Hi, gang! Thank you all of you who reviewed last chapter! Ready for another update? And another new POV? And some more background on the war and the state of things? How about what some other characters are up to? If you answered 'yes' to any of those questions, then congratulations! Read on for your prize!

IV
PIPER

Jab low. Left sidestep. Turn. Swing high. Duck. Push forward. Spin. Swing low.

Piper loved combat training. The jarring clang of metal against metal was strangely therapeutic. It monopolized her focus and blocked out everything else, all her other problems and worries and fears. All that mattered was the sword in her hand and her opponent's next move. There was no war, no darkness, no evil hovering over her and threatening to drag everything she held dear to a shadowy oblivion. There was only her—her focus and her breathing, her footwork and her agility. She didn't love fighting, exactly, but she loved being strong—capable of protecting the many things in her life that she had to protect. That was why she did it, why adrenaline swam through her veins whenever she blocked a strike and she felt a rush at the dull thud that sounded whenever she landed a hit against armor.

Her dueling partner, however, didn't seem to share that sentiment.

"I yield!" he shouted, hopping on one leg after Piper's bronze sword collided with his left shin guard.

"Not yet, you don't," she argued, spinning around and whacking the flat of her blade against her opponent's side. He cried out and stumbled back.

He then made a wild swing toward her shoulders with his own sword, but she leaned back, avoiding the blow and ducking toward him. She turned sideways and jammed the hilt of her sword into his stomach. He gasped and fell backward onto the ground, turning and curling his body into a ball with a groan and another claim of "Yield, I yield…"

Piper gave an exasperated sigh and loosened her stance, letting her sword arm fall lax at her side. She reached up and pulled off her half helm, shaking her head so her messy hair fell down to her shoulders. "Mitchell," she said flatly, fixing her opponent with a pointed look, "we aren't gonna win this war by yielding. If you yield against Nyx or Erebos, you die."

"Maybe," Mitchell replied, pulling himself into a sitting position and removing his own helmet, "but I've got enough cuts and bruises to know that yielding against you is still the better option."

Piper sighed again, though this time more submissively. "I'm sorry," she admitted, reaching down and pulling him to his feet. "I just… don't want you to get hurt. Any of you."

Her half-brother arched an eyebrow. "You've got a funny way of showing it," he said wryly, but when she frowned his expression seemed to soften. "Kidding," he explained. "I understand why you push us so hard. Really." With a slightly rueful smirk, he added, "I just wish for a little more padding sometimes, is all."

She smiled, glad he wasn't truly angry with her. She'd been the first of the Aphrodite kids to take up sword-fighting, but not long after that the rest of her cabin-mates had followed her lead. She was glad—they were in a war, after all. The last thing she wanted was for her friends to be thrown into the fray without any way to protect themselves. She'd never told them outright that she wanted them to learn to fight for their own protection, but by the look of things, she didn't need to.

"I can't go too easy on you," she pointed out. "I don't want to lose my edge."

"Why didn't you just ask Jason to spar with you?" Mitchell suggested. "That guy looks like he can take a hit. And throw 'em back a lot better than me."

Piper pressed her lips together as she felt her muscles tighten, her limbs suddenly hard as lead. "He was busy," she said stiffly, trying to keep the twinge of tightness from her voice. Evidently, she'd failed, because the look on Mitchell's face flashed from confusion to a sort of embarrassed understanding.

"Oh," he said lamely, clearing his throat. "Well… I should probably go get cleaned up. Lots to do today, you know. Um… Thanks, Piper. For the help. And the bruises." He shot her a slightly awkward grin before turning and shuffling out of the arena, off to who-knows-where.

Piper looked after him for a long minute before her eyes slowly traveled up toward the huge, stadium lights set up around the arena, their brilliance temporarily blinding her. She hadn't wanted to scare him off, but he'd broached a subject she wasn't entirely keen on talking about, so perhaps it had been unavoidable. All of Piper's friends and general acquaintances knew that she and Jason had been spending less time together, but the number of people who truly knew why was much less impressive. Many of them probably attributed it to the fact that things had been extremely busy since the start of the war, and to be honest, that may have been part of it. But the truth was that ever since the night of the lunar eclipse, Jason had been different.

There had been close to 150 casualties when New Rome had been sacrificed to raise Erebos from his prison. The loss had been worse than Piper could have imagined, and it had cut them all deeply. Spirits had been broken, morale shattered. Their sense of safety and security had crumbled, so many hopes buried in the sand with the city they'd come to know and rely on. The Greek demigods had welcomed the Romans, giving them a haven when they had nowhere else to turn to. It had been difficult—it still was difficult—but Reyna and the other Twelfth Legion officers had worked with Chiron and the Greek leaders to unite their Resistance. It was a group effort, one that everyone had a role in. And while Jason had readily accepted whatever task he was needed for, his attitude and countenance had changed. Reyna had made every attempt to put aside her grief, but Jason seemed to let his consume him.

For whatever reason, it was obvious that he blamed himself for what had happened. Piper had tried to tell him that that was stupid, that he did everything he could and Nyx's power and planning had simply been too much for them. But he wouldn't listen. Some part of her thought it understood what he must have been thinking. He had grown up with these people, had risen through their ranks and become leader at a young age. Then before the Giant War, he'd been taken from them and forced to forget they even existed. But even when his memories had returned, still he hadn't gone back to Camp Jupiter for many more months—and when he did, it was with a host of Greek demigods. And he'd left them again that same day, gone off traveling while Reyna had led the rest of the Legion to war. After Gaea's defeat, they'd welcomed him back—even restored his position as praetor. Things had gone well for a while, until Nyx intervened and transported the entire city of New Rome to Death Valley, trapping them at the base of a sandy hill. With Reyna gone, it had fallen to Jason to protect the Legion—to save them. To figure out what had happened and stop it before it was too late.

And he'd failed.

To him, that must have been the final straw. Piper had told him not to feel so guilty, that everyone made mistakes and that everyone could be forgiven. But he'd only shook his head, telling her that he wasn't someone worthy of forgiveness. He didn't deserve it, and he didn't deserve her. That was over four weeks ago. And they hadn't spoken since.

With a sigh, Piper shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, her fingers catching in days of tangles and knots that she'd been too preoccupied to comb out. She didn't have time to think about Jason and his problems. In a war, there were always things to do. She'd been meaning to pay a visit to the infirmary, which seemed as good a plan as any. So after stowing her equipment in one of the sheds by the arena, she hurried back to her cabin to quickly change and wash some of the sweat from her face before setting off across the camp, taking in some of the sights as she walked and thinking back on how the place had changed in the last month.

A number of additional cabins had been hastily built to make room for the Romans and new recruits, and the existing campers had been shuffled around to free up more space. A lot of them were still staying in the cabin belonging to their godly parent, but that wasn't always the case. The Apollo and Demeter cabins had been emptied for new arrivals, their residents moved into various other places. Many of the Athena and Aphrodite kids had offered up their beds and chosen to move elsewhere as a courtesy. A large chunk of the Hephaestus cabin had moved into the forges or equipment labs—or Bunker 9, in a few cases—because of the amount of work they'd been charged with. Between forging new weapons and armor, building roofs to put over people's heads, and engineering the lighting equipment the camp utilized due to the constant darkness, they were always busy. Some of them, Piper knew, often went days without sleep, and the small amounts of sleep they did get were often spent lying on the floor beside whatever project they'd been working on.

The new housing and lighting structures made the place crowded enough, and the increased number of people made it worse. It wasn't as though you couldn't walk through the camp without running into people, but before, it was possible to travel from one place to another without seeing anyone. Now, there wasn't a chance of that. No matter what time of day or night it was, there were always people about—training at the arena, working at the forges, milling about the cabins, meeting in a free corner, visiting the gigantic tent put up outside the Big House that served as their expanded infirmary. Sometimes there were good moods, oftentimes there weren't. Above the stadium lights, the dark, starless sky was always visible—a constant reminder of the war literally looming over their heads, of the danger they just couldn't completely escape.

Piper had made it halfway to her destination when something caught her eye—a recruitment party returning from a mission. Recognizing some of them at once, she diverted her course without a second thought, breaking into a jog as she headed up the hill.

As she reached a hand up and waived, she realized that party was larger than expected. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were there, predictably, as well as two young girls Piper didn't recognize whom she assumed must have been the new arrivals. Following them, however, was a group of eight Hunters of Artemis—including their lieutenant, Jason's sister Thalia. Seeing her inevitably brought Piper's thoughts veering back to Jason, but she tried her hardest to push them aside and give her friends a smile.

"Hey, guys," she said when she was within earshot. "Welcome back. Looks like your mission was more of a success than expected."

"You could say that," Percy said with a glance toward the Hunters. "How are things here?"

"No change," Piper reported. "We had a bit of a scare with the barrier a few hours ago, but nothing major. Everything's fine now." She nodded toward the two young girls, both of whom were surveying the camp with wide eyes. "These the newbies? Any ideas on parentage?"

"We've got a few guesses," Grover answered. "I'm gonna show 'em around, introduce 'em to a couple of the head counselors and see if anything clicks. Katie first?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Katie first," Annabeth agreed, and Grover took a hand of each of the two young girls, leading them past Piper and down the hill.

"Piper, right?" Thalia said with a glance at Piper, touching a finger to her chin. When Piper nodded, Thalia smiled and asked, "How's my brother?"

Again, Piper stiffened. She noticed both Percy and Annabeth quickly avert their gazes, suddenly looking uncomfortable, and she understood why—they were two of the few people who knew what was really going on between Piper and Jason. When the pause she took before answering was just a few seconds too long, Percy cut in lightly, "I'm sure he's off working on something in his cabin. I swear, that guy's always busy nowadays." Piper shot him a grateful look and he smiled.

"Guess I'll have to drop in on him later," Thalia decided, and if she'd sensed something awkward about the situation she didn't let it on.

"I'm gonna check in with Chiron," Percy said, shifting the pack on his back as his eyes suddenly grew serious. "Stuff to talk about. You coming?" he asked Annabeth.

"Actually," she replied, "I was thinking I'd go check in with Will. See how Rachel's doing."

"That's where I was headed," Piper remembered, shooting a glance toward the infirmary.

"Great," Annabeth said with a smile. "Then we'll go together."

"I'll come with you," Thalia suggested to Percy. "I should report to Chiron, too. It's been a while, after all." She turned to her fellow Hunters and nodded, and they started past her and down the hill. Piper ignored the displeased looks they gave her, probably sensing who she was—the Hunters of Artemis had never gotten along well with children of Aphrodite.

"Let me know if you learn anything new," Percy said to Annabeth and Piper, before he leaned over and gave his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek, his hand holding onto hers a few seconds. Then he grinned at Piper and lightly punched her shoulder before he and Thalia jogged away toward the Big House.

The brief show of affection pulled at something sharp in Piper's chest, as though a needle had been yanked quickly out of her heart. She tried to hide it, but she must not have done a very good job, because Annabeth smiled sympathetically and said, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Piper argued, shaking her head. "With everything that's going on, you guys deserve every happiness you've got. Don't let me ruin it by being stupid."

"You're not stupid," Annabeth said firmly. "You're just… going through a rough time. Don't worry, okay? …He'll come around." She reached out and gripped Piper's hand, offering a friendly smile that Piper couldn't help returning.

"I hope so," she agreed, before leading the way down the hill away from the camp border.

They reached their destination a few short minutes later. As they pushed aside the hanging canvas over the entrance and stepped inside, Piper quickly realized that they weren't the only visitors. The infirmary tent was large enough to comfortably house dozens of patients, more if comfort was overlooked. They'd had no casualties since the start of the war, but quite a few injuries—with fighting happening every week, it was unfortunately unavoidable. A few members of the Apollo cabin were overseeing the healing, monitoring their stocks of ambrosia and nectar and only using them for injuries that couldn't be treated with mortal or magical methods.

Annabeth and Piper strode down the center aisle toward the bed against the farthest back-left corner. In it lay the first person who'd been settled in the new infirmary—their Oracle host, Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She was sleeping soundly and stilly, but beneath her lids her eyes shifted back and forth, her brow just barely creased as though she were dreaming. Her breathing was slow and even, her skin unnaturally pale. She looked the same as she had for weeks.

On the chair beside Rachel's bed sat a thin, red-plumed harpy. She was perched with her feet pulled up on the very edge of the chair, leaning forward as though preparing to dive. Her brown eyes were fixed on Rachel, her head tilting slowly back and forth as though seeing her from a different angle might make her suddenly look better.

"Hi, Ella," Annabeth greeted the harpy. "Any change?"

Ella shook her head, not looking at Annabeth. "No change," she said quietly. "Change. Change is good. 'Be the change that you wish to see.' Mahatma Gandhi, 1869 to 1948. Change. No change."

"Hey, guys," a voice said suddenly, and Piper and Annabeth both turned to see the head counselor of the Apollo cabin, Will Solace, approaching them. Piper was struck by how worn out he looked. His limbs sagged at his sides and his face was a loose mask of no expression, his blue eyes dark and bloodshot. His blond hair fell dirty and unkempt to his ears, and his clothes were wrinkled. She resisted the urge to tell him how awful he looked, knowing that he'd been working tirelessly in the war effort. It felt like an insult to ask him to take it easy.

"Hey, Will," Piper responded with a smile. "How's Rachel?"

Will shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Not good," he said, and Piper was slightly impressed that even though he looked so tired, his voice was as sure and strong as ever. "She's breathing okay, but she hasn't woken up and her pulse is still weak. We've switched to feeding her intravenously to get her the proper nutrients, but it's like she just can't get her strength back. The most that's happened is occasionally she'll mutter something in her sleep—snippets of prophecy, I think. It's rough to make out, and doesn't make much sense. Some of it we've heard before." He placed one hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair, frowning down at Rachel. "I've tried everything. Ambrosia and nectar have no effect, even healing hymns. I just wish there was more I could do."

Piper didn't respond. She knew he was already doing everything he could, and saying it aloud seemed unnecessary. Instead, she followed his gaze toward Rachel. So far, no one was absolutely sure exactly what it was that was ailing the Oracle. She had just suddenly collapsed at the start of the war, on the same night that Erebos had risen and the sky had darkened. Will was in charge of overseeing her condition, and according to him, it was as though something had swooped in and suddenly sapped all of her strength, like her life force was being pulled away and she was barely hanging onto it. Annabeth had a theory—that the darkness was somehow clouding the Oracle's sight, and that that in turn affected Rachel's body. The Oracle of Delphi had bound itself to her will, to her spirit. If it was weakened by the blanket of darkness surrounding them, then it would follow that Rachel would be weakened as well. This unfortunately would mean that the only way to save her would be to defeat Erebos and bring light back to the world.

Her heart growing heavy like it had been wrapped in drying cement, Piper twisted around to observe the remainder of the tent. About half the beds were occupied with patients, injuries varying from sprained ankles to a number of bloody lacerations to grade-three concussions. One guy from the Athena cabin had had his left hand sliced off at the wrist, and a Roman legionnaire from the Third Cohort had been placed in long-term care after an incident that had resulted in third-degree burns covering the entire right half of his body. Greek and Roman medics were milling about with clipboards and stethoscopes, checking on patients every few minutes.

It struck Piper as odd how quickly they had settled into the life of a wartime refugee camp—odd, and also sad. On the one hand, it was great that everyone was willing to do their part and help out. On the other, though, she would have given anything for them not to be forced to make the choice at all.

A flicker of movement caught her eye as the canvas flap at the other end of the tent was pulled aside and Connor Stoll, one of the two co-head counselors for the Hermes cabin, stepped inside. Piper assumed he was there to visit someone injured and her gaze had already begun to slide away from him when he suddenly caught her eye and started toward her. She frowned at his quickened pace, wondering what was going on.

"You guys," he said as he approached the back of the tent, his eyes shifting between Piper, Annabeth, and Will. "Chiron's called a council meeting." Piper's eyebrows shot up as Connor grinned and added, "Word is there's some news that could get us back in touch with the gods."

But we already know that news, don't we? All that's left is to decide what to do with it, heh heh.

Shoot me a review on your way out! I'll probably update this on Friday, so keep an eye out. The next chapter gives us a major plot introduction. Later days!

-oMM