DOGS HAD ALWAYS LIKED Ophelia. She didn't know why. She'd never owned one, far too busy on the run or dodging between dumpsters to care for a pet. But she had met dogs in the street sometimes, especially when she was little. She remembered one in particular: a black lab with fur so soft, she could almost sink into it.

As Ophelia sat on the top step of the empty Camp Half-Blood amphitheater, she smiled at the massive black hound currently trotting towards her. Mrs. O'Leary, Percy's hellhound. The dog's red eyes watched Ophelia carefully, black tar-like drool dripping to the ground.

"What's up?" Ophelia asked.

She didn't expect an answer. And she didn't get one. The hellhound settled next to her panting in the warmth of the evening sun.

"I'm right there with you," Ophelia said. "Too hot for me."

She'd thought about going inside somewhere. But Cabin 11 swarmed with returning campers and the Big House had the new Oracle girl, Rachel. The last campers, a few charioteers from Cabin 5, had pulled up an hour ago. Even with their numbers depleted, Ophelia didn't want to be in the mix of so many.

By now, she suspected most people had heard about Alex's…altercation. It had taken hours before he'd been willing to tell her. But he had. And frankly, she wasn't sure what to think.

Ophelia laid back into Mrs. O'Leary's cool fur. She could hear the hellhound's heartbeat and didn't mind the slight sulfur smell from her breath.

"You know what? If he gets himself killed, I'll kill him first," she said.

Alex wouldn't admit it, of course, but they owed Hermes for stopping Zeus from vaporizing him on the spot. But had she been in his place, she couldn't say she wouldn't have said the same.

She hadn't seen Leah since that morning, when she'd left the girl asleep and gone to defend the lobby of the Empire State Building. She'd heard from Alex and Kitty later, though, of how Leah had manipulated the Mist and hidden the wounded from Kronos.

If the gods had seen fit to punish her for being a child eager to prove herself worthy of love to her mother, a child who later helped other children of other gods, maybe she would march right back up to Olympus with Alex and challenge Zeus too.

What was to keep Zeus from holding her accountable for the war? Ophelia had been with Luke almost from day one. She'd been on the Princess Andromeda when Percy and Annabeth had attacked. She'd been one of the first pledges to Kronos's cause to awaken him.

A thirteen year old who had been alone on the street for half of her life had been offered a home with Luke. She'd been offered a mother and guide with Hecate. She'd been offered love with Alex. 

What had the Olympians offered her? Certainly not a satyr guide to a safe camp, not even a bed in her own cabin.

The air around her began to cool. The shadows lengthened and grew darker. Ophelia sat up from Mrs. O'Leary.

Sure, working with Kronos had been wrong. It had been stupid, siding with the lord of the Titans. But her mother was a Titan. Why wouldn't she have trusted them? And the gods were hardly saints.

Why shouldn't they strike her down, too? A shiver crept down her spine as she looked around at the Grecian architecture of the amphitheater.

Protect yourself. They are coming.

Ophelia closed her eyes. Eris's voice had gotten markedly sweeter since the final stand with Hades. Still cold, but not angry. More like… inviting.

Are you worthy, witch's daughter?

She took a few deep breaths. "Worthy of what?" she said.

If you must ask, you are not.

Ophelia felt the coldness around her fading. She scrunched her eyes shut tighter, trying to will the shadows to stay. A flash of memory made her pause. A mesmerizing crown. A chariot of obsidian and gold. A shining, golden apple.

Her eyes shot open. She didn't need to be recognized. She didn't need to be a queen of the Underworld. But she deserves the love and honor of the gods as befit a child of Hecate. She clenched her fists.

She had helped the gods. She had defended Camp Half-Blood against her own kindred. She's helped kill her family in the name of the Olympians. Tears filled her eyes. She'd done all this, and now the gods wanted to punish those who had not had the love of a boy who had seen what acceptance looked like? If Alex had never come into her life, she would've fought for Kronos to the end. She hadn't known any better.

She was worthy of love. Ophelia felt the tears sting her eyes as she repeated it over and over to herself in her mind. She had to be worthy of love, or else, what was she doing?

Why would she fight for her life every day in the real world, face monsters and death and pain, if she had no worth? Ophelia choked on her tears. She rushed to cover her mouth, to hold in any noise. Mrs. O'Leary sat up straighter, whining right in her ear.

Be worthy. Take the apple.

Ophelia focused on her breathing. She focused on suppressing the tears which seemed to flow now that the days of fighting had come to an end. Exhaustion hit her like a brick to the face.

"Hey! There you are!"

At Percy's voice, Ophelia turned to look over Mrs. O'Leary. Clearly he'd meant his dog, because when he caught sight of Ophelia, he paused in his step.

"Oh. Hey," he said. "Are you okay?"

Ophelia stood up. She nodded. "I'm fine. Mrs. O'Leary wandered in. Figured I'd keep her company, one Underworld girl to another."

"Right." He offered her a small smile. Percy didn't look any less exhausted than she felt. But as he wandered over, he forced himself to get excited as he held out a familiar dolphin chew toy. "Hey! Look what I got!"

The dog shot up. In the amphitheater, her already loud bark shook Ophelia's bones. Percy froze, flinching at the noise. But he recovered quickly.

"Go get it!" he said.

With a strong throw, he sent the dolphin flying. It flew through the air with a single squeak. Mrs. O'Leary leapt through the air after it, causing Ophelia to duck out of pure instinct.

Percy shook his head, chuckling a bit under his breath. He turned back to her. "Have you seen Alex?"

"Not since we got back," she said. Ophelia wandered over, pretending to look back over her shoulder so she could wipe her tears in secret. "Have you seen Leah?"

"Who?" Percy said.

They don't care about you. You have to make them care.

Ophelia frowned. Of course he wouldn't know her. Why would he? Leah had never been to Camp Half-Blood. She'd joined Kronos's army when she was eight, two years ago.

"Never mind."

Percy didn't push it. He looked far too tired. "We're getting ready for… for the funeral rites."

Her stomach fell. But she nodded, told him she would be at the campfire in a few minutes. Maybe honoring their fallen would bring some level of peace. She hadn't found peace in months… well, not entirely true. But the peace of being surrounded by the shades of the Underworld had been more exhilarating than calming.

Ophelia fell into step behind a handful of silent campers. A slow procession from various parts of camp, especially from the cabins, streamed towards the lit campfire by the painted light of sunset. It would've been beautiful, had it not been so tragic.

As she approached the massive campfire, Chiron waved her over. He looked better than when Mrs. O'Leary had dug him out of the rubble that morning. Bandaged, but still regal, his white fur stood out against the lengthening shadows.

"What did you need?" she said, voice low. It didn't seem right, speaking here. There were only whispers as campers settled into wooden benches or stood near shrouds. All too familiar a sight since she'd arrived in Camp Half-Blood.

Chiron offered a small, tight smile. "I had wondered if either you or Alex, or both, would light Ethan's shroud."

Ophelia took a deep breath, throat clenched ever so slightly. She still remembered the agony after Ethan had driven the hilt of his blade into her already injured ribs. She remembered the skin scraping off her fingertips as she'd tried to crawl away from him. The tread of his boot against her aching leg, pinning her against the ground...

Chiron must've seen her hesitation. "I can have someone else do it, perhaps—"

"No." Ophelia said. "I'll do it."

If she would not show Ethan mercy, that he should have been worthy of love by the Olympians and their children, she was no better than Zeus. She accepted the unlit torch from Chiron without another word. It had to be her. Not even Alex could understand what it was like to be a child of a minor god who so often walked the line between good and evil in the eyes of the Olympians.

Alex wasn't hard to find. He stood alone, separated from the rest of Cabin 11 by several paces. But he had put away his sword and armor at last, and Ophelia couldn't help but feel the tiniest relief at that. She joined him, holding the unlit torch close to her chest. Ethan had placed near Cabin 11, anyways, as a child of a minor god.

Her heart hurt throughout the ceremony. Shifting to a deep purple, the flames gave off almost no heat. She figured the only reason the flames hadn't faded to black completely was because the war had ended with these sacrifices.

Several members of the Apollo cabin had fallen. Not least of all Michael Yew. His golden shroud, adorned with an arrow from his quiver, went up in flames. Will Solace did the honors. Ophelia didn't doubt he would be the next Apollo camp counselor, if he hadn't been chosen already. Even so young, they knew he was special. As the Cabin 7 shrouds dissolved in purple flames, the sunset deepend to a blood red.

Silena's bright pink shroud had an embroidered electric spear across the center. Clarisse La Rue of Cabin 5 and Drew Tanaka of Cabin 10 each lit one corner of the shroud. It sparked, the flames consuming it rapidly, leaving only the scent of rose perfume in the air. Ophelia almost couldn't breathe, so taken aback by the beauty and sorrow.

Almost every cabin had lost someone. But at last they came to Cabin 11. Ophelia took a deep breath, looking at the dark shroud of Ethan Nakamura. Crossed swords beneath balanced scales spoke to just how dedicated the boy had been to his mother. Ophelia bit her cheek.

Stepping forward, she held out the torch to grab flames from the campfire.

Are you worthy?

She paused. A better question… were they worthy? Ophelia glanced down at the shroud. Ethan had rejected Camp Half-Blood. Would he want to be set to their flames from their fires. She pulled the torch back. She would give him something better. Something worthy of a child of Nemesis.

She held it close to her face. It smelled of gasoline and funeral oils, maybe myrrh. Ophelia breathed it in.

"Pyr," she whispered.

Brilliant golden flames leapt from the torch. She smiled into the light. There. Much better than cold, violet flames from the campfire he had rejected.

Ophelia lit the shroud without speech, without fanfare. The golden flames said more than any tale she could tell. She hadn't really liked Ethan. But she understood him, and she respected him.

His shroud burned last.

Funeral rites concluded and red sunlight still painting the sky, the campers were led to the dining pavilion. Few spoke. Even the lighter characters like Connor and Travis couldn't seem to find their voices.

For the first time that Ophelia could remember, everyone in Cabin 11 could fit at the Hermes table without an issue. It was a sad reality despite the physical comfort being able to sit without falling off brought her.

Half way through the meal, a squeal and a blur of green broke the solemn silence. A girl shrieked as she barreled through the crowd.

"Grover!"

The whole camp broke into laughs and cheers as Juniper, the beautiful forest dryad, tackled her satyr boyfriend right in the middle of the pavilion. And just like that, whatever spell had held the camp in silence broke.

Conversation picked up. People dared to smile, some through tears. Congratulations went up to various heroes. Clarisse was given a rousing cheer. Percy and Annabeth, too, of course. Even Nico, sitting beside Chiron and Mr. D at the lead table, found himself the center of attention for a while.

Why aren't you at that table, Ophelia?

She had to admit, it was odd, seeing him there. Campers who didn't have cabins sat at Cabin 11. But she supposed it didn't matter.

Not really.

It was just a table.

Ophelia turned back from watching a few guys from the Ares Cabin talk to Nico when she realized the seat across from her had emptied. Alex had been there moments ago. Ophelia frowned. She looked at Kitty but she just shrugged, shaking her head.

It didn't take long for the pavilion to start emptying. About half the campers followed the Apollo cabin back to the campfire for sing-along. She'd overheard Austin urging them to sing so loud that the souls in Elysium could hear about their victory. Still others, not at all amused by that statement, went off to attempt some sleep.

Ophelia, though, sought out Chiron. He sat with Nico, Mr. D no where to be seen. When Ophelia walked over, both stopped their conversation. Chiron smiled.

"What can I do for you, Ophelia?"

She frowned. She hadn't really wanted to have this conversation with another camper around. But she supposed Nico could maybe give some insight, and glancing around, only Percy and Annabeth still remained, seated far away and quite distracted by one another and a cupcake.

"I was wondering if you had seen my sister, Leah Kim?" she said. "I haven't seen her since the end of the battle this morning."

Chiron grimaced. "She fought for Kronos, correct?"

Ophelia felt her skin crawl. But she pushed away her anger. "She saved us. Kitty said she manipulated the Mists so Kronos believed the campers were all dead."

Nico frowned. "She's not dead. I would be able to sense it."

Not yet, at least.

But Chiron's face morphed into a grimace, and then a sigh. He shook his head. "I'm afraid the gods haven't chosen what to do with children who fought for the Titans. Olympus is undecided. In fact, Dionysus has gone back for a meeting. Alex caused quite a stir, earlier. For good or ill, it remains to be seen."

"He said what had to be said."

Ophelia hadn't meant to sound so harsh, and hadn't expected those words until they filled the darkness of the night around them. The red sunset had finally given way to shadows. They made her bolder than sitting beneath the sun in an amphitheater, perhaps.

A great cheer went up as torches blazed up all around and campers, led by Clarisse and the Stoll brothers, rushed Percy and Annabeth.

"The lovebirds need to cool off!" said Clarisse.

Connor volunteered the canoe lake. As fast as the campers had appeared, they took off with Percy and Annabeth over their shoulders, laughing their heads off. At least someone got a happy ending.

Why not you?