She felt herself being pulled out the water, and Piper regained her breath, recovering from the shock of the cold water of the lake. Over to the side, Butch was cutting the wrecked harnesses of the pegasi, who were flapping their wings indignantly to try and rid them of the water. She felt herself being dried off as a squad of campers with bronze leaf blower looking things blasted her with air.

She flinched as the wreck of the chariot was flung out of the water and landed on the shore with a crunch, its structure being ruined.

"Annabeth!" A guy with a bow and quiver called, as he pushed through the crowd. "I said you could borrow the chariot, not destroy it!"

"Will, I'm sorry, I'll get it fixed." Annabeth responded tiredly. Will shook his head before looking at the trio of new arrivals.

"Are these the ones? Look older than thirteen. Claimed yet?" The blondie asked.

"Claimed?" Leo asked.

Before Annabeth could answer, Will spoke again. "Any sign of Sephie?"

"No." Annabeth relented.

The campers muttered. By now a rather large crowd had gathered around to see the new arrivals, but they had since broken into smaller groups that were conversing with each other. Someone slowly began pushing through, as she could see the crowd slowly part for the person.

Out from the crowd stepped a girl, - Tall, Asian, dark hair in ringlets, plenty of jewelry and perfect makeup. She glanced at Leo, and fixed her eyes on Jason, like her might be worthy of her attention, Then curled her lip at Piper, as if she was a week old burrito that had been pulled out of a dumpster. Piper knew her type, she had dealt with plenty of them at the various schools her father had sent her to.

"Well, I hope you were worth the trouble." The girl said.

Leo snorted, "Gee, thanks. What are we? your new pets?"

"No kidding," Jason agreed. "How about some answers before you start judging us, - like, what is this place, why are we here, how long do we have to stay?"

Annabeth was about to answer his questions, the new girl too, but their attention was snatched by the parting of the crowd. While the girl had been forced to push her way through, the crowd now parted like the seas under Poseidon's will. The muttering of the crowd ceased, leaving the clearing silent as all eyes went to the new comer. Piper could see him perfectly from where she stood, and soaking in his appearance.

A boy, maybe 16, she would guess, walked down the new aisle. He was wearing a slate grey parka, with nightmare black fur on the hood. On the right arm she could recognize the symbol of Canada Goose, although she suspected is had been added onto the piece of apparel. He didn't stand too tall, about 5'10. Compared to Jason's rough 6'1, he was pretty small. His hair was dark, short at the back and sides, and longer on top, coming down to a messy fringe above his eyes. She could see a few natural auburn streaks, along with a particularly grey streak that was running down the fringe. Sharp silver eyes looked over the group, the black of his left being left a pale white, from the vicious scar that ran over it. His jawline was sharp, his face contorted into a scowl.

He had some faded dark jeans on, a leather belt, with two gold knives that hung off it, clinking together as he walked forwards. He, like Will, had a quiver on his back, joined by a bow. His dark boots had another knife strapped to the side of the right one, and there was a fourth knife sheathed on the quiver strap. Peeking out from beneath the hem of his shirt was the top of a tattoo, the blade of a scythe.

Annabeth, from the Piper's perspective barely held back a sneer, training her face to a hateful neutral expression. The other in the crowd also watched on, many scowling at the new boy. Piper was drawn from her analysis of the new boy by Annabeth speaking. "How nice of you to join us prodòtis." She bit out, sarcasm emanating from her tone. Piper's mind automatically translated the spoken Greek. Traitor.

Jason leaned in to whisper, "What did she say?" He asked. Piper blinked, before answering him in an equally hushed tone. "She called him traitor." She saw Jason frown at that, and his posture straighten.

The boy replied to Annabeth. "Nice indeed. Any luck finding her?" He asked in an uninterested, carefree tone, while he inspected his nails, eyebrow cocked. A sharp and distinct British accent accompanying his words.

Annabeth held her head high. "No, I don't know why you care either." She retorted.

He smiled, "Oh I don't. It's just humorous watching you fail." He admitted. Piper was unsure of whether she liked him.

Annabeth folded her arms. "It was funny watching you fail to topple Olympus in the last war too. Your lucky Sephie asked for amnesty for demigods." That apparently hit him, as his scowl deepened.

He looked the daughter of Athena in the eye and said two words. "It's Beginning." He turned and walked back through the aisle that parted for him.

Silence reigned again before Leo spoke. "Who was that?" He asked innocently. Annabeth didn't reply, still scowling and watching the boy as he departed. The boy she knew to be Will answered for him.

"That was Ashton Knight. He fought against Olympus in the last Titan war. Never been claimed, despite Sephie getting the gods to agree on the new rule of always claiming by thirteen." The son of Apollo said.

"Last Titan war?" Leo asked.

A shadow fell across Will's face, lowering his head in mourning for all the demigods who had died. "Another time." Was all he said to the Latino. Leo was about to press but a firm look from Piper shut him up.

Annabeth spoke, having gotten herself together from Ash's appearance. "I promise we'll answer your questions. And Drew"—she frowned at the glamour girl—"all demigods are worth saving. But I'll admit, the trip didn't accomplish what I hoped."

"Hey," Piper said, "we didn't ask to be brought here."

Drew sniffed. "And nobody wants you, hon. Does your hair always look like a dead badger?"

Piper stepped forward, ready to smack her, but Annabeth said, "Piper, stop." Piper did. She wasn't a bit scared of Drew, but Annabeth didn't seem like somebody she wanted for an enemy.

"We need to make our new arrivals feel welcome," Annabeth said, with another pointed look at Drew. "We'll assign them each a guide, give them a tour of camp. Hopefully by the campfire tonight, they'll be claimed."

"Would somebody tell me what claimed means?" Piper asked. Suddenly there was a collective gasp. The campers backed away. At first Piper thought she'd done something wrong. Then she realized their faces were bathed in a strange red light, as if someone had lit a torch behind her. She turned and almost forgot how to breathe. Floating over Leo's head was a blazing holographic image —a fiery hammer.

"That," Annabeth said, "is claiming."

"What'd I do?" Leo backed toward the lake. Then he glanced up and yelped. "Is my hair on fire?" He ducked, but the symbol followed him, bobbing and weaving so it looked like he was trying to write something in flames with his head.

"This can't be good," Butch muttered.

"The curse—" "Butch, shut up," Annabeth said. "Leo, you've just been claimed—"

"By a god," Jason interrupted. "That's the symbol of Vulcan, isn't it?" All eyes turned to him.

"Jason," Annabeth said carefully, "how did you know that?"

"I'm not sure."

"Vulcan?" Leo demanded. "I don't even LIKE Star Trek. What are you talking about?"

"Vulcan is the Roman name for Hephaestus," Annabeth said, "the god of blacksmiths and fire." The fiery hammer faded, but Leo kept swatting the air like he was afraid it was following him.

"The god of what? Who?" Annabeth turned to the guy with the bow. "Will, would you take Leo, give him a tour? Introduce him to his bunk-mates in Cabin Nine."

"Sure, Annabeth."

"What's Cabin Nine?" Leo asked. "And I'm not a Vulcan!"

"Come on, Mr. Spock, I'll explain everything." Will put a hand on his shoulder and steered him off toward the cabins. Annabeth turned her attention back to Jason. Usually Piper didn't like it when other girls checked out her boyfriend, but Annabeth didn't seem to care that he was a good-looking guy. She studied him more like he was a complicated blueprint.

Finally she said, "Hold out your arm." Piper saw what she was looking at, and her eyes widened. Jason had taken off his windbreaker after his dip in the lake, leaving his arms bare, and on the inside of his right forearm was a tattoo. How had Piper never noticed it before? She'd looked at Jason's arms a million times. The tattoo couldn't have just appeared, but it was darkly etched, impossible to miss: a dozen straight lines like a bar code, and over that an eagle with the letters SPQR.

"I've never seen marks like this," Annabeth said. "Where did you get them?"

Jason shook his head. "I'm getting really tired of saying this, but I don't know." The other campers pushed forward, trying to get a look at Jason's tattoo. The marks seemed to bother them a lot —almost like a declaration of war.

"They look burned into your skin," Annabeth noticed.

"They were," Jason said. Then he winced as if his head was aching. "I mean … I think so. I don't remember." No one said anything. It was clear the campers saw Annabeth as the leader. They were waiting for her verdict.

"He needs to go straight to Chiron," Annabeth decided. "Drew, would you—"

"Absolutely." Drew laced her arm through Jason's. "This way, sweetie. I'll introduce you to our director. He's … an interesting guy." She flashed Piper a smug look and led Jason toward the big blue house on the hill.

The crowd began to disperse, until only Annabeth and Piper were left. "Who's Chiron?" Piper asked. "Is Jason in some kind of trouble?"

Annabeth hesitated. "Good question, Piper. Come on, I'll give you a tour. We need to talk."

Piper soon realized Annabeth's heart wasn't in the tour. She talked about all this amazing stuff the camp offered —magic archery, pegasus riding, the lava wall, fighting monsters —but she showed no excitement, as if her mind were elsewhere. She pointed out the open-air dining pavilion that overlooked Long Island Sound. (Yes, Long Island, New York; they'd traveled that far on the chariot.) Annabeth explained how Camp Half-Blood was mostly a summer camp, but some kids stayed here year-round, and they'd added so many campers it was always crowded now, even in winter. Piper wondered who ran the camp, and how they'd known Piper and her friends belonged here. She wondered if she'd have to stay full-time, or if she'd be any good at the activities.

Could you flunk out of monster fighting? A million questions bubbled in her head, but given Annabeth's mood, she decided to keep quiet. As they climbed a hill at the edge of camp, Piper turned and got an amazing view of the valley—a big stretch of woods to the northwest, a beautiful beach, the creek, the canoe lake, lush green fields, and the whole layout of the cabins—a bizarre assortment of buildings arranged like a Greek omega, Ω, with a loop of cabins around a central green, and two wings sticking out the bottom on either side.

Piper counted twenty cabins in all. One glowed golden, another silver. One had grass on the roof. Another was bright red with barbed wire trenches. One cabin was black with fiery green torches out front. All of it seemed like a different world from the snowy hills and fields outside. "The valley is protected from mortal eyes," Annabeth said. "As you can see, the weather is controlled, too. Each cabin represents a Greek god—a place for that god's children to live." She looked at Piper like she was trying to judge how Piper was handling the news.

"You're saying Mom was a goddess."

Annabeth nodded. "You're taking this awfully calmly." Piper couldn't tell her why. She couldn't admit that this just confirmed some weird feelings she'd had for years, arguments she'd had with her father about why there were no photos of Mom in the house, and why Dad would never tell her exactly how or why her mom had left them. But mostly, the dream had warned her this was coming. Soon they will find you, demigod, that voice had rumbled. When they do, follow our directions. Cooperate, and your father might live.

Piper took a shaky breath. "I guess after this morning, it's a little easier to believe. So who's my mom?"

"We should know soon," Annabeth said. "You're what —fifteen? Gods are supposed to claim you when you're thirteen. That was the deal."

"The deal?"

"They made a promise last summer … well, long story… but they promised not to ignore their demigod children anymore, to claim them by the time they turn thirteen. Sometimes it takes a little longer, but you saw how fast Leo was claimed once he got here. Should happen for you soon. Tonight at the campfire, I bet we'll get a sign."

Piper wondered if she'd have a big flaming hammer over her head, or with her luck, something even more embarrassing. A flaming wombat, maybe. Whoever her mother was, Piper had no reason to think she'd be proud to claim a kleptomaniac daughter with massive problems. "Why thirteen? "

"The older you get," Annabeth said, "the more monsters notice you, try to kill you. 'Round thirteen is usually when it starts. That's why we send protectors into the schools to find you guys, get you to camp before it's too late."

"Like Coach Hedge?"

Annabeth nodded. "He's—he was a satyr: half man, half goat. Satyrs work for the camp, finding demigods, protecting them, bringing them in when the time is right." Piper had no trouble believing Coach Hedge was half goat. She'd seen the guy eat. She'd never liked the coach much, but she couldn't believe he'd sacrificed himself to save them.

"What happened to him?" she asked. "When we went up into the clouds, did he … is he gone for good?"

"Hard to say." Annabeth's expression was pained. "Storm spirits … difficult to battle. Even our best weapons, Celestial bronze, will pass right through them unless you can catch them by surprise."

"Jason's sword just turned them to dust," Piper remembered.

"He was lucky, then. If you hit a monster just right, you can dissolve them, send their essence back to Tartarus."

"Tartarus?"

"A huge abyss in the Underworld, where the worst monsters come from. Kind of like a bottomless pit of evil. Anyway, once monsters dissolve, it usually takes months, even years before they can re-form again. But since this storm spirit Dylan got away—well, I don't know why he'd keep Hedge alive. Hedge was a protector, though. He knew the risks. Satyrs don't have mortal souls. He'll be reincarnated as a tree or a flower or something."

Piper tried to imagine Coach Hedge as a clump of very angry pansies. That made her feel even worse. She gazed at the cabins below, and an uneasy feeling settled over her. Hedge had died to get her here safely. Her mom's cabin was down there somewhere, which meant she had brothers and sisters, more people she'd have to betray. Do what we tell you, the voice had said. Or the consequences will be painful. She tucked her hands under her arms, trying to stop them from shaking. "It'll be okay," Annabeth promised.

"You have friends here. We've all been through a lot of weird stuff. We know what you're going through."

I doubt that, Piper thought. "I've been kicked out of five different schools the past five years," she said. "My dad's running out of places to put me."

"Only five?" Annabeth didn't sound like she was teasing. "Piper, we've all been labeled troublemakers. I ran away from home when I was seven."

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah. Most of us are diagnosed with attention deficit disorder or dyslexia, or both—"

"Leo's ADHD," Piper said.

"Right. It's because we're hardwired for battle. Restless, impulsive—we don't fit in with regular kids. You should hear how much trouble Sephie—" Her face darkened. "Anyway, demigods get a bad rep. How'd you get in trouble?" Usually when someone asked that question, Piper started a fight, or changed the subject, or caused some kind of distraction. But for some reason she found herself telling the truth.

"I steal stuff," she said. "Well, not really steal …"

"Is your family poor?" Piper laughed bitterly.

"Not even. I did it … I don't know why. For attention, I guess. My dad never had time for me unless I got in trouble."

Annabeth nodded. "I can relate. But you said you didn't really steal? What do you mean?"

"Well … nobody ever believes me. The police, teachers —even the people I took stuff from: they're so embarrassed, they'll deny what happened. But the truth is, I don't steal anything. I just ask people for things. And they give me stuff. Even a BMW convertible. I just asked. And the dealer said, 'Sure. Take it.' Later, he realized what he'd done, I guess. Then the police came after me." Piper waited. She was used to people calling her a liar, but when she looked up, Annabeth just nodded.

"Interesting. If your dad were the god, I'd say you're a child of Hermes, god of thieves. He can be pretty convincing. But your dad is mortal…"

"Very," Piper agreed.

Annabeth shook her head, apparently mystified. "I don't know, then. With luck, your mom will claim you tonight." Piper almost hoped it wouldn't happen. If her mom were a goddess, would she know about that dream? Would she know what Piper had been asked to do? Piper wondered if Olympian gods ever blasted their kids with lightning for being evil, or grounded them in the Underworld. Annabeth was studying her. Piper decided she was going to have to be careful what she said from now was obviously pretty smart.

If anyone could figure out Piper's secret … "Come on," Annabeth said at last. "There's something else I need to check." They hiked a little farther until they reached a cave near the top of the hill. Bones and old swords littered the ground. Torches flanked the entrance, which was covered in a velvet curtain embroidered with snakes. It looked like the set for some kind of twisted puppet show.

"What's in there?" Piper asked. Annabeth poked her head inside, then sighed and closed the curtains.

"Nothing, right now. A friend's place. I've been expecting her for a few days, but so far, nothing."

"Your friend lives in a cave?" Annabeth almost managed a smile. "Actually, her family has a luxury condo in Queens, and she goes to a finishing school in Connecticut. But when she's here at camp, yeah, she lives in the cave. She's our oracle, tells the future. I was hoping she could help me—"

"Find Sephie," Piper guessed. All the energy drained out of Annabeth, like she'd been holding it together for as long as she could. She sat down on a rock, and her expression was so full of pain, Piper felt like a voyeur. She forced herself to look away. Her eyes drifted to the crest of the hill, where a single pine tree dominated the skyline. Something glittered in its lowest branch—like a fuzzy gold bath mat. No … not a bath mat. It was a sheep's fleece. Okay, Piper thought. Greek camp. They've got a replica of the Golden Fleece. Then she noticed the base of the first she thought it was wrapped in a pile of massive purple cables. But the cables had reptilian scales, clawed feet, and a snakelike head with yellow eyes and smoking nostrils.

"That's—a dragon," she stammered. "That's the actual Golden Fleece?" Annabeth nodded, but it was clear she wasn't really listening. Her shoulders drooped. She rubbed her face and took a shaky breath.

"Sorry .A little tired."

"You look ready to drop," Piper said. "How long have been searching for your friend?"

"Three days, six hours, and about twelve minutes."

"And you've got no idea what happened to him?" Annabeth shook her head miserably.

"We were so excited because we both started winter break early. We met up at camp on Tuesday, figured we had three weeks together. It was going to be great. Then after the campfire, she told me good night, went back to her cabin, and in the morning, she was gone. We searched the whole camp. We contacted her mom. We've tried to reach her every way we know how. Nothing. He just disappeared."

Piper was thinking: Three days ago. The same night she'd had her dream. "Piper … about that. Maybe you should sit down."

Piper knew where this was going. Panic started building inside her, like her lungs were filling with water. "Look, I know Jason thought—he thought he just appeared at our school today. But that's not true. I've known him for four months."

"Piper," Annabeth said sadly. "It's the Mist."

"Missed … what?"

"M-i-s-t. It's a kind of veil separating the mortal world from the magic world. Mortal minds—they can't process strange stuff like gods and monsters, so the Mist bends reality. It makes mortals see things in a way they can understand —like their eyes might just skip over this valley completely, or they might look at that dragon and see a pile of cables." Piper swallowed.

"No. You said yourself I'm not a regular mortal. I'm a demigod."

"Even demigods can be affected. I've seen it lots of times. Monsters infiltrate some place like a school, pass themselves off as human, and everyone thinks they remember that person. They believe he's always been around. The Mist can change memories, even create memories of things that never happened—"

"But Jason's not a monster!" Piper insisted. "He's a human guy, or demigod, or whatever you want to call him. My memories aren't fake. They're so real. The time we set Coach Hedge's pants on fire. The time Jason and I watched a meteor shower on the dorm roof and I finally got the stupid guy to kiss me..." She found herself rambling, telling Annabeth about her whole semester at Wilderness School. She'd liked Jason from the first week they'd met. He was so nice to her, and so patient, he could even put up with hyperactive Leo and his stupid jokes. He'd accepted her for herself and didn't judge her because of the stupid things she'd done. They'd spent hours talking, looking at the stars, and eventually—finally—holding that couldn't be fake.

Annabeth pursed her lips. "Piper, your memories are a lot sharper than most. I'll admit that, and I don't know why that is. But if you know him so well—"

"I do!"

"Then where is he from?"

Piper felt like she'd been hit between the eyes. "He must have told me, but—"

"Did you ever notice his tattoo before today? Did he ever tell you anything about his parents, or his friends, or his last school?"

"I—I don't know, but—"

"Piper, what's his last name?" Her mind went blank. She didn't know Jason's last name. How could that be? She started to cry. She felt like a total fool, but she sat down on the rock next to Annabeth and just fell to pieces. It was too much. Did everything that was good in her stupid, miserable life have to be taken away? Yes, the dream had told her. Yes, unless you do exactly what we say.

"Hey," Annabeth said. "We'll figure it out. Jason's here now. Who knows? Maybe it'll work out with you guys for real." Not likely, Piper thought. Not if the dream had told her the truth. But she couldn't say that. She brushed a tear from her cheek.

"You brought me up here so no one would see me blubbering, huh?"

Annabeth shrugged. "I figured it would be hard for you. I know what it's like to lose your friend."

"But I still can't believe … I know we had something. And now it's just gone, like he doesn't even recognize me. If he really did just show up today, then why? How'd he get there? Why can't he remember anything?"

"Good questions," Annabeth said. "Hopefully Chiron can figure that out. But for now, we need to get you settled. You ready to go back down?" Piper gazed at the crazy assortment of cabins in the valley. Her new home, a family who supposedly understood her—but soon they'd be just another bunch of people she'd disappointed, just another place she'd been kicked out of. You'll betray them for us, the voice had warned. Or you'll lose everything. She didn't have a choice.

"Yeah," she lied. "I'm ready." On the central green, a group of campers was playing basketball. They were incredible shots. Nothing bounced off the rim. Three-pointers went in automatically.

"Apollo's cabin," Annabeth explained. "Bunch of showoffs with missile weapons—arrows, basketballs." They walked past a central fire pit, where two guys were hacking at each other with swords.

"Real blades?" Piper noted. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"That's sort of the point," Annabeth said. "Uh, sorry. Bad pun. That's my cabin over there. Number Six." She nodded to a gray building with a carved owl over the door. Through the open doorway, Piper could see bookshelves, weapon displays, and one of those computerized SMART Boards they have in classrooms. Two girls were drawing a map that looked like a battle diagram. "Speaking of blades," Annabeth said, "come here." She led Piper around the side of the cabin, to a big metal shed that looked like it was meant for gardening tools.

Annabeth unlocked it, and inside were not gardening tools, unless you wanted to make war on your tomato plants. The shed was lined with all sorts of weapons—from swords to spears to clubs like Coach Hedge's. "Every demigod needs a weapon," Annabeth said. "Hephaestus makes the best, but we have a pretty good selection, too. Athena's all about strategy—matching the right weapon to the right person. Let's see …" Piper didn't feel much like shopping for deadly objects, but she knew Annabeth was trying to do something nice for her. Annabeth handed her a massive sword, which Piper could hardly lift.

"No," they both said at once. Annabeth rummaged a little farther in the shed and brought out something else.

"A shotgun?" Piper asked.

"Mossberg 500." Annabeth checked the pump action like it was no big deal. "Don't worry. It doesn't hurt humans. It's modified to shoot Celestial bronze, so it only kills monsters."

"Um, I don't think that's my style," Piper said.

"Mmm, yeah," Annabeth agreed. "Too flashy." She put the shotgun back and started poking through a She put the shotgun back and started poking through a rack of crossbows when something in the corner of the shed caught Piper's eye.

"What is that?" she said.

"A knife?" Annabeth dug it out and blew the dust off the scabbard. It looked like it hadn't seen the light of day in centuries. "I don't know, Piper." Annabeth sounded uneasy. "I don't think you want this one. Swords are usually better."

"You use a knife." Piper pointed to the one strapped to Annabeth's belt.

"Yeah, but …" Annabeth shrugged. "Well, take a look if you want." The sheath was worn black leather, bound in bronze. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy. The polished wood handle fit beautifully in Piper's hand. When she unsheathed it, she found a triangular blade eighteen inches long—bronze gleaming like it had been polished yesterday. The edges were deadly sharp. Her reflection in the blade caught her by surprise. She looked older, more serious, not as scared as she felt.

"It suits you," Annabeth admitted. "That kind of blade is called a parazonium. It was mostly ceremonial, carried by high ranking officers in the Greek armies. It showed you were a person of power and wealth, but in a fight, it could protect you just fine."

"I like it," Piper said. "

Why didn't you think it was right?" Annabeth exhaled. "That blade has a long story. Most people would be afraid to claim it. Its first owner … well, things didn't turn out too well for her. Her name was Helen." Piper let that sink in.

"Wait, you mean the Helen? Helen of Troy?" Annabeth nodded. Suddenly Piper felt like she should be handling the dagger with surgical gloves. "And it's just sitting in your toolshed?"

"We're surrounded by Ancient Greek stuff," Annabeth said. "This isn't a museum. Weapons like that—they're meant to be used. They're our heritage as demigods. That was a wedding present from Menelaus, Helen's first husband. She named the dagger Katoptris."

"Meaning?"

"Mirror," Annabeth said. "Looking glass. Probably because that's the only thing Helen used it for. I don't think it's ever seen battle." Piper looked at the blade again. For a moment, her own image stared up at her, but then the reflection changed. She saw flames, and a grotesque face like something carved from bedrock. She heard the same laughter as in her dream. She saw her dad in chains, tied to a post in front of a roaring bonfire. She dropped the blade.

"Piper?" Annabeth shouted to the Apollo kids on the court, "Medic! I need some help over here!"

"No, it's—it's okay," Piper managed.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I just …" She had to control herself. With trembling fingers, she picked up the dagger. "I just got overwhelmed. So much happening today. But … I want to keep the dagger, if that's okay." Annabeth hesitated. Then she waved off the Apollo kids.

"Okay, if you're sure. You turned really pale, there. I thought you were having a seizure or something."

"I'm fine," Piper promised, though her heart was still racing. "Is there … um, a phone at camp? Can I call my dad?" Annabeth's gray eyes were almost as unnerving as the dagger blade. She seemed to be calculating a million possibilities, trying to read Piper's thoughts.

"We aren't allowed phones," she said. "Most demigods, if they use a cell phone, it's like sending up a signal, letting monsters know where you are. But … I've got one." She slipped it out of her pocket.

"Kind of against the rules, but if it can be our secret …" Piper took it gratefully, trying not to let her hands shake. She stepped away from Annabeth and turned to face the commons area. She called her dad's private line, even though she knew what would happen. Voice mail. She'd been trying for three days, ever since the dream. Wilderness School only allowed phone privileges once a day, but she'd called every evening, and gotten nowhere. Reluctantly she dialed the other number. Her dad's personal assistant answered immediately.

"Mr. McLean's office."

"Jane," Piper said, gritting her teeth. "Where's my dad?" Jane was silent for a moment, probably wondering if she could get away with hanging up.

"Piper, I thought you weren't supposed to call from school."

"Maybe I'm not at school," Piper said. "Maybe I ran away to live among the woodland creatures."

"Mmm." Jane didn't sound concerned. "Well, I'll tell him you called."

"Where is he?"

"Out."

"You don't know, do you?" Piper lowered her voice, hoping Annabeth was too nice to eavesdrop. "When are you going to call the police, Jane? He could be in trouble."

"Piper, we are not going to turn this into a media circus. I'm sure he's fine. He does take off occasionally. He always comes back."

"So it's true. You don't know—"

"I have to go, Piper," Jane snapped. "Enjoy school." The line went dead. Piper cursed. She walked back to Annabeth and handed her the phone.

"No luck?" Annabeth asked. Piper didn't answer. She didn't trust herself not to start crying again. Annabeth glanced at the phone display and hesitated. "Your last name is McLean? Sorry, it's not my business. But that sounds really familiar."

"Common name."

"Yeah, I guess. What does your dad do?"

"He's got a degree in the arts," Piper said automatically. "He's a Cherokee artist." Her standard response. Not a lie, just not the whole truth. Most people, when they heard that, figured her dad sold Indian souvenirs at a roadside stand on a reservation. Sitting Bull bobble-heads, wampum necklaces, Big Chief tablets—that kind of thing. "Oh." Annabeth didn't look convinced, but she put the phone away.

"You feeling okay? Want to keep going?" Piper fastened her new dagger to her belt and promised herself that later, when she was alone, she'd figure out how it worked.

"Sure," she said. "I want to see everything." All the cabins were cool, but none of them struck Piper as hers. No burning signs—wombats or otherwise—appeared over her head. Cabin Eight was entirely silver and glowed like moonlight. "Artemis?" Piper guessed.

"You know Greek mythology," Annabeth said.

"I did some reading when my dad was working on a project last year."

"I thought he did Cherokee art." Piper bit back a curse.

"Oh, right. But—you know, he does other stuff too." Piper thought she'd blown it: McLean, Greek mythology. Thankfully, Annabeth didn't seem to make the connection.

"Anyway," Annabeth continued, "Artemis is goddess of the moon, goddess of hunting. But no campers. Artemis was an eternal maiden, so she doesn't have any kids."

"Oh." That kind of bummed Piper out. She'd always liked the stories of Artemis, and figured she would make a cool mom.

"Well, there the Hunters of Artemis," Annabeth amended. "They visit sometimes. They're not the children of Artemis, but they're her handmaidens—this band of immortal teenage girls who adventure together and hunt monsters and stuff."

Piper perked up. "That sounds cool. They get to be immortal?"

"Unless they die in combat, or break their vows. Did I mention they have to swear off boys? No dating—ever. For eternity."

"Oh," Piper said. "Never mind." Annabeth laughed. For a moment she looked almost happy, and Piper thought she'd be a cool friend to hang out with in better times. Forget it, Piper reminded herself. You're not going to make any friends here. Not once they find out. They passed the next cabin, Number Ten, which was decorated like a Barbie house with lace curtains, a pink door, and potted carnations in the windows. They walked by the doorway, and the smell of perfume almost made Piper gag.

"Gah, is that where supermodels go to die?"

Annabeth smirked. "Aphrodite's cabin. Goddess of love. Drew is the head counselor."

"Figures," Piper grumbled.

"They're not all bad," Annabeth said. "The last head counselor we had was great."

"What happened to her?" Annabeth's expression darkened. "We should keep moving." They looked at the other cabins, but Piper just got more depressed. She wondered if she could be the daughter of Demeter, the farming goddess. Then again, Piper killed every plant she ever touched. Athena was cool. Or maybe Hecate, the magic goddess. But it didn't really matter. Even here, where everyone was supposed to find a lost parent, she knew she would still end up the unwanted kid. She was not looking forward to the campfire tonight.

"We started with the twelve Olympian gods," Annabeth explained. "Male gods on the left, female on the right. Then last year, we added a whole bunch of new cabins for the other gods who didn't have thrones on Olympus—Hecate, Hades, Iris—"

"What are the two big ones on the end?" Piper asked.

Annabeth frowned. "Zeus and Hera. King and queen of the gods." Piper headed that way, and Annabeth followed, though she didn't act very excited. The Zeus cabin reminded Piper of a bank. It was white marble with big columns out front and polished bronze doors emblazoned with lightning bolts. Hera's cabin was smaller but done in the same style, except the doors were carved with peacock feather designs, shimmering in different colors. Unlike the other cabins, which were all noisy and open and full of activity, the Zeus and Hera cabins looked closed and silent.

"Are they empty?" Piper asked.

Annabeth nodded. "Zeus went a long time without having any children. Well, mostly. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, the eldest brothers among the gods—they're called the Big Three. Their kids are really powerful, really dangerous. For the last seventy years or so, they tried to avoid having demigod children."

"Tried to avoid it?"

"Sometimes they … um, cheated. I've got a friend, Thalia Grace, who's the daughter of Zeus. But she gave up camp life and became a Hunter of Artemis. My friend, Sephie, she's a daughter of Poseidon. And there's a kid who shows up sometimes, Nico—son of Hades. Except for them, there are no demigod children of the Big Three least, not that we know of."

"And Hera?" Piper looked at the peacock-decorated doors. The cabin bothered her, though she wasn't sure why.

"Goddess of marriage." Annabeth's tone was carefully controlled, like she was trying to avoid cursing. "She doesn't have kids with anyone but Zeus. So, yeah, no demigods. The cabin's just honorary."

"You don't like her," Piper noticed.

"We have a long history," Annabeth admitted. "I thought we'd made peace, but when Sephie disappeared … I got this weird dream vision from her."

"Telling you to come get us," Piper said. "But you thought Sephie would be there."

"It's probably better I don't talk about it," Annabeth said. "I've got nothing good to say about Hera right now."

Piper looked down the base of the doors. "So who goes in here?"

"No one. The cabin is just honorary, like I said. No one goes in."

"Someone does." Piper pointed at a footprint on the dusty threshold. On instinct, she pushed the doors and they swung open easily. Annabeth stepped back.

"Um, Piper, I don't think we should—"

"We're supposed to do dangerous stuff, right?" And Piper walked inside. Hera's cabin was not someplace Piper would want to live. It was as cold as a freezer, with a circle of white columns around a central statue of the goddess, ten feet tall, seated on a throne in flowing golden robes. Piper had always thought of Greek statues as white with blank eyes, but this one was brightly painted so it looked almost human—except huge. Hera's piercing eyes seemed to follow Piper. At the goddess's feet, a fire burned in a bronze brazier. Piper wondered who tended it if the cabin was always empty. A stone hawk sat on Hera's shoulder, and in her hand was a staff topped with a lotus flower. The goddess's hair was done in black plaits. Her face smiled, but the eyes were cold and calculating, as if she were saying: Mother knows best. Now don't cross me or I will have to step on you. There was nothing else in the cabin—no beds, no furniture, no bathroom, no windows, nothing that anyone could actually use to live. For a goddess of home and marriage, Hera's place reminded Piper of a tomb.

No, this wasn't her mom. At least Piper was sure of that. She hadn't come in here because she felt a good connection, but because her sense of dread was stronger here. Her dream —that horrible ultimatum she'd been handed—had something to do with this cabin. She froze. They weren't alone. Behind the statue, at a little altar in the back, stood a figure covered in a black shawl. Only her hands were visible, palms up. She seemed to be chanting something like a spell or a prayer.

Annabeth gasped. "Rachel?" The other girl turned. She dropped her shawl, revealing a mane of curly red hair and a freckled face that didn't go with the seriousness of the cabin or the black shawl at all. She looked about seventeen, a totally normal teen in a green blouse and tattered jeans covered with marker doodles. Despite the cold floor, she was barefoot.

"Hey!" She ran to give Annabeth a hug. "I'm so sorry! I came as fast as I could." They talked for a few minutes about Annabeth's friend and how there was no news, et cetera, until finally Annabeth remembered Piper, who was standing there feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm being rude," Annabeth apologized. "Rachel, this is Piper, one of the half-bloods we rescued today. Piper, this is Rachel Elizabeth Dare, our oracle."

"The friend who lives in the cave," Piper guessed.

Rachel grinned. "That's me."

"So you're an oracle?" Piper asked. "You can tell the future?"

"More like the future mugs me from time to time," Rachel said. "I speak prophecies. The oracle's spirit kind of hijacks me every once in a while and speaks important stuff that doesn't make any sense to anybody. But yeah, the prophecies tell the future."

"Oh." Piper shifted from foot to foot. "That's cool."

Rachel laughed. "Don't worry. Everybody finds it a little creepy. Even me. But usually I'm harmless."

"You're a demigod?"

"Nope," Rachel said. "Just mortal."

"Then what are you …" Piper waved her hand around the room. Rachel's smile faded. She glanced at Annabeth, then back at Piper.

"Just a hunch. Something about this cabin and Sephie's disappearance. They're connected somehow. I've learned to follow my hunches, especially the last month, since the gods went silent."

"Went silent?" Piper asked. Rachel frowned at Annabeth.

"You haven't told her yet?"

"I was getting to that," Annabeth said.

"Piper, for the last month … well, it's normal for the gods not to talk to their children very much, but usually we can count on some messages now and then. Some of us can even visit Olympus. I spent practically all semester at the Empire State Building."

"Excuse me?"

"The entrance to Mount Olympus these days."

"Oh," Piper said. "Sure, why not?"

"Annabeth was redesigning Olympus after it was damaged in the Titan War," Rachel explained. "She's an amazing architect. You should see the salad bar—"

"Anyway," Annabeth said, "starting about a month ago, Olympus fell silent. The entrance closed, and no one could get in. Nobody knows why. It's like the gods have sealed themselves off. Even my mom won't answer my prayers, and our camp director, Dionysus, was recalled."

"Your camp director was the god of … wine?"

"Yeah, it's a—" "Long story," Piper guessed. "Right. Go on."

"That's it, really," Annabeth said. "Demigods still get claimed, but nothing else. No messages. No visits. No sign the gods are even listening. It's like something has happened —something really bad. Then Sephie disappeared."

"And Jason showed up on our field trip," Piper supplied. "With no memory."

"Who's Jason?" Rachel asked.

"My—" Piper stopped herself before she could say "boyfriend," but the effort made her chest hurt. "My friend. But Annabeth, you said Hera sent you a dream vision."

"Right," Annabeth said. "The first communication from a god in a month, and it's Hera, the least helpful goddess, and she contacts me, her least favorite demigod. She tells me I'll find out what happened to Sephie if I go to the Grand Canyon skywalk and look for a guy with one shoe. Instead, I find you guys, and the guy with one shoe is Jason. It doesn't make sense."

"Something bad is happening," Rachel agreed. She looked at Piper, and Piper felt an overwhelming desire to tell them about her dream, to confess that she knew what was happening—at least part of the story. And the bad stuff was only beginning.

"Guys," she said. "I—I need to—" Before she could continue, Rachel's body stiffened. Her eyes began to glow with a greenish light, and she grabbed Piper by the shoulders. Piper tried to back away, but Rachel's hands were like steel clamps. Free me, she said. But it wasn't Rachel's voice. It sounded like an older woman, speaking from somewhere far away, down a long, echoing pipe. Free me, Piper McLean, or the earth shall swallow us. It must be by the solstice.

The room started spinning. Annabeth tried to separate Piper from Rachel, but it was no use. Green smoke enveloped them, and Piper was no longer sure if she was awake or dreaming. The giant statue of the goddess seemed to rise from its throne. It leaned over Piper, its eyes boring into her. The statue's mouth opened, its breath like horribly thick perfume. It spoke in the same echoing voice: Our enemies stir. The fiery one is only the first. Bow to his will, and their king shall rise, dooming us all. FREE ME! Piper's knees buckled, and everything went black.

AN

Hi guys, New project.

Yeah i know, oh no, he's going to leave the others!

I'll Try not to let them rot to dust, but im mainly starting this because i was stuck for what to do on my other works. I'm toying around with a new chapter for both Perseus - Eldest of Kronos and Filius Mortis.

For the latter, I'm completely stuck on the next chapter, and am seriously considering skipping right to when the battle of Othrys happens.

The devout followers of HOO may notice that this is basically the first couple chapters of the Lost hero. I'm undecided on whether to do the rest of the story like this, or just focus on important plot points throughout.

I think that the angle I'm playing here for Ash isn't one that's really explored much, with the Son of Artemis thing and the fact that I'm using the general amnesty for traitor demigods to bring him in. I like the tension he builds with the other characters who he was basically at war with in the past.

Constructive criticism is always welcome, as well as any other encouraging reviews. It's 2:15AM here in the UK, so see you later guys when I upload the next chapter to whatever story makes a breakthrough in my mind first. [most likely this one]

Stay safe and Well.

-Dududuehhehe