A/N: Remember, Pheobe's alive. Why? 'Cause I want her to be. Oh, and sorry this chapter's so late.

Chapter 8- The Guardian and the Games

Time Skip: 15 Days (51 since Percy joined camp)

Percy's POV

"Not yet" I shook my head as Miranda and I sat down in the two adirondack chairs. Or rather, the graceful blonde sat while I kind of fell. "The mob's gonna form again, and soon. I can feel it."

"I can as well." Miranda shook her head, her dark blond hair flowing with the movement, "Iron discipline breaks rather than cracks. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it has not already happened."

"It's going to break soon." I finished, "We need to be ready to disperse them."

"The Hunters know what they need to do if that arrangement of campers gathers again." Miranda pointed out, "They will be safe in the forest."

I snorted, "Almost two-hundred campers trying to find eight Hunters in a forest. I can guarantee the campers, inept as they are at tracking, will find at least one of them."

"And you cannot shadow-travel them back-"

"Because to them, I don't have Shadow anymore." I sighed, "Somehow, I don't think revenge'll solve our problems this time."

Slowly, a malicious smile creep onto Miranda's face, "Why not? I still have the blows from the last beating. . . . ."

Uh-oh. "So I can handle Heracles while you're on crowd-control?"

"Precisely."

I nodded "Let's hope it-"

Before I finished my thought, I was rudely interrupted by a scream. Aria's scream, to be precise. I glanced at Miranda, who nodded, and we both raced off to find the source of the disturbance.

The eight Hunters were backed up against the lava wall, with maybe half the camp facing them. Heracles was smiling vindictively in the background, and judging by the fact that most of the campers were holding rocks, this beating was going to be a lot more severe. One such rock had already been thrown, which resulted in the scream we heard earlier.

"Stop!" I shouted, but nothing happened. A few of them looked at the two of us and turned pale, but continued what they were doing. A volley of rock sailed at the Hunters, but I summoned a wall of shadow that deflected them, then summoned the blade itself. This'll take some explaining to Artemis. Miranda, for her part, turned to the crowd of demigods.

"Heracles, you can still walk away." I warned the arrogant god, who now had his club in his hands.

"From a puny demigod like you? Ha!"

I sighed, "So mote it be."

I charged him while there was a grunt, simultaneously, from all the demigods there. So, Miranda, getting to work? Heracles' club sailed down at me, but I rolled to the side and slashed with Shadow. Heracles just laughed, "Is that the best you can do? I am the strongest demigod in history!"

"I don't doubt that, Hercules." I replied, then started playing with the shadows. At first, a few tendrils of darkness flew at him, but the god smashed them while I prepared my next attack. A volley of black arrows appeared as I lunged forward, but a swipe from Heracles destroyed them, and all I managed to do was cut him high in the arm. I need a new strategy here.

Heracles swung down with his club again, and this time, I summoned a thick bar of shadows to stop it. No such luck, as the club plowed through them and threw me back.

Groaning, I picked myself up and, in doing so, grabbed a handful of sand, "Hey, tough guy, I'm not dead yet."

Heracles, who had rounded on Miranda, turned to face me again. Miranda was doing her part well, as I could see the crowd of demigods getting battered by invisible fists, boot, and -if my guesses were correct- rocks. Already, most of the crowd were sporting bruises, cuts, and broken bones in the same places the Hunters used to.

Heracles growled as he approached, "I'll deal with your bitch and set those Hunters straight after I tear you apart."

"Yeah, good luck with that." I goaded, "Just like you killed your entire family."

"That was Hera! She did it!"

"Yeah, sure, blame the gods." I mocked. Heracles, enraged now, charged at me like a Minotaur. I rolled to the side again, but Heracles was much, much faster than the Minotaur and grabbed me before slamming me into the ground again.

"Looks like your bitch isn't here to back you up again!" Heracles gloated, grabbing me by the throat and lifting me up.

Blackness edged around my vision, but I managed to get a few words out, "Look me in the eye and say that."

"As you wish, runt." Heracles lifted me up even further, glaring at me.

I smirked back, "Big mistake, beef head."

My left hand came up, grinding the sand into Heracles' eyes. Howling in pain, the god stumbled backwards, releasing me.

"What's going on here?!" It was a new voice, one I didn't recognize. A man in a black, hooded leather jacket was standing a few meters from me. There was a sword sheath on either side of his body, along with throwing knives lining a leather belt that held up black jeans.

"I don't know who you are," I began, "but I'd suggest either you leave, or you watch and let Miranda and I take care of business here."

"What, so you can just keep torturing the Hunters?"

I froze before speaking again, "I, along with Miranda, am doing my best to protect the Hunters. Since this Guardian appears to enjoy watching this happen, I saw it fit to remove him."

All of the person's features were in shadow, but I could clearly see a pair of glowing, golden eyes, then he lunged at me, drawing a blade that was the exact opposite of Shadow. Light. Ross?

I parried his thrust before slamming an overhead chop down, all thought of who he was vanished in the face of this threat. A whip of shadows cracked at him, but a sword of white something-rather cut through it. That's defiantly Light, but when did he become so skilled with it?

A slash nicked me in the arm, but the stranger was bleeding from a cut I scored on his thigh, "While we fight-"

He punched, cutting me off as I dodged away, then I continued, "The Hunters might-"

As soon as I mentioned the Hunters, the stranger forgot all about me, spinning to see that now, most of the campers were lying on the ground, groaning. The Hunters' eyes were sliding between three people: Miranda, the stranger, and me. They looked at Miranda with fear and respect, at me with joy and respect, and at the stranger with absolute horror and regret.

"Thalia, do you know this person?" I called out, taking the opportunity to strike while the man's back was turned. The tip of my sword was at his back, ready to thrust if need be.

Thalia nodded, the regret, horror, and sorrow never leaving her face, "I know him."

That's good enough for me. I don't think this guy, whoever he is, would harm the Hunters. "If I take my sword away from your back, do you promise not to hurt the Hunters or Miranda?"

"I give you my solemn word." Something in his voice sounded familiar, but for the life of my, I couldn't remember what. I already know it's Declan Ross, so wouldn't it be his voice? Well, yeah, but how do we know it is Declan? All this guy has is Light. He could've killed Ross and taken it for all I know.

"Thalia, will he hurt you?" I called, needing to be completely sure. The Judges'll kill me if more Hunters die.

Thalia shook her head hesitantly, so I took Shadow away from his back and made it disappear before standing at Miranda's side. The man approached the Hunters, who were standing as still as statues. Some words were exchanged that I couldn't make out, then the man led them into the forest.

"So, that worked." I said, surveying the eighty-or-so still bodies of the campers.

"Yes, it did." Miranda deadpanned, then we both burst out laughing.

Once the laughter had died down and the campers started getting up, I spoke again, "What'd you do to them?"

"A few broken bones from the last mob beating, along with a plethora of assorted cuts and bruises." Miranda shrugged, "All the same, I'm exhausted."

"So am I. You know that guy in leather? He had Light, and he's good with it. When I had Shadow, we were pretty evenly matched."

Miranda's eyes snapped to my face, "Declan?"

I shrugged, "No idea. Jumping to conclusions now wouldn't be good for the future."

Miranda narrowed her eyes, "True, but Declan is still a possibility."

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, "You saw the way the Hunters looked at him."

"Fear. Regret. Sorrow."

"But not disrespect or contempt. They didn't see him as a lower form of life." So what did he do to earn that?

"The empousa and Aria weren't afraid of him, though. I could see comfort there. Love. Respect." Miranda turned, walking again.

"He has some power with the Hunt, and he has Light." I stated, "That kind of group could start a very dangerous guerrilla war, especially if Artemis joins them."

"They are skilled, but they are few and closely knit."

"Who?" I asked. We both knew what I was asking: Which Hunter, if killed, would have the greatest effect on morale.

"Aria." Miranda replied thoughtfully. Killing her would hurt the stranger more than any others, most likely.

"All the same, this should be a last resort. Killing her won't endear the Romans to me, when the time comes."

"The Romans? They would not care about a Hunter." Miranda looked puzzled, obviously not having seen what I did.

"The Legion tattoo. Three years and a daughter of Mercury, I'm surprised you didn't notice." The Legion's marks couldn't be removed unless the owner of those marks died -which I did. Death makes all things void, including oaths on the Styx. "And I need to have a chat with the empousa, Elysia."

Time Skip: 29 Days (80 since Percy joined Camp)

Percy's POV

I leaned over and whispered a question into Miranda's ear, "What did you say this was again?"

Miranda sighed, "The Greco-Roman Games. Every year since Gaea was defeated, a bunch of Romans come here and we all have a friendly competition. Pegasus stunts, sword-fighting, javelin and discus throwing, foot-races. But -more importantly- a few of the wealthier families and Senators come as well."

Ever since the Hunt left, my reputation had grown throughout the camp. Now, they all feared me only a little less then the graceful dark blonde next to me. Now we were sitting in the Ampitheater while a bunch of Romans filed in next to the Greeks. The Olympians, twelve of them -including Hades, but Artemis was absent- were sitting around the fire. A few older statesmen were sitting in a covered area to the side, looking on with some interest.

Miranda pointed at one in particular, who wore a spotless white toga with a purple sash over it. The sash signified imperium, or the authority to command the forces of Rome. "That is Marcus Macintyre, one of the current consuls. Next to him is Lucas Carmen, one of the censors. Those are the only two players of note here today."

A hush settled on the crowd as Jason lead Piper to a seat. A few days after the Giant War ended, Piper decided she wanted to see New Rome without everything exploding, then decided to stay. Reyna brought up the rear, Frank probably stayed back at New Rome to oversee the rest of Legion. She sat on the other side of Jason, then Zeus cleared his throat.

"Two and a half years ago, an end was brought to a war that could've spelled the end for Westren Civilization." Zeus' voice boomed, "It was a war won by the bravery of the gods and their children, bringing down the most dangerous enemy in history: Gaea. Ever since then, we have, once during summer and once during winter, we celebrate peace between the Greeks and Romans. Without their decision to ally during the final battle, the victory of the gods would have no doubt be more difficult."

Sure, don't mention us seven, would you? Do your best to take all the credit, why don't you? Zeus' speech was interrupted by the doors to the Amphitheater bursting open and eleven figures -clothed in silver- strode in.

"Artemis. I did not expect for you to come." With a wave of his hand, Zeus summoned a comfy silver chair at one end of the U shape around the crackling fire. The Hunters sat as far as they could away from the other demigods, and this time, Pheobe was among them, along with another new face. This one had brown hair and brown eyes, with somewhat low cheekbones and a small nose.

"What, and miss a chance to put all these males back in their place? Please, father, how could I resist?" Artemis sat down, putting her hands behind her head.

"Where is the Guardian?" Zeus, now as Jupiter, asked. His words gave birth to hushed conversations among the crowd, with only Miranda, the Hunters and I remaining silent. Even Nico di Angelo, sitting in the front next to Will Solace, was talking.

"He'll be along." Artemis smiled in satisfaction as she surveyed the scene in front of her.

"Very well. As I was saying, the Greeks and Romans are united more than ever before, so we hold these Games-"

Jupiter was cut off as a blinding flash of light lit up the Ampitheater, then the doors broke off their hinges as an armored demigod was thrown backwards, landing in the fire. The same man in leather strode through, heading straight for the stage where the Olympians were. Weapons were drawn by the Greeks in the audience, but the Hunter drew and nocked arrows, taking aim. Miranda and I calmly watched this all, and I was waiting to create a shield of shadows between Miranda, myself and any arrows that might start flying.

Aphrodite was almost drooling over the man, who stood calmly behind Artemis' chair with his arms crossed and his hood shrouding his face in shadow. Artemis was smirking at the Greeks in the audience, as if daring them to challenge her "Guardian". But everyone either knew they didn't have a chance, or like Miranda and I, knew that challenging him would be pointless.

"Ah, the Guardian has arrived."

"Yes, I have, Jupiter." The golden eyes shown from under the hood, "Now, I believe you were talking about some games?"

Oh, you're smarter than you look. Jupiter'll look weak now, appearing to follow your suggestion when it was his intention all along. I'll have to do something about that. . .

Jupiter cleared his throat, "Moving on, there will be five days of competition hosted here at Camp Half-Blood. None of you are required to participate."

Hmm, I could enter a few of the competitions, show myself to the big wigs in the Senate. It'll certainly help. I caught Zoe's eye as we all stood, and jerked my head at the entrance. She nodded, knowing to stay there until I came.

Miranda and I were near the center of the pack, the crowd -consciously or unconsciously- keeping a little space between us and them. I took Zoe by the arm as we passed, cutting through the crowd and leaving Miranda behind.

"Anything new in Hebe?" I questioned once we were out of site and earshot, hopefully, "Sorry, I haven't gotten a good chance to ask in the last few days."

Zoe shook her head, "There is no change worth reporting to thee, else thou would have heard from me."

"You're probably right, but I need to go to the Judges, tell them about that golden-eyed swordsman in leather." I said. Zoe nodded, taking my hand as I shadow-traveled to the rear of the Judging Pavilion.

"Proctor. There have been developments?" Minos demanded.

"There is a man with golden eyes who wields Light with great skill. Enough to match me in a straight fight, although the match was short and I did not have time to get a feel for his style. He arrived in Camp Half-Blood with the apparent backing of the Hunt and it's mistress." I reported, "I ask whether I should kill him."

"Why haven't you already? Light is a powerful blade, and it's sheath makes the opponent even more dangerous." Minos growled.

"I have the sheath, but I am unsure as to why I should kill him."

"You must kill any who stand in your way. Your mission is imperative, and no soul ranks above it." Minos ground out, "Thirty lashes for you, and ten for Zoe."

My eyes widened, but I kept silent, taking Zoe's hand and squeezing it lightly. This wasn't the first time she'd be whipped, but it would only be the second. In the past, though, she had to watch me be whipped.

The thin man strapped us both to the pole, leaving me bare-chested and Zoe in a bra. The whip cracked across my back, the first sample of the pain to come rioting around my body. I didn't even wince, and instead spoke loudly, "One."

"No, Proctor, you will count your friend's lashes, and she will count yours." I could hear the vindictiveness in Minos' voice.

Zoe spoke as the whip came down again, "Two."

"Three."

The thin man turned to Zoe, and the whip cracked across the pale, flawless skin of her back. She gasped, her eyes becoming wet, but not crying as I said the first of ten numbers, "One."

Three lashes for me, one for her. Just seeing her get whipped once hurt more all the lashes so far combined, but I knew what the Judges were doing. Testing me. Or breaking me. Whichever result, I don't think the Judges would care.

"Thirty." Zoe sighed, tears running down her cheek, knowing it was over for me, and the thin man turned for the last time.

As the whip descended, I could count all nine lines of pain and suffering sketched across her back. When the whip finally made the last long welt, Zoe letting out a small scream of pain, "Ten. It's over, Zoe."

The thin man released us and gave us back our shirts, then I shadow-traveled us to her room. Once there, and out of sight of the Judges, Zoe began crying in earnest, tears now running freely. "I-I c-can-not d-d-do this. W-watching t-thee. . . ."

"I can't do anything else, Zoe." I sighed, my shoulders flashing in agony every time I made a move. But the pain was bearable, borne from experience.

Zoe sucked in a breath, visibly calming herself, "And why can thee not do anything? The Judges cannot control thy every move! We can get away. Go somewhere else."

So this day's finally here, I knew it would come, but. . . . . I hoped it wouldn't. "We can, can't we? Get out of here, run for it? The Judges'll know when and where I shadow-travel, so we'll just have to make a run for Orpheus' Passage."

Zoe nodded, now determined, then grabbed a few of her possessions. If only she knew what'll happen. I've already tried to run, but maybe she can get out of here if I hold them -him- off for a while.

"I'll get near Cerberus, then you run. Promise me you'll get out, whatever happens. If you need money, you know where to get it. Run, and don't stop." Taking her hand before any more words could be spoken, I summoned Shadow and shadow-traveled us right next to Cerberus. The massive three-headed dog growled at me, but Mrs. o' Leary was next to him, and she recognized me. With the giant hellhound's barks in the background, the two of us tore into a run.

I knew where Orpheus' Passage came out, between Elysium and Persephone's Garden, and a few miles away from where we are now. Soon, though, I heard more barks behind us, these from a pack of hellhounds, being led to us by the thin man. They were far behind us, but I knew they'd catch up before we could reach the Passage.

The Passage was one mile away, the pack of hellhounds maybe half that behind us. I spun, letting go of Zoe's hand, "Go. I was never going to escape."

Percy's POV

A hellhound dragged me, barely conscious with my body broken and bleeding, into the Judging Pavilion.

"Now, Proctor, surely you realize that you cannot escape from our service?" Minos asked.

I grinned weakly, and whispered, "Zoe. She got away, didn't she?"

"That is unfortunate, yes, but we will find her in time." The dead King of Crete admitted, "And perhaps you will be the one to end her."

"Never." I raised my head, one eye to swollen to open, the other black. "You will never kill her."

Minos glanced at the other two Judges, "He is ready, I believe. Bring Shadow and the Catholicon."

The thin man, who was standing beside me, forced my mouth open and poured the light golden liquid in. I swallowed, feeling my bones straighten and cuts fade before grabbing Shadow, "Ready for what?"

"To appoint new Judges, of course." What? "Step forward and strike me down. I know you wish to, for all the suffering we have forced upon you."

Rage welled up inside me, replacing the resignation that filled me before. Raising Shadow, I loped off Minos' head, and did the same to George Read. Machiavelli raised a hand, making me stop, "Proctor, hold."

He reach upward, taking off his golden mask and exposing his face to me. Niccolo Machiavelli looked like he was in his late fifties or early sixties, with black hair combed neatly and no beard or mustache. His eyes, though, were cold and calculating, but looked at me with interest, as if I was a favored son. Reaching under the table, he withdrew a moderately small box before holding it out to me.

"Take this, and read what it contains. You will need the knowledge if the plan comes to fruition." Machiavelli sighed as I took the wooden box from his hand, "Now, put me to my rest. It has been too long in coming."

I nodded, but hesitated. Should I really . . . he wants me to . . . My hands took action on their own, Shadow arcing down to remove the last Judge from his head. Niccolo's body -just like Minos' and Read's- disappeared, leaving me with the small container. Looking at it, I could see it was a very simple thing, wooden and without a hinge, just meant to keep it's contents away from the wear and tear of handling.

Going back to my room, I sat down and opened it. On the top was a letter, parchment in a modern white envelope:

Perseus Jackson,

If you are reading this, there is be no one to turn to for instruction. The task we have put you to was not meant for you, rather for the Proctor of whichever time was deemed best. That time is now. After two wars, Olympus is weaker now than it has for many years. I believe you are wondering what is gained by overthrowing the gods, and I believe I would be wondering the same, if I was in your situation. Since we, the Judges, are quite obviously gone from this world, you must know that this is for no personal gain. Rather, to correct centuries of injustice. First and foremost, Perseus, I am a Judge. The three of us have ruled that the time of the Olympians is drawing to a close. For millenia, the gods have imposed themselves on the world; They have an unfounded hate of the monstrous and Titan kind, something which cannot be borne. Take Mrs. o' Leary or Sasha, both loyal to you, yet the gods would kill them without a second thought. Many monsters have no need to kill, to eat demigods. And yet, the Hunt and the two camps relentlessly slaughter them. The Pack has no need to draft members as they have been, but they have been locked in a struggle with the Hunt for millenia as well. The gods, as you are no doubt able to tell, would be able to end the Pack or aid the camp in the destruction of the monstrous, but they do not. For the Olympians do not have the strength to defend themselves if Camp Jupiter, Camp Half-Blood, or the Hunt sees the corruption that teems under the surface of Olympus. The gods -excepting Artemis and many of the so-called minor gods- keep the monsters and the camps immersed in a bitter struggle with no possible victory for either side; they do the same with the Hunt and the Pack, ensuring their rule over all. Kronos is no better; he cannot be an ally to you. Many of the Titans could, however, not Hyperion nor Atlas.

Let us look at your own life, Perseus. I have heard your conversations with the daughter of Nemesis, Miranda Lytvyn, and there is truth in her statement of Chiron. Ask Luke -currently residing in Asphodel, despite your request of the gods- about your first year at Camp Half-Blood. As for the search for the Golden Fleece, have you noticed how Chiron "arrived" at the last possible second? And that, as he said to you during the final assault of Olympus, that Centaurs could bend distances? In reality, Chiron was waiting until all hope seemed lost before stepping in. At that time, on the Princess Andromeda, there were a total of thirty monsters, and seventeen Centaurs. Chiron had the force necessary to take the ship, despite his claims to the contrary. Moving onward, he only allowed you and four others to rescue a goddess from a force strong enough to easily capture an Olympian. Atlas could have very easily overwhelmed Artemis, should Zoe not have sacrificed herself for her mistress. And yet, despite the goddess spending centuries with Zoe as her Lieutenant, Artemis shed no tears over her death. At best, she was a toy of Artemis, a tool. A useful one, perhaps, but a pawn just as all other demigods are, excepting two: You, Perseus, and Zoe Nightshade. Needless to say, this behavior, in both the gods and your teacher, Chiron, continued until you died, and for a very targeted purpose: To manipulate you. To make you see them as fearless, to make them trust you. At the time, you attributed Artemis not tearing up as bravery and resolution, but it was neither. Artemis did not care for her Hunter any more than you would care for your axe. A useful tool, but no more.

Those are a few incidents out of thousands. The gods and goddesses have, since their creation, viewed mortals as sources of amusement and bodily pleasure, much as the Titans did before then. Despite what the gods and Chiron have said, no Titan desires human flesh or suffering. The Olympians are nearer to the Titans than they would care to admit, and they prevent demigods from connecting the dots, always distracting those at the camps with quests and monsters. We, I, do not want to overthrow the Olympians for personal gain, but for justice, if there is such a thing. To end the decadence and debauchery that Zeus thrives on. You could take the throne for yourself, and should you defeat Ladon, you could hold that throne for a very long time, perhaps even with Ms. Lytvyn ruling by your side.

Now, you must appoint new Judges, three of them of course. This has happened perhaps seven times throughout history, all three Judges retiring at once. It is much more common for a singular Judge to retire, but that is not important. I have added a list of candidates for your convenience, but I must also tell you of another change: As we have all retired, our power passes to you, and you will delegate that power to the new Judges. Most of it is not useful, within combat or otherwise. You can read the memories of the recently dead, authorize rebirths and the like. As well, you have the authority to command all hellhounds and our thin servant. In addition, you have the skills of many spirits at your disposal, namely Daedalus. Do not hesitate to go to him. All spirits must answer your call, and you are able to summon them much as Nico is able to. If you command a spirit, they must obey. Arai must also heed your words, as they are creatures of a spirit's last curse, and thus created by death and can be controlled, which is slightly more useful in combat.

Now, lastly, you should read the book underneath this letter. It is one of the original copies of The Prince, excepting for the fact that I took some liberties as the author, and tailored it to this situation. If a bit narcissistic, The Prince will be extremely helpful in Roman politics, and even on Olympus. In addition, you will find my personal journal, may it be useful as well. Remember, there is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things. You will be at the head of a revolution, Perseus, do not hesitate to do what needs to be done. You will have the power of the mob behind you; use it.

Niccolo di Bernardo dei Machiavelli

Sighing, I replaced the letter before pulling out a worn, leather-backed book with The Prince written in gold on the front cover. Inside, on the table of contents, were a few extra chapters that were hand-written in, no doubt for this current situation. Under that was a sheaf of paper, parchment, and vellum, Machiavelli's journal. Glancing at my watch, I realized I had spent a good two hours down here, which meant I had less than fifteen minutes to sign up for the Games, or I wouldn't be able to compete at all.

Frantically, I shadow-traveled up to Camp Half-Blood before running to the Big House, where Chiron was arranging everything. I was the last in a short line of people, most of the others no doubt having signed up before hand. The line passed quickly, leaving me to sign up for Swordsmanship, Spear-Fighting, Knife-Fighting, Wrestling, and Swimming. Discus, Archery, and Javelin-Throwing were some other options, but signing up for five competitions would make me busy enough, and while I was passably competent with a bow, I didn't have nearly the Hunt's level of mastery.

Now that step was done, so -after going to a very secluded part of the forest- I shadow-traveled back to the Underworld, to the Fields of Asphodel in particular. Taking out Machiavelli's journal, which I never put back, I looked at the first name on the list, George Jeffreys. Now, how do I summon you? Calling your name? Willing it into existence?

I decided on the simplest manner of making contact, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering. Show me George Jeffreys, in the Fields of Asphodel."

A face shimmered into existence, with long, thick brown hair, black eyes, and a large nose.

"Are you George Jeffreys, former Lord Chief Justice of England?" The figure nodded, "Then I, as the Proctor, command you to go to the entrance to the Fields of Asphodel with all speed necessary to get there in thirty minutes. Don't be late."

Setting my watch for thirty minutes, I headed for Elysium. The ghosts parted for me until I reached a fountain, into which I threw another drachma, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering and show me Isaac Charles Parker, in Elysium."

He had snowy white hair and a thick mustache/beard along with black eyes and a largish nose, "You are Isaac Parker, former District Judge?"

Parker nodded, much like Jeffreys did, so I continued, "Come to the Gates of Elysium in ten minutes."

I cut the connection, then made one more call, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering. Show me Matthew Begbie, in Elysium."

The figure in this IM had a salt-and-pepper beard, little hair hidden by a flat-topped hat, and clutched a pipe, "You are Sir Matthew Baille Begbie, former Chief Justice of the Crown Colony of British Columbia?"

Exactly the same as Jeffreys and Parker, Begbie nodded. Weird. "Come to the Gates of Elysium in seven minutes."

Let's see . . . Parker and Begbie'll come at the same time, roughly in six minutes, then Jeffreys will arrive a good ten minutes after that.

The Gates of Elysium were huge, white, and pearly, but obviously designed with form in mind over the possibility of defense. After all, who would bother protecting a bunch of dead guys? Something was tugging at my mind, something I desperately needed to do, but for the life of me -or rather, second life, I couldn't remember what. Soon enough, Isaac Parker arrived.

"Parker."

The man nodded, "That's me."

"I need to appoint new Judges, and wish to use you as an intern Judge in the meantime before I decide on the three spirits to last until they retire." I said, "Interested?"

"Perhaps, if the position is only temporary, until you may find a more suitable Judge." Parker looked at me, interested.

"It will be, only a few months at most." I replied.

"I believe those term are acceptable." Parker held out his hand, which I shook before he left and Begbie approached.

"You're Begbie?" I asked, to confirm once again.

"Who else would I be?" Begbie replied, "Why have you called me here?"

"I need new Judges, and I need intern Judges so I have time to make the decisions." I stated, "I'd like you to be one of them."

"Only if I can have that post permanently." Begbie replied, "Gets boring 'round here."

"Sorry, can't do that."

"Then no deal. You make me a full Judge, and you'll be hard-pressed to find someone more dedicated, but I want the position." Begbie affirmed.

I nodded, filing that away for future reference, and stuck out my hand, "My apologies, then, and good day."

He took my hand in a strong grip before turning away. Looking at my watch, I saw I had just about a minute left before I had to meet Jeffreys, so I shadow-traveled to the entrance of Asphodel, which was really just an opening in a wooden fence. Daedalus' work was apparent, multiple overpasses and underpasses easing congestion, but I didn't bother with the crowds. Jeffreys was waiting there, a few seconds early at least.

"Jeffreys?"

"I am he who you speak of." Jeffreys confirmed.

"I need a few people to temporarily judge the spirits and sort them into Punishment, Asphodel, and Elysium." I said, like it was an order all but in name, "I'd like you to be one of them."

"Of course." Jeffreys bowed, "Your wish is my command."

"Good." Well, that was easy.

Checking Machiavelli's journal, I looked at the fourth name on the list: Roland Freisler, Punishment. Summoning a light mist of water next to me, I threw a fourth drachma inside, "Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me Roland Freisler, in the Fields of Punishment."

Freisler was balding at the top of his head, still with black hair at the sides, though. He looked rather disinterested with the world around him, and was in his early fifties.

"Come to the gates in five minutes." I ordered, my voice brooking no possible argument. If he was in Punishment, I needed to establish myself as being much more powerful than him. Which I am, after all.

The Gates of Punishment were heavy, Stygian Iron affairs with a high stone wall to either side, clearly meant to keep spirits inside. I shadow-traveled inside, taking my first look at the barren wasteland that was the Fields of Punishment, dotted by lava spraying into the air from small volcanoes. Ha, looks like Mordor.

A few minutes later, a man in an orange prison jumpsuit came up, looking distinguished despite his attire and surroundings, "You are the current Proctor, correct?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, and you were the State Secretary of the Reich Ministry of Justice and the President of the People's Court."

"I am very aware of that, thank you, and I accept the intern position you were about to offer." Freiser held out his hand, which I shook. "Well-met."

That was odd. Turning away, I shadow-traveled back to my room, but I wasn't alone in there. Leaning against the wall was Miranda, poised as always, and holding a white sheath in her hands.

A/N: I doubt any of you will bother to look up those four Judges (I know I wouldn't). They all exist, though, and they're all known as "Hanging Judges", referring to their propensity for death sentences.

Please review, even though this chapter's pretty late.