The difference was everywhere but mostly in the little details. Bricks under his feet instead of concrete or asphalt, buildings with the same red shingled roofs, the sound and smell of water, and about a hundred other little things that made him feel like he was in another world. It was a shock though, going from mild weather in New Rome to the heat of Venice in the summer. Suddenly, he regretted wearing jeans and not shorts. He followed behind his parents as they left the alley and ended up on some main street.

"It's exactly the same," Percy said happily as he looked around.

"Yeah I don't know why but I was worried that alley wouldn't be there anymore. But things don't change here like they do in America," said Nico.

Percy took his hand and whispered something in his ear that made him and laugh and Cesare rolled his eyes.

"Get a room, guys," he said, making his Dads laugh harder. "Speaking of rooms, where is the hotel?" he asked, struggling with his bags and squinting against the sun.

"We're close," Nico said, looking back at him.

They rounded the corner of a building and suddenly he was right next to the water. There was a gondolier guiding his boat down the canal. Cafes and restaurants lined the streets here and there was so much foot traffic that he had to work not to fall behind. There was a covered bridge up ahead and he hoped they didn't have to cross that because it looked jammed with tourists taking pictures.

"In here," said Nico. He barely had time to see the outside of the hotel before they went inside.

He felt immediate relief from the heat when they stepped inside the building. The inside looked like a period drama brought to life, everything was 18th century classic. There was a room off to the right that looked like a restaurant area. He didn't even need to smell the food before his stomach rumbled. A few guests made their way through the lobby and there were staff milling around as well. He saw a couple of bell boys waiting by the desk. Everyone seemed pretty relaxed until someone behind the counter called out to them.

"Buon pomeriggio a tutti e due! Benvenuti all'Hotel Rialto!" The staff in the vicinity snapped to attention and smiled at them.

He followed his parents to the check in desk and signed in. Nico chatted with desk clerks in Italian. Usually he had no one to talk to in his native tongue besides Cesare, but he still managed an easy speaking rhythm.. The Concierge handed his Dad two keys and signaled the bell-boy, who rushed over to take their bags. He loaded the luggage on a cart and led them to the elevator.

"So what are we doing first?" Cesare asked excitedly.

"Your Dad needs a nap. He's tired from…traveling," Percy said, casting a glance at the bell boy crammed in the elevator with them.

Their rooms were on the third floor. Cesare got one all to himself. It was decorated in red and white with an 18th century table and chairs. The headboard for the bed looked so fancy he wondered if they stole it from Marie Antoinette.

His Dads got some romantic suite with windows that overlooked the Grand Canal. The sheets, curtains, and carpet were green and gold with matching furniture. Cesare was busy poking around the room while his parents tipped the bellboy. The bathroom attached to his Dads' suite had two sinks, a huge bathtub, and was floored in fake stone tile.

"Your bathroom's way nicer than mine," he called out. He was about to compare it to their bathroom at home when he remembered that they technically didn't have a home anymore. He tried not to dwell on it and walked back to enjoy the view. Nico threw himself on the bed as Percy and Cesare looked out the windows at the city.

"I'm hungry," he said to his Dad.

"Me too," said Percy.

"Oh gods, it's started," groaned Nico but he had a sleepy smile on his face.

"What?" Cesare asked him.

"Wait till you see how much your Dad can eat here," he said, toeing off his shoes.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," Percy joked, "but get me in front of that fish soup and we'll see."

"You two go find lunch," Nico said as piled the pillows under his head.

"We'll come wake you for dinner," Percy said on their way out the door.

Back outside the tourist traffic was still everywhere and he bumped into people more than once. He blamed himself for that because he was so distracted by everything. The boats tied up along the Grand Canal, the sound of Italian being spoken everywhere, and the contrast of the architecture. All the buildings looked like they'd been standing for generations. A water-bus went by and he nearly plowed into a woman as he tried to watch it sail down the canal. Percy ended up having to grab his hand and pull him along. He headed back the way they came to get to the hotel down a street called Calle Larga Mazzini. This street didn't have nearly as many people on it. He could only make out a couple walking far ahead.

"Dad, do you know where you're going?" he asked Percy.

"Umm kind of?" Percy responded brightly. "But if we get lost you can always ask for directions."

"Can we please not get lost? I'm too hungry, I'll pass out and die in this heat," he said, but his mood was still high.

"You're a demi-god," said Percy, "a little heat won't kill you."

"Technically, I'm a demi demi-god. What are the children of demi-gods called at Camp Half-Blood?" Percy seemed to ponder that for a moment before shrugging.

"Not sure. There aren't many, if any, children of demi-gods at Camp Half-Blood. Usually when a half-blood decides to leave camp and make a life in the mortal world, they train their children themselves but it's not often it comes to that. Most of them die being out in the open with monsters after them, and others chose not to bring children into that."

They passed a gelato shop and Cesare stopped to stare inside.

"We can come back tonight for dessert," said Percy.

"So, there won't be anybody like me at Camp Half-Blood?" he asked, walking faster to catch up. Percy threw and arm around his shoulders and ruffled his curls with his other hand.

"Son, there was no one like you at Camp Jupiter. You're just going to have to live with being one of a kind," he said smiling gently.

Eventually, Percy did find the restaurant. It was called Devil's Forest Pub and he was surprised by the American choices on the menu.

"It's cheating, I know, but your other Dad will be mad if we go to any of the good Italian restaurant without him," Percy said biting into his burger.

When they got back to the hotel Percy told him he could wander around a little as long as he stayed close to the hotel and promised to be back by five for dinner. He agreed and got a little wad of Euros, but he had to make another promise not to sneak back to gelato shop without them. Instead, he headed straight for the Rialto Bridge. It was past lunch now so all the tourists who had gone in search of food were back to sight-seeing. It took him longer than expected to cross with all the people stopping in the way to take pictures. He was heading for a café when a gondolier called out to him.

"Volete fare un giro lungo il canale?" Would you like a ride down the canal?

"No grazie," he said and kept walking.

"Sei sicuro? Che harpie non attaccherà se tu sei con me." Are you sure? That harpie will not attack if you're with me.

He whipped his head around and the gondolier was suddenly a handsome man with wings. He was leaning on his oar and smiling pleasantly at Cesare. He dropped back a little closer to the boat but didn't turn his back on this odd angel. Scanning the area he saw nothing at first but then he spotted an old lady up ahead, staring at him. After what happened in New York he knew having the undivided attention of a woman that old was trouble. People continued to pass him and he tried not to look so stiff but years of habit were hard to break. His muscles were taut and ready to spring into action and he was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Get in, she won't bother us," the angel said in English.

"Who are you?" asked Cesare cautiously.

"My name is Favonius, god of the west wind, and I'm an old acquaintance of your parents." He rustled his russet colored wings and smiled brighter.

"You work for Cupid, right?" asked Cesare.

"That's right. Your fathers have mentioned me?"

"Once or twice," he said. He remembered that Percy didn't really have a problem with the guy but Nico got annoyed whenever they were reminiscing and his name popped up.

He edged closer and stepped into the boat. Once he was seated Favonius pushed them out into the water and rowed them away. Cesare looked back to find the old lady but she had already disappeared.

"It's dangerous without a weapon or your parents," said Favonius.

He almost blushed with embarrassment. He'd forgotten that he no longer had a sword. It was Imperial gold and belonged to Camp Jupiter now.

"I'm not helpless," he said defensively. "I know how to use my powers."

"But could you be discreet with them in a crowded place like this? Could you have lured her away and still been close enough to the water to use it? Harpies are fast, she would have been on you before you could summon the dead."

Favonius cut a wide arch and turned the boat around.

"My master sent me with a gift," he said. A sword appeared in his hand and he offered it to Cesare.

"Why would Cupid give me a sword?" he asked, looking from the weapon to the god holding it.

"He believes it will serve you well if you can master it." They were close to the bridge now and he wondered what the mortals saw. No one pointed, or stared so he guessed they couldn't see Favonius's huge wings, but could they see the sunlight glinting off of the metal parts of the sheath? Cesare took it and examined the weapon.

"It's Roman," he said puzzled. "From all the ornamentation I'd say it belonged to someone high up in the Legion."

"It's sort of Roman but not exactly," said Favonius.

"What do you mean? The scabbard is Roman."

"True, but the sword is Celestial bronze."

They passed under the Rialto Bridge and its shadow gave them a brief respite from the heat but it didn't last as they came out the other side and glided toward the hotel.

"Why is a Celestial bronze sword in a Roman sheath?" he asked.

"I'm afraid that's something you have to figure out yourself. The histories of Greece and Rome are full of complicated events that have never been solved. Look at how long it took to find the Athena Parthenos after the Romans took it from Athens. This sword was in the middle of such an event. It hasn't had an owner since."

"And Cupid thinks I can master it? Become its new owner? How?"

"You're the only one who can solve the secret of the sword. Once you do that you should be able to claim it," the god said with a shrug.

The gondola stopped in front the hotel and he climbed out, holding the sword as inconspicuously as possible.

"Give my regards to your fathers, especially Nico. I'm proud of how he avoided having a fate like mine."

Before he could ask what that meant, Favonius spread his wings and took off in a rush of wind. He didn't have time to stand around staring so he rushed inside, hiding the sword as best he could and went up to his room. He sat down and looked at the sword closely. It was shaped like a Roman Gladius, similar to his old sword. The sheath was made of leather and wood and decorated with tinned bronze depicting moments in Roman history. It looked perfectly standard, like any sword belonging to a high ranking leader.

He wrapped his hand around the ivory and wood hilt and pulled the sword from the sheath. The bronze gave off a soft glow that seemed to dim the light in his room a little. There was no doubt, it was Celestial bronze. It was made like a Gladius but glowed like Riptide. He angled the blade and saw his reflection in the still polished surface. Then light flashed off the blade. It only took a split second but now the eyes looking at him weren't his. They were dark brown and looked hard with determination and anger. His breath caught before he could shout and then he falling into blackness.

It was a jumble, a cluster of images flashing in front of him. Some of them went by so fast he had no time to see what they were. Others were slower, but not by much. He saw a young man around his age walking through the streets of an ancient city with his friends. They were wearing togas. They laughed and stole fruit from stands and made rude gestures at anyone who dared stare at them or chide them. The boy with the dark eyes was in the center. He had black hair cut close and a reckless look to him. His arm was thrown around a blonde boy's shoulders as they walked.

The images rushed by again and he saw the same two boys together in a room. They were naked on a bed that looked well used and the blonde moaned softly as the dark haired one kissed his way down the front of his body. There was another rush and he saw the group of friends together again in what looked a tavern. They were drinking and gambling. Half naked girls sat on their laps and laughed with them but once again the blonde boy was close by his "friend's" side. It didn't seem to bother him when the darker boy grabbed a girl's breast or kissed her. The next thing he saw was the dark hair boy –a little older now—walking up a hill into a city. It wasn't Rome. It actually looked like the Acropolis of Athens except it wasn't ruins, not like it was today.

Whatever force gripped him and pulled him into the past suddenly let go. He was flat on his back on the bed in his hotel room and too stunned to breathe for a second. He had the sword clenched tight in his fist but he let go of it quickly. He sat up and looked at it as it rested on the bed next to him. The only thing he saw in the reflection now were his own eyes. He hesitated at first but eventually worked up the nerve to pick it up again and sheathed it. He stuffed it in bottom of his duffle bag. That would at least keep it out of sight so housekeeping wouldn't find it and think he'd robbed a museum.

He knew he should run down the hall and tell his Dads but he couldn't move. He stood there staring at the duffle bag trying to make sense of what he saw. Who was that boy?

"I'm going to dinner, are you coming?"

Blaine tapped his pen on the surface of the table as he read the same report for the third time.

"Blaine?"

Even though she spoke softly -as she often did when they were alone- Stacy's voice annoyed him. He nearly snapped at her but stopped himself. He just took a deep breath and looked up from the paper. She was standing in the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge her. She had a hopeful look on her face like maybe he'd finally start acting like himself again. Some part of him knew he'd been aggravated ever since Cesare left, but he couldn't help how angry and hurt he felt. And some part of him blamed Stacy.

"No," he said in a clipped tone and went back to staring at the report.

"Okay, maybe I'll see you for breakfast?" she asked gently.

He didn't bother to respond and after a few heartbeats she walked away. He tried to concentrate but now reading the report was pissing him off. It was some request to build a new unicorn stable. This is what happened when something had to change in Camp Jupiter. The matter was assessed, reports were filed, it was reviewed by the Praetors, sometimes they could decide on it, but if the issue was big enough it was discussed in the Senate. All of this before a decision was even made about it. No wonder Cesare felt smothered here.

Blaine balled up the report and threw it across the room then he kicked back from the table and growled as he swiped half of its contents onto the floor. Stacks of paper toppled, pens and pencils flew, but it wasn't nearly satisfying enough. He yanked at his armor, ripping the cape off his shoulders and flinging it aside. The rest of the fitted gold metal came off in pieces and he sent each one sailing to a new location –sometimes taking more stacks of paper and books down as they went. He even yanked off his camp t-shirt and ripped it half. It wasn't until he was down to his jeans -chest heaving and eyes stinging—that he noticed someone in the corner of the room.

"Why are you here?" he asked harshly.

When the figured came out of the shadows he saw that it was a girl around his age with long black hair and skin as white as paper. She was small, almost as petite as Stacy, and her face was doll-like. She wore tattered black jeans and a SPQR t-shirt that was in the same condition.

"It's frustrating isn't it?" she asked. Her voice was a soft whisper but he heard her clearly. "If he hadn't felt so trapped here, he never would have left."

"You shouldn't be in here," he said looking around at the mess he made.

"I know but I thought you could use a friend," she said coming closer. "Don't get me wrong, Stacy is a great Praetor and I'm sure she's a very understanding girlfriend but she enforces the rules with such an iron fist."

"It's her job. Our job," he corrected and started to pick up the papers from the floor.

"But look at what it cost you," she said sadly. She knelt next to him. Her feet were bare but somehow that didn't strike him as odd. "It wouldn't hurt if some of these rules were abolished. Maybe if he sees that this place can change he would come back."

"Some of the smaller rules are useless," he agreed.

"But Stacy would never go for it," said the girl with a little laugh. "She'll never compromise either. She'll fight you on this just like she did about him. She always fought you on everything. You wanted to ease up on a lot of the protocols around here in the past but she argued you down. And when it came to him she fought you even harder. Now she's managed to drive him away."

"I should have broken up with her. I never thought…he must have hated seeing me parading around with her on my arm. And he never said a bad word about her."

He threw away the few documents he'd managed to gather and started pacing. He was too worked up to notice how the girl watched him silently, her eyes tracking his movements like predator.

"He always defended her and she just dumped on him any chance she got! And what did I do? I just sat back and let her! I let this place get to him! I chose this office over him!" he roared.

Suddenly the girl was next to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder but instead of comfort, he felt fire. Her bare skin on his made him feel righteous in his fury and suddenly he wanted to tear everything down.

"But you can use this office to get him back. Change this place for the better."

"How?" he asked without a shred of hesitation.

"The Romans are so stubborn and dedicated to their rules. We might need help. I can get it."

"He'll come back?" he asked her.

"Of course he will. We just need get rid of everything that drove him away," she said quietly. Her hand burned into his skin but he didn't pull away, when he looked down he had a perfect hand-shaped welt on his shoulder.

"I'll go," she said smiling, "You take care of Stacy. We can't have her standing in the way again."

For a second he saw something in her dark eyes. It looked like fire and ruin, like great cities brought low as mobs ran wild, but he blinked and it was gone. His mind was filled with thoughts of Cesare. Getting him back was all that mattered.

"She won't be a problem," he promised.