ANNABETH WOKE STARING at the shadows dancing across the hut's ceiling. She hadn't had a single dream. That was so unusual, she wasn't sure if she'd actually woken up.

As she lay there, Percy snoring next to her and Small Bob purring on her belly, she heard Bob and Damasen deep in conversation.

'You haven't told her,' Damasen said.

'No,' Bob admitted. 'She is already scared.'

The giant grumbled. 'She should be. And if you cannot guide them past Night?'

Damasen said Night like it was a proper name an evil name.

'I have to,' Bob said.

'Why?' Damasen wondered. 'What have the demiG.o.ds given you? They have erased your old self, everything you were. t.i.tans and giants ... we are meant to be the foes of the G.o.ds and their children. Are we not?'

'Then why did you heal the boy?'

Damasen exhaled. 'I have been wondering that myself. Perhaps because the girl goaded me, or perhaps ... I find these two demiG.o.ds intriguing. They are resilient to have made it so far. That is admirable. Still, how can we help them any further? It is not our fate.'

'Perhaps,' Bob said uncomfortably. 'But ... do you like our fate?'

'What a question. Does anyone like his fate?'

'I liked being Bob,' Bob murmured. 'Before I started to remember ...'

'Huh.' There was a shuffling sound, as if Damasen was stuffing a leather bag.

'Damasen,' the t.i.tan asked, 'do you remember the sun?'

The shuffling stopped. Annabeth heard the giant exhale through his nostrils. 'Yes. It was yellow. When it touched the horizon, it turned the sky beautiful colours.'

'I miss the sun,' Bob said. 'The stars, too. I would like to say h.e.l.lo to the stars again.'

'Stars ...' Damasen said the word as if he'd forgotten its meaning. 'Yes. They made silver patterns in the night sky.' He threw something to the floor with a thump. 'Bah. This is useless talk. We cannot '

In the distance, the Maeonian drakon roared.

Percy sat bolt upright. 'What? What where what?'

'It's okay.' Annabeth took his arm.

When he registered that they were together in a giant's bed with a skeleton cat, he looked more confused than ever. 'That noise ... where are we?'

'How much do you remember?' she asked.

Percy frowned. His eyes seemed alert. All his wounds had vanished. Except for his tattered clothes and a few layers of dirt and grime, he looked as if he'd never fallen into Tartarus.

'I the demon grandmothers and then ... not much.'

Damasen loomed over the bed. 'There is no time, little mortals. The drakon is returning. I fear its roar will draw the others my brethren, hunting you. They will be here within minutes.'

Annabeth's pulse quickened. 'What will you tell them when they get here?'

Damasen's mouth twitched. 'What is there to tell? Nothing of significance, as long as you are gone.'

He tossed them two drakon-leather satchels. 'Clothes, food, drink.'

Bob was wearing a similar but larger pack. He leaned on his broom, gazing at Annabeth as if still pondering Damasen's words: What have the demiG.o.ds given you? We are meant to be the foes of the G.o.ds and their children.

Suddenly Annabeth was struck by a thought so sharp and clear, it was like a blade from Athena herself.

'The Prophecy of Seven,' she said.

Percy had already climbed out of the bed and was shouldering his pack. He frowned at her. 'What about it?'

Annabeth grabbed Damasen's hand, startling the giant. His brow furrowed. His skin was as rough as sandstone.

'You have to come with us,' she pleaded. 'The prophecy says foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. I thought it meant Romans and Greeks, but that's not it. The line means us demiG.o.ds, a t.i.tan, a giant. We need you to close the Doors!'

The drakon roared outside, closer this time. Damasen gently pulled his hand away.

'No, child,' he murmured. 'My curse is here. I cannot escape it.'

'Yes, you can,' Annabeth said. 'Don't fight the drakon. Figure out a way to break the cycle! Find another fate.'

Damasen shook his head. 'Even if I could, I cannot leave this swamp. It is the only destination I can picture.'

Annabeth's mind raced. 'There is another destination. Look at me! Remember my face. When you're ready, come find me. We'll take you to the mortal world with us. You can see the sunlight and stars.'

The ground shook. The drakon was close now, stomping through the marsh, blasting trees and moss with its poison spray. Further away, Annabeth heard the voice of the giant Polybotes, urging his followers forward. 'THE SEA G.o.d'S SON! HE IS CLOSE!'

'Annabeth,' Percy said urgently, 'that's our cue to leave.'

Damasen took something from his belt. In his ma.s.sive hand, the white shard looked like another toothpick, but when he offered it to Annabeth she realized it was a sword a blade of dragon bone, honed to a deadly edge, with a simple grip of leather.

'One last gift for the child of Athena,' rumbled the giant. 'I cannot have you walking to your death unarmed. Now, go! Before it is too late.'

Annabeth wanted to sob. She took the sword, but she couldn't even make herself say thank you. She knew the giant was meant to fight at their side. That was the answer but Damasen turned away.

'We must leave,' Bob urged as his kitten climbed onto his shoulder.

'He's right, Annabeth,' Percy said.

They ran for the entrance. Annabeth didn't look back as she followed Percy and Bob into the swamp, but she heard Damasen behind them, shouting his battle cry at the advancing drakon, his voice cracking with despair as he faced his old enemy yet again.

XLI.

PIPER.

PIPER DIDN'T KNOW MUCH about the Mediterranean, but she was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to freeze in July.

Two days out to sea from Split, grey clouds swallowed the sky. The waves turned choppy. Cold drizzle sprayed across the deck, forming ice on the rails and the ropes.

'It's the sceptre,' Nico murmured, hefting the ancient staff. 'It has to be.'

Piper wondered. Ever since Jason and Nico had returned from Diocletian's Palace, they'd been acting nervous and cagey. Something major had happened there something Jason wouldn't share with her.

It made sense that the sceptre might have caused this weather change. The black orb on top seemed to leach the colour right out of the air. The golden eagles at its base glinted coldly. The sceptre could supposedly control the dead, and it definitely gave off bad vibes. Coach Hedge had taken one look at the thing, turned pale and announced that he was going to his room to console himself with Chuck Norris videos. (Although Piper suspected that he was actually making Iris-messages back home to his girlfriend Mellie; the coach had been acting very agitated about her lately, though he wouldn't tell Piper what was going on.) So, yes ... maybe the sceptre could cause a freak ice storm. But Piper didn't think that was it. She feared something else was happening something even worse.

'We can't talk up here,' Jason decided. 'Let's postpone the meeting.'

They'd all gathered on the quarterdeck to discuss strategy as they got closer to Epirus. Now it was clearly not a good place to hang out. Wind swept frost across the deck. The sea churned beneath them.

Piper didn't mind the waves so much. The rocking and pitching reminded her of surfing with her dad off the California coast. But she could tell Hazel wasn't doing well. The poor girl got seasick even in calm waters. She looked like she was trying to swallow a billiard ball.

'Need to ' Hazel gagged and pointed below.

'Yeah, go.' Nico kissed her cheek, which Piper found surprising. He hardly ever made gestures of affection, even to his sister. He seemed to hate physical contact. Kissing Hazel ... it was almost like he was saying goodbye.

'I'll walk you down.' Frank put his arm around Hazel's waist and helped her to the stairs.

Piper hoped Hazel would be okay. The last few nights, since that fight with Sciron, they'd had some good talks together. Being the only two girls on board was kind of rough. They'd shared stories, complained about the guys' gross habits and shed some tears together about Annabeth. Hazel had told her what it was like to control the Mist, and Piper had been surprised by how much it sounded like using charmspeak. Piper had offered to help her if she could. In return, Hazel had promised to coach her in sword fighting a skill at which Piper epically sucked. Piper felt like she had a new friend, which was great ... a.s.suming they lived long enough to enjoy the friendship.

Nico brushed some ice from his hair. He frowned at the sceptre of Diocletian. 'I should put this thing away. If it's really causing the weather, maybe taking it below deck will help ...'

'Sure,' Jason said.

Nico glanced at Piper and Leo, as if worried what they might say when he was gone. Piper felt his defences going up, like he was curling into a psychological ball, the way he'd gone into a death trance in that bronze jar.

Once he'd headed below, Piper studied Jason's face. His eyes were full of concern. What had happened in Croatia?

Leo pulled a screwdriver from his belt. 'So much for the big team meeting. Looks like it's just us again.'

Just us again.

Piper remembered a wintry day in Chicago last December, when the three of them had landed in Millennial Park on their first quest.

Leo hadn't changed much since then, except he seemed more comfortable in his role as a child of Hephaestus. He'd always had too much nervous energy. Now he knew how to use it. His hands were constantly in motion, pulling tools from his belt, working controls, tinkering with his beloved Archimedes sphere. Today he'd removed it from the control panel and shut down Festus the figurehead for maintenance something about rewiring his processor for a motor-control upgrade with the sphere, whatever the heck that meant.

As for Jason, he looked thinner, taller and more careworn. His hair had gone from close-cropped Roman style to longer and s.h.a.ggier. The groove Sciron had shot across the left side of his scalp was interesting, too almost like a rebellious streak. His icy blue eyes looked older, somehow full of worry and responsibility.

Piper knew what her friends whispered about Jason he was too perfect, too straitlaced. If that had ever been true, it wasn't any more. He'd been battered on this journey, and not just physically. His hardships hadn't weakened him, but he'd been weathered and softened like leather as if he were becoming a more comfortable version of himself.

And Piper? She could only imagine what Leo and Jason thought when they looked at her. She definitely didn't feel like the same person she'd been last winter.

That first quest to rescue Hera seemed like centuries ago. So much had changed in seven months ... she wondered how the G.o.ds could stand being alive for thousands of years. How much change had they seen? Maybe it wasn't surprising that the Olympians seemed a little crazy. If Piper had lived through three millennia, she would have gone loopy.

She gazed into the cold rain. She would have given anything to be back at Camp Half-Blood, where the weather was controlled even in the winter. The images she'd seen in her knife recently ... well, they didn't give her much to look forward to.

Jason squeezed her shoulder. 'Hey, it'll be fine. We're close to Epirus now. Another day or so, if Nico's directions are right.'

'Yep.' Leo tinkered with his sphere, tapping and nudging one of the jewels on its surface. 'By tomorrow morning, we'll reach the western coast of Greece. Then another hour inland, and bang House of Hades! I'ma get me the T-shirt!'

'Yay,' Piper muttered.

She wasn't anxious to plunge into the darkness again. She still had nightmares about the nymphaeum and the hypogeum under Rome. In the blade of Katoptris, she'd seen images similar to what Leo and Hazel had described from their dreams a pale sorceress in a gold dress, her hands weaving golden light in the air like silk on a loom; a giant wrapped in shadows, marching down a long corridor lined with torches. As he pa.s.sed each one, the flames died. She saw a huge cavern filled with monsters Cyclopes, Earthborn and stranger things surrounding her and her friends, hopelessly outnumbering them.

Every time she saw those images, a voice in her head kept repeating one line over and over.

'Guys,' she said, 'I've been thinking about the Prophecy of Seven.'

It took a lot to get Leo's attention away from his work, but that did the trick.

'What about it?' he asked. 'Like ... good stuff, I hope?'

She readjusted her cornucopia's shoulder strap. Sometimes the horn of plenty seemed so light she forgot about it. Other times it felt like an anvil, as if the river G.o.d Achelous were sending out bad thoughts, trying to punish her for taking his horn.

'In Katoptris,' she started, 'I keep seeing that giant Clytius the guy who's wrapped in shadows. I know his weakness is fire, but in my visions he snuffs out flames wherever he goes. Any kind of light just gets sucked into his cloud of darkness.'

'Sounds like Nico,' Leo said. 'You think they're related?'

Jason scowled. 'Hey, man, cut Nico some slack. So, Piper, what about this giant? What are you thinking?'

She and Leo exchanged a quizzical look, like: Since when does Jason defend Nico di Angelo? She decided not to comment.

'I keep thinking about fire,' Piper said. 'How we expect Leo to beat this giant because he's ...'

'Hot?' Leo suggested with a grin.

'Um, let's go with flammable. Anyway, that line from the prophecy bothers me: To storm or fire the world must fall.'

'Yeah, we know all about it,' Leo promised. 'You're gonna say I'm fire. And Jason here is storm.'