Ren thought he knew jerks. The camp director was Mr. D, probably the grumpiest person on the planet. Heck, his own dad had tried to kill them for fun.

But Tantalus was worse than both of them combined.

The new activities director was a ghost who the gods had brought back until the problems with Thalia's tree could be solved. That gave Ren the tiniest bit of hope about Scar, but that was soon stopped when word got around that he was from Punishment.

"It's the myth," one of Ren's siblings muttered. "Tantalus' eternal punishment was to always be hungry, but never be able to eat."

That was proven when Tantalus reached for a plate of roast, only for it to zip down the table and commit suicide in the fire. The gods were getting extra tonight.

"Food hates this guy," Ren muttered back. "Sucks to be him."

Several of his fellow Ares children snickered.

Tantalus stood up. "So," he said. "I will be your new activities director. I am very..." he gritted his teeth as if what he was about to say was a lie, and then turned it into a smile. "... excited to meet you all."

The campers didn't cheer. They didn't do anything.

"We have a matter to attend to," Tantalus continued. "Our friend Percy Jackson brought a monster into camp."

He pointed a bony finger at Tyson, who seemed to try to shrink in his chair

The campers all got up and threw a portion of their food into the fire, and then they all started eating.

Grian wandered over to Ren, looking terrifyingly more hyper than usual. "Hi!" he said, as if they had never met before. "Travis showed me something. It's called Pepsi."

Oh no, he's found the caffeine. Everybody run for your lives.

"You shouldn't be having that," Ren said, taking his magic goblet away from him.

"Aww," Grian said disappointedly, and walked away. "Travis! He stole my soda!"

"And for good reason!" Gem said to him.

"Just don't let him find coffee," Ren heard someone from the table next to him say.

The rest of dinner passed very quietly. Nobody wanted to risk angering the dead guy.

But at the end of dinner, when everyone was finishing up their dessert, Tantalus made an announcement that seemed to cheer up (some of) the campers. But only some.

"We will be bringing back the chariot races,' Tantalus declared while chasing a bowl of potatoes around the table. "I don't know why that old horse got rid of it in the first place. It was only one camper that died, and from what Mr. D tells me, he was an annoying one."

Mr. D nodded in agreement, which wasn't very comforting. Although, even he didn't seem to like the new activities director.

The campers whispered to each other. Ren knew what a chariot was. He had never ridden one, though. But they looked fun. And incredibly dangerous.

After that announcement, they all went to the campfire.

It was about the excitement level of the day when Chiron announced that Luke was a filthy traitor. Not exactly in those words. The Apollo cabin strummed halfheartedly on their instruments, the rest of the campers mumbling the words of a stupid campfire song.

It was not a good day.

It was only made worse when Tango went to the Hermits who were still in the Hermes cabin, told them something that made them exchange horrified glances, and then walked over towards Ren.

"I got some news from X," he said gravely. "I don't want to be the one to say this. But Cleo..."

"Oh no," Ren said. "She didn't get possessed again, did she?"

Ren knew what it was like to be a pawn.

It sucked.

But Cleo was the type of person to hate it more.

"It's worse than that," Tango said, holding up his communicator. "She's dead. Permanently."

Ren put his head in his hands.

They all knew it was coming. Hades would eventually give up on her and move on to some other method. But it still hit hard.

She's probably really mad about this. I could see her barging into the palace to break Hades' legs.

I mean, she'd get Punishment for doing that. But then she would probably rally the worst of the spirits and escape.

Tango, probably not knowing what else to say, walked away to tell Zedaph.

The campfire died out, and the Hermits didn't even go to their cabins together like they usually did. A, they didn't want to risk getting told off.

And B...

Well, it was hard to remember their agreement to stick together when two of them would never be part of the group again.

------

The next few days passed much like any other week at camp, except, of course, for the excitement about the chariot races. So far, it seemed like every cabin was working together except for Athena. There, Annabeth was helping Percy with his.

Until suddenly she wasn't.

Ren thought it had something to do with Tyson. But when he asked around, the only answer was from Malcolm from the Athena cabin who said, "Annabeth doesn't like Cyclopses."

It wasn't very helpful.

But anyway, Percy and Tyson were suddenly working together.

Ren wasn't sure how that would work out. Percy was great with equestrians, and Tyson would be able to make some sick weapons for the race. The Posideon cabin actually had a chance of winning.

"Ren," Clarisse said, stomping up to him one day.

Ren was used to it. He had never seen her walk normally. She only stomped around. Maybe it was to assert dominance.

It sounded like something he would do, even though he didn't.

"Yeah?" He asked, lowering his bow. He had had practice with archery in Hermitcraft. He was actually decent at it, versus most of the other Ares kids who were constantly made fun of by the Apollo cabin for it.

Pfft. Apollo. As if healing was better than just not getting the injuries in the first place.

"I'm going to be chariot driver," Clarisse growled. "I need someone who won't miss every time to be the fighter."

Ren realized what she was asking. "You want me to be in the chariot race?"

Clarisse nodded slowly, as if talking to an idiot.

Well, she wasn't. Ren was a professional.

Mhm. Professional.

"I can do that," Ren said without really thinking.

This wouldn't end badly, right?

It wasn't that Ren didn't trust his combat skills. It was that he didn't trust himself not to get competitive and hurt one of the other Hermits.

Oh, well. It was too late now. Clarisse had already walked away.

From what Ren knew, she had some pretty good ideas on weapons and things.

When Ren saw the chariot for the first time, he winced.

It was sloppily painted red, which hurt his eyes. He may have been a son of Ares, but he was still a Hermit. He still had some appreciation for beauty.

Maybe he could sneak into the chariot garage at night to make it look slightly better.

But it had plenty of spikes everywhere so any chariot who rammed into them would be shredded to bits. It had several little clips on the side for spears, and an attached quiver for arrows. It looked like a war chariot.

Almost like it was made by children of the war god of something.

Ren had a few ideas of his own, too. Hopefully, they would allow them to win this.

Because they were going to win this. Ren was determined. And when he was determined, things got done.