A/N: Posting a day early because last week sucked and I'm currently stuck in the ER for the foreseeable future. Good news though: this thing is finished on my end so I'll be posting minimum once a week if not as I get chapters edited. We are sitting right around 20 chapters! Super stoked to share this whole thing for those that are enjoying it. Thanks for leaving feedback if you have! I'm really enjoying hearing from y'all.

Annabeth

On Monday, I dressed simply for the office and headed uptown. I wore comfortable cream slacks, a maroon shirt, and my favorite gold jewelry. My hair was tied back in a slick bun. I needed to look put together, even if it was the opposite of how I felt. Dress for success, and all that.

I clutched my new bag tightly to my side. I hadn't wanted to put anything else in it, so the unwanted item jostled around in the empty tote. Every street noise made me jump, and I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. It might have been a blessing in disguise if someone attacked me and took the bag right then. A normal human, though; nothing with multiple eyes, limbs, or magical abilities.

The meeting I set up was scheduled for midday, so luckily I didn't have to wait too long. Sunday had been borderline unbearable, however. I'd spent the day worrying, thinking about Percy, and fighting off a killer migraine.

My office assistant came in with a mid-morning coffee and a smile on her face.

"I saw the last-minute addition to your schedule today, that could end up being a big client," she said.

"It's a personal appointment, unfortunately," I responded. Truthfully, I didn't need to be taking on any additional projects right now. The firm's workload was really packed for the next two years, to the point where I might need to hire some additional people. I had finally listened to Grayson last year and hired more help so I could slow down a bit, which was ironic since he started focusing on gaining momentum in his career. I thought we were on the same page, and that we were going to start slowing down together.

I tried my best to focus on work to pass the hours until my meeting, which thankfully wasn't too hard. I didn't oversee a ton of projects anymore, which made me sad sometimes, but I had one right now that was in my personal portfolio. A developer had approached me about restoring an old building in Brooklyn, which I happily took on because restorations had become my favorite project type. I learned a long time ago that maintenance was as important as building something new if you wanted to make things last.

Finally, the hour arrived. I heard her check in with my office assistant, and I tried to swallow my nerves before she walked through the door. Calm, cool, and collected; even if it was the opposite of how I felt. She smiled at me as she sat down and said hello, and I tried my best to return a warm greeting even though I wasn't excited about this reunion.

"What is this?" I skipped the pleasantries and pushed the bag across my desk to her.

Rachel Dare looked about the same as the last time I had seen her, but a bit more refined. Her hair was combed through and styled, and she had traded in the marker-colored jeans. She was a commercially successful artist now, and Dare Enterprises still prospered, so I occasionally heard her name around my social circles. Ironically, though, the last time I talked to her was regarding this same item.

"It's great to see you too, Annabeth," Rachel smiled and picked up the bag. The two of us didn't have the most straightforward past, so part of me thought she might be messing with me just for fun. I was sure she'd heard about my arrival at camp a few days prior. Or maybe she had known it was going to happen before I did.

"Rachel, I'm serious. It's good to see you too but I need to know what's going on."

She sighed and opened the bag, pulling out the bronze dagger I knew so well and handling it gently. She had one finger on the point and one on the hilt, and she turned the knife over slowly so it caught the light.

"I just thought you might want this back," she said.

I didn't need to ask how she got it. I had left it with her ten years ago, but I hadn't thought about my former weapon of choice much since. If I had to guess, I would have said it had been passed on to another camper or was sitting in a box in the Big House attic. I didn't think Rachel would have safeguarded it all this time.

"Do you think I need it back?" I asked hesitantly. I was really hoping that I was going to be able to keep my involvement in Cara's prophecy to a minimum, but the Oracle of Delphi showing up and telling me I needed my old weapon back was a bad sign.

"Well, I had the same thought as Percy when I gave Cara her prophecy, but I was waiting to see what he did. And then Chiron called to tell me about what happened on Friday." She smiled, and I pictured her with Chiron, gossiping over an Iris message about camp happenings.

"You couldn't have just given this to me in person?" I asked.

"You know I appreciate a good moment," she said. (Translation: Rachel had a flair for the dramatic.)

"I'm really surprised you kept it," I said softly, examining the knife when she handed it back to me. It felt so familiar in my hands, like it had never left.

"It's yours. I really thought you were going to come back for it at first, and after that it felt wrong to repurpose it."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you the last time we saw each other," I admitted.

My last interaction with Rachel had haunted me for years, and I was glad that I had the chance to apologize now. There had been many times over the years when I yelled, cried, or acted out of line, but there was always someone to reel me back in before I did something stupid. A long time ago it had been Luke and Thalia, and then Percy. After that, there was no one. Shortly after our breakup, I had been out of control. It had been so unexpected, and I hadn't had anyone I could talk to about it, not really. Kennedy and I were living together at the time, but I couldn't tell her how shocked I was that the guy I had survived countless life-threatening situations with, including two wars and trip to the underworld, who was also the most loyal person I knew thanks to his godly parentage, had just ghosted me.

I didn't know why I chose to take everything out on Rachel. All of my Greek friends were also Percy's friends, and in retrospect she probably felt like the safest target. I knew if I went to camp it would get back to Percy, who hadn't spoken to me since he failed to pick me up at the airport, so I made my way to camp and made a scene.

Rachel, thankfully, had my best interest in mind and had taken me up to her cave, instead of letting me make a fool out of myself in front of everyone. I pulled out my knife and tried to give it to her. Over the years, it had symbolized so many things, and at that moment, it symbolized my tie to the mythical world. Surrendering it to the Oracle seemed like the most poetic way to get rid of it.

Being who she was, she didn't let me go without a fight. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of tears, and it ended with me shoving the knife into her hands and leaving. I fled from camp, and didn't look back. That was the moment I stopped being a demigod. I returned to New York to pursue my career goals, and eventually I had everything I wanted. Well, almost everything.

I was lost in thought for a few moments, but Rachel spoke and pulled me out of my trance.

"It's okay," she said, smiling, referring to my apology. "I know what happened now. You know I don't see the future in the traditional interpretation, but several things about what happened back then never made sense to me. I think I understand, but… To answer your question, yes, I think you need the knife back."

It felt cold and heavy in my hands at her words, so I set it down on the desk. This dagger had presented me with so many crossroads over the years that Hecate herself would be jealous. I had chosen to walk away ten years ago by forfeiting this weapon, and now I had to choose whether or not to accept it back.

It didn't take a lot of contemplation. I could replay every argument I had with myself in the bathroom the other night, but I knew I would come to the same conclusion.

I opened my desk drawer and slipped the dagger inside.

"I'm assuming you can't offer any insight on what's happening with Cara's prophecy?" I asked.

"You know I can't interpret my prophecies. It's truly up to the Fates," she said in her typical cryptic way. I knew it wasn't worth pressing her on.

The heavy feeling from the previous few days had nearly evaporated, and this interaction with Rachel had gone so much better than I thought it would. Maybe I had been nervous she was going to scold me, or that this would cause things to get more complicated, but it actually felt really natural.

After Rachel left, I pulled up my email and scrolled back. Cara had sent me a photo of Phillip's curse mark and a copy of the prophecy, as promised. I'd never read a prophecy over email before, but I stared at the ominous words.

The messenger's son deceived

to break the curse and set them free

A trap for forethought's apprentice is weaved

And from wisdom reclaimed of ten years past

An end to deception shall come at last

The kids seemed spot on about lines one, two, and five. Percy seemed to have worked out line four, although I wouldn't have been surprised if it had a double meaning. I focused in on the third line.

Could weaved have anything to do with Arachne? If I had to relive that specific part of my past, it might send me over the edge (again).

Forethought's apprentice was an interesting phrase. Forethought could mean caution, care, or planning. Was there a god of planning? Athena, possibly? If that could possibly be referring to me, the fourth line made sense in a pairing, but I didn't think it made sense overall. Nike was also a servant of Athena, but she had gone back to Olympus after the Parthenos had been returned. That didn't make a lot of sense to me, either.

I couldn't think of anything else, and a lot of my mythological knowledge was rusty, so I did what any good researcher would do and turned to Google.

Forethought Greek mythology, I searched. The first article that popped up was one about the Titan Prometheus, who sometimes symbolized forethought.

"Prometheus' apprentice," I mumbled to myself as I typed that into the search bar. The page yielded a name immediately.

Dolus.

I scanned the first article quickly, and it confirmed exactly what I feared. Dolus was the spirit of deception, guile, and deceit. He was the apprentice to Prometheus before he gave fire and clay to humans.

The messenger's son deceived, a trap for the spirit of deceit is weaved.

That sounded like it had to be right, but Phillip said he was approached by a woman. It's possible Dolus was posing as a woman, but just to be safe I typed a few more keywords into the search bar.

Dolus female didn't yield anything, so I tried spirit of deceit female mythology. The results were just as fruitful as my search for Prometheus' apprentice. A second name was generated.

Apate, the female counterpart to Dolus. Twin spirits.

Had I figured this out after only a few Google searches? What a fantastic tool. Why hadn't we used it more when I was at camp? Chiron always told us we had to rely on our own knowledge, and I think at one point someone Googled "gorgons" and summoned a hoard of them.

Despite this, I had one more search in mind, so I entered the information in and navigated to a page by the New York Public Library Archives. It was behind a paywall, but I could tell from the preview it was exactly what I was looking for. Luckily, I was a library member, so I hit the request button. The next page informed me that it would take up to a week to process my request.

I thought about Phillip's gaunt face and the angry cursemark on his arm. I didn't think we had a week to wait. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, hitting the dial button immediately when I found who I was looking for.

"Hello?" My long time friend answered.

"Hey, Marshall," I smiled into the phone. "It's Annabeth."

"Hey, it's good to hear from you," he exclaimed. "Why did I hear that you ditched Kennedy and Elliot's party on Friday?"

"It's a long story." Internally I laughed at my two worlds colliding like this. Marshall was a library clerk whom I'd met when I first moved to New York after college. He was also a horrible gossip, like the rest of New York. "Listen, I'm sorry to ask but I need a favor."

I filled Marshall in on my document request and he was happy to help, telling me he could have it pulled in an hour or two. The physical copy would be available at the library. I thanked him and hung up.

I had one more call to make, and I was nearly vibrating out of my chair at this point. Percy had written his number down on a piece of paper for me, so I typed it into my phone.

"Hello?" he answered, more suspicion in his voice than Marshall. It occurred to me that he might not have my number anymore, especially since I changed it a few days ago.

"Hey, it's Annabeth," I said, almost nervously. I didn't know why this felt so high school. I remembered when we were thirteen, and Percy sent me an Iris message just to talk and check in for the first time. I'd sat there picking at my cuticles the entire time, trying not to say something dumb and wondering if we were going to make that a regular thing. At the time, the thought of Percy calling me just to check in had made my heart run a full marathon.

"Oh, Annabeth, hey," he said, and his tone sounded similar to mine. I could almost see him running his fingers through his hair on the other end of the line. "I'm kind of surprised you called," he admitted.

I decided not to recap my morning with Rachel, I'm sure he would hear about it eventually, so I jumped straight to the point.

"I think I have a lead on the curse mark," I informed him.

"Oh, right, that," he sounded a bit confused, and I wondered what else he had been thinking about.

"Can you get Cara and Phillip and meet me at the library as soon as you can?"

He agreed and we hung up. I grabbed my handbag—and knife—and ran out the door.