward, and he tensed, probably smelling something was wrong. He leaped sideways toward a big red alarm button, but I blocked his path. He hissed and lunged at me, but one slash of Anaklusmos, and he exploded into dust.

"One down," Beckendorf stated. "About five thousand to go." He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid—Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. Then he threw me another essential tool of demigods—duct tape.

"Slap that one on the console," he ordered. "I'll get the turbines."

We went to work. The room was hot and humid, and we were quickly drenched in sweat. Beckendorf was managing, a beneficial side-effect of spending hours at a time in the forges, but I was starting to feel faint from the heat.

The boat kept chugging along. Being the daughter of Poseidon, I have perfect bearings at sea. Don't ask me how, but I could tell we were at 40.19° North, 71.90° West, making eighteen knots, which meant the ship would arrive in New York Harbour by dawn. This would be our only chance to stop it.

I had just attached a second jar of Greek fire to the control panels when I heard the pounding of feet on metal steps—so many creatures coming down the stairwell I could hear them over the engines. Not a good sign.

I locked eyes with Beckendorf. "How much longer?"

"Too long." He tapped his watch, which was our remote control detonator. "I still have to wire the receiver and prime the charges. Ten more minutes at least."

Judging from the sound of the footsteps, we had about ten seconds. I made a split-second decision and summoned my sword again.

"I'll distract them," I announced quickly. "Meet you at the rendezvous point."

"Ana—"

"I'd tell you to wish me luck, but we both know I'm too good to need it."

He looked like he wanted to argue. The whole idea had been to get in and out without being spotted. But we were going to have to improvise.

"Good luck," he said anyway, despite my cocky claim that was more like something Luke would say then me.

I charged out the door.

A half dozen telkhines were tromping down the stairs. I cut through them faster than they could yelp. I kept climbing—past another telkhine, who was so startled he dropped his Lil' Demons lunch box. I left him alive so he could raise the alarm and hopefully get his friends to follow me rather than head toward the engine room.

I burst through a door onto deck six and kept running. I'm sure the carpeted hall had once been very plush, but over the last three years of monster occupation the wallpaper, carpet, and stateroom doors had been clawed up and slimed so it looked like the inside of a dragon's throat (and yes, unfortunately, I speak from experience).

Back on my first visit to the Princess Andromeda, my old enemies Ethan and Annabeth had kept some dazed tourists on board for show, shrouded in Mist so they didn't realize they were on a monster-infested ship. Now I didn't see any sign of tourists. My stomach churned when I thought about what had happened to them, since I doubted they'd been allowed to go home with their bingo winnings.

I reached the promenade, a big shopping mall that took up the whole middle of the ship, and I stopped cold. In the middle of the courtyard stood a fountain. And in the fountain squatted a giant crab.

I'm not talking "giant" like $7.99 all-you-can-eat Alaskan king crab. I'm talking giant like bigger than the fountain. The monster rose ten feet out of the water. Its shell was mottled blue and green, its pincers longer than my body.

If you've ever seen a crab's mouth, all foamy and gross with whiskers and snapping bits, you can imagine this one didn't look any better blown up to billboard size. Its beady black eyes glared at me, and I could see intelligence in them—and hate. The fact that I was the daughter of the sea god was not going to win me any points with Mr. Crabby. It might've even made things worse, a situation that occurred far more than I wished.

"FFFFffffff," it hissed, sea foam dripping from its mouth. The smell coming off it was like a garbage can full of fish sticks that had been sitting in the sun all week.

Alarms blared. Soon I was going to have lots of company and I had to keep moving.

"Hey there, crabby." I inched around the edge of the courtyard. "I'm just gonna scoot around you so—"

The crab moved with amazing speed. It scuttled out of the fountain and came straight at me, pincers snapping. I dove into a gift shop, ploughing through a rack of T-shirts. A crab pincer smashed the glass walls to pieces and raked across the room. I dashed back outside, breathing heavily, but Mr. Crabby turned and followed.

"There!" a voice called from a balcony above me. "Intruder!"

"Θεοί βλασφημίες όλα!" I snarled a curse under my breath.

If I'd wanted to create a distraction, I'd succeeded, but this was not where I wanted to fight. If I got pinned down in the centre of the ship, I was crab chow at best.

The demonic crustacean lunged at me. I sliced with Anaklusmos, taking off the tip of its claw. It hissed and foamed, but didn't seem hurt.

I tried to remember anything from the old stories that might help with this thing. I'd read something about a monster crab before—something about Hercules crushing it under his foot? That wasn't going to work here. This crab was slightly bigger than my Converse. Not to mention I hate being linked to that asshole by copying his techniques.

Then a weird thought occurred to me. Last December, I had visited Silena and her dad, Evan. We'd gone to a fancy seafood restaurant, and he'd shown us how crabs have a chink in their armour, right in the middle of their ugly bellies.

The only problem was getting to the ugly belly.

I glanced at the fountain, then at the marble floor, already slick from scuttling crab tracks. I held out my hand, concentrating on the water, and the fountain exploded. Water sprayed everywhere, three stories high, dousing the balconies and the elevators and the windows of the shops. The crab didn't care. It loved water. It came at me sideways, snapping and hissing, and I ran straight at it, screaming, "FUCKING HELL!" at the top of my lungs.

Just before we collided, I hit the ground baseball-style and slid on the wet marble floor straight under the creature. It was like sliding under a seven-ton armoured vehicle. All the crab had to do was sit and squash me, but before it realized what was going on, I jabbed Anaklusmos into the chink in its armour, let go of the hilt, and pushed myself out the backside.

The monster shuddered and hissed. Its eyes dissolved. Its shell turned bright red as its insides evaporated. The empty shell clattered to the floor in a massive heap.

I didn't have time to admire my handiwork. I ran for the nearest stairs while all around me monsters and demigods shouted orders and strapped on their weapons. It was a dangerous situation considering the fact that I was unarmed. My sword would return sooner or later, but for now it was stuck somewhere under the wreckage of the crab, and I had no time to retrieve it.

I was decent with unarmed combat (actually, only the Ares children beat me at it), but being unarmed against heavily armed and armoured foes was a precarious place to be. Both of my knives had been lost when I was trying to lure the monsters away from the engine room.

In the elevator foyer on deck eight, a couple of dracaenae slithered across my path. They held spears and weighted nets, and I knew from experience they could use them.

"What isss thisss?" one hissed. "A prize for Kronosss!"

I wasn't in the mood to play break-the-snake, but in front of me was a stand with a model of the ship, like a YOU ARE HERE display. I ripped the model off the pedestal and hurled it at the first dracaena. The boat smacked her in the face and she went down with the ship. I jumped over her, grabbed her friend's spear, and swung her around. She slammed into the elevator, and I kept running toward the front of the ship.

"Get her!" she screamed.

Hellhounds bayed. An arrow from somewhere whizzed past my face and impaled itself in the mahogany-panelled wall of the stairwell.

"γαμώ!" I grumbled under my breath. But I didn't really care how many enemies I had to fight, as long as I kept the monsters away from the engine room and gave Beckendorf more time.

As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down. He looked like he'd just woken up from a nap. His armour was half on and his hair and clothes were rumpled. He drew his sword and yelled, "Kronos!" but he sounded more scared than angry. He couldn't have been more than twelve—about the same age I was when I'd first arrived at Camp Half-Blood.

That thought depressed me. This kid was getting brainwashed—trained to hate the gods and lash out because he'd been born half-Olympian. Kronos was using him, and yet the kid thought I was his enemy.

No way was I going to hurt him. I didn't need a weapon for this. I stepped inside his strike and grabbed his wrist, slamming it against the wall. His sword clattered out of his hand.

Then I did something I hadn't planned on. It was probably stupid. It definitely jeopardized our mission, but I couldn't help it. Monsters were different, they always came back. Demigods didn't. Killing a half-blood was murder, and I wasn't that awful a person. Not yet anyway.

"If you want to live," I told him, "get off this ship now. Tell the other demigods." Then I shoved him down the stairs and sent him tumbling to the next floor.

I kept climbing.

Bad memories: a hallway ran past the cafeteria. Luke, Tyson, and I had sneaked through here three years ago on my first visit.

I burst outside onto the main deck. Off the port bow, the sky was darkening from purple to black. A swimming pool glowed between two glass towers with more balconies and restaurant decks. The whole upper ship seemed eerily deserted.

All I had to do was cross to the other side. Then I could take the staircase down to the helipad—our emergency rendezvous point. With any luck, Beckendorf would meet me there. We'd jump into the sea. My water powers would protect us both, and we'd detonate the charges from a quarter mile away.

I was halfway across the deck when the sound of a voice made me freeze. "You're late, Ana."

Ethan stood on the balcony above me, a smile on his scarred face. He wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops, like he was just a normal college-age guy, but his eyes told the truth. They were solid gold.

Annabeth was hanging off his arm. Unlike Ethan/Kronos, she was dressed in an Ancient Greek-styled chiton that reached to her ankles, a pair of lace-up gold sandals studded with rubies, a ruby-and-gold necklace, bracelet and earrings. Her hair was done in an elaborate updo held in place with a gold circlet. Her eyes were a piercing silver, and her expression was cold. Themis, Titaness of divine law, order and customs. I'd seen Ethan/Kronos once, just after his resurrection. But this was the first time that I'd seen Themis.

"We've been expecting you for days." At first he sounded normal, like Ethan. But then his face twitched. A shudder passed through his body as though he'd just drunk something really nasty. His voice became heavier, ancient, and powerful—the voice of the Titan lord Kronos. The words scraped down my spine like a knife blade. "Come, bow before me."

"Yeah, that'll happen," I muttered.

Laistrygonian giants filed in on either side of the swimming pool as if they'd been waiting for a cue. Each was eight feet tall with tattooed arms, leather armour, and spiked clubs. Demigod archers appeared on the roof above the titans. Two hellhounds leaped down from the opposite balcony and snarled at me. Within seconds I was surrounded. A trap: there's no way they could've gotten into position so fast unless they'd known I was coming.

"You dare speak so insolently to the Lord of the Titans!" Themis snarled. Like with Ethan/Kronos, her voice was a strange mixture of Annabeth's and something more ancient and evil.

"Yes," I stated flatly. Respect towards immortals had never been my strong point, nor had controlling my temper. And right now I was furious. A traitor in Camp Half-Blood. It was the only explanation, and it enraged me to think that anybody would dare to pretend to be our friend, while helping the Titans murder us all.

Themis snarled and began to open her mouth to snap at me, but Kronos stopped her, patting her arm with a cold smirk.

"Hush, my love. I'm sure that the girl means no disrespect."

I scoffed at that, glowering up at them with all the hatred I muster. A voice in my head whispered to me: I have to fight him eventually. Why not now?

According to the Great Prophecy, I was supposed to make a choice that saved or destroyed the world when I was sixteen. That was only seven days away. Why not now? If I really had the power, what difference would a week make? I could end this threat right here by taking down Kronos. Nobody else had to die, except maybe me, and that was an acceptable sacrifice.

As if reading my thoughts, Ethan smiled. No, he was Kronos. I had to remember that.

"Come forward my dear," he said, voice almost a purr. "If you dare."

Themis chuckled darkly, releasing her husband's arm and stepping way. The crowd of monsters parted. I moved up the stairs, my heart pounding. I was sure somebody would stab me in the back, but they let me pass. I felt my hair and found my pin waiting. I twisted the jewel, and Anaklusmos grew into a sword.

Kronos' weapon appeared in his hands—a six-foot-long scythe, half Celestial bronze, half mortal steel. Just looking at the thing made my stomach churn in revulsion. But before I could change my mind, I charged.

Time slowed down. I mean literally slowed down, because Kronos had that power. I felt like I was moving through syrup. My arms were so heavy, I could barely raise my sword. Kronos smiled, swirling his scythe at normal speed and waiting for me to creep toward my death.

I tried to fight his magic. I concentrated on the sea around me—the source of my power. I'd gotten better at channelling it over the years, but now nothing seemed to happen.

I took another slow step forward. Giants jeered. Dracaenae hissed with laughter. Themis laughed coldly, eyes glinting maliciously. For a deity of law, she didn't seem particularly concerned with fairness. Not that gods ever really were when it came to half-bloods.

Hey, ocean, I pleaded silently. Any second now would be good. Really good.

Suddenly there was a wrenching pain in my gut. The entire boat lurched sideways, throwing monsters off their feet. Four thousand gallons of salt water surged out of the swimming pool, dousing me and Kronos and everyone on the deck. Themis shrieked in fury.

The water revitalized me, breaking the time spell, and I lunged forward.

I struck at Kronos, but I was still too slow. Ethan had once been a human, and the thought of becoming a murderer repulsed me, even if it was my enemy for years.

Kronos had no such hesitation. He sliced downward with his scythe. I leaped back, and the evil blade missed by an inch, cutting a gash in the deck right between my feet.

I kicked Kronos in the chest. He stumbled backward, but he was heavier than he should've been. It was like kicking a boulder.

Kronos swung his scythe again. I intercepted with Anaklusmos, but his strike was so powerful, my blade could only deflect it. I could feel the shock of the attack echoing down my arm. The edge of the scythe shaved off my shirtsleeve and grazed my arm. It shouldn't have been a serious cut, but the entire side of my body exploded with pain.

I remembered what a sea demon had once said about Kronos' scythe: Careful, fool. One touch, and the blade will sever your soul from your body. Now I understood what he meant. I wasn't just losing blood. I could feel my strength, my will, my identity draining away.

Terrified, I stumbled backward, switched my sword to my left hand, and lunged desperately. My blade should've run him through, but it deflected off his stomach like I was hitting solid marble. There was no way he should've survived that.

Kronos laughed. "A poor performance, Anaea Jackson. Ethan tells me you were never his match at swordplay."

"According to Annabeth, she always thought more highly of herself than true," Themis added idly, from where she stood watching the scene indifferently.

My vision started to blur. I knew I didn't have much time. "Ethan had a big head," I croaked. "But at least it was his head. And Annabeth could never see her hand in front of her face if she didn't want to acknowledge it."

"A shame to kill you now," Kronos mused, "before the final plan unfolds. I would love to see the terror in your eyes when you realize how I will destroy Olympus."

"It will be very amusing," Themis agreed. "Perhaps we ought to keep her alive long enough to witness her worst fear come to life. A fitting punishment for her defiance towards us."

"You'll never get this boat to Manhattan." My arm was throbbing. Black spots danced in my vision.

"And why would that be?" Kronos's golden eyes glittered. His face—Ethan's face—seemed like a mask, unnatural and lit from behind by some evil power. "Perhaps you are counting on your friend with the explosives?"

I had never felt so horrified in my life than when he said those awful words.

He looked down at the pool and called, "Torrington!"

A teenage guy in full Greek armour pushed through the crowd. He held a short staff in his left hand, and runes covered his armour. I knew him, of course: Alabaster Torrington, son of Hecate. I'd saved his life in the Labyrinth last summer, and in return, the son of a bitch had helped Kronos come back to life.

"Success, my lord," Torrington called. "We found him just as we were told."

He clapped his hands, and two giants lumbered forward, dragging Charles Beckendorf between them. My heart almost stopped. Beckendorf had a swollen eye and cuts all over his face and arms. His armour was gone and his shirt was nearly torn off.

"No!" I yelled. Oh gods, please no. Please, have mercy.

Beckendorf met my eyes. He glanced at his hand like he was trying to tell me something. His watch. They hadn't taken it yet, and that was the detonator. Was it possible the explosives were armed? Surely the monsters would've dismantled them right away.

"We found him amidships," one of the giants reported, "trying to sneak to the engine room. Can we eat him now?"

"Soon." Kronos scowled at Alabaster. "Are you sure he didn't set the explosives?"

"He was going toward the engine room, my lord."

"How do you know that?"

"Er . . ." Alabaster shifted uncomfortably. "He was heading in that direction. And he told us. His bag is still full of explosives."

Slowly, I began to understand. Beckendorf had fooled them. When he'd realized he was going to be captured, he turned to make it look like he was going the other way. He'd convinced them he hadn't made it to the engine room yet. The Greek fire might still be primed! But that didn't do us any good unless we could get off the ship and detonate it.

I struggled to think of a solution. But with all of the monsters surrounding us, the two titans, and our injuries, I couldn't see how to get to Beckendorf and escape.

Kronos hesitated.

Buy the story, I prayed. The pain in my arm was so bad now I could barely stand.

"Open his bag," Kronos ordered. My heart sank in dismay.

One of the giants ripped the explosives satchel from Beckendorf's shoulders. He peered inside, grunted, and turned it upside down. Panicked monsters surged backward. If the bag really had been full of Greek fire jars, we would've all blown up. But what fell out were a dozen cans of peaches.

I could hear Kronos breathing, trying to control his anger.

"Did you, perhaps," he said, "capture this demigod near the galley?"

Torrington turned pale. "Um—"

"And did you, perhaps, send someone to actually CHECK THE ENGINE ROOM?"

Torrington scrambled back in terror, then turned on his heels and ran.

"Incompetent fool," Themis snapped. "Were it not for Hecate's favour towards him, I'd strike him down right now. Nevertheless." She turned to the two giants and snapped her fingers. They dissolved into dust. Before Beckendorf could make a move, three dracenae had surrounded him, tridents pointed towards his throat.

I cursed silently. Now we had only minutes before the bombs were disarmed. I caught Beckendorf's eyes again and asked a silent question, hoping he would understand: How long?

He cupped his fingers and thumb, making a circle. Zero. There was no delay on the timer at all. If he managed to press the detonator button, the ship would blow at once. We'd never be able to get far enough away before using it. The monsters would kill us first, or disarm the explosives, or both.

Kronos turned toward me with a crooked smile. "You'll have to excuse my incompetent help, Ana Jackson. But it doesn't matter. We have you now. We've known you were coming for weeks."

He held out his hand and dangled a little silver bracelet with a scythe charm—the Titan lord's symbol.

The wound in my arm was sapping my ability to think, but I muttered, "Communication device . . . spy at camp."

Kronos chuckled.

"It's foolish of you to be so trusting," Themis said idly. "People will always betray you, even those who claim to love you. Annabeth learned that lesson the hard way. But your naivety had been a great help for our cause."

I swallowed. The dracenae still had their weapons pointed at Beckendorf's neck. I was in no shape to rescue him, and even if I tried, he would die before I got there. We both would.

Beckendorf mouthed one word: Go.

I shook my head. I couldn't just leave him. This was Beckendorf! The guy who'd been one of the few who hadn't been intimidated by the tiny twelve-year-old with the fragile control over her enormous power. He'd been one of my closest friends for years. He was the love of Silena's life. I couldn't just abandon him. There had to be another way.

Although the weapons were at his neck, Beckendorf's left arm was free. He raised it slowly—toward the watch on his right wrist.

I wanted to scream, NO!

Then down by the swimming pool, one of the dracaenae hissed, "What isss he doing? What isss that on hisss wrissst?"

Beckendorf closed eyes tight and brought his hand up to his watch.

I had no choice. I threw my sword like a javelin at Kronos. It bounced harmlessly off his chest, but it did startle him. I pushed through a crowd of monsters and jumped off the side of the ship—toward the water a hundred feet below.

I heard rumbling deep in the ship. Monsters yelled at me from above. A spear sailed past my ear. An arrow pierced my thigh, but I barely had time to register the pain. I plunged into the sea and willed the currents to take me far, far away—a hundred yards, two hundred yards.

Even from that distance, the explosion shook the world. Heat seared the back of my head. The Princess Andromeda blew up from both sides, a massive fireball of green flame roiling into the dark sky, consuming everything.

Beckendorf, I thought, feeling despair claw at my mind.

Then I blacked out and sank like an anchor toward the bottom of the sea.