We were welcomed by loud cheering.

Everyone got to their feet and started clapping and whooping, like we were a band of celebrities on a show. But the applause was short lived as all of us collapsed to the ground, dirty and sweaty, clothes ripped beyond repair and too tired to even talk.

A couple of medical demigods, including Hermes, ran forward and dragged us to a couple of surgical beds. Hermes draped me over his shoulder and carried me over to one of the beds. Poseidon was dragged over to a nearby sofa, where a couple of the Apollo children tended to him. Chloe and I were guarded by children of Hercules, according to Hermes, who had time to know everyone apart from his children. The one in charge was called James, who was the oldest of the Olympian god's four children. He seemed like an okay kind of guy, but he mostly kept to himself.

Katie and Jake didn't want to leave my side, no matter what. They figured out that I could use some protection.

Jake stood right next to me with his arms crossed, like he was a bouncer. I could tell by his eyes that everyone had to get through him in order to talk to me. Katie stayed right behind me, massaging my back after thinking it was stiff (which I'm not complaining about). Chloe was wrapping a piece of cloth on her left wrist, which was covered in blood due to a long slash. She never left us alone.

Chiron came over after pressing a cold wet cloth on my father's forehead. He looked at us with a relieved face. "He seems to be alright, though he's still in sleep paralysis. He'll be alright if we can be able to wake him up."

"Without doing the storm ritual?" Katie demanded, as she continued to massage my back. "How's that even remotely possible?"

"It isn't possible," I muttered. Everyone glared at me like I interrupted on an important meeting.

"How do you know that?" Chiron asked.

I brought out my diary from my now ruined jacket pocket.

"All the information about the ritual is on page eighty seven, before one of the entries," I answered simply.

Paris, who stood quietly at Chiron's side during the conversation, frowned deeply. "How can you possibly remember what page it's on?"

"It was something that I did in all my time in Cyclone City's prison cell," I explained as calmly as I could. "It's not just diary entries in there."

Jake took the diary and opened up the selected page. He began to read out loud: "The storm ritual, according to some of the guards I reluctantly asked about, is the sacrificial ritual rite when a god can be awakened from his or her deep slumber. The ritual consists of animals and two children of the chosen god, where they have to pay a tribute of their blood to wake their immortal parent. But it is also specific because it has to be the two most powerful children of the century. Only their blood can be strong enough to wake the god. There is no other way to wake a god. The Storm Guard have tried hundreds of different ways to do so, but only this...ritual can be effective. End of notes."

Jake closed the diary and passed it to me.

Chiron nodded his head in approval. "It sounds true enough. There's no other effective way possible. It has to be done by blood."

"Unless we can pour water on him," another demigod said from the group of students. "Marcus, you once said before that you feel better when you are dosed with water, especially if it was salt water. Maybe it could work for your father."

I looked at Chloe with eyebrows raised. She shrugged. "We could try it out, but I doubt it will work. Poseidon has been away from any of the water sources for over a year."

"I'm already on it." Hermes grabbed one of the many bottles of water from one of the students and poured the clear liquid over Poseidon's face.

Everyone held their breath, afraid that Hermes could've made a mistake. My father glowed with energy, filling the room with eerie, neon lights. Then, surprising me out of my skin, Poseidon moved his arms ever so slightly. He groaned in his sleep, and I swear...I could've thought he said something.

I got to my feet and walked cautiously towards my supposed–to–be sleeping dad, with Chloe close at my heels. I crouched at the edge of the sofa where he lay down, thinking that he was only half awake, hoping he would somehow hear me, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was impossible.

"Father," I whispered in his ear. "Can you hear me?"

Poseidon's whole body trembled, like he was having a nightmare or he was in pain. Both his hands were clenched into tight fists, like he was ready to attack at any moment, regardless of who he might attack.

"It's me," I continued. "It's Marcus."

Poseidon seemed to be mouthing something. I craned my ear so I could hear what he was speaking. They were in a rush of words, and to make it more complicated, it was in fully accented Italian. I didn't understand a word he was saying.

"Chloe," I said to my sister. "You know how to speak Italian – tell us what he's saying."

Chloe crouched down and leaned in to listen to our godly father. That's one thing about my sister that got me impressed the most. She could understand several languages at once and could even speak in the chosen language. It was the same for me. As I watched, Chloe frowned in concentration while she tried to decipher what Poseidon was saying, which sounded more like a drunken whisper.

She spoke, "Prince of tempeste viene il vostro senso. Fuori di qui."

"What's he saying?" Katie muttered. "I can tell that the accent is Italian, but I don't know the words."

Chloe looked at me. "He's saying, 'Prince of storms comes your way, get out of here.'"

Everyone was shocked, and soon everyone was muttering to each other, just before there was a loud thumping noise outside the basement door. It was a loud knock and not very patient. It made me feel on edge.

"Open the door brother," a very sinister voice called from the other side of the bronze door. "Don't be foolish. Come out and embrace your fate."

I really wished I could just forget that voice...

Proculus, the Cyclone Prince, was standing outside.

"Will that door hold?" I asked Chiron.

"That door is tougher than you think," One of the students answered, so I turned around to look at him.

I looked at the burly built teenaged boy, with greased–back hair and an axe in both hands. I knew in that instant that he must be a son of Hephaestus, the blacksmith god. "It's made out of pure bronze, melded together with steel. It's three feet thick and can't be open easily from the outside. You need a key card in order to do that." He pulled out a plastic card from his pocket. "And I've got the only one with me."

Jake looked at the metallic door. "The only thing strong enough to get through that kind of door is a full grown Cyclopes."

"Marcus," Proculus's voice called from the other side of the door. "Come on, I only want to talk. That's all."

I hesitated at first. For all I knew, he was trying to draw me out into the open.

Then I shouted, "What makes you think that I'll take your word for it? All you've done is lie and torment."

"Brother, I swear on all banks of the River Styx that all I want is to talk to you. That's all."

Chiron leaned down to whisper to me. "That's the most serious oath you can make. I think he meant what he said."

"That's what scares me," I whispered back. "I know he's lying."

I pounded my fist on the door. "Is it only me you want to talk to? Or does Chloe need to come out as well?"

"Just you," Proculus replied. "It's just me out here. All the rest of my men are positioned outside the school. Let's talk this out, one prince to another."

All the air got sucked out of me in that instant. One prince to another. Those words filled my lungs with liquid rage, making my chest heave with every breath I took. But at the same time...he almost sounded like he was actually trying to be diplomatic. I couldn't just attack him in cold blood. I looked at Chloe, raising my eyes in question.

We'll pounce on him if he's lying, she thought to me. But in the meantime, don't let him take you back. Refuse anything he gives you and whatever you do, don't get your butt kicked by this guy.

Okay then, I answered back. Get everyone ready just in case.

You got it, bro.

I crossed over to the son of Hephaestus. "Open the door."

Katie gaped in astonishment. "Are you crazy?"

Jake looked at me and back at the door. "What if he takes you back to Cyclone City for the ritual? We'll never see you again!"

In answer, I activated Poseidon's trident. It hummed with power. "Like hell he is."

The blacksmith god's son inserted his key card into the doors lock combination panel and the door made a clicking sound, like the sound of what might be clashing swords. He looked at me with a nervous face and slowly opened the door. I pointed the trident outwards, ready to fire just in case.

Proculus stood in the burnt corridor, wearing protective body armour. His eyes were a much darker shade of yellow than before. He had no weapon, which confused me. He didn't wear his blood red cloak like he normally did, so he looked more or less like an average modern day teenaged boy. He wore jeans and he was wearing a simple grey jumper underneath his breastplate.

Once he saw the trident pointed directly at his chest, he raised his hands instantly in surrender. Something like alarm sparked in his eyes.

"I swear to the god's," I snarled, "if you make a move against me, you'll wish you should've left me alone."

"Understood," Proculus said calmly. He tilted his head to the side, like he was thinking what I would do next. "I only want to sort things out between us."

He extended his hand down the hallway. "Let's talk."