Hi again! Thanks to everybody who reviewed Monday's chapter. I promised you another long, action-packed one to follow, right? Welp, here it is :D

Enjoy!

XLIX
PERCY

Percy didn't think things could get any worse. But as usual, he was dead wrong.

Erebos could have been bluffing. He could have sent them all that vision of their camp in flames as a scare tactic, a last-ditch effort to distract them as his army fell around him. Everything could have been fine—they could have had nothing to worry about.

Sure, Erebos could have been lying. But somehow not a single person believed that he was.

"Freakin' coward," Clarisse growled, kicking a pile of monster dust and pushing her wet hair away from her face. "Why doesn't he come back here and fight like a man!"

Percy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna work."

As he picked up his sword from where he'd dropped it during Erebos's broadcast, Clarisse turned on him with a stiff glare. She opened her mouth to retort, but remained silent as her eyes slid over his shoulder and her eyebrows drew together. Percy spun around to see a minor commotion behind him as a girl's voice suddenly yelled in pain and someone else shouted, "Stop, you can't just rip it out!"

Alarmed, Percy jogged past a few other recovering campers to see that the person who'd screamed was Katie Gardner. She was kneeling on the ground beside a boy from her cabin who had evidently just tried to pull the black arrow from her shoulder.

"Back off," Annabeth said firmly as she pushed through the small crowd and shooed the Demeter boy away, kneeling down to inspect the wound herself. Her eyes were distinctly wild and dark, probably over worry for their camp, but she didn't mention Erebos. "We need a healer. I saw Will a little while ago—"

"I'm here," another voice sounded behind Percy and he turned again to see the Apollo counselor approaching with a stony expression. His right hand was gripped over his left arm, which was soaked with blood and hung limply at his side.

"Hey," Percy said, stepping in front of him. "You're—"

"I'm fine, let me through," Will cut him off, pushing past to get to Katie. As he set to work on her shoulder, Percy bit his tongue and grimaced in an effort not to argue. He had to remind himself that they were in a war, and it wasn't over yet. The long, trying battle they'd just fought had taken a major toll on them. Many were hurt, others dead. And now, even after greatly reducing Erebos's forces, the King of Darkness still couldn't be beaten. But Percy refused to believe that everything they'd done so far had been for nothing. There had to be a way to end all this.

With a frustrated growl, he turned and walked away from the others, massaging the sides of his head and trying to calm his nerves. Barely a few seconds had passed before a hand landed on his shoulder and someone said, "Percy." He lifted his head and turned around to see Jason standing behind him with a serious expression. "I don't want to be insensitive, but… I gotta know." His eyes darted to either side before his voice dropped and he went on, "You could sense Erebos earlier. You knew when he was coming for us. Can you feel anything now? Like… did he really leave?"

Percy sighed, gaze lowering to stare at the stone street. The last thing he wanted to do was focus on his connection to the King of Darkness. But Jason was right—maybe it could actually help them. His strength had come back as he'd left the palace that evening, separating himself from Erebos. But as the night had worn on, things had changed. The wind and rain had picked up, and with it the shadows had seemed to strengthen, as if they were absorbing any light that remained in the air. The painful twisting sensation in Percy's chest that he knew was what tied him to Erebos had gotten stronger as well, more difficult to ignore. He'd been worried that it meant the gods' battle was getting closer to them—or worse, that they'd been defeated.

But then shortly before Erebos sent them his message, the feeling had died down again. He'd thought maybe, with some stroke of luck, his father and the other Olympians had won. But then at once he and his friends had all shared the same vision—a vision of Camp Half-Blood besieged by Erebos's fire—and it had clicked.

"He's not here," he answered Jason heavily. "I could feel him getting closer or stronger or… something. But then he just… disappeared." He looked up to see regretful understanding in Jason's eyes. "He's not on the mountain. I don't think he was bluffing with that little public service announcement. And I know you don't think so, either."

Jason cursed in Latin. "I was afraid of that. If that's true, though, I'd still really like to know what happened at the palace. Where are the gods? You think they followed Erebos?"

"Most of us did, yes."

Percy and Jason weren't the only ones who jumped and whirled around at the sudden flash of light and accompanying voice. As it faded, standing before them was a man with short, curly, salt-and-pepper hair and a disgruntled expression. He was dressed in Greek battle armor and his free hand was gripping a three-foot wooden staff topped with dove wings and decorated with two live, slithering snakes.

"Hermes," Percy recognized him at once, his eyes widening.

Hermes raised a dark eyebrow. "Percy Jackson," he said in greeting, inclining his head just barely. "Your father wishes you well. He and his brothers sent me to bring you all an update on our… situation."

Percy frowned. "They sent you?"

Hermes's expression hardened. "Yes, the god of messengers, sent to deliver a message. Shocking, isn't it?"

"No—uh, that's not what I—"

Oh, don't mind him, dear, a raspy, female voice spoke in his mind—and judging by the people cringing around him, he wasn't the only one who heard it. He's just grumpy because the battle hasn't been going well.

Hermes rolled his eyes. "That's one way of putting it."

Aw, he just needs a nice, quality rat, a similar, though decidedly male, voice responded. A tassssty meal will get anybody back in a good mood.

I suppose you're trying to be thoughtful, but I hardly think that will help.

On second thought, give me the rat. Give him a smack upside the head and he'll be good as new.

George!

"Enough!" Hermes shouted, and the two arguing snakes twisting around his caduceus hissed and fell silent. Turning back to Percy and the others, he went on, "We all appreciate the work you've done here in the city. In a way, it's good that we have Erebos on the run. However, as you seem to have guessed, his message was no idle threat—and yes, we saw it too. Apparently, the second he realized his army was being depleted, he decided for a more underhanded approach. He's at your camp now wreaking who-knows-what havoc."

"What?" someone said in disbelief.

"So those visions were real?"

"We have to stop him!"

"He can't get away with this!"

"Yes, I know," Hermes interrupted, holding up his free hand. "That's why most of us have already gone after him."

"Then we're going, too," Percy said at once, looking Hermes in the eye unflinchingly.

"You will never hear me say this again," Clarisse added, crossing her arms, "but I'm with Jackson. No way I'm sitting here while our camp gets destroyed."

The god sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised. Not that I think it'll change your minds, but just so you know what we're dealing with—Erebos is more powerful than you realize. All the darkness around you, that's what gives him strength. He's figured out a way to divide his body among the shadows, to scatter himself and multiply. It's the reason we haven't been able to defeat him, and we have no cause to believe he isn't doing the same at your camp."

"If that's the case," Jason spoke up, "then you guys are gonna need all the help you can get, right?"

Hermes looked frustrated. "But understand what you're getting into—"

"Camp Half-Blood is our home," Percy said adamantly, hearing a tentative murmur of assent behind him. "We'll defend it from anyone, no matter what."

Hermes's eyes narrowed like he perceived that statement as a threat, but before he could reply Martha's voice interrupted, Then it's settled, hmm? We're all going back to Camp Half-Blood.

Do we have to? George complained. I hate that place. Not very snake-friendly—they hardly have any rats.

How can you possssibly be thinking about food at a time like this?

Because I'm hungry!

"When this is over," Hermes replied, glaring at the snakes as they blinked at him innocently, "you can have all the rats you want. But for now, I need you two to focus."

Yessss!

As you ssssay.

"Good," Hermes said with a short sigh. "Now, if you're coming back, I recommend you get moving immediately. That it, if you want to see your camp before it's reduced to a pile of ashes. Oh, which reminds me…" His dark blue eyes scanned the small congregation of campers and his sharp features tightened into a frown. "Where's the fire user—the one who freed Hypnos?"

"Leo?" Jason said. "He's around here somewhere. Haven't seen him since we left the palace."

"Find him. Hephaestus will be doing his best to put out the Nightflame but help would be appreciated." Percy and Jason nodded in understanding and Hermes's eyes brightened a shade. "Good luck, all of you. I'm sure I'll see you again soon." And with that, there was a blinding flash of light and the god vanished.

"I'm gonna try to find Reyna," Jason decided, his expression turning serious. "I'm sure she's already planning to go back, but the extra info couldn't hurt."

"Leave Leo to me," Annabeth volunteered, stepping forward with her stormy eyes trained on the spot from which Hermes had just disappeared. She blinked and glanced up at Percy, adding, "You should call Blackjack and get to camp straight away. We'll meet you there."

"Right," Percy agreed before Annabeth leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. As she and Jason set off in different directions, Percy turned to the campers gathered in the street. "Everybody who's injured, stay behind. Get healed up. Everybody else, we're splitting up. Some of you need to spread the word—tell whoever's left what Hermes said and that we're going back to stop Erebos for good. The rest of you… Get moving as quickly as you can. Hop a pegasus, steal a car, whatever you have to do to get back to Long Island as quickly as possible. …We don't know how much time we've got."

As everyone started to mobilize, Clarisse came to stand beside Percy, her spear resting against her shoulder. He didn't look at her, only watched his friends' somber, convicted expressions as the heavy weight in his chest seemed to increase with every breath.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out," Clarisse said, elbowing him a bit too hard in the arm. When he turned to face her with a glare, she added, "Not very like you. Don't make me take back my support."

Unconsciously, the scowl slid from Percy's face and instead he gave Clarisse a rueful smile. "Okay," he said admissibly, forcibly steeling his nerves. "Let's go fight a god."

-ψ-ψ-ψ-

Nightflame. Apparently, that's what Erebos's dark fire was called. Sort of a fitting name, Percy thought, as it looked like the night sky in flickering, burning form—swirling black and blue as it chewed at the buildings spread throughout the camp. It had taken Percy and the other pegasus-riders under half an hour to return to Camp Half-Blood, and during that time he'd almost succeeded in convincing himself that things couldn't have been as bad as they'd looked in the vision.

And—as usual—he was wrong again.

He decided not to waste time focusing on the chaos and instead work on finding a way to fix anything he could. He'd barely sent Blackjack away to avoid the flames, though, when somebody called his name and he turned to see Lou Ellen Baker and two of her half-siblings running toward them.

"I'm glad you guys are here," Lou Ellen said breathlessly, leaning over and resting her hands on her knees. "We've got a few problems."

"Yeah, I can see that," Percy replied wryly. "What's going on here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," another voice interrupted as a small team of Roman legionnaires joined them as well, Octavian at the front. He and the others were covered in dirt and ash—and in some cases, blood.

"First this black fire suddenly springs up," Octavian went on, waving an arm aimlessly behind him, "then some of the gods decide to pay a visit, then the shadows themselves start coming to life and fighting back. What the heck is going on?" He paused and frowned at Percy in momentary wonder. "Wait, weren't you missing?"

"We beat most of Erebos's army," Percy explained quickly, ignoring that last question, "but he escaped the gods and came here, threatening to destroy the camp. We talked to Hermes—he said Erebos has… split himself? Like he's using the darkness as some kind of medium."

"That explains why people have been seeing him all over the place," Octavian said thoughtfully.

"I hope you're right about his army," Lou Ellen added, looking agitated, "because we're having an extremely difficult time maintaining the barrier with Erebos's darkness spreading through the camp. Even under the lights it's like it just sucks our power out of us."

"Don't overdo it," Percy warned her. "Everybody's on their way back. We'll have help soon." Turning to Octavian, he asked, "What about the people who can't fight? Are they safe?"

"There aren't many safe places left," Octavian admitted ruefully, "but we've been gathering the children and elderly in the newer cabins by the stables. They've got a hefty guard, but if the fire spreads there I don't think we'll be able to stop it. Nothing we've done has been able to put it out."

"It takes immortal light fire," Lou Ellen reminded them, "like Nico said earlier. Well, or Erebos has to stop it himself, but I don't think that's about to happen."

"Hermes said Hephaestus is working on the fire," Percy explained, "and Leo's on his way back, too. We just need to contain the damage as much as we can while they get that under control."

"Easier said than done," Octavian pointed out.

Percy shrugged in agreement. "So what areas need the most help?"

Octavian gave a short sigh that clearly said, All of them. "The Big House was hit first. Most of us went straight there to try and keep the fire from reaching the infirmary, but it's probably only a matter of time. Especially since we can't move some of the injured. I was just on my way there now. The next things he went for were the forge and equipment sheds—undoubtedly to try and keep us from getting to the rest of our supplies or replacing anything that's been lost. Since then it's been more or less random."

"Okay," Percy said firmly, turning to the people who'd arrived with him. "A third of you go with Octavian to the Big House and do whatever you can to beat back Erebos's darkness and protect the infirmary. Clarisse, you take another third and see what you can salvage from the equipment sheds. The rest of you are with me. We'll take the forges."

And with that, the group scattered at once. Percy headed straight for the forge, trying to ignore the black fire and people running and screaming across the corners of his vision. Rain was falling just as it had done on Mount Olympus, breaking the weather barrier above the camp and making the ground beneath their feet slick with mud and wet grass. Though even that did nothing to quench the Nightflame.

When they reached the forge, Percy finally understood what Hermes had said about Erebos becoming the darkness, and what Octavian had reported about the shadows fighting back. Humanoid figures had formed from the darkness and were attacking people and buildings alike with swords made of dark obsidian. They had no faces and didn't speak, but moved as fast as wind. He watched anxiously as one shadow wraith cut down a Roman soldier and another demolished the remains of the giant, double doors that guarded the forge's main building.

"What are those things?" somebody behind Percy asked in a quavering voice.

"Erebos's power," Percy answered gravely, "in living, killing form. Don't get sliced up." Without waiting for a reply, he tightened his grip on his sword, wishing wholeheartedly that he had some kind of armor, and charged into the madness. He pushed aside someone who was about to get speared from behind and swung Riptide in an arc, aiming for the wraith's middle. He stumbled a bit when, unexpectedly, his blade passed through its body as if he were, in fact, trying to cut a shadow. The wraith made a hissing noise like water dropped on hot pavement and raised its blade, bringing it down in a deadly swipe. Reflexively Percy pulled his sword up in defense, having a brief, terrifying vision of the black sword passing through his own and slicing him in half like a salami loaf. But thankfully the creature's blade was more substantial that it was, because the obsidian slammed against Riptide with a resounding clang.

Regaining his footing, Percy threw his weight against his sword and shoved so hard the wraith was knocked backward, arms flailing. It stumbled out of the beam of light over the forges and into the shadows, and instantly the darkness seemed to cling to it like a magnet. It straightened and raised its sword with renewed vigor—until the bronze blade of a camper's sword sliced through its neck from behind and it exploded in a rush of wind.

Percy blinked in mild surprise. So they couldn't be killed in the light, and while the darkness made them stronger it also made them more substantial—more vulnerable. That was definitely good to know.

As quickly as he could he spread this news to the others who'd arrived with him, trying to lead the shadow men away from the light at any chance he got. The wraiths were causing general havoc in and around the forges, not bothered at all by the Nightflame, and slow progress was being made in eliminating them. Beyond the ruined buildings, Percy could see the strawberry fields—or rather, what used to be the strawberry fields. Now they were all burned to dust.

After cutting down his eleventh or twelfth shadow man—he'd lost count; it might have been more—Percy caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned instinctively, but the wraith behind him wasn't aiming his way. Its sword collided with that of another camper, a guy just barely shorter than Percy, as the latter blocked the strike and followed up with a slightly wild attack of his own. The wraith, standing in the dark and fueled by the surrounding shadows, dodged quickly and struck again, and likely would have sliced the kid in half had Percy not surged forward and shouldered him aside, parrying the obsidian blade himself. The guy stumbled and fell as Percy gritted his teeth and shoved the wraith's sword aside, pivoting around and driving Riptide's blade through the creature's chest. The resulting gust of dry wind blew rain in his face and almost knocked him over.

"You alright?" Percy asked the other camper, offering him a hand.

He ignored it and pulled himself to his feet, grumbling, "Thanks, but I had that thing."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Sure you did." He was about to turn away, not in the mood to waste time on arguing, when he finally got a good look at the kid and did a double take. "Wait, I know you. Kendall, right? You were in Central Park the day we fought the drakons."

Kendall scowled, the split brow over his blinded eye angling downward in a seemingly reflexive gesture. "Yeah, I was. And on that subject, I thought you guys wanted us here 'cause this place was safe. Not that I was expecting a playground, but this is a bit much, don't you think?"

"Can't say I disagree," Percy admitted with a rueful half-smile. "This wasn't supposed to happen. But now that it has, we've got to deal with it."

"You think I don't realize that?"

Suddenly they were interrupted by a loud explosion. Stumbling as the ground shuddered beneath his feet, Percy spun toward the sound to see two of the equipment sheds blasted apart by a storm of Nightflame, throwing people into the mud amid a chorus of screams. Without a second thought Percy ran toward them, Kendall on his heels. The first person he came to was already dragging herself into a sitting position and looked to be fine, if a little shocked and winded. The second, however, was badly burned and unnaturally still. Another person nearby was trying and failing to extinguish the black fire eating at his arm, and still another had a jagged piece of wood lodged in her right thigh. Percy felt a flash of helplessness as he wanted to do something for them all at once but had no idea what, until a furious voice nearby screamed with rage and he whipped around to see Clarisse charging into a group of shadow men.

With one last anxious glance at the injured people around the wreckage of the two sheds, he ran toward her. The explosion had taken out the closest lights, throwing them in a wide patch of even darkness. But that didn't seem to bother Clarisse at all. She tore through one wraith and used the back end of her electric spear to knock another's feet out from under it. She stabbed a third, sending a bright arc of electricity through it and causing it to explode. But more were coming from all directions, whether attracted by the battle or the darkness Percy couldn't be sure. When he reached the nearest one he wasted no time; he stabbed it in the back and it disappeared, and a few of its friends turned to face the new disturbance as a result. Two swung for him in unison and he threw himself onto the ground, before rolling sideways and lashing out with Riptide, slicing through a creature's leg. It stumbled and swung its sword wildly, narrowly missing its brother, who ducked and dove toward Percy. He scrambled out of the way and brought his sword down, cutting through its neck.

He caught a glimpse of Kendall joining the fray nearby before another two wraiths tackled him from behind and his sword was almost knocked from his hand. He stabbed blindly over his shoulder and was rewarded with a strong rush of dry wind as he must have speared one of the attackers. He was then able to shove the other one off and climb hastily to his feet, spinning around in time to barely block the blade aimed at his chest. The creature followed up quickly and shoved forward, and Percy diverted its strike at the last second, its sword glancing off his own and instead slicing a shallow cut across his left arm. He felt a swooping sensation in his lungs as the darkness inside him did some kind of dance, and he gasped and stumbled backward, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. Two wraiths decided to take advantage of this at once and surged forward with alarming speed, but there was a flash of movement and they both burst into empty air. Catching his breath, Percy glanced up to see Clarisse flip her spear and stare back at him. Her hair and clothes were badly singed, most of her armor was gone, and she had a wide gash on the side of her face. There was blood on her arm as well, though he couldn't see where it came from. The look in her eyes was dark and stony—the same one she always got when people she cared about had been hurt or threatened. That explosion had apparently snapped something inside her, and suddenly Percy was extremely glad they were on the same side.

Though, if he was honest, she was kind of looking at him like she was seriously considering running him through with her electric spear. He stayed still for a moment, waiting, until her eyes darted to something over his shoulder and she shouted, "Behind you!" before turning away and reengaging another shadow man. Percy spun around to see three of them barreling toward him. He stepped to the side and swung Riptide, hearing the blade clang against glass as one of the creatures blocked his strike. Another aimed for his legs, but he leapt backward, bringing his blade down on its shoulder. He threw an arm over his face as it exploded right in front of him, and was rewarded with a kick to the stomach while he wasn't looking. His feet slid on the wet grass and he landed on his back, rolling quickly to the side as a sword whisked toward him and instead embedded itself in the mud. He twisted and kicked the wraith's feet out from under it, then jumped to his knees and stabbed it through the chest, rewarding himself with another dull hiss and rush of stale air. The third one dove for him with no sword and both arms outstretched, and he was pushed back to the ground as its shadowy hands wrapped around his throat. His sword remained stuck blade-first in the mud, just out of his reach. He tried to grab the creature's arms, but its body was oddly insubstantial, there but not completely solid. He could feel it, but he couldn't get a good hold. It was like trying to close your hand around a glob of Jell-O.

Grinding his teeth and struggling for breath, Percy reached a hand toward his sword as though he could call it to him with his mind. Obviously nothing happened, and in frustration he let his arm drop to the mud with a squelch. The unpleasant sound gave him an idea, though—sure, rain didn't exactly qualify as a body of water, but he'd succeeded in controlling sewer water and sprinkler systems before. Maybe this could work, too.

The wraith made a steam-like hissing sound and its grip on Percy's throat tightened. He squinted his eyes and ignored the dark blotches trying to obscure his vision, instead focusing on the drops falling from the sky and soaking into the ground. He felt a familiar tugging sensation in his gut, though this time it was unexpectedly accompanied by a painful tightening in his chest, as though Erebos's darkness was resisting this attempt wholeheartedly. But there was no way he was letting it win, not this time. With a defiant yell, Percy clenched his left hand into a fist and slammed it into the mud. The falling rain in a three-foot radius all slanted and sped toward the wraith, as twin streams of water sprang from the ground on either side of it. Everything rammed into it at once and it burst into air, disappearing in a gust of wind and rain.

Percy gasped and sat up straight, coughing as air quickly refilled his empty lungs. The water dropped heavily to the ground and the rain began falling normally again as though nothing had happened. A powerful ache had taken root in his chest and his limbs felt surprisingly weak. "Guess I won't be trying that again in the near future," he muttered a bit hoarsely, grimacing in discomfort.

"Get down!" he heard Clarisse suddenly shout from a distance, and he turned his head in time to see her shove Kendall to the ground and use the bladed end of her spear to slice off the outstretched arm of one of the five wraiths who'd been about to skewer him. She blocked the blade of another with the back end of her weapon, but she couldn't stop the other three, and Percy froze in horror as two obsidian blades stabbed her in the back and the third impaled her stomach.

Somehow even that wasn't enough to completely stop her. She yelled angrily and swung her spear, decapitating one of the shadow men. As it and its sword disappeared, the other two yanked theirs back and scrambled away from her, backing up just out of reach of her spear. She turned toward them and took a step, but that must have been all she could handle because her legs gave out and she dropped heavily to the ground.

"NO!" Percy yelled, somehow finding his strength again and springing to his feet. He cleared the length of the wreckage site in seconds, skidding to his knees in the mud beside Clarisse and hardly believing what he was seeing. She was probably the toughest person he knew. She never got hurt and she never lost. Seeing her now, covered in blood and barely breathing, just wasn't right.

"Why…?" a low, gruff voice said quietly, and Percy twisted numbly around to see Kendall climbing slowly to his feet and staring unblinkingly at Clarisse. Surprisingly, there was anger in his brown eye. He had the look of someone who had always fended for himself, and hadn't ever imagined doing things any other way. "Why'd she do that? She had no reason to…"

"She… said yesterday," Percy replied distantly, "that… children of Ares were protectors." Kendall shook his head defiantly and Percy looked back down at Clarisse, feeling like he was about to be sick. Her eyes formed a weak glare as they shifted to meet his.

"Jackson…" she said in a tired voice, probably trying for her usual haughty bravado. "Why are you… sitting around here? Haven't you… got a king to dethrone?" And then her eyes darkened, and her body grew still.

Percy didn't move. He knew there were still enemies around them, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to fight them back. He and Clarisse had never gotten along; they'd butted heads ever since his first day at Camp Half-Blood. They'd been forced to work together on occasion, but it rarely went well. So why did watching her die leave an odd, insistent, emptiness inside him? They weren't even friends.

But when he thought about it, he realized that that wasn't true. After all—he'd lost enough friends to recognize what it felt like.

A dull hissing nearby indicated the arrival of another group of shadow wraiths. Percy blinked and shook the loose rainwater from his face as Kendall slowly picked up Clarisse's spear, holding it in both hands and staring at it with his face twisted in anger. Then he gave a raspy yell and spun sideways, swinging the spear and slicing the blade through two wraiths like they weren't even there. He took a step and rammed the butt of the spear against a third's chest and it stumbled backward into another, and he twirled the weapon around with both hands and drove the blade through them both like a shadowy shish kebob. Percy flashed back briefly to seeing Kendall fight with a sword and realized that he wasn't actually uncoordinated, it had just been the wrong weapon for him. The length and stability of the two-handed spear seemed to suit him a heck of a lot better.

By the time Percy finally climbed to his feet the nine wraiths that had approached them were gone. Kendall glared at Clarisse's body and Percy had to force himself not to follow his gaze; he didn't want another reminder.

They were both distracted, however, when a bark of gruff laughter suddenly rang through the air and a bright flash of light announced the arrival of another god—and not one Percy could ever remember being happy to see.

"You," he said in an uncontrollably low voice. "What are you doing here?" He stepped between Clarisse and the god in what could have been perceived as a protective gesture, a glare on his face. As far as he was concerned, if anyone held any blame for her death besides Erebos, it was this god.

"Cool it, Waterboy," Ares replied with his usual mirthless smirk, hands straightening the cuffs of his leather biker jacket. "I know you think you're everyone's favorite, but I ain't here for you." He took a step toward Kendall and clapped a hand on his shoulder, causing Kendall to stumble a bit from the force. "Now that was some impressive weapon work, kid. We just might make somthin' outta you yet."

"Who are you?" Kendall asked less-than-kindly, leaning backward in apprehension.

Ares raised an eyebrow. "Hey, how 'bout showin' your old man some respect? I could blast you to dust just by liftin' a finger if the urge struck me."

Kendall blinked and raised his eyebrows and Percy said, "Wait, he's…?" His voice trailed off as he realized that based on the few times he'd met Kendall, this actually made a marginal amount of sense.

As if reading his mind, Ares smirked and said, "See the resemblance, huh, Jackson?" He reached up and lowered his sunglasses, exposing the tongues of fire in his eye sockets, and winked at Kendall, who jumped violently and jerked backward. Ares laughed in response and let go of him.

"Wait, slow down," Percy said, feeling irritated. "You're kidding, right? Your daughter dies and you stop over to have a laugh and congratulate someone else instead of showing any kind of remorse? I mean, I know you're a jerk, but I would've thought even you had a little appreciation for the people who die for you."

Ares's smirk vanished and the fire behind his sunglasses flared. That probably hadn't been the most intelligent thing to say, in retrospect. But the war god's aura was powerful and Percy really wasn't in the best mood to begin with. He was tired of the way they all basically gave their lives for their immortal parents and time after time received nothing in return.

"You think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ares said coldly, stepping forward. "You think just 'cause you and Sea-Daddy are big ol' saps means the rest of us operate the same way. Well, newsflash, kid—we don't. My children ain't about mournin' and weepin'. They're about honor and valor. You knew her, yeah? You tell me honestly you really think she'd want us sobbin' over her and hey, I'll arrange the wake myself when this is all over. But you and I both know that ain't the truth."

Percy remained silent, anger fading. The god was right. There was no way Clarisse would react fondly to people crying for her, especially her father. He stepped slowly backward out of the way and watched quietly as Ares dropped to one knee behind Clarisse's head.

"She was one o' the greatest," the god went on, "and I ain't about to insult her by not givin' her the respect she deserves. You want me to show some appreciation?" He put a hand over her face and her body seemed to glow crimson for a short second. When he removed his hand, her eyes were closed. If Percy didn't know better, he'd assume she was sleeping.

"There," Ares said with finality. "Now nothin' will move or harm her 'til the battle's over." He looked up and shot Percy a hard look. "I'm trustin' you to handle it after that."

Something tightened in Percy's chest and he had a fleeting vision of Erebos drawing closer. "We are gonna win… right?" he asked tentatively.

Ares stood and brushed his hands together. "I ain't gonna lie to ya, kid, things aren't all sunshine and rainbows right now. Erebos's copies have us split. We're tryin' to lure him into the light and take him down but the worm has a habit of hidin' in the darkest shadows. What we need is a permanent solution—and the sooner the better. But speakin' of, I'd better get back. Just wanted to make sure you," he nodded toward Kendall, "know to keep up the good work. I'll be watchin'." He shot once last look at Clarisse and his mouth seemed to stiffen into a straight line, before he nodded shortly to Percy and vanished in another flash of red light.

After a long few seconds of silence, Kendall said blankly, "So, that was…?"

"Ares," Percy answered. "God of war. Congratulations. I guess you've just been claimed."

"Wait—what?"

Percy gave a half-smile and opened his mouth to further explain, but froze when a sudden and crazy thought crossed his mind. "Hiding in the shadows…" he repeated distractedly, prompting Kendall to blink and frown in confusion. What Ares had said brought to mind something Erebos had told him in a dream: Light has a way of strengthening darkness. An inner argument started flashing back and forth in his mind, debating an idea. One thing, though, was certain: if things were really as bleak as they seemed, he'd have to hurry.

Without another word, Percy turned heel and started running from the equipment shed wreckage site. "Hey—hold on!" Kendall shouted, following after him. "Where are you going?"

"To find someone from the Hephaestus cabin!" Percy called back as he rushed past a group of people trying to put out a fire near the arena. He slowed his pace and scanned the crowd, but it was mostly Demeter and Dionysus kids. Another group fighting near the forest was made up almost entirely of Romans with a few Athena kids mixed in. Judging by the increased volume of activity, he assumed more of the army that had stormed Olympus must have returned (though it was still far from everyone). There had to be at least one Hephaestus camper around somewhere. That is, unless they'd all been injured or decided to travel on foot.

When he reached the cabins, a bright blaze of orange fire caught his attention and he looked around hopefully. And sure enough, there was Leo, standing beside Cabin 7 and extinguishing the Nightflame that had begun to creep up its outer back wall. When the fire vanished, Leo bent double and rested his hands on his knees, looking up at the cabin as though inspecting it, and Percy took the chance to sprint toward him and shout, "Hey! Leo!"

Leo stood straight and looked around. "Percy?" he said as Percy skidded to a halt in the mud, Kendall still on his heels. Leo glanced toward Kendall and his eyebrows drew together. "And… I have no idea who you are."

"Kendall, son of Ares," Percy introduced him quickly. "Listen—I need your help. You know where the lights are controlled from, right?"

"Of course," he replied with a bewildered frown. "Power relay's down by the fireworks beach just outside the forest. But we already have a bunch of guys there protecting it, if that's what you're worried about—"

"No, I need to get in there. But I might need help."

"Why?"

"Because…" Percy paused, knowing the rest of his sentence probably wasn't about to go over well. But he had a plan and he knew, somehow, that it would work. All he needed was for the others to trust him.

So with a deep breath, he answered firmly, "We've got to shut off the lights."

Sounds like a good time, heh heh.

So since this three-chapter set is like the main final climax, I'm probably gonna space it out a bit. Make it more dramatic, you know. The next chapter is over 8,000 words long (this one is about 6,000, to compare), so when it does eventually show up you'll have plenty to read. How 'bout reviewing in the meantime to let me know what you're thinking? I'll try to be good and respond if needed, haha.

Later days, gang!

-oMM