A/N: My deepest apologies to all who have been awaiting my update. Fortuantely, I have a good excuse. My dad fell off his motorcycle and broke some ribs and my mom just had surgery, so neither of them could drive me to the library. I couldn't even ride my bike there because my right foot is in a boot-thingie because I have a stress fracture in my right heel, which really, really bites because I can't run at all, I constantly step on my own foot, I have major problems with stairs, and I limp around like a pirate with a pegleg (step, clump, step, clump). My family now calls me "Hop-a-long". Even my little brother is injured - he just started football and is learning how to tackle and be tackled. He came home looking like a punching bag.

Once more, my thanks to Emerald Swordsman and arandomreviewer for giving me such great feedback! You guys rock!

arandomreviewer – I didn't answer your question about Thalia's aging because, well, I haven't quite decided yet. It's possible for her to be immortal because Lehran was practically immortal, but I just don't know. I think I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Also, I'm sorry you don't like the idea of armor, but I never really liked the Curse of Achilles to begin with. In the context of the Last Olympian it was okay, but personally, I hate it when authors try to make their characters invincible. A character should always have room to grow, and their skills and success should come from constant hard work. If I could get away with it, I'd just ignore the Curse altogether, but since I'm trying so hard to stick to "reality" I figured I'd better include it. The armor is my compromise.

Wait… Did you say… potato flavored ice cream?

Emerald Swordsman – Thank you! I really appreciate your support of my story (and I hate it when you rely too much on tanks too – although I do love Titania in RD). Having Annabeth fight for Daein against Percy seems a bit too predictable – she would just be like Ilyanna (randomly joining Crimeans in the middle of battle…). That doesn't mean they won't end up on opposite sides at some point (evil grin) or that one of the four won't be fighting for Daein… It just won't happen like that. I'm sorry if you thought Lucia was out of character, but she is fourteen, and still being restricted by her father. She has five more years to grow into the calm, clever woman we all know and love.

Chapter 6

-Thalia

The night after I found the dragon tracks – the second night we had spent in our mountain shelter – I barely slept at all. The tracks had been less than a day old when I'd found them, which meant we'd missed the dragon by a few hours, if that, when we found this shelter. I doubted the dragon would come back, but it never hurt to be cautious.

At least, I was assuming it was a dragon. The tracks it left indicated four clawed, reptilian paws, a long spiked tail, and wings. The prints were deep, meaning that it weighed a great deal. It had longer legs than the dragons I was used to – the steps were further apart than most dragon tracks – but the overall body length from tail marks to front paw prints was much shorter. If it was a dragon, it was a western-style one, like the kind you see in medieval stories with the knight in shining armor and the helpless princess. I scowled. I hate that kind of story – the princesses are always so pathetic. They and their unrealistically noble and handsome rescuers are an anathema to everything that I, as a Hunter of Artemis, stood for.

And they're just stupid.

Looking critically at the rabbits I had managed to kill earlier that morning, I decided to put them on a spit over the fire. Skinning would be a bit messy, especially since we didn't even have a plate to put the meat on. The fire I had built guttered slightly and I shivered as an unnatural chill swept over the clearing, emanating from Nico and that creepy black sword of his. I glared at him, but his eyes were closed tight in concentration. After a moment, he sighed heavily and opened his eyes. The temperature quickly returned to normal, and my fire danced giddily in its pit.

I looked at Nico and lifted an eyebrow as he slumped tiredly by the fire.

"I tried to see what happened to Percy and Annabeth," he said by way of explanation. "I don't think they're dead, but it's hard to be sure. Things work differently here."

I started to ask what he meant, then figured I probably didn't want to know.

-Lucia

I woke at dawn, as usual. Before donning my day clothes, I put on a pair of boy's breeches and a simply woven shirt and did a series of stretches and exercises that Geoffrey had shown me a year ago, when he'd started page training. If Father wouldn't train me, I'd train myself, even if he was sure to have me punished should he ever find out. Dunking my head in a pail of water I'd drawn last night, I washed the sweat from my face and put my boy clothes back in their hiding spot. Carefully, I slipped into an embroidered pale blue and lavender dress, pinning my hair up so I could do the laces. I had long ago forbidden any maidservants to help me dress – partially in an effort to keep my exercises a secret, but mostly because I simply hated being waited on.

The dress was Elincia's work, a beautiful thing with tight sleeves just past my elbows so I could move my arms, and a wide, airy skirt that was just a fingerbreadth higher than normal so that I could walk quickly, even run. It was my favorite dress, and I wore it today because today felt like a special occasion. Something unusual, something exciting, had happened, and for once I could be a part of it too.

I reached Elincia's door just as she was striding out, looking absolutely stunning in her orange and gold dress. We nearly collided but managed to catch ourselves in time, laughing as we recovered our footing. Elincia apparently felt the same way I did, because she also wore one of her favorite dresses. For some reason I never understood, Elincia loved the color orange. Frankly, I hated it. It was one of those obnoxious colors that stood out no matter where you went, and I loathed being the center of attention. Elincia, of course, managed to make it look beautiful.

We made quite the pair, the twelve-year old, emerald-haired beauty in a gown that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else and the tall gangly girl who hid her face with a lock of blue hair in a pale gown that matched the quiet shade of her eyes and hair. Geoffrey met us at the foot of the stairs, blinking in confusion when he saw that we were both dressed in our best.

Boys. They never understand the significance of a woman's clothing.

He bowed as Father did when greeting the royal ladies who occasionally visited Delbray (I had always suspected that they were the court vultures looking to take my late mother's place, and the three of us always did our humble best to rid our castle of them. None stayed for long.). "Good morning, my ladies. You both look lovely," he said politely, acting the perfect gentleman, though not a week ago he had tripped me into a puddle of mud in the courtyard, and I doubted he would hesitate to do so again, given the chance. As it happened, I was still planning my revenge for that little trick. Perhaps a bucketful of mud could find its way into his closet, or his bed?

He offered an arm to each of us, and I took one, wincing as I realized he was now only an inch shorter than I was, though he was two years younger. He'll outgrow me soon, I realized as the three of us made straight for the infirmary to learn what we could of our interesting new guest. How depressing.

To our surprise, our visitor was already up on his feet, examining his surroundings with clear, sea-green eyes. Though he must have heard us walking down the hall towards the door, he seemed shocked at our appearance. Perhaps he simply wasn't expecting nobility?

The silence quickly became awkward. Our guest didn't seem to know what to make of us, nor we of him. After looking each of us over carefully, his eyes seemed to settle on me. His eyes were… riveting. There was humor there, but also the aged look I associated with soldiers who had seen their friends die in pools of blood and then turned around and gutted the enemy who had killed them. Asleep, he had appeared a boy, not quite across the threshold of adulthood. Now, awake and alert, those eyes made him a man. For once in my life, I was speechless.

It was Elincia who broke the silence. "Hello. My name is Elincia. Who are you?" The sense of relief was palpable. Finally given something to say, the man spoke.

"Uh… Percy. Percy Jackson. Oh, and hello. Er, good morning?" Percy's air of mystique was promptly shattered. Clearly, he had no idea what to say to a lady as beautiful as Elincia – or perhaps he had never met a member of the nobility, as the three of us clearly were. He had a strange accent I didn't recognize, and though it was faint enough to pass for Crimean, it certainly wasn't noble.

"Good morning! I'm Lucia," I said, before silence could settle in once more. "Welcome to Castle Delbray." Too formal? Maybe, but I wasn't sure what else to say.

"Um, thanks." He seemed to hesitate, half-opening his mouth to ask something before snapping it shut to rethink what he might say.

"And I'm Geoffrey." Then, guessing what Percy might be about to ask, he continued. "Delbray is a day's ride from where we found you, which was in a river. What happened, by the way?"

Percy's face darkened with anger, concern, and perhaps a hint of chagrin. "My – my friend and I were looking for a town to get some supplies, and we were attacked. I guess they were some kind of criminal." He grimaced in self-disgust. "And I let one of the –"he looked at Elincia and changed what he was going to say –"idiots get under my guard. Stupid mistake." Then concern overtook his features. "Was I the only one you found?"

Geoffrey nodded, but hastened to reassure him. "My father, Count Roger, is still out there, looking for the bandits that attacked you."

I sat down on the edge of a bed. I'd stayed up far too late last night, and I was paying for it now. "Is your friend a swordsman, like you?"

He glanced at me. "Well, no. She uses daggers, mostly. Her name is Annabeth."

Annabeth? A girl? For some reason, I didn't like the sound of that. "You were traveling together?"

He didn't seem to catch the insinuation in the question, though Elincia did. She raised an eyebrow at me. "No. I mean, it wasn't just the two of us. There was Thalia and Nico too. Thalia uses a spear, and a bow. Nico has a shortsword. They were back at our camp when Annabeth and I were attacked."

Well, that was a little better. Not much.

"Where were you going?" Elincia asked, perching on the bed beside me. Geoffrey pulled up a chair, but Percy stayed standing. He seemed restless.

He shrugged. "Nowhere, really. We were just trying to get out of the house, and then we got kind of lost."

I could understand that. If I could, I'd be "out of the house" in a moment. Elincia seemed satisfied with his answers, and nodded. Geoffrey still looked curious.

"You don't sound like you're from Crimea."

"I'm not. We, the four of us, are from Manhattan." He half-smiled, as if remembering some old joke. "It's this little island, a mile or so off the coast. It's pretty hard to find, and no one from the mainland's set foot there in a long, long time. They – the people there – like their privacy. But it was small, you know?"

He was hiding something. That much was obvious. But that was fine; we all had our secrets.

-Percy

I just could not get over their hair. I didn't dare say anything – it was a video game (world, dimension, whatever), so bright blue hair might be normal, but still! It was so weird!

It was even weirder considering that besides the hair and their clothes, they definitely could have passed for normal kids. I've seen some pretty strange things in my life, but this was something else altogether. I don't care how many mythological Greek monsters try to kill you, hair the color of Astroturf still looks bizarre.

And these three kids, especially the two girls, were decked out like medieval royalty. I was used to old-fashioned Greek stuff, but this was a completely different style. Greeks preferred a toga-like garment called a chiton. It was just a square of cloth pinned to look like a robe or a tunic. If they wanted to show off their wealth, they'd wear elaborate jewelry and perfume their hair. This was way more Renaissance.

The younger girl, Elincia, wore an eye-smarting shade of orange that somehow worked for her with a few pieces of pure gold jewelry (thanks to the Aphrodite cabin, I knew perfectly well how to tell the difference between fake jewelry and "the real deal". It was a very long, very painful process, but eventually my knowledge satisfied Drew, the new head councilor of that cabin. She was pretty and convincing, but a total dictator.). Her green hair was down with a simple pin holding a few strands out of her face. Geoffrey, who looked about her age, wore a storm-gray shirt with dark leather breeches that were the same style as my own, but much higher quality. The older girl, who was maybe fourteen or fifteen, wore a gown that matched her hair perfectly, though the sleeves and skirt were shorter than Elincia's. Lucia wore almost no jewelry except for a gold chain with a blue stone around her neck. Her hair was pinned up in the back, but cut so that her bangs completely concealed her left eye.

Their speech was kind of weird. They were kind of formal, though I definitely appreciated the bluntness – when you hang out with gods and centaurs and Oracles, you really start to hate people who beat around the bush. Their accent was almost British, but not. Geoffrey and Elincia seemed to accept my little story about "Manhattan", but I was pretty sure Lucia wasn't buying it. But she wasn't saying anything, so I figured I got away with it, at least for now. And once I found out a bit more about this place, I could come up with something better. I hoped.

And I was worried about Annabeth. I mean, I know she can take care of herself. I'd had that lesson beaten into me more times than I liked to admit. But I'd dreamed… something. It was hard to remember, but I was positive she was in trouble. I was also positive I could do nothing about it – as much as I absolutely hated it.