"I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Will stuffed a tub of sixteen mini nectar bottles into Mari's yellow backpack. Ambrosia was amazing and all, but for some reason she had always preferred the liquid version. He was helping her pack, since last time Drew had basically done it for her so she didn't have any experience herself. Will had even less, but Mari was willing to admit that he had a lot more common sense. Case in point, three hours ago when she'd tried to sneak a pack of Jaffa Cakes into the front pocket of the backpack and he'd confiscated them (apparently non-perishables only was standard questing fare). At this point, Will was essentially packing her backpack for her.

"I mean, it's the labyrinth, Mari! The labyrinth!"

"I'm sorry." Mari nodded from her perch on the open window sill where she was letting the sun soak into her skin - she probably wasn't going to see it for a while. "I didn't exactly tell anyone. I wasn't-"

"Allowed to, I know." Will sighed. "I just wish you'd told me. You told Annabeth."

They were in cabin seven, where Lee had left Mari with a hug before leaving to blow off some steam at the lava climbing wall. It must have been bad if he was willingly going near that thing. Lee usually spearheaded the whole 'avoid the flaming rock wall of evil like the plague' movement. Will had been there already, reading something. He'd been... well, he'd been nothing short of horrified when Mari explained what had happened at the meeting, and what she'd known, but he'd instantly agreed to help her, so that was something.

"Chiron told Annabeth. And anyway, she figured it out. Will..." Mari said. "Are you... mad at me?"

"I don't know." Will folded a couple of orange shirts. "Not really. I think I'm more worried."

"Do you think that Naomi is going to be mad at me?" Mari asked. She wondered if she was crossing a line - Naomi had been nothing but kind, but she was not Mari's mother. Mari didn't have a mother, and she needed to remember that.

"No," Will said almost instantly. "But you should definitely tell her, because if you don't then she'll be mad."

"What did the prophecy say, again?" Will asked.

Mari pulled out the page she'd ripped from the back of her sketchbook. The first thing she'd done after leaving the sword-fighting arena (other than shrieking into her pillow so that nobody could hear) was scrawl the prophecy Annabeth had recited onto the paper, in messy penmanship. Mari read out,

"You will delve in the darkness of the endless maze,
The dead, the traitor and the lost one raise,
One shall break from what lies ahead,
To bury what's already dead.
You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand,
The child of Athena's final stand.
Dot dot dot... Destroy with a hero's final breath."

"What do you mean, 'dot dot dot'?" Will asked. "You didn't write down the whole prophecy?"

"Annabeth didn't remember the whole prophecy," Mari told him.

It was times like this when she really, really wished her father hadn't stolen the power of prophecy from her when she was just a baby. She hadn't even been given a chance to use it. She would have been good, she would have been responsible. She would have never misused it, even if she wanted to. Maybe, if she still had it, then she wouldn't have to rely on Annabeth. She could find out what the prophecy said all on her own. Or maybe she'd be just as in the dark as she was now. Mari didn't even know how this kind of thing worked, she'd been too young. And she probably never would. Her Dad had seen to that.

"She didn't remember?" Will was incredulous. "You could all end up... it's a dangerous quest and she didn't remember? She's Annabeth!"

"Look, this is everything I know, Will. I don't have anything else to go on, so I have to try and work with this." Mari glanced at the two packages Will was holding and made a face. "Ew, no. If the choice is dried Bananas or dried Cherries I choose death."

"Noted." Will plucked up a packet of dried strawberries, waving it in her face for good measure. "So, who's this 'ghost king'? Is he a friendly ghost king?"

"Gods, I hope so." Mari folded up the paper and tossed it to Will, who caught it with his free hand and put it in the front pouch of her backpack. It was a lie - there was a high chance this 'ghost king' was the brother of the hunter girl who died. The son of Hades who probably hated Percy's guts. Mari felt bad lying to Will, especially since he wasn't the type to throw anybody under the bus, but she had promised Percy she wouldn't tell anybody about Nico. She just hoped the kid was willing to listen to reason. "I don't particularly feel like 'falling by his hand', whatever that means. It doesn't sound good."

"Yeah, no kidding." Will frowned. "You should call Mom. If she has to hear about this from me I think she might get sick with worry."

Mari nodded. Will zipped up the bag and handed it to her. "I'm going to go check on the others, see how much they know. Lee's probably told them everything, but still. None of the others will mind."

Mari nodded. Will hugged her, then left and Mari sighed. There was a stack of drachmas on a shelf across the other side of the room. Mari hopped off her window-perch, grabbed a few and made a rainbow by lighting up her hands and pouring out a jug of water.

As it turned out, telling Naomi about the quest wasn't that hard.

Everything else was.

"You're sure you have everything you need?" Naomi asked her. When Naomi had answered the Iris Message, she'd been about to go meet a radio show host to talk about her new album. Mari had offered to IM her at a later time, but Naomi had waved her off with an explanation that the host was a fairly relaxed person, who'd be placated with a text about a 'family emergency'. Mari knew that the 'family' part was probably an excuse, but it still made her feel happy in a way she hadn't expected. Naomi eyed Mari's backpack, like she was itching to check it over for herself. "Drachmas, food, your sword? I know you don't think you're a good shot but you should still take a bow just in case. I've seen you practising in the backyard. You're nothing to laugh at, honey."

"Yeah, I have all that. Will helped me pack."

"Good." Naomi nodded. "I know you can't Iris-message people in the labyrinth, but if you get outta there, and you have a moment, give me a call, alright? It'll help me sleep easy. You remember what I told you at the airport?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Still stands," Naomi said. "You're getting off that plane once summer's over. That ain't up for discussion."

Mari wondered, not for the first time, why Naomi was so kind to her. Or so kind in general, because maybe it wasn't personal. Not many adults had ever been that kind to her. It made her feel warm inside, like she'd just had a hot drink in the middle of winter back in England. Mari didn't want to lose that kindness, but the issue was, she probably would. She'd end up doing something to mess things up and everything would all go away, she just knew it. Or she'd die on the quest and never see Naomi again. That was what was hard about this - kindness wasn't permanent for her. It never had been.

"Mari?" Naomi asked. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah!" Mari plastered on a smile. "Fine. I'm totally fine."

"It's okay to be scared," Naomi told her. "It's okay to feel numb, too. Anything you feel right now is okay."

Mari had felt scared before in her life. She'd spent five years alternating between horror and terror. Then she'd spent the next eleven months alternating between, horror, terror, confusion and a little bit of happiness. Now... now she just didn't know what she felt, or what she was supposed to feel.

"I dunno," Mari whispered. "I don't want to go on this stupid quest."

"I don't want you to go, either. Do you have a choice?"

"Not really."

Naomi was quiet for a second. Then she sighed. "I wish I could hug you right now, honey. I really do."

"I... um. I wish I could hug you, too," Mari told her. She talked with Naomi for a little while longer before Naomi really had to go, since the radio-show was going to be over in two hours and she'd promised to make an appearance. Naomi was an anonymous music producer but she still made public appearances; she just used a fake name and voice distortion software during interviews. Everyone at camp knew who she was, but last time somebody had tried to blab, it apparently hadn't ended well. Will had made sure of that. The thing people didn't realise about Will was that he was a battle medic in training - part of that involved studying every antidote known to man which also meant he knew every poison that those antidotes treated. Suffice to say, Holly Bushell from the Demeter cabin hadn't tried it again after spending three weeks puking her guts out in the camp toilets.

"I'm gonna stay at home as much as possible till this over, okay, honey?" Naomi told her. "I can record in my basement studio. If you need me, IM me. I don't care 'bout time differences and I don't care about bein' around people. I convince them they're seeing things, say someone spiked their food with hallucinogenics or somethin'."

Mari smiled. "That I'd love to see with my own eyes."

"Come back safe, and you will." Naomi told her.

Dinner that night was a tense one, which was quickly becoming the norm at camp. Everyone was staring at Annabeth, probably because by now word about her breaking the rules and planning a quest with five people had spread around the whole camp. After what had happened last time five questers went out, nobody felt good about the odds for all of them having a safe return. The food was Mari's favourite, Kolokithokeftedes, and there was even a vegan version. It was made using diluted ambrosia, so the fake cheese tasted just like normal cheese. It was a shame that Mari felt too sick to stomach it.

Chiron was unusually grim during the very brief announcements. Cabin seven was excluded from watch duty over Thalia's tree after the Drakon incident, but they were included in a new rota, which took precedence over everything: guarding the entrance to the labyrinth, and raising the alarm if Luke's forces began an attack.

Mari went to bed that night with a barbed-wire ball of anxiety in her stomach. Her dreams picked up where they'd left off.

Frankie screamed. A loud, guttural scream that had absolutely no business coming from a child so young. Not that four-year old Francesca Heather Ray knew that. A beam of light shot out from her hands, nailing one of the hellhounds chasing them right in the eyes. It howled, crashing away from the car in pain. Frankie curled up into her brother, whimpering. She hadn't meant to do that but she was very glad she had.

"Shit, there are eleven of them! Eleven!" Thistle hissed. "Mason, shut the damn windows. We can't let them get into the car."

"I told you not to swear in front of my little sister, asshole!" Mason hit the button on the car door and the windows rolled up. "Wha's an ass'ole?" Frankie asked.

Mason froze. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Don't ever repeat it."

Another hellhound snapped its jaws at the car window, paws crashing against the door and leaving huge dents, as if the car was being scrapped with them all inside. Mason shielded Frankie with his body as the window he'd just closed shattered over his back.

"You otay?" Frankie asked.

"None of us are going to be okay if we can't get ahead of those things," Thistle said. "We can't hope to keep them out of the car with the window gone. It won't work."

Thistle was right. The hellhounds were still screeching and growling outside, and they were only getting more aggressive. Frankie tried to hide behind the still shaking form of her older brother. The cold whipped at her hair, tossing it around her face. Thistle gave up any pretence of obeying speeding laws and pushed full on the gas, but it still wasn't enough. The car was going at top speed but the hellhounds weren't dropping back.

"I-It's okay." Mason whispered. "I'll protect you. I promised Mom I woul-"

Frankie screeched, as a growl sounded right next to her ear.

The window.

They'd all been so worried about the smashed window on Mason's side, that they'd completely forgotten to close the one on hers. Frankie shrieked in pain as the wet, hot jaws of a hellhound closed over her arm. The thing's tongue was brushing against the small baby hair of her flesh, which would have tickled if her elbow didn't feel like it was being put through a malfunctioning meat grinder.

"Frankie!" Mason grabbed her free hand, and with his other arm picked up his backpack and slammed it onto the monster's head. "Stay away from my little sister you misshapen excuse for a dog!" her brother shouted. This just made the thing angrier. It yanked Frankie away, towards the window. She felt another set of jaws clamping down on her hair and yanking. Frankie gasped. If it had been two inches closer, it would have bitten through her skull...

"Masey!" she shrieked. "Help me!"

Mason's hands locked around her waist. "I've got you." His face was pale, expression frantic. "I've got you, I swear. You'll be oka-"

The first hellhound yanked again. Frankie screamed.

Her head and shoulders were out of the window now. The top of the car looked shiny in the afternoon sun. Inside the car, she felt Mason's grip switch to her ankles. Frankie couldn't see him anymore but she could still hear him. He sounded like he was crying. "N-no!" His voice begged. "Give her back. Give her back, please, take me instead. Please, I can't-"

A hellhound latched onto her other arm. It felt like someone had taken a cheese grater and run it along her skin, using her flesh as some kind of garnish...

Mason's hands on her ankles slipped. Frankie caught a glimpse of him again. His face was streaked with tears and his arms still reached out for her in a panic, but he was held back. His hands were shaking as he thrashed against Thistle, who had an arm tight around Mason's waist, pulling him away from the car window.

Then, Frankie was falling. She heard a crash against the car door, and a click, like someone was trying to open the door from inside. It didn't open, and another, harsher click followed. It was a sound Frankie knew. Mommy always made sure to lock the door when they were driving.

Frankie's chin hit the cement of the road, and she felt her skin break. Then she was being dragged. A little trail of blood appeared on the road, and Frankie felt her bone scraping. It was worse than her arm, worse than any pain she'd ever felt. Usually when she got hurt, her Mom was there to comfort her, and tell Mason to get her a plaster. Where was Mason now?

"FRANKIE!" Mason was leaning out of the window, screaming. "Frankie, run! You have to run!"

"Help me! Help me, Masey, pwease!" Frankie screeched.

"I'm sorry!" A different voice, Thistle's voice, called out. "Kid, I'm so sorry!"

Was she going to die now? She didn't want to go like this. She wanted to see her Mommy again. She wanted to meet her Daddy-

Wait, her daddy! Her Mommy had told her his name a few times now, and Frankie could remember it!

"Powwo! Apowwo!" she begged. "Help me! Pwease!"

Nothing happened.

Mason's sobbing got louder. Frankie wished she couldn't hear it. She wished-

She wished she was a mortal.

"Masey!" Frankie screamed. "Masey! I-"

A hellhound's jaw crunched down on her vocal chords. Her voice turned to a garbled gurgle, and she felt she was about to choke on her own tongue. No, no, this wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! She'd wanted to tell the hellhounds to go away, tell them that that eating people was wrong, that only the evil monsters in the books Mommy read her ate people. More than that, she wanted to tell Mason she loved him.

"Frankie! Frankie, please, you have to run! Please!" Mason's voice was barely there anymore. Frankie followed its direction. She didn't remember having closed her eyes, but now she opened them. The sight made her sob. The car was too far away for her to catch up now, even if she managed to get away from the monsters. Mason's teary face stared at her from the broken window.

Then, the biggest hellhound Frankie had ever seen leapt in front of her, blocking Mason from view. Frankie could still hear him, though. "Get away from her! Leave her alone!"

His pleas did no good.

Frankie stared up at the beast, trembling. Dogs were supposed to be cute, not like this. Their neighbour used to have a dog called it Hopper. That was before Mommy stopped inviting all the neighbours over. Hopper had loved her, and she'd loved him. These dogs were nothing like Hopper. They were big, mean and scary, and Frankie wanted to go home.

The hellhound's jaws were coming towards her face. Everything went dark. Frankie felt the teeth digging into her earlobes. Then, it pulled.

One last time, Frankie screamed.

Mari screamed.

She shot up from her bed, sob-shrieks tearing from her throat before she could stop them. Her chest was heaving and her body was shaking. Gods, no. She always hated this part. Every time she had one of these dreams, she continued to feel phantom sensations once she woke up. They didn't last long, just a few minutes, but those minutes were unbearable. Teeth that weren't there ghosted over her skin and Mari shuddered. This was worse than the snakes. She hadn't thought anything could be worse than the snakes but she'd obviously been wrong.

"...ri? Mari!" Will, that was Will. He was sitting next to her, hands on her shoulders. There were other people around her, too. Lee was on her other side, and Michael was in front of her, with Kayla and Austin on either side of him. Sean was standing at the foot of her bed, wringing his hands.

"Did you have a demigod dream?" Lee asked. "Was it about the quest?"

Mari shook her head. Lee looked confused, and was clearly about to ask her more, when the unthinkable happened.

Mari opened her mouth to tell them she was fine, and make sure the rest of her siblings didn't fuss too much. Then she promptly vomited all over Michael's arrow-printed pyjamas.

She hadn't eaten much so it was mostly bile, but the thing about bile was that it smelled awful. Like the sewage department of a chemical development plant. Will and Lee tactfully got off her bed, making a face at the stench. Michael, well, the thing about Michael was that he absolutely abhorred dirt. Of any kind. If he thought something had germs he'd stand there smugly while he made the rest of them clean to his impossible standards, and gods help them all if they missed a spot. He froze, staring down at his ruined pyjamas and then looked back at her, eyes narrowed.

"I- sorry." Mari wheezed. "Didn't mean..." Another spasm of pain went through her, and she nearly threw up again.

"It's alright, parasite," Michael sighed, as if saying that took a lot of effort. "No harm, no foul."

"It smells foul," Sean muttered. Austin elbowed him.

"Here, drink." Will handed Mari a glass of water. Mari downed half of it like a shot glass and poured the other half over her face, which probably wasn't the best idea but her mouth tasted like vomit and her sweat felt sticky, like blood. Mari shuddered. She pressed a shaky hand to her forehead. Sharp, staticky tingles went down her neck like an electric shock. She wrenched her hand away but that just made it worse.

"You want anything else?"

Lee took the glass from her clenched fists, probably so she wouldn't accidentally shatter it. Mari only had one clear thought of what she wanted at that moment. Naomi. She wanted Naomi to hug her and she had no idea why, because she'd never really sought comfort from an adult before. She wasn't going to say that out loud, either, not with Will sitting right there.

"I'm just... going to go back to sleep, please," Mari whispered.

"I can get Casper to help you if you want," Michael offered.

Mari nodded without thinking. Casper was Michael's boyfriend, a son of Hypnos and a champion napper. None of them were really sure how Michael and Casper had got together between all the snoozing, but somehow they'd managed. It wasn't out of the ordinary to see Casper unconscious with a portable pillow propped against the shed at the archery range while Michael practised. He also ran a side-business out of cabin eleven, where he gave campers dreams about whatever they wanted for the very reasonable fee of twenty drachma and doing his chores for a week. Surprisingly, he actually had business, but he did it for Michael free-of-charge. He called it 'the boyfriend discount'.

"Mikey? What'cha doin'?" Casper's sleepy voice drifted through the room. "Was it the clown with the pickaxe again?"

Sean shuddered.

"No, it's actually Mari. And don't call me Mikey in front of them, Cas!" Michael's face went beet red. Austin made kissy faces into his hand and Kayla stepped in front of him before Michael could see.

"Sure, sure," Casper agreed. "Hey, Mari, do you want to lead a rock concert? Or a pyramid scheme? I mean, I don't actually approve but I'm not gonna judge if you do. I can give you a dream where you're floating on top of a fluffy cloud above a scenic waterfall, too, if you want. That one's pretty popular."

Mari looked out of the window, sniffling. She'd thought about this before. "I have two hours and thirty-nine minutes before the sun comes up. You can send me anywhere?"

"Yes." Casper nodded. "But I need a date and locatio-"

"March 30th. Speak Now World Tour. It was in the O2 arena in London and I could have got the train but I never got to go because I couldn't afford tickets. I want to be in the centre of the floor seats and I want to see and hear everything perfectly. Can you do that?"

"Uh... sure? Taylor Swift it is then," Casper nodded. "I'd advise you to get comfy, or you'll fall on your face."

"Her sheets have vomit on them," Will protested.

"You good without a blanket?" Lee asked. Mari nodded and he tore it off, setting it on a pile at the foot of her bed. Mari lay down and closed her eyes, fidgeting a bit. When was this supposed to work, anywa...?

Lee insisted on bringing Mari to Zeus's Fist to meet the others just after dawn. She trailed behind him, donned in the standard orange camp shirt and a pair of leggings (who the fuck thought wearing jeans on a quest was a good idea? Mari had never worn a more uncomfortable item of clothing in her life), and a backpack slung over her shoulder.

She kept thinking about the dream from the night before. Mason hadn't ever told her how Frankie died. Just that he got her killed. But he hadn't killed her, the hellhounds had. Mari didn't know how he got that so confused. She must have slept through the rest of the pain, thanks to Casper, because she woke up with her limbs feeling numb and tingly. That went away after a couple of minutes of stumbling around the cabin, dressing. She'd said goodbye to the rest of her siblings and left with Lee shortly after. Mari frowned. She'd thought Mason cared about her, at least a little. But if he cared, why would he give her something that caused her so much pain? Why would he make her relive dying while trapped in someone else's body?

Maybe he didn't know it would hurt.

Yeah, that would make sense. If he didn't know how his friend's magic worked, then maybe he'd thought it would be completely harmless. Maybe he just wanted her to experience the 'happy' memories. The games of hide and seek, the family dinners. The birthdays. She'd dreamt of all four of the birthdays. Mari shuddered. She still didn't want the dreams, any of them. She didn't want to be Frankie, she didn't want to experience life as someone else, it was disorientating and horrifying. Mason hadn't let her choose, but maybe he hadn't known just how much of a choice he was taking away from her. Maybe he still cared, even a little bit...

Just before the familiar pile of rocks came into view, Lee pulled her to a stop and turned around, twisting his wrists in agitation.

"Mari," he said. "Please be careful. I don't want to lose you, and neither do the others. No matter what how many times Michael might tell you otherwise."

Mari pushed down a laugh. "Is it true he nearly had an existential crisis while I was in the infirmary?"

"Something like that." Lee smiled. "But I think it had to something to do with the actual Drakon that attacked our borders, too, so don't go getting a big head about it. Let's try and keep up the streak of survival, though, alright? That part was great."

"I'll do my best," Mari told him. "Burning to death sounds bloody awful, but you have to admit, fried Calamari would have made an awesome pun."

"Nah." Lee shook his head. "It would've been charred Leeks."

"Don't even joke," Mari told him.

"Don't you joke either, then. And don't die."

Mari threw her arms around him. She felt a little like sobbing but she managed to keep it together. Lee patted her shoulder, and Mari felt him shake a little.

"You remember when you first came to camp?" Lee asked. "Because I do."

"I was crying." Mari nodded. "Oak had just died."

"Yeah, back when we were still the same age." Lee sighed. "I miss being your age. I'm the oldest in our cabin now, and I know you're technically sixteen but it's not the same. I miss you. I'm so, so happy you got off that gods forsaken island but I still miss you. Is that weird? I don't know if it's weird or not but I don't want you to die, okay? I really don't want you to die, so please be careful."

"You be careful too, okay?" Mari asked. "Luke's army could attack camp any time while I'm gone and I don't want to come back just have to light up a pyre for one of you guys."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Worry about yourself."

Lee pulled away from the hug, sighing. "You're going to be late and I need to get the rest of the horde up for breakfast. And get rid of your puke blanket, bleh." Lee made a face.

"Sucks to be you," Mari told him. "Hey, want to trade places?"

"Absolutely not." Lee shook his head. "I'd die. Not all of us have nifty labyrinth navigation powers."

"You can have those too." Mari pouted. "I never wanted 'em."

Lee shook his head and ruffled her hair, which Drew had put in a plait that morning. "I'll see you when you get back safe, okay? That last part isn't negotiable."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture." Mari gave Lee a thumbs up. He chuckled, before giving her one last quick hug goodbye and setting off back the way he came, towards the centre of camp. He'd be waking the rest of her siblings up soon, and they'd be spending the day practising archery and canoe racing together in the summer sun. Mari sighed. A really big part of her wanted to tell the labyrinth to fuck right off and run after Lee. Instead, she turned around and made the rest of the trek to Zeus's Fist on her own.

Zeus's Fist looked different. There were a few tents littered around, probably to house the campers carrying out Chiron's newly established guard duty. The Hephaestus kids were there, setting up some kind of trap, something metallic-looking with a metric-ton of spikes. Percy was sitting on one of the rocks, waiting. Behind him, Tyson was talking animatedly to Grover, but the poor satyr looked as if he was scared out of his damn mind. Percy looked like he'd been through it, which was a little premature but Mari supposed she understood. Mari leaned against the rock next to him, and was about to ask about the bags under his eyes when Annabeth arrived, beating her to it.

"Percy, you look terrible," Annabeth told him.

Before Percy could answer, Chiron galloped over. "Well," He smiled, but there was an emptiness to it, like he was putting on a brave face. "It appears you are ready!"

Percy pulled Chiron aside for some kind of favour, Mari wasn't paying attention, still lost in her thoughts about the nightmare she'd had. She wished she could call it a nightmare but for one very little, very dead girl, it had been real.

"Come on." Annabeth grabbed Mari's wrist, her nose scrunched up in agitation. "I'm not waiting for them any longer."

"Percy!" Annabeth walked over, dragging Mari behind her. "You ready?"

Percy nodded.

"Take care," Chiron said. "And good hunting."

"You too," Percy told him.

They walked over to the entrance to the labyrinth, between the rocks of Zeus's Fist, where Grover and Tyson were already waiting. Annabeth and Percy went in first, then Mari and Grover, with Tyson bringing up the rear.

"Well." Grover released a couple of nervous bleats. "Goodbye sunshine."

"I hear you there, buddy." Mari patted him on the back. The rocks creaked, like the labyrinth was angry that she had the sheer audacity to enter it again while not being dead, and even bring friends. Yeah, fuck you too, she thought. I didn't miss you one bit.

The entrance closed up, and they were alone in the dark.

Thistle

Thistle whistled to himself as the taxi stopped, the driver grinning at him from the front seat. "Will that be all, sir?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Thistle paid the driver and set off for the location Adela had given him. He'd been a little confused when the kid told him to meet her behind the dumpsters at a failing Spanish restaurant (he'd looked on Yelp, and those reviews were bad), but he trusted that kid. When he'd first met her and taken her to camp, she'd been so little. Most of the kids he dealt with were, so he had a kind of attachment. He'd been heartbroken when she disappeared. But if she was really alive out there, then maybe he could persuade her to come back to camp. He knew it. He just needed to figure out why she was so hung up about it.

Thistle frowned at the text he'd been sent. The first, from an anonymous number, sent him the address details. The second was from a different number, and had been sent barely twenty minutes before. He'd been having a wonderful time playing a song for a family of squirrels with his reed pipes, and he had to cut that short.

Change of plans. Meet now at the address.

Thistle shrugged. If that kid needed him, then she needed him. He'd make sure to go spend time with those squirrels later; they really were adorable.

"Adela?"

Thistle trotted into the back alley, frowning. "Kid? Are you there?"

"Hello, Thistle."

Thistle froze. That didn't sound like Adela, but it did sound familiar. And angry, very, very angry. Whoever that voice belonged to, it sounded like they hated him.

"Who's there?"

Thistle put a hand on his sword and turned towards the the voice.

Mason Ray stepped out of the shadows, and Thistle's heart sank. Mason and his little sister were a part of Thistle's life that still gave him nightmares. He'd made a tough decision that he'd wished he didn't have to, but it had been better for one person to die than for all of them. Though, if he'd known that Mason would go on to join Kronos and nearly kill the reincarnation of Frankie Ray, a sweet little girl who'd already suffered enough, then he might have chosen differently.

"Mason."

Thistle sighed.

"I'm assuming that the second text was from you?"

"Both, actually." Mason sneered. "Adela hasn't gotten hold of a phone since she lost hers last winter. But when she tries to iris-message you and sees your dead body, I think she'll get a pretty clear picture of what I think about her interfering with my plans."

"Mason, please," Thistle said. "You don't need to do this to me, and you don't need to do this to yourself. Frankie's death was-"

"Don't talk about my little sister as if she's dead!" Mason roared. "She's alive, and I'm going to get her back!"

"Do not make me hurt you," Thistle warned. "I do regret what happened to your sister, Mason, but you have to let that poor girl rest. You have to. Or you'll take yourself down with her."

"All this time." Mason laughed. "And you still don't know a single thing. Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you."

Mason charged.

Thistle dodged out of the way of the huge axe, and went on the attack. He swiped his sword at Mason's ankles, hooves clacking against the stone as he went. The fight was even - Thistle had been helping demigods for a long time, but Mason was an excellent fighter, and that was before he'd spent the last two years training with Luke Castellan on The Princess Andromeda. But it was more than that - Thistle was fighting to hurt Mason, just enough to subdue him. Mason Ray was fighting to kill. That meant that whilst Thistle had to be careful, Mason had no such disadvantage.

Thistle blinked, and before he knew it, Mason had buried his axe in his hip. Mason huffed, pulling the axe out and stepping back. Thistle gasped, stumbling and slipping to the floor, his hands pressing into the wound. Mason gave him a feral grin. "How does that feel, Thistle? Not good? Do you think it feels anything like the pain my sister must have felt?"

Thistle opened his mouth, releasing a series of strained bleats. He hadn't done that in years. Satyrs bleated more when they were young, before they started acting less like goats and more like humans. But, in times of great distress or pain, their core animal instincts always came back. From the way Mason lit up with pure joy, he knew that, too.

Mason crouched down, and yanked Thistle's hands away from the wound, tying them to an exposed pipe in the wall. "Let's not stop the bleeding. That would entirely defeat the point."

"Aren't - you going to... kill me?" Thistle panted.

"I already have." Mason dug around in Thistle's pocket, pulling out his packet of ambrosia, and Thistle stilled. That was all he had. Without it, he'd bleed out, and he couldn't even-

"Mason, please," Thistle gulped. "Don't do this."

"Funny." Mason set the packet of ambrosia on top of a dumpster, in Thistle's direct line of sight. "I seem to remember saying something similar to you, years ago. But I've had enough of your voice."

Before Thistle could comprehend what Mason meant, the son of Apollo was shoving a wad of fabric into his mouth. Thistle struggled, but Mason produce another rag and tied it around the back of his head, securing the bundle in place. Mason grinned. "That's much better - now you get to stay here, and bleed out all alone. You won't be able to scream for help. You won't be able to heal yourself, but more importantly, I'll be able to go to sleep knowing that I never have to hear your voice again."

Horror seeped through Thistle. His life couldn't end like this. He didn't want it to. He had so much to look forward to! He wanted to watch his cousin, Grover, grow into himself. He wanted to have a family, he wanted to keep protecting demigods for another few years at least! If he died here, then nobody he cared about would ever know what had become of him.

Mason gave him one last smile, a twisted thing, and walked off. Thistle screamed but the gag blocked any sound. His wound throbbed but he couldn't stem the bleeding. His eyes caught on the ambrosia Mason had left on the dumpster, just to taunt him. He didn't want to look, so he just closed his eyes. Maybe, if he just took a little rest, conserved his energy, just a bit...

Thistle slumped.

AN: On second thought, I do have a pretty bad track record of keeping Satyrs alive :P