Today was my first official day working with Blackjack at Hazel's stables. As promised, her husband Frank was present to oversee in case I needed any emergency manpower.

I wasn't sure what I expected from Frank. I think maybe Hazel was just so independent that whoever turned out to be her husband in everything but legality would inevitably surprise me.

When I knocked on the door to the house, it wasn't Hazel who answered the door, but a tall, buff, Chinese man with close-cropped hair. He wore a blue dress shirt with the collar flipped in opposite directions, and brown leather suspenders held his pants up.

"Can I help you?" he asked, expressionless.

I gulped, wondering if somehow Hazel forgot to tell him I was coming to work with Blackjack this morning. I tried to glance into the house behind him. Was Hazel near in case this giant man tried to kill me for trespassing?

"I..." I stammered. "My name is Percy Jackson. I'm here to see your... Hazel."

Frank extended his hand, and I accepted the handshake.

I winced, wondering if my hand could explode from the pressure of his squeeze.

"She's still gettin' ready," he said. "Come in. Have some coffee."

I took my hat off. "Thank you."

He beckoned for me to sit at the kitchen table and poured some dark coffee into a tin cup.

I thanked him again when he set the cup in front of me.

He grunted something in reply, and the chair across from me creaked as he sat down.

Frank eyed me as if sizing me up. I looked around the house for anything to avoid his watchful eye: a small pair of shoes sat by the door. A coat hung on a nail in the wall. In the center of the table was a bowl full of rocks of various sizes and shapes. Perhaps Frank had collected them while searching for gold.

"So," I asked. "You're a prospector."

"Mmhmm," he grunted.

Maybe he didn't speak English as well as I thought.

I glanced around some more. The window was framed by purple curtains, and through it, I could see some of the horses out in the field. I recognized Guido's patchy coat and Aurum's golden mane.

"So you're the horse doctor," Frank said, breaking the silence at last.

I nodded. "I work with other animals too, but yes, I'm here to look at a horse."

He scowled. "I don't like that new one."

"That's what I'm here about," I said. "He's hurt; I think his behavior will improve if I can treat the wound on his leg."

"Be careful," said Frank.

I didn't know whether or not it was a good idea to remind him that his help had been promised to me. Instead, I asked, "Are you afraid of Blackjack?"

His eyes darkened. "You're stupid if you're not afraid of that horse." He tugged his shirt collar to the side, revealing a dark purple bruise. "Knocked the wind out of me," Frank explained.

"That's an awful bruise," I said.

"Stay far away from that creature. It'll kill off everyone in this town before the Ghost King can return."

"So you know about the Ghost King?" I asked.

Frank looked at his lap. "I know to stay away from him and his horse. I'll help you get it in and out of the pen. I'm not touching it."

Before I could pry any further, he offered me a second cup of coffee, but I refused. I didn't need any more caffeine to wake me up; Frank's haunting demeanor had done enough.

The bedroom door opened and Hazel emerged, wearing a lavender skirt. "Well, good morning, Percy Jackson! I see you've met my Frankie." She kissed Frank on the cheek and then drank from his coffee cup. "Are you ready?" she asked me.

"I'd love to run the plan by you before we get started," I said, assuming she would sit and listen to me.

But Hazel, I'd learned, wasn't the kind of person who could sit still. Oddly enough, she was most attentive when doing something completely different while listening to you. She was an excellent multitasker.

"Help me bring the other horses back into the stables," she said, leading Frank and me outside.

I quickly caught onto Frank and Hazel's routine, leading the horses back into their stalls. Frank visited each stall with a heavy sack of feed. Hazel brushed the horses whose manes needed it and whispered words of affirmation to them when she thought I couldn't hear.

I helped where I could, although finding a task in Hazel and Frank's seamless routine was a task all on its own. I swept a few oats Frank had spilled out of the path. I calmed the horses closest to Blackjack.

"No Porkpie," I noted, seeing the stall belonging to the sheriff's horse was once again empty.

"Sheriff Chase came in early this morning," Hazel said. "Porkpie's needed for a trip out to Valhalla."

"What's in Valhalla?" I asked.

Hazel shrugged. "Answers, apparently. If you ask me, Mayor Castellan should keep his sheriff close in case the Ghost King returns for his horse."

"What makes you think he'll come back?" Frank asked, sealing a sack of oats with a drawstring.

"Blackjack is hurt," I said, "but he's in terrific condition. I don't have to be a doctor to know that. Whoever the Ghost King is, he took care of that horse."

Hazel nodded. "If I had to choose one of these horses to make a getaway on, it'd be Blackjack, except that his leg is wounded."

"Why not Porkpie?" Frank asked.

"Well, do you see Porkpie?"

He grunted and went back to work.

Hazel patted Argentum on the nose and turned to me. "Are you ready to put your plan into motion?"

"I never explained my plan," I said.

"Does it involve getting Blackjack outside the way we did yesterday?"

I sighed. "Yes."

Normally, I would mend a horse's leg inside its stall so it wouldn't have as much space to move away from where I could reach. If I was lucky, I might even be able to sit on a stool and do my work, but I valued my life, and after seeing Frank's bruise, there was no doubt that if Blackjack fought back, or if his hoof hit my head just right, I could find myself dead.

Just like yesterday, Blackjack mosied out of his stall, glaring at the other horses. Guido seemed to flinch when he passed.

"He's strange, isn't he?" Hazel asked.

Frank shuddered.

I took a deep breath. "Alright," I said. "The best shot we've got is to tire him out, but we don't want him putting too much pressure on that leg, or else he could get worse than he already is."

Hazel and Frank seemed to understand, so I continued. "Since there's so much space, I'm willing to bet he'll run before trying to fight back, so if we just try to approach him for a while, he'll eventually get tired from walking on a bad leg for so long."

"That could take a while," Frank said.

"Got any other ideas?" I asked.

Hazel said, "And when Blackjack gets too tired to run, you'll be able to examine his leg?"

"That's the idea," I said.

They both looked skeptical; Hazel frowned and Frank looked at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"Look," I said, "there are far better ways to go about this. I can explain exactly what I'd do if he were in good condition, or if he weren't so damn aggressive, but this is going to be our best option right now. The leg has to come first."

"I agree with you," said Hazel, "but I just don't want anybody to get hurt."

I sighed and approached my friend while Blackjack huffed and snorted. "I promise you I won't put you and Frank in harm's way. If someone gets hurt, it's gonna be me, and I'll even let you say I told you so."

"I'll hold you to that," Hazel said.

The three of us stared at Blackjack. Away from the other horses, he didn't seem so angry. It would have been naive to think that perhaps his aggression only applied to other horses; I'd seen what he'd done to Frank, so I kept my approach slow.

Just a few feet away, I became hopeful that my elaborate scheme had all been for nothing. Blackjack would just let me pick up his hoof and examine the damage to his leg, and then he'd lead me directly to the Ghost King so I could get out of Olympus as soon as possible.

But sure enough, my hope was in vain. Blackjack raised his head from the grassy patch he'd found and walked further away from me. His coat shined in the sunlight as he studied me with large dark eyes.

Hazel caught on fast and, staying within sight, walked towards Blackjack so he'd have to turn in a different direction to maintain his space. As much as he didn't seem to want to be within a few feet of any of us, he certainly took his time getting away.

It would take a while for Blackjack to tire out at this rate, but while I didn't want to keep Frank from looking for gold, I couldn't afford to take any risks that would hurt Blackjack—or any of us, for that matter. The prospect of leaving Olympus alive appealed to me.

Frank sighed and intercepted Blackjack again, causing him to turn around towards me. By now, we had formed a triangle around the closed-in field, so nobody had to move far to get Blackjack to start walking again. At least none of us were going to tire.

He didn't seem to like being in the middle of the enclosure, I noticed as he slowly moved away from Hazel.

"Do you think he's tiring out yet?" Frank asked.

"No time like the present to find out," I said. "Let's bring him back into the stall just to be safe."

"Percy," Hazel said, "I don't like the idea of you being stuck in a small space with him."

"Trust me," I said. "He's too tired to fight back." At least, I hoped that was the case.

My false confidence seemed to calm Hazel and Frank. Hazel ran ahead and held open the door to Blackjack's stall so Frank and I could usher him into the stables.

He made a slow maneuver to his stall, head bobbing up and down until he entered the barn. His movements slowed and he threw his signature glare in the other horses' directions.

Hazel made her body even smaller than it already was as she forced her back against the wall to keep the door open nice and wide for Blackjack. Perhaps he was so busy trying to get away from Frank and me that he didn't notice her. Whether or not that was the case, I was thankful he was cooperative for once.

Frank pulled the door away from Hazel and sealed Blackjack in the stall.

"Is Percy's bag nearby?" Hazel asked him.

He grunted and then retrieved it from the opposite side of the stable.

"Thank you, Frank," I said. "Just leave it nearby."

He nodded in reply.

I smiled at the large man. "Hazel and I can take it from here if you'd like to go to work now. I wouldn't want to take up any more of your time."

Frank tipped his hat. "Be careful."

"We will, Frankie." Hazel kissed him on the cheek, and I swore his face turned red. Maybe he was soft inside after all.

He turned back toward the house, leaving Hazel and me alone with Blackjack.

I stared at him in the stall. He was larger than the other horses, so there wouldn't be much room for us in the stall. One wrong move... I didn't want to think about what could happen.

"Well?" Hazel asked. "Look, Percy, I know you're nervous and all, but you might wanna think about getting in there before he gets some of his strength back and we have to start all over."

"Way to make a guy feel confident," I quipped.

"Just get in the stall," she said, taking my medical bag from me. Her frown wavered. "Good luck."

"Don't need it," I said, wondering if my skills would be enough to heal Blackjack's leg and not get myself killed in the process. I opened the door slightly so Blackjack wouldn't be able to get out, and slipped in.

So I wasn't dead yet. That was a good sign.

"You want your bag?" Hazel asked.

"Not yet," I said.

Blackjack snorted and favored the wall furthest from me, not taking his dark eye off me. It was as if suddenly I'd become the threat.

I glanced downward. Yup. That leg needed to be treated. A little longer like that and Blackjack might have found himself with an infection. That is if he didn't already have one. The wound was all kinds of colors, none of them good. I needed to get closer.

"Careful," Hazel warned as I crouched down. I wished I hadn't told Frank he could go; Hazel was too small to reach into the stall and rescue me should something terrible happen.

"Do you have a light?" I murmured to Hazel.

"Not in the barn," she said.

"Can you go get one?"

"And leave you alone? In your dreams." She wasn't wrong, but I wasn't sure I could properly address Blackjack's leg without proper lighting.

"It doesn't look good," Hazel noted.

I nodded. "Pass my bag." I would be doing the best I could with the cards I'd been dealt, even if it was a terrible hand.

She pushed my bag beneath the door.

I slowly opened it so that I wouldn't scare Blackjack and retrieved what I needed: some bandages and a solution for the cut. Knowing him, it would be a while before I could check on the wound again, and I couldn't risk any kind of infection.

"Do you have a wet rag?" I asked. "It needs to be cleaned before I can dress it."

After sensing the hesitation in her body language, I said, "I'll be fine. He seems to have calmed down."

Hazel nodded. "Stay here for just a second. I'll be right back."

"Yes, I'll stay right here," I said. "Wouldn't dream of going anywhere else."

She rolled her eyes at my sarcasm, and then I watched her feet walk away.

"Alright," I said under my breath. "Tell me about yourself, Blackjack." His coat and mane were well-groomed despite not having been touched in days. I assumed that the Ghost King had done that himself since Blackjack didn't seem to trust anyone. Did Blackjack trust the Ghost King? He must have. I couldn't see this horse being scared into submission. If that were the case, he'd be more afraid now than aggressive.

Whoever owned this horse took good care of it. So the Ghost King wasn't a total monster. I made a note to report that to Mayor Castellan or the sheriff later, not that I'd seen the sheriff since arriving.

The mayor wouldn't be satisfied with that information alone, so I looked for other clues. Fortunately, I remembered seeing tracks from horseshoes in the dirt outside. Blackjack wore horseshoes. If there was one thing I knew about blacksmiths, it was that they each had their unique way of designing mundane items such as horseshoes. The blacksmith back in New Rome let function lead his craft. His cups were cup-shaped and only had handles if they were meant for coffee. Nothing had designs on them unless his wife was around to make them.

Carefully, I reached for Blackjack's hoof. I wasn't sure what I could do that wouldn't spook him; he was hurt and aggressive. He didn't seem to be causing a fuss now, though, so I took a chance and gently grasped his hoof.

Everything happened in a blur. I tried to recall if Hazel had told me not to move from the stall, or not to do anything altogether. Either way, I knew she'd be furious at me for not heeding her warning.

My forehead hurt when cool metal made contact, and the pain rattled through my skull when I bounced against the wall.

"Percy?" a voice asked. "Percy!" it yelled over Blackjack's neighing.

I couldn't bring myself to turn my head. Blackjack's legs came in and out of focus.

"Frank! Frank, get out here!"

Drowsiness overcame me; there was no harm in closing my eyes for a few minutes, so I did.