Chiron tried to get me into Cabin three, he really did.

And I commend his ability to strive toward a hopeless goal without faltering.

He's one stubborn mule. And only half literally!

Anyway, my camp reputation, which had already been a bit high due to my defeat of the Minotaur, hit the ceiling when everyone actually witnessed me killing the hellhound.

I don't see why it's such a big deal. I barely even did anything...

Chapter Ten

Being in your own cabin wasn't so bad, Riker thought. At least, looking at the pros. The cons, the cons were terrible. Loneliness, having no one to joke with in the middle of the night, no cabin mates to play pranks on like back in Cabin Eleven.

But the pros outweighed those. He didn't have to share anything with anybody, he called his own curfew—aside from the curfew that the harpies set, of course, but it wasn't like he ever listened to that one, and he sure as hell wasn't about to set limits on himself. He still sat with Ares table during all meals—it was weird, according to the rest of the camp; Cabin Five seemed to have adopted the stray, single son of Poseidon, and were awfully protective of him. He even got to pick all his own activities, so there were no more forced-art lessons with the satyrs, thank the gods.

Nobody had actually mentioned the hellhound, but Riker wasn't stupid enough to think no ones was talking about it. He heard the whispers, behind his back. The attack had seemed to scare everyone, which Riker at first hadn't understood—really, the mutt hadn't even been all that strong. Still, once he thought about it, the politics behind the attack, or the mere existence of the hellhound behind the camp borders, was terrifying. He'd grilled Orion and Clarisse on everything they knew, and had found out that monsters couldn't—shouldn't be able to get inside the camp. Camp Half-Blood had long been considered one of the only absolute safe places in most of the campers lives. To see that one of their own would have had to summon the beast in—well, it didn't bode well for anyone.

Most of the campers in Hermes cabin were too nervous to have sword lessons with Riker, after seeing what he'd done to their siblings and the Apollo campers that had chased after Matt in the woods that night. So the slot in his activities schedule labeled "Sword Class" mainly just became a sparring session between Luke and him. Luke was pretty good himself, and pushed him as hard as he could go, unafraid to leave a mark behind, so Riker hadn't wanted to get rid of that time of his day. After their spars, Riker got down and dusty brawling with the Ares campers, since they held their wrestling hour in the arena after Luke and his cabin used it. When they were finished, it was always either an immediate shower—no matter what some may say, Ares campers secretly hated being dirty for prolonged periods of time, and Riker couldn't agree more—or they all ran down to the lake for a prompt cabin swim-party. Clarisse told him they'd never really don that before, ever. But everyone loved swimming with Riker. And he had fun aiming jets of water under people and shooting them five to ten feet into the air. The unscheduled swim partied at the lake were always a blast, and sometimes Cabins Hephaestus and Aphrodite found themselves joining in. Turned out, children of the Love goddess absolutely loved swimming. The reason being fondness of the actual sport or just being able to see their own reflections in the clear water remained unconfirmed.

Annabeth still met up with him to go over advanced Greek and Latin—at least, that's what the official documents said. Now, it was more him teaching her how to speak Japanese and Korean. He most like;y would have ditched that hour of activities, if not for the knowledge that the blonde would skin him alive in his bed and then chuck him off the roof to be devoured by harpies if he suddenly up and disappeared from their little get-togethers.

Aside from that, the Apollo campers seemed to blame him for their sudden archery class troubles. It wasn't like it was his fault that their bow string kept snapping. Their cabin was now officially "cursed," according to the Camp Cabin Magical Status list that hung nailed to a post just outside the dinning pavilion.

And there were two Hermes campers—the Stoll twins—that were caught up in some kind of prank war with him. He wasn't entirely sure how it started, but they were now casually pulling tricks on each other as easily as breathing, and Riker once even teamed up with Travis to get back at Connor for something that had gotten the two fighting. Connor then enlisted his help to prank back Travis, and he soon ended up being the middle man.

He was actually glad for them. They were a bit like most of the Ares kids; not treating him differently than they would anybody else, aside from their agreement not to prank him too extensively. But, ah well, he could do with some friend privileges here and there.

Another funny thing—it appeared that this "Mist" entity that Chiron had mentioned to him practically adored him. Most of the time, the centaur explained, the Mist made the demigod out to be the villain, but according to the newspaper, the mortals were under several different conspiracy theory-induced impressions that he was some kind of secret agent for the CIA, a government agent posing as an ex-pizza delivery guy, or a serial killer-hunter. The teen CIA agent/spy seemed to be the most popular story. The articles went on to say that the CIA neither confirmed nor denied any suspicions of the public, and that Little Caesars had not been available for comment.

He, Clarisse and Jesse had found it all very hilarious, and they'd spent the entire weekend laughing over the article.

His time spent at the camp so far, an enjoyable two weeks, had let Riker somewhat forget how exactly he'd come to be their, but he always remembered again, in his dreams. Flashes of gold light, his mom's disappearing, the Minotaur's moaning—it all came to the front of his mind when he slept, no matter how far back he'd pushed it during the day. It always came right back.

Until now. This dream, it had been different. Strange—though not as strange as the dream he'd first had when he'd just arrived at the camp. No, that was a different kind of crazy. This dream was about a horse fighting san eagle on the beach during a thunder storm. And apparently, the eagle had won. Or was about to, but Riker didn't get to see the verdict. He'd woken up before anything had happened.

But that's why he was here, now, sitting across from Chiron at the table in the big house. He'd been sleeping in his reserved bunk in Cabin Five, when he'd had the dream. A worried looking Jesse had shook him awake, when Grover the stalking satyr had knocked on the door and told him that Mr. D wanted to see him. Jesse and Clarisse were currently hiding under the window ledge, eavesdropping. Riker knew that they knew he was aware they were there, and Riker didn't mind. Chiron didn't seem to notice their presence anyway.

On the way up to the big house, everyone had seemed to be going on with their normal activities despite the enormous thunder storm gathering overhead, but the overall mood of the camp was tense and anxious, as if waiting for the strings that held all their lives in place to snap. When the two had arrived in the living room or the large, white mansion, Chiron and Mr. D, in all his leopard striped Hawaiian shirt glory, sat at the table. They'd been playing pinochle against invisible opponents. Riker was itching to request a game of his own. The cards just floated in the air!

"Well," the wine god had eventually sighed, folding his cards on the tabletop and looking up lazily. "Come on over and sit down, Jackson. And don't expect me to hail your presence just because old Barnacle Beard's your father."

Thunder rolled overhead, making Grover skittish, but the director just waved his hand. "Blah blah, blah."

Riker snickered and sat down, stretching. He shot the lazing middle-aged god a small smile. "Nice one. Me an' my friends have been calling him Spongebob, and such. He has a beard?"

A slow, sardonic grin spread across Mr. D's face.

"If I didn't enjoy you're wit so much," he warned, "I think I'd turn you into a dolphin and send you back to your father."

Riker only leaned back and braced his hand behind his head with a smug smile.

"But," the man sighed almost disappointedly. "There's another option. But it's damn foolish."

The other three—plus the two outside the window—watched as he stood up, and the invisible player's cards fell to the table. Game was over, Riker assumed. Damn, and he was hoping for a chance to play against them.

'I'm off to Olympus for the the emergency meeting." Dionysus announced, and Riker's gaze slide over to meet his. "If you're still here when I get back, I'm turning you into an Atlantic bottlenose. And if you're as sensible as I think you are, you'll find that a much more appealing option than what Chiron wants for you."

Riker watched, confused, as the god snapped his fingers, and disappeared, leaving a holographic after-image that melted away after a few moments.

Chiron sighed. "Sit down, Grover."

Riker raised an eyebrow from his already seated position, and the satyr let out a nervous bleat before cautiously taking the chair the camp director had just vacated, looking for all the world that Mr. D was about to come back and smite him for sitting in his chair.

Chiron leveled Riker with a stare. "Riker, tell me. What did you think of the hellhound?"

Riker blinked. "The mutt? It wasn't too difficult, I mean the Son of Pasiphae was more difficult, in my book, and he wasn't even that taxing—well," he amended, "if I hadn't had glass shards sticking out of my back. But the hellhound was more instinct than anything. Didn't take much."

Chiron examined his face closely, and Riker yawned. It as too early to be having serious discussions. "There are far worse out there than the hellhound, Mr. Jackson. Than the Minotaur even, though he is one of the more famous monsters." The centaur leaned back; he was in his wheelchair again today. Riker didn't see the point. No one would mind his horse half here, and the teen knew for a fact that the wheelchair was uncomfortable, the centaur himself had often complained about it. Why did Chiron feel the need to hide?

Riker cleared his throat. "'Pologies, sir, but why did you call me here?"

Chiron coughed uncomfortably. "Ah, that's the hard part. Quest details..."

Riker sat straight. "Quest?" He'd heard about Quests from Luke. His hadn't turned out so well, he'd said. That's where he'd gotten his cool-looking facial scar, he'd said. He glanced between the serious gaze of Chiron and the nervous stare of Grover, before sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs. "Ah. Zeus, and my undeserving-of-the-title father. They're fighting over something... something that was stolen, correct?"

Chiron and Grover exchanged glances, and Riker was glad they seemed too distracted to hear the shuffling Clarisse and Jesse were making outside under the window seal. Hadn't he commended Jesse on his stealth abilities just the other week?

"How did you know that?" Chiron asked, bringing the raven's attention back to the matter at hand.

Riker blinked. "Weather's been weird since Christmas—the winter solstice. Thats when the god's like to meet up and have their family reunion, right? Annie-girl said something about a theft. I dreamed about a horse and an eagle fighting. It wasn't too hard to put the pieces together."

Chiron rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You really are smarter than I give you credit for, Mr. Jackson."

Riker smiled at him, cheekily.

"Nevertheless," the centaur went on, "you are correct. You're father and Zeus are, currently, in their worst quarrel in centuries. Zeus' lightning bolt is missing and he's blamed his brother for theft."

Riker scoffed. "That's completely retarded." He ignored their startled, nervous looks, and the sudden thunder that rang overhead. "God's can't steal other god's weapons of power. He should know that, he's their king!"

Chiron frowned in concern. "Riker, you shouldn't carelessly insult the god's so. They can hear you."

"That's the point, my dear centaur." Riker tilted his head. "So, who stole it?"

"You did."

Riker paused, blinking. "Ah—'scuse me?" He asked, sounding highly offended.

"At least—" Chiron quickly went on to explain. He should know better; such dramatics didn't work well with Riker Jackson. "That's what Zeus thinks. He and Poseidon had an argument during the last solstice meeting. Usual nonsense: "Mother Rhea always loved you best," "Air disasters are far more spectacular than sea disasters," et cetera."

"Wow." Riker deadpanned, slightly stunned. "Thats... so childish."

Chiron hummed and Grover bleated out a nervous laugh, glancing at the sky. "Afterwards, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, gone, right out from under his nose. He immediately, of course, blamed Poseidon."

"Of course," Riker muttered.

"He believes you're father—"

"Not my dad." Riker objected, but Chiron only pinned him with a knowing stare.

"—convinced a human hero to take it for him. Zeus' reasons for suspicion aren't truly that far fetched, however. The Cyclopes forges are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over them—"

"Besides the fact that most of them are his children," Riker interjected, and Chiron held up a finger, consenting to his point.

"Zeus believes his brother has taken the master bolt and is having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was the hero that Poseidon used to make the theft." Chiron leaned forward and steepled his fingers. "Now that Poseidon has claimed you as his son, Zeus believes he's found his thief."

"Since I was in New York when the theft happened." Riker mumbled. "Yeah, okay. Still seemed pretty far fetched to me. I mean, if Poseidon really was planing to overthrow Zeus, why would he make his plan so obvious? Zeus is just paranoid."

"Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before," Chiron pointed out.

"The golden net Hephaestus made," Riker acknowledged. "Poseidon, Hera and a few other gods got together and trapped Zeus in it. Wouldn't let him out until he promised on the Styx to be a better ruler. I fail to see how they think he's kept that promise. Styx promises don't mean much, anymore, seeing the god's break so many of their own."

Chiron ignored his mumbling and nodded. "Zeus hasn't trusted Poseidon since—"

"Probably never has."

"Child..."

"Sorry."

Chiron sighed. "Poseidon denies any part of the master bolts theft, of course. Took great offense at the accusation, in fact. They've been arguing back and forth about it for months now."

Riker spoke up, "Theft doesn't seem like Poseidon's style. But he'd be too proud to try and convince Zeus that. How stupid."

"Zeus has demanded the return of his master bold by the summer solstice." Chiron told him. "That's June twenty-first, and Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. You're arrival has flamed Zeus' temper, and now nether of them will back down. Unless..."

"Unless someone breaks them up with hard, cold proof than one or the other is right." Riker interrupted. "Unless that lighting bold is found and returned to Thunderwear before the solstice."

"If not," Chiron agreed. "There will be war."

Riker let out a sigh and fell back in his chair. "How stupid," he repeated. It wasn't even nine and he was already tired again.

"What better peace offering than having the son of Poseidon return Zeus' master bolt to him?" Chiron said, and Riker let out a groan. "But, you must take up the quest, officially."

Riker sat back up and eyed him thoughtfully. "I have a feeling you don't mean I'll just be signing papers..." Chiron looked grim. "Right. So do I finally get to see what's in the attic, now? Luke kinda told me some stories," he added on to soothe their wary looks. "Nothing definite, but I know something up there has to do with quests. Visiting something."

Chiron let out a sigh. "Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you, Mr. Jackson. You're different from any student I've taught." At Riker's proud grin, he rolled his brown eyes and began collecting the cards off the table. "You're required to seek out the Oracle of Delphi—who, yes, is kept in the attic—and obtain a prophecy having to do with your quest."

"Right," Riker hopped up, out of his chair. "Off I go."

But he was just stepping toward the stairs when he paused. "Ah... You keep the Oracle... in the attic?" He blinked.

They only stared at him. Grover bit his lip.

"I'm... "Riker swallowed. "Um, I'm guessing that... well..." He sighed. "Oracles dead, isn't it?"

Chiron gave a sad smile.

"Right," Riker blinked, squaring his shoulders. He suddenly didn't want to go into the attic. He was out of this house. He wanted to go home, because any place that kept corpses that tell the future—which would require them to talk—in their attic was not the place for him, and—

"Um... I'll just... go..."

He cautiously mounted the first two steps, before turning around with a last minute thought and shouted. "Jesse, 'Reese, you better be sitting at that table when I come down, ya hear?!" Then he sucked in a deep breath and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the sudden exclamations that were sounding behind him.

"Mr. Wolfe," Chiron greeted. "Miss La'Rue. How nice of you to join us."

"Damn him," Clarisse hissed under her breath, glaring at the stairs. "He totally just sold us down the river!" Jesse stood next to the steaming girl, nervously glancing from the bottom of the stairs, to what he could see of the top of them; and where he had last seen Riker. Underneath their irritation, the two of them were anxious to see their friend come back down.

"Please, take a seat." The camp activities director motioned to the two empty seats, and they cautiously took them, Jesse lowering himself slowly into the chair Riker had been sitting in.

"May I ask why you two were eavesdropping on our conversation?" Chiron inquired pleasantly, but they could see the warning glint behind the kind brown orbs.

Jesse shifted, looking at his knees. "Um, Riker's our friend? No one ever gets called to the big house, usually, so we thought he was in trouble."

"And we were right." Clarisse nearly crooned. "A quest. He could die! Do you remember what happened to Castellan?" She stood up and slammed her hands on the table, glowering over at Chiron, who was calmly shuffling a deck of cards. "You gotta let us go with him! We'll be his plus twos. Three on a quest anyways, right?"

The centaur suddenly looked very awkward. "Oh—erm, well. That's the—"

"Chiron, you can't!" A new voice shrieked, and the two Ares campers jumped out of their seats. They turned in unison to glare as Annabeth Chase shimmered into their view, pulling off her Yankee cap. She looked panicked. "I'm the one he's suppose to go with!"

"You?" Clarisse sneered before Chiron could even open his mouth. "Why would he pick you to be on his quest team? You're not even his friend!"

Annabeth shifted on her feet nervously, clutching her cap in her fists. "I-I've been waiting since forever to go on a quest! Chiron had a prophecy that said I had to wait! For Riker! It's my destiny," she scowled. "If I don't go now I'll never get to see the outside world."

"That's not our problem," Jesse growled. "The fates dealt you a bad hand—that's too damn bad. We're going with him, we're his friend. Not you!"

They argued back and forth for a while more, Chiron sitting slumped in his seat, attention focused on his cards. Grover stood off the the side wringing his hands together with a crestfallen look on his face.

"I think," Chiron finally spoke up, and the campers quieted—but the two Ares siblings still wore glares on their faces. "That's it's really up to Riker to decide. The quest members are chosen by the quest leader, after all. That's how it's always been," he gave a stiff, hard-faced Annabeth an apologetic look.

"That how it works?" A voice asked from the doorway, and the group spun around to face Riker. He was looking at them, amused, but his face was slightly pale and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He bit his lip, on and off a few times—a nervous habit—before walking over and jumping up to sit on the table. "Ah," he gave a sigh. "It's obvious then. Jes and 'Reese will be coming with me."

The two Ares campers let out victorious yells and high fived each other as Grover slipped out the door. Annabeth's face was like steel. She was trembling and her knuckled were white and she squeezed her baseball hat in her hands.

Riker turned to her and blinked, as if just noticing her. "Sorry Annie-girl. Our language lessons will have to wait 'till I get back."

Annabeth let out a shuddering breath and shut her eyes tightly. She slapped her cap onto her head, and Riker's eyebrows shot up as she vanished from sight. The room was silent as the sound of pounding footsteps hurried out of the big house and down the path to the cabins.

Riker spun around the face the others. He looked confused. "What? What did I say?"

Chiron sighed, setting the cards back down on the table in a neat stack. "Annabeth was hoping to go on your quest with you. She's never been outside the camp, not since she was seven, what with being a year-rounder. I received a prophecy from the Oracle when she first asked to go on a quest herself. It told me she could not. Not until the right quest and camper came along. She was hoping now was the time." He rubbed his brow tiredly. "But, alas, it seems not to be."

Riker glanced out the window, which showed a good view of all twelve cabins, looking vaguely guilty. He bit his lip again and shook his head. "Ah well. Maybe next time."

"This is the first "next time" since Castellan's quest," Jesse mumbled. "And that was a few years ago. Chiron's never let us do quests since that one turned out so... um, badly."

Riker seemed to shrink in on himself a little, and Clarisse scowled, hitting Jesse on the shoulder. They stared at Riker with small frowns, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Well," Chiron cleared his throat. "What did the Oracle have to say?"

At the mention of the mention of the legacy of Apollo, Riker felt a shudder go through his form before he looked up and gulped. If he had one fear, it was corpses. He couldn't stand them. Well... not exactly corpses. He was fine with horror movies and the Walking Dead. But mummified corpses. Mummies. One scary movie too many when he was a small child and that was enough. And not to mention what the thing had said... or, the green smoke had said...

Riker took a breath. "Um," he cough, trying to smile. "It's—ah, it's a bit musty up there, ha..."

The teen sat back, realizing they were all staring at him, waiting for him to continue. "Um, okay. It said... I'll go west and face the god who has turned... I'll find what was stolen and see it returned...and," he frowned. "I'll be betrayed. By someone who I call a friend." Clarisse and Jesse suddenly looked very panicked, sharing a wide eyes look(looking at each other almost accusingly), then glanced back at Riker, who was staring at them. They looked hurt. Riker gave them a reassuring smile and shook his head, and they relaxed, slightly.

"Anything else?" Chiron prodded, and Riker sighed.

"Ah, yeah. It said I'll fail to save what matters most in the end. That last line makes me angry."

He studied Riker's face for a moment, before nodding. "I would assume so. But remember, Mr. Jackson, that the Oracle's words often have double meaning."

"Like a puzzle. It a riddle I've gotta figure out." Riker guessed. "It makes sense. It's not like the Fates to just give things away."

Chiron raised an eyebrow. "You would assume to know the Fates and their habits, young Mr. Jackson?"

"Not assuming," Riker smirked at him. "But, that's my secret. Maybe I'll tell you one day, Chiron."

The centaur chuckled, after a moment of silence. "You're quite the puzzle yourself, my boy. Very well. Maybe I'll riddle your out before you have the chance to tell me."

Riker grinned. "Challenge accepted."

Clarisse and Jesse looked warily from Chiron's Smirk to Riker's, and gulped.

"Now then," Chiron set the matter aside to get back to the topic, and the three demigods sat down at the table to listen; Riker took Grover's vacant seat, and briefly wondered where the satyr had gone, before focusing on Chiron's words. "Where will you go, first?"

Riker set his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm. "Zeus and Poseidon are fighting," he said. "Two of the Big Three. That leaves one left over. Lord Hades might have a grudge. Probably does, in fact. Who wouldn't? Am I right to assume he's not exactly happy with his piece of the world, when it was divided amongst our lovely Olympian three, like, forever ago?" Chiron raised his eyebrows, then nodded. Riker paused.

"Wow. Poseidon's old. And he did it with mom... to make me..." Riker's eyes widened. "Holy crap! Pedophilia! Do all the gods have it?!" Chiron and Jesse choked on air while Clarisse giggled.

Riker shook his head. "Um, anyway. Lord Hades must not like his brothers too much, for forcing him to isolate himself in the Underworld while they get to live it up under the sea or in 'heaven' and get to come to Olympus whenever they want. And you said they forced him into an oath to have no more children back after World War II... Which, if I'm not mistaken, is an oath that only he's kept, and they've both broken."

Jesse's eyes widened fractionally. "Oh... jeez... I kinda feel bad for him."

Riker nodded. "Slightly. Which is why I'm not immediately going to assume it was Hades who's behind the theft, like Chiron has—" The centaur looked down guiltily. "Just because Hades the brother in the basement non of the family likes to talk about doesn't mean he's instantly the bad guy. I can think of so many more stories about Poseidon and Zeus—and even the minor gods—being jackasses, excuse my French, than Lord Hades. Not to say that Lord Hades was never a jackass, but I'm not one to judge before I know a guy."

Chiron and Clarisse both raised an eyebrow, and Riker tilted his head. "which is why I'm only punching Poseidon in the face once, before giving him a chance to explain. Thus, if I don't like the explanation, He gets another."

They all paused, until, one by one, even Chiron slowly nodded consent.

"Continuing, however." Riker went on. "There are too many instances that connect to Lord Hades to ignore. The hellhound, for one. They can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, according to Annabeth, which are in the Underworld." Chiron looked curious, since he'd only ever heard Riker refer to the blond as "Annie-girl," but both Jesse and Clarisse nodded the teen on, realizing that he was in his "professor" mode.

"I don't claim to understand Lord Hades M.O, but, logically, we can't dismiss him from the possible list of suspects." Riker sat back and crossed his legs. "And, going on that topic, Poseidon himself can't be ignored either. There's as much possibility of him being the master of the thief, as well."

Chiron went to protest, but Riker cut him off. "I'm including everything here, in consideration. Both Poseidon and Hades have enough reason to fuel a desire to overthrow Zeus. Just because on of them is my father doesn't mean I'm going to let him off when he could, logically, be the one behind this. He didn't have to use me as the demigod thief, either. He could have chosen another. Then, moving on, I'll include Hephaestus, Hera, and... ah" he lowered his gaze. "Ares, unfortunately, in the list of possible suspects."

Clarisse and Jesse certainly didn't look happy, but they didn't say anything, so he went on.

"This is me saying that it didn't have to be on of the Big Three. There are twelve Olympians that were at that solstice meeting, and quite a large group of demigods, if I'm not wrong. You guys had a 'field trip,' Travis and Connor told me."

"You're acting a bit out of character here, Riker," Chiron observed, eyebrows raised. "Not to say you shouldn't be this smart, no, I meant the way you're speaking..."

"Hush," Riker held up a hand, and the amused centaur chuckled. "I'm in my detective persona right now."

"What's his name?" Jesse grinned.

"Rylocke Holmesson." Clarisse laughed, and Riker turned to look at her with wide eyes.

"Jeez, 'Reese! Write a book!"

The three campers laughed, and Chiron watched them with a smile before gently moving them back on track. "Anything else to add, Mr. Jackson?"

"Looking at the list of suspects, I've decided that the only way to figure this out is to go to the Underworld and ask Lord Hades a few questions."Jesse and Clarisse's laughter died out quickly, and they gulped, but Riker waved a hand. "C'mon, stop. We're not accusing him of anything, just asking a few innocent questions to find the real perpetrator of a crime. He shouldn't 'smite' us over that."

The raven-haired teen detective uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "So, to answer you're earlier question, Chiron: We'll be going to the Underworld, first-off. We will then follow any leads we get from there until we find out who's the thief, and hopefully we obtain this master bolt before the summer solstice rolls around."

"You look pretty dead-set on this," Clarisse blinked.

Riker smirked. "I'm a man on a mission."

Then the teen turned back to Chiron. "Of course, first we need to interview the dear activities director."

The other two turned to stare at the centaur, who suddenly went back to shuffling the cards on the table. He wasn't one to get nervous very often but these three capers looked serious.

Ω Δ Σ

My logic: Riker is not Percy. Riker believes in telling the truth when he knows it's serious shit going down. Luke's quest was dangerous enough that Luke's two quest members died, so he knows this is life-or-death. Plus, he knows that if he gives full information, he shall receive. That's why Riker didn't keep any of the Oracle's prophecy from Chiron.

And! I totally stole the CIA Mist-cover-story from somebody else. It's my favorite "what the Mist does" ever, but for the life of me I can't remember where I read it. If someone does, please tell me so I can credit the author. Thanks!

And I've decided that Riker, Jesse and Clarisse are detectives on a mission. Don't worry, this will come into play later one.

Please read and review!

~Skye X

PS: Oh, and to the Guest reviewer who said they'd declare war on Mexico if I didn't update? Please don't. Even if I despise Mexican food, I have many good Mexican friends who would be devastated. Here is your chapter. Please calm down.