CHAPTER TEN / VOL. I, MAD GIRL'S LOVE SONG

IN A WAY, remembering is easy and forgetting is hard—or it'd be that way in any other instance. After the fire, Will found herself being haunted by ghosts from her past and the most difficult part was having to always remember that night. She'd even swallowed her pride and prayed to the gods that the memories would fade, but nothing ever came from it. No one was there to heed her prayers and every night she dreamt of memories that weren't hers to keep. But now, Will can't recall anything—even as she digs in the furthest crevice of her mind, rummaging through all of the dark places that hold more bad than good.

She can see Leo and Jason browsing through the menswear while Piper talks to the princess, but even though there's something unsettling about this entire situation, nothing comes to mind. Now, more than anything, Will wishes she could remember. She'd take the fire and burning flesh just to see the image of her mother's gentle face and the sound of her songbird voice.

Will longs for the comfort of her mother's raspy voice and the way her eyes would crinkle in the corners when she smiled, cheeks pinched up towards the heavens. How her hands were soft and smooth like the skin of a peach—or maybe they were rough like stone, calloused from labor. Even as she strains, grasping blindly at fleeting memories, Will can't seem to recall the smallest detail. For a moment she forgets about her mother altogether; forgets about Luke and his betrayal; Annabeth and all that she's done for her; Sherman and Will who are still waiting for her to come home. They slip into the crevices of her mind, easing between the floorboards and going forgotten. Forgetting should be hard, but sometimes it's too easy.

She's trying to concentrate, pushing through the fog that fights to render her useless, but the itch isn't enough. Or maybe Will is weaker than she thought. The numbness is pressing against the barriers, threatening to rise to the top and slip over the wall. She should be impenetrable—a warrior in every sense of the word—but this unseen force would leave her docile and vulnerable. Nothing like a warrior at all.

Piper is next to her, arm hooked through Will's as the daughter of Ares' thoughts seem to wander and her expression goes blank every once in a while. It's terrifying for Piper to think that she might be alone in this, but her devotion wins in the end. She's not a coward after all.

          "You want them shopping for their deaths?" she asks the princess, glancing beside her at Will who furrows her brow with a sharp frown on her hardened features.

The woman hums, leaning down to blow dust off a display case of swords before straightening her back like a needle. She turns to Piper with a smile like a serpent. Piper is just waiting for a forked tongue to slip from between her pearly teeth. Will, on the other hand, is looking like she wants nothing more than to rip the princess' teeth from her gums until it is revealed. If the princess notices Will's bloodthirsty expression, she certainly doesn't let it show.

          "I'm a seer, my dear. I know your little secret. But we don't want to dwell on that, do we? The boys are having such fun."

All three of them look towards the boys who are browsing through the menswear, laughing at a tacky raccoon hat with a twitching tail and tiny, pattering feet. Jason is sifting through the sportswear, blue eyes looking stormier than before as if the same fog has thickened. Will is watching him intently, though he doesn't even glance at her, when something strikes her suddenly.

          "A secret? What about a secret?" Her lips are pulled into a frown which cracks the dried blood, but Will really can't be bothered with anything at the moment. She doesn't like being lied to—that much she remembers.

          Piper glares at the princess, changing the topic quickly. "Who are you?"

Will doesn't mind anyway. She's already forgotten even mentioning it. Truthfully, some part of this puts her at ease. Her mind has never been this torpid and unburdened. Usually the only thing she thinks about is what kind of monsters lurk in the shadows and about all the things she can't go back to. So much of her life has been about survival that this momentary blip makes her wish it could always be like this.

          "I told you, my dear. I'm the Princess of Colchis," she coos as if Piper is some small, simple child that asks too many questions with answers she can't possibly comprehend. Everything about her tone is condescending and Piper feels a spark of rage as Will's hand tightens in the crook of her elbow. She wonders if it's Will's powers affecting her but brushes the matter off. After all, Piper has always resented people who thought they were better than others. We are all the same where it counts, bones and all. We all die the same harrowing death in the end.

          "Where's Colchis?" Piper asks stiffly.

          The woman grows somber, holding a faraway look in her eyes. "Where was Colchis, you mean. My father ruled the far shores of the Black Sea, as far to the east as a Greek ship could sail in those days. But Colchis is no more—lost eons ago."

          "Eons?" Piper echoes. A bad feeling floods her chest as she glances over at her oblivious companions. "How old are you?"

          The princess laughs mirthfully, eyeing Piper with amusement. "A lady should avoid asking or answering that question. Let's just say the... immigration process to enter your country took quite a while. My patron finally brought me through. She made all this possible." She waves her hand around to display the grandiose of the department store. The illusion is pretty, but something ugly always lies in wait beneath the surface.

          "Your patron..."

          "Oh, yes. She doesn't bring just anyone through, mind you—only those who have special talents, such as me. And really, she insists on so little—a store entrance that must be underground so she can," she hums thoughtfully like trying to form the right word on her tongue, "monitor my clientele; and a favor now and then. In exchange for a new life? Really, it was the best bargain I'd made in centuries."

Piper feels her lip twitch, wariness spreading throughout her body. She wants to gather up her friends and run—run like she's always been so good at doing. But Jason interrupts her before she can articulate her thoughts.

          "Hey, check it out!" He's holding up a purple shirt with rips through the front that leave the garment barely holding itself together. Jason frowns. "Why does this look so familiar?"

          "Jason, it's like yours," Piper says pointedly, frustration seeping through her words. "Now we really have to leave." That's when she takes the time to notice the absence of warmth in the crook of her elbow where Will's hand had previously grasped for something akin to comfort. Piper's eyes flicker up quickly, searching the store before a wave of relief lapses over her. She spots Will in the weapons section holding up an axe that is almost as big as she is. Next, she picks up a dagger, swinging it in front of her sharply before pulling it back into a fighting stance. Her lips are pulled into a straight line, no hazy shadows lingering in her eyes. An inkling of hope emerges in Piper that maybe Will is gaining control, but her attention is soon pulled back to Medea.

          "Nonsense," the princess chides. "The boys aren't done, are they? And yes, my dear. Those shirts are very popular—trade-ins from previous customers. It suits you."

Leo lifts up an orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt that looks identical to Will's save for the gaping, blood-stained hole through the middle. There's an assortment of armor and garb with remnants of blood and corrosion—each one looking more sinister than the last. It wouldn't have been anything new to Will, but it should have been enough to put the rest of them on edge—if only they'd been in their right minds.

          "Your Highness," Piper says, trying to sound brave though the waver in her voice betrays her. She's glad that Will is on the other side of the room, browsing through weapons as if she's at the market, because Piper's nerves have gotten the best of her and though she tries to keep a stiff upper lip, her eyes reveal alarm that won't mean anything without the bravery to act on it. Still, she manages to ask, "Why don't you tell the boys how you betrayed your family? I'm sure they'd like to hear that story."

The most reaction comes from Leo and Jason who turn to the women, suddenly interested with the conversation. The princess, however, doesn't even flinch at the mention of it. From what Piper remembers of the story, it should have been something that stirred up many lost emotions for the older woman, but her visage gives away nothing. She thinks that if Will weren't in a daze then she'd probably be able to read the princess' abstruse expression or the little things that would otherwise go unnoticed. But Piper has never been that good at reading people—or she's never had to be. Whenever she wants to know something she asks, and in turn they tell her.

          "More story?" Leo asks eagerly. His eyes light up like a child and he immediately drops the shirt that he had been holding up and comparing to Will's bright orange shirt as she stood at a distance.

          "I like more story!" Jason agrees, nodding dumbly. Will glances toward the group at the sound of his ardent voice, allowing her gaze to rest on each of her companions like she's taking stock of her belongings before turning her attention back to the silver dagger in her hands. Her fingers wrap firmly around the hilt, watching how it catches the light before a snarling wolf appears in its reflection—jagged fangs and lips brimming with saliva. The dagger clatters to the ground noisily, but when she retrieves it from the floor it is just a dagger that gleams at the edges. There's a tug in her gut that doesn't go unnoticed.

          The princess draws attention away from the noise, her irritation getting the better of her as she sends Piper a vexed look. "Oh, one will do strange things for love, Piper. You should know that. I fell for that young hero, in fact, because your mother, Aphrodite, had me under a spell. If it wasn't for her—" she stops herself short, a bitter smile gracing her sharp features. "But I can't hold a grudge against a goddess, can I?"

          Piper swallows thickly. She knows how unreleased rage requires a substitute. "But that hero took you with him when he fled Colchis, didn't he? He married you just as he promised."

          The Princess' eyes flicker with anger. "At first," she admits, "it seemed he would keep his word. But even after I helped him steal my father's treasure, he still needed my help. As we fled, my brother's fleet came after us. His warships overtook us. He would have destroyed us, but I convinced my brother to come aboard our ship first and talk under a flag of truce." Her eyes are downcast and though there is anger swirling in them, there is also something much more somber. "He trusted me."

          "And you killed your own brother," Piper accuses, finally remembering the story that she'd heard about a woman driven mad by love or betrayal or jealousy—or whatever other ugly things lurk in the deepest caverns of the human soul.

          "What?" Jason inquires, a frown slipping across his petal lips. For a moment Piper feels hope bubble up, thinking how scared she feels to be alone in this. "Killed your own—"

          "No," the princess snaps. "Those stories are lies. It was my new husband and his men who killed my brother, though they couldn't have done it without my deception. They threw his body into the sea, and the pursuing fleet had to stop and search for it so they could give my brother a proper burial. This gave us time to get away. All this, I endured for my husband. And he forgot our bargain. He betrayed me in the end."

          Jason still looked uncertain, wavering gaze drifting between the princess and Piper. "What did he do?"

          The woman holds a bloodied toga up to his chest, serpent eyes finding his with a look of bitter mirth. "Don't you know the story, my boy? You of all people should. You were named for him."

          "Jason," Piper states, understanding taking over her disgusted expression. "The original Jason. But then you're—you should be dead!"

          The princess smiles. "As I said, a new life in a new country. Certainly I made mistakes. I turned my back on my own people. I was called a traitor, a thief, a liar, a murderess. But I acted out of love." She turned to the boys with a pitiful look that strengthens her hold over them. "Wouldn't you do the same for someone you loved, my dears?"

          "Oh, sure," Jason says. His gaze drifts away from her.

          "Okay," Leo chimes.

          "Guys!" Piper exclaims in frustration, fists clenching so tight that her nails leave crescent moons against her flesh. "Don't you see who she is? Don't you—"

          "Let's continue, shall we?" the princess interrupts with a coy smile. "I believe you wanted to talk about a price for the storm spirits—and your satyr." She turns back to Piper while the boys wander off to the second floor obediently. "Why don't you collect your friend over there," she hums, gesturing with a sharp nail towards Will. "Something tells me she shouldn't be left to her own devices..."

Piper's anger is momentarily suppressed by her confusion, but the princess glides away before she can get a word in edgewise, and instead is left to trail over to Will. The girl in question, much to Piper's surprise, is watching the princess' retreating figure with an unreadable expression plastered across her face.

          "Please tell me you're back to normal," Piper begs, grabbing Will's forearm as she looks to her with concern. She knows that Will is not fully herself since she allows Piper to grab her arm at all, but something sad in the girl's eyes trumps her desperation momentarily.

          "You figured it out. The itch," Will murmurs.

          "Yeah," Piper says plainly. "She's a psychotic princess who betrayed her own people and killed her brother. We have to get out of here," Piper stresses.

          But Will just frowns, cracking the dried blood that spilled down to her lips.
"She wanted to leave Colchis for a reason. Something there made her desperate to escape. Maybe it was worth killing for..."

          Piper drops her arm, a similar frown appearing. "Are you defending her?"

          "No," she says quickly, though her words are quiet and unbecoming. Not at all like her. "But it's not black and white. I think her story is more convoluted than it seems. She doesn't kill just to kill. She kills for a reason. She wasn't driven mad by love. Everything she did was premeditated. She's intelligent—strategic. That makes her dangerous."

          Piper falters. "You're... right."

          Will turns to leave, pulling her hand away from her backpack as Piper follows her. The daughter of Aphrodite doesn't notice the movement and Will tucks her hands into her pockets. As soon as they are on the escalator, Piper turns to Will and asks the question that had been on her mind since they first arrived in Illinois. "Something's wrong, isn't it? And I mean, not about the princess. It's because we're here—in Chicago," she clarifies.

Will eyes look much less hazy and instead she is filled with bitterness that grows like a weed. She closes her eyes, but that doesn't stop the fire from spreading across her eye lids like pulsating fireworks. Eventually, she speaks up, but her own voice is swallowed by the sound of screaming.

"We shouldn't leave them alone with her," she reminds and walks off the escalator, desperate to leave the surfacing memories behind her. Piper frowns but agrees nonetheless and follows her over to the rest of their companions.

          "No way," Leo gapes. "Is that an armored forge?"

          The princess smiles slyly. "You have good taste. This is the H-2000, designed by Hephaestus himself. Hot enough to melt Celestial bronze or Imperial gold."

          Jason flinches, subconsciously stretching his hand down to his jacket pocket. "Imperial gold?" he echoes.

          The princess nods, a coy smile playing on her blood red lips. "Yes, my dear. Like that weapon so cleverly concealed in your pocket. To be properly forged, Imperial gold had to be consecrated in the Temple of Jupiter on Capitoline Hill in Rome. Quite a powerful and rare metal, but like the Roman emperors, quite volatile. Be sure never to break that blade..." Her words are ominous and hang in the air like a dark cloud, but the pleasant smile she gives washes away any worry from the boys. Piper, however, can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She continues. "Rome was after my time, of course, but I do hear stories. And now over here—this golden throne is one of my finest luxury items. Hephaestus made it as a punishment for his mother, Hera. Sit in it and you'll be immediately trapped."

Will knows that some piece of the puzzle is missing, some vital detail that could bring the whole picture into focus if only she knew. The truth would come out eventually, and most people were reassured by this. But Will had never been one to leave well enough alone.

Leo, in his dazed state, seems to take the princess' words as an order and moves towards the throne in a daze.

          "Leo, don't!" Piper warns, grabbing his arm in a vice grip.

          He blinks. "How much for both?"

          "Oh, the seat I could let you have for five great deeds," she comments with a swift wave of her hand as if this price is simple enough. "The forge, seven years of servitude. And for only a bit of your strength—" She continues to lead Leo further away, listing prices for various items.

          Piper looks torn for a moment, glancing between all three of her companions before finally coming to a decision. She grips Will's arm which would be dangerous in any other situation, but for now she can't be concerned about her own well-being. "Are you in your right mind?"

          "Enough," Will responds.

          "That's all I need," Piper says with a small smile. "You have to snap Jason out of it. I can't leave Leo alone with her. God knows what she'd have him do for her. So, I need you to snap Jason out of it for me, OK?"

          Will glances at Jason who looks eager to rejoin Leo and the princess. The only thing stopping him is Will's hand clutching the hood of his windbreaker while he leans so far forward that he almost drops. "Sure," she responds. And as soon as Piper smiles in relief and leaves earshot, she says, "Any means necessary."

          Jason frowns, a faraway look in his eyes. "Can we go—"

He doesn't finish his sentence before his face smacks into the awaiting ground, splattering blood across the marble floors and leaving it streaked down his lips. Will's once closed fist is splayed open, no longer clenched around his jacket as it had been before. Jason's hand reaches up to clutch his bloodied nose as he twists around on the ground to see Will hovering over him apathetically like a looming god.

          "What was that for?"

"Why does everything have to be for a reason," she asks, quirking a brow. "Why can't I just do things I enjoy without having to explain myself?"

          The real answer is: I wanted to hurt you, so I did.

Jason looks confused by her words, brows furrowed and lips twisted into a frown. "What?"

"Listen, Flyboy," Will snarls, pulling him up easily by the arm. "She's charmspeaking you. Can't you feel it? Like you can't think straight and you feel like your mind doesn't belong to you anymore..."

He shrugs. "I'm pretty used to that feeling. None of this really feels real at all. This whole thing. Being on that bus, meeting you... it all just feels like a fever dream." Will can feel her shoulders drop, a frown twisting onto her lips. She'd never really considered how lost Jason must feel—how scared he must be to know nothing about himself. "I just keep wondering when I'll wake up." He's conscious enough to not tell her that he doesn't really know if he'd want to wake up anyway. That would mean losing even more.

"Well, it's not a dream," Will retorts. "This is all very real. We need to get out of here." The longer she's away from the princess, the sharper her mind seems to get. Memories sit in her mind as if they'd never left and that gut-wrenching feeling telling her to flee comes back in tidal waves.

"But why?" Jason asks. "The princess seems nice enough." And then his expression turns bitter. "But you don't like her, do you? You don't like anyone." If Jason were even somewhat in his right mind, he would never let these words pass his lips. But they've been lingering on his mind since that morning, and now there was nothing there to stop them from spilling out. "I have an idea," he says suddenly, almost mockingly, in a way that doesn't sound like him at all. "Why don't we just pretend everything's OK? After all, we lie to ourselves all the time..."

          Will is unflinching, although she knows exactly where those words came from. Before she can get a word in edgewise, Jason continues. "Did you want me and Piper to be together, even if it wasn't real? Why would you want that for someone?"

          "Because sometimes having someone is better than having no one at all," she snaps.

          "Well, I want something real," Jason grumbles out like a child. His eyes are rolling storm clouds and something electric hangs in the air. There's a kind of grief in his eyes, as if somehow she has let him down once again.

          Will lets out an exasperated sigh, running a calloused hand through her matted hair in irritation. Her fingers get caught in the tresses and she almost wants to cut it all off with Éleos in a fit of anger. However, she fights the urge and pushes past her vexation, grabbing Jason by the shoulders as he looks down from her eyes. "We don't have time for this. We need—"

          "Children," the princess calls out with Leo and Piper in tow, both seemingly alright for now. "If you please, we will now see what you came for. That is what you want, yes?"

Piper is glaring daggers in the back of her head, willing herself to have powers that will make the princess spontaneously combust. Piper can't fathom letting anything happen to the people she loves. This has always been her nature. What lengths wouldn't she go to for her loved ones?

Will, on the other hand, cannot fathom anything at all. Her mind is going numb again and her grip on Jason's shoulders loosens until her hands fall to her sides. Piper notices the empty look in her eyes and curses. She wants to cry but Will would scorn her for doing such a thing so she follows behind the group, clinging to Jason and Will's arms for comfort. The princess looks back up from the base of the escalator with a serpentine smile and a cruel glint in her eyes. This is a game and Piper is losing.

"Hey," Leo shouts in excitement, "Coach Hedge looks okay!"

Everything else goes forgotten as they rush over to the large gilded cage. The satyr is as still as a statue, mouth open in a war cry and club raised over his head like he's going into battle. Piper feels her face contort at the sight of the horns sticking out of his unruly hair and his cloven hooves. She's still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this is where she is and these are the people that she is with. Piper feels like this is some kind of dream she just keeps waiting to wake up from.

"Yes," the princess says. "I always keep my wares in good condition. We can certainly barter for the storm spirits and the satyr. A package deal. If we come to terms, I'll even throw in the vial of healing potion, and you can go in peace." She throws Piper a shrewd look. "That's better than starting unpleasantness, isn't it, dear?"

Instinct tells her that this woman couldn't be trusted. Will had told her the same, so she opens her mouth and closes it. Leo and Jason were looking at her and nodding urgently, but they couldn't be relied on at this moment. And Will just frowns, staring up at the skylight. "We can negotiate," Piper says carefully.

          "Totally!" Leo agrees eagerly. "Name your price."

          "Leo!" Piper glares at the boy who can't be bothered to notice.

          The princess chuckles. "Name my price? Perhaps not the best haggling strategy, my boy, but at least you know a thing's value. Freedom is very valuable indeed. You would ask me to release this satyr, who attacked my storm winds—"

          "Who attacked us." Piper is quick to interject.

          Her Highness shrugged. "As I said, my patron asks me for small favors from time to time. Sending the storm spirits to abduct you—that was one. I assure you it was nothing personal. And no harm done, as you came here, in the end, of your own free will! At any rate, you want the satyr freed, and you want my storm spirits—who are very valuable servants, by the way—so you can hand them over to that tyrant Aeolus. Doesn't seem quite fair, does it? The price will be high."

          Piper was silent for a moment, but even Will could see the gears turning. "You're Medea," Piper says firmly. "You helped the original Jason steal the Golden Fleece. You're one of the most evil villains in Greek mythology. We can't trust her," she says to her friends with all of the sincerity she could muster. Her voice doesn't waver this time—instead it is strong and rolls like thunder. Her words have the desired affect.

          Jason steps away from the sorceress and Leo looks around like he's unaware of how got here in the first place. "What are we doing, again?" he asks.

          The princess steps in quickly, grasping to the slipping hold she has over them. "It's true, I'm Medea. But I'm so misunderstood. Oh, Piper, my dear, you don't know what it was like for women in the old days. We had no power, no leverage. Often we couldn't even choose our own husbands. But I was different. I chose my own destiny by becoming a sorceress. Is that so wrong? I made a deal with Jason: my help to win the fleece, in exchange for his love. A fair deal. He became a famous hero! Without me, he would've died unknown on the shores of Colchis."

          Jason scowls so suddenly that it almost stuns Piper. "If you're Medea then... you died three thousand years ago. You came back from the Underworld?"

          "Death no longer holds me, young hero," Medea says coyly. "Thanks to my patron, I am flesh and blood again."

          "You... re-formed?" Leo blinks. "Like a monster?"

          Medea spreads her fingers, steam hissing from the tips like snakes. "You have no idea what's happening, do you, my dears? It is so much worse than a stirring of monsters from Tartarus. My patron knows that giants and monsters are not her greatest servants. I am mortal. I learn from my mistakes. And now that I have returned to the living, I will not be cheated again. Now, here is my price for what you ask."

          "Guys," Piper says. "The original Jason left Medea because she was crazy and bloodthirsty."

          "Lies!" Medea cries, face contorting into something terrifying. Wrath in any form, even on the prettiest face, is enough to curdle blood.

          "On the way back from Colchis, Jason's ship landed at another kingdom, and Jason agreed to dump Medea and marry the king's daughter."

          "After I bore him two children!" Medea bellows. "Still he broke his promise! I ask you, was that right?"

Jason and Leo shake their heads, but Piper doesn't stop there. And she couldn't—not when it came to her friends. The lengths she would go to protect the ones she loves...

          "It may not have been right," she responds, "but neither was Medea's revenge. She murdered her own children to get back at Jason. She poisoned his new wife and fled the kingdom."

          Medea snarls like a cornered animal. "An invention to ruin my reputation! The people of the Corinth—that unruly mob—killed my children and drove me out. My children." Something in her eyes seems genuine. Will can see that the grief for her children is real, even if nothing else is. "Jason did nothing to protect me. He robbed me of everything. So yes, I sneaked back into the palace and poisoned his lovely new bride. It was only fair—a suitable price."

          "You're insane," Piper accuses.

          "I am a victim!" Medea contends. "I died with my dreams shattered, but no longer. I know now not to trust heroes. When they come asking for treasures, they will pay a heavy price. Especially when the one asking has the name of Jason!"

          The fountain turns red—so dark that it's almost black like the blood that leaks from Jason's nose and the blood that is still smeared on Will's face. Piper draws her dagger but her hand trembles and the illusion of bravery falls flat. "Guys, it's time to go. Now."

          "Before you've closed the deal?" Medea inquires. "What of your quest, boys? And my price is so easy. Did you know this fountain is magic? If a dead man were to be thrown into it, even if he was chopped to pieces, he would pop back out fully formed—stronger and more powerful than ever."

          "Seriously?"

          "Leo, she's lying," Piper stresses, shoulders still shaking with silent fury. "She did that trick with somebody before—a king, I think. She convinced his daughters to cut him to pieces so he could come out of the water young and healthy again, but it just killed him!"

          "Ridiculous," Medea says easily and Piper can hear the power brimming in each syllable. "Leo, Jason—my price is so simple. Why don't you two fight? If you get injured, or even killed, no problem. We'll just throw you into the fountain and you'll be better than ever. You do want to fight, don't you? You resent each other! And you, Will, well you're a daughter of Ares," she coos, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Do you feel that anger in the air?" They didn't notice it before but suddenly it can't be ignored. The rage hanging in the air is so thick that it's palpable on their skin, searing as it burns them up inside. "You're already doing what you do best."

Piper feels something dark stir in her. Will's pulsating animosity gets the better of Piper and she can't fight the urge to rip her dagger through Medea's flesh just for laying a hand on one of her friends. Then she looks to Leo and Jason who seem to be glaring at each other as though they'd never been friends at all. The urge to kill bleeds through all of them.

Leo scowls. "Jason always has to be the hero. He always has to save the day and no one is ever good enough for him."

"You're so clingy, Leo," Jason bites back. "And you never take anything seriously. You can't even fix a stupid fucking dragon."

"Stop!" Piper pleads, but it's too late. Jason draws his sword and Leo pulls a hammer from his tool belt. Will just watches with interest, radiating a burning hunger for bloodshed.

"Let them go, Piper," Medea urges. "I'm doing you a favor. Let it happen now, and it will make your choice so much easier. Enceladus will be pleased. You could have your father back today!"

Medea's power didn't work on her, yet Piper couldn't help but consider her words. She wanted nothing more than to have her father back with her and for all of this to be reduced to brutal memories. Then she has to stop and think—really think—what wouldn't she do for the ones she loves?

"You work for Enceladus," she accuses.

Medea laughs heartily. "Serve a giant? No. But we all serve the same greater cause—a patron you cannot begin to challenge. Walk away, child of Aphrodite. This does not have to be your death, too. Save yourself, and your father can go free."

Leo and Jason were still standing opposite each other, weapons raised as they stood still. They looked unsteady and uncertain, waiting for any order that would be given.

"Listen to me, girl." Medea plucks a diamond from her bracelet and tosses it into the fountain, saying, "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me the office of Tristan McLean."

An image starts to appear—one that is easily recognizable to Piper. Sitting behind the mahogany desk, talking on the phone, is Jane, her father's assistant. "Hello, Jane," Medea greets.

Jane hangs up the phone, turning to the shimmering image. "How can I help you, ma'am? Hello, Piper."

"You—" Piper is so angry that the words hardly form on the tip of her tongue. She's never felt this violent before.

"Yes, child," Medea drawls. "Your father's assistant. Quite easy to manipulate. An organized mind for a mortal, but incredibly weak."

"Thank you, ma'am," Jane says as if receiving a compliment.

"Don't mention it. "Medea waves it off. "I just wanted to congratulate you, Jane. Getting Mr. McLean to leave town so suddenly, take his jet to Oakland without alerting the press or the police—well done! No one seems to know where he's gone. And telling him his daughter's life was on the line—that was a nice touch to get his cooperation."

"Yes," Jane agrees vacantly. "He was quite cooperative when he believed Piper was in danger."

Piper looks down at her trembling hands and the dagger that lies clutched between her pale fingers. Her gleaming reflection is that of scared girl with no power left in her at all.

"I may have new orders for you, Jane," Medea announces, sending a look to Piper. "If the girl cooperates, it may be time for Mr. McLean to come home. Would you arrange a suitable cover story for his absence, just in case? And I imagine the poor man will need some time in a psychiatric hospital."

"Yes, ma'am. I will stand by."

The image fades altogether, and Medea turns to Piper. "There, you see?"

"You lured my dad into a trap," Piper articulates, rage piercing each word like a dagger. "You helped the giant—"

"Oh, please, dear. You'll work yourself into a fit! I've been preparing for this war for years, even before I was brought back to life. I'm a seer, as I said. I can tell the future as well as your little oracle. Years ago, still suffering in the Fields of Punishment, I had a vision of the eight in your so-called Great Prophecy. I saw your friend Leo here, and saw that he would be an important enemy someday. I stirred the consciousness of my patron, gave her this information, and she managed to wake just a little—just enough to visit him. And Will here... well," Medea sneers, "she did it all on her own."

"Leo's mother," Piper realizes. She doesn't dwell much on what Medea said about Will. She wouldn't know and Will would likely never tell her. "Leo, listen to this! She helped get your mother killed!"

"Uh-huh," Leo mumbles dumbly, seemingly unfazed by this new revelation. He frowns at his hammer. "So... I just attack Jason? That's okay?"

"Perfectly safe," Medea promises. "And Jason, strike him hard. Show me you are worthy of your namesake."

"No!" Piper commands ardently. "Jason, Leo—she's tricking you. Put down your weapons. And Will, snap out of it!"

The sorceress rolls her eyes as if Piper is some meek child. "Please, girl. You're no match for me. I trained with my aunt, the immortal Circe. I can drive men mad or heal them with my voice. What hope do these puny young heroes have against me? Now, boys, kill each other!"

"Jason, Leo, listen to me." Piper's voice is heavy with every ounce of fear and pain and love that she feels in that moment—each emotion clinging to her words like it is the only thing keeping them alive. She doesn't care how weak she appears or how she can't control this situation any more than she can save her companions. These are the lengths she would go to save her loved ones. "Medea is charming you. It's part of her magic. You're best friends. Don't fight each other. Fight her!"

They hesitate and in that moment everything changes. The illusion shatters like glass.

Jason blinks. "Leo, was I just about to stab you?"

"Something about my mother..." Leo frowns before turning to Medea with an angry expression. "You... you're working for Dirt Woman. You sent her to the machine shop." He lifts his hammer threateningly. "Lady, I got a three-pound hammer with your name on it."

Medea sneers. "No matter. I'll simply collect payment another way." She presses one of the mosaic tiles on the floor, and the building starts to rumble as if it's coming to life. Piper then turns to Will, concern washing over her face as she pulls her closer. Will blinks. Once, twice, before she pulls her sword from its sheath and turns to Medea. Jason has gained awareness sooner and swings at the sorceress, but hits nothing but air as Medea dissolves and reappears by the escalator.

"You're slow, hero!" She jeers, laughter echoing throughout the open space. "Take your frustration out on my pets!"

Before anyone can move, the giant bronze sundials at either end of the fountain swing open. The only sound is of bated breath before two snarling gold dragons crawl from the pits, beady orange eyes watching them like prey.

"So that's what's in the kennels," Leo says meekly.

They spread their wings and let out a serpentine hiss, dragging their claws against the ground as if they can sense each person's fear.

"Don't look them in the eye!" Jason warns. "They'll paralyze you."

"Indeed!" Medea smiles from the escalator, leaning against the handrail without a care in the world. It's not hard to see how history could paint her as a monster. "These two dears have been with me a long time—sun dragons, you know, gifts from my grandfather Helios. They pulled my chariot when I left Corinth, and now they will be your destruction."

The dragons lunge, but Will isn't focused on the towering beasts. She's already running towards the escalator, leaving her companions to fend for themselves, and instead focusing on Medea who's almost at the second floor. Instinct comes flooding back to her. She ignores whoever calls her name, rushing to catch up to the princess who was heading towards the next escalator. Will takes in a deep breath as she continues to climb, trying to get back to the person she was—the one who wore blood like war paint and would tear through a battlefield like second nature. But that person is slipping away because the only thing she sees is fire. And the only thing she hears is her mother's screams. And Will can't imagine why her whole word has been consumed by one night that gripped her and refused to let her go. How one meager flame could burn down her entire world.

By the time that Will reaches the top, Medea is already at the potions counter, the swan-shaped vial gripped between her slender fingers. She recognizes it as the one that causes painful death. The princess smiles at her, teeth bared like a wolf. It reminds her of her father, and that's all it takes. Will draws one of the small daggers strapped to her thigh, pulls it back and releases in the span of a single second. The next sound that comes is a shrill cry.

Medea grips her wrist with pain coating every inch of her face. Her hand is pinned open by the dagger still imbedded in it and the potion lays broken at her feet. "I should kill you for what you've done," she snarls, though her face twists in agony as she moves too quickly.

Will smiles, taking a threatening step forward with a predatory look in her eyes. Medea doesn't look so angry anymore. She's backed into a corner. "You should," Will agrees. She's herself again, ready to tear through flesh with no remorse.

"I-I can help you," she pleads, stumbling backwards as she grasps for another potion. Will flings another dagger carelessly where her hand would have been, shattering the vial and leaving the liquid splattered across Medea's good hand. She hisses as the skin starts to burn. "I'm a seer! I know the future, I know the past. I know all things. You won't kill me..."

"You sure about that?" Will taunts.

Medea doesn't look certain at all. "You know what it's like to be used by men." She sounds desperate now, digging into the past like nails clenched in a grave. "To want nothing more than to be loved by them. To have their approval."

Her words strike a chord.

Medea notices, but for the wrong reasons. If she really wanted a reaction, she should have mentioned Ares and the love he was never capable of giving. But foolishly, Medea takes the route made for romantics—that of which Will is not. "I was just a young girl maddened by love. Wouldn't you do anything for love?"

"You don't expect me to believe that, do you?" Will scoffs, taking a lazy swing at the sorceress with her sword. She's not in much of a rush. She wants to take her time with this one.

Suddenly Medea's expression flips like a light switch. She doesn't looks so scared anymore, rather she looks bitterly mirthful, as if she knows exactly who the monster before her is. "Oh, you wouldn't. Would you? We're the same, you and I. I can see it in your eyes. you would do anything—no matter the cost, no matter who perished along the way—just as long as you survive. You've certainly been good at that haven't you? And you've left a trail of bodies in your wake."

Medea's words irk her, something that doesn't go unnoticed by either of them. Will's lip twitches and that same harrowing rage begs to be released. But she bides her time like Sherman would, turning her scowl into a small frown.

"Did you love your children?"

"Did I love my children?" she echoes, fury taking over each word. "Did I—" Medea stops herself short, something forlorn forming in her eyes. "Of course I loved them," she laments. "They were the only thing I truly loved."

"So a mob really killed them?" Will inquires unbothered by Medea's genuine emotions.

"Of course," she snaps. "Now, Jason, on the other hand. Well, you're right to believe that this was not a love story. Maybe there was something at one point... I'm certain that I wanted to be loved. But it wasn't what I thought it was. He wasn't capable of love. And neither was I. You understand, don't you?" She turns to Will, umber eyes lighting up with recognition, as if somehow she is a reflection of herself. "Some women just aren't made for love."

Will knows that it's true. It's hard to imagine that anyone could love her, and even harder to imagine her loving them in return. Girls like Will Capote were not deserving of good things—not with all the bad they had done and would still do. A snake sheds its skin but at the end of the day it's still a snake. It doesn't matter how much Will might try to change. In the end, she always be something less than human.

A monster in every way that matters.

That's when Will strikes, taking Medea off guard and hacking deep into the woman's exposed shoulder. She wails as blood starts to seep from the wound, flooding out even more when Will rips the sword from her flesh and sheathes it again, still dripping with eldritch gore. Medea, lost in her own suffocating pain, falls backwards, catching herself on the shelves as dozens of vials collapse above her. The liquids start to smolder and burn, seeping deep into the princess' gown.

"What have you done?" Medea howls, still clutching her mangled flesh as if that will mold it back together. "What have you done..."

She can hear Leo call for Jason somewhere below her, and Piper's tired battle cries and clashing metal. Will knows when a battle is lost and at this rate, none of them will make it out alive. For the first time in a long time, Will stops to ask herself, was it worth it?

"You've doomed us all," Medea pants, still sprawled on the floor as smoke rolls across the carpet, spreading sparks and setting little fires across the room. "It's familiar, isn't it?" She can see the faraway look in Will's eyes. Will is somewhere else entirely now—stuck between volatile flames and a place she could never go back to. Does she even really want to return? "Only now you will be the one to burn," Medea hisses.

Will drowns out the noise as everything turns to a dull hum. The world drops dead for a single moment as her own beating heart reaches her ears. It would have been easier if she was the one consumed by flames. It was the only thing she did deserve.

Still lost in her own head, Will hardly notices the stained glass ceiling shattering above them as kaleidoscopic shards rain down, and Festus swooping into the burning department store. He snatches both beasts between his claws before hurling them into the pits from which they came. That's when Will comes to her senses, glancing over the railing to see Leo cheering his dragon on. Her lip curls, but nonetheless she is relieved to see that none of them perished. After all, Annabeth would be disappointed if she left them to die. Monsters don't care who they cut down, but then again, neither do warriors.

          "That's my boy!" Leo yells, pumping his fist up.

          Medea curses in some ancient language, dragging herself away from the intense heat in sickening desperation. "I will not be abandoned again!" She snatches up the healing potion, dangling it like a prize and looks at Will with an animal fear in her eyes. As manipulative as the sorceress is, this kind of fear can't be forged. "You want your Jason's memory restored? Take me with you!"

Will glances behind her, seeing her companions seated on Festus' back as the dragon begins to ascend with two cages clutched between his claws. She can feel the air turning into acid as she looks back to Medea indifferently.

          "You'll never survive your quest without me!" Medea warns in a last threat against them. "Your boy hero will stay ignorant forever. Take me with you!"

          Will steps closer leaning down and crushing her boot into Medea's hand that tries to reach up desperately. "You were wrong about me. I'm nothing like you. You're still trying to convince yourself you're not the villain. I know what I am. Look at me."

And Medea does. Up until that moment she had been a fool to think that there was something human living inside of Will Capote. There is still dried blood smeared across her face and peeling from her hands as if it is her own skin falling from her body, and the bandage wrapped around her arm starts to fall, blistering flesh taking form as Medea stares at the sight before her. How could anything living exist here? Trembling hands and anguished prayers mean nothing to a monster.

          Will's eyes are alight with flames deep in the sockets, burning so hot they could melt flesh as she says, "Does this look like the face of mercy to you?"

And then she's falling. Plummeting over the railing until she lands haphazardly on Festus, Jason and Piper's hands gripping at her to keep her stabilized. The dragon shudders at her added weight but lifts up into the sky as Medea's harrowing screams ring in their ears like a church bell.

Even with the flames and chaos below them, Will doesn't feel the need to cut through flesh and pull teeth until the gums bleed. The fog has lifted and she remembers everything. The smell of burning flesh. Thunder roaring overhead. The sound of screaming. But she remembers everything, and that's enough. Her mother with eyes like stones and sun-kissed cheeks that pinch into a smile like some kind of earthen angel. She'll take every bad memory if it means even a sliver of the good.

          Her mother screams. Thunder roars overhead. Her skin crawls. And a voice like a songbird singing a mad girl's love song.

note: this is literally my longest chapter and not even my best... RIP :((( also women in mythology get such a bad rep and have like little to no complexity to them. i wanted to add some level of depth to medea's story though the way it was told makes it difficult for her to be a character that can be sympathized with so i didn't feel like there was that much i could do