Mayor Castellan assured me that what few things I traveled with would be safe at the town hall. I wasn't much inclined to trust him. It was nothing I had against him; it just didn't seem so smart to leave my clothes and supplies unattended in a town that had just been threatened by an apparently notorious criminal.

No, in all my time traveling, I hadn't heard of the Ghost King. I only paid attention to those outlaws who robbed people on the trail because they were the ones who posed a threat to me. Bank robbers, home burglars, vigilantes, and crime lords were irrelevant in my world. I didn't keep money in the bank, and I didn't even have a permanent home. As for the vigilantes... Well, I liked to think I hadn't made many enemies.

Nevertheless, I left my things on the floor next to a desk occupied by a woman wearing jeans that were torn at the ends, probably from dragging the ground. She lounged relatively cat-like, with her legs on the desk and a hat pulled over her eyes.

"Thalia," Mayor Castellan said. "Want something to do?"

She came to and then said, "Not particularly."

Luke set my bag next to Thalia. "Take this over to Rachel's. Tell her to clear a room."

"Uh-huh." She lowered her hat again; I could only imagine she was returning to unconsciousness, and my bag would not be at the inn when I arrived.

The mayor waved. "If you'll follow me, Mr. Jackson, I'll show you where you'll be working."

"Just Percy is fine," I said.

Instead of addressing my objection, he held the door open and led me down the porch, into the street. Throughout it, people milled around. A shopkeeper unpacked crates of fruits and vegetables into baskets at the market. Children played in front of what I guessed was a schoolhouse.

"That was Thalia," Luke said.

"Huh?"

He smirked. "Sitting at the desk in Town Hall."

Most mayors out West didn't have secretaries. They either couldn't afford it or simply didn't have the need. Then again, a lot of things didn't make sense about Mayor Luke Castellan and Olympus. He had a carriage shipped from London. Olympus had a fully functional, permanent town hall, yet several of the gold miners seemed to be living out of tents, which I noticed as Luke waved to another man he knew.

"Thalia doesn't work for me," he clarified. "I'd like to offer her the job of deputy, but that's not exactly up to me. Besides, it was her brother we lost the other night. People aren't exactly lining up for the job of deputy sheriff."

I pondered this for a moment. If Thalia didn't work at the mayor's office, what was she doing there? I started to wonder what other weird things Olympus had to show me.

"That's the bank up there," Mayor Castellan said. He tipped his hat at a man sitting out front. "Mr. Stoll."

Mr. Stoll, who I assumed was the banker, gripped his rifle a little tighter. His hat cast a shadow over his eyes, yet I could still see they had dark bags beneath them.

"Travis has been tense lately," Luke said. "We all have been, since the incident."

"I can imagine so," I agreed.

"I don't think he's slept in days."

I pursed my lips. "Can't he hire help?"

Mayor Castellan raised an eyebrow. "Not much point in that. Gold runs dry, even without a so-called Ghost King."

That wasn't the first time he'd patronizingly referred to the gunman who'd terrorized his townspeople. "You say that like you're not afraid of him."

"Why would I be?" he asked. "I have the best sheriff and a whole town of people who wouldn't mind getting a piece of that guy."

It seemed that most townsfolk were going about their lives as they normally would, except for Travis the banker, who had a reason to worry. They must have had a lot of trust in Mayor Castellan and the sheriff... and also that Thalia woman who hung around the mayor's office.

"Afternoon," Mayor Castellan said to another woman we passed. "Afternoon," he said to her companion.

Once it seemed we had reached the end of the street, he veered right. "This is where you'll be spending a lot of time. I want to introduce you to the stablewoman."

I tried to hide my surprise; women couldn't legally own property, especially not something as complicated as a business. Perhaps her husband's name was on the deed, I guessed. Then again, you could get away with a lot out West if people let you.

Mayor Castellan knocked on a small door to the house next to the stables.

Nobody answered.

The mayor knocked again, even harder this time.

Still, nobody answered the door.

"Maybe no one's home," I suggested. As curious as I was about the job at hand, I wouldn't have been opposed to getting myself comfortable at the inn a little early.

"She's always here," he said. He waved me around back and into the stablewoman's fenced-in yard, where some horses grazed. None of them looked particularly menacing to me, but then again, none of them fit Mayor Castellan's description. I gulped and hoped that the Ghost King's found horse simply wasn't hungry.

Mayor Castellan walked along the outside of the fence and toward the stables.

Admittedly, I wasn't keen on trespassing, especially after seeing the banker with the rifle. Clearly, not everyone trusted the mayor and his sheriff to take care of the situation. How was I supposed to know that the stablewoman wouldn't show up with a rifle and shoot me on sight? She didn't know me. She had every reason to.

The way Mayor Castellan walked around the place like he owned it should have calmed my nerves, but it didn't. I typically didn't carry a gun when I was about to work with animals, yet I wished I hadn't left mine with Thalia.

"Hello!" Mayor Castellan called when we entered the stables. "Anybody home?"

"Well, hey there!"

"Ah!" I jumped. Packed into five feet was who I assumed to be the stablewoman, an African American woman with a wide grin and bright eyes.

"Hazel Levesque," the mayor said, "I think you'll be interested in meeting Percy Jackson."

Her eyes widened and she took my hand, shaking it almost violently. "Wow, I've heard so much about you! It's an honor, Mr. Jackson. Is it true you birthed a two-headed calf once?"

My cheeks reddened thinking of Bessie, who was probably dead by now. Two-headed calves didn't usually make it long. "It was a group effort," I said, "and you can just call me Percy."

She nodded.

Mayor Castellan cleared his throat. "Mr. Jackson will be working with the Ghost King's horse."

Hazel's grin fell. "Oh, I wouldn't want you gettin' hurt."

Mayor Castellan patted me on the back. "Take us to her."

She nodded and beckoned us to follow her to a pen on the furthest side of the stables. It didn't seem like the surrounding ones were occupied.

"She's quite dangerous," Hazel said.

I studied the horse. It was taller than most, and incredibly healthy, other than that he seemed to be keeping weight off one of his legs.

"What do you make of her?" the mayor asked. "I don't suppose she's told you who the Ghost King is."

"Ha, ha," I quipped. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but this horse is a male."

"Didn't I tell you so?" Hazel said to Mayor Castellan.

He only growled under his breath in response. Then, he said to me, "You think you can work with this?"

"Don't make him commit to it just yet," Hazel said.

"You can fix any animal, or was I mistaken, Mr. Jackson?" he asked.

I had given up on correcting him; he wouldn't call me Percy if I paid him. "Mayor Castellan, I don't make any promises, especially without a proper introduction to this horse. I think it might be best if Hazel tells me a little more about him."

The mayor said, "Alright then," but didn't budge.

"I can find my way back to your office," I said.

Hazel took my arm in hers. "I'll bring him back when we're through. Frank should be home soon."

The mayor tipped his hat. "Have it your way." And with that, he went off in the direction we came from.

"Help me get the other horses back inside," Hazel said.

I followed her back out into the gated field. "They're all beautiful," I said. I meant it; they were some of the happiest healthiest horses I'd ever seen.

She beamed. "Why, thank you! I do have to say, they're not mine. Well, Arion is. He's that grouchy one over there."

"Have you tried acclimating him to the other horses?" I asked.

She looked at me. "What do you think I've been doing? Besides, he's not dangerous or anything. Nobody's got anything to be afraid of so long as they don't scare him. The horse you'll be working with, on the other hand..." She trailed off.

"Go on," I said. "I don't like it much when my clients keep lifesaving information from me."

She sighed. "Blackjack—that's what I've been calling him—isn't like the others. I can tell he's hurt, and Percy, I swear, I know what to do to help his leg, but he won't let me get near to bandage him. He... He hurt Frank," she said.

"Is Frank your husband?" I asked.

"In every way but the legal way, I suppose," she said. "He came over with a bunch of Chinese gold rushers. He should be home soon."

"Is he okay?" I asked.

She smiled. "Just a little bruised up; the doctor said he's just fine, so he went right back out to pan for gold. He has a lot of patience, but, well, he hasn't exactly gotten lucky, and with the foreign miner taxes they're talking about..."

"He's due for luck any day now, then," I said, hoping to reassure her.

"I hope so," she agreed, opening a door labeled ARGENTUM.

"You have great penmanship," I said.

She beamed. "Thank you," she said, taking the reins I was holding and leading the grey horse—Argentum, I assumed—into his stall.

Next was Guido, then Hazel's horse Arion, then Scipio, and finally, Aurum, who, Hazel explained, shared an owner with Argentum. Their names translated to Silver and Gold.

"I usually just open Blackjack's pen and let her—him—out on his own. He needs exercise, even if he is hurt, but getting a saddle or anything on him is practically impossible," she told me.

"Is that how Frank got hurt?" I asked.

She chuckled. "Oh, bless his heart. No. I don't usually let Blackjack out until he's home; it takes two to get him back in the stables."

"How exactly do you go about that?" I asked, assuming that I would be the one to help wrangle the rogue horse.

"Carefully," said Hazel. "It's not too hard to lure him in with food, but you can't hold it in your hand; he doesn't like to get close to people. Or other horses, for that matter. I had to move the other horses just because they couldn't keep quiet at night; gave Frank and me a headache, and woke up half the town too." She patted Aurum's nose and fed him a carrot.

"Where's that one?" I asked, pointing to an empty stall labeled PORKPIE. "Kind of a funny name for a horse, don't you think?"

"That's the sheriff's," Hazel said. "I haven't seen Porkpie in a while; he's been working quite a lot with the whole Ghost King thing."

I nodded.

"Come on," she said. "Let me show you how we let Blackjack out."

I followed her to the stall in the back.

"Get on the other side of me," she said, "and keep very quiet."

I followed her instructions.

Hazel opened the gate, trapping the two of us against the wall.

Limping, Blackjack meandered out of the stall and past the other horses, almost seeming to glare as he passed them.

The others seemed to react accordingly as if Blackjack was a schoolyard bully not even the teacher could tame.

Well, in this case, I hoped he could be tamed. Otherwise, the good people of this town might have a dangerous horse to deal with. Hazel and Frank would continue to risk their lives taking care of Blackjack, and I didn't know how long they'd be willing to keep that up. Hazel was so small...

Blackjack finally entered the dusty field. Hazel slowly led me out behind him.

"How long has he been here?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"Since the incident two days ago."

Frank and Hazel had only kept this horse for two days and already, someone had gotten hurt.

I squinted in the light and pulled my hat lower over my brow to block the sun.

"Stay around the perimeter," she said. "If you're gonna move, do it slowly and quietly."

I stayed close to the fence next to Hazel. "So what other behaviors have you noticed from him?"

"I can't get close to him, so it's hard to notice much," she admitted. "I can say that he's well taken care of. I don't understand why the Ghost King would have abandoned him here."

"Do you think he was hurt before the incident?" I didn't think he was; he didn't seem used to walking on that dud leg yet, but I wanted to hear Hazel's opinion. I didn't know her well, but in the hour I'd known her, she had proved that she knew quite a bit about horses.

She shook her head. "He doesn't seem used to that leg yet."

Exactly, I thought to myself, smiling at her. "We'll need to treat that leg as soon as possible. I trust you keep a clean place, but we can't risk infection."

She shook her head in agreement. "Gettin' close enough to look at it is hard enough. I don't know how you'll get him to let you touch him."

Blackjack seemed to attempt a trot across the grass, only slowed by his leg.

"What do you know about the Ghost King?" Hazel asked me.

"Only what Luke told me. You?"

She shrugged. "Not much. Rumors are flyin', but I don't like to trust in rumors. Will you want to treat Blackjack today?"

I was startled by how quickly she changed the subject that she brought up. "Uh, no. I'll need some supplies and some time to put together a plan. Do you think Frank would be willing to help us out tomorrow? Bright and early so he can get back to work."

"If he wasn't able to," Hazel said, "he is now."