Hi again, gang! Have a good long weekend? I was off work yesterday but most of my three-day weekend was spent making Homestuck costumes for an upcoming convention... Fun but tiring. The number of horns I've carved and wigs I've styled and T-shirts I've painted in three days is a little overwhelming, haha.

Anyway, how 'bout an update to start off the week? Or, for those of you who had work/school yesterday, to start off your regular old Tuesday? Thanks as always to last chapter's reviewers! Enjoy!

XXIX
PIPER

Piper's meeting with Jason a few minutes later happened completely by chance.

She was walking away from the Big House, trying to decide how to tell her cabin mates that their missing sibling had been found, when in her distractedness she'd turned a corner around the infirmary tent and run headlong into a very solid person much taller and wider than herself. She stumbled over backward and felt a pair of strong hands grip her arms, pulling her upright instinctively with a surprised shout of "Whoa, careful!"

Piper blinked and looked up into the face of her sort-of boyfriend, whose eyes seemed to widen as they met hers. "S-Sorry," she stammered, trying to force her tone of voice to normal levels.

"Oh—Piper," Jason said awkwardly. He dropped his hands from her arms a little too fast and she felt herself deflate a bit. She hated to think that touching her made him so uncomfortable. "Um… Don't worry, it was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." He gave her a brief, forced smile and turned to go, clearly not interested in continuing any sort of conversation.

But he wasn't getting away that easily. "Jason, wait," Piper said firmly, prompting him to spin slowly back toward her. She looked around to make sure there was no one within immediate earshot before asking, "Can we talk?"

He grimaced, looking over his shoulder. "I don't really think now's the best time. You heard what Chiron said. We've got work to—"

"Can you just listen to me?" she cut across him, frustrated at his avoidance. He blinked hazily, the unintended magic in her voice washing over him, and she drove a fist into her forehead. "No," she said, "no—I don't want to charmspeak you into talking. I want this to be real. Forget I said that."

Now he looked confused. "I—"

"You're not you," Piper blurted out before she lost her confidence. "I mean, you are, but you're not."

Jason frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She sighed shortly. Now was really not the time for words to fail her. "Look… Feeling bad about what happened to New Rome—that's normal and that's okay. But giving up on your friends, the ones still alive—that's not. It's good that you care, that you miss them. But the way you're handling it is… unhealthy. And I'm worried about you." He shook his head, but didn't respond. "I know how you feel, okay? After Drew—"

"This isn't the same," Jason interrupted curtly. "You didn't even like Drew."

"So? You don't have to like someone to care about what happens to them. She's my sister—or, was. Losing somebody you care about isn't a situational thing. That kind of pain is universal. But in case you haven't noticed, I'm not letting it totally take over me."

"Maybe that's because you don't get it. So many people trusted me to protect them, and I couldn't. Think of it like that—you're the leader of Cabin Ten, right? If you'd kept better watch on your cabin mates, taken responsibility, been stronger and surer, don't you think you could've stopped this from happening?"

Piper felt her eyes narrow, her gut twisting uncomfortably. "Are you saying it's my fault Drew's dead?"

"No," Jason backtracked, "maybe—I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying. I just know that people with authority have a responsibility to protect the people who answer to them. And if we can't do that, then what good are we?"

"What good are we?" she repeated incredulously. She was starting to regret initiating this little chat. "I can't believe you. I would've thought that losing somebody else would prove to you that this war is still happening—that we need to do everything in our power to stop it while we still can."

"Maybe we can't," he shot back. "Ever think of that? Maybe losing somebody else will prove to all of you that we've failed! That Erebos and Nyx have won—that we can't beat them. That we're weak!"

Piper smacked him. She couldn't help it—his words had made her so angry. So she raised a hand and slapped him across the face. That silenced him immediately, and he stared at something she couldn't see, looking stunned.

"We are not weak," she said, her voice low and shaking. "And you… You never used to be."

Feeling her eyes start to sting, she spun around and stalked away, blinking the beginnings of tears from her eyes when she was sure he couldn't see her. How could he think like that? Hadn't Chiron just told them minutes ago how important it was that they work together—that they could find strength and hope in each other? They could still resist Erebos and Nyx, as long as they did it as one? Could he really believe that they had no chance, or was he still just so lost in grief and self-pity that it was clouding his judgment? Piper really hoped it was the latter, though that still proposed a problem. It was clear now that she still wasn't able to help him—as Mitchell had warned her, Aphrodite's empathy sense wouldn't work if she was too distracted by personal frustration.

Though she was even less in the mood for it now than before, Piper knew she had to tell the rest of her cabin the news about Drew and Erebos's message. She'd put it off long enough. So she grabbed the first Aphrodite kid she could find—which happened to be Lacy—and enlisted her to help collect their cabin mates for an emergency meeting. It took longer than expected, but before long she was out of stalling time and the deed had to be done.

They didn't take the news well. Sure, Drew hadn't been anyone's best friend. But when she'd disappeared, the entire cabin had devoted their time to trying to find her. Just like Piper had tried to tell Jason, the pain of losing somebody you're connected to was universal. It didn't matter that Drew hadn't been the nicest of people or the most gracious of cabin heads. She was family. And losing her wasn't easy.

Even after her siblings began filing out of their cabin, Piper stayed. A few of them had shuffled over to their beds and were now lying in silence, whether awake or asleep she couldn't tell. No one left behind spoke, though, for which Piper was grateful. Between Drew's unexpected death, Erebos's frightening message, and her argument with Jason, she wasn't up for any more heart-to-hearts. All she wanted was to go to sleep and try to forget everything that was happening, even just for a little while.

But when she lied down, her eyes went immediately to her bedside table—to the drawer in which Katoptris lay hidden. She didn't want to take it out, but her hands seemed to have a mind of their own and were already reaching for the drawer. Before she knew it, she was lying on her side, staring at her reflection in the triangular blade—at the tired, sad eyes looking back at her. The last time she'd looked into the knife had been the last time she would ever hear Drew's voice. She'd gone for help as soon as she could, but was Jason right? Was there more she could have done? Could things have happened any other way?

And then she realized—it didn't matter. The point was that things had happened that way, and there was no way to go back and change it. Thinking in retrospect was a pointless waste of time. With Erebos on the move, they had more important things to worry about.

But Piper intended to learn from this loss. She would be keeping a better guard on her friends and family after today. She had to protect the people she cared about—all of them, no matter what.

With that thought providing just a small bit of comfort, eventually she drifted off to sleep, fingers still gripping the wooden hilt of her prophetic bronze dagger.

Maybe it was the fear. Maybe the stress. Or maybe it was the fact that Katoptris was still in her hand, so close to her sleeping mind. Whatever the reason, though, Piper had a dream that night unlike any she'd had in quite some time.

She was running along a dark, deserted beach, kicking up black sand beside inky water so still it hardly looked real. She didn't know why she was running, only that it was more important than anything that she keep moving forward and not let anything drag her back. Behind was something terrible, something unthinkable. Something she had to stay away from no matter what.

But something was off—something about that feeling wasn't quite real. It was like watching a movie and getting so involved you feel as though you're there, though inside you know it isn't really you who's feeling that way. It was empathy. Just like with Gwen and Octavian, Piper was sensing the emotions of someone else—another person's intense fear and anxiety. But who?

As if in answer to her question, the darkness around Piper shifted and she realized she wasn't running alone—Percy Jackson was beside her. She wanted to speak to him, but something told her to stop. He looked more terrified than she'd ever seen him before—green eyes wide and expression twisted in an anxious grimace. He shot a glance over his shoulder, but behind them was only shadow.

Suddenly he stumbled as though something had grabbed him, and Piper skidded to a halt in the sand. Looking back, she noticed with a jolt of fear that a length of smoky, black rope was tied around Percy's chest, the end of which stretched behind him and disappeared into the darkness. He yanked on the rope as though pulling it from a snag and spun around, setting off again at a run, and Piper was forced to follow him. But they hadn't gone far before the rope was suddenly pulled taught from seemingly nowhere, yanking Percy off his feet with a surprised yell. He struggled up from the ground and pulled frantically on the black rope with both hands. That look on his face seemed so wrong to Piper—he was one of the bravest people she knew. What could possibly have him this scared?

The answer came in the form of a dark, hollow laughter that rang out from every shadow around them. Feeling her blood turn cold, Piper turned slowly as the darkness behind her began to shift and swirl, and out of its depths stepped a man—an evil, terrifying man unlike any she had ever seen. Tall and thin, dressed in a pristine black tuxedo. Sleek, dark hair; pale, ghostly skin. No eyes—only dark voids of space filled with wispy black smoke. And a sharp, pointed crown of volcanic glass.

The King of Darkness—Erebos.

Percy froze, staring at the god as though paralyzed. Piper's eyes followed the rope entrapping him to the end—which disappeared right into Erebos's chest. Erebos's cruel smile widened as he reached up and wrapped his long, white fingers around the shadowy rope. He pulled hard, once again yanking Percy off his feet. He climbed back up and tried to run, but Erebos only laughed and pulled again. Percy's feet dragged backward through the sand and he screamed in frustration and anger, fighting against the force. Piper wanted more than anything to reach out to him, but she couldn't move. Erebos smiled that evil smile and stepped backward into the thick shadows, pulling on the black rope all the while, and Piper was helpless to watch as Percy struggled in vain, losing ground fast. He reached out a hand and screamed again—this time not in anger, but in fear—before the shadows swallowed him completely.

"NO!" Piper cried, at last finding her voice. She ran forward, but she was far too late. Percy, Erebos, that horrible shadow—all of it was gone. She spun around, looking for something—anything—that would explain to her what had just happened, when the darkness again began to move and the King of Darkness appeared once more, staring down at her with those shadowy, eyeless holes.

"What have you done with him?" she demanded harshly, storming up to the god and balling her hands into fists. "Let him go!"

Erebos only smiled, looking amused. "No weapon can break a bond of darkness," he said, his voice a low, quiet whisper. "You cannot save him. No one can." He stepped backward and began to laugh, the sounds of his triumph filling Piper's head and erasing her hope and will.

"No…" she said weakly. "Wait!" But again she was too late. Erebos had gone, and she was alone on the dark, silent beach.

Wuh-oh. That can't be good.

Review? Pretty please? Next chapter should be up on Friday. I've got a busy couple weeks coming up with prep for my con, but I'll try to keep my updates regular. Thanks, guys! Later days!

-oMM