To 8Ball3- Those people that set the guillotine up outside one of Jeff Bezos's house (one of his houses, plural), they had the right idea. No, it's like floss. And not the dance move either. And good, I hope he suffocates. I saw that fly circling on Tumblr, think people paid it more attention than the debate itself! XP And I'm with you there, you can't meet Reyna and not get a crush on her. Her name literally means queen.

Apollo was used to being the centre of attention- it had been his place in the world, born to be in the spotlight. Now, with everyone staring at him, he suddenly had the wish to turn invisible or for the ground to yawn open and swallow him whole. He couldn't help it that he was the only (ex-) god in the room.

Reyna leaned over the scroll, tracing her finger across the parchment. "Frank copied these lines from Tyson's back. As you can probably guess, they read more like an instruction manual than a prophecy." Everything in Apollo wanted to crawl out of his skin. He wanted to rip the scroll away from Reyna and read the bad news himself. Was his name mentioned? Sacrificing him couldn't possibly please the gods, could it?

Meg still eyed up the jar of jellybeans, while the greyhounds eyed her.

"Which god dies?"

"Well, that particular line…" Reyna squinted and then pushed the parchment to Frank. "What is that word?" Frank looked sheepish.

"Shattered. Sorry, I was writing fast."

"No, no, it's fine." Reyna assured. "Your handwriting is better than mine."

"Can you please just tell me what it says?" Apollo begged.

"Well, it's not exactly poetry, like the sonnet you got in Indianapolis… it says: All to be done on the day of greatest need: gather the ingredients for a type-six burnt offering (see appendix B)-"

"We're doomed." Apollo mumbled dejectedly. "We'll never be able to collect those… whatever they are."

"That part's easy." Frank comforted. "Ella has the list of ingredients. She says it's all ordinary stuff." He gestured for Reyna to continue.

"Add the last breath of the god who speaks not, once his soul is cut free, together with the shattered glass. Then the single-deity summoning prayer (see appendix C) must be uttered through the rainbow." She took a breath, fiddling with the corners of the parchment in thought. "We don't have the actual text of prayer yet, but Ella is confident she can transcribe it before the battle starts, now that she knows what to look for in appendix C."

"Does the rest of it make any sense to you?" Frank asked, watching Apollo carefully. He was so relieved, he almost slipped off his three-legged stool.

"You got me all worked up." He accused. "I thought… well, I've been called a lot of things, but the god who speaks not. It sounds like we must find the soundless god, whom we've discussed before and, er…"

"Kill him." Reyna supplied. "How would killing a god please the gods?" Apollo didn't have an answer to that. Then again, many prophecies seemed illogical until they played out.

"Perhaps if I knew which god we're talking about…" He pounded his fist on his knee. "I feel like I should know, but it's buried deep." Apollo shook his head. "An obscure memory. I don't suppose you've checked your libraries or run a Google search or something?"

"Of course we looked." Frank said. "There's no listing for a Roman or Greek god of silence."

Roman or Greek. Apollo felt sure something was missing. Last breath. His soul is cut free. It definitely sounded like instructions for a sacrifice.

"We even asked Lou." Reyna said stiffly, focusing on the mess across the table. "She's pissed off every god and monster we've ever come across, I'm sure she knows something."

"Did she know?" Meg asked. Reyna's jaw bunched.

"She didn't hear you." Apollo guessed. "Is she still-?"

"She's asleep." Reyna sighed. "Or, at least, no longer screaming and blowing up my sink." She looked at Apollo, ending that part of the conversation. "Can you think of anything else?"

"I… will need a bit of time." He said, piecing his words together gingerly. "As for the rest of the instructions: shattered glass seems like an odd request, but I suppose we can find some easily enough."

"We could break the jellybean jar." Meg suggested, eyeing the sweets longingly. Reyna and Frank politely ignored her.

"And the single-deity summoning thing?" Frank asked. "I guess that means we won't be getting a host of gods charging down in their chariots?"

"Probably not." Apollo agreed. He could feel his pulse quickening- the prospect of being able to speak to even one of his fellow Olympians after all this time- to summon actual grade AA-quality, jumbo, cage-free, locally sourced divine help… he found the idea both exhilarating and terrifying. Would he get to choose which god he called or was it predetermined by prayer? "Nevertheless," he said, pulling himself from his thoughts, "even one god can make all the difference."

"Depends on the god." Meg shrugged. Apollo cut her the stink-eye.

"That hurt."

"What about the last line?" Reyna asked. "The prayer must be uttered through the rainbow?"

"An Iris-message." Apollo replied, happy he could answer one question at least. "It's a Greek thing, a way of beseeching Iris, goddess of the rainbow, to carry a message- in this case, a prayer to Mount Olympus. The formula is quite simple."

"But…" Frank frowned. "Percy told me about Iris-messages. They don't work anymore, do they? Not since all our communications went silent." A spark flitted in Apollo's mind. Communications. Silent. The soundless god. He swore in Greek under his breath.

"Oh, I am so stupid."

"I have been trying to tell you." Meg said simply. Reyna hurriedly turned a snort of laughter into a cough. Frank bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Apollo frowned at them both, resisting the urge to tip his little master off her stool.

"This soundless god, whoever he is… what if he's the reason our communications don't work? What if the Triumvirate has somehow been harnessing his power to prevent us all from talking to one another and to keep us from beseeching the gods for help?" Reyna's amusement had died now, thoughts whirring. She crossed her arms, blocking out the word FUERTE on her T-shirt.

"You're saying what- this soundless god is in cahoots with the Triumvirate? We have to kill him to talk to the others? Then we could send an Iris-message, do the ritual and get divine help? I'm still stuck on the whole killing a god thing." Her gaze drifted to a door in the side wall, a slight crease forming between her eyebrows. The momentary distraction did not go unnoticed. Apollo put two and two together. Meg had said Louisa had been moved. Reyna said she was sleeping, or whatever came close to sleeping in her state. The door had to lead off to Reyna's living quarters, Louisa had exploded her sink, and at the mention of killing a god, Reyna's attention had wandered. Looking for the god-killer next door.

Apollo pressed on, not sure how he felt about Reyna keeping Louisa so close at hand and somewhere so personal. He went with his decision about what she slept in and how she slept- it was not his business.

"Perhaps this god isn't a willing participant." He said. "He might have been trapped or… I don't know, coerced somehow."

"So, we free him by killing him?" Frank asked, quietly relieved to get the conversation back on track. "Gotta agree with Reyna. That sounds harsh."

"One way to find out." Meg said. "We go to this Sutro place. Can I feed your dogs?" Without waiting for permission, she grabbed the jellybean jar and popped it open. Aurum and Argentum, having heard the magic words feed and dogs, did not growl or tear Meg apart. They got up and moved to her side and sat watching her, their jewelled eyes begging for candy.

Meg doled out a jellybean to each dog and then two to herself. Two for the dogs, two for her. Meg had achieved a diplomatic breakthrough.

"Meg's right. Sutro is the place Tarquin's minion mentioned." Apollo remembered. "Presumably, we'll find the soundless god there."

"Mount Sutro?" Reyna asked. "Or Sutro Tower? Did he say which?"

"Isn't it the same place?" Frank puzzled. "I always just call that area Sutro Hill."

"Actually, the biggest hill is Mount Sutro." Reyna said. "The giant antenna is on a different hill right next to it. That's Sutro Tower. I only know this because Aurum and Argentum like to go hiking over there." The greyhounds turned their heads at hiking. When there was no more mention of said hike, they turned back to studying Meg's hand in the jar.

Apollo tried to imagine Reyna hiking with her dogs just for fun. He wondered if Lavinia knew that was her pastime. Maybe Lavinia was such a dedicated hiker because she was trying to outdo the praetor, the same way she had her thinking spot above Reyna's.

He decided he should stop trying to psychoanalyse his pink-haired friend in case someone decided he needed psychoanalysing too.

"Is this Sutro place close?" Meg asked. She was slowly depleting all the green jellybeans.

"It's across the bay in San Francisco." Reyna answered. "The tower is massive. You can see it from all over the Bay Area."

"Weird place to keep someone." Frank remarked. "But I guess no weirder than under a carousel."

"Wherever the soundless god is," Apollo said, "he'll be heavily protected, especially now. Tarquin must know we'll try to locate the hiding place."

"And we have to do so on April eighth." Reyna frowned. "The day of greatest need." Frank grunted.

"Good thing we don't have anything else scheduled that day. Like getting invaded on two fronts, for instance." Reyna hummed, half-listening. She was watching Meg, only now realising the girl's eating capabilities.

"My gods, Meg." She marvelled. "You're going to make yourself sick. I'll never get all the sugar out of their gear works."

"Fine." Meg put the jar back on the table, but not before grabbing one last fistful for herself and her canine accomplices. "So, we have to wait until the day after tomorrow? What'll we do until then?"

"Oh, we've got plenty to do." Frank promised. "Planning. Constructing defences. War games all day tomorrow. We have to run the legion through every possible scenario. Besides…" His voice wilted, as if he realised what he had been about to say was better kept in his head. His hand drifted towards the pouch where he held his firewood. Apollo wondered if he had endured any more ramblings about bridges, fires and something, something, something from their resident harpy. If so, Frank did not want to share. "Besides," he tried again, "you guys should rest up for the quest. You'll have to leave for Sutro early on Lester's birthday."

"Can we please not call it that?" Apollo huffed.

"Also, who is 'you guys'?" Reyna asked. "We may need another senate vote to decide who goes on the quest."

"Nah. I mean, we can check with the senators, but this is clearly an extension of the original mission, right? Besides, when we're at war, you and I have full executive power." Reyna regarded him in a new light.

"Why, Frank Zhang. You've been studying the praetors' handbook."

"Maybe a little." Frank cleared his throat. "Anyway, we know who needs to go- Apollo, Meg and you. The doorway to the soundless god has to be opened by Bellona's daughter, right?" Reyna looked back and forth between them.

"I can't just leave on the day of a major battle. Bellona's power is all about strength in numbers. I need to lead the troops."

"And you will." Frank assured. "As soon as you get back from San Francisco. In the meantime, I'll hold the fort. I've got this."

"Are you sure, Frank? I mean, yeah, of course you can do it, I know you can. But-"

"I'll be fine." Frank smiled. "Apollo and Meg need you on this quest. Go."

Why did Reyna look so excited? Apollo didn't like that- how crushing must her work have been, that she looked forward to killing a god on the other side of the Bay?

"I suppose." She said with feigned reluctance.

"It's settled then." Frank turned to Meg and Apollo. "You guys rest up. Big day tomorrow. We'll need your help with the war games. I've got a special job in mind for each of you."

Reyna shed her cloak, tossing it over the hooks on the wall. Her apartment was only semi-lit, curtains drawn despite sundown still a little ways off. She moved quietly down the hall, reaching for the handle of the second door on the left. She cracked it open. This room was just as dim.

"Lou?" She called gently. "Just me." A bright light seared her retinas and she ducked back, rubbing at her eyes with one hand. "Put the flashlight down, Lou."

"No."

Reyna peered in again, shielding her eyes. Louisa kept the beam aimed at her, but had lowered it slightly. She sat on the bed, on just the mattress. All the linen and pillows had been stripped off and thrown to one corner of the room. The window had been cracked open less than an inch, but enough for the dusk air to creep in little by little.

"I managed to save you some jellybeans, but I hope you didn't want any green ones."

"Green." Louisa repeated, testing the word.

"Mm-hm." Reyna nodded, setting the jar on the bedside cabinet. "Meg likes the green ones."

"You're leavin'."

"I have to go with them."

"I know."

"Frank's going to keep an eye on you while I'm gone." Reyna sat beside her. Louisa shone her light into the corners of the room, frowning. Reyna touched her cheek, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Think you can stay with him for me?"

"With who?"

"Frank."

"I like Frank."

"I know you like Frank. He's going to watch you while I'm away. I need you to stay with him. OK?"

"OK." Louisa said distantly, shining the flashlight at the ceiling. She searched every inch of it before Reyna spoke again.

"What are you looking for?"

"Heard them."

"Heard who?"

"Them."

"Right." Reyna leaned back a little, reaching for a little notebook discarded in a pillow space. "Mind if I look?"

"I drew a duck."

"I can see that." Reyna nodded. The aquatic creature was cartoonish and wobbly-lined, grinning at her lopsidedly. It had one leg outstretched, ready to waddle its way across the lined paper.

Louisa continued to search the room with her flashlight while Reyna flicked through the notebook. Most of it was little reminders or ideas or even notes to herself on revenge. For example, call Leo a peasant and smack him every two minutes for trying to kill me with his stupid dragon. And kick stupid dragon into a volcano. Or cut off Jason's legs so he can't run around and piss me off.

The notebook was about three-quarters full. The last half-a-dozen pages were the ones Reyna was looking for. Louisa's writing was not the neatest- it actually made Reyna's look the greatest ever- but she usually stuck to the lines or it was relatively simple to follow her thought pattern once you knew it. These pages had large, erratic letters scribbled over repeatedly, wedged in the corner of the page, falling down three or four lines or stretching out from one edge to the other at an angle. Reyna read the words, mouthing them:

Marco

Warehouse

Half

Arnie

Lost

Poison

Three

Duck

In the centre of the drawing, was an eye, only drawn in black biro, but it was shadowed, blood-shot, bulging. As just an eye, Reyna could not read it properly- was it angry, victorious, sad, what? But it had been drawn with so much detail, she could only see it as something Louisa could not forget.

There were shadowy figures tearing through paper, hands outstretched, looming, smoking, made of frantic scribblings. Louisa flicked off the flashlight, thumbing it back on before the bulb had even fully dimmed. She aimed it at the doorway again, still ajar from Reyna's entrance.

There was the face of a young boy, maybe six or seven years old, with dark wavy hair and a dimpled smile. His eyes shone with a youthful mirth, one slightly more shaded than the other. Underneath, in the neatest handwriting so far, was a repeat of the words- Arnie.

Louisa checked the corners again. Reyna flipped through, only seeing more shadows and what looked like high rafters and corrugated roofing, torn through with claws and dappled with light.

The last page nearly tore from the book with her fervour to turn it. She saw her own image looking back at her, frowning and bloodied and bruised. A blood-speckled hand lay on her forehead, attached to an arm and nothing more. She recognised the perspective. "Why did you draw me, Lou?"

"In my head."

"How so?"

"Hurt."

"On this day though?"

"Mm." Louisa flicked the flashlight off. "Hurt." She repeated, blasting the light back on, past Reyna and at the window. "What's that?" She asked, frowning at subtle movements in the curtains.

"Just the wind. You opened the window, remember?"

"No." She turned the light on Reyna, blinding her until Reyna pushed the source down. "Hurt?"

"I'm not hurt."

"Leavin' though."

"I'll be back."

"Frank."

"Yes, stay with Frank." Reyna pressed her thumb down on Louisa's, turning the flashlight off. Louisa stared down at it, confused. It did not seem to be a case of why Reyna turned the light off, but how. As if she was nonmaterialistic, no more substantial than wisps of spray from the tide.

Reyna gently eased the light from her hands. "You need to rest, Lou. You're supposed to be helping us with the war games tomorrow."

"I am?"

"Yep. We kind of suck on boats, if I'm to quote you." Louisa blinked, a minor furrowing in her brow.

"Yes." She said, voice a little firmer. "Yes, you do suck on boats." She breathed in, squeezing her eyes shut. Reyna touched her shoulder, pushing gently. Louisa looked at her, shaking her head. "No. No, I don't… I don't wanna…"

"I know you don't, but you have to sleep."

"But… no…"

"I'll make sure you're OK. You're safe in here. Yes?" Reyna stared at her imploringly. Louisa blinked again, rubbing at her face. "Yes?" Reyna repeated.

"Y-yes."

"Lie down then."

"You stayin'?"

"Yes. I'm staying." Reyna pushed on her shoulder again. Reluctantly, Louisa lay down on the bare mattress. Reyna retrieved the quilt. She wrapped it around her own shoulders, but did not lay it over Louisa. She was clearly not in the mood for bedding. "One to ten, how bad are they?"

"Mmph." Louisa grimaced. "Saw Jay."

"Jason? You did?"

"Yes. He had a warnin'."

"A warning?" Reyna repeated. Louisa nodded. "Is that why you went after them, in the tomb?" Another nod. Reyna let a little relief slide in- at least it wasn't something new to worry about. "What did we say about disappearing acts, Lou?"

"Uh. Notes."

"Did you leave me a note?"

"Yes." Reyna looked down at her. "No." Louisa corrected meekly. "Um. Emergency. Hazel needed me."

"And trying to heal Apollo?"

"Jay told me to."

"And you do as you're told?"

"Blue moon."

"So, if Jay told you to go to sleep, would you?"

"No." She shook her head fervently.

"And if I told you to?"

"Already done that."

"Then do it. I'm only going to be right here, OK?" She didn't get an answer to that. For a moment, Louisa stayed still, biting her lip. Reyna didn't press, she needed the moment to gather her thoughts. It was only when Louisa reached for her hand through the quilt did Reyna begin to settle. She squeezed her fingers and wriggled in the quilt to lie down beside her. Louisa's grip tightened on her hand, Reyna looked over at her. She had already dozed off, but she didn't look very happy about it. Nonetheless, it was a start.

Reyna sighed, pushing the edges of the quilt against Louisa restlessly, laying her head down, momentarily forgetting the pillow's absence. Louisa huffed, bowing her head with a grimace. Reyna shushed her gently, brushing her hair back from her forehead once more. "You're OK." She insisted. "You're OK. Bit of an idiot, but OK."