"Let go!" Thalia screams.

She jerks her hand with all her might, but Beryl Grace's grip drags her towards the car. Thalia is just nine years old. Weak and frail compared to her mother.

It was just for a moment.

Where is he?

How could she? How could he be gone? Thalia was just getting a picnic basket. It hasn't even been five minutes. Where was her brother? What did her mother do?

It didn't make any sense.

Where did you go, Jay?

"Jason!" she calls out towards where she last saw him. Her brother was still out there. Their mother was crazy. Delusional. He was out there, and she was going to leave him. "Ja—"

"Shut up!"

Her head twists suddenly to the side and Thalia is momentarily stunned. Her cheek stings. And the grip on her wrist loosens. Thalia falls to the ground and can't help but look at the woman that just struck her.

It isn't the first time her mother has hit her.

What did you do?

Even with ruined makeup, disheveled hair, and holding a nearly empty wine bottle, Beryl Grace was infuriatingly beautiful. As if her last name was made solely for her, she exemplified grace, even in hysteria. Thalia always thought her mother was undeserving of it.

Too gentle for someone like you.

"Get up," Beryl commands. Her face polishes itself into a perfect mask. Calm and collected. There is no anguish. No sadness. As if she hasn't just abandoned her own son. The only blemishes are tear streaks.

Thalia does, but not out of respect. The muscles in her legs tensed. She needs to find her brother. He's two years old. She needs to keep him safe.

"Where's Jason?" Thalia asks, the tone sits somewhere between demanding and begging.

"Gone, you stupid brat! Beryl's eyes reveal more cracks in her mask. "When are you ever going to finally listen to a word I've been saying? Jason is as good as dead! Now get in the car!"

"How could you!" Thalia keeps her distance.

"I did it for you," the woman snarls. "Everything I've ever done, I did it for you! And you've never been grateful!"

"Liar! You only care about yourself!"

Beryl begins marching towards Thalia and the daughter of Zeus can't help but be afraid.

There was a monster in front of her.

"I lost everything because of you," her mother says in a voice quieter than the grave. A manicured hand weaves its way through her golden locks.

Thalia takes two steps back for every step her mother makes.

"My career," her blue eyes twitched as she stalked towards her daughter. "My reputation. My Future. You took it all away! From the moment you were born, I was left with nothing!"

Thalia's back hits a tree and her mother closes in.

The wine bottle hits the ground with a soft thump.

"Give it back, you ungrateful brat!" Beryl wraps her hands around her daughter's neck. "Give it back!"

Her slender fingers tighten like a vice.

"Every dollar I ever wasted on you!"

Thalia's hands strain as she tries to pry open her mother's grasp.

"Every hour, every minute, every second!"

Her lungs scream as the hands constrict more and more.

"Give me back my life!"

"Give. Me. Back. My brother!" Thalia spits at the madwoman in front of her.

The hands release their grip on her throat. She's thrown violently to the ground, gasping for air. But each desperate breath is for naught because Beryl slams her bright red stilettos into her daughter's gut.

"A god fell in love with me!" She digs and twists her heels into Thalia's stomach and dots speckle her vision. "Of all the women in the world, he loved me! And look at how you turned out!"

Thalia curls herself into a ball. She covers her face and body as much as she can as her mother kicks and stomps. It's like a giant crushing a bug.

"An ugly, stupid little girl! No talent! Nothing of value! All you had to do was be good enough!"

I hate you, she repeats over and over in her head. It's the only thing that drowns out the sting and ache. Monster. I hate you. Disappear. I hate you. Stop hurting me.

Her heel clips Thalia's ears and the flesh splits with ease.

"He left me because of you!" Beryl snarls. "Why are you never enough, Thalia Grace!"

Thalia's eyes burn and her ear buzzes. Her face is warm and wet, and something catches in her throat. It's a pitiful sound and she hates it.

She hates being so small and weak.

"Why did you ruin my life?"

"You made him leave!" Thalia cries.

A vicious kick breaks Thalia's guard and another swiftly finds the opening, cracking her across the head. Blood paints her skin and stings her eyes. She hates the smell, the stench of life leaving her body.

"You're killing me," she whimpers. But Thalia knows that even if she screamed it to the heavens, her mother wouldn't care. She's never cared. She's never done anything but cussed Thalia out, screamed at her, and hurt her.

Beryl Grace was very good at hurting Thalia.

"It should've been you! Jason was enough! He came back for Jason! Jason had a reason to be born!"

Something burns deep inside Thalia. It runs from her heart to the tips of her fingers. It is a spark, ever so small, but a spark, nevertheless. And it ignites. It sets aflame a strength inside of her, a weapon she can use to protect herself.

"Why wasn't he enough for you to keep!" Thalia yells through the kicks. The fire grows hotter. It dances just beneath her skin, yearning to be unleashed.

"Why were you born, Thalia!" Beryl wrenches Thalia to her feet and slams her against the tree. "Why do you exist? What did I do to deserve a daughter like you? All you've ever done is made my life a hell! Look at me you insufferable child!"

And she does.

Her electric blue eyes delve into soulless sapphires.

She swings her fist, sparks wisping from her hand like the tail of a comet.

Thalia is released from her mother's hold.

It's a jolt. Barely more than carpet burn. But it makes her mother cry out. Makes her feel a fraction of what she's inflicted on her daughter.

A twisted satisfaction arises within her.

Thalia braces herself against the tree, bloody and bruised, at the hands of the woman that called herself a mother. She's afraid and she's angry. Thalia hates the monster that wears the skin of a woman. She hates her with a cold and suffocating grip over her heart. Beryl Grace has ruined her life for long enough.

She's stolen her brother away from her and tossed him aside.

"Is this how you're treating me?" a chuckle winds its way through her body. The wine bottle is snatched from the ground in a single languid motion. Beryl covers her eyes with a hand and downs the last of her drink. "I've been too soft on you. You're rotten through and through."

She runs her delicate fingers through her hair, brushing the rogue strands from her face. And slowly, like a wooden doll, her head creaks towards Thalia. It's the first time she's ever seen murder in someone's eyes.

Beryl Grace wears it well.

The wine bottle shatters against Thalia's skull.

"Courage is grace under pressure."

It's a nightmare that's come and gone many times in Thalia's life. A wound that's set itself deep within her soul and is to never heal. Even in her long slumber, somewhere between life and death, it's been a reminder.

Thalia Grace was not raised with love and affection. She was raised with pain and violence. That she was meant to be seen and not heard. And especially never to cry in public. She was taught that she was worthless, inferior, and undeserving of being happy. Thalia was raised not knowing what the word mother meant.

Mom. Dad. Parent.

She didn't know what those were.

Only that she hated the ones she had.

And then she met Sally Jackson.

The wounds dug themselves deeper.

No screaming. No fits. No beatings.

Thalia envied the son of Poseidon. Percy had a small family of only him and his mother and yet they were the happiest people that she had ever seen. Sally had a heart too big for any one person. Her warm blue eyes lit up when she met Thalia. She was genuinely happy to meet her. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners. The tug of her lips into a smile… it made her stomach tumble and her heart hurt.

Gods, why did it hurt so much?

Even at a young age, she knew deep down that what was happening to her was wrong. She always fought back. With words. With fists. With anything she could get her little hands around. And when she inherited it, she fought with lightning.

Violence was the language she was taught to speak, and she was fluent.

They were the only words spoken in that house.

An unyielding nightmare, day after day. Her only reprieve was Jason. Someone that needed her around because he wouldn't have lasted a day with Beryl Grace. They didn't mind not feeding their offspring for days on end. She would lock them in their rooms when she was sick of Jason's crying. Thalia grew up too fast in her home, forced too in order to ensure her brother wasn't hurt either.

And then he was ripped from her life.

Her nights return to that day. A constant and damning memory that plagues her sleep. It plays over and over, like a reel of film, never once missing its premier at the edges of slumber.

But like always, just like the day it happened, it ends in darkness.

And Thalia wakes up.

She's sore all over and it hurts to breathe. Bandages wrap around her stomach, shoulder, and arm as if she were primed for a sarcophagus. Someone has laid her on top of an actual bed with a blanket, not like the sleeping bags she was so used to as of late.

The tent is bare and smells of cleaning chemicals. There's only a nightstand next to her. Aegis rests atop in its bracelet form. Her broken spear sits next to it. But no golden locket.

Thalia's hand goes to her neck and lands against warm skin.

Where is it? Panic begins to set in.

A groan slips from her as she sits up in the bed, eyes darting around for her only lead.

"Looking for something?"

Phoebe watches over her from a stool in the far corner of the tent. The locket glints in her hand.

"Give it back," Thalia croaks.

Blue eyes narrow, "Why? Something to hide from your sister?"

"None of your business, Phoebe!" Another gasp of pain escapes as Thalia shuffles off the blankets and her feet find purchase on the cool flooring of the tent. "And we're not sisters."

"Was it a lie then? Is an oath so meaningless to you? What exactly is your goal, daughter of Zeus?"

The lieutenant stares down the oldest living member of the Hunt. She might be a daughter of Apollo, but the girl is large and muscular. Phoebe's almost a head taller than Thalia and could easily floor her given how weak she is right now.

Thalia has seen what she's done to monsters with her bare hands. It doesn't take much imagination to see how a fight with her would go. But the daughter of Zeus has never backed down from a fight.

Not since that day.

"What's inside?" Ice-cold eyes peek out from ginger bangs. "An old lover?"

"I'll give you five seconds to hand it over," Thalia whispers.

Phoebe regards her with a quirked eyebrow, disbelief all over her face.

"Five."

Thalia slips Aegis onto her wrist, the familiar weight bolsters her confidence.

"Four."

She closes her hand around her broken spear, shattered but still lethal.

"Three."

"You're serious," Phoebe says. She stands from the chair. Thalia has to look up at her to stare into those merciless glaciers.

"Two."

Phoebe crosses her arms, there are no weapons that can be seen on her, but she's too confident to not have something up her sleeve.

"One."

Electricity runs through Thalia's veins. The air sings and chirps as arcs run up her body. Reflected in Phoebe's blue eyes is a fearless, unmoving indifference.

There were many ways this could have gone.

Phoebe attacks first. Thalia counters with Aegis. She ends it with blade or thunder.

Thalia attacks first. Aegis, bronze, or lighting, any of them would work. Phoebe is pretty fast, but she isn't faster than electricity. It would daze her at least. Kill her if needed.

The girl backs down and Thalia takes what's hers. A bloodless encounter. Not very likely.

The daughter of Zeus decides on offense. It's what she's good at. Thalia was raised by violence. She chooses a combination of spear and storm. But Thalia hides her intent behind Aegis' transformation.

The shield's masquerade unravels first. Let it draw the eye, let Medusa's ugly maw be a distraction. The spear moves behind the gorgon's visage, volts of electricity singeing the air as the weapon closes in. No matter how Phoebe reacts, she has no answer to lightning.

No resistance. No magic. Nothing.

Phoebe catches the blade of the spear with her hand and doesn't so much as flinch as the currents surge through her body.

"That's cute."

Her eyes go from blue to sinister scarlet. Phoebe's hair shifts to ebony and reaches down to her back. Her silver jacket melds into star-studded black feathers.

"You've got the right idea, Kiddo," the disguise drops completely as her smile grows wicked.

Aegis retracts and her arms drop to her side.

Eris stands in front of her.

She places both of her hands on Thalia's shoulders, and Thalia's heart stops beating for a second.

"Trust your instincts, Thalia," Eris gives her another smile. Too kind for it to mean anything good. "It's yours. Don't let anyone take what belongs to you."

She slips the locket around Thalia's neck. Freezing cold gold chills her skin to the touch. A putrid pride festers inside those crimson pools. She's a vulture circling fresh carrion that she knows belongs to her, and yet it's so very tender.

"Why are you here?" Thalia asks. She stares at the goddess that's snuck into the Hunt's campsite. The devil who has offered her a piece of her past on a silver platter looks at her in a manner that Thalia can't wrap her head around.

There's too much affection for a being that recently attacked and nearly killed her. She smells like apple pies on a windowsill, free of the stench of murder and destruction. The butcher's apron has been traded for a simple black toga. She moves and speaks like a totally different person.

Too soft and sweet.

Her mannerisms make Thalia's chest tighten.

Too full of love and care.

"For you obviously," she leans in for a whisper. "Don't you think two weeks is far too long for a nap? I said I'd be in touch, and we've got places to be and things to do before July 1st. I'm a goddess of my word, this'll be a birthday to never forget."

The hairs on the back of Thalia's neck stand on ends, "I've been out for two weeks?"

"You came awfully close to burning up," she hums. "They couldn't risk anymore ambrosia and had to let you heal naturally." She pats Thalia fondly on the cheek. "I got impatient. And I'm sure you're equally eager to find your dear little brother."

"What do you want me to do?" The daughter of Zeus looks into the depths of conflict and madness. The devil wants something from her.

When did the color crimson become capable of such heartrending compassion?

"Why don't we take a step outside first?" Eris suggests. "I don't want a little puppy at my beck and call. I need someone that can think for themselves. I want you to know exactly what they're hiding." The goddess steers her to the tent's flap. "I already told you, Thalia, the Olympians won't help you. Isn't that right—"

Eris opens the flap and steps out with Thalia in tow.

Moonlight streaks towards them, but the goddess' black wings are already in front of Thalia, shielding her. A silver arrowhead stares her down, peering through dark feathers, golden ichor staining the metal.

"Arty?" The goddess of strife bears a wicked grin and her fingers twitch with anticipation.

Thalia's seen this smile cut her open and play with her insides. She knows this smile. It makes sense. Puts her on guard. The sweet, gentle smile that was full of love?

It fills her head with fog.

The wings fold back, and Thalia sees the silver goddess, the real Phoebe, and the rest of her huntresses. Their bows trained on the two of them. Thalia is met with a divine firing squad of people she has spent a month fighting alongside.

The moon is bright and full behind the goddess, bathing them in natural radiance.

"It is suicide to enter my camp during a night like this," the silver maiden glares. "But you've never had much sense, Bane of Troy."

Eris flips her off, "Pull the stick out of your ass, Arty."

The huntress turns her gaze to Thalia, "But you, lieutenant, I had such high hopes for you." The silver of her eyes knit in disappointment. "Surely, you realize that whatever Eris has seduced you with will be mired in tragedy?"

"Oh, please, I can be generous if someone treats me with some actual respect," Eris nudges her forwards. The goddess of discord gives Artemis a knowing smile. "Go on, Kiddo, ask her if she'll help you."

Thalia's mouth is dry. Her breath, short. She's balancing on a razor's edge.

It is an agonizingly slow moment, where the only sounds are her breathing and the wind's howl. Silver stares into her soul. She feels condemned before she even speaks.

But Thalia lets her greatest secret roam free. The shame that's been buried in the depths of her heart for years. Trapped under mental chains and locked away. It's taboo, something not meant to be shared, never to see the light of day. Knowledge that neither Luke nor Annabeth were privy to. Her first and greatest mistake. But she has to rip open her chest and let it out. Because every time Eris speaks, she sounds more and more reasonable.

Maybe Thalia has gone insane, or maybe she's the only sane one in world that has been against her since birth.

"There's someone that I need to find. He's my—"

"Your brother, Jason Grace," Artemis interrupts. "I am aware."

Thalia feels something grip her heart and squeeze. The chains fasten, the locks snap shut, and she's rigid. Her fingers twitch in her shield arm, a fist forming reflexively.

"You knew," the accusation is cold and without emotion.

"All of Olympus knows," Eris' arms wrap around Thalia's waist, her head finds a familiar resting place on Thalia's shoulder. There is something about it that is sickeningly protective and motherly. "Did you think that Zeus' second illegitimate child with the same mortal would be a secret?"

"Were you never planning on telling me?" Something burns inside Thalia. "You have a brother! What if it happened to him!"

"I would not allow for it to happen."

It's like being slapped across the face.

Thalia has never given it much thought, but the moon must be freezing cold in the vacuum of space. You bitch, she says wordlessly, mouthing the insult instead. Her blue eyes drill into the goddess.

The sensation squeezes and tightens until it feels as if her heart will burst.

Artemis' eyes are filled with pity, "There is no son of Zeus named Jason Grace. There is no Greek demigod with that name. None that lives with that name. Your pain and turmoil will be in vain. Come to your senses and—"

She doesn't hear the rest of what the goddess says.

What?

No son of Zeus named Jason Grace?

I was there.

I held him in my arms.

I saw him eat a stapler.

Jason was real.

Jason was stolen.

Jason is my brother.

The boy in the picture was Jason.

I know it was.

What are you trying to say?

"Look at her, Thalia," Eris snakes her hand under Thalia's chin and gently turns it towards the huntress' eyes. The moon burns brighter than the sun. "Look at how easily she lies, Thalia."

"I have spoken none, goddess of discord—"

"Look. At. Her."

And Thalia does.

Artemis is stone-like in her expression, her lips set in a thin line. Her jaw is stiff. But it's the eyes that tell the truth, the windows to the soul. Artemis is honorable. She keeps her word and does not lie. At least that's what she believed. But the silver eyes look past her, not quite meeting her gaze. Maybe between her eyes or just above them, but never directly there. Either she's not telling the full truth or she's purposefully hiding something, twisting the facts.

And that was a lie in and of itself.

She lied. The goddess knew about her brother the entire time and lied. She looked Thalia in the eyes and lied. This was the goddess that Zoë gave her life for? This was the goddess that Thalia swore an oath to?

"I told you Thalia, the Olympians won't help you," Eris' embrace tightens. Her voice is achingly soft. "But I would. I'm the only one who can help you. The only one who would ever take your side. It's us against the world."

Apples, cinnamon, and lavender fill the air with their scent.

It makes her head spin.

"Don't be played, Thalia Grace," Artemis looks at her, silver trying to find blue. "There is much you cannot know. And even more that you do not understand, but you and your brother cannot reunite. You live in different worlds, ones never to collide—"

"Do you hear yourself?" Aegis springs forth and her grip tightens on the remains of her spear. "I can't see my brother ever again? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Some of the hunters bristled at her actions, but Artemis signaled for them to stop with a hand.

"You would doom thousands to die," Artemis says solemnly. "Do not let your affections take the lives of innocents."

Thalia hears the words, but she just can't make sense of them. Doom thousands? She just wants to find her brother!

Innocent, Thalia repeats the word in her head. Innocent. Innocent. Innocent. Innocent. Jason was innocent. Jason never did anything wrong, but mom—that woman left him! Why am I responsible for thousands? Who even are they? Why are they more important than my brother?

"They aren't," Eris sighs, as if she can feel Thalia's thoughts. She whispers calming affirmations into her head. "They don't matter at all. You know this. They're just in your way."

The daughter of Zeus is the eye of a miniature storm. Bolts of lightning strike wildly, lashing out at anything and everything within its proximity. It's a thundering tantrum, a repressed wrath that she's never truly let loose.

A tree falls.

The tent catches fire.

Someone screams.

Glistening silver fills the night.

A set of wings protect her again.

"It's alright, Thalia," the devil on her shoulder soothes. Thalia is drawn out of her rage and the crackling song of electricity recedes. "We'll find him. Together. I promise."

The daughter of Zeus wants so dearly to believe what she's saying. But Eris is the goddess of strife. The black wings of treachery. The mother of murder and ruin.

And yet, it's so enticing. It's unbelievably alluring. Knowing that her brother was alive, someone she had believed dead for so long, and had suddenly become tangible. She needs to find him.

Thalia was the only one who took care of him. From the moment she held him in her small childish hands, she knew she had to keep him safe. Because the monster in their house liked to indulge in drink, liked to shatter glass and scatter the shards as if it were rain. Thalia had to protect him from her. He was the only reason that kept her in that… that prison.

"Where is he?"

"All in due time, dear," Eris promises.

Artemis pulls back her bow, and a moonbeam nocks itself in place, "Do not be foolish, lieutenant."

"I'm afraid, Thalia, that Artemis doesn't have a heart," Eris gives her a pitying look. "You're looking at the goddess that killed the only person she has ever loved. Someone like that would never let you find your brother."

"Goddess of discord, I would have silence from you." Silver moons blaze with argent flames. "You sow misery and torment with every flap of your wings. You bring down nations based on fleeting whims. Every tragedy in history can be linked to you."

Eris brings a finger to her chin and tilts her head. "Sure, I've had some fun in the past. But am I wrong?"

There is a wind of chaos, a whisper of treachery that blows through. Something inside the Hunt wavers. Their bows lower ever so slightly. Thalia is terrifyingly aware that the most dangerous thing about Eris isn't what she can do, but what she can say. Conflict resides within the heart, and Eris is beholden to all the dirty little secrets that dwell inside.

Something is brewing and it is poisonous.

"Whatever happened to that dashing son of Poseidon who joined your Hunt?"

A few heads turn and Artemis remains stoic, indifferent to the hushed questions.

"Well, Arty?" Eris tilts her head. "What happened to Orion?"

The wind howls once more but it seems as if it's judging the goddess of the moon this time. But there is only silence from Artemis. A deep and unforgiving silence that foretells doom.

"He loved you, didn't he? The moon tugs on the sea, pulling the tides along just like you did. How long did you string him along? Were you bored of playing with him? What did you do to him, Artemis?"

Artemis does not speak, but her silence echoes.

"What about you, Kiddo? Know anything about your cousin's murder?"

Thalia's mouth is dry as Eris' kind red eyes sparkle with mischief.

The daughter of Zeus shakes her head.

"She shot him through the heart," Eris sighed as if bored. "Arty hunted him down like an animal and hung his corpse from the heavens. He was just another trophy—"

The moonlight flies from Artemis' bow. Thalia is spun to the side. The devil is standing in front of her now. She can see through Eris' chest. Cauterized flesh frames the perfect full moon shaped chasm. Artemis looks back through the cavity where the goddess' heart should be.

"Just. Like. That." Eris smiles and winks at Thalia, but ichor dribbles from the corners of her mouth. "Tell me something…"

"No," Artemis' voice is laced with venom. "I will not allow you to twist reality to suit your designs."

Moonlight arms itself onto her bow again, brighter than the last.

Eris' eyes glimmered gold and she glances over her shoulder at the Hunt.

"Why didn't you come alone?"

There's a sound that reverberates through the air. Like the snapping of bones. It's a vicious, evil sound that pulls at the soul. It whispers and sings like a siren, beckoning at the deepest and most shameful of thoughts, those that are taken to the grave. It's an invitation to act on them, and it is irresistible to a mortal mind.

The Hunt releases their fire.

But not at the goddess of discord.

Artemis is impaled by dozens upon dozens of arrows. Shock flashing across her features as she falls forwards. Moonlight disperses in the air and ichor fills it instead. But even as gold seeps from her wounds, the goddess changes, shedding her form for another.

But it didn't matter.

Betrayal was effective because it always comes from the people you least expected, people who knew you better than you knew yourself. There was no greater example for Thalia than when Artemis was shot by her own family. Most of them had centuries of practice, not enough to rival the archer twins, but easily able to hit her even as she shifted form. They knew every creature that the goddess had ever become.

No different from bringing down a wild animal.

Regardless of what shape she took, her daughters struck her down almost instantaneously.

The deer's gallop is fruitless. The cheetah's sprint never takes off. And the hawk soars only to fall like a meteor.

Ichor stained the earth as Artemis reverted to her youthful guise. Silver riddles her body in a deadly irony. Gold bled from those argent eyes as her Hunt pined her down with their knives.

"Damn you," the goddess hisses. In that moment, stained gold with divine blood, she truly appeared to be Apollo's twin. The air heats and light flits from her wounds. Her pale skin begins peeling off and turning to ash on the wind. But it dies out, like a star in the void of space. It flickers and disappears.

Unlike other gods, Artemis held a bond with her followers. One of genuine affection and care. She would not harm them, even if there was a puppeteer behind their actions.

"What's wrong, Arty?" Eris smiles. "Don't want to kill the people you love? Maybe there is a heart in there after all."

"You'll pay," Artemis spat. "No matter where you hide—"

"No, I won't," the devil laughs like blades running along each other. "Olympus has very few allies these days. Do you really want me to be your enemy? Here's the truth, plain and simple: the Olympians need me on their side, Arty. Which is why you'll play nice."

Eris slithers away from Thalia and waltzes towards the fallen goddess. The Hunt backs away in a daze, their eyes cloudy and unfocused. She lifts the huntress' head with the tip of her boot.

"Won't you, Artemis?"

There is a growl that comes from the silver maiden, but all she can do is slam her fist into the ground with futility. The moon burns in the sky, as if on fire. But as swiftly as it comes, it vanishes. The celestial body returns to cold indifference in the heavens.

And its mistress relents.

"Fine!" Artemis barks. Her gleaming hatred turns towards Thalia. "I release you from your vow, traitor. May you be rewarded as you so foolishly deserve!"

The circlet that Thalia had been wearing splits in two, sliding from her head and shimmering into moonlight. It's immediate, the complete eradication of all her strength. The boons that came from Artemis, all gone, taken back in an instant. Her wounds reopen, the pain intensifies, and her legs give out.

But Eris is by her side before she can hit the ground. The goddess holds her close, like a mother does a child, "I've got you, Kiddo.

The wings of strife wrap around her once more, and Thalia is weightless.

Sinking into darkness.

She's falling.

There's nothing.

Nothing but the rush of wind.

And then her locket falls loose from her neck.

The gold shines in the darkness right in front of her.

It ripens, the jewelry returns to its true form.

"Ten minutes."

Eris' arms embrace her again from behind, delicate, and warm.

"Ten minutes until you turn sixteen. So, choose. Choose before the clock strikes midnight. Or wait a bit longer and we'll see if you'll truly doom the Olympians. So long as it's what your little heart desires."

"What do you want?" Thalia stares ahead into the apple. The goddess tilts her head in the reflection. "What do I have to do?"

She'll do almost anything to find her brother, and that's what scares her the most.

Thalia didn't know how far she would go to get what she wanted.

"I want you to do whatever you want. That's the deal, Thalia. We'll play our own game, won't we?"

Too simple. Too easy. Where is the catch?

It's too good to be true.

Whatever she wants?

"Why?"

"We all have our favorites," Eris squeezes tighter. "My sisters like those six losers wandering the Maze. My mom's favorite is me, obviously. Me, though? My favorites are the ones that follow their instincts. I just want to see what you'll do. Is that so hard to believe?"

Yes.

Thalia hurls towards oblivion with a goddess in tow. And she ponders the price. It would cost her nothing. Nothing at all. Too good to be true. But too tempting not to.

Do whatever you want.

There are so many things that she wants to do. More than can be achieved in a single lifetime. But she's had so much time stolen away. Unable to save Jason. Unable to see Annabeth grow up. Imprisoned within her own body as her flesh became wood, her skin turned to bark, and her blood was replaced with sap. Unable to scream as she was poisoned, and her best friend turned his back on her. Incapable of doing what she wants.

I want to see you again, Jay.

"I will," Thalia makes a promise to herself. "I'll do whatever I want."

She does.

The daughter of Zeus catches the apple and takes a bite.

It is sweet, but not overly so, just the right amount of sourness to balance it out. The skin crunches, not at all hard or metallic like it appears. And just as soon as she swallows, the rest of it fades away into stardust.

Maybe she did like the taste after all.

It's a similar sensation to the blessing of Artemis, where aging grinds to a halt. But there is no strength. No health. No power. There is no bliss or pain that comes with it. But there's a deal.

She's signed a deal with the devil, and it seems like they are fond of her.

"Fifteen it is," Eris hums. "Who knows? You could've ended the world if you wanted to wait out the clock, but like I said, do whatever you want."

The abyss clears and Thalia falls like a comet.

The clear blue sky is all around her.

The sun grows ever so slightly smaller as her hair whips towards it.

Clouds wander aimlessly below her feet.

Why is everything upside down?

"Is the whole world crazy…" Eris chuckles against her. "Or is it just us?"

"What?"

"Look up, Thalia."

Thalia swallows the lump that's formed in her throat and takes a deep breath.

She looks up.

It isn't the sky that's upside down.

It's her.

A vast desert is spread out before them, and she's plummeting headfirst towards it.

She closes her eyes as the ground approaches fast. She focuses on the whistling of the wind. The flutter of the goddess' feathers. Anything but how high up she is. But she's seen it and now the sight is gnawing at her sanity.

Thalia Grace has never overcome her fear of heights.

She's afraid. Terrified. It's worse than any monster she's ever faced. Because she can't fight back. Can't use violence. Can't electrocute it. Thalia can't do anything.

Eris pushes something into her hand.

Thalia cracks an eye open.

It's her broken spear. The splinters smooth out and molten gold seals itself over the end, forming a ringed pommel. The blade narrows, the metal darkens until it's black as night. A star-stained feather dangles from the eye of the pommel by a dark silk tassel.

It's a gift and a promise.

"Terminal velocity," Eris whispers, barely audible over the screaming winds. "What are you going to do?"

The daughter of Zeus peers back at her imminent doom. Sand dunes stretch endlessly in all directions. She can't tell how close she is, just that her body is moving too fast, and that gravity is a merciless mistress that wants to paint the earth with her blood. Her heart tries to claw its way free from her chest. She's expecting Eris to spread her wings, save her, or make her beg.

She'll beg.

She'll kneel.

She'll lick her boots.

So long as she's not falling anymore.

"Please do something," Thalia shuts her eyes again. "Please, please, please…" she prays. "Help me, please."

"I told you, Thalia, do whatever you want."

The hug tightens.

"I want to stop falling!"

Eris presses her head into the crook of Thalia's neck.

"Do it yourself then, Thalia," the goddess murmurs. "That's the deal. Do whatever you want, but you're the only one that can make it happen."

And then she lets go. She pushes off Thalia and floats away from her. Falling by her side but having removed all hope of outside assistance.

Panic rises in Thalia, filling her from the pits of her mind and overflowing. She flails in the air, spinning and flipping wildly. She's forced to open her eyes, looking for the devil that wants her to do the impossible.

The goddess keeps her wings tucked and just crosses her arms, waiting. She's a statue, unmoving and pitiless as she death spirals. Her hair catches sunlight and the rainbow shimmers at the ends of her black hair. Blood-red eyes bore into her soul, worry etches itself into them, like a mother sending their only child to war.

"Thirty seconds, you can do this."

Stop. Thalia can barely think. Her mind is on autopilot, and it just pleads, desperately bargaining for her survival. Stop, please. Please stop.

"Twenty seconds, I know you can."

Please. Something tugs inside her, a familiar but foreign sensation all at the same time, and she reaches for it. Please! The feeling is slipping, being lost in her panic. PLEASE!

"Ten seconds, trust yourself."

Thalia takes the reforged blade and stabs it into her thigh and focuses on the pain. She focuses on the feeling of when she first created lightning. Of when Jason was stolen and how deeply it scarred her heart. Of how her mother beat her half to death and how she wanted to hurt her back. It's always been there. It's all hers, the electricity that she makes. Not her father's. It belongs solely to her and has been her longest companion. It obeys her and only her.

She calls for it.

"Five—"

It answers its master.

Lightning strikes her, channeled through the dagger. And it rips her apart. She's undone faster than the speed of light. It burns away every particle that made up Thalia Grace. Every drop of blood. Every strand of flesh. Even the tarnished dagger is taken. Nothing remains of her. There is nothing but the dance of electrons, falling towards earth like a hammer striking an anvil.

She's gone.

For just a singular moment.

Thalia Grace ceases to exist.

The bolt reaches the ground and shakes the world.

Just as quickly as she disappeared, she's born again in thunder.

Thalia collapses in a circle of glass on her hands and knees.

Crystalline branches dig into the sand, like the roots of a pine tree.

Blood drips from her leg and she wrenches the black knife free.

It clatters on the smooth surface and dots it with red.

She falls over and a hoarse chuckle rips through her, "Did it…" Her breaths are shallow, but her chuckles become laughter. "I fucking did it…"

A shadow lands next to her.

"You certainly did, Kiddo," Eris pushes the hair out of Thalia's eyes. Her smile is proud. Too motherly. Too sincere. It makes her chest hurt.

The goddess grabs the bloodstained dagger and puts it back into Thalia's hand, gently closing the girl's fingers around it.

Thalia's eyes are heavy and it's hard to keep them open.

She's done enough for now, right?

Just a little nap.

And then she'll get started looking.

Thalia will find him.

And then…

She'll do whatever she wants.

But first she's going to rest her eyes, just for a moment, that's what she wants to do.

"We're gonna shake things up, Thalia."


"Are you okay?" Percy asks, his sea green eyes scrunched up in worry. They walk side by side at the back of their group. Lee and Travis take the front while Lou Ellen and Connor are in the center.

"Yes," Bianca holds his gaze and lies, "I'm alright." Her voice is quiet and lacks the confidence of honesty.

Her ears buzzed again. Three miles away. Female. Sixteen years old.

Death by blood loss.

Percy looks at her and Bianca can't help but turn away.

"I'm fine," she wasn't.

It rings again. One mile below them. Male. Fourteen this time.

Crushed to death.

"I'm sorry," Percy whispers. "You shouldn't have to go through any of this."

Bianca opens her mouth to refute his statement, but it strikes again, harsher than the rest.

Fifty feet above them. Two males. Three females. Ages twelve, fourteen, seventeen, eighteen and ten. The oldest died last.

Murder-suicide.

The headache rips through her like a saw, its teeth digging and tearing her mind apart. It overloads her with information: their last moments, breaths, and thoughts. She knows every little detail from the victims to the murder weapon.

Her knees buckle and there is only momentum. Something—no, somebody stops her fall. But at that moment, Bianca is elsewhere. She's clamping a hand on her throat and clutching at her heart. Her blood seeps through her finger. She's gasping for air, but each feeble breath makes it easier for her to drown in crimson.

Bianca di Angelo experiences death at the end of a knife five times in the briefest of seconds and her body shuts down.

The first death is… pitiful. She's so hungry and they've already given her the last of their rations days ago. She's the only one who's gotten anything to eat for a while. Her small hands shake at the sight of the young woman in front of her. She's scared but there is a naive courage in her heart that stops her from running. She trusts this person and if they say that this is better than wasting away, then… then she'll be a big girl and put on a brave face.

The bravery flees when her throat is slashed, and the tears mix with blood.

The second does not go gentle. He's held down by the older boy as he screams at his sister's killer. They thrash and rage but they're too weak, deprived of nutrition for far too long, barely more than a corpse. The last thing he hears is an apology and his life is snuffed out like a candle.

He manages to claw his way over to his sister in his last moments, closing her eyes.

There is dignity in the third's death. She isn't afraid, she's just tired of being hungry. She hasn't eaten in weeks, and it's been two days since they've run out of water. She won't wait to die. But she doesn't want to be killed either. She just looks at them and asks for the knife. It'll be by her own hands.

She does the wrists and just nods at the survivors before tossing the knife back.

It is a bittersweet end for the young man. He looks at her and gives her a small sad smile. She's the love of his life and now they're both in hell. But even in darkness, she's brighter than the sun and he wants her to be the last thing he feels. The hug is warm and so is his blood. He holds her tight and never lets go, not even in death.

"I love you."

The deaths began by her hand and will end with her. She sits him by the wall of the cave and leans her head against his. He has gone still, and she finally lets her tears flow. She doesn't need to pretend to be strong anymore. She grips his hand and promises that she'll find him again. She is the last to die and the knife finds a sheath in the heart of its final victim.

"Next time… we'll get it right."

The spell breaks as the last life ebbs away.

Bianca is back in her own body, sobbing and shaking. She can still feel the kiss of the knife against her throat and deep within her heart. She is a trembling mess, and five sets of eyes look at her with equal parts confusion and concern.

"Bianca," Percy is kneeling, his hand steadies itself on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I-I," her mouth is dry, and the words refuse to cooperate. How does she even explain what happened? Oh, I just know exactly when, where, and how someone dies! Yeah, right. Because that was 'normal.' Instead, she says, "I don't know."

"Are you sure?"

"No." She does know, it just doesn't make sense. But she sees the earnest expression of worry on his face and the truth unravels itself despite the uncertainty. "I-I can feel it when somebody dies."

There is a silence that deafens the world. So quiet that her heartbeat becomes a roar, and the flow of blood is raging rapidly in her veins. She doesn't look at them, doesn't want to see the way they're judging her. She should've kept her mouth shut. Should've just kept hiding it. Should never have—

"Me too," Percy says.

Bianca's dark eyes dart up and she's relieved to see the simple and genuine honesty reflected in those sea green droplets.

"My ears uh, well they—"

"They ring?" Travis interrupts, his usual smile was set into a grim frown.

"Yeah," Lou Ellen rubs her arm tentatively, hands still trembling ever so slightly. "It's really loud in the Labyrinth. A lot of… activity."

Connor is oddly silent, just giving a solemn nod.

"I thought that it could've been tinnitus," Lee explains. "Probably from all the gunshots and explosions. But what we're experiencing isn't consistent. It's sporadic—no, that's not it. It's a very specific trigger."

"When someone dies," Bianca reaffirms.

Percy mulls over something for a while before speaking, "It's loudest when… when we cause it." Riptide emerges from its humble guise, glowing bronze that gleams under torchlight. It would've been beautiful if the blade wasn't tarnished with dried blood. "It started when I—"

"You don't have to say it," Lee stops him.

It is unspoken, but they all know what Percy means. They were there. Complicit. Just as guilty even if not all of their hands were stained. For better or worse, they chose to live.

Bile rises in the back of her throat. The gastric acid fills her mouth with a bitter, vile taste. And she has no option but to push it back down and live with it.

She sent that arrow through the boy's neck.

Felt his last breath.

But she had to do it.

He would've killed Percy.

That was the price of living.

So why did it make her feel so sick inside? They were trying to kill her and her friend. And yet, something unspeakable, as if a promise made between all of mankind was broken by her actions.

You did a bad thing, Bianca di Angelo…

What would Nico think?

You deserve to be unclaimed.

Bianca did not like the look and feel of her own hands anymore. What had been soft skin was now starting to become callous. They felt like a stranger's, the tools of a killer. She had scrubbed them with soap and water from her supplies, but the stench of blood refused to leave.

"We never really got to talk about it," Connor speaks for the first time. "Because of the whole drakon trying to eat us fiasco, but it's the sound of scissors." He looks at his brother, then slowly makes eye contact with the rest of them. "They did something to us. Something about us changed when—"

"Ashes and dust!"

It's spoken in Ancient Greek and the air hums with power, growing much too hot.

A fireball streaks past Bianca's head and ignites the tunnels behind them.

Lou Ellen's index and middle finger tremble as smoke drifts from the extended digits.

Something is wrong. Lou Ellen has been shaking constantly, and it's just been in her hands and arms.

Bianca turns to look back.

Six pairs of blackened moth wings spiral towards the ground.

"Let's get going," Lee whispers. "I'm sick of being followed."

And they do, silently.

But Bianca's mind drifts to other thoughts, other worries.

They aren't experiencing what she is. They can tell when someone dies. Yet, they made no mention of anything else. Just the death knell that signals a stolen life. But not the cause or location like she can. Hers is something else entirely. She can see their final moments, through their eyes and feel everything.

There is something different about Bianca.

Bianca di Angelo, who sees ghosts.

Who knows when someone dies.

Who knows where they died.

Who knows what killed them.

Who can live out a person's deaths.

She doesn't know why this is happening to her.

And she doesn't like it. She doesn't understand. Bianca has no knowledge about Greek mythology unlike Nico. She's too afraid to ask the other. Bianca doesn't want them to judge her for being a freak.

"Hey," Percy tugs at the sleeve of her coat and draws her from her brooding. "Are you okay?" He asks again.

"Yes, Percy," she tries to sigh like he's bothering her, but they both know she's not. 'I'm fine. Just tired is all. I don't think I've ever run this much in my life. Never seen a—what did you guys call them?"

"Drakon," Travis calls back to them. "Imagine like a snake mixed with a dragon and fed nothing but steroids."

"Oh, don't worry," Bianca says. "I noticed." It was hard to miss it when it had almost killed them.

"I didn't think they could get that big," Percy admits. "I've seen small ones in the woods but I've—"

"Never seen one that shakes off explosive arrows and Greek fire?" Lee rubs his bandages. "Neither have I."

Bianca winces. She thought that was it for her when it came through the fire. But then Lee had bundled his explosive arrows in one deadly crescendo. He released it as the monster's jaws were upon them.

It was nearly point blank.

And the son of Apollo flew backwards like a sack of potatoes, his bow shattered, and the splinters nailed themselves into his chest. His coat had been ripped to shreds and his orange shirt littered with blood and scorch marks. Whether out of adrenaline or willpower, he managed to rise to his feet.

Lou Ellen shook her bag and let Greek fire fall to the ground, some string of incantations sent them rolling like bowling balls towards the monster in a brilliant emerald flourish.

Travis had been caught by the tail and was slammed into his brother. But the sons of Hermes managed to avoid its jaws. They split its attention as the drakon lunged into the stone walls.

And Bianca… she just froze. Numb and confused. Her ADHD, the source of her natural combat experience, failed her. She was still processing the magnitude of the monster, which dwarfed the hydra.

Nothing that large should move so fast.

Percy had saved her life again.

He grabbed her by the hand and ran down the tunnel. And Bianca focused her thoughts on him, ignoring the beat of her heart and drakon's screech. His hand was warm.

Percy Jackson was like the Mediterranean Sea.

Beautiful and deadly.

But most of all, he's kind. His smile is goofy and warm. He's a hero but Bianca thinks he's never looked in the mirror because he doesn't seem to realize it.

She's never had friends before. Enemies? Plenty, the cliques never liked her. But never friends, those… they were a luxury too rich for someone like her.

She's never had someone talk to her about how she felt. Never had someone tell her about their family, their worries and insecurities. She's never been given trust before, only responsibilities.

Bianca wants to meet his mother; she wants to see the person that made his eyes sparkle like stars. She wants to meet Tyson, the brother he has a dozen stories about. Bianca wants to know more about him.

"You're my first friend," Bianca whispers, looking down at her dirty sneakers. Heat creeps up her face. She's afraid that she'll die or worse, he will, and she'll never have a chance to express her gratitude. "I'm glad I met you."

Lou Ellen's torch crackles.

Their footsteps echo.

Connor spins his revolver.

Bianca feels like she'll burst into flames.

"What's your favorite food?" Percy asks. The Mediterranean is distilled in his sea green eyes, and she wonders how the gods managed to make a color so vibrant and pure.

"I dunno," she says numbly. "I just buy whatever's easy to cook."

"Then we'll figure it out when we celebrate our success," Percy gives a lighthearted chuckle. "I think you'll like my mom's cookies. I'm glad I met you too."

Her heart swells.

"We're invited too, right?" Lou Ellen finds a bounce in her step. "I've got so many things I want to show you!"

A smile tugs on her lips. The daughter of Hecate always seemed to find some happiness despite what goes on around them. She's strong, stronger than she realizes.

"We've got video games in our cabin," Travis says. "Name it and we have it, or we'll get our hands on it."

"Although, probably not at our place," Connor shakes his head. "Unless you want to invite a couple dozen extra as well?"

Bianca thinks the Stolls are good people. Eccentric? Definitely. But goodhearted. They'll be with you through thick and thin. Especially when they're the ones dragging you into it.

"I would offer my cabin, but then Michael would be there," Lee grimaces. "And you've probably overheard our karaoke nights."

Lee is everyone's big brother. Always putting himself last. Bianca worries that he doesn't seem to care what happens to his body so long as someone else is unscathed.

"Dude, I thought that was the harpies eating someone," Percy deadpans.

"He's not the best singer."

"He's fucking lethal!"

Lee flushes and rubs the back of his neck, "Sorry… I don't have the heart to tell him."

"Well hurry up and get one that will," Travis mutters.

A smile worms itself onto her lips.

"I'm glad I met you guys too," Bianca says.

They stop in their tracks and look at her. She hates it when people stare at her, she hates thinking about what their expression could be. But she owes it to them. Bianca looks them in the eyes.

She's relieved to see that there is no mockery. No condescension. Just the attention given to someone whose opinion they respect.

Joyful tears fall against stone.

"I'm really happy that you're here."

She clenches her hands and tries to control her trembling lips.

"I'm happy that I'm still alive."

It's so hard to see but she just blinks away the tears.

"I was so scared, and I-I still don't know who my parent is," Bianca chokes. "I'm so happy that there are people that want me around. I'm so glad that I got to meet all of you."

She sniffs and wipes her eyes on the sleeves of her coat.

"I'm sorry I'm not more useful. I wish I could fight like you can. I want to do more. I hate being so useless. I'm sorry for being a burd—"

Percy wraps his arms around her. Then Lou Ellen sneaks in a one-armed hug, the other holds the torch high. The hug shakes as the Stolls join in. Lee smells of rubbing alcohol and iron, but he's there too, he's always there when you need him.

"I know what it's like," Percy whispers. "Watching, helpless, as someone you care about gets hurt. It hurts so much feeling like there's nothing you can do. But don't talk about yourself that way."

"I think you're great," Lou Ellen's smile is brighter than the flame she holds. "You're a natural and you don't even know it!" She winks like the two of them share a secret.

"Do what you can," Lee says. "We'll all make it back to Camp in no time, I owe it to all of you guys."

"You kinda suck at stealing eggs," Connor's grin is lopsided. "But we all gotta start somewhere."

"Ignore him," Travis elbows his brother. "What he meant to say was that this is our first quest too. Don't look at us for the gold standard. We're just as green as you are."

"Don't sell yourself short," Percy's eyes are beautiful as always.

It's so hard to talk between her sobs and how full her heart is. "Thank you," she says between hiccups. "Thank you. Thank you—"

A white moth lands on Bianca's shoulder.

A black one on Lou Ellen's.

A little yellow sun flutters on Lee's.

A pair of brown twins find the Stolls.

And a blue bee-like moth settles on top of Percy.

The Labyrinth screams and wails as its walls crack and split. Stone parts and they stand at the crossroads of several intersecting tunnels.

A familiar set of serpentine eyes looms from one of the newly created entrance.


"There!" Percy shouts.

He sees light at the end of the tunnel.

The ground shakes as the drakon closes in, gouging stone as it tears its way forwards.

Just a hundred more feet.

They would make it.

Percy grips Bianca's hand tight and tries to keep in tandem with her. She's six inches shorter than him and her legs aren't quite as long nor used to the exertion that he was.

One wrong step, one stride too far and he kills her.

Bianca would trip and it'd be Percy's fault.

The others are ahead of them but not by much.

Please, Percy prays to his dad. He prays to Hermes. He offers one to Apollo. Any Olympian that has expressed even a hint that they would prefer Percy uneaten and still blowing up half the schools he attends. Hades, he even sends one to Kym. I will give you my dessert for a month!

Maybe they were enticed by his mother's cookies or maybe Percy got lucky. But one by one, they reach the light and step out into the world above. And it's fucking hot.

Percy loses his footing and slips, Bianca yelps as she's dragged down with him.

They're tumbling down a slope of sand, the coarse sediment sticking to his sweat.

"Ow," Bianca groans.

"Where in Hades are we?" Percy looks around and it's just sand.

Dunes and cacti as far as the eye can see. Lee's just a few feet away, dusting the sand off his clothes. Lou Ellen digs around at a spot in the desert before pulling out the ever-burning torch.

Connor looks around, worry in his eyes, "Travis?"

"Get off," Travis mumbles, and the sound ripples across Percy's back.

"Shit, my bad," Percy scrambles to his feet.

"You're surprisingly heavy," the son of Hermes says.

"Wow, rude."

The draconic hiss fills the air once more and sand explodes from the direction they came. Glimmering in the desert sun is a brilliant jade drakon. It was beautiful in the same way that a sword could be beautiful. This monster's entire body was a decorated weapon. That didn't stop it from being deadly. Its frills flared as it rose to its full height, unobstructed by the low ceiling of the Labyrinth's tunnels.

It was longer than a subway train and judging by the size of its head, it could probably swallow one if it felt like it. Percy wouldn't judge, he's eaten some weird things as a toddler.

Riptide's familiar weight settled in his hands.

Percy gulped.

His chances of surviving?

Not looking too good right now.

He took in a deep breath and put himself between it and Bianca.

A sound rang out, echoing in his bones. It wasn't the sharp, shearing knell of Fate. No, it was… brutal. Vicious. Sadistic.

It was the sound vertebrae made when the neck was twisted past the point that life could be maintained. This was the sound of murder. The anthem for something that predates language. Where only violence was spoken.

In one swift movement, the drakon lunged towards its own body and bit down. It sank its massive maw around its scales and painted them red. Then it tore.

It rained in the desert.

The monster watered the sand with its own life force, tearing and cannibalizing itself until it was no more.

Golden dust filled the air and rode the wind.

The drakon was gone, a memory, just more particles in the desert.

"What," Percy swallowed nervously. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Hey, I found them," someone said from behind him.

Travis and Connor readied their firearms.

Lou Ellen's hands shook and crackled with icy mist.

Bianca's bow drew back.

Lee shook his head and drew his dagger, obviously missing his trusted weapon.

Percy gave Riptide one more glance.

Still bloody, huh?

The sword seemed to judge him, keeping itself stained with blood even after transforming several times.

"What do you mean?" There was a large dune buggy sitting in the desert that certainly wasn't there before. A girl with dark wings stepped outside of the driver seat. She wore a black toga and bloodstained boots. A phone was pressed against her head as she spoke into it. "Why do I need to confirm their identities? There's six of them, just like you asked."

Percy couldn't make out who was on the other end, but it didn't seem like they were hostile.

"Huh?" A soft smile formed on her face. "I see, you're worried about your sons. Don't worry, they look just like you. I'll keep them safe. I always tell the truth, don't I?"

She reaches into one of the back seats and pulled out a clipboard.

"Look, I know you've been kinda… out of it recently. But I'm here for you. You know that right?"

Percy looked at his companions.

Should we be listening in on this? He mouthed.

They looked equally as confused.

"You're my best friend," the girl bit the inside of her cheek. I just… don't you want talk to them? Just this once, ignore that stupid rule."

There was something said on the other end of the line that seemed either like a 'no' or a 'hell no!'

"Okay, I hear you, I hear you," she said. A mischievous grin snuck its way onto her lips. She pressed a button on the phone. "Which is why I'm ignoring what you've told me."

The smartphone vanished and a floating TV screen appeared next to her.

Hermes was displayed on the screen, sitting in an office chair, severely sleep deprived and wearing a yogurt-stained dress shirt.

"Oh," the god sighed into his hands. "Why are you like this?"

"You'll thank me later," she waved at him, her wings fluttered slightly. "Just talk to them."

Hermes let out a deep sigh and tried to put on his best smile.

"Hey, Percy," the god had deep bags under his eye. "Glad to see you're alright. That's nice, your mom will be happy to hear it."

Percy was about to say something but then Hermes turned towards his sons and whatever words he had went away.

"Hey, Travis. Hi, Connor," Hermes' smile was pained. "Wow, look at you two. You've gotten so tall. I remember when Travis was five, he used to draw plans to steal the cookie jar. And Connor, you took the bolts off the refrigerator! It's really uh—"

"Nice to meet you," Travis said softly.

"Yeah," Connor shuffled awkwardly. "It's real great to meet you dad—I mean sir."

"Dad is fine," Hermes whispered. "Whatever you're okay with."

Neither of the Stolls responded.

Hermes squirmed in his office chair.

"Hey," the winged girl tapped Percy on his shoulder with a pen. She looks up from her clipboard, and red eyes bore into his soul. "Percy Jackson?"

"Yeah?" He wasn't sure if telling her was a good idea. She worked for Hermes, or at least seemed to be a friend of his, so she probably wouldn't kill him. But on the other hand, she wore bloodstained clothes and didn't exactly give off good vibes.

"Big fan," she said. "Sign and initial here, please." She pointed at one of the lines on the bottom of a long page with a thousand tiny lines of indecipherable legal jargon.

"Fan?" He scribbled his signature and initials on to the page.

"My siblings hate you," she took the clipboard back. "Charon keeps complaining that you didn't get him that raise. Thanatos can't stand that you keep making him come all the way from the underworld only to survive whatever it is that's trying to kill you. Oh, and my sisters, those bitches are the worst! Just between you and me… fuck 'em. Just keep being such an efficient little shit."

"Thanks?"

"No, thank you," she winks, and Percy feels sick, violated. Like she's peered into the darkest recesses of his being and found some secret that even he's unaware of.

Percy gave her the pen back.

"Hey," she turned around. "You okay, Hermes?"

"Yeah, I, uh…" the god trailed off.

"Alright," she sighed. "I get it, too nervous?"

Hermes looked down at something on his desk before turning to face Percy.

"Hey, cousin," the god spoke. "This here is Eris."

What the fuck? That Eris?

The identified goddess gave them all a little wave.

"Normally she works at customer service but she's gonna lend you guys a hand for a bit."

Percy gave a nervous laugh. Oh shit.

"We really appreciate this," Percy did in fact not appreciate this whatsoever. "But isn't this against the rules?" Please let it be against the rules. Holy shit please be super illegal. Mega illegal. Like locking them up in turbo Guantanamo levels of illegal.

"Do I look like an Olympian to you?" Eris tilted her head in a way that reminded Percy of how an executioner's axe fell. "No offense, Hermes."

"None taken," the god smiled. "Percy, listen. I know Eris has a reputation—"

"Troy!" Travis faked a cough.

"World War II!" Connor followed suit.

"But she's really nice when you get to know her, and I think—"

"British food!"

"The French!"

"The Spanish Inquisition," Eris added on and began turning over pages on her clipboard. "The Fall of Rome, the Fall of the Eastern Roman empire, the JFK assassination, the Lincoln assassination, the Civil War, the reason why Drake and Josh fell apart, Jack the Ripper, the bolo tie, Jeffery Dahmer, clowns, Discordianism, Discord, Twitter, Smash Mouth, Elizabeth Bathory, the disappearance of Amelia Earhart, D.B. Cooper, Maximilien Robespierre, the electric chair, the guillotine, lethal injection, politicians, the Football War, the Cold War, the Banana Wars, Scientology, PETA, the demon core, that one incident with Argus and the Hunters of Artemis, and Florida."

"Thank you, Eris," Hermes sighed. "For your extended record—"

"I could keep going if you—"

"That's alright. Like I was saying, Percy. Eris is a good person deep down. She'll help you find a way to navigate the Labyrinth."

The goddess seemed to preen under Hermes' words.

"Just… trust me," Hermes rubbed his forehead. "I'm trying to do as much as I can. My hands are tied. Eris, she can help you much more than I can. I trust her, so please, trust me."

The god looked so tired.

"Okay," Percy nodded slowly. "Tell my mom that I love her, alright?"

"You got it, cousin," Hermes gave one last smile. "Connor? Travis?"

His sons looked at him with apprehension.

"I'm sorry for not doing enough," the god shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry about what you've had to do. I'm just… I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you guys, I promise."

And with that, the TV switched off and turned back into a phone, falling back into the hands of Eris.

"What a sweet guy," the goddess sighed. "Dense, but sweet."

She stopped her musing and walked over to the other side of the dune buggy.

"C'mon, Kiddo, wake-up," Eris nudged somebody in the passenger seat. She gave a few more nudges before sighing. She made her way over to the steering wheel and slammed down on the horn with her fist.

It took about half a second for the dune buggy to explode as electricity surged through the entire vehicle. Eris moved swiftly, a black shadow darting through the open frame of the vehicle and snatching the passenger from an untimely death. She reappeared a few feet from the wreckage before placing the person down.

"I'm up, I'm up," they groaned.

Percy recognized that voice, but never heard it so tired.

"Wakey-wakey, Thalia," the goddess sang. "Your friends are here."

What?

The daughter of Zeus rose with a stretch and gave a loud yawn, "What are you talking about—Percy?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" both demigods said at the same time.

But before anyone else could chime in, Eris clapped her hands.

Something splattered.

A pair of small blue wings fell onto the sand.

The same happened for the rest of his companions.

More wings fluttering to the ground.

"Can't have my sisters spying on us now, can we?" Eris leaned in close. "They're not as nice as me, Perseus Jackson."

Sisters? Oh. Oh, that was very bad.

Percy played with Riptide's cap, "What are you talking about?" His distrust of Eris went from very high to Danger: Do not engage.

She tilted her head again. "Are you stupid?"

"I've been called that on occasions."

"I can work with stupid," Eris looks through him and smiles. "But you're good at pretending to be something you're not. Got a clever tongue, haven't you? If I were a betting goddess, and I am, I would say that Atropos hates you the most."

There's a standoff between him and the goddess.

Eris looms over him, daring him to speak.

And he wants to let a smartass comment slip, but he's afraid that's exactly what she wants.

But it's Thalia who breaks the silence.

"What are we doing here, Eris?"

The daughter of Zeus is badly hurt, worse than Lee is, covered in dried blood and bandages from the waist up. A strange black dagger is holstered by her side, her familiar spear is nowhere to be seen. And—wait, hold on.

"What are you doing here, Thalia?" Percy asked again. "Weren't you on the other quest? What happened?"

"We succeeded?" Thalia shook her head. "Dumbass, why in Hades would I be alive if we didn't win?"

"So, Annabeth is—"

"Yeah, she's fine," Thalia stresses. "Now, what the hell are we doing in the middle of a fucking desert?"

She doesn't ask anyone in particular, and honestly Percy doesn't know how traveling through the Labyrinth works.

"Got chased by a drakon," Lee says.

"Almost got killed," Travis adds.

"Uh-huh," Thalia looks over their group. "Jackson, Fletcher, Stolls…" she looks at Lou Ellen. "Who?"

"Lou Ellen Blackstone."

"Right, you… I've never seen you before."

"Really? I saw you all the time as a dusty old pine tree in need of a pruning."

"Oh, I'm gonna like you."

She takes one last look at Bianca and frowns.

"What?" the girl says, looking away from Thalia's gaze.

"You've got sand in your hair."

"Glad introductions are going well, Kiddo," Eris wraps an arm around Thalia's shoulder and the daughter of Zeus goes rigid, like a deer in spotlights. "They're going the same way we are, so I'm doing Hermes a little favor."

The goddess' tone is different. He's seen her talk like three separate people. She was warm and understanding with Hermes. She was invasive and coercive with Percy. And with Thalia… the goddess' mannerism reminded Percy of his own mother.

"But we really should get going," the goddess points towards the desert. In the shimmering heat, there was a small box like structure jutting out of the sand. "You guys have library cards?"

Surprisingly only Lou Ellen and… Thalia (what the fuck?) nodded.

"You can read?" Percy asked.

"I'm not surprised that you can't, Jackson."

"Look, I have dyslexia—"

"We all do!"

Eris swings her other arm around Percy's neck and locks it in place like a pillory.

"I'm so glad that we're getting along here!"

Percy shoots a look over at his friends: Help me.

There is a brief five seconds where they look at him and then at the goddess.

"So how far is it?" Lee asks.

"'Bout a mile give or take," Eris starts marching him and Thalia through the desert.

"Sorry, Percy," Bianca winces as she dares to walk a bit closer to the goddess than the others.

"This is your fault, Thalia."

"Piss off, Jackson!"

"It's good to see you," he sighs.

Thalia loses the thorns and laughs. "It's good to see you too, Percy."

For better or worse.

There were two children of the Big Three in one large group.

How wrong they were in thinking that there were just two.


First chapter to break 10k words.

Quote is from Hemingway.