Percy really didn't like dreaming. Not one bit. For six years, he had put up with prophetic dreams. They showed him battles and quests and other terrible things. They didn't really help with the whole "good night's sleep" concept.

It was especially frustrating when Percy's dream self (a friend of Percy's called it a ba) escaped to the Underworld. Now, Percy had never been especially fond of this place, but he had seen worse. What disturbed him was what he saw and heard there.

Hades sat on his throne and Thanatos knelt at the foot of it. The lord of the dead looked ready to spontaneously combust. He gripped the arms of the throne furiously and spoke through his teeth. "Thanatos, I swear, if this is your idea of a joke…"

It was hard to distinguish Thanatos's tone. Like a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and confusion. "No, my lord. He was not found. I, myself, can't understand how it happened."

Hades jumped up. "The problem is not how it happened, it's that it did happen! If we don't fix this, the order of my realm will be destroyed! Everything will melt to nothingness!" He slumped back down in his thrown and rubbed his forehead. "What a blessing Persephone isn't here to witness all this."

"May I remind you, my lord, that my lady Persephone is to return next month?"

Hades stared at Thanatos, clearly not appreciating the reminder. "So she is." He thought a while longer then spoke evenly. "Be ever on the lookout. He will be hard to find, but not impossible. And make room on your schedule to visit Camp Half-Blood. It's time these demigods knew, with winter comes the sting of death."

Percy woke up in a cold sweat. He bolted up and felt extreme pain in his abdomen.

"Holy Olympus, Percy! You ripped the wound open!" This was a voice Percy didn't immediately recognize. It was definitely a female voice, and sort of familiar if he thought hard about it. He scanned the room and found it belonged to a girl who was frantically getting supplies together.

"Um…"

She huffed. "Do you feel that pain in your gut? It's because you're bleeding, severely. You ripped the stitches open, so congratulations."

Percy looked down to find that what she said was true. He had a large gash on his stomach that seemed to be the source of his pain. He must've been in a fight. Huh, the last thing he remembered was boarding the bus with Annabeth and…

Annabeth.

"Where's Annabeth? Annabeth Chase?" Percy demanded.

"Calm down. She's fine. She's settling in at her cabin."

Percy sighed in relief. The world may not be okay, but she was. That's what mattered to him.

Percy got out of the infirmary bed and fell on his face.

"You can't do that. You're still weak," the girl informed.

Percy stood up shakily. "I noticed."

"I need to stitch you closed again."

Um, needles? No thank you. "No, I'm fine. Just get me to the water."

She stared at him a while. For a second, she looked like she was going to call him crazy. Then she shrugged and said, "Yeah, okay." She walked over to support him, then led him out of the infirmary.

The poor kid seemed to be struggling to support him. Percy tried to make it easier on her by carrying as much of his own weight as he could, but he was weak. Too weak.

She was able to get him to the water. Once he stepped in, his senses heightened. He was more alert. He felt stronger. His wound was slowly beginning to heal itself. Such are the benefits of being the son of Poseidon.

He looked over at the girl who had helped him. She was staring at the water like a calf staring at a new gate.

"Everything okay?" he questioned.

"I grew up in Miami." she stated.

Percy waited for her to say something else. She didn't. "Okay, well nice to meet you, Miss Miami."

"Sorry, I didn't get out my complete thought. I grew up in Miami with my grandparents. They never took me to the beach. I've never been swimming in my life. Not even here at camp… I wonder why…" She seemed genuinely confused. Percy felt bad for her.

"I never caught your name," Percy pointed out.

She quickly erased all signs of confusion from her face and smiled brightly. "Oh, it's Elise. Elise Mosely, daughter of… daughter of Apollo." She didn't sound too sure about that, but Percy decided not to ask. "And you're Percy Jackson."

Percy nodded. "That's me."

"I thought you were supposed to be in New Rome."

"I was. This was supposed to be a vacation of sorts. Didn't really go our way."

Elise hesitated a moment. She seemed as though she wanted to say something, and she was debating whether she should. "Percy… I wasn't going to say anything, but…" She began twisting her pinkie finger. "I was there when you came into camp. I, well, I got you into camp. But here's the thing, all I did was support you, but Nico did that much. You said I did something he couldn't have done. Do you remember what that was?"

Truth be told, Percy didn't recall anything of that sort. He remembered stepping foot inside camp and collapsing in a heap on the ground. Nothing came to mind about Elise's help. To be honest, he didn't even remember her. "Sorry, I don't. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Oh, you know. If I had some sort of power I didn't know about, I'd like to figure out what it was."

Percy studied Elise's face. She really did look familiar. It wasn't her hair. Olympus knows he would've recognized that mess immediately. Her eyes were pretty, but nothing remarkable. They were swampy blue and green. It must've been her smile. There was something about it…

"Percy!" Percy heard Annabeth call from behind him. He spun around. There stood his girlfriend, looking like an absolute goddess. She wore her usual camp-wear: the signature camp T-shirt and shorts. Her hair was unkempt and she looked like she had been crying. But still, she looked like a goddess.

She ran straight into his arms and sobbed into his shoulder. "You're okay. Thank the gods, you're okay."

Percy held her tightly. "Yeah, Wise Girl, I am."

Annabeth pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. Then she punched Percy in the shoulder. "You're so stupid! I tell you not to charge a manticore head-on and what do you do? It's like you have a death-wish! How would I ever tell your mom? What about Tyson? Do you think Grover would've survived that? Honestly, Percy. You need to think!"

"Sorry," Percy apologized sheepishly.

Annabeth sighed. "Just don't scare me like that."

Percy nodded. "I'll be more careful next time. I promise."

Elise, who had silently witnessed the entire exchange, cleared her throat.

"Oh, sorry," Percy exclaimed. "Annabeth, this is Elise, daughter of Apollo. Elise, this is my girlfriend Annabeth, daughter of Athena."

Annabeth extended her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Elise. I hope Percy hasn't given you too much trouble."

Elise smiled and shook Annabeth's hand. "Oh, no. Not much. Carrying him down here wasn't a big deal."

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in question.

Percy cleared his throat and muttered, "Oh, yeah. I, uh… I accidentally ripped open my stitches."

Annabeth snorted. "Typical. And you carried him down here?"

"Well, yeah," Elise confirmed.

Annabeth looked at Elise as though a new light had dawned on her. "Impressive."

Elise shrugged. "I was just helping out my patient, here. My first, so, y'know…"

That's when the conch horn blew, announcing dinner.

"Oh, dinner's served. Great, I'm famished," Percy announced. He began walking toward the mess hall.

"You might consider a shirt, Percy," Annabeth commented.

Truth be told, Percy had forgotten that tiny detail. Nonetheless, he had to play it off. Be cool. "Why? Do you find this distracting?"

Annabeth only rolled her eyes. Percy began walking to his cabin for a shirt. Unfortunately, he tripped. And even more unfortunately, Annabeth saw. He heard both Annabeth and Elise absolutely bust a gut laughing. He only had enough dignity to not look back at them.

Percy reached Cabin 3 and quickly found his old, faded camp shirt. He stared at it a while before slipping it on. It was so faded, it was hardly orange—more like a dark yellow-y color—and you could barely read the "Half-blood" bit.

He looked around the cabin. He had spent so many summers here. It had really been a home more than anything else. Now cobwebs hung from the corners. The cleaning harpies were clearly unconcerned with a cabin that wasn't being lived in. It was a sad sight.

Percy left the neglected cabin behind, and hurried to the mess hall. They had started without him, but Mr. D noticed when he walked in.

"Oh, yes, by the way," the wine god began. "Peter Johnson seems to have made it back alive. Let's add this to his list of mighty accomplishments that will give him a big head. You can cheer or whatever." The campers followed Mr. D's advice.

Percy got his food, sacrificed, and sat down at the Poseidon table. He was alone as usual. If Tyson were here he would've had someone to talk to, but he was back at the forges. Annabeth seemed to be having a great time catching up with her brothers and sisters. It made him smile to see her so relaxed.

Percy looked around and spotted Elise at the Apollo table. She seemed to be in an intense conversation with Will Solace. The look on her face spelled out concern and dread. Percy hadn't known Elise long at all, but he got the impression that this wasn't in her nature. Will looked tired and resigned. It wasn't like him at all.

Chiron stepped to the front of the room, looking extremely worn down, as though he had just heard some awful news. "Campers, I have an announcement to make. This afternoon a much unexpected prophecy was given to us. It does seem unlikely, so soon after the departure of Kayla and Austin, but it is quite important. Jason Grace has been poisoned by the manticore."

This was news to Percy. He had known that Jason fought the manticore, but he didn't know that his friend had been injured. He felt awful that he hadn't checked on him sooner.

"Will Solace—come up here, my boy—has announced that to find the antidote for such a poison would require a quest. A quest that Piper Mclean –if you would join us here, my dear—has agreed to accompany Mr. Solace on. However, the prophecy calls for a third person. It mentions a thief, who has been unidentified. If you know yourself to be this thief, please step forward at this time."

There was a long pause. You could cut the tension with a knife. Everyone was trying hard not to look toward the Hermes table. But then a voice from the back of the room spoke. "I suppose that would be me."

Every head turned in the direction of the voice. Connor Stoll even gasped, "Dad."

For there in khaki shorts and a button-down shirt stood Hermes himself.