I'm back! This wasn't the longest wait time for a chapter, but it was close. Apologies to Hawaii, New Zealand, and pretty much the entirety of the South Pacific, but I was still at the research stage for Polynesian mythology when I realized that I was going to have basically no time or motivation to write for the next few months; I write slowly and need to be fairly non-stressed to write fiction, and between work, buying a house, and moving, the next few months are not going to be productive in the writing sense. If I wanted this chapter to get out this year I needed to get it out now.

The story is set in a vaguely early-2010s timeline. Russia has not yet occupied the Crimean peninsula. That being said, I'm sure I don't need to explain why there isn't a section in the chapter extolling the tourist attractions of Russia. All my sympathies to the people of Ukraine.

Arkhangelsk Oblast, Russia. March, two years after the Second Olympian War.

I jumped off the slow-moving train into a patch of snow that looked deeper than the surroundings. I waited tensely, but either my attempts at hiding myself with the Mist had succeeded or none of the train crew had been looking in my direction.

The Firebird wasn't great with human place names and Mrs. O'Leary couldn't shadow-walk us when I had no real idea where we were going, so I'd taken passenger trains as far as Arkhangelsk, on the White Sea, and then snuck onto a lumber train going in the right general direction to get as far into the taiga forest as it would take me. I waited until the train had chugged down the track and out of sight, then climbed out of the snow bank, brushed myself off, and headed deeper into the pine trees.

When I could no longer hear the train, I unstrapped the water-filled mailing tube from my backpack, pulled out a very soggy, slightly crumpled orange feather, and stripped away the water it was soaked in. It quickly began glowing, and then burst completely into flames once again.

I waved the feather over my head for hopefully the final time today and blew the whistle around my neck. Mrs. O'Leary popped out of the shadows, hauling along her dog food and the rest of my camping gear, seconds before the Firebird soared overhead to light up the shady forest.

"Are we near the right place?"

Not yet. You are closer than you were in the city, but we have at least a day's travel before we reach the new location of the River of Fire. The witch's hut will lie another long walk beyond the river.

I shrugged as I heaved up the large pack and clambered on top of Mrs. O'Leary's broad back. "We'd better get moving, then."

The Firebird flitted from tree branch to tree branch ahead of me as Mrs. O'Leary and I bounded east. Fortunately, my dog seemed happy to follow the bird rather than run off to chase rabbits or something. The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, until the sun began to set and the Firebird abruptly backwinged and flapped back towards me.

I forgot about him, she hissed. Hide, or Granny Horror will know you are coming.

She darted off, trailing sparks that died before they hit the snow, and was out of sight in seconds. I blinked after her, but herded Mrs. O'Leary into the growing shadows and stuffed the glowing feather back into its carrier before finding a thicker grove of trees to hide in.

I had barely gotten under cover when I heard the chug of an engine from the direction we were headed. I soon saw a black and silver snowmobile being maneuvered through the pine trees by a rider in a black snow suit and helmet. As soon as he'd passed my little grove of trees, what little light was still reaching the forest floor faded away.

I looked after him for a long minute, then shook my head and called the animals back.

It took a while for the Firebird to come this time, long enough for Mrs. O'Leary to scarf down her food and go back to the ship and her dog bed. I was setting up my tent, with the feather stuck in the middle of the thicket of trees to substitute for the campfire I wasn't going to build, when I saw her light coming towards me and picked it back up.

Did you hide?

"Yeah. I'm guessing that's your version of Nyx? Your night-god?"

Yes. He and his brothers are close to the witch, and report to her about travelers in the woods.

"And, let me guess. His brothers are Day and Dawn?"

She nodded, and I relaxed a bit at the further confirmation that I was heading in the right direction.

The Firebird soon left for the evening, either to go back to the Firefly with Mrs. O'Leary or to raid other fruit trees if she was getting tired of apples, I didn't ask which. I set a pot of soup up to heat over the feather and settled back against a log, staring out into the forest and enjoying being somewhere completely new. I loved the Firefly, but this was the first night I'd spent off it since New Year's and the change was nice. I'd have to go camping more often.

...aaand now there were a dozen golden eyes glistening at me from outside my small cluster of trees. I sighed, remembering exactly why staying the night outside of an environment I controlled was usually more annoying than it was worth. "I'm not looking for any trouble. I'd rather not have to fight anyone tonight."

After a short silence, a large shadow detached itself from the woods and stepped closer, resolving into an enormous lanky man in hide clothing with a moss-covered beard stretching down to his waist. The eyes turned out to belong to a small pack of wolves trotting at his feet.

He studied me and my camp for a minute, giving particular attention to the half-full sack of dog food and my makeshift campfire, and when he spoke his voice was deep and echoing.

"Seek the bird you stole that feather from elsewhere. I do not give you leave to hunt in my woods."

I raised my eyebrows. "Um… the feather was a gift, actually. The Firebird's gone to get something to eat but she'll be here tomorrow."

The probably-a-local-forest-spirit blinked. After a pause, he asked, "Then what brings you to my woods?"

"Baba Yaga horse-napped my pegasus friend Blackjack. I'm getting him back. Am I heading in the right direction?" I watched the creature warily as he thought about it.

"Possibly," he said slowly. "The river to the east of here caught fire a couple of months ago. It's not the first time that's happened, but it usually takes an oil spill first. I hadn't heard she was back, but I don't get much news out here and I suppose it's been long enough."

This guy probably wasn't a friend of hers, at least, if he didn't know she was around. I gestured towards the soup. "Would you like to join me for dinner? I'd love to hear more about the area. I'm Percy Jackson, by the way. "

"I am the Leshy of these woods," He said, looking at me contemplatively, then finally nodded and said, "and I accept your hospitality, Percy Jackson."

As the soup started bubbling and I served it up, I asked, "Is there anything you can tell me about what I'll be going up against? I'm not from around here, and I know Baba Yaga's name but not much else. My teachers were worried about a different mythology."

He took the bowl— I only had the one, and was using the soup can as a dish— and started eating as I spread the dog food out in front of his wolves, who all took a few bites before leaving it alone in disinterest.

"Well," the Leshy said thoughtfully— I was beginning to get the idea that he didn't speak any other way— "she's a stingy old witch. A young girl once asked to light her own candle at Baba Yaga's fire, and she made the girl do her chores for days to pay for the light. She's not going to let your horse go willingly."

"Can you tell me what I'd be up against if I have to fight her?"

"She's never been killed on her own lands, only outside of them," he said, "and many have tried. She just heals anything they do, and if she has a weakness while she's at home I don't know it. Apart from that… she has the strength of a dozen men, enchants objects, can control the daylight and darkness if she talks to the Riders… all of the usual witch powers, I suppose."

"Usual. Sure." I could probably think about it like fighting an invulnerable child of Hecate. So, basically, like going up against Circe again, and Annabeth wasn't with me this time. I decided to check, "Is she known for poisoning people at all? Or transformations, turning people to guinea pigs, that sort of thing?"

He looked at me oddly. "She will eat you, if you give her the chance. Poisoning or transforming you would be a waste of human meat."

It said something about my life that hearing that was a relief.

As we ate, he elaborated on the story of the girl he'd mentioned, Vasilisa. Her evil stepmother had sent her to Baba Yaga to light her candle, but she had been protected by the blessing of her dead mother during the days she had spent working for Baba Yaga. I didn't qualify for the 'dead-mother's-blessing' thing, fortunately, so I'd have to figure something else out when I got there.

When we were finished, the Leshy said "I wish you good fortune in rescuing your friend" and got up to leave. I waved good-by as he and his wolves faded back into the forest, then started to clean up and get ready for bed.

The sun the next morning was announced by another snowmobile rider, this one dressed in white and grey with a white snowmobile, and lunchtime found me avoiding a third one in red and gold. True to Rachel's prophecy, I'd had to pass both Dawn and Day before I got where I actually needed to be.

"I'm guessing this is the river," I said, squinting to see the far banks. I didn't have a phone signal out here and wouldn't have risked alerting Baba Yaga by using it anyway, but I'd downloaded a map before setting on the trip and a river this large wasn't on it. I figured it must have been magically expanded or something.

Oh, and it was made of fire. That was also a clue.

Yes. I cannot accompany you any farther if you desire to keep your presence secret, the Firebird said. Granny Horror will know if I enter her territory.

"This is far enough," I said as I knelt by the river and stuck my hand in experimentally. "Thank you. I'll let you know how it goes."

…I hope so. Good luck, Percy Jackson.

She flew away.

When she was gone I stood, taking a handful of the… firewater with me. The liquid was glowing red-hot, like lava but more fluid. It only felt pleasantly warm to me, but the color wasn't for show— a few drops that fell on the ground hissed through the snow and set the dead grass on fire before I could smother it.

I could have controlled the water, the way I had with the black water in the nymph's shrine in Rome, but it would have taken just as much effort as it had back thenm, and I didn't actually need to to get across. I made sure my pack was secure— this would be a bad place to drop something— and started walking across the surface of the river.

The forest started up again on the far bank, but with taller trees and deeper shadows. It felt ancient and primeval, in a way the forest on the other side of the river just hadn't been. I moved up to the forest edge cautiously, using all of the stealth skills I'd gotten from years of Capture the Flag, but relaxed a bit when I wasn't immediately accosted by any old ladies.

There was a snow-covered path cutting through the trees a bit farther in. I followed it, but stayed in the woods rather than leave footprints on the path. Half an hour later, I was glad I had when I heard the faint sound of galloping hoofbeats coming down the path from the way I was heading.

I stepped farther back, under the cover of the branches of a snow-laden pine tree, and watched a small herd run down the path. Not quite a herd of horses, but I recognized them— hippalektryons, the endangered chicken-ponies I'd last seen at the Triple G ranch.

On the plus side, two of them were young, one a filly with yellow down still covering her undeveloped wings and bottom chicken half, so killing Geryon had kept their eggs safe from being omelets. On the minus side, they were sweat-covered and panicked, running away from the cackling laughter echoing down the path behind them.

An old woman soared behind them, floating in what looked like an enormous version of my mom's kitchen mortar and propelling herself by pushing off against thin air with an equally large pestle. She was dressed in gray rags and had long, scraggly white hair and a necklace made of some kind of bone, and the light glinted off her wide smile in a way that looked almost metallic.

She passed me halfway up the trees, far too high to reach. I watched as she punted back the way I came and capped Riptide when she turned another bend in the path and went out of sight.

…I'd been hiking in the wrong direction. I sighed and turned back around.

About three hours later there was a break in the trees and I found a clearing the size of a football field, scattered with clumps of horses. There was a herd of pegasi near my end, a couple of groups of normal-looking horses trying to get at the dry grass under the snow a bit farther on, and a mixed herd of pegasi and the hippalektryons from earlier at the far end of the clearing near a large dilapidated stable. With a surge of relief, I saw Blackjack in the far group.

As I circled the pasture, I got more confused. He looked… fine. No visible injuries, nothing binding his wings, nothing that would stop him from just flying away.

"Blackjack," I hissed once I was as close as I could get without leaving the trees.

Boss! You came!

He pushed his way through the other horses, who followed behind him; I recognized the pegasi as the rest of the Black Sea herd that Blackjack had been traveling with. Blackjack came up to me and shoved his head against my chest in greeting hard enough to make me stagger back a step.

"Of course I came," I said as I began to run my hands over his wings to check for injuries. "What happened? Why are you still here?"

We got caught by the crazy lady and can't leave. When we tried to go past the river we just wound up flying back here. You've got to get us out of here!

"I will," I assured him. "Not sure how yet, it sounds like Baba Yaga is hard to kill when she's at home, but we'll come up with something. How often does she leave?"

Blackjack gave the impression of a shrug.

We were the last group to come in, until the chickens got here just now, so maybe every week or so?

We are not chickens!, a rooster-stallion with bright red feathers squawked, rearing back slightly on his claws and spreading his wings in challenge.

I'm calling it like I—

"Thanks, Blackjack," I said hastily, "and what about you guys? The last time I saw your herd you were in the Labyrinth— did Baba Yaga steal you from there, or did you get away from the Ranch yourself, Mr…?"

Foghorn, my lord, and thank you for killing Geryon, he said. The witch broke into the ranch two days ago. She was aiming for the stables, but the flesh-eaters bit her, and she diverted to our pasture. The entrance she found to the maze has already disappeared, and I do not think she will rustle the ranch again. I do not know what or where her next target will be."

We can ask the other herds, a roan pegasus mare— Nina, if I recalled correctly— suggested. They've been here longer.

"Sure," I said. "How about the other pegasus herd, how long have they been around?"

Nina paused and looked awkwardly back at the rest of her herd.

Ah, my lord…

They aren't pegasi, boss, Blackjack said. I didn't catch the name, but they're not Greek. None of the other horses are.

I blinked, and looked at the field again. Now that it had been pointed out, I could see it— the group on the far side of the field were shorter and stockier than the pegasi around me, with longer manes and tails and a shaggier coat.

All of the horses looked like they'd grouped up by mythology, actually. The Greek pegasi and hippalektryons were together around me, the other winged horses were in their own herd, what looked like an Arabian breed were huddled together for warmth off to the side, and a fourth type that looked as well-adjusted to the cold as the not-pegasi were grazing on snow-covered grass in a group in the center.

"Can we all still talk to each other?" I asked. I hadn't quite been able to understand the donkeys back in Morocco, and I wasn't sure if the 'speak to horses' power stretched as far as non-Greek, probably-magical horses.

We haven't had a problem, boss.

The pegasi spread out over the field, and soon Blackjack, Nina, Foghorn and I were joined in the trees by a representative from each of the other herds. The not-pegasus, a golden stallion named Khasar, turned out to be a Tulpar, a winged steppe horse from farther out east. The two normal-looking horses were both from magical breeds renowned for their speed. The Arabian representative was a dappled gray mare named Safanad who could 'run swifter than the wind', and the last horse was a palomino Russian stallion named Dima who could 'circle the world in a day'.

There was a reason the herds hadn't been mixing. The posturing over who was faster began immediately.

"So!" I broke into the growing argument, "Great to meet you all. I'm Percy, I'm an American demigod, I'm on a quest to get you all out of here, and I have a prophecy that says Baba Yaga needs to die for that to happen, but the Leshy in the neighboring woods told me she's kind of undying as long as she's in her territory. I'm open to suggestions on how to ambush her or lure her out of here."

The Russian, Dima, snorted and turned away from Safanad with a dismissive toss of his mane, focusing on me.

Baba Yaga leaves and returns nearly every day searching for more additions to our number, but without knowing her target it would be difficult to lie in wait for her. I am a descendant of the horses freed when the witch last died, and I can tell you how Prince Ivan managed it, but I will need your oath first.

I raised my eyebrows. "Why? What oath?"

I will tell you how to make Baba Yaga undo the binding on your friend, if you swear to me now that you will not simply fly away and leave us behind if the opportunity arises. Swear that you will free us all.

"I'm going to do that anyway, you know. This isn't necessary."

Swear it anyway.

I shrugged. Like I'd said, it didn't matter. "All right. I swear on the Styx, I won't leave you guys trapped here even if Blackjack and I get the chance to escape."

Thunder boomed overhead, and I winced. Hopefully that didn't raise any alerts.

Done! Then listen, Percy Jackson, as I tell you the tale of the mighty queen Marya Morevna, who bound and imprisoned Koschei the Deathless, and of her husband Ivan, who foolishly freed him…

An hour later, I followed the path through the woods to a second, much smaller clearing. At the center of the clearing there was a cottage raised about a story into the air by a pair of enormous chicken legs, one of which was scratching idly at the ground. The house was surrounded by a fence made of bones, with human skulls on spikes placed at even intervals on the fence.

"Cheerful," I muttered as I walked up to the waist-high front gate, which was using joints as hinges. One of the spikes bordering the gate had a skull; the other was empty. I raised my voice. "Hello? Anyone home? My name is Percy Jackson and I'm looking for Baba Yaga!"

There was a pregnant pause, and then the house turned so its open front door was facing me. Baba Yaga leaned out and in a slow, creaky voice said, "And here I'd thought the world had forgotten old Granny Horror. Why have you come to visit me, Percy Jackson?"

"I need a horse fit for a hero. They say you'll trade for work in your stables."

There was a pause, and then she said, "I have done that, yes. Do they also say what happens if you fail to take good care of my herds?"

"I'm not worried," I said.

"Ha! Down, hut! Open, gate! Let this brave young man in!" The hut knelt, and Baba Yaga stepped down the dangling stairs at the entrance and out to the gate, which clicked open. She was taller than me, and gaunt, almost emaciated. "And do you have prior experience as a stableboy? Who are your references?"

I blinked at her. "You're kidding."

She gave me a wide smile. From this close up I could see that her teeth ended in sharp points and were either covered or made of a shiny gray metal. "I'm certainly not going to train a new worker, Percy Jackson! If you're going to be taking care of my herds, you need to know what you're doing as soon as you step out of that gate!"

I was traveling the world to avoid job interviews. Blackjack had better appreciate this. "Well, I spent six summers at Camp Half-Blood, in the United States, from ages twelve to seventeen, and taking care of the camp stables was a major part of my chores. The reference would be…uh, Chiron the Centaur, I suppose— he's currently in charge of the camp… um, and I also worked briefly at the Triple G Ranch, back when it was still under Geryon. The management changed shortly after I finished cleaning their stables, but it was a big job and Eurytion should still remember me."

Baba Yaga nodded thoughtfully. "Good, good. Now, none of the horses are shod- if one of them cracked a hoof—

"What is your preferred method for treating colic—

"What would you do if a pregnant mare started giving birth, and you were the only human around—"

And finally, "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Far away from here, with one of your horses," I said flatly.

She cackled again, and said, "We'll see. Very well, here is the bargain, Percy Jackson. For three days, you will guard and tend to my horses. If the entire herd is present and accounted for at the end of each day, you may choose one horse from my herd as payment. If you lose any of them," and she peered down at me with another sharp smile, "then I will eat you, and your head will go on that empty post. Do you agree?"

I checked, "I pick one horse, and you'll let me leave your land with them safely?"

"If you get that far, yes. I'll escort you to the shore myself." Her smile widened.

"Then, yes, I agree."

We shook on it, and with that, she gave me a tour of the horse fields and stables, where everyone pretended they'd never seen me before and I pretended I couldn't understand the conversations going on around me. The rider on the black snowmobile passed us while we were hiking on the path back, waving as he passed, and the hut door swung open invitingly onto a well-lit room dominated by a large brick oven taking up most of the far wall.

I paused in the door before stepping over the threshold. All of the gossip I'd been getting from the locals said that Baba Yaga preferred to get some work out of people before she ate them. I was probably safe until our deal was over, one way or the other.

I was still glad to be invulnerable.

I dropped my backpack in the corner while Baba Yaga spread a large tablecloth on the wooden table that had been nailed to a side wall. Around us, everything that wasn't similarly bolted down shuddered and shifted as the kneeling hut got its feet back under it and rose into the air.

I wasn't seeing much of a pantry, so I offered, "I've got some canned and dried food with me if you'd like some."

She scoffed and looked down at the tablecloth. "Food and drink."

The table was immediately covered with a dozen different dishes, all smelling delicious. The centerpiece was a roast chicken, surrounded by beef stroganoff, blini, and several dishes I didn't know the name of but that were probably also Russian. "...Never mind. Nice tablecloth."

Baba Yaga started to pile food on the enormous platter in front of her, and gestured at the more normal-sized plate on the other side of the table. "Sit, eat! You're too skinny— nothing but skin and bones!"

I took some food from the dishes she had already sampled. It was all excellent, enough so that I let Baba Yaga push seconds on me to 'fatten me up'. I passed on the flask of vodka and stuck with the carafe of water and the tea and hot water from the samovar at the end of the table.

After dinner Baba Yaga returned all of the dishes to the center of the tablecloth with a 'thank you', and everything disappeared. She folded it up and stretched out on the brick top of the oven, the warmest part of the room, while I spread out my sleeping bag in the corner. With a whisper, the candles that had been lighting the room went out and the oven door swung shut on the softly glowing coals, leaving the room dark. The witch started snoring quickly, apparently dead to the world. I did not sleep well that night.

Baba Yaga began stirring before dawn, waking me out of a light doze. After another meal from the tablecloth in the morning, she let the hut kneel and shoved me out the door as the sun rose with a gleeful "remember our bargain!", before taking off in her mortar.

I went down to the pasture, where there wasn't a single horse in sight. Baba Yaga had relaxed her restrictions on the herd just to mess with me. For these three days, all of the horses would be able to travel as far away as their respective limbs could take them.

I took a deep breath and went into the run-down stables to do the job I had been hired for. I mucked out the stalls and put out feed and water and fresh hay, then fashioned the leftover clean hay into something comfortable enough to catch up on my sleep.

It was late afternoon when the horses began to trickle in. The hippalektryons were first— they couldn't fly as well or run as far as any of the others and had just been foraging elsewhere in Baba Yaga's land. I grabbed the grooming gear from the stables and had gotten through most of the flock by the time Blackjack and the rest of the pegasi flew in for their turns. The Russian herd came in third, as the sun began to reach towards the horizon, and Dima walked over to me with his ears flattened against his skull.

They're not back yet?

"They've got time."

Not much of it! Where are they? This isn't part of the plan!

"Plans can change. Do you want to go next?" I gave Blackjack's neck a rub and gestured at Dima with the currycomb.

Why are you so calm about this?!

"This was always a big ask," I said quietly, swapping the currycomb for a hoof pick and kneeling. He lifted a hoof automatically when I squeezed his fetlock. "The Greek horses trust me to get them out of here. You believe in your fairy tales. The others don't know me, might not care how this went last time, and might just want to run free instead of walking back into prison."

I got that. I'd have gone nuts if I was stuck here for weeks.

We are still trapped, Dima snapped. She's just made our leashes longer!

I shrugged, moving to the next hoof. "Prove it. It only takes one horse to decide they like their chances of outrunning Baba Yaga's magic better than your plan."

He pulled it out of my hands and backed up, nostrils flaring. This is not a game, Percy Jackson. Baba Yaga will happily kill you.

Hey, don't count us out so easily, Blackjack said. Boss can take the creepy lady.

"Thanks, Blackjack," I said as I stood back up. "Dima, don't worry about it. I'm okay with trying this the traditional way, but Plan B has always been to just fight her. We've got this."

…I wish I shared your confidence.

"Seriously, relax. Besides," and I pointed behind him, towards the east, where a wedge of flying horses had just dropped below the clouds, "we might get to do this your way after all."

I was grooming the Tulpar herd as Baba Yaga sailed over the treetops into the pasture, framed by the last rays of sunlight. Her smile dropped when she saw the horses around me, but started growing again as she did the headcount and came up fourteen short.

I reached into my pocket, fingering my pen, and then looked past Baba Yaga towards the edge of the clearing. As the sun set completely, I took my hand back out, empty.

"Well, Percy Jackson, I seem to be missing eight fine mares and six fine stallions. Where are my horses?"

We're right here, Safanad said as the fourteenth Arabian came out of the woods.

"They're right behind you," I said to keep acting like I couldn't hear the horses speak.

Baba Yaga whirled away from me and paused, probably counting them, then stalked over to Safanad and hissed, "Why are you back?"

Um…birds.

"Birds," she repeated flatly.

Yes, Safanad said with more confidence, birds. Thousands of them. Clawing at us and trying to peck out our eyes, until we turned around and came back. It was awful.

"Ah. You're one of those," Baba Yaga said sourly, turning back to me. "Let me guess, you rescue animals in trouble, if you see them?"

"Usually," I said.

"Feed them?"

"There was this hungry bird a few days ago…"

"Spare their lives when they're at your mercy, instead of eating them?"

"I guess?" I said. "I don't hunt for food much."

She scoffed and turned away towards the path to her hut, saying, "Finish up here. If you take too long I'll make you climb the hut legs to get inside."

Everyone waited until she was out of sight before the chatter broke out. Dima said accusingly, You cut that close.

Safanad flicked her tail dismissively at him, but gave me an apologetic look and said, We went south. The days are longer there, and we lost track of time. We will not race the sunset again.

"No harm done," I said. "Let me get your coats and hooves before you eat."

I got the remaining horses groomed and settled before heading back to the hut, where Baba Yaga was chowing through a meal as large as the one from last night. Her attitude was noticeably colder now that she wasn't going to be able to try to eat me for at least another day, and I didn't sleep any better that night than I had the one before.

She kicked me out at dawn again on my second day on the job, without the gloating this time. I remembered to bring my sleeping bag with me today, and napped until the horses wandered back with time to spare. Baba Yaga came back at the end of the day and took a cursory headcount, without showing any surprise that there were no horses missing.

"What was it this time?" she asked resignedly.

Lions, the Tulpar herd leader Khasar said cheerfully. Roaring and clawing. Everywhere.

"You can fly!"

…They were scary lions.

Baba Yaga made a strangled growl of frustration and stalked down the path. I watched until she was completely out of sight, told them, "She's gone," and ambled after her as the muffled snickers behind me turned into howls of laughter.

On the third day, I took all of my gear with me when I left the cabin. Night the Snowmobile Rider arrived with everyone present and accounted for, and Baba Yaga pinched the bridge of her nose as she asked, "And what drove you back here today?"

Sharks, Nina said.

Baba Yaga looked at me incredulously while I fought to keep my face straight, then turned back to Nina and asked, "Why were you even in the water?"

Foghorn then decided to jump in. Because the bees chased us there.

And the snakes, Blackjack added.

I decided I should probably cut this short before Baba Yaga caught on. It wasn't like I was supposed to know I was interrupting anyone. "Baba Yaga. All of the horses are here. Can I go?"

She looked like her magic tablecloth had served her a meal of lemons, but she said, "Yes, Percy Jackson. Your tasks are complete and you may select one of my horses as your payment."

"I choose him," I said, pointing to Blackjack.

"And as promised, I will take you to the edge of my lands and you may leave."

The horses' hidden laughter had died out by the time I grabbed my stuff from the stables and mounted. The herd watched in silence as Blackjack cantered off and Baba Yaga followed us. This was the turning point, and they knew it.

We covered the distance it had taken me hours to hike in less than half an hour, and Baba Yaga landed at the edge of the River of Fire and waved us on. Blackjack spread his wings and took to the air to soar low over the river, leaving Baba Yaga's land behind easily, with the spell restricting his movement at least theoretically gone.

I had Riptide out and ready to uncap, with my other hand wound tightly into Blackjack's mane. Baba Yaga had stuck to the letter of her agreement, but this whole plan sort of relied on her not sticking to the spirit. The problem was, she knew the patterns we had been mimicking better than we did— there was always the chance that she'd just write Blackjack off as a loss and let us leave. If she did, we'd be back to square one.

So it was a relief when, a few wingbeats later, we both heard the soft 'thud' of her pestle pushing off the ground. I ducked while Blackjack jerked right.

Hang on, boss!

Baba Yaga sailed overhead, scoring a glancing blow on my backpack but not managing to unseat me the way she had been clearly aiming for, and came to a stop a dozen feet above the river surface.

"So you're not letting me leave peacefully, then?" I yelled at her rhetorically, sword in hand, while Blackjack backwinged and made a sharp turn to avoid Baba Yaga's patch of air.

"Granny Horror keeps her promises, Percy Jackson! I did let you leave my land peacefully," she called back, her smile glinting in the firelight of the river, "but you didn't think I'd just let one of my horses fly away, did you?"

"Not really, no," I said, tapping Blackjack on the neck.

We were kind of counting on it, actually, Blackjack added smugly as he stopped trying to stay in the air and came in for a landing on the surface of the river.

Baba Yaga stretched out a hand in shock as she watched Blackjack apparently commit suicide. Her expression turned confused as he landed safely on the firewater, then dismayed again she realized that a) she didn't know how we were pulling this off and b) that we were between her and the shore.

She pushed off with her pestle, trying to send the mortar higher in the air, but it was too late. The tidal wave of firewater I had been focusing on ever since the glow had come into view surged downriver and washed over us all, sweeping her away while Blackjack focused on keeping his footing and I focused on keeping us dry and unaffected by the magic water.

After a few long breaths while the wave receded and the river settled, the glowing water began to dim until the only thing lighting it was the reflection of the rising moon. The banks came closer, going from a slow-moving river the width of the Mississippi to something barely larger than a stream.

I think that got her, boss.

"Yeah. Let's let everyone else know."

Blackjack took a running start down the stream to get into the air, rising high and fast now that we didn't need to keep Baba Yaga near the water's surface. The forest he soared over was thinner and less threatening, with moonlight that reached through shorter and younger trees to touch the stumps of the forest giants that had been cut down years ago.

We were met halfway by the rest, with the pegasus and Tulpar herds circling us and calling out congratulations and 'hey, you didn't die's and the ground-bound horses doing the same from below us, with the slower hippalektryons bringing up the rear and soaring into the air in shorter hops. We all went back to the largest clearing, now looking like it might have once been a logging camp, where Blackjack retold the short fight in lurid and somewhat exaggerated detail.

It was cold and the stables they had been staying in didn't exist anymore, so after some final thank-yous and suggestions that we visit if we were ever in their various homes, the Russian, Tulpar and Arabian herds left to travel back to wherever they'd been when Baba Yaga had horsenapped them. After waving them off, I asked Foghorn, "What will you do now? Are you staying out here, or heading back to the Ranch?"

Foghorn snorted and tossed his mane in rejection.

Eurytion was a kinder owner than Geryon, but he was still our owner. We will take our chances out here.

I nodded. "I'm glad. Good luck, and call if you need help. Either from me or any of the satyrs out in America, if you can't reach me."

Thank you, my lord. May you have safe travels.

The rooster-stallion trotted back to his herd and they merged into the wood, heading south. I said my good-byes to the pegasus herd and headed down the path to the smaller clearing to give Blackjack the space to say his own farewells in private. The bone fence was gone, thankfully, and so was the hut. There wasn't even the remnant of a repurposed structure, the way there had been for the ex-stables.

I cracked open my feather tube for the first time in days, and a few minutes later the Firebird soared over the treetops and settled next to me.

The river is gone! You did it!

"Yeah. We tricked her into freeing Blackjack and she left her territory to get him back. Thanks for your help in all of this."

She cocked her head and looked at the center of the clearing, where there was a hut-shaped patch and a series of clawmarks in the snow, the only sign that Baba Yaga had existed here at all.

What's that?

I walked over to see what had caught her attention. A heap of patterned cloth. "You're kidding. She left that?"

I picked it up and brushed it off— white, with blue patterns of dishes and glasses that shifted and danced in the flickering light coming off of the Firebird's body. "Best spoil of war ever."

If that is what I think it is, she did not leave it- it simply remained, because she did not create it as she did the rest of her territory, the Firebird said. She must have picked it up from somewhere, as she did the horses you rescued. I have not heard stories of the magic tablecloth for many decades- it may have been sitting forgotten on someone's shelf or warehouse until she discovered it.

I spread it out, picnic-blanket style, and said, "Food and drink."

The spread the tablecloth produced was just as bountiful as when Baba Yaga asked, though with more fresh fruit and plain grains available. The Firebird snagged a plum to munch on as she said, Take care of it well, and always be polite. If you insult the food it serves you, everything it makes for you thereafter will be burnt and too salty to eat. But if you thank it for the food when you are finished, and repair it quickly if it is ever torn, you will never again go hungry.

"Guess I'd better learn how to sew." I awkwardly served myself some stew and bread one—handed, before giving up and sticking the feather upright in the ground next to me. I hadn't eaten since some trail mix at lunch and was inhaling my meal when Blackjack came down the path.

…Boss, that bird is on fire.

I blinked. "Right, introductions. Blackjack, this is the Firebird. She let me know Baba Yaga was grabbing any horses she could find and guided me here. She'll be swinging by the ship for apples sometimes while we're in the area. Firebird, Blackjack."

The Firebird gave a chirp I assumed was a greeting before aiming for a bowl of cherries. Blackjack said, Thanks for the help, then, and nice to meet— are those doughnuts? Where did the picnic come from?

"Baba Yaga left her magic tablecloth behind when she disappeared. Some of the doughnuts are filled with meat, though— be careful. Firebird says it gets touchy if you don't like the food." I found the jam-filled ones and the plain dough balls and nudged them towards him, along with the cooked oats.

When we were finished, I gave a 'thanks for the food' to the tablecloth and the food and dirty dishes disappeared. Blackjack wanted to stretch his wings some more, so instead of setting up camp we took to the air again, heading back to the Black Sea, with the moonlight and the Firebird lighting our way.

Early January, five years after the end of the Second Olympian War

Of all of the shocks Jason Grace had gotten in the days since he'd appeared as an amnesiac in New York, this should have been the most minor, but as more and more memories of New Rome came back to him it was the one that stood out most— that Greek demigods didn't stick around. There were no older advisors beyond Chiron, no demigod college, no equivalent of the Senate. Leo and Piper were the two most senior counselors at Camp Half-blood, and they had both been planning to give their positions to a sibling even before it became clear they'd be questing in the coming summer. There were a few older Greek half-bloods scattered around the West and the large cluster that had recently formed in New York City, but no real intergenerational community.

Case in point: Percy Jackson, probably the closest thing to Jason's opposite number in the Greek camp— a child of one of the three sons of Ops, the leader of Camp Half-blood in the final days of the Titan War, and by all accounts a modern Achilles. But for Camp Half-blood, the formal leadership role had ended there. Where Jason had been hailed as Praetor and served the Twelfth Legion to the best of his abilities ever since, Percy Jackson had sailed away as soon as he was able.

Jason wasn't sure if he was jealous or repelled.

"So, wait, you're saying you can make ships fly," the young man in the Iris Message said, "and you never told me?"

"Why is that what you're focusing on?" Piper asked in exasperation from across the small fountain.

Leo, next to Piper, spoke over her to say "Oh, now you want to fly? What happened to 'oh no, Zeus will blast me out of the sky if I jump a bit too high'?"

"It's a sailing ship, this would have to be another exception—" Percy Jackson started to say, but then the Message cut off and his image disappeared.

Jason sighed. This was the third time; the Iris Messages didn't attract monsters the way his new cell phone did, but they also didn't last long enough to give the full story of their quest to rescue Juno, their parents' multiple personality disorder, and the upcoming Prophecy of the Seven.

It was Percy's turn to call back. It took him a bit longer than it had before, and when the Message came through he was standing, replaced in his hammock by his little sister. She giggled and reached out at them, and the hammock swung to counter her weight and stop her from falling out without Percy seeming to pay any attention.

"Why aren't you surprised to find out our parents have different aspects?" Jason asked, continuing Piper's train of thought.

"I kind of am," Percy said, "but some things make a lot more sense now, you know? I think I saw Artemis switch to your version a few months ago— black hair and a crown with a moon?"

"You met Diana?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, she was Artemis when she first boarded, then her hair changed color when she got angry about—" he hesitated. "— never mind."

"Wait, why was Artemis visiting—" Piper started to ask.

"So, prophecy! Let's talk about that before the drachma runs out," Percy said quickly.

Leo glanced at Piper, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged, and accepted the change in subject. He said, "Alright. Seven demigods are supposed to fight Mommy Earth, so we're assembling the Avengers. You in on this one?"

Percy rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. I've gotten my marching orders already, Dad swung by on my birthday. Let me know when you're getting ready to go to San Francisco and I'll meet you there."

It took Jason another beat to realize what that meant. Another difference— how much more involved the gods were. New Rome had Terminus, and Jason had quested for Bacchus that one time, but he'd still met more Olympians in the past few days than in the rest of his life combined. Bacchus worked here, as Dionysus. Every Greek demigod in the camp had been to Olympus, had met their divine parent at least once. Sometimes much more than once.

"I'll give you a call when I have a timeline, but if I get the entire cabin on it we'll definitely be ready by summer," Leo said.

"What are you doing about school?" Percy asked.

"'Family emergency'," Leo said, doing air-quotes. "Apparently sometimes that means 'gap semester with the possibility of a horrible death at the end'."

"Sounds good," Percy said. "Is there anything else I need to know right now?"

He waited for the headshakes, then said his good-byes, ending with, "It was good to meet you, Grace."

With a wave of his arm, the rainbow stopped on the far end, and the image disappeared. Jason looked at his new friends, who had visibly relaxed at Percy Jackson's easy acceptance of the quest. "Were you worried he'd say no?"

"A bit," Piper answered. "Percy's not even living in the country anymore. If he'd decided to sit this one out people probably wouldn't have blamed him, but it wouldn't have been great for morale."

"Or great for actually doing the quest," Leo said, starting to disassemble the misting attachment he'd put onto the fountain. "I don't know about you two, but if we're going to war with Mommy Earth, I want the guy who can solo armies with me."

Jason could see what Piper meant. It would be better to head that off, if he could. "You don't need to fight armies if you can build a ship that can fly over them, or Charmspeak them into putting down their weapons. Even if he couldn't have come along, we'd have managed."

The New Rome tactics courses were emphatic about that— no one could be irreplaceable. Graveyards were filled with the bones of indispensable men.

Leo shrugged. "Sure. Still glad he'll be on board."

Jason eyed him, but let it go for the moment. "Do you have anyone else you want to invite? We'll need to pick up some legionnaires from New Rome, but I don't think it matters too much if we have three Greeks and four Romans or vice versa."

Piper shook her head. "No-one who's free to come. And I'm not sure if we actually can invite people, not if Poseidon already told Percy he needed to join in. Maybe everyone else is going to be signed up by their parents too."

"Not in New Rome," Jason said sourly. "We don't see the gods much. Or at all."

Leo and Piper both looked at him in concern, and Jason added hastily, "So the augur will probably use the sacred chickens to pick out the rest of the team."

It worked. Leo repeated, "Sacred chickens?"

Jason nodded solemnly. "It's very important to have the approval of the chickens. If they don't like you, nothing is going to go well for your quest."

"You're kidding," Piper said flatly.

"Nope. That's not even the weirdest way to perform the auguries— before he went to law school, the last augur used to cut open teddy bears and read the future in the stuffing. The girl before him was a legacy of the West Wind and used the movement of the clouds, which was great for predicting the weather for the quest but not really whether or not it would be successful. She's a weatherwoman now, I think—"

As they headed back to the cabin complex for the morning inspection, Jason regaled them with the story of the many divination methods the augurs of New Rome had used to tell the future in his seventeen years at Camp Jupiter. Piper peeled off when they got to Cabin Ten, but instead of heading towards Cabin Nine across the field, Leo turned to Jason.

"We've all been there. Gods don't make great parents. Meeting Zeus… Jupiter, whatever, wouldn't suddenly make him Father of the Year."

Alright. They were doing this after all. "It'd be nice to have the chance."

"Having your father say he liked your steam-powered chicken-chucker years later doesn't make up for not being at the fifth-grade science fair."

Jason blinked. "Okay?"

Leo sighed. "Look, I'm just saying, don't get your hopes up. You might meet him in all this, and you might find out that he's been keeping an eye on you your entire life. That's not actually going to change anything. It'll still be an awkward talk with a guy you've never met before."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jason said stiffly as he turned towards the end of the field. Leo let him go this time.

After the Iris Message disappeared, I leaned against the mast under the apple branch, absently swinging a giggling Estelle in the hammock as I stared out over Sydney Harbor.

"I'm back," my mom called as she boarded.

I shook myself out of memories of war. "Did Paul get out okay?"

Since I couldn't go back to the US this year, my Christmas gift to my family had been a day-long plane ride with a three-year-old. Somehow, we were all still speaking to each other. Paul had needed to fly back for the start of the school semester, but Mom and Estelle would be sailing with me to New Zealand and flying home from there.

"Yes," Mom said cheerfully, before looking at me more closely. "Is everything all right?"

I hesitated for a minute, long enough for her smile to fade. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I finally sighed and said, "Can we talk?"

Mom knew more about what I'd been up to the last few years than the Camp Half-Blood crowd did. She'd worried about Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi, and worried more when I finally told her how it had ended and that I'd been told to stay away from the States. Now I filled her in on what we'd learned about the next Great Prophecy.

"...and if this goes badly, if we lose, it would be… bad," I said awkwardly, "but some places would probably deal with it better than others."

"What do you mean?" Mom asked. "If the earth is rising up against humanity, I don't think getting out of New York is going to help much."

I was guessing, mostly, but, "Gaia. Greek earth… and Roman earth, I guess… rising up against Western civilization. It'd probably be bad everywhere, we're all connected to each other, but outside of the West it probably wouldn't be… city-sized-sinkholes-under-New-York bad, or whatever her plan is."

"What are you suggesting?"

I thought for a second, then pinched together a small section of my necklace, the part knotted around the golden rice sheath, and asked it to remember that it had once been part of a river. The bit I pinched off flowed into its own small ring, leaving the now-slightly-shorter braid unbroken around my neck. I finally unhooked the small bronze mirror from the mast closest to the gangplank and handed them all to Mom.

"What are these?"

"Gifts from friends. India," as I pointed at the hair, "Japan," the rice, "and China," the mirror. "If things go bad… like, mythologically bad, and you needed help, they'd give you a hand. Toss the braid into the Ganges River, offer the rice at any shrine to Inari, or leave the mirror at a statue of Guan Yu."

Mom's eyebrows had been getting higher as I spoke. "You want us to leave?"

"Maybe?" I said. "If things look like they're getting weird, maybe summer vacation should be a bit farther away this year. You've still got the gold coins I left with you. They'd make a decent nest egg, no matter what happens to the dollar."

"How worried are you about this?"

Mom and Paul, asleep in a Prius for a full day while the Battle of Manhattan raged around them. Pandora's jar, appearing in the back seat of the car when things appeared most hopeless, when I'd be most tempted to open it.

I closed my eyes and breathed.

"Never mind," Mom said quietly.

"...if this thing with Gaia turns out fine, then all that happens is you'll have had a fun vacation and some notes for your next book," I finally said. Mom's second novel had just been accepted for publication, and she was using this trip to research the third. "You've been looking at my pictures for years, but it's not the same as being there."

She was silent for a minute, absently watching Estelle.

It wouldn't happen again. I let my voice drop, lower and slower, as I focused on convincing her.

"You've never seen the caves of Ellora in Aurangabad, each one a temple carved into the face of the cliffs. You've never watched the morning mist rising around the sandstone pillars of Wulingyuan. You've never heard the whispering of the wind in the bamboo forests of Arashiyama, or bought your food from the boats of the floating market of Srinagar. You could spend the summer—"

"All right," Mom said wryly, holding up a hand in surrender. "All right. I'll discuss it with Paul when we're home."

I relaxed. "You'll have fun."

She looked at the artifacts in her hands. "So that was… the Ganges River, Inari, and…?"

"Guan Yu."

"... let me write that down."

I followed her partway down the hatch. "Oh, and the mirror will always reflect something's true appearance, so you should use it to check people if you don't think you can see through the Mist… and if you lose the rice anywhere outside one of Inari's shrines, I'd need to get it reforged if I ever want kids, so don't lose it."

"What?"

"Gotta go, the munchkin's running away."

"Percy!"

Estelle had finally gotten bored with the hammock and was making a break for the gangplank, which gave me a convenient reason to avoid discussing my sex life with my mother. A trailing rope coiled around her and swung her, shrieking with laughter, into my arms. "Again!"

I dropped her and swung her around the mast like a tetherball, aiming for Mom, who was coming back up the ladder. Mom caught Estelle and hefted her, squirming, onto her hip. "Percy…"

I raised my hands defensively. "You asked if I was using protection, I said yes, do you really want details?"

She sighed. "Just… be careful. Please. About everything— we're going to come back this summer to find you waiting at home, got it?"

I smiled. "Sure, Mom."

It wasn't a promise I knew I could keep, and she knew that as well as I did. I made it anyway, and she smiled at me sadly.

They'd be safe, at least.

She took Estelle below deck. After a few minutes I looked down at the dock. "Nothing to say?"

"You're not doing yourself any favors. But you knew that," Ares said.

I bared my teeth at him. "It's not like any of you but Dad would care about what happens to them."

"Nah, not really," he said. "But if you want the gossip to die down, you should stop reminding everyone you've got friends on the other side. "

I took a deep breath, trying to let the anger from his words and presence pass through me. Ares didn't come by nearly as often as Guan Yu had— I think mostly just when he got bored enough that fighting me seemed like the most entertaining thing he could be doing— but it was often enough that I wasn't affected by his aura anymore unless he was either deliberately trying to use it or unless I was already mad. "Whatever. Are we doing this?"

He smirked and drew his sword with a 'come at me' gesture. He'd never come onto the Firefly, and I hadn't ever invited him aboard. I glanced across the docks— empty, fortunately, because Ares would think it was funny to get me on the news for fighting with him again— and jumped down to join him.

New York, February, Five-and-a-half years after the end of the Second Olympian War.

Annabeth blinked and looked again. Yes, that was her mother, and she was still reading a subway map.

The afternoon commuters at 34th and Herald eddied around Athena without noticing the goddess in her island of open space. She was dressed for a hike, with her long black hair pulled into a casual ponytail, a backpack on her back, and a walking stick in one hand.

"Mom? Were you waiting for me?" Annabeth asked as she stepped into the bubble of space. If Athena was here for her it would be a first, and there wasn't really any reason for her to; Annabeth had been making the trip to Olympus on her own ever since the gates re-opened.

"I must return home," Athena murmured dreamily, studying the map. "The way is complex. I wish Odysseus were here. He would understand."

Annabeth frowned. "Mom? Athena?"

"Athena?" The goddess turned and looked through Annabeth with no recognition. "Yes… that was my name. Before they sacked my city, took my identity, made me into this."

She looked at the plaid shirt she was wearing in disgust, before the expression faded and she turned back to the map. "I must return home."

A chill ran down Annabeth's spine. "You're Minerva."

"Do not call me that!" She whirled towards Annabeth and her familiar eyes flared with sudden, startling anger— terrifying, but better than that horrible blankness. "I used to carry a spear and a shield! I held victory in the palm of my hand! I was so much more than this."

"...Yes," Annabeth said soothingly, slowly stepping closer. "You still are. Do you recognize me, Mom? I'm Annabeth. Your daughter."

"My daughter…" Minerva— because Annabeth wouldn't, couldn't, call her Athena— repeated. "...yes, my children will avenge me. They must destroy the Romans. Horrible, dishonorable, copycat Romans. Hera argued that we must keep the two camps apart. I said, 'No, let them fight. Let my children destroy the usurpers'."

Annabeth had only met Jason Grace in passing, but she didn't particularly want to destroy him. And Minerva or not, her mother shouldn't be so... unhinged. Nothing Piper had said about Juno suggested that this was typical of the Roman gods. "What happened to you, Mom?"

"Rome happened! I was replaced! Sacked! Looted like a trophy and carted off— away from my beloved homeland. I lost…" and her voice trailed off, becoming smaller and softer, "...so much. I swore I would never forgive. Neither would my children."

She focused more closely on Annabeth. "You are my daughter?"

Annabeth swallowed around the tight feeling in her throat. "Yes."

"Then avenge me." The goddess stared into Annabeth's eyes as she fished a coin— a subway token?— out of her shirt and pressed it into Annabeth's hand. "If you are my daughter, follow the Mark and avenge me."

"Mom, you're…" confused, she couldn't say, not if she liked her human shape. Even from Annabeth, even if she'd been in her right mind, her mother would not tolerate that. "Mom, you're not the goddess of revenge. Revenge isn't wise."

"Revenge is everything to me," Minerva snapped. "And which of us is wiser?"

"Hera—" and it stung, to call on Hera's authority and plan here, because Annabeth still stepped in random cow patties in the middle of New York City, but desperate times called for desperate measures, "—Hera is trying to reunite the Greek and Roman camps for the fight against Gaia. There was a quest, she brought one of their Praetors here as an ambassador—"

"Then kill their Praetor! Kill all the Romans! Find the Mark, follow it to its source. Witness how Rome has disgraced me, and pledge your vengeance!"

"This plan might… might help you," Annabeth said, choosing her words carefully. "If your Roman side isn't happy with the Roman camp—"

"Roman side?" Minerva hissed, and Annabeth flinched back. "They wanted to make a Roman out of me? They wished me to be their goddess? Then let them choke on what they have made! Let them taste of their own evil! Kill them, daughter. Kill them all."

Annabeth steeled herself, and met her mother's grey eyes. "No."

"Then you are nothing." The goddess turned away from her, back to the subway map. Her expression softened, becoming confused and unfocused. "If I could find the route…the way home, then perhaps—"

"Mom, please, listen to me—"

Minerva didn't look back. "Avenge me or leave me. You are no child of mine."

It hurt, more than if her mother had just decided to smite her directly. Nothing else she said got a further response, and finally Annabeth turned and pushed her way through the crowd, up and out into the street and towards the Empire State Building.

Get to Olympus, talk to Athena, and her mother would make the wisest choice. Whatever Minerva had become in Rome was not who she should be.

Finally there, Annabeth went up to the security guard. "Six hundredth floor, please."

But instead of handing her a key card for the elevator, the personification of Olympus's connection to the mortal world smiled at her vacantly. "There's no such floor, miss."

"What?" Annabeth said. "I've been coming here for months, you know who I am!"

"There's an observation deck on the hundred-and-second floor if you'd like?"

"I need to go to work!"

The guard shrugged and shook his head regretfully, meeting her eyes. "Sorry, miss. There's no such floor."

After a long minute, Annabeth turned and walked away.

She had one other option. For five years, the gates of Olympus had been closed. The security guard had been gone, and there had only been one hundred and two floors in the building. For five years, Annabeth had gone to Olympus by a different route.

Annabeth prayed.

"Mom. Athena. I would like to come to Olympus. Please."

She waited, but the lobby around her remained stubbornly unchanged.

Swallowing, Annabeth shuffled through her backpack for her Yankee cap of invisibility, her twelfth birthday gift from her mother. She walked to where she could faintly see her reflection in a glass display case and put it on. It did nothing.

Annabeth took a few deep breaths, thinking, then turned and strode out of the building while fishing her phone and dagger out of her backpack. Piper picked up on the second ring, and Annabeth skipped the pleasantries. "I'm joining your quest."

"Um. What?" Piper said. "What happened? Aren't you already applying for summer internships?"

She'd had an interview with Perkins-Eastman in two weeks. "It doesn't matter."

"What. Happened."

"I met Minerva." Annabeth pulled her mother's coin out of her pocket. "Greek and Roman reconciliation, right? Fixing our parents? I'm in."

As Annabeth watched, the coin changed from an old-fashioned New York subway token to a worn silver drachma engraved with an owl. The Mark of Athena.

She'd done some research on it a couple of years ago, after Percy told her about meeting the god of the Tiber River, but Cabin Six's library hadn't turned up much beyond the occasional mention in diary entries by long-disappeared demigods. Chiron had clammed up in a way that probably meant he knew what was going on but couldn't talk about it.

She wondered if he'd be more forthcoming if she asked with the coin in her hand.

Maui Island, Hawaii. Late April, Five-and-a-half years after the end of the Second Olympian War

I'd just turned off the lights and settled down to sleep when I felt a new presence on the top deck. I opened my eyes, grimacing, and grabbed my jeans and shirt from my dirty laundry and made myself decent before heading up to meet the queen of the gods.

She was regal, standing about a foot taller than me with a gold staff in one hand and a goat-skin cloak slung over her dark dress. I'd never seen Hera in anything but shimmering white, and the goat skin instead of peacock feathers probably meant… "Lady Juno?"

Juno smiled. "Percy Jackson."

"What brings you here tonight?" I asked warily.

"I have come to recruit you for the next prophecy."

I started really hoping that she just didn't know what the Greek half of the pantheon was doing. "I've actually been recruited already. You're like the third person to ask. I'm joining up with Leo, Piper and Jason when they head to your camp."

"Yes. When Jason Grace, who disappeared without warning, guides a powerful warship crewed by New Rome's ancient enemies into New Rome." She paused to let that sink in. "A single ambassador will not succeed. I always intended to make an exchange."

Just once, it would be nice to be wrong.

"You picked Jason because he's a Praetor, right? I'm not a counselor anymore. I left years ago, some of the new kids barely know me."

"They know of you," Juno countered. "Even if you are no longer their leader, you remain a legend. Camp Half-blood would follow you into battle if you ask."

I didn't like that she was probably right.

"If my family is to be healed, if Rome and Greece can ever work together, you must join us willingly. I do not wish to repeat the mistakes of the past today," Juno said quietly. "Percy Jackson, will you come to Rome?"

She was asking. Why was she asking?

"Did Jason agree to let you Mist him and dump him in New York?"

Her eyes narrowed in irritation before her face smoothed back into serenity. "His consent was unnecessary."

I could absolutely guarantee Jason didn't feel the same way. "So what's changed?"

She smiled slightly. "Your father has requested that I not answer that question, but I will tell you if you wish to know."

Artemis had given me the same answer about why I was studying astronomy. What was the connection between— no. I wasn't going there.

I forced my thoughts down a different path, towards what Juno wanted me to do.

The thing was, the concept of gods having different aspects wasn't actually new to me. Guan Yu was both a Buddhist bodhisattva and a Taoist god. He was always himself, no matter which side was more dominant, so I didn't think he had it as bad as what Piper had described, but I could usually tell which part of him I was talking to.

And he'd told me what happened when his aspects were turned against each other. Various emperors and dynasties had favored one side and tried to suppress the other, sometimes violently, leaving him in blinding pain and almost completely unable to help the worshippers he was supposed to be protecting.

So it wasn't a new concept. But I hadn't connected it to my dad.

I didn't like the thought.

"Would you need to mess with my memories?"

"You cannot lie well enough to fool the dogs that guard the Praetors," Juno said. "Greeks are not welcome in New Rome, and genuine ignorance of your origin will be your only defense."

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I couldn't believe I was actually considering this. "When would I get them back?"

"They will return naturally over the coming months as your mind works through the Mist."

Except I trusted Hera about as far as I could throw Mrs. O'Leary, and the Juno side wasn't looking much better. There were a lot of things I was pretty sure the Olympian Council would like me to forget, and Jason hadn't gotten everything back yet, four months later.

Well. When in doubt, force binding oaths on the gods. "Are you willing to swear that on the Styx?"

Her expression darkened. "You always turn far too easily to the most powerful oath that can be made."

"I wonder why," I said flatly. "Swear you'll give me all of my memories back soon, and I'll go with you."

She stared down at me, looking like she was running a cost-benefit analysis between smiting the annoying mortal and whatever she had planned for me in the next few months. Finally, she nodded. "Done. I swear on the Styx. If you come with me voluntarily, I will return any memories you have not already recovered naturally on your next birthday."

Thunder boomed in the clear sky. I relaxed and looked over at Blackjack, who had woken up when the conversation started and had been watching grimly. He turned to nudge Mrs. O'Leary awake and said, I'll let everyone know what happened, boss.

I looked back at Juno. "What about my ship?"

"Neptune will ensure it is taken care of."

A few minutes later, I watched as Mrs. O'Leary and Blackjack went into the shadows to Chiron. I checked my pocket for Riptide, then turned to Juno. "Alright."

She came within arm's length and repeated her question from earlier. "Percy Jackson, will you come to Rome?"

Her tone was oddly formal, and I straightened instinctively. "I… yes. Yes, I'll go with you to Rome."

She leaned down to brush a maternal kiss against my forehead. As the Mist swept over my mind, the last thing I saw was her triumphant smile.

Mythology notes:

Tulpar—Winged horses from Turkic mythology, prominently displayed on the state emblem of Kazakhstan. No source I saw had anything to say on whether the Pegasus and Tulpar myths have a common origin or if 'stick wings on important land animal' is just a common way of creating a mythological creature.

Horses in Marya Morevna— as was implied in the chapter, when he is trying to get a horse to rescue his wife from Koschei the Deathless, Ivan Tsarevich's kindness to animals is the key to the quest. He is out hunting for food, but the animals he targets keep begging him not to be eaten, and he spares, in succession, a bird's nest, a lion's cub, and a bee's hive. Over the three days he worked for Baba Yaga, the horses Ivan was supposed to be watching were driven back to their pastures each day by all of the birds, lions, or bees in the land… which is why Baba Yaga doesn't question it when her kidnapped horses just start making shit up.