Annabeth looked just like her mother.

A mortal would wonder what a librarian would be doing sitting in a reading chair at this hour. But despite the bookish glasses and modest outfit and the copy of "The Art of War" in her hand, Nico would recognize her anywhere. After all, he'd towed an enormous statue of her halfway across the world.

"Lady Athena," he said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

The library seemed lit with her presence, as if the books themselves were honored. But the ripples of cool air emanating from her form spoke of a less cheerful purpose.

Athena raised her eyebrows and closed her book. "This is a place of learning, and therefore my domain. I am more than within my rights to keep you from making a terrible mistake."

Nico wasn't sure whether to bow or be outraged.

He glanced back at the computer. "I don't understand."

"Allowing you to pursue your friend would pose a significant danger to yourself and others. It would be irresponsible of me to not intervene." The goddess's gray eyes bore holes into him.

Nico stood. "Significant danger? I don't see how a middle-aged woman with straight bangs poses a significant danger to anyone."

"You misunderstand."

"Of course I misunderstand. You're not telling me much of anything."

Athena pressed her lips together. "I'm not obliged to tell you. The plans of the Olympians are private matters."

His mind reeled. The Olympians are in on this? "Wait. You're just going to leave Leo with some maniac?"

"The risk outweighs the benefits."

"What risk?" Nico demanded. "He built an entire boat to transport your statue. That should make him an invaluable asset to you. What is scaring you so badly that you feel the need to leave him behind?"

This was the wrong response. Athena rose from her chair, revolted by the nasty thing she had just found on the bottom of her shoe that had the gall to tell her off.

"Enough talking. I have business to attend to. If there are any other details you should be informed of, Lord Dionysus will inform you of them."

Nico was reminded that Athena was no more a mortal than he had been a stalk of corn.

"Now go," she commanded, and everything went cold.

Cold.

Cold.

Next thing he knew, he was staring at Percy's ceiling and his ears were ringing.

"Nico? Nico, are you okay? Do you need a doctor?" Jason said softly. Percy was squeezing Nico's arms and gritting his teeth, like he was resisting the urge to shake him until he answered.

Nico groaned. "What happened?"

Percy's bed was disturbed and the lights were already on. Jason was the only one dressed. Percy was in his boxers, and apparently he was still sore from the water bottle because he was wearing the ice pack sling on his hips. Leo had laughed his ass off while making that.

"You just shadow traveled in here and passed out!" Percy said.

"That couldn't have been shadow travel!" Jason insisted. "He came in from the ceiling! That's pretty well lit!"

Nico tried to sit up, but immediately got dizzy and dropped back into Percy's arms. Percy and Jason began fussing. "I'm fine," Nico pleaded. "Just give me some space."

When the world stopped spinning and Nico could focus, he realized the sun was peeking in through the windows. It was dark when he left the library. How long had he been out? "Nico," Jason said hoarsely, and it was then that Nico noticed how puffy his eyes were. "What happened?"

Nico explained his little field trip, starting with shadow traveling to the library and finishing with "and then she slam dunked me into this cabin. By the way, what is Jason doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I'd like to know what you were doing breaking and entering!" Jason demanded.

"I'm not just going to sit on my ass while one of us is in trouble!" Nico cried.

Jason's anger became muddled with confusion. "What do you mean, trouble? Is it Leo?" He'd clearly been worried all day, to the point where he was walking into walls because he couldn't focus.

Nico mentally smacked himself. He was trying not to tell anyone about his suspicions, since Leo was so secretive about the topic, but he'd gone and screwed the pooch. "Jason…" he sighed. "This is something Leo would want to tell you in person. But your friend's with some seriously dangerous people. I can feel it."

Jason's jaw tightened. "Then why doesn't Athena want us knowing where he is?"

Nico looked back and forth at the two. Percy looked paler than usual. Jason's eyes were still shiny with tears.

"I don't know."

Leo was vomiting river water.

"…And finally, camp is now on soft lockdown," Mr. D said at the tail end of the morning announcements. "While you brats are still free to move around camp grounds, no one is getting in or out of the border without special permission."

The day after Leo was taken away, the mood had gone from desperate panic to grim resignation. Campers' attitudes cooled off as they undertook the work of finding themselves and their friends a couch to sleep on in case the worst happened.

The large red stain on the parrot print shirt Mr. D had been wearing since yesterday contributed to the tone.

Nico was sitting morosely at the Hades table. Will Solace had made it clear that even if they weren't dating anymore, they were still friends and he was always welcome at Apollo, but it wasn't the best spot to brood, so he stayed here.

Athena had told Mr. D something. Even he looked vaguely bothered where he would normally be indifferent. Not like Nico was going to ask. His boundaries with Mr. D were far more restricting than with other gods—not because Nico respected him any more, but because he had to put up with the guy on a daily basis. If he said something to piss him off, he'd get dish duty for the whole summer.

Percy and Annabeth were speaking at the edge of the dining pavilion. They frequently cast glances at Nico. Annabeth dashed towards him. "My mother contacted you?" she demanded.

"Good morning, and yes she did," Nico replied.

"Why?" she asked, and when Nico tried to respond she added, "well, not why, since Percy kind of told me why, but why that?"

"I don't know either. I was hoping you would have an idea."

Annabeth made a frustrated noise and half sat before rising again. "Am I allowed to sit here?"

"No. Go ahead."

She sat next to Nico and began speaking quietly. "So, recap. Leo is at some other summer camp, most likely with the abusive priest you described—if I'm reading into that discussion correctly—and my mother won't let you get him out of there."

"That's right," Nico whispered to Annabeth. Percy stared at her distantly, seemingly upset that he was being left out of the conversation. "Is there any reason you left Percy on the sidelines? Not that I'm complaining."

"I know Percy. He's going to rush in there if we don't keep him away from the situation. I don't know what to expect, but if it's bad enough that a god told us to stay out…" Annabeth trailed off.

Nico understood. His mind had run rampant all morning trying to figure out what Camp Gilead was. "I get it."

She sighed. "Maybe there's something more to this. What was her exact phrasing?"

"She said that letting me pursue Leo would 'be a threat to myself and others,'" Nico said, putting Athena's words in air quotes.

"And she said that you would be doing the pursuing? You in particular?"

"I—yeah, she did."

"So it could be argued that if someone else tried to get him, they might be okay?" Annabeth suggested with a hopeful twinkle in her eyes.

Nico reviewed the conversation. He couldn't remember anything that disagreed with her theory.

"…If and when I get arrested, I'm hiring you as my lawyer," he said.

Meanwhile, Leo was sitting at breakfast, casting jealous glances at his peers.

Meals at Camp Gilead were held in the cafeteria. Because it was a large building that could hold the entire population of the camp, this was concrete. Hardly any attempt was made to hide its artificial nature. The linoleum under Leo's feet was broken and chipped. The hard surface of the walls was painted in cheerful hues like beige, mauve, and fuck you.

Each table was circular, and had twelve fixed seats. Leo's table had three occupants. One was himself.

The one to his left was a kid he'd seen last time he was at Camp Gilead. Nancy had started camp just before he ran away and apparently she was still here. She was still a little shit.

The one to his right was a younger girl he had never seen before with wireless ear buds. Seemed odd that Abraham would allow that, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

All three of them wore a black badge. This meant they were all abstaining from food for "spiritual adjustment" reasons. No one wanted to sit with them because fasters were usually in a bad mood.

Leo managed to tear his eyes away from Ezra's mashed potatoes long enough to see Nancy's hand on his tool belt. "Don't touch that!" he snapped. He'd had the good sense to store that belt independently of his clothes, so Ezra hadn't confiscated it, and he was not about to lose it to some chick.

Scratch that. Most people he'd call "chicks" were very nice. Nancy was not a chick.

Nancy had a big greasy tangle of curls hanging down her back. Her eyes were sunken. Despite obvious heavy exposure to the sun, her freckles did not make her look healthy. In this particular light, they looked like liver spots.

Wait a second.

Chick magnet! Goddamn it, he should have said that when Chicken Man made it relevant.

Nancy blew a raspberry at him. "Finders keepers. I already took three screwdrivers out of that thing and you didn't even notice. Where do you get this stuff? Is there food in it?"

"If there were food in this I'd have eaten it," Leo said. "There wouldn't be any left for you anyway."

She scowled. "Figured you'd be full after what happened this morning. Looked like you swallowed half the New Jordan River."

"Well, surprise! I'm not, so can we quit talking about it?"

"You know what, if you're so hungry, why don't you run back to that Camp Half-Blood I heard so much about? Maybe they'll give you three hots and a cot."

Leo's face warmed. "Where did you hear about that?"

"Okay, maybe I ain't heard, but I seen it. On your dirty laundry. Only seen an orange t-shirt like that one other time. Are you crippled?" she said offhand.

"No! Why—"

"Could've sworn it was a camp for cripples," Nancy muttered.

The girl to Leo's right then spoke up. "Dang it, Nancy, I don't even know what you're saying and I still hate it!" she said in a slurring accent Leo had trouble discerning. "It's like you're grumbling at him in another language!"

"Then turn your hearing aids on!" Nancy said, leaning to where the girl could see her face.

"So I can hear you whine at that poor boy?" She shook her head and stormed off to a different table. In the distance, she took out a purple ball of yarn and knitting needles. Ever seen a tiny girl angrily knit a glove? If not, you don't know what you're missing.

Leo was almost in a good mood after breakfast and during morning activities. He was helping Ezra manage a reenactment of the story of Joseph for most of it, and in spite of Ezra he was having a good time polishing up the set. It wasn't the most technical thing he could be doing. But it was comforting.

Leo peeled grapes for an Egyptian jar labeled "corpse eyes" as Ezra pulled the curtains closed. Every building in camp had wide windows facing the center of the property where the tower was. Even the curtains wouldn't close all the way, leaving a silver of wooden wall visible.

Ezra rushed him backstage. The only person that needed to be on set was the guy playing Joseph. "Just wait back here. Maybe take a nap. I won't tell," Ezra said.

Oh, Ezra. Not evil enough to enforce the law. Not good enough to challenge it. And so it went.

Ezra went somewhere else while Leo went to the back room.

Camp Gilead was full of mysterious unmarked doors that were either locked or led to rooms with no apparent purpose. It seemed that each building had at least one.

Leo didn't care why the doors were there. Every time he saw one, he tried to open it, because sometimes there was something useful behind it. He knew what was behind this door. There was a bare bulb and a worn couch.

He threw himself onto the peeling surface of the couch and sighed. The stress and hunger was burning him out.

The patterns in the yellow wallpaper swam as he drifted off, looking at his exposed wrist, wondering what Nico had done with his bracelets.

Some camper saw Nico washing blood into the sink and left the bathroom as fast as they'd entered, a new rumor on their heels.

The unmarked door banged the wall, and Leo bolted awake.

Teresa was standing in the doorway with a wooden ruler in her hand. She had aged poorly over the last six years. Her hair had a stripe of white in it and the wrinkles in her forehead were more pronounced. Typically a middle-aged woman of her caliber would be subject to ridicule by Wal-Mart cashiers, much less a brigade of troubled children. Leo jumped to his feet.

"Figures I'd find you lazing around back here," she snarled. "Everyone else is cleaning up and you're asleep."

Leo clenched his jaw to stop it from quivering. "I lost track of time."

Teresa sniffed. That wasn't good enough.

Leo had spent his whole life training himself to handle precise and delicate actions. After sixteen years of existence, he still didn't have abs, which was disappointing. But his hands were steady as a rock and he was proud of that. He could do work so fine he needed a magnifying glass and could thread a needle almost as fast as an Athena kid.

That being said, Leo was terrified that Teresa might hit his hands so hard they would break.

Teresa finally got tired of hearing him whimper and left him to his own devices. At this point, he rushed off to the bathroom with his head bowed.

Leo's wounds were throbbing. His hands were bruised bloody, and the existing cut on his palm had reopened and gushed blood beneath the bandage. He ran water over his hands. It was bitingly cold and relieved the pain.

The water soaked the bandage, which was uncomfortable, but Leo didn't want to see the damage.

He tried to make a fist with his cut hand. He could barely flex his palm without agitating it. He could wiggle all his fingers, which was a relief, but he could barely curl them enough to hold a pencil.

He didn't want to unwrap the bandage, but a worrying amount of blood was dripping from it. He did so gently. His empty stomach lurched.

In the interest of good taste, let's just say the wound under Leo's dirty three day old bandage didn't look great.

Leo was still staring at his hand when Chicken Man walked in the bathroom.

He acted like he'd been looking for Leo for a while. Chicken Man beckoned him towards the door impatiently.

Leo held up his wounded hand helplessly.

Chicken Man huffed, irritated but apparently not surprised. He ran Leo's hand quickly under the faucet and slapped something from his own pocket onto the cleaned wound.

Leo raised his eyebrows. "Hello Kitty?" he asked, pointing at the new, very pink bandage.

Chicken Man only glared before whisking him out of the building.

Leo was led to a building at the back of the campground. It was a chapel, an old one with stained glass and a steeple and all the fixings. This was at the back of the camp and the trees largely hid it. Despite being innocuous, it was the building this camp was built around.

Near this church, there was a chicken coop. Chicken Man waved at the chickens as he walked by.

Leo was slid between the oak doors as Chicken Man stayed outside. Abraham was in the front pew, facing the stained glass window opposite the doors.

Leo tried to pull Chicken Man in through the doors, but he resisted.

Leo silently asked why.

Chicken Man shook his head. He pointed at Leo and at the chapel hall. He made an "ok" sign.

Leo mouthed, "he'll hurt me."

Chicken Man shook his head and made the ok sign again before leaving.

Leo was alone with Abraham.

He tentatively stepped inside. The carpet muffled his footsteps. The house lights were off; only sunlight streamed through the windows, dyed by the colored glass and bathing the sanctuary in soft light.

Abraham did not turn to face Leo. This made Leo even more anxious. Abraham had a special place for exorcism and this wasn't it. Actually, Abraham didn't use the chapel at all. He ran a whole church in Manhattan. What would be the point?

Leo slowly approached the pew. Abraham was reading a newspaper. "LION MYSTERIOUSLY APPEARS IN POLICE STATION, MAULS 5," the headline claimed. Abraham did not look up until Leo cleared his throat.

Abraham looked up. "Leo," he said, putting the paper away. "Good to have you back. I hope you'll forgive me for the incident this morning. I got so caught up in the excitement I almost forgot to let you back up."

Abraham laughed. Leo didn't.

"Well. In any case, it was a relief to see you again. We need more good brains in this place. Ezra's a sweet kid, but bless his heart, he fell out of his mother's birth canal head first." He sighed.

Leo was still silent.

Abraham stopped laughing. "…Don't tell me you're still possessed."

"I'm not possessed. I was never possessed," Leo said.

"What else do you call screaming in a foreign language while lighting things on fire, son?"

Leo paused to think of a convincingly jokey answer. "Chemistry class?" he said feebly.

Abraham laughed again, but it was just a breath of recirculated air. "Leo, Leo. You were such a nice kid in the beginning. What happened there?"

Leo clenched his still functioning fist. He'd been a child reeling from the death of his mother when he first came here. He bought blindly into the idea that God would help guide him through this terrible world. He got hooked onto the bait like so many other fish.

But Leo wasn't a fish, and he wasn't a child, and Abraham did not deserve to be a father.

"I saw through your bullshit," he said calmly.

Abraham frowned. "You're leaving me no option but to continue your treatment. I'd hoped you would find God's light on your own, but that clearly hasn't happened."

"Sure hasn't."

"Don't interrupt me!" Abraham barked, red with rage.

Even though Abraham was seated lower than him, Leo felt very small.

Abraham seemed to count to ten. "…How about we just pray about it? Get this thing off on the right foot."

Leo relaxed a little. This was not the most distressing outcome that could've happened.

Abraham placed his hands on Leo's shoulders and bowed his head. Leo followed suit. "Heavenly father, please guide Leo on his path to atonement. He knows not what he says." Leo did not close his eyes. Abraham did.

Leo stared at the carpet until the prayer ended and Abraham let him leave.

When Leo walked back, it was after lunch and Chicken Man was lying face down in the grass.

Leo approached cautiously and with a big stick. If he wasn't okay, Leo did not want to touch his corpse barehanded. He had his limbs splayed out in such a way.

Luckily Chicken Man was not dead, and was very angry that Leo chose to wake him by hitting him in the stomach with a tree branch. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry!" Leo shouted as Chicken Man chased him away.

Leo managed to run into Nancy again in the reception building. They were shredding old documents, a task that required minimal surveillance and thus attracted unsavory conversation.

"So I been thinking," Nancy said, a greasy stand of hair in her mouth. "And I think you and I should look over each other's stashes."

"Our stashes?" This was happening in the back of the building. Leo could see the front desk from here. He was tempted to burn the paper instead of fumbling with his bruised fingers, but he wasn't sure what Nancy would see if he did. The Mist was always iffy with his powers. Sometimes mortals would see no fire at all, or maybe they'd see fire with no apparent source.

"Yeah, the contraband we both have. I grab all my shit off other people. I don't know where you get yours, but if you got any more screwdrivers I'll turn a blind eye."

"Why do you need screwdrivers?"

"What else can I give the good women of Camp Gilly? I can't just carve a dick in wood shop."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I got porn, cigarettes, Harry Potter books," Nancy said, counting on her fingers. "Y'know, all the good stuff the church doesn't want you to have. I owe you some merch. So what'll it be?"

"Annabeth."

"What?"

Leo leaned to look out the door.

Annabeth was standing at the reception desk of Camp Gilead, wearing heavy makeup, but still definitely herself. She was ringing (for a certain value of "ring") the call bell.

Ezra came in from a separate room to answer. "Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Ann," Annabeth said in her best airheaded voice. "How do I go about applying for a job here?"