CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT:
SINK OR SWIM

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BREATHING UNDERWATER WAS NOT something that children of Ares were supposed to do! When Kit’s eyes fluttered open, he knew one thing almost immediately. His body was floating weightlessly, enveloped by water… and he wasn’t fucking dead. In an instant, his mind concluded that the Gods had found a new way to torture him, and so the only thing he could think to do was panic. Holding his breath, cheeks puffed and red from exertion, he kicked aimlessly in the hopes of finding an escape. He was yet to truly take in his surroundings, to realise there was a reason he was alive against impossible odds.

“Kit,” Leo’s muffled voice exclaimed before he clapped a hand on his shoulder. A well-timed kick caught him on the shin, drawing a yelp from his mouth. “Ow! Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got strong legs?”

“What the fuck?” Kit exclaimed. Suddenly forgetting he was meant to be holding his breath, the rush of air that shot through to his lungs had him bursting into a loud coughing fit. The force of the movement had his ribs burning, reminding Kit of his unattended injury.

Even then, the first thought to cross his mind was ‘is this how Percy feels using his Poseidon powers?’

“About time.” His head snapped towards the sound of a new but familiar voice near his other ear. “I thought you two were going to snooze together forever.”

Frank had his long legs curled into a meditation pose. With his chubby face and grumpy almost impatient expression, he looked like a levitating Buddha who’d achieved enlightenment and wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Why are we floating?” Kit frowned, skipping past the several other important questions he probably should’ve asked, like ‘where are we?’ or ‘how are we not dead right now?’ Or if he was thinking properly -- ‘how could we have possibly lost Hazel in a cave that only has one exit?’

Their accommodation (prison?) was the size of a two-car garage encased in dense stone. Spanning the dome-shaped ceiling and the walls was some kind of phosphorescent moss that bathed the room in a dim blue-and-green glow. It illuminated the floor which was crawling with sea urchins, and for that reason alone Kit was relieved to be floating.

With narrowed eyes, he focused again on the exit and debated possibilities of escape. The door was blocked by a massive abalone shell that glistened in shades of pearl and turquoise. Just looking at it unsettled Kit. He’d expected some kind of heavy vault door or iron bars, something he’d have a solution for (and if he didn’t, they always had Leo’s tool collection to fall back on.)

“Where are we?” Speaking of his boyfriend. “Where is everyone else?”

“Everyone?” Frank scoffed. “I don’t know. As far as I can tell, it’s just us and Hazel down here. The fish-horse guys took Hazel about an hour ago, leaving me here with you.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Kit muttered.

If the strange exit was disconcerting, Kit’s stomach plummeted at the thought of strangers roaming around him while he was sleeping. His fingers flexed towards his belt and stilled when he grasped at empty air.

“Did the fish-horse guys take my weapons?” he yelped, sliding his hands desperately over his body. He’d even lost Hedge’s baseball bat… oh, the satyr was going to eat him alive if the fish-horse guys didn’t finish him first! “I feel naked!”

“They searched us,” Frank explained glumly. While he was missing his own bow and quiver, Leo’s tool belt had also been taken (and so that idea was flushed down the drain.) “Took anything that could be a weapon.”

Gritting his teeth, Leo demanded, “Who are these fish-horse--?”

“Fish-horse guys,” Frank’s clarification still left much to the imagination. “They must have grabbed us when we fell into the ocean and dragged us wherever this is.”

Kit supposed they should’ve been thankful but the ache in his side was only getting worse. He cupped a hand over the worst of it, forcing himself to inhale and exhale slowly and carefully. If the fish-horse guys weren’t just another monster sent by Gaea, then maybe he could charm them into giving him some of their fish-horse guy medicine.

“The shrimp monster.” Horror dawned on Leo. “The Argo II -- is the ship okay?”

Frank’s glare darkened. “I don’t know. The others might be in trouble or hurt -- or worse! But I guess you care more about your ship than your friends.”

Leo swallowed thickly. He was quiet, unsure how to refute Frank’s ridiculous accusation, allowing Kit to cut in. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair? Because of him, I got knocked overboard!”

“And because of me,” Kit countered, unafraid of a little guilt-tripping. “You didn’t get eaten by Shrimpzilla.”

As quickly as it came, Frank’s anger washed away. He hung his head, now unsure where to look. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Kit muttered.

“Why did you help me?” The question came before Frank could comprehend the weight of it. For a moment, the room was silent. “You didn’t… I don’t understand you, Kit.”

Kit jerked his shoulders in a shrug. He didn’t know what else to do. “Just seemed like… I don’t know.”

Seemed like the right thing? The decent thing? The words died on his tongue, trapped behind the iron bars of a cage of their own. When Frank looked at him again, he stared right through Leo like they were the only two people in the room. His tiny, tentative smile told Kit that he’d figured out what he wanted to say. That he was grateful. Kit’s chest was oddly warm. He put it down to his pain spreading.

“Look,” Leo said. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess. I totally jacked things up.”

Frank didn’t disagree but he did nod, accepting Leo’s apology. A lot remained unspoken between them. Figuring he’d join in on the emotional moment, Leo decided there was no time like the present to clear the air (or water.)

“Me and Hazel holding hands?” Both Kit and Frank’s heads snapped towards him. One merely curious, the other irrefutably jealous. “It’s not what you think. Both of you. She was showing me this flashback from her past, trying to figure out my connection with Sammy.”

“Who’s Sammy?” Kit asked.

Frank let out a gasp. “Did you figure it out?”

“Yeah,” Leo nodded. “Well, sort of. We didn’t get a chance to talk about it afterward because of Shrimpzilla, but Sammy was my great-grandfather.”

Jeez. That certainly sounded complicated.

Leo went on to share with Kit and Frank what he and Hazel had witnessed. When she was a girl, Hazel had been sweet on Leo’s bisabuelo, his great-grandfather who died when Leo was only a baby. The boy in question couldn’t remember him but from Hazel’s memories it was clear that he and Sammy were pretty much identical. If that wasn’t mind-boggling to Kit and Frank, the weird realisation that Hazel might’ve been Leo’s great-grandmother had she stayed in the 1940s was insanity.

“Oh, man,” Leo groaned once he finished the story. “I don’t feel so good.” Oddly, Kit’s reaction was to laugh. Leo pouting at him only made the urge stronger. “But I swear on the Styx, that’s what we saw.”

Frank had the same expression as the monster catfish head. His eyes were wide and glassy, his jaw dropped. “Hazel liked your great-grandfather? That’s why she likes you?”

Kit’s face scrunched up. He couldn’t even find it in him to be jealous when his stomach suddenly twisted with nausea. “That sounds so wrong.”

Leo agreed. “Frank, I know this is weird, believe me. But I don’t like Hazel, not in that way! I’m not moving in on your girl. In case you haven’t noticed, I have myself a guy.”

Kit waved helpfully, just in case. Frank merely blinked at them. Leo took this as a sign to continue talking before the silence could get uncomfortable.

“Right, we need to make a plan. How are we breathing? If we’re under the ocean, shouldn’t we be crushed by the water pressure?”

Frank shrugged. “Fish-horse magic, I guess. I remember the green guy touching my head with the point of a finger. Then I could breathe.”

“Those waves must have knocked me out straight away,” Kit frowned. He didn’t remember anything like that. The darkness had come on suddenly, without Kit even noticing.

Leo was too busy studying the door to chime in. Eventually, he turned back to Frank, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Can you bust us out? Turn into a hammerhead shark or something?”

“I think we need something even stronger,” contemplated Kit. “A killer whale maybe?”

But Frank was shaking his head, the corners of his mouth downturned. “My shape-shifting doesn’t work. I don’t know why. Maybe they cursed me or maybe I’m too messed up to focus.”

“I feel you on that,” Kit sighed. “Is now a bad time to share that I think I’ve got a broken rib?”

“What!?” Both boys rounded on him. Leo, who had subconsciously curled an arm around Kit’s waist so they wouldn’t be separated by the current, quickly loosened his hold until only his fingers skimmed Kit’s hip. His wide eyes scanned him from his head to his socked feet (it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he had no shoes on) searching desperately for any other visible injuries. “When did this happen, babe?”

“When Shrimpzilla’s nose hair knocked me and Percy down the stairs.”

“If the fish-guys come back, we’ll ask them for some fish-ambrosia,” Leo declared strongly. Kit hummed and went to lean into his touch again -- somehow, even under water, Leo was warm -- but Kit’s injury combined with the prominent absence of Hazel had him moving urgently towards the door. “We’ve gotta get out of here! Hazel could be in trouble.”

Frank followed him. “I’ve already tried. But even if we get out, we have no weapons.”

Kit was the last to reach the door. One hand still bracing his ribs like he was holding himself together, he used his other to trace the ridges of the shell. Up close, they were intricately detailed, rough beneath his fingertips. Both he and Leo were pushing against it but it refused to budge. There were no latches or anything keeping it in place. Physically, it didn’t make sense. The only explanation had to be magic, again.

Then Leo got the idea to try his fire, but of course it didn’t go to plan. Kit was used to being around Leo so the heat didn’t necessarily bother him, yet even he had to step back when the flames consumed Leo’s body in the blink of an eye. The colour of them was intense, a bright orange that blinded the whole room. With squinted eyes, Kit found Frank hugging the opposite wall, putting as much distance between himself and the flames as possible. Leo himself was motionless. He was clearly trying his best to stay calm but Kit could see his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. Kit drew as close as he could get. Even a metre away, the heat made him clutch at his throat. Stinging tears poured down his face in rivers.

“No!” Leo cried -- or at least, Kit thought he did. His voice echoed as if he was at one end of a loud tunnel and Kit was waiting at the other.

With a lump of anxiety blocking his throat, Kit stayed away. A few seconds later, Leo’s fire snapped back into his skin like a rubber band. Apart from his sweat-slick forehead and a tinge of pink on his cheeks that reminded Kit of sunburn, he seemed completely fine.

“You’re okay?” Frank was incredulous.

Leo managed a nod, sinking into Kit as he held him up by his waist. Even the water opposed him, struggling to resist the dead weight of an exhausted body. Kit met Leo’s eyes then, raising his brows. Leo nodded once again, softer this time, and allowed Kit to kiss him on the cheek.

“What just happened?” Frank crept closer.

His voice was quiet, reminding Kit of a scolded child emerging from time-out. He was ashamed of his reaction, his instinct to flee when Leo was in trouble. Kit hadn’t done anything either but at least he’d tried. He would’ve burned himself raw if he could’ve done something for Leo. It unintentionally made Frank’s absence in the moment stand out.

“Clever magic,” Leo muttered. “There’s a thin layer of oxygen around us, like extra skin. Must be self-regenerating. That’s how we’re breathing and staying dry. The oxygen gave the fire fuel, except the fire also suffocated me.”

Frank gulped. “I really don’t like that fire summoning you do.”

Leo couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, I’m not going to attack you. I’d have to get past Christopher first.”

“Fire,” Frank merely repeated.

Kit stared at him. “You alright, dude?”

It occurred to him as well as Leo that Frank might have a bad experience with fire. When Frank didn’t answer Kit’s question, Leo said meaningfully, “Sorry I laughed. My mum died in a fire. I understand being afraid of it. Did, uh… did something like that happen to you?”

Frank considered for a second how much he should share with them. “My house… my grandmother’s place… it burned down. But it’s more than that.” He hung his head, concealing the tremble of his bottom lip. “Annabeth said I could trust the crew. Even you two.”

“Even us, huh?” Leo scoffed.

Kit merely rolled his eyes. “Wow, high praise.”

“I’m feeling so loved right now,” Leo turned to him. “Are you?”

“So loved,” Kit agreed in a deadpan tone. “We should make up a thank-you basket for dear Annabeth if we ever escape this place.” Eventually remembering they weren’t alone, and that Frank was trying to be vulnerable with them, he coughed awkwardly and gave the other boy an apologetic grin. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“My weakness.” It was like the past few seconds hadn’t even happened. To Frank, there was just fire and memories. “There’s this piece of firewood…”

The abalone door rolled open.

Kit was torn between pressing Frank -- ‘Uh, excuse me, Lima Bean Man, you reckon you could give us another five minutes? We were in the middle of something here.’ -- and assessing the odds of their new companion causing trouble. The Lima Bean Man, who wasn’t really a man at all, was by far the weirdest creature he’d ever seen, second maybe to Shrimpzilla.

From the waist up, he was more or less human -- if humans were green-skinned with lobster claws sticking up from their heads like devil horns. Coarse hair dusted his shirtless chest, trailing down to his waist where a belt made of sea-shells had a dagger strapped to it. His beard was as long as Rapunzel’s hair and tied together with a seaweed bandana that matched the one woven between his claw-horns. From the waist down? A whole different can of worms. He had the forelegs of a blue-green horse, reminding Kit of Chiron, but toward the back his horse body became a long rainbow fish tail that was about ten feet long.

“I am Bythos. I will interrogate Frank Zhang.”

His voice was calm and firm, leaving no room for debate.

“Why did you capture us?” Leo demanded, taking the words right out of Kit’s mouth. “Where’s Hazel?”

Bythos narrowed his eyes. His expression seemed to say ‘did this tiny creature just talk to me?’ “You, Leo Valdez, will go with my brother.”

“Your brother?”

The three boys realised that a much larger figure was looming behind Bythos with a shadow so wide that it filled the entire cave entrance.

“Yes,” Bythos said with a dry smile. “Try not to make Aphros mad.”

“And who am I going with?” Kit asked. There were only two fish-horse guys. “If you think I’m waiting in here, you can think again, buddy.”

He could fight them. It would take a lot of effort and he’d probably lose, but he wasn’t about to be separated from Leo. Bythos glowered; it was evident he appreciated Kit’s attitude as much as he appreciated Leo’s. He and Aphros exchanged a look, as if to say ‘you think you handle two of them?’ Aphros nodded. He looked much like his brother except he was blue instead of green and much bigger. He had rippling abs and arms that Kit couldn’t help but stare at (he was only human!) and a square, brutish head. A huge sword was strapped across his back. Even his hair was bigger, a massive globe of blue-black frizz so thick that his claw-horns couldn’t be seen.

With no more than a grunt of ‘follow me now’ Aphros turned and glided down the path from the cave. Leo and Kit turned to Frank, who was cowering beside a stony-faced Bythos.

“Tell me later? About the firewood?” Kit said before they departed.

Frank blinked in surprise and then they were gone.

Aphros tried his best to maintain the silence for the duration of their walk but Leo was having none of it.

“Is that why they named you Aphros?” he asked. “Because of the afro?”

Aphros scowled. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Kit said quickly, before Leo could dig them an even deeper hole.

Failing to notice the look on his boyfriend’s face, Leo continued, “So, what are you guys, exactly?”

“Ichthyocentaurs,” Aphros said, like it was a question he was tired of answering.

“Uh, icky what?”

“Fish centaurs,” he huffed. “We are the half-brothers of Chiron.”

At least this justified Kit’s analysis of the unfamiliar creatures.

“Oh, he’s a friend of ours!”

Aphros narrowed his eyes. “The one called Hazel told us this but we will determine the truth. Come.”

Neither Leo or Kit liked the sound of ‘determine the truth’ but they had little choice in the matter. As they followed the fish-horse guy (a much easier name to remember than Ichthyocentaurs) through a massive forest of kelp, Kit casually asked, “Our friend, Hazel, she’s okay?”

“Yes,” Aphros answered simply.

At least that was something.

They continued drifting between rows of kelp as tall as apartment buildings. The green-and-yellow plants swayed weightlessly. High above, Kit saw a smudge of white that might’ve been the sun. His mind went to the dark sky that had seemed so endless as they fought Shrimpzilla. Just how much time had passed? They were so deep that Kit couldn’t determine if the ship was still waiting for them. Surely, if they’d survived Shrimpzilla, their friends would now be searching for them. They couldn’t continue a quest for eight people when half of the eight were missing.

Still, he couldn’t resist the creeping twinge of doubt that settled in his gut as they drifted along for another half a mile. Fortunately, Leo managed to grasp the gravity of their situation, and so he stayed quiet and stuck to Kit’s uninjured side like glue. Aphros glanced once at the intertwined hands but made no move to separate them.

Finally, the kelp forest opened up. Leo let out a sharp gasp. Kit’s jaw dropped. They were standing at the summit of a high underwater hill. Below them stretched an entire town of Greek-style buildings on the seafloor. The roofs were tiled with mother-of-pearl, the gardens filled with coral and sea anemones. A team of Cyclopes was placing the domed roof on a new temple, using a blue whale as a crane. And swimming through the streets, hanging out in the courtyards, practising combat with tridents and swords in the arena were dozens of mermen and mermaids.

There was nothing silly or cute about these creatures, though. No Ariel in sight. Even from a distance, they looked fierce and nothing that could pass as human. Their eyes glowed a rich yellow that reminded Kit of melting butter. They had shark-like teeth and leathery skin in colours ranging from coral red to ink black. Their tales whipped through the water like sharp blades.

“It’s a training camp,” Kit concluded. He looked at Aphros in disbelief. “You train heroes, the same way that Chiron does?”

Aphros nodded, a glint of pride in his eyes that contrasted his previous expression. “We have trained all the famous mer-heroes! Name a mer-hero and we have trained him or her!”

He waited a moment or two. Did he actually expect them to answer?

“Oh, sure,” Leo said. “Like… um, the Little Mermaid?”

Kit let out a sigh.

Aphros scowled. “Who? No! Like Triton, Glaucus, Weissmuller, and Bill!”

“Oh.” Kit and Leo had no idea who any of them were. “You trained Bill? That’s impressive.”

“Indeed!” Aphros nodded, pounding his chest like a drum. “I trained Bill myself. A great merman.”

“You teach combat, I guess.”

Aphros threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why does everyone assume that?”

Kit glanced at the massive sword on his back. “Just a guess. So if you don’t treach combat, what do you teach?”

“Music and poetry,” Aphros answered. “Life skills, homemaking. These are important for heroes!”

“Oh, absolutely.” Leo tried to keep a straight face. Kit nudged his arm, keeping his eyes peeled for Aphros’ reactions. “Sewing? Cookie baking?”

“Yes. I’m glad you understand. Perhaps later, if I don’t have to kill you, I will share my brownie recipe.” Aphros gestured behind him contemptuously. “My brother, Bythos, he teaches combat.”

“Brownies. Sounds delightful. I could eat a horse right now.” It dawned on Kit for the first time since he woke that he hadn’t eaten for hours, possibly even days depending on how long they’d been kept captive. When Aphros merely crossed his arms, he realised what he’d said. “Oh, uh, not a real horse. But the brownies really do sound fantastic.”

“They are,” Aphros dipped his chin.

Leo, who wasn’t sure whether he felt relieved or insulted that the combat trainer was interrogating Frank -- like, come on, his boyfriend was also a son of Ares! -- while Leo and Kit got the home economics teacher. “So, this is Camp… what do you call it? Camp Fish-Blood?”

The blue skin between Aphros’ brows pinched. “I hope that was another strange joke. This is Camp...”

He made a sound that was a series of sonar pings and hisses.

“Silly me,” Leo chuckled nervously. “And, you know, I could also really go for some of those brownies! What do we have to do to get to the ‘not killing us’ stage?”

“Tell me your story,” Aphros said simply.

“How much do you want to know?” Kit asked, wondering where to begin.

“Everything.”

“Right. Of course.”

And so they told their story.

Leo was the first to break the silence, somehow sensing that he could tell the truth. He shared how Hera had been his babysitter and placed him in the flames; how his mother had died because of Gaea, who had identified Leo as a future enemy and wanted to defeat him preemptively. He talked about how he had spent his childhood bouncing between foster homes that were never promising until he eventually ended up at the Wilderness School where he found companionship with Jason and Piper. Finally, someone understood him. It made sense as to why when they were taken to Camp Half-Blood, where he met and immediately liked Kit Dempsey.

Then it was Kit’s turn. Parts of his story would always be harder to share than others but he knew that if Aphros wanted honesty from Leo, then he’d expect nothing less from Kit. Besides, it wasn’t like nobody knew Kit’s story. People always thought they were owed the truth of your trauma as justification for your actions. So he told Aphros how it was only ever him and his mum until she died trying to get him to Camp Half-Blood. How he’d always hated his dad, even before he learned who he was. How Luke Castellan was the first person he met who he thought he could trust, and so he followed him until it was too dark to realise he’d lost sight of the light. He ended his story with how his side in the war had lost, as Aphros was already aware, and in an ironic twist of fate he was now with the good guys. He admitted that he liked it there. No matter how much he complained, he’d rather be with the Gods than against them for this one.

This led to their quest to save Hera, then the Prophecy of Eight, the building of the Argo II (excluding a few kisses -- sorry, details) and their quest to reach Greece and defeat the giants before Gaea woke. Aphros listened attentively while they went back and forth. Just as Leo was starting to explain the problem with the eidolons, he drew some wicked-looking metal spikes from his belt. Leo gasped, instantly afraid he had said something wrong. Meanwhile, Kit stared at the weapon in wonder -- until he pulled some seaweed yarn from his pouch and started knitting. Disappointed, Kit remembered then who he was talking to.

“Go on,” Aphros urged.

By the time they had explained the eidolons, the problem with the Romans and all the troubles the Argo II had encountered crossing the United States, Aphros had knitted a complete baby bonnet. Kit had to admire his multi-tasking skills.

The two boys waited while Aphros put away his supplies. Then he turned to them, straight-faced, and said as casually as he would remark about the weather, “Very well. I believe you.”

“Just like that?” Kit frowned. Aphros nodded. “Oh.”

“I am quite good at discerning lies. I hear none from you. Your story also fits with what Hazel Levesque told us.”

“Is she...?”

“Of course,” Aphros said, a bit offended they would ask again. “She’s fine.” He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. “My people will bring her here shortly. You must understand, our location is a carefully guarded secret. You and your friends showed up in a warship, pursued by one of Keto’s sea monsters. We did not know whose side you were on.”

That… was actually more than fair. Now Kit regretted calling their cave a prison.

“Is the ship all right?” Leo asked.

“Damaged,” Aphros said, making the son of Hephaestus sigh miserably. “But not terribly. The skolopendra withdrew after it got a mouthful of fire. Nice touch.”

“Thank you. Skolopendra? Never heard of it.”

“Do you mean Shrimpzilla?” Kit asked.

The corner of Aphros’ mouth twitched. “They are nasty creatures. Keto must really hate you. At any rate, we rescued you both and the other two from the creature’s tentacles as it retreated into the deep. Your friends are still above, searching for you; but we have obscured their vision. We had to be sure you were not a threat. Otherwise, we would have had to… take measures.”

“That’s nice,” Kit grimaced. “So does that mean we’re free to leave? Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been very… hospitable hosts, but demigods like us--?” He pointed between himself and Leo. “Don’t belong under water.”

“You may leave soon,” Aphros promised. “I must check first with Bythos. When he is done talking with your friend, Gank--”

Kit snorted. “Frank.”

He was so calling him Gank later. Leo’s smirk was one of agreement.

“Frank,” Aphros corrected. “When they are done, we will send you back to your ship. And we may have some warnings for you.”

“Warnings?”

Oh, what now?

Aphros pointed past them where Hazel emerged from the kelp forest escorted by two vicious-looking mermaids. They were baring their fangs and hissing at her but Hazel was completely at ease, grinning and talking with her escorts, and Kit realised that the mermaids were laughing.

“Hi, boys,” Hazel joined them. “Isn’t this place amazing?”

When they turned back to admire the view beneath the ridge, Kit realised that Aphros had disappeared. He really did trust them then. Even the mermaids had disappeared but Hazel explained it was so they could collect Frank.

Unsurprisingly, the merpeople had warmed to her straight away. Aphros and Bythos had been fascinated by her story, as they had never met a child of Pluto before, especially not one born in a different time. On top of that, they’d heard many legends about the horse Arion, and they were amazed that Hazel had befriended him. Hazel had promised them to visit again with Arion. The mermaids had written their phone numbers in waterproof ink on Hazel’s arm so she could keep in touch. Kit didn’t even want to ask how mermaids got cell-phone coverage in the middle of the Atlantic. After the experiences they’d had, he figured absolutely anything was possible.

“Hey, we didn’t get to talk.” It took Kit a second to realise Leo was speaking to Hazel. His hand twitched in Kit’s, fingers gripping tighter. “I mean about Sammy.”

Hazel’s smile dropped. Her eyes flickered to Kit, surely wondering what he knew. He’d have given them space but he wasn’t about to wander back into the kelp forest on his own. Who knew what lurked in there.

Hazel was slow to accept his presence, and then the words spilled out like overflowing water. “I just need some time to let it sink in. It’s strange to think that you and he…”

She didn’t need to finish the thought. Leo knew exactly how strange it was. So did Kit.

“I’m not sure I can explain this to Frank,” she continued with glossy eyes. “About you and me holding hands.”

“I talked to him,” Leo said. “I told him I wasn’t trying to… you know. Make trouble between you two. That I only see you as a friend.”

“Oh,” Hazel sighed, some of the tension slackening from her shoulders. “Good.”

Now that she knew for certain who Leo was, the mystery that drew her towards him had faded.

Leo took this as his que to change the subject. “Frank, um, seemed pretty freaked out when I summoned fire.”

He and Kit explained what happened in the cave.

Hazel looked stunned. “Oh, no! That would terrify him.”

“Why?” Kit asked.

Instinctively, her hand went to her denim jacket, checking for something in the inside pocket. She always wore that jacket or some sort of overshirt, even when it was hot outside. Kit just assumed it was some modesty thing she’d kept up since the 1940s, but now he had other theories.

Kit had said something about having a weakness. A piece of firewood. He remembered the legend from Camp Half-Blood with surprising ease. How there was once a hero whose lifeline was tied to a stick in a fireplace. When the piece of wood burned up, so did his soul. Could that have happened to poor Frank? It would explain some things, in retrospect. Leo seemed to be thinking the same thing. When he told the legend to Hazel, a shadow crossed her face.

“Frank has that problem,” Kit stated. “And the piece of firewood…” He pointed at Hazel’s jacket. “He gave it to you for safekeeping, right? Don’t try to lie to us.”

Hazel let out a sigh. “Please, guys. I can’t talk about it.”

Ignoring her, Leo listed off every question he could think of about the logistics for having firewood in the ocean. Hazel answered them with extensive knowledge, then caught herself with a woeful shake of her head. “I’m not supposed to talk about it! Leo, the point is if Frank seems afraid of you, or uneasy, you’ve got to understand.”

“He trusts you,” Kit said.

Hazel’s face softened. “He does.”

But it was more than that. To literally put his life in Hazel’s hands… even at a young age, he knew how lucky he was to have someone like her in his life. He worshipped the ground she walked on, gave her his lifeline as if it was his heart. It made so much sense why her fascination with Leo had been scalding. If Kit was in his shoes… Well, he would give his lifeline to Leo without thinking twice (okay, maybe he’d think twice, but after three or four thoughts he was sure he’d find it in him to trust the other boy.) Leo would never hurt him intentionally. Nor would Hazel want to harm Frank.

“There you are!” Bythos’s booming voice made Kit flinch out of his thoughts.

He and Aphros floated over with Frank between them, looking pale but okay. Frank studied them carefully, as if trying to read what they’d been talking about, but he obviously couldn’t ask with the fish-horse guys present.

“You are free to go,” Bythos declared.

He opened his saddlebags and returned their confiscated supplies. Kit put his daggers in the right places then accepted Hedge’s bat gratefully (how it fit in a saddlebag, he didn’t want to ask.)

“Tell Percy Jackson not to worry,” Aphros assured them. “We have understood your story about the imprisoned sea creatures in Atlanta. Keto and Phorcys must be stopped. We will send a quest of mer-heroes to defeat them and free their captives. Perhaps Cyrus?”

“Or Bill,” Kit offered, only somewhat joking.

But Aphros’ eyes lit up. “Yes! Bill would be perfect. At any rate, we are grateful that Percy brought this to our attention.”

“You should talk to him in person,” Leo suggested. “I mean, son of Poseidon, and all.”

They shook their heads solemnly. “Sometimes, it is best not to interact with Poseidon’s brood. We are friendly with the sea God, of course, but the politics of undersea deities is complicated. And we value our independence. Nevertheless, tell Percy thank you. We will do what we can to speed you safely across the Atlantic without further interference from Keto’s monsters, but be warned. In the ancient sea, the Mare Nostrum, more dangers await.”

Frank sighed. “Naturally.”

Bythos clapped him on the shoulder. “You will be fine, Frank Zhang. Keep practising those sea life transformations. The koi fish is good but try for a Portuguese man-of-war. Remember what I showed you. It’s all in the breathing.”

Frank’s face went as red as the fire he feared. He avoided looking at them, Hazel in particular. Leo bit down on his lip, determined not to smile but Kit failed to hide his own amused expression.

“And you, Hazel,” Aphros said. “Come visit again and bring that horse of yours! I know you are concerned about the time you lost, spending the night in our realm. You are worried about your brother, Nico.…”

This got their attention.

Hazel’s hands trembled around her sword. “Is he-- do you know where he is?”

Aphros shook his head. “Not exactly. But when you get closer, you should be able to sense his presence. Never fear! You must reach Rome the day after tomorrow if you are to save him, but there is still time. And you must save him.”

“Yes,” Bythos agreed strongly. “He will be essential for your journey. I am not sure how, but I sense it is true.”

Aphros then planted his hand on Leo’s shoulder. So they were going around the group one-by-one. This should be good. “As for you, Leo Valdez, stay close to Hazel and Frank when you reach Rome. I sense they will face… ah, mechanical difficulties that only you can overcome.”

“Mechanical difficulties?” Leo repeated, confused.

Aphros didn’t answer. Both he and Bythos had turned to Kit, who suddenly felt like jumping over the edge of the ridge.

“I know you fear losing the light again, Kit, but have no fear,” Aphros’ smile was kind. Kit could barely remember his stony expression from their walk in the kelp forest. His distrust seemed like a lifetime ago. “I only picture light in your future. I’ll look forward to seeing you again some day.”

Well, then. That was certainly better than Nemesis’ fortune cookie. Maybe throwing it into the ocean had been a good thing, an opportunity to show him an alternative path.

Aphros continued. “Oh, and I have gifts for you! First is some ambrosia for your rib, Kit--”

Kit blinked. He hadn’t even realised they’d noticed. His chest felt oddly warm at the thought. He stuttered out a strangled thank you but Aphros was already moving on.

“Second, brownies!”

It was only then that Kit noticed the old-fashioned picnic basket. Then it was being shoved into his arms, forcing him to hand Hedge’s bat to Leo. It was surrounded by a bubble of air which Kit presumed would keep the brownies from turning into saltwater sludge on their trip back.

“In this basket, you will also find the recipe. Not too much butter! That’s the trick. And I’ve given you a letter of introduction to Tiberinus, the God of the Tiber River. Once you reach Rome, your friend, the daughter of Athena? She will need this.”

Kit frowned. Annabeth was getting a gift and she hadn’t even met the fish-horse guys…

“Annabeth,” Leo said. “Okay, but why?”

Bythos’s laugh was croaky, reminding Kit somewhat of a dolphin. “She follows the Mark of Athena, doesn’t she? Tiberinus can guide her in this quest. He’s an ancient, proud God who can be… difficult, but letters of introduction are everything to Roman spirits. This will convince Tiberinus to help her. Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Kit repeated.

Bythos then produced four pink pearls from his saddlebags. “And now, off with you, demigods! Good sailing!”

“What does that mean--?”

No sooner had Kit spoke did Bythos throw a pearl at each of them in turn. Four shimmering pink bubbles of energy formed around them, trapping them in a ball of oxygen that began to rise through the water. Slowly… slowly… then, in a blink, they gained speed and rocketed toward the distant glow of the sun above.