LEO

I designed the mess hall's walls to show real-time scenes from Camp Half-Blood. It seemed like a great idea at the time, so we wouldn't feel so disconnected from our home and family, but now it seemed like the worst idea I could have ever had.

The scenes from back home—the campfire sing-alongs, dinners at the pavilion, volleyball games outside the Big House—just seemed to make my friends sad. Everything that used to make us feel more at home, make us feel comforted and less alone, just made us feel worse. The farther away we got from Long Island, the worse it got. The timezones kept changing, which made me feel the distance every time I looked at the walls. When the sun's up here, the sun's down there. It made me feel disconnected from my family instead of more connected. It made me homesick.

It would have been fourth of July yesterday. We'd missed the annual party at the beach with the cool fireworks my siblings prepared in Cabin Nine. I decided not to mention that to the crew, but I hoped that my friends had had a good celebration. They needed something to keep their spirits up, too.

I wish I could turn off the wall videos.

"So," Jason said, "now that we're here…"

"Where's Percy?" I asked, looking around. Jason's eyes caught Nico's and they seemed to have a telepathic conversation. "Guys, come on, so he's a little upset. He's entitled to it. He was the one holding onto her, remember? Not to mention everything else. He deserves to be here."

"It's not that," Jason said, gulping. His lips pressed into a thin line and he seemed to be at odds with himself as he struggled to find the words to answer Piper.

"He just had a rough night," Nico answered for him, causing Jason to shoot him a grateful smile. "He needs to rest."

"What happened?" I asked as my eyebrows furrowed. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's—he's fine," Jason answered. Mostly, he seemed to say silently as he shrugged.

"And Annabeth?" I asked.

Everyone's eyes seemed to drop to the floor, and I kicked myself for asking, but that seemed to be what Jason and Nico weren't saying.

"She's fine," Nico answered after a long silence. "But we have to get to the Doors as fast as we can. She needs us—"

"Sorry, for being late," Percy said, now finding a seat at the table. I couldn't help but notice how puffy and red his eyes seemed, especially with the dark circles under them.

"No problem. We were just starting," Jason asked. Percy nodded at Jason, who shrugged in response.

I was starting to wish I had been up to see what exactly happened.

I would be lying if I had said that I didn't think Percy would be the one to try and act as the group's leader, especially since he knew Annabeth the best and knew her the longest. Annabeth was closer to Percy than anybody else on the ship, and understandably so. I remembered when I had first met Annabeth—she was so busy trying to find Percy, it's a miracle that she got anything else done. I was sure Percy would be doing the same thing.

Seeing him in his current state, though, it occurred to me why he wasn't.

Annabeth, being the daughter of Athena, was the wisest person I knew. She'd use reason and logic long before she'd let her feelings play into anything—though, her feelings certainly would motivate her to get things done quicker. Percy probably stepped aside and asked Jason to lead, since he was a lot more level-headed. He probably thought that the best way to get there was through reason and logic—not emotion. Considering the way he looked, he must have felt terrible, which isn't so good if you're trying to be reasonable.

Jason, however, did well under pressure. That being said, if he were in Percy's place, he'd be acting the same. I guess it was just that Annabeth meant too much to Percy for him to stay level-headed.

I glanced at the others around the table. Hazel was bleary-eyed, too, but she had been up all night guiding the ship through the mountains using Hecate's secret passage. Her curly cinnamon-colored hair was tied back in a bandana, which gave her a commando look I found kinda hot—which is something that I shouldn't even be thinking about.

Next to her was her boyfriend, Frank Zhang, dressed in black work out pants and a T-shirt that said "Ciao!". Frank's old centurion badge was pinned to his shirt, despite all of just now being Public Enemies 1-7 back at Camp Jupiter.

Nico di Angelo, Hazel's half brother, sat back in his leather aviator jacket, black T-shirt and jeans. He had his silver skull ring on his finger and the Stygian sword at his side. His black hair curled up like baby bat wings. Creepy.

Nico's eyes were sad and empty, as if he'd stared into the depths of Tartarus—which he had. I had more sense than to ask, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. If anybody would know anything about Tartarus, it would be him. I kinda wanted to ask about Annabeth but I'm sure he was tired from answering that question from Percy.

The only absent demigod was Piper, which I found unfortunate. Piper had a way of calming people down, but she was busy at the helm with Coach Hedge.

I had completely zoned out that I didn't realize Jason had been talking.

"—the House of Hades," he was saying. "Nico?"

Nico sat forward. "I communed with the dead last night." Okay, cool, I thought, commenting on how casual he made that sound. "I was able to learn more about what we'll face. In ancient times, the House of Hades was a major site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honor their ancestors."

"Kinda like Día de los Muertos," I said. "My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously."

I wasn't kidding—she really did. She would drag me to the local cemetery in Houston, where they'd clean up our relatives' gravesites and put out offerings of lemonade, cookies, and fresh marigolds. She'd force me to stay for a picnic, as if it was good for my appetite.

Frank grunted. "Chinese have that, too—ancestor worship, sweeping the graves in the springtime." He looked at me. "Your Aunt Rosa would've gotten along with my grandmother."

Now, that's a sight I hope I'll never see.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm sure they'd be best buds."

Nico cleared his throat, calling the attention back to him. "A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honor the dead, but the House of Hades was open all year long. Pilgrims could actually speak to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the Necromanteion, the Oracle of Death. You'd work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions—"

"Special potions," I muttered. "Yum."

Jason looked at me, and I felt my heart sink in shame. I knew it wasn't the time, especially what we have at stake, but I thought it would have been nice to lighten the mood a bit. "Nico, go on."

"The pilgrims believed that each level of the temple brought you closer to the Underworld, until the dead would appear before you. If they were pleased with your offerings, they would answer your questions, maybe even tell you the future."

Frank tapped his mug of hot chocolate. "And if the spirits weren't pleased?"

"Some pilgrims found nothing," Nico said. "Some went insane, or died after leaving the temple. Others lost their way in the tunnels and were never seen again."

"The point is," Jason said quickly, figuring it wouldn't be great idea to let that grim thought linger in the air for too long. "Nico found some information that might help us."

"Yeah," Nico said, though he didn't sound very enthusiastic. "The ghost I spoke to last night… he was a former priest of Hecate. He confirmed what the goddess told Hazel yesterday at the crossroads. In the first war with the giants, Hecate fought for the gods. She slew one of the giants—one who'd been designed as the anti-Hecate. A guy named in Clytius."

"I suppose he'll be waiting for us, guarding the Doors of Death."

"There is some good news," Nico said. "The ghost I talked to explained how Hecate defeated Clytius in the first war. She used her torches to set his hair on fire. He burned to death. In other words, fire is his weakness."

Everybody looked at me.

"Oh," I said, wishing they would stop. I doubted it would be as simple it sounded to defeat him. "Okay."

"It's a good lead," Jason insisted. "At least we know how to kill the giant."

"So," Hazel said, "Now we just have to reach the House of Hades, battle our way through Gaea's forces—"

"Plus a bunch of ghosts," Nico added grimly. "The spirits in that temple may not be so friendly."

"—And find the Doors of Death," Hazel continued. "Assuming we can somehow arrive at the same time as Percy and Annabeth and rescue them."

Frank swallowed a bite of pancake. "We can do it," he said hopefully, nodding and looking around.

"We have to," Percy muttered. The corners of my lips twitched down, remembering how much this meant to him in particular.

"So," I said, "With this detour, I'm estimating four or five days to arrive at Epirus, assuming no delays for, you know, monster attacks and stuff."

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "Those never happen."

"Hecate told you that Gaea was planning her big Wake Up party on August first, right? The Feast of Whatever?" I asked, looking at Hazel.

"Spes," she said. "The goddess of hope."

Well, she does have something for dramatics, I guess.

"Theoretically, that leaves us enough time," Jason said, turning his fork. "It's only July 5th. We should be able to close the Doors and then find the giants' HQ and stop them from waking Gaea before August first."

"Theoretically," Hazel agreed. "But I'd still like to know how we make our way through the House of Hades without going insane or dying."

A silence fell over the group. Nobody had any ideas to volunteer.

Frank set down his pancake roll like it suddenly didn't taste so good. "It's July fifth. Oh, jeez, I hadn't even thought of that…"

"Hey man, it's cool," I said. "You're Canadian, right? I didn't expect you to get me an Independence Day present or anything… unless you wanted to."

"It's not that," Frank said. "My grandmother always told me that seven was an unlucky number. It was a ghost number. She didn't like it when I told her there would be seven demigods on our quest. And July is the seventh month."

"Yeah, but…" I tapped my fingers nervously on the table. I realized I was doing the Morse code for I love you, the way I used to do with my mom. This was the one moment I felt a little grateful Annabeth wasn't here. If anybody knew Morse code on the Argo II, it would be Annabeth, who would no doubt raise an eyebrow at me.

Then, looking at Percy, I felt guilty for even thinking about that. It was obvious to everybody that he could barely think straight with her in Tartarus. He hadn't even tried to eat his breakfast, either.

I fought against saying something about it. It wasn't the time to mention it, especially not in front of everybody else. I could see Annabeth, though, chastising him and telling him to eat and to not be stupid.

When I snapped out of my thoughts, I saw Nico looking at Percy's full plate too.

Then, he saw everybody else looking at him, and it occurred to him he had stopped mid-sentence.

"It's just gotta be a coincidence, right?"

Frank's expression didn't reassure him.

"Back in China," Frank began, "in the old days, people called the seventh month the ghost month. That's when the spirit world and the human world were closest. The living and the dead could go back and forth. Tell me it's a coincidence we're searching for the Doors of Death during the ghost month."

No one spoke.

I wanted to think that it had to have been unrelated—that old Chinese beliefs weren't tied with Greece's or Rome's. But Frank's existence proved that they were tied together.

I also kept thinking about what Nemesis had said at the Great Salt Lake. She said I was the seventh wheel—she didn't mean seventh as in ghost, right?

Jason pressed his hands against the arms of the chair. "Let's focus on the things we can deal with. We're getting close to Bologna. Maybe we'll get more answers once we find these dwarfs that Hecate—"

The ship lurched as if it had hit an iceberg. My breakfast plate slid across the table. Nico fell backward out of his chair and banged his head against the sideboard. He collapsed on the floor, with a dozen magic goblets and platters crashing down on top of him.

"Nico!" Hazel ran to help him.

"What—?" Frank tried to stand, but the ship pitched in the other direction. He stumbled into the table and went face-first into my plate of scrambled eggs.

"Look!" Jason pointed at the walls. The images of Camp Half-Blood were flickering and changing.

"Not possible," I murmured.

Suddenly, a huge, distorted face filled the entire port-side wall: crooked yellow teeth, a scraggly red beard, a warty nose, and two mismatched eyes—one much larger than the other. The face seemed to be trying to eat its way into the room.

The other walls changed into what must have been happening above. Piper stood at the helm, but something was wrong. From the shoulders own, she was wrapped in duct tape, her mouth gagged and her legs bound to the control console. Coach Hedge was similarly bound and gagged at the mainmast. A bizarre-looking creature danced around him, doing his hair.

On the port-side wall, the same creature began leaping around the deck, stuffing things in a burlap back.

"Dwarfs," Hazel grumbled.

"Stealing my stuff!" I yelled, running for the stairs.