Our arrival in Rome occurred without much fanfare, thank the gods. The last thing we needed was mortals screaming about the end of the world and causing a mass panic before the twins' fireworks performance.

Percy had yet to lose his sucker punched expression after the whole Chrysaor situation despite his quick thinking having saved the day. I also got to act as a poltergeist, suddenly appearing from Chrysaor's shadow when he said there was no god aboard the Argo II. I guess he's technically right. I'm a goddess, after all.

Upon landing, plans and groups were made with the intention of meeting up by three to find Nico and the giants. Thanks to sharing pieces of Hades' domain, I could sense Nico's presence within the city. But between so many people and the plethora of mythological beings who'd never left Rome after its fall, I couldn't pinpoint his location.

Thank God I'm from a different universe and know he's under the Colosseum.

It sucked I couldn't say anything about it, though.

I'd intended to remain with Jason, Piper, and Coach Hedge on the Argo II until it was go time. Hazel, Leo, and Frank had reached that standard quest maximum of three companions, so it's not like I'd planned on joining them. Plus, a goddess alongside three powerful demigods didn't exactly scream subtle. As for Annabeth and Percy, I had no intention of being their third wheel in what was probably the tensest date they'd ever go on.

Turns out I didn't have much say in the matter as they each grabbed one of my wrists and begged me to come along.

I didn't put up a fight.

"You've been to Rome before, right?" Percy asked as we walked toward the Colosseum.

"A couple of times, yeah," I said. "I've only ever come during missions, though, so I don't know much of the city. I know a lot of places where Lares like to congregate and where to find high quality ingredients for some potions, though."

"That's so highly specific."

I sighed. "I'm aware of that. The good news is that I can sense the Tiber from here." I jabbed my thumb to the west. "It's about a four-mile walk that way."

"Oh, goody," Annabeth said, face ashen as she gripped the straps of her backpack.

"If I remember correctly, there's a bunch of nice restaurants by the river bank. Lunch is on me."

I made sure to keep a few feet behind the couple, giving them their privacy despite traveling in a group.

Annabeth commented on the architecture of the buildings and monuments we passed by. Percy commented about the glaring Lares from various apartment complexes and a woman in a white robe holding a knife.

There are truly two types of people in this world.

Knowing our time would be limited once we reached the restaurant, I stopped our group in a public park and gestured for Percy and Annabeth to take a seat on an empty bench. There were people flying kites, having picnics, tossing around a frisbee, and gods knows what else in the grass. Fountains sporadically dotted the perimeter, filling the air with the gentle sound of babbling water. Today was an absolutely gorgeous day (and Jason's birthday), but the heavy mood ruined all of it.

Percy had an arm over Annabeth's shoulders, pulling her close. She had her head tucked into the crook of his neck, eyes screwed shut, breathing deeply.

"Kiddo," I said, watching as Annabeth opened her eyes. "I know that this entire situation sucks, but I hope you know I'm so proud of you."

"I haven't even found the statue. There's nothing to be proud of," Annabeth mumbled.

"I have every bit of confidence in you, Annabeth Chase. You will be the first child of Athena to avenge your mother and recover her stature. That's a fact."

"Andy's right, wise girl," Percy said, pressing a kiss to Annabeth's forehead. "I learned a long time ago to never bet against you. You're going to do great."

"I'd feel more confident if I had some cool demigod power. Wisdom will only get me so far."

"Hey, intelligence trumps power any day of the week, in my opinion. And don't forget about that bracelet I gave you. You have it for a reason, kiddo," I reminded her. "Still, what kind of mother/big sister figure would I be if I didn't leave you with all the tools you need to succeed?"

Annabeth's eyes widened. "Don't you dare give me another high powered charm. I'm scared to use the bracelet as is. The last thing I need is to accidentally set the statue on fire because of my inexperience."

"No, no, it's nothing like that." I reached into my bag, my fingers curling around the small first-aid kit. It was smaller than Daedalus' laptop, so it should fit perfectly within her backpack. "This is a first aid kit from Apollo's infirmary. It shares a similar enchantment to Leo's tool belt. So long as it's some kind of medical supply, you'll be able to summon it from the kit. Braces, painkillers, an endless supply of gauze, et cetera. Heck, I've managed to get a pair of crutches out of those things when my friend broke his ankle playing soccer."

Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

Was part of me relieved when I didn't spew green smoke? Very much yes.

I guess it helped that I told the truth. Pete had broken his ankle during a friendly soccer game for some student organization, and I had pulled crutches out of the first aid kit. Looks like the Oracle couldn't do jack so long as I kept my mouth shut about the future.

"Andy, I can't take this from you. It's too much," Annabeth said, trying to return the kit to my hands. "What about Nico? He's probably going to need this once you find him."

"That's what the sickbay is for," Percy said, gently nudging the kit back into Annabeth's grasp. "I'd feel better if you had more than just a baggie of ambrosia down there in case you got hurt."

"What he said," I agreed. "Better safe than sorry. God knows how unstable the Roman underground is."

Between Percy and me, it seemed we had convinced Annabeth as she unzipped her backpack and slid the first aid kit in. She then looked at me and raised an eyebrow, saying, "Is there anything else you're dying to give me, or can I zip up my bag?"

"One last thing. Here ya go."

She caught the headlamp and turned it around in her hand. "You know, not packing this was an oversight on my part. Thanks."

"Any time, kiddo. That headlamp has a battery life of seventy-two hours, so it should last you more than enough time down there."

"We don't tell you this enough, Andy, but you're awesome," Percy said, visibly grateful.

Annabeth vehemently nodded her head. "Hands down the best goddess in existence."

My face burned as I smiled to myself.

"Hush, I prefer you both intact," I laughed. "Well, the Tiber is just over that hill. Here's 300 euros for lunch. Have a nice lunch date you two."

"Wait, you're not coming any further?" Percy asked.

"I thought you would've wanted to spend these last few hours together. No need for me to third wheel, right?"

"I guess."

Neither teen seemed all too happy about that, making them the strangest teenagers in existence. Literally, any other couple would jump at the chance to have a nice lunch on the bank of the Tiber without adult supervision.

I gave Annabeth a fierce hug which she promptly returned, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt for all she was worth. I caressed her hair and held her until she pulled away, shakily exhaling as she did.

She and Percy turned away, holding each other's hands as they walked toward the hill.

Right as they were about to cross over the hill's peak, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, "You've got this, kiddo! Kick some ass!"

Annabeth lifted a fist in the air.

They faded from view, heading off to what would probably be the most stressful lunch date of all time.

I returned to the Argo II in somewhat of a frantic manner, barely remembering to leave Jason's birthday present on his bed before finishing going through my mental checklist. The clock in my mind burned against the back of my eyelids with each passing second. I dreaded our rapidly approaching meeting time, my palms growing sweaty at the thought of what awaited me by day's end.

I lost track of how many times I rummaged through my bag, taking inventory of my supplies. Medical supplies, carefully brewed potions, the books that dictated this very reality…check, all accounted for.

As my fingers skimmed over the thick blanket that had survived my first trip to Tartarus, something else in my bag burned red hot. I yanked my hand free, swearing under my breath as I took note of the keyhole seared into the back of my hand.

Ouchy.

I forgot how much of a nuisance it is to get burned.

It didn't take long to find the source of the scalding metal. I removed the small, wooden, black box with a golden lock from my bag. The Fates had given me the box the day Zeus turned me into a goddess but didn't say much about its contents, until recently. Salina had been the one to entrust the box to the Fates, but no one had thought to give me a key to the darn thing.

However, according to the Fates, this would help me save Luke.

I'd tried picking the lock a few times in the days after receiving the mysterious package. My lock-picking tools had turned to goo with each trial, turning into a puddle of stinky, molten metal that reminded me of Hephaestus' automaton prototypes gone horribly wrong. After having repaired my tools for the fifth time, I decided to leave the box alone until the time was right.

Almost a year later, here we are.

I still lacked the key, though.

The box itself was pretty nondescript: six inches by three inches by three inches of unmarred ebony wood held shut by a stereotypical gold lock you'd find on one of those Justice journals with your initial on the cover.

God, the amount of those blasted miniature keys I'd found in Mrs. Stetson's when having to turn over rooms after someone got adopted. She had a jar full of them in her office, never having the heart to get rid of them in case one of them turned out to be the duplicate for someone under her care.

While many of the older girls in the home liked to journal, I knew better. After Rebecca's incident with Holly and Carol at school and the countless diaries and notebooks flushed down the toilet or thrown in the fireplace thanks to Kathleen and her lackeys, I made the executive decision to keep my thoughts to myself and out of any tangible thing that could be ruined or used against me at a later date.

However, I knew someone in this universe who used to journal like her sanity depended on it.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, searching for a very specific key in my possession.

The key to unlock Cleo's diary.

It was a perfect fit.

Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I turned the key. The lock popped open with a soft click. I wasted no time in yanking the damn lock off and throwing it who knows where. I lifted the lid and suppressed the urge to throw its contents overboard and let it sink to the bottom of the Mediterranean.

Salina never meant to hurt me, I knew that, but it still felt like a slap in the face.

How long had she had this prepared? Why didn't she say anything earlier?

I took a deep breath and removed my bracelet from my wrist.

After all, I had a new charm to add to my collection.

I cut my visit to the Argo II short and spent the next few hours by the Trevi Fountain. I had no intention on third-wheeling on Jason's birthday date with Piper, and I most definitely wasn't in the mood to deal with Coach Hedge hounding me about future baseball scores. There's a reason betting on mortal sports was banned at Camp Half-Blood.

Tourists flocked by the dozens to the iconic fountain, wiggling their way to the front of the crowd in an attempt to get a picture without some random person in the background. Children gathered at the fountain's edge to throw coins, a wish associated with each one. Policemen lingered near the back, keeping a watchful gaze should anyone decide to plunge themselves into the protected site.

Exhaling deeply, I popped in an earbud and began the twenty-minute walk to the Old Forum. No need to rush toward a drowning experience and an inevitable nine-day fall any faster than necessary.

I let the others know I was en route via charm network, fiddling with my bracelet the whole way there.

I quickly realized that Fall Out Boy's "Young Volcanoes" wasn't the correct song choice at the moment. It was never a good omen when the opening line to a song is "When Rome's in ruins" and that's the exact thing you're trying to prevent.

After an absolutely thrilling encounter with nine vengeful nymphs and slick, oily water that I couldn't protect my friends from, we crawled out of the nymphaeum through a drainage tunnel. The narrow part of the tunnel went on for thirty feet before widening, allowing for rumbling and creaking sounds to fill the silence.

Percy took the lead, crawled ahead, and held up his hand, signaling us to wait. He peeked around the corner.

"What is it?" Piper whispered.

There's no easy way of explaining this, Percy said, gesturing for us to come forward and take a look.

The creaking and rumbling came from huge gears and pulley systems that raised and lowered sections of the floor for no apparent reason. Water flowed through open trenches, powering waterwheels that turned some of the machines. Other machines were connected to huge hamster wheels with hellhounds inside. If that had been Mrs. O'Leary trapped in the hamster wheel, she would've been absolutely miserable. The thought alone made my blood boil.

Suspended from the ceiling were cages of live animals – a lion, several zebras, a whole pack of hyenas, and even an eight-headed hydra. Ancient-looking bronze and leather conveyor belts trundled along with stacks of weapons and armor, resembling the Amazons' warehouse in Seattle, except this place lacked the modernity and organization of the warrior women.

About twenty feet inside the doorway, a life-size wooden cutout of a gladiator popped up from the floor. It clicked and whirred along a conveyor belt, got hooked on a rope, and ascended through a slot in the roof.

Jason murmured, "What the heck?"

We stepped inside. I scanned the room. Reading about the chaos I'd walk into wasn't the same as experiencing it firsthand. However, having ADHD made the chaos somewhat bearable. Having Ares, Artemis, and Athena's situational awareness training definitely didn't hurt either. You learned to pay attention to the tiniest of movements if it meant keeping your head attached to your neck.

About a hundred yards away, I spotted a raised dais with two empty oversized praetor chairs. Standing between them was a bronze jar big enough to hold a person.

"Look," Percy said, pointing it out to us.

Piper frowned. "That's too easy."

"Of course."

"But we have no choice," Jason said. "We've got to save Nico."

"Yeah." Percy started moving across the room, picking his way around conveyor belts and moving platforms.

The hellhounds in the hamster wheels paid us no attention. They were too busy running and panting, their red eyes glowing like headlights. The animals in the other cages gave them bored looks, as if to say, I'd kill you, but it would take too much energy.

The sight of the bronze jar taunted us. I wanted to cut across this God forsaken, pathetic excuse of a circus storage room. If I so much as nudged a shadow or tried to dissolve into mist, it was like a sledgehammer to the temples. A part of me debated shooting a C4-tipped arrow from here at the jar, if only to shatter the glass and give Nico fresh air.

No sooner had we jumped over a water trench and ducked under a row of caged wolves did the ceiling open over us. A platform lowered. Standing on it like an actor, with one hand raised and his head held high, was the purple-haired giant Ephialtes.

What was it with these giants and dyeing their hair like someone going through a major identity crisis?

Ephialtes was just as painful to look at as the illustrations in my book depicted. He was small by giant standards – about twelve feet tall – but he had tried to make up for it with his loud outfit. He wore a Hawaiian shirt that even Mr. D would've found vulgar. It had a garish print made up of dying heroes, horrible tortures, and lions eating slaves in the Colosseum. The giant's hair was braided with gold and silver coins. He had a ten-foot spear strapped to his back, which wasn't a good fashion statement with the shirt. He wore bright white jeans and leather sandals on what would've been his feet had they not been replaced with curved snakeheads. The snakes flicked their tongues and writhed as if they didn't appreciate holding up the weight of a giant.

Ephialtes smiled at us like he was really, really pleased to see us.

"At last!" he bellowed. "So very happy! Honestly, I didn't think you'd make it past the nymphs, but it's so much better that you did. Much more entertaining. You're just in time for the main event!"

Jason and Piper closed ranks on either side of Percy. I stood in front of the trio, Epithymia tightly gripped in my hand. I didn't like the way Ephialtes's eyes danced with a crazy light.

"You demigods even brought us a nice surprise!" Ephialtes cheered, giddy with joy. "Bringing this goddess to her demise will win us much favor with Mother!"

"If I had a denarii for every time I heard that," I scoffed. "Look, let's make things easy. Release Nico di Angelo and I might consider making your return to Tartarus less painful."

"Of course! Though I fear he's a bit past his expiration date. Otis, where are you?"

A stone's throw away, the floor opened, and the other giant rose on a platform.

"Otis, finally!" his brother cried with glee. "You're not dressed the same as me! You're…" Ephialtes's expression turned to horror. "What are you wearing?"

Otis looked like the world's largest, grumpiest ballet dancer. He wore a skin-tight baby-blue leotard that left little to the imagination. The toes of his massive dancing slippers were cut away so that his snakes could protrude. A diamond tiara was nestled in his green, firecracker-braided hair. He looked glum and miserably uncomfortable but managed a dancer's bow which couldn't have been easy with snake feet and a huge spear strapped to his back.

Needless to say, the sight had me wanting to gouge my eyes out.

"Gods and Titans!" Ephialtes yelled. "It's showtime! What are you thinking?"

"I didn't want to wear the gladiator outfit," Otis complained. "I still think a ballet would be perfect, you know, while Armageddon is going on." He raised his eyebrows hopefully in our direction. "I have some extra costumes-"

"No!" Ephialtes snapped, which would probably be the first and last time we agreed on something.

The purple-haired giant faced us. He grinned so painfully, he looked like he was being electrocuted.

"Please excuse my brother," he said. "His stage performance is awful, and he has no sense of style."

"Okay," Percy said. "Now, about our friend."

"Oh, him," Ephialtes sneered. "We were going to let him finish dying in public, but he has no entertainment value. He's spent days curled up sleeping. What sort of spectacle is that? Otis, tip over the jar."

Otis trudged over to the dais, stopping occasionally to do a plié. He knocked over the jar, the lid popped off, and Nico di Angelo spilled out. The sight of his deathly pale face and gaunt frame made my heart stop. I could barely feel his aura as it flickered like a dying candle.

I breathed an internal sigh of relief as I felt the weight of the Fates lift off my shoulders.

Keep their attention off of Nico and me, I warned my friends through our shared charms. I have a plan.

Good luck! Piper said.

While Ephialtes ranted about the formation of their new hypogeum, I made quick work of dissolving into my own shadow the second the pair of brothers turned their attention elsewhere. One jump brought me to Nico's side, the second jump took the pair of us to the Argo II.

"Coach! Get us to the Colosseum!" I shouted, kicking open the door to the infirmary.

"Can I man the ballistae?" Hedge asked.

"YES!"

"WAH-HOOOO!"

Oh boy, what have I unleashed onto this world?

Italy, please forgive me.

Nico groaned as I set him in a cot. His lips and fingertips were tinged blue. The rest of his skin made copy paper seem tan in comparison. Dark circles hung under his eyes. His clothes loosely dangled from his frame. I kept my touch feather light as I inserted an IV, his bones prominent under his taut skin. I propped his head upright with a pillow and tried to force feed him some unicorn draught.

This situation reminded me too much of the car accident incident for my liking.

Within the next two minutes, I sensed Nico's aura strengthen. He furrowed his eyebrows together, and his lips pulled into a slight frown. He started to mumble. At first, it was quiet gibberish until it sounded like there were two people speaking at once.

Andy, we need some godly backup! Jason shouted.

Backup's on the way, I promised, charming some healing water around Nico's forehead in the meantime. Five more minutes, tops. If no one shows up by then, I'll be there.

We'll keep you posted, Piper said. You focus on Nico for now.

Nico slowly opened his eyes, dazed and confused. He scanned the ceiling. He then took a sharp inhale and scrambled into a sitting position, but his body was so weak that he collapsed into a boneless heap in the cot.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," I said, slowly lowering him back down. "You're on the Argo II."

"A-An?" he tried, devolving into a coughing fit.

"I'm here. Here, drink this."

Nico took small sips of water. His lips were cracked to the verge of bleeding if he so much as nudged the fragile tissue. He managed to drink half the glass before he released an anguished cry, hands flying to grip his hair. I didn't have the chance to ask what had happened as he arched his back and screamed bloody murder, clawing at his face.

"Too much," he cried, thrashing about. "IT'S TOO MUCH!"

Hades forgive me for this.

I whirled around for the syringe full of midazolam and lined it up with Nico's IV. He jerked his hand and slapped the sedative from my grasp.

He gripped my wrist with a bone-crushing force that shouldn't have been possible with the amount of muscle atrophy he'd undergone. His eyes…God, his eyes. It was like staring into the void with the knowledge of all the horrible things hidden behind the thin veil between this reality and the next. Worse yet, his irises had become heterochromatic, blue splotches unevenly distributed through what used to be deep brown.

I recognized that shade of blue.

"Help," Nico gasped, unable to catch his breath, "us."

The manic burst of strength faded. His arm went slack, falling limply by his side.

Mr. D is our backup?! Percy exclaimed.

I know, I know. He does know his way around a thyrsus, though.

A what?!

Not the time! Jason interjected.

Right, other things were more important than a pinecone on a stick.

The newest charm on my bracelet gave a faint glow.

Looks like it's time to fulfill this part of the prophecy.

Happy Easter to those who celebrate!