Tears blurred my vision as I pumped my legs faster, desperate to get away from prying eyes.

I made it to the central green, collapsing next to the hearth. I wasn't worried about people coming after me. Nobody in the dining hall had seemed thrilled about my arrival.

It didn't matter. I refused to let it. I took deep breaths, slowing my sobs and blinking the tears from my eyes. They would not make me cry.

"Are you alright?"

I jumped. I hadn't even noticed the little girl tending to the flames. She seemed no more than eight years old, wearing a little brown dress with her hair pulled back in a bandana.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice ragged from my speeding heart rate.

"It doesn't matter. You'll forget about me soon. Everyone does. But I won't forget you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answered automatically. But this girl wasn't going to tell anyone about this. She looked like she could barely form sentences. So I admitted, "Actually, I'm not great."

"What's wrong?"

I gave her a small smile. "You wouldn't understand."

"You would be surprised by what I could understand." The flames seemed to flicker with her words, growing larger. I took a deep breath. You're just seeing things.

I decided to tell her. It didn't seem like many people would care if she told them my problems. "I mean, I'm stuck at this camp with a bunch of people who believe in gods, and—"

"You don't believe in gods?" the girl interrupted.

"No."

She laughed, perfect peals of laughter.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's simply delightfully refreshing."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Would dessert help?"

"Um…sure?"

The girl waved her hand, and a banquet of sweets appeared on the grass around us. Cakes, cookies, brownies, cupcakes, everything I could think of.

I scrambled away from the possessed feast. Staring back at the food I forced myself to take a deep breath. Okay, I thought. Monsters are real. Why not magic? "Who are—what are you?"

"A god," she answered simply.

"But—"

"Gods aren't real?"

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat.

"Maybe the gods you think of aren't real. But powerful beings with control over the elements? Those gods? Very real."

"I—you can't—that isn't," I stuttered out.

She continued calmly. "You may not think they are gods, as mortals tend to think gods are good. Most aren't. They're selfish and jealous and—"

"But aren't you a god?" I interrupted, indulging in her fantasy. Which is what this was. Just a fantasy. There was no way this little girl was a god. There was no way anyone was a god, because gods don't exist.

"Yes," she giggled. "But I would consider myself good. Although, I suppose everyone considers themselves good."

I couldn't deal with this little girl's philosophies. I had delt with too much today. I just wanted to go to bed. It was in a cabin that hates me, but a bed is a bed.

"Celeste!" I looked up to see Piper rushing towards me. She stopped in her tracks when she saw who I was sitting with, dipping into a clumsy curtsy. "Lady Hestia."

"Hestia? Like the—"

"Goddess? Yes."

"But—"

"Gods aren't real?"

"Yes!" I insisted, still clinging to the little bit of normalcy I had left.

"Lady Hestia, perhaps we should—"

"Can you really say what's real? What do you mortals say? Seeing is believing? Well why don't you look at this?" She waved her hands, and the flames grew. It couldn't be an illusion this time. Heat blasted me in the face as flames rose thirty feet in the air.

I scrambled backwards, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to block out unwelcome memories. I failed. The screams echoed in my head and scars that had long since healed felt fresh.

I felt the heat fade, and slowly opened my eyes, readjusting to the darkness after the light from the flames. My mouth hung open, but I couldn't speak if I wanted to. My tongue was bone dry from the burst of heat.

That could only have been done by a—Nope! It was just magic. Just regular old magic. Gods were just stories.

"Lady Hestia," Piper said smoothly, ignoring the flame magic. "Forgive me, but didn't Zeus forbid godly contact with mortals?" Wow. She was really going with this girl's story.

"Ah, but I am no god, and you are no mortal."

"Of course, My Lady," Piper said, her voice so intoxicating it managed to soothe my fried nerves. "I was simply wondering what compelled you to visit us."

"Why are you here?" I asked, forcing myself not to panic from the flashbacks. My existential crisis would be delt with later. Much later.

Piper gave me a look, seemingly telling me not to be rude to this 'god'. I was having none of it. This little girl used magic. She could handle a little attitude.

The girl giggled again. "Still so delightfully refreshing." She brushed herself off, rising from the ground. "As for why I'm here, I come with a warning."

"Thank you, Lady Hestia," Piper interrupted before I could open my mouth. "That's so kind of you."

Hestia chuckled. "I haven't delivered it yet."

"Of course, My Lady. I'm simply honored you thought of us humble heroes." She seemed to force each word past her lips. That made me feel better. She seemed to hate the gods as much as I did.

"Very humble indeed."

Piper opened her mouth to protest but Hestia held out her hand. "I was simply joking. Though I understand it could be hard to tell with my family's antics."

"Thank you, Lady Hestia."

"Of course. Now then," The girl pursed her lips, like she was about to deliver bad news. "the warning."

She stopped there.

"Just get on with this mysterious warning," I said, putting 'warning' in air quotes.

Piper shot me another glare. I ignored her.

"Very well." She took a deep breath, and the flames blazing in the hearth grew with her every breath. It's magic, I reminded myself. Very good magic, but just magic.

"You must believe." She was staring straight at me, her eyes like liquid fire. She turned to Piper. "It is crucial to your quest that she believes."

"The Prophecy of Eight?"

"I cannot say more. Even now I am testing Zeus' patience." She stepped towards the flames, not even pausing when Piper protested with her honeyed words. "Your charmspeak is a gift Piper McLean. A gift you must use. But not on me. Your time will come." The flames rose, swallowing her small form, leaving behind nothing but glowing coals and a wispy trail of smoke.

Piper stomped her foot, losing every trace of the graceful ease she just had when sweet-talking the girl. "Ugh! Why can't they just give me a straight answer for once!

I flinched at her yelling, barely registering it as I stared unseeing at the embers, unwelcome memories swimming through my head.

Piper knelt next to me, and I only registered her presence when she rested her hand on my shoulder. I cringed at the touch, scrambling away. I felt like the little girl I'd been after the accident. Constantly coddled and talked to in a soft voice, like I was some frightened animal.

"Are you okay?"

I wanted so badly to force 'fine' past my lips and be done with it, but I had promised myself I would try.

"No." It was barely a whisper, and just one tiny word, but I felt like I had accomplished something spectacular.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I didn't. But I should. I took a deep breath. The bare minimum. That counted as trying, right?

"My parents—" My voice cut off, nearly overwhelmed by tears. I swallowed, trying to get rid of the phantom taste of ash lingering on my tongue. Piper sat silently, waiting for me to be ready. "My parents died in a fire," I said again, as quickly as possible before I could change my mind. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Piper asked gently. I wanted so badly to tell her, but everyone had limits. This was mine.

I rose to my feet, taking a shaky breath before asking, "Do you want to finish that tour?"

Piper did all the talking as we walked through the woods. I felt burnt out from the single sentence I had told her, like someone had stripped me of my armor.

She told me all about quests. Ones she'd been on, ones she'd heard rumors about, and the one she was going to go on. The Prophecy of Eight, the Argo II, Gaea and Kronos. It all seemed impossible to believe.

She wove through the trees, so sure of where she was going, though I knew she'd only been here a few months. As we kept moving, she even returned the favor, opening up to me a bit. She told me stories about her dad, Tristan McLean, a famous movie star.

"Here we are," she announced when we entered a clearing. She pointed to the pile of rocks in the center. "Zeus' Fist. It's the unofficial boundary for Capture the Flag. Any farther and you're in uncharted territory."

"Great. Why are you telling me this?"

"Would you rather be back at camp with people whispering about you?"

"Tell me more."

She let out a small giggle, but her face turned somber again once, I assume, she remembered…everything. "Okay, so that way is the—"

"We'll take it from here, Pretty Girl," said a voice from behind me. I felt a whoosh of air as a hand tried to grab me, but I whirled around, rolling between my attacker's legs, and punching them in the back.

Where had I learned to do that? I had gotten in a fair amount of fist fights but had never done anything like this. It didn't matter. One more step. Just survive.

I stood up straight, getting a better look at the person who had ambushed me. It was the boy from table five—Sherman, and he had a couple other Ares campers with him.

He spun to face me, a sneer on his face. "Not bad, newbie. We'll see how much longer you can last."

He dove towards me, punching and kicking, but I was smaller and faster than him, and managed to avoid every hit. Piper tried to intervene, but the other campers held her back. One had a hand over her mouth so she couldn't charmspeak.

After a few minutes, he stepped back, panting. "You've made the whole camp nervous. Why don't you just leave? No one wants you here."

Rage seethed through me, but a deep breath had it tied in a knot in my ribcage. Anger made you sloppy. And Sherman was angry.

He didn't think things through, lunging desperately, just wanting to win. I dodged to the side, and the next time he leaped towards me, I retaliated. I crouched down, sweeping his leg out from underneath him, leaving him inches from the ground, dangling from his shirt clutched in my hands.

I punched him in the face, dropping him to the ground with a thud. Before he could even move, I had my knee on his chest, and had pinned his arms above his head.

"Leave me alone." Another punch to the face and him and his minions scattered, leaving me panting on the ground, and Piper rubbing her mouth, presumably trying to get the taste of the campers hand out of it.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

I didn't have an answer. I opened my mouth to fudge something when a figure emerged from the trees.

"Yeah. Where did you learn how to do that?" Jason asked. "That was a demigod technique."

Before I could answer Piper walked over and took his arm. "Quit being paranoid, Sparky. She was on the streets for a while. She probably picked it up there."

I gave her a grateful look.

"But—"

Piper shushed him. "Excuse my boyfriend. It's the Roman in him." Jason protested, but I didn't hear it. My mind was stuck on the word boyfriend. A loud conch horn broke the cycle.

"It's time for the campfire. You coming?" I wanted so badly to run far away from the stares I knew were waiting for me, or even settle down in bed and forget today ever happened. But I couldn't. So, I followed Piper back through the woods, my eyes still caught on her and Jason's intertwined fingers.

By the time we made it to the campfire circle people were already singing. I was really glad we were late.

There was no acknowledgement of my return except a sad smile from Annabeth and an offered seat from Connor and Travis.

Sherman glared at me from his bench, his nose swollen and a black eye already starting to form. I gave an evil look and he backed down.

I didn't sing. I didn't want to draw anymore attention to myself, and I didn't want to embarrass myself singing about my grandma putting on her armor.

I intentionally zoned out, making sure to look everywhere but the fire. I didn't need any more flashbacks today. Some part of my mind noticed the songs had stopped, but I didn't move—even when everyone else rose to get smore's supplies—until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Couldn't a girl get some personal space? I recoiled at the touch, too shaken by bad memories to stand it. I clambered to my feet, hastily rushing away from the person. I paused when I saw who it was.

Annabeth.

"Hey, um…I came to apologize."

I tried to stop her, to explain I knew about Luke, but she refused to stop.

"I shouldn't have freaked out like that, but it's just…your name," She let the sentence drag out, finally giving me an opportunity to jump in.

"I know."

"You do?"

"Well, not everything. But I know enough. Piper told me, and I got some context clues."

"Oh." She sounded surprised, like she hadn't expected me to be this smart. It seemed like she was going to say more when a person behind her cleared their throat. "Right! This is Rachel."

Rachel stepped out from behind Annabeth, revealing her paint splattered jeans and frizzy red hair. "Hey."

"Are you mortal?" I asked. She just looked so…normal compared to the other kids. No weapons in her belt, no Camp Half-Blood shirt, just a normal person.

"You're perceptive. Yeah, I am. I'm the host for the Oracle of Delphi."

"You mean like…Apollo's oracle?"

"That's the one."

"But—"

"Right. You don't believe in gods yet. But didn't Hestia visit you already?"

"How did you—"

"Anyways," Annabeth interrupted. "Rachel can sometimes recite prophecies and—"

It was like she flipped a switch. The second Annabeth uttered the word 'prophecy,' Rachel collapsed. When her eyes opened, they were pure white, and smoke curled around her body.

I screamed and scrambled backwards, drawing everyone's attention to the scene in front of me. Nobody moved though, probably due to Annabeth's held out hand.

"She's delivering a prophecy. She'll be fine."

The smoke thickened around her, and her hair floated into the air in wisps.

"This is fine?"

Annabeth ignored me, listening intently for the incoming prophecy. What was I thinking? No prophecy. This was just weird magic. Just regular old magic.

Rachel opened her mouth and a deep, raspy voice spoke.

Golden daughter shall embark

Through the sky, feelings will spark

Blight of gods shall be fulfilled

Flames of rage, blood be spilled

The wayward mind shall return

Through the maze, crown be earned

With a final gasp Rachel slumped back onto the bench. Everyone was silent. Annabeth looked deep in thought, only breaking her silence when the mutterings started.

"Was that about her?"

"That didn't sound good."

"But we already have a prophecy in motion!"

"Enough!" Annabeth's shout seemed to echo throughout the amphitheater. "We already have a prophecy to worry about. We'll think about this one, and once we get more information, we'll tell you. Counselors will have a meeting tomorrow morning."

The few grumbles that were left were quickly silenced by a glare from Annabeth. The campers seemed to dismiss themselves, no one staying except Annabeth, Piper, Chiron, and Jason. I stuck around.

"I think you're part of the Prophecy of Eight." This couldn't be happening. I didn't even believe in prophecies!

They kept talking about me, like I wasn't even there. I just stayed on the bench. I didn't want to be part of a prophecy. I didn't want to go on a quest. But it sounded like I was gonna have to.

Piper noticed me alone on the bench and came to sit next to me. She didn't speak, giving me some space. The argument in front of us ended, the people and horses leaving. We sat there together, in the light of the dying fire.

It was only when the last wisps of smoke trailed into the sky that she spoke.

"Believe in gods yet?"

"Not really. But it sounds like I'm gonna have to."