"Masey, baby." His Mom shook his shoulder.

"What? Mama, I was sleeping." Mason rubbed his bleary eyes, frowning.

"Shh, I know, I'm sorry, little light ray. I need to show you something."

Mason's blanket dragged along the floor as his Mom pulled him from his room and along the corridor. Frankie's light was on in her room, casting a splash of colour from under her closed door.

"Why does Frankie have her light on? She's not gonna be able to sleep, and you said we're not allowed our lights on after eight!" Mason crossed his arms and stomped his foot outside his sister's door. It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't-

"She is asleep, Mason." His Mother whispered. "Inside voice, okay? We don't want to wake her up. And her light isn't on."

"I can see it, Mom!"

"Shh," his Mom whispered. "What did I say about your inside voice? Open her door, just a crack, alright? Don't wake her up."

Mason scowled, trying to turn the creaky doorknob without making too much noise. This was a stupid prank. He might have been little but his brain was big. That's what Mom told him all the time, anyway. He wasn't falling for whatever this was.

Oh.

Frankie was asleep. And her light wasn't on. She...

Little particles of light were coming from every inch of her skin, floating around the room, but it didn't end there. Above her crib, like some kind of mobile but infinitely more beautiful, was Frankie's own personal little lightshow.

"I've been watching over her for weeks, trying to figure out what the lights are," his Mom told him. She didn't need to be quiet, because she had that kind of calm that made everything better. Mason understood why she was whispering, anyway. If either of them were loud, some kind of spell would be broken. That was how it felt anyway, irrational as it was.

And what a pretty spell! The light formed two figurines, one much smaller than the other, clearly a baby, flying around the bigger figure, which was reaching out whenever it got close enough. It was like a strange game of catch. Occasionally, a flash of another figure would appear, dancing around the two, before dissipating again when Mason blinked. It was a clear picture - Frankie, the baby, playing with their Mom. Sometimes when Mason was good enough he joined them, too. Mason wondered how Frankie could even do that when she was asleep. He knew she had light powers, but... this was something he'd never seen before.

"The lights are her dreams," Mama told him.

"Why are her windows locked?"

His Mom flicked a sleepy hair from his forehead. "Perceptive, aren't you?"

"Percep... Percy... Per... what does that mean?"

His Mom sighed. "You see small things. Most people don't. I lock her windows to keep the monsters out."

Monsters? Mason shuddered. It hadn't started until Frankie was born. He'd spent the first three years of his life like any normal child, but then, when Frankie was a few months old, things had changed. A very tall man had tried to take her from her stroller at the park one day, while his Mom was rustling through her purse for ice-cream money. She'd looked just in time, clutched Mason's hand in hers, grabbed Frankie with her free arm and run. They hadn't even gone back for the stroller. The weirdest part had been that Mason was sure the man had only had one eye.

Mom hadn't had any choice but to tell him everything, then.

She hadn't wanted to. Apparently if people like him (demigods, he was a demigod, how cool was that?!) knew what they were, then the monsters could smell them more easily. Mason thought that was dumb, he showered every day, but whatever. His Mom had only told him because of Frankie, who could produce and control light however she pleased. She used to cause power-cuts through the entire apartment complex when she was a newborn and needed feeding. Apparently, demigods also had a stronger scent if they were more powerful, and there was no way he could look after her or himself if he didn't know what was going on. That was the less-cool part about being a demigod. His Mom took Frankie to work with her, and he still went to school, but other than that, none of them ever really left the apartment anymore.

"I can fight all the monsters, Mama! I can! Then when I kill them all we can go out for ice cream again, and Frankie won't have to lock her windows."

His Mom smiled. It was sad. "It doesn't work that way, Masey." She told him. "Monsters don't ever die, not really. And your sister is small. She can't do anything against them. Do you understand what that means?"

Mason shook his head.

His Mom sighed. "Until she can fight, she only has me, and you. And I'm not always there. I told you about camp, do you remember?"

"Yeah, the one with the horse-man!" Mason was supposed to be going this summer, and he was excited. He didn't have many friends anymore, and now he'd get a whole camp of them! Maybe even other siblings. Not that he didn't love Frankie - she was great, she could even talk, which was weird, because most babies couldn't at such a young age. The problem was that her interests were limited to that mildly terrifying cartoon about a kid who used his super-powered-puppies to fight crime, and trying to invade the fridge to spread food across every available surface of the table. She didn't make for very good company. Maybe he had other siblings, his age, that he could talk to!

"Yes." His mother laughed. "The one with the horse man. I need you to take her with you, this summer, when you go for the first time."

Mason frowned. "But I thought you said she was too young. You - you said that I got to go this summer, just me!"

His Mom frowned. "Mason, you'll wake her up!"

He looked away, crossing his arms, and felt a hand on his head. "I'm sorry, Masey. I know this isn't fair. You're just... going to have to grow up a little faster. The monsters are becoming too much, and I can't protect her. She needs to learn to protect herself. She might be young but they can still teach her things that I can't. I need you both to be safe, Mason. I want you both to live, and this is your best chance. Do you understand that? I can't be there at camp, so she's only going to have you. You need to look after your sister, all right?"

Mason didn't want to nod; it wasn't fair! He wasn't sure how, because his Mom was making sense, but he knew that something was unfair about this, even if he couldn't say what. The thing was, his Mom was giving him that look she gave when they used to invite people over and she'd boast about how smart he was to her friends. She hadn't given him that look in a long time.

Mason nodded. "I will, Mama."

Mason knew that he was not somebody who loved very easily.

It might have been partly the result of growing up with just his Mom and his little sister, but he'd been like that for as long as he could remember. He could count on one hand how many times he'd said he cared about somebody and actually meant it. One, was his Mom. Obviously. Even if she didn't love him anymore. She'd done everything she could to keep him and his sister safe from harm. It wasn't his Mom who had failed Frankie, it was him. Two, was his little sister herself. Frankie. He'd nearly forgotten what she looked like, before he'd seen her again. He supposed he had Mari to thank for that. Like he said, he loved his little sister. Third, was Luke - Luke had been there for him when nobody else had, and in a way, was the only person who really got it. That was three people. He liked his other siblings well enough, but they would never be the same as Frankie. Not when she'd been gone for so long.

"Luke," he asked. "You said she'd be with you."

Luke shook his head, horror in his eyes. "I meant it, I really tried. I - I just turned away for a second, and she'd switched."

"Switched?" Mason's breath hitched. He didn't actually need to ask for clarification. He knew there was only one thing that switch meant. But he didn't want to be right.

"With her. Artemis. I don't know how to get her out. Artemis is refusing to take the burden back."

"Really?!" Mason brandished his axe. "How about I have a little 'talk' with my dear aunt, see how she feels about it then..."

"No!" Luke panicked. "I mean, uh, no. Mason, she's a goddess. I know how strong you are, but turning boys into Jackelopes is her speciality. She won't care that you're technically her nephew. She hates boys and she'd hate you even more, for trying to dethrone her family, remember? I can't lose the only friend I have left. Plus, Thorn is with her. That's punishment enough. Your sister needs you more right now."

Mason scowled, but Luke was right. He tried to imagine Mari, struggling to bear that burden all alone, especially with whatever injuries she must have sustained running around with Adela. And with her head wound. He still felt bad about that but it had to be done, and Mari would understand. In time.

"Go on." Luke patted Mason's shoulder. "I'll deal with Artemis. You see if your sister is okay. I'm warning you now, though, she might not be able to talk."

"What are you talking about?"

"I tried to talk to her, after she took the burden from Artemis, but she wasn't very responsive. I'm sorry. Go see for yourself." Luke turned away, but Mason pulled him into a hug.

"Thanks," he whispered. "For looking after her."

Mason felt Luke gulp against his shoulder. "You're welcome."

Luke left, and Mason sighed, walking up towards where the sky concentrated in one single point of swirling contact. It was a burden that was supposed to rest on the shoulders of Atlas, the general. Mason knew what he'd see in theory: his sister, breaking under all that weight. That knowledge didn't prepare him for actually witnessing it. At all. His sister was crouched down, as if a thousand claws were pressing on her shoulders, each one forcing her legs to bend in a very unnatural way. Mason hadn't ever seen what holding the sky looked like (he'd been chasing after Adela) but even his worst nightmares couldn't conjure up this image. Well, now they would.

She was crying. Mason didn't notice at first, but the closer he got, the more clearly he could see the silvery trails of salt collecting around her scrunched eyes and falling down her cheeks. That wasn't what made approaching her so difficult. Every step towards her, she looked more and more like Frankie, in those final few moments. His little sister had cried, too, right before she died.

"Hey, Mari. Sorry about before."

Mari tried to open her mouth, but could only wheeze, taking a huge breath in and gulping as her jaw snapped shut again. She couldn't talk, could she? Ah, crap. It must have been the pressure from the weight of the world, like Luke had said. Mason sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought.

"Alright, uh, blink three times for yes, four times for no," Mason told her. "Understand?"

Three blinks.

"Do you remember anything about someone with the name Frankie?"

Four blinks. Mason's heart sank.

"Frankie... was my little sister. My baby sister. We lived in a tiny apartment, with our Mom, and I..." Mason gulped.

"I got her killed."

Mari whimpered under the weight of the sky, her eyes watering. A part of Mason wished he could help her, but Luke would kill him if he got himself trapped like that. Besides, the second his sister was free, she'd definitely run. He wouldn't blame her - she didn't understand everything yet. But if he had to choose, he'd rather she was here, even in pain, just for a little bit, than back at camp.

"I can't tell what you're trying to say now," said Mason. "Uh, what if I go through the alphabet? You can blink yes when I get the right letter, okay?"

Three blinks.

"Alright, A-"

Three blinks again. Well, that was quick.

"A... B... C... D-"

Three blinks again.

"A... B... C... D... E-"

Three blinks. Mason tried to hide his annoyance. He should have guessed, honestly, but he'd been hoping that whatever... attachment Adela clearly felt wasn't mutual. Part of him felt bad for the poor little death-spreader, but it wasn't personal. If Adela wasn't cursed, he'd be fine with it. Actually, he'd encourage it. But things hadn't worked out that way, and his little sister couldn't die. Not again. He wouldn't allow it.

"You want to know where Adela went, right?"

Three blinks. Well, Mason would just have to nip it in the bud before it went too far. He added that to the mental list of things he owed Adela an apology for, but if he had to choose between her and his sister, he'd choose his sister every time.

"I offered her a deal. She leaves you behind, I won't try and follow her anymore. She accepted and left. I don't know where she is now."

His sister blinked four times.

Mason wished he could pretend that he'd simply miscounted the blinks, but he hadn't. She didn't believe him. Wonderful. Just perfect. Honestly, that was the last thing Mason needed. He felt like kicking someone (maybe Artemis, but Luke was right, the goddess would destroy him). Of all the people, why did it have to be Adela? The girl who could kill his sister by bumping into her, or worse, ruin his sister's trust in him by telling her about that old lady he'd killed?

"Don't you trust me?" he asked.

Three blinks.

"And Adela?"

Three blinks.

Well, that was an issue. Mason pushed the thought away. His little sister was here now, and she was coming back to the ship. Luke had promised him. He'd have the time to convince her that Adela was unsafe. It would mean he would have to stop chasing after Adela, but he'd been planning to do that anyway. He owed Adela a lot more than that, after all.

His sister whimpered again, closing her eyes. She made a few noises that sounded like a broken form of laughter, and for a second Mason was terrified that she was choking on her own blood. He was about to shout for help, when he realised she was trying to say something. It took a few attempts, a couple of chilling gurgles that sounded nothing like actual words, but eventually she got out at least part of a word.

"Lu..." Then she let out a series of hacking coughs. A tiny trail of red collected at the corner of her lips, and she gasped. Mason's gut clenched. Artemis had done this. She'd been the one who persuaded his sister to take the burden. It was just another thing the gods had to pay for. And they would. He would make sure of it.

"Hey, hey, don't. You'll get hurt, you're bleeding."

She was still trying to speak. Damn it, didn't she realise she was doing herself more harm then good? His sister really didn't have a handle on sensible decisions. A distraction, that was what he needed. There was something Mason had wanted to tell her all along, anyway. Since Luke had first revealed his plans to raise the titan lord, a month before that Jackson kid got to camp and nearly ruined everything.

"Did Chiron ever tell you anything about what happens when a demigod dies too young to be put anywhere in the underworld?" Mason asked her.

Four blinks.

Mason huffed. Of course not. He'd only told Mason as a last resort, after Mason had refused to leave cabin seven for months after Frankie died and his Mom... Mason didn't want to finish the thought. Apparently it was better to keep what Mason was about to tell his sister a secret. It was common for younger demigods to die, and knowledge that they might still be out there could cause distress for their siblings. Mason thought that Chiron had been giving him an incredibly flimsy excuse for not wanting to 'bother' the gods about where their children had ended up.

"When I got Frankie killed, she was four. She was too little." His voice broke a tiny bit. "Too little. It stops after five years, you see. If a demigod is that young, they haven't done enough for Elysium, or for the fields of punishment. But apparently Hades decided that asphodel wasn't fair, either." He couldn't really fault the god for that, much as he hated to admit it. Hades's ruling was the reason why Frankie was still... He looked at his sister, continuing, "When a kid is that young, they take them to the river Lethe. They force them to drink. And then... they're reborn. It only happens to demigods, I don't know why, and they're always reborn with the same godly parent. I got Frankie killed fifteen years ago now. When I was seven."

He didn't need to state that Mari had been alive for fifteen years. It was obvious. He'd wondered if his little sister had been reborn as Viti, for a while, but the timeline didn't quite match up. Not to mention, Viti had nothing of his sister in her. No mischievous grin, or funny twitch of her nose when she smelled something gross. And then Mari ended up at camp. And it fit. She'd had that grin during Capture the Flag. She somehow looked like Frankie, even though she didn't have the nose twitch. Mason didn't know why exactly Mari was still ten years old now, since she should be fifteen, but it just made the resemblance clearer. The same coloured hair, the same chin... No, it was, above all, the smile that convinced Mason. She smiled exactly like Frankie. Mason was sure of it. His little sister had come back.

And then something took her away. Mason didn't know what, exactly. She had been gone for five long years, and now she was back. She couldn't leave again. She was all he had left.

"Do you understand, Frankie?"

Four blinks. Immediately.

Mason's heart sank. "Come on, you must remember something." Chiron had told him that people who had been other people before would get memories, when they were around people and things from their old lives. She'd been around him, so she should have remembered something. He wasn't wrong. He couldn't be...

Frankie's eyes went wide. Mason felt a grin spread across his face. "You do remember!"

Three blinks, and Mason felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders (it only took him a second to recognise the irony of that statement). A tiny, tiny part of him had been terrified that he'd been wrong. That maybe it had been Viti, or that Frankie had been reborn as somebody who'd then died. Like Chiron had said, it wasn't uncommon. But Mason had recognised the right person!

"What do you remember?" His voice overflowed with excitement. "We can do the alphabet thing again. A... B..."

S-O-N-G-B-I...

"Little songbird?" Mason's voice was soft.

Three blinks.

"Our Mom." He told her this, and promptly ignored the four blinks she gave him in response. She was probably overwhelmed; he couldn't blame her for that. "She used to call you that. You were her little songbird. I was her little ray of light."

His sisters' eyes started watering. Mason hadn't noticed before, but something really weird was happening to her hair. A lock of it, at the front was turning white. At least, that's what it looked like. Maybe he was imagining things in the light. His sister certainly didn't notice.

"It's okay to be confused, Frankie. I cry sometimes too."

Four blinks again.

Mason frowned. "I'm guessing you don't remember anything else, huh? That's okay, there's time. I'll tell you all about... well, everything on the Princess Andromeda."

Four more blinks. More insistent.

Mason sighed. "You can't hide from this. You cant hide from who you are any more than I can hide from the fact that I got you killed. Look, I have something to help you remember, alright? Alabaster Torrington made it. Do you know who that is?"

Four blinks.

"Eh, don't worry, you'll meet him. I'm about to do something that will probably hurt a little. Sorry about that."

Four more blinks. Mason ignored them. His sister was starting to annoy him now.

Alabaster was picky, that was for sure. He only used proper paper for his oh-so-precious mist form cards. In Mason's opinion, Alabaster was nothing more than a hack. This had nothing to do with the fact that when he and Alabaster had duelled for the position of Luke's second-in-command, Alabaster had used them to create an illusion to beat him, and that was why Mason was scraping around in the dirt trying to recruit angry demigods with a penchant for befriending his little sister to the army whilst Alabaster was living large on the ship. Absolutely nothing. At all.

Still, Torrington had come through for him, in the end. Even though he'd made Mason use an old Walgreen's receipt because he didn't want to waste paper. 'It will work just the same', he had promised. Sure. It had better.

Mason glanced at his sister's teary face, and dug through his pockets. He pulled the paper out and smoothed it in his hands. The jumble of symbols that Alabaster had inked onto the back were unintelligible, but even if Mason didn't like Alabaster that much, he trusted him. Or rather, Mason trusted Alabaster to be way too arrogant to make something faulty as a prank, lest it make him look incompetent. Mason had been keeping it on his person for months, on the off chance that Frankie left camp. Just in case he ran in to her. And now, it was paying off.

Frankie blinked four times again. Mason understood exactly why she was being difficult, and couldn't blame her. Holding that burden could not be easy.

As gently as he could, he pressed the paper to her forehead.

Frankie's eyes didn't water at that point. Instead, they called forth a torrent of rain, racing down her cheeks into the mud below. She didn't make a peep, though. A part of Mason wondered if she even had the energy for that. He snatched the receipt and tossed it to the floor. The symbols had disappeared; it was worthless now. Mason caught a flash of them on his sister's forehead, as if they were a tattoo, before they seemingly evaporated into thin air. Good. That was how Alabaster had said the magic would work.

"Mason! Times up, we need you on the ship! Lou Ellen got into a fight with Alabaster again!" Luke's voice came from the top of the hill.

Mason gritted his teeth. For a new recruit, Lou Ellen was awfully antagonistic towards everybody. Mason wondered if telling Adela about Lou Ellen would convince the cursed girl to join them, but then he remembered that he was planning to tell Luke that Adela was a lost cause, so it didn't matter anyway. Still, Lou Ellen Blackstone managed to be a real pain, even when he'd barely met her. Mason had better things to do than calm the kid down.

"Get Alabaster to handle it. She's his sister, how hard can it be?!" Mason called back.

"Alabaster started the fight!"

Mason nearly growled. Of course he did.

"I'll be right back, okay?" he said to Frankie. He hated to leave her, especially since she clearly wasn't taking it well, straining against the weight and whimpering again. But somebody had to pick up the slack for Alabasters' inability to ever have any level of chill. Maybe Luke would kick Alabaster to the curb and give Mason a promotion. That would have been nice, if they were paid at all.

"Seriously, Luke?" Mason asked as he got closer.

"I'm sorry, man, but my hands are tied," Luke told him. "I need to get the younger kids as far away on that boat as possible, and I can't do that if one of them has locked herself in the control room and refused to come out until Alabaster apologises. Kelli is encouraging it and I need you to get the kids to safety."

Mason frowned. "But that means I won't be..."

"Here. Yeah, I know."

Mason shook his head. "You know why I can't just leave her here."

Luke put both of his hands on Mason's shoulders, a solemn expression on his face. "Mason. Do you really think I'm going to let anything happen to your sister? I know what she means to you. I'll get her out from under the sky and we'll meet you guys at the San Francisco pier. I'll get her on that ship."

Mason gulped. He got what Luke was saying, he did, but...

"Come on, you want her to have somewhere safe to live while all this is happening, right?"

Mason nodded. "Fine. I'll make sure the ship is safely away, but as soon as Thalia Grace agrees to slay the Ophiotaurus, you are telling me and I am turning the ship around and coming right back to get my sister. Enough of the 'pier' nonsense. We have no way of knowing how things are going to go. Deal?"

Luke nodded. "Deal."

Mason sighed. "I guess if I can't be there to look out for her like my Mom wanted, I'm glad you will."

Luke nodded, looking away for some reason. "You, should, um, go. It's probably not a good idea to leave that can of worms open for too long."

Mason sighed. Luke was right. "Okay. I'll go. Tell her goodbye from me, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." Luke nodded. "Mason," he added. Mason pretended not to hear him as he was leaving, but kept an ear open anyway. "You know it's not your fault, right?"

YEARS EARLIER

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

"You weren't even there, Oak!" Mason snarled. Thistle was. Stupid, careless Thistle who'd promised he'd take care of both of them and had obviously been lying.

Oak bleated nervously, and Mason felt guilty for a second. This visit was a test, of sorts, for the Satyr, before he went out and tried to find demigods for real. He was very, very inexperienced, and he wasn't the one who deserved to be yelled at. Mason was.

"Sorry." Mason gave a half-hearted attempt at an apology. It seemed to be enough for Oak, who patted his shoulder and trotted up the hallway to his Mom's apartment door.

"If it helps, Thistle is on probation. He's getting old, see, and doesn't really know what he's doing. He probably won't be allowed back out after this-"

"Wait outside, okay?" Mason interrupted, clutching the bundle to his chest. "I need to do this on my own."

Oak nodded, looking like a kicked kid, and retreated to the spot next to the door. "I can... if you want..." he gestured to the bundle in his arms.

"Give her to me!" Mason snarled. He didn't feel bad this time. Oak handed the bundle over, pity in his eyes. Mason hated it. Mason hated the way Oak seemed to think he was some kind of broken doll, and he hated the way his shaking hands seemed to confirm Oak's assumptions. But Oak was wrong. So wrong. Mason wasn't the one who deserved pity, he'd stood there and let it happen. He'd let his sister die. She'd screamed for him, and he'd let her... His Mom deserved pity. Frankie deserved pity. Apollo deserved a shallow grave.

Mason knocked on the apartment door.

His Mom looked well-rested as she opened it, for the first time in a while. She'd always had dark circles before. "Masey!" She beamed at him, and Mason wanted to cry because that was Frankie's favourite thing to call him. "What are you doing back so early, sweetheart? Is everything alright?"

Oak must have been good at hiding, because she didn't notice him concealed in the hallway. She shut the door behind Mason, locking it out of habit and sat down on their tiny couch, shoving a few papers out of the way. "I was applying for some jobs, so that we can move somewhere bigger when you both get back. You're growing up, after all." She booped his nose. Mason gulped down a hiccup, his chin wobbling.

"Hey!" His Mom smoothed back his hair, frowning. "What's wrong, little light ray? Is camp too scary? Are you having trouble making friends? Did you miss me? What's going on? Where's your sister?"

Mason couldn't hold it back anymore. He let out a sob, tears beginning as a trickling stream and then becoming a flood. He felt like he was drowning, but if he was then it was a flood he had created, and it wasn't saltwater. It was Frankie's blood.

"Mama!" he wailed, his muscles trembling. His Mom pulled him into a hug, making little shushing sounds. It reminded him of when he was small, before Frankie came into the picture, when he didn't have to worry about anything. His Mom hadn't hugged him like this in a long time, which almost made him weep more, because he didn't deserve this. "Masey, come on. You're scaring me, what's wrong? Is it the training?"

Mason shook his head.

"Is it Frankie?"

Mason was silent. His Mama's arms froze around him in response. Mason felt her heartbeat increase in his ear.

"I- I- It's my fault!" Mason wailed.

"She- there were hellhounds, and I didn't-" Mason gasped through his tears, the action making a horrible, snotty noise in the back of his throat, like the words were hiding there. "I didn't do anything! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mama!"

His Mom was silent for a few minutes, and Mason wondered if she was having a heart attack, but no, she wasn't because he was resting his head against her heart. It was still a steady, warm tha-rump sound, if a little sped up.

"Mason," she finally asked, her voice small. "What happened to Frankie?"

Mason gulped and shook his head against her shoulder. He was a coward, and he knew it but he needed her comfort. Just a little while longer, before she realised what had happened, what he'd done and she stopped loving him anymore. A small part of Mason acknowledged that if she knew, that would also make it all real, and he didn't want it to be real...

"What happened?!" His Mom snapped him out of his thoughts. Startled, Mason robotically pulled the bundle from under his arm. It was wrapped in a miniature golden shroud, looking almost like a present. Mason knew for a fact (because he'd been the one to wrap it) that it was also encased in a layer of plastic, but that didn't stop a flush of red from staining one side of the shiny fabric, like a grotesque painting.

His mother took the golden bundle from him, opened it and screamed.

Frankie hadn't ever stood a chance. Not really. He wasn't good enough to protect her like his Mom had asked, and the hellhounds were vicious. It was probably because her light powers smelled so good to them. Mason didn't care. He hadn't done a thing to stop Thistle as the Satyr drove away, leaving his little sister screaming out for him in agony. He'd been frozen in fear. He hadn't been able to stop looking as the things tore into his sister's flesh, her eyes full of betrayal and fear as they bored into his. Eventually, the hellhounds ripped her head off and they probably ate her eyeballs, too. Mason had just stared. Something must have been wrong with him.

They'd sent out Thistle later, as punishment, to retrieve what was left. He didn't find anything, so another Satyr, this one an experienced tracker named Clove Forester, had searched instead. And he'd found something. Barely enough to identify who it had once belonged to, if not for a single, horrifying detail - Mason's little sister had a dark red, very distinctive birthmark on her right hand. She'd always said it was shaped like a pineapple, even thought she couldn't pronounce pineapple right and ended up saying 'papple'.

"No, no, no..." Mason's Mom let go of him, clutching the severed hand (all that was left of Frankie now) to her chest and wailing. His Mom sounded so like Frankie had, as if she were the one being ripped apart, and it almost sent Mason back there. Mason flinched, covering his ears.

"M' sorry Mama, I'm sorry..." he hiccuped. "I'm sorry..."

Mason didn't know how long he sat there. His Mom didn't look at him, didn't make a move to comfort him. Didn't do anything. Mason pushed down the instinct to wail along with his mother, reminding himself that it was his fault Frankie was dead. He didn't deserve comfort. Still, a selfish part of him sought it out anyway.

"Mama..." he weakly reached out a shaking arm. She jerked away from him, stumbling up from the sofa and clutching the severed hand to her chest the same way she'd spent many-a-night walking back and forth, with a wailing Frankie in her arms.

"Go."

"Please," Mason whispered, flinching back.

"Go!" She stumbled around, still curling her arms around the hand. "I- I can't, Mason, I can't look at you right now. I just can't, so go! Get out, please!"

Mason couldn't stop himself from crying now. Warm, wobbly tears dribbled down his cheeks as he stood up on shaky legs.

"I'm going," Mason murmured. He hadn't realised before, but he'd always felt some kind of warmth in his chest, something reliable that was always there to comfort him. Like a cosy blanket or a big hug. That was gone now. All gone. Along with Frankie. Along with his Mom, who clearly didn't want anything to do with him anymore. Not that he could blame her - she'd only asked one thing of him, one little thing. Protect his sister. He was supposed to have been able to do this. She wouldn't have asked if it was something he couldn't do! And he'd failed in every possible way. No wonder she hated him. He hated himself too.

This was all his fault.

AN: Oak will not and does not have anything to do with this, I just missed him so I decided to give the poor guy a little cameo, lol.