SAFE TO SAY, the Argo II didn't manage a peaceful landing when they finally touched down on the lake. With the oars damaged and the foresail torn, the ship was in near critical condition.

  Everyone besides Leo and Coach Hedge strapped themselves below-deck in hopes of avoiding the brunt of the disaster that would surely come. Festus creaked and whirred warning signals, which were relayed through the intercom to the quarterdeck. And then, the whole ship shuddered in each and every direction and landed atop the shimmery surface of the lake with the largest splash possible. If Blaire wasn't already sitting, she'd have been knocked off her feet.

   The sound of the all clear bell rung through the interior of the Argo, and Blaire exhaled in relief. She and a few of the others were sitting in the mess hall, gathered around their dining table and conversing wearily.

  The lounge was suprisingly nice. The cupboard was lined with magic cups and plates from Camp Half-Blood, which would fill up with whatever food or drink you wanted on command. There was also a magical ice chest with canned drinks, perfect for picnics ashore. The chairs were cushy recliners with thousand-finger massage, built-in headphones, and sword and drink holders for all your demigod kicking-back needs. There were no windows, but the walls were enchanted to show real-time footage from Camp HalfBlood—the beach, the forest, the strawberry fields— you name it.

   When Leo found them Blaire was staring at her trainers, which were incredibly worn down, trying to avoid eye contact with the others.

  "So we've landed," Percy said at last. "What now?"

  Frank plucked on his bowstring. "Figure out the prophecy? I mean...that was a prophecy Ella spoke, right? From the Sibylline Books?"

   "The what?" Leo asked.

  Frank explained how their harpy friend was freakishly good at memorizing books. At some point in the past, she'd inhaled a collection of ancient prophecies that had supposedly been destroyed around the fall of Rome.

  "That's why you didn't tell the Romans," Leo guessed. "You didn't want them to get hold of her."

  Percy, who had been staring at the image of half-blood hill for the past ten minutes, said,"Ella's sensitive. She was a captive when we found her. I just didn't want..." He made a fist. "It doesn't matter now. I sent Tyson an Iris-message, told him to take Ella to Camp Half-Blood. They'll be safe there."

  Blaire wanted to speak up—- to say that after what Leo had pulled, they'd probably never be safe again. But she didn't. Becasue it would do nothing but upset her peers, and because she knew it wasn't Leo's fault. She shouldn't shame him for something he said he really had no control over.

  Annabeth laced her fingers. "Let me think about the prophecy—but right now we have more immediate problems. We have to get this ship fixed. Leo, what do we need?"

"The easiest thing is tar," Leo supplied, visibly glad for a subject change. "We can get that in the city, at a roofing-supply store or some place like that. Also, Celestial bronze and lime. According to Festus, we can find both of those on an island in the lake, just west of here."

"We'll have to hurry," Hazel warned. "If I know Octavian, he's searching for us with his auguries. The Romans will send a strike force after us. It's a matter of honor."

Unconsciously, everyones gaze switched onto Leo. He cowered beneath near a dozen eyes, flushing at all the unwanted attention. "Guys...I don't know what happened. Honestly, I—"

Annabeth raised her hand. "We've been talking. We agree it couldn't have been you, Leo. That cold feeling you mentioned...Blaire and I felt it too. It must have been some sort of magic, either Octavian or Gaea or one of her minions. But until we understand what happened—"

Frank grunted. "How can we be sure it won't happen again?"

Leo scowled— rightfully so. "I'm fine now," he insisted. But he sounded as if he were trying to convince himself rather than his friends.

"Maybe we should use the buddy system. Nobody goes anywhere alone. We can leave Piper and Coach Hedge on board with Jason. Send one team into town to get tar. Another team can go after the bronze and the lime."

"Split up?" Percy chimed in. "That sounds like a really bad idea."

"It'll be quicker," Hazel put in. "Besides, there's a reason a quest is usually limited to three demigods, right?"

  Annabeth raised her eyebrows, as if reappraising Hazel's merits. "You're right. The same reason we needed the Argo II...outside camp, seven demigods in one place will attract way too much monstrous attention. The ship is designed to conceal and protect us. We should be safe enough on board; but if we go on expeditions, we shouldn't travel in groups larger than three. No sense alerting more of Gaea's minions than we have to."

  Percy still didn't look happy about it, but he took Annabeth's hand. "As long as you're my buddy, I'm good."

  Blaire rolled her eyes— already fed up by Percy and Annabeth's overly affectionate behavior toward one another. She didn't blame them though. They had been apart for many months. If she we're able to reunite with her best friend, she wouldn't want to let go of him either.

   Hazel smiled. "Oh, that's easy. Frank, you were amazing, turning into a dragon! Could you do it again to fly Annabeth and Percy into town for the tar?"

  Frank opened his mouth like he wanted to protest. "I...I suppose. But what about you?"

  "I'll ride Arion with Sa— Leo, and, um... Blaire." She fidgeted with her sword hilt, which made Blaire uneasy. She had even more nervous energy than Leo did. And that was saying a whole lot. "We'll get the bronze and the lime. We can all meet back here by dark."

   It was clear Frank didn't want his girlfriend going on with the only two who were present when the camp was fired on. And if anything, that made Blaire want to go with Hazel. At first, she'd had her doubts— but Frank's scowl totally persuaded her.

  "Leo," said Annabeth, "if we get the supplies, how long to fix the ship?"

  "With luck, just a few hours."

  "Fine," she decided. "We'll meet you back here as soon as possible, but stay safe. We could use some good luck. That doesn't mean we'll get it."

    BLAIRE HATED HORSES. Before riding Arion, she'd no problem with them at all. But, when the stallion started bolting at a speed faster than light and the contents in Blaire's stomach started to churn, her lifelong dismay toward horses materialized in an instant. It was then she swore she'd never ride another horse as long as she lived.

  Leo and Hazel seemed to be enjoying themselves though. While Blaire was suffering, the others were having the time of their lifes on the back of the damned horse.

    Blaire sat behind Hazel, an arm wrapped so firm around the younger girl's waist, she was almost surprised the latter was able to breathe. And behind Blaire was Leo, who had an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to keep himself upright. The weight of his forearm casually pressed against her T-shirt was something she tried incredibly hard to ignore. Instead, she attempted to focus on the island ahead of them —a line of sand so white, it might have been pure table salt. Behind that rose an expanse of grassy dunes and weathered boulders.

  Arion thundered onto the beach. He stomped his hooves and whinnied triumphantly, like Coach Hedge yelling a battle cry. Hazel, Blaire, and Leo
dismounted. Arion pawed the sand.

"He needs to eat," Hazel explained. "He likes gold—"

  "Naturally," Blaire cut her off.

  "He'll settle for grass. Go on, Arion. Thanks for the ride. I'll call you." Just like that, the horse was gone— nothing left but a steaming trail across the lake.

  "Fast horse," Leo pointed out, "and expensive to feed."

  "Not really." Hazel shrugged casually. "Gold is easy for me."

  Leo raised his eyebrows. "How is gold easy? Please tell me you're not related to King Midas."

  Blaire shivered in remembrance of the man. "Hate that guy."

  Hazel pursed her lips, as if she regretted raising the subject. "Never mind."

  This did nothing if not further pique Blaire's interest. Though, Hazel looked so offput, Blaire decided it would probably be best to just let it go for time being.

  Leo knelt and cupped a handful of white sand, intensely studying the grains. "Well...one problem solved, anyway. This is lime."

  Blaire furrowed her eyebrows. "The entire beach is lime?"

  "Yeah. See? The granules are perfectly round. It's not really sand. It's calcium carbonate." Leo pulled a Ziploc bag from his tool belt and dug his hand into the lime, collecting more of it. But then he suddenly froze, dread falling over his face. He was frozen for a few seconds before either of his companions spoke up.

  "Hot-Stuff?" Blaire said, nudging him with the toe of her shoe. "What's wrong with you? You're not gonna try and tackle me again, are you?"

Leo jolted, like he was just waking up. But he shook his head, not seeming amused by her joke as he usually would be— which was incredibly not Leo-like whatsoever. "No, no. I'm okay." He started filling his Ziplock up again and Blaire took that as her cue to kneel and help him. The sooner they were finished, the sooner she'd be back on the ship.

Hazel followed in pursuit, kneeling beside her. And for a while, they worked in tandem, silence enveloping them.

As Blaire passed the sand between her hands— she couldn't help but think of another beach. The beach back at Camp where she'd usually meet Sunny, the one that had since became a sort of memorial for him in her mind. She'd not been able to visit for a while due to being aboard the Argo. She hoped he understood.

"We should've brought a pail and shovels," Hazel suggested playfully, drawing Blaire's attention from the metaphorical melancholy that the sand brought forth.

Leo managed a laugh. "We could have made a sand castle."

"Don't you mean a lime castle, genius?" Blaire retorted mockingly, cocking her head.

Leo laughed again, the time it sounded more genuine in a way. "Yeah. A lime castle. Sorry."

With a sad smile, Hazel watched the two. Correction— she watched Leo with a sad, nostalgic smile. "You are so much like—"

"Sammy?" Leo guessed.

Hazel fell backwards in shock. "You know?"

It wasn't like Leo had wrongly been called by the name Sammy all day or anything like that.

  "I have no idea who Sammy is," Leo told her. "But Frank asked me if I was sure that wasn't my name."

  "And...it isn't?"

"No! Jeez."

"You don't have a twin brother or..." Hazel stopped herself. "Is your family from New Orleans?"

"Nah. Houston. Why? Is Sammy a guy you used to know?"

"I...It's nothing. You just look like him."

Hazel seemed embarrassed, and she didn't say anything else concerning the subject. She merely returned to collecting sand.

When the bag was full, Leo stuffed it into his magic toolbelt. The trio stood and scanned the beach, bleach-white dunes, blankets of grass, and boulders encrusted with salt like frosting.

Leo squinted against the sun, sheilding his gaze with a hand. "Festus said there was Celestial bronze close by, but I'm not sure where—"

"That way," Hazel said instantly, pointing up the beach. "About five hundred yards."

"How do you—" Blaire began to question.

"Precious metals," Hazel cut her off. "It's a Pluto thing."

Then, Blaire remembered what she said about gold being easy to come across. She nodded in approval. "Lead the way, Levesque."

   THE SUN HAD began to sink behind a cluster of senic clouds as they trudged down the beach. The vibrancy of the horizon was quick to fade into a deep shade of purple— with a bizzare mix of yellow. It reminded Blaire of something out of a painting. A painting Sunny would have crafted with his Apollo talents.

  Usually, Blaire would have stared wistfully out at the sunset, recalling the most grand friendship she'd ever had. But, something made her skin crawl, a sinister vibe. She didn't have time to feel remorse and nostalgia as she fought off the sensation of impending doom creeping up on her.

  Apparently, Leo felt the same. As they creeped further down the beach, Leo asked, "You sure this is a good idea?"

  We're close," Hazel promised, her tone reassuring. "Come on."

And then they saw the woman.

  She sat on a boulder in the middle of a grassy field. A black- and-chrome motorcycle was parked nearby, but each of the wheels had a big pie slice removed from the spokes and rim, so that they resembled Pac-Men. No way was the bike drivable in that condition.

  The woman had curly black hair and a bony frame. She wore black leather biker's pants, tall leather boots, and a bloodred leather jacket—sort of a Michael Jackson joins the Hell's Angels look. Around her feet, the ground was littered with what looked like broken shells. She was hunched over, pulling new ones out of a sack and cracking them open. Shucking oysters?

Were there Oysters in the Great Lake? Blaire doubted it.

Something about this woman didn't feel right. And Blaire was quite anxious to avoid conflict after the day she had. She didn't want to approach this strange lady, but Hazel lead them towards her so she didn't have much of a choice.

As they got closer, Blaire noticed disturbing details. Attached to the woman's belt was a curled whip. Her red-leather jacket had a subtle design to it—twisted branches of an apple tree populated with skeletal birds. The oysters she was shucking were actually fortune cookies.

A pile of broken cookies lay ankle-deep all around her. She kept pulling new ones from her sack, cracking them open, and reading the fortunes. Most she tossed aside. A few made her mutter unhappily. She would swipe her finger over the slip of paper like she was smudging it, then magically reseal the cookie and toss it into a nearby basket.

Blaire wasn't sure what this lady was doing, so she squinted harshly as if to make sense of this lady's odd behavior, but in doing so, Blaire realized this woman seemed entirely too familiar.

"What are you doing?" Leo asked, and his voice sounded distant; far, far away. Blaire swayed as her feet as the woman looked up at the trio and her worst fears were proven correct.

Olivia Kingsley stared back at her.

It didn't make any sense. The girl's teenaged features didn't fit on this womans body— and Olivia would never wear such dark clothes. Plus, Olivia was dead. There was no way she'd be standing before them.

But, she was. Olivia's smile, the one Blaire had once found comfort in before it was warped by evil was pasted upon her milky flesh, and her blue eyes stood out against the dim background. Her eyelids were even covered in the same glitter Olivia used to sport on a daily.

Blaire blinked harshly, eager to make her dissapear. She couldn't be here— it wasn't possible.

When Olivia's cruel face didn't seem to waver, Blaire glanced down at her hands, expecting to seem them tainted with blood. But they weren't.

Blaire didn't know what she felt. She couldn't pinpoint the emotion rendering her suddenly faint. Was it anger? Sorrow? Or maybe guilt? Blaire didn't know. All she knew was that she couldn't bare to look at the girl— but she didn't have the strength to pull her eyes away.

"Olivia?" Blaire choked, her voice wavering with each syllable.

"Is that what you see?" the woman asked and even her voice resembled the Aprhodite daughter's. Blaire inhaled, the air being knocked from her lungs like she'd just been punched. "Interesting. And you, Hazel, dear?"

"How did you—?" Hazel stepped back in alarm.
"You—you look like Mrs. Leer. My third grade
teacher. I hated you."

Then the lady looked toward Leo expectantly. He blurted, "Aunt Rosa," Before she could even ask her question.

"You—she taped my hands to the desk for misbehaving,"Hazel spoke again, trying to make sense of the situation. "She called my mother a witch. She blamed me for everything I didn't do and— No. She has to be dead. Who are you?"

  Blaire did not want to make sense of the situation. She wanted Olivia to dissapear. But she also didn't know what she would have done if the girl dissapeared then.

  Blaire hated Olivia more than anything. That was true, yes. However, she couldn't help but miss the girl who she'd once considered a sister.

  "Oh, Leo knows," the woman said. "How do you feel about Aunt Rosa, mijo?"

  For a second, Leo seemed stunned, his eyes darting across the perimeters desperately, scanning for anwsers. The Hephaestus boy looked at the woman, then the fortune cookies, and finally the wheels of her motorcycle. His face settled into a scowl, and he shook his head as realization flashed across his features.

  "Nemesis," Leo breathed. "You're the goddess of revenge."

    And then it made sense. Nemesis appeared to her as Olivia because the girl wanted nothing more than to make Olivia suffer the way she did. Killing her wasn't enough. She wanted to scream at her— to tell her she was supposed to be her best friend, not the cause of her dismay. She wanted to make her feel sorry for what she'd done to Sunny.

  "You see?" The goddess smiled, her eyes flickering between the girls. "He recognizes me."

  Nemesis cracked another cookie and wrinkled her nose. "You will have great fortune when you least expect it," she read. "That's exactly the sort of nonsense I hate. Someone opens a cookie, and suddenly they have a prophecy that they'll be rich! I blame that tramp Tyche. Always dispensing good luck to people who don't deserve it!"

  Blaire wasn't capable of understanding how Nemesis could act so casual as if she wasn't mentally torturing Blaire.

  Leo looked at the mound of broken cookies. "Uh...you know those aren't real prophecies, right? They're just stuffed in the cookies at some factory—"

  "Don't try to excuse it!" Nemesis snapped. "It's just like Tyche to get people's hopes up. No, no. I must counter her." Nemesis flicked a finger over the slip of paper, and the letters changed to red. "You will die painfully when you most expect it. There! Much better."

  "That's horrible!" Hazel shreiked. "You'd let someone read that in their fortune cookie, and it would come true?"

  Oliv— Nemesis sneered. Blaire clenched, then unclenched her fists. She had to remind herself that Nemesis wanted to earn a rise from her.

   "My dear Hazel, haven't you ever wished horrible things on Mrs. Leer for the way she treated you?"

  "That doesn't mean I'd want them to come true!"

  "Bah." The goddess resealed the cookie and tossed it in her basket. "Tyche would be Fortuna for you, I suppose, being Roman. Like the others, she's in a horrible way right now. Me? I'm not affected. I am called Nemesis in both Greek and Roman. I do not change, because revenge is universal."

  "What are you talking about?" Leo asked. "What are you doing here?"

  Nemesis opened another cookie. "Lucky numbers. Ridiculous! That's not even a proper fortune!" She crushed the cookie and scattered the pieces around her feet. "To answer your question, Leo Valdez, the gods are in terrible shape. It always happens when a civil war is brewing between you Romans and Greeks. The Olympians are torn between their two natures, called on by both sides. They become quite schizophrenic, I'm afraid. Splitting headaches. Disorientation."

  "But we're not at war," Leo insisted.

  "Um, Leo..." Hazel winced. "Except for the fact that you recently blew up large sections of New Rome."

  If Blaire were able to contribute to the conversation, she might have. But she couldn't force out any words. The sight of Olivia, even if only a figment of her thirst for revenge, seemed to tear open a wound that hadn't yet properly healed. The pain was all consuming, enveloping her entirely like a blanket of terror.

  She killed Olivia. She killed Olivia. She—-

  "Not on purpose!"

  "I know..." Hazel said, "but the Romans don't realize that. And they'll be pursuing us in retaliation."

  Nemesis cackled. "Leo, listen to the girl. War is coming. Gaea has seen to it, with your help. And can you guess whom the gods blame for their predicament?"

  Leo paled, his eyes glazing over with an emotion Blaire recognized too well. "Me."

    The goddess snorted. "Well, don't you have a high opinion of yourself. You're just a pawn on the chessboard, Leo Valdez. I was referring to the player who set this ridiculous quest in motion, bringing the Greeks and Romans together. The gods blame Hera—or Juno, if you prefer! The queen of the heavens has fled Olympus to escape the wrath of her family. Don't expect any more help from your patron!"

  "So why are you here?" Leo asked.

  "Why, to offer my help!" Nemesis smiled wickedly.

  Leo glanced at Blaire, but she wasn't paying attention. She seemed entirely elsewhere, not at all intrested in the present. Of course, she never seemed truly there, but the clear absence of her consciousness this time was concerning.

  "Your help," Hazel said in disbelief.

  "Of course!" confirmed the goddess. "I enjoy tearing down the proud and powerful, and there are none who deserve tearing down like Gaea and her giants. Still, I must warn you that I will not suffer undeserved success. Good luck is a sham. The wheel of fortune is a Ponzi scheme. True success requires sacrifice."

  More sacrifice?! All Blaire knew was sacrifice. Her father, her best friend. Her girlhood!

   "Sacrifice?" Hazel's voice was tight. "I lost my mother. I died and came back. Now my brother is missing. Isn't that enough sacrifice for you?"

   Right now," Leo told her, "all I want is some Celestial bronze."

  "Oh, that's easy," Nemesis scoffed like it was no big deal. "It's just over the rise. You'll find it with the
sweethearts."

  "Wait," Hazel said. "What sweethearts?"

   Nemesis popped a cookie in her mouth and swallowed it, fortune and all. "You'll see. Perhaps they will teach you a lesson, Hazel Levesque. Most heroes cannot escape their nature, even when given a second chance at life." She smiled. "And speaking of your brother Nico, you don't have much time. Let's see...it's June twenty-fifth? Yes, after today, six more days. Then he dies, along with the entire city of Rome."

  Hazel's eyes widened. "How...what—?"

  But she'd had enough conversation with Hazel, so she turned to Blaire with a smirk. Olivia's smirk. "Cursed daughter of Hecate," her voice was sly, "your past will haunt you for the rest of your life. Until the day you die. And your future isn't very promising either. I'm afriad there's nothing I can do to help. This isn't within my power."

  "Tell me something I don't know," Blaire managed, though it was obvious she wasn't as tough as she tried to appear.

  "And as for you, child of fire." It was Leo's turn. "Your worst hardships are yet to come. Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, though I could help you...for a price."

   The smell of smoke came from Leo's direction, and upon glancing down at his hand, Blaire realized it were aflame. He seemed to realize at the same time as her that his hand was emitting flames because he shoved it in his pocket. Hazel looked terrified, being unaware of his powers up until then.

  "I like to solve my own problems."

  "Very well." Nemesis brushed cookie dust off her jacket.

  "But, um, what sort of price are we talking about?"

  The goddess shrugged. "One of my children recently traded an eye for the ability to make a real difference in the world."

  Leo winced at the suggestion. "You...want an eye?"

  "In your case, perhaps another sacrifice would do. But something just as painful. Here." She handed him an unbroken fortune cookie. "If you need an answer, break this. It will solve your problem."

  Leo's hand trembled as he held the fortune cookie. "What problem?"

  "You'll know when the time comes."

  "No, thanks," Leo said firmly. But Blaire noticed his hand, as though it had a will of its own, slipping the cookie into his tool belt.

  Nemesis picked another cookie from her bag and cracked it open. "You will have cause to reconsider your choices soon. Oh, I like that one. No changes needed here."

  She resealed the cookie and tossed it into the basket. "Very few gods will be able to help you on the quest. Most are already incapacitated, and their confusion will only grow worse. One thing might bring unity to Olympus again—an old wrong finally
avenged. Ah, that would be sweet indeed, the scales finally balanced! But it will not happen unless you accept my help."

  "I suppose you won't tell us what you're talking about," Hazel muttered. "Or why my brother Nico has only six days to live. Or why Rome is going to be destroyed."

   Nemesis chuckled. She rose and slung her sack of cookies over her shoulder. "Oh, it's all tied together, Hazel Levesque. As for my offer, Leo Valdez, give it some thought. You're a good child. A hard worker. We could do business. But I have detained you too long. You should visit the reflecting pool before the light fades. My poor cursed boy gets quite...agitated when the darkness comes."

  And then, the Godess climbed on her bike and sped off, leaving a cloud of inky smoke and three distraught teenagers in her wake.

    Hazel bent down. All the broken cookies and fortunes had disappeared except for one crumpled slip of paper. She picked it up and read, "You will see yourself reflected, and you will have reason to despair."

  "Fantastic," Leo grumbled. His gaze switched onto Blaire who still seemed incredibly gloomy. "Let's go see what that means."

Lyn speaks / Turn up for this long ass chapter that actually hurt my feelings to write. I listened to Blue by billie eilish on loop. I hate Olivia so bad actually. Unedited and also so sorry for the wait :(