I laughed at Cliff for his ‘superhero’ Dreams.

We’re besties, that means we’re allowed to be assholes to each other sometimes.

Anyway, some random Dream spirit would manage to squirm through his wards and give him the most obvious, ridiculous Dreams. Ones where he was on top of the world, being awesome and rich and famous and all that jazz. I’ve heard everything from the Mist being gone and he was an actual dog-headed superhero to him being voted to Chief Lector of the House of Life, the head honcho of all the Egyptian magicians. 

Yeah, right.

Then his alarm would go off and he’d remember that, actually, everything sucks! He had chores to rush, his half-finished homework to bullshit and if he didn’t get up right now, he was going to be late for the school bus. 

I didn’t understand how he could let himself get suckered that badly. His disappointed grumbling was hilarious. Dreams were Dreams for a reason. What was the point of wishing they were real?

So.

I’m an idiot.

And a hypocrite!

I was the one who asked Morpheus to let me see my parents in a Dream when the Quest got to me. I hadn’t known Mom’d actually be there when I asked. I was prepared to settle for a shade.

And I would have given anything for last night’s Dream to be real.

I felt like I could take on the entire world, and every god on it at the same time. I had my cat buddy ready to kick ass with me, reconnected with an old friend and was allowed to forget about my Quest. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid, because there was nothing to be afraid of. My big brother Darkness was there! I could feel his awareness of me the entire time, like I was worth something! I wasn’t small and weak anymore! Mom had nothing to be ashamed of, because I was like him! Like all of them! I was -

I 

I was

And then I woke up feeling like absolute, utter dogshit.

That had been tap danced on by someone in razor sharp stiletto heels.

Before they wiped me off on a wet curbside and threw me into a burning dumpster.

“Blarghable!”

It was worse than just waking up and remembering that Luke nearly died yesterday, my asshole rabbit party member was at fault for being her asshole self and that we had ten days to find where Ares’ stashed the Master Bolt.

Way worse.

Because it was all that and I was fucking sick!

Every inch of me hurt with this tight, dry pain making me feel strangely bloated, like if I moved too much, I would tear out of my paper thin skin. I had a stuffy nose and a killer headache. I felt like I had a concussion. The world was tilting back and forth like I had water in my ears, my clothes were sticking to me with sweat because I needed out of this sauna that was my immune system and my stomach…

“Urghhuah!”

My stomach hated the ever living shit out of me.

I was hanging halfway off the bed, trying not to vomit all over my sheets and getting most of it on the hardwood floor and the yoga mat. And let me tell you, Rhea’s lasagna and her chocolate chip cookies did not taste the same coming back up. 

It also squirmed in my mouth.

I was blaming the lasagna.

“Guurgghah!”

Or maybe the cookies.

I also wouldn’t put this past Alecto’s cooking skills.

Mom’s given me some questionable shit to eat before, sure. And maybe I had a habit of trying out stuff like those honey ants and fried greasy three-headed snake sticks I got Sam to buy for me, but nothing I ate in the Dreamlands counted! 

None of it could move after being swallowed!

I want a refund!

I threw up again. 

I don’t know how long I spent upchucking, but the tank ran on empty pretty quick. Nothing but scorching bile and wriggling chunks I was starting to think were pieces of my intestines. I would not be surprised if I was actually spitting up my entire digestive system. The way my stomach ached and burned, twisting itself even tighter into knots, sending a sick flush right through my skull was not filling me with confidence. I laid there, half off the bed, head hanging down hearing blood rush in my ears as I panted, coughing. The yoga mat was covered in what Sam would call a dog’s breakfast. A thick slurry the color of kibble filled with mushy chunks and writhing bits of a gelatinous, sickly pale meat that I vaguely remembered eating.

At the bottom of an ocean.

I don’t -

I don’t know how that’s a thing.

Damocles was the only thing capable of following me out of the Dreamlands. Because Mom made sure it could. Even now, it hung from my neck back in its place of honor as a silver pendant. 

Nothing I eat in the Dreamlands counts.

This can’t -

It’s got to be Rhea’s chocolate chip cookies. They were too good.

That’s how you know they’re evil.

The guest room door opened soundlessly as the star-spawn baker from hell poked her head in.

“Are you - “ she started. I tilted my head just enough to see her out of the corner of my eye as I stared at the steaming pile of vomit. Or maybe it was smoking? I think the yoga mat was melting. We both watched as one of the flailing pieces, like a demented severed limb flopped its way under the bed.

I blinked slowly.

Um.

Okay.

Rhea pinched the bridge of her nose for a second.

“Why?” She asked me.

I wanted to answer that.

But I -

I got nothing.

I can’t think straight and I have no clue.

“Right. I’ll just - “ Zeus’ mom was honestly in a tie dyed belly shirt and blue sweatpants as she waved a hand in my general direction. I felt something in the world change as the smell of bile disappeared. 

I could do that, I thought fuzzily.

I had done it.

“You’re - I heard that? I think your brain is leaking,” Rhea said.

It was just like when I fixed the tears in my couch because Sam hated scratching posts and authority. A simple exertion of will. I painfully flopped back onto my bed and feebly tried to kick my sheets off. My legs were noodles, so I didn’t get very far. Everything I was wearing was sticking to me.

I had the thought.

Why don’t I just do it right now?

Rhea barked. “Don’t - !”

My stomach tore.

It felt like Zeus tagged me with a lightning bolt to the belly button. Pain seared right through the center of my navel to my spine, then crawled up it. Everything locked up. My limbs. My thoughts. My blood.

I couldn’t even scream.

Rhea caught me as I fell off the bed. 

The jolt of halted movement was all it took.

I threw up all over Apollo’s grandmother.

Not my best moment.

Not gonna lie.

She stiffened and blew a harsh breath out her nose.

“...yup. Just like your sister,” she said blandly before willing the mess off us. 

I didn’t even have the energy to cringe.

On a scale of one to ten, with one being ‘miserable’ and ten being ‘doing great’ I was at ‘demigod shaped turd bucket.’ So maybe a negative five. Aftershocks were making my fingers curl into twitching claws. I hurt all over. My fever was a billion degrees. I doubted I would be able to keep down water right now.

Am I dying? I thought slowly, draped all over Rhea.

Maybe?

Was my very first illness actually going to take me out?

Lame.

I tried to straighten, but from the way her hands hovered, purposeless around my shoulders, I wasn’t doing a good job. I knew I was swaying in place, taking deep breaths to try to scrounge up some strength.

I opened my mouth to apologize for throwing up on her - 

And then pressed my lips together when my stomach launched a surprise attack, sending a rush of burning bile to the back of my throat. Rhea’s expression scrunched up in sympathy as she pressed a cool hand against my burning forehead. It took the edge off of the nausea, letting me swallow it back down. 

“Easy, now,” Rhea said softly as that smokeless fire swirled around the hand on my head. “Don’t push yourself.”

I leaned into that hand.

I knew she was trying to help me.

I knew that.

I still felt the heady rush of a greedy, molten tug in my gut as my stomach painfully snapped at her, like a starving dog offered a treat going for the whole bag instead.

She gently clapped back.

I say gently (and it had to be real gentle) because if the Matriarch of Swarms actually decided to metaphysically haul off and punch me in the gut? I’m not sure there would be enough of my soul left to complain to Mom about it.

Even if it definitely felt like she just hauled off and punched me in the gut.

My stomach cratered. 

I bowled over as air rushed out of me in a harsh cough that was followed by a torrent of searing hot liquid iron. My hand flew to my mouth, because I didn’t want to throw up on her again, but I couldn’t hold it back. 

I coughed again. Bright red blood dribbled through my fingers.

Oh.

Fuck. 

I really am dying.

“Ah,” Rhea said after a moment. 

Then she picked me up. 

Pain suddenly lanced down my back over my shoulder blades. My stomach was stitched shut into a cold ball of ice. My head felt like it had just spun right off my neck and some part of me, hurt and scared, lashed out like a dumbass. 

I felt like I had just snapped a tripwire holding a ton of concrete blocks over my head.

The hairs on the back of my neck quivered as Rhea slowly raised an eyebrow at me. The hum of a thousand gossamer wings buzzed in the back of my head as I felt a rumble travel my bones, like something massive had just shifted right underneath my feet. The floors and walls of the unassuming light blue bungalow home actually buckled with just the threat of Rhea paying attention to me.

Attention I did not want!

I went limp like a puppy held up by the scruff.

“That’s what I thought,” the former Queen of the Gods snorted. “You’re adorable.”

I was never going to get any respect on this Quest.

Her home shifted around us as she took a step, transporting us from the guest room to the living room. The living room looked a bit better from earlier with my and Apollo’s help. It was more blank, with the piles of newspapers and photo albums and collections of fine china mostly packed away into their cardboard boxes. The sewing table with the ruler attached to it and folded bolts of cloth and sewing machine was still there and so was the randomly placed ratty sofa, looking as if someone had just dropped a piece of doll house furniture into the room. Like every room in her house, there were lions. A pair was lounging on some flat boxes before a recliner chair.

Rhea slammed the door shut behind her with her foot.

Someone squawked in surprise.

“Wha - oh.” That someone sounded a lot like Artemis. But, uh, she’s currently a rabbit so it can’t be her. I inclined my head, trying to take a look. “Is - what happened to him?”

“Domain sick,” Rhea answered absently as she bumped one of her curious lions away with her hip. “Probably.” 

What?

Was that bad or do I just have a god cold?

I was set down into the blissfully cool reclining chair. Was this real leather? I burrowed into it as much as I could. Rhea tossed a feather-light sky blue duvet decorated with rainbows over me. My arm was immediately nudged by an ice-cold cat nose. Just flopping my hand on top of the fluff so I could pet the lion laying his head on my armrest was exhausting. 

‘Who’s a good boy?’ I mouthed at the lion, because my stomach was threatening to rebel if I put any more effort into it. He gave me that deadpan look cats do so well, but clearly the scritches were worth more than his pride.

Rhea flapped her hands in my direction, sending the bangles around her wrists clicking. “A real downer, but he can tough it out, I think.”

“What?” The Artemis-sound-alike said blankly. 

I felt like asking that too.

But I was just too strung out.

Miserable.

Thinking was hard.

The second lion shuffled a bit closer. A female, since she didn’t have a mane, and there was a small auburn rabbit perched on her head as both of them stared at me. 

I blinked, hard. 

Nope. 

Rabbit is still there. 

Wow.

My fever must be bad.

The lioness huffed and actually rolled its eyes at me.

Rhea was already turning away, folding my Celtic shirt into a neat square with my jeans slung over her shoulder. I looked down at myself and weakly picked at the black silk chiton she replaced my clothes with. The blood on my hands was gone too.

I hadn’t even felt her do it.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t felt Nemesis swipe our train tickets either. 

Mom graduated me from my Sensitivity lessons with a D- and just didn’t want to tell me I sucked, apparently.

“What?” the rabbit said again and I could feel my eyes try to pop out of my head. The rabbit’s nose was twitching, and it’s mouth was moving a little, but it was more like the voice was being thrown into my ears rather than actually coming from it. 

“Domain sickness,” Rhea repeated, turning to the animals with raised eyebrows. She tossed my clothes into the air where they vanished. “You… do know what that is - “

“I know what it is!” The bunny snapped. “Why - he is mortal. That is not possible - “

“Ha!” It was Rhea’s turn to cut the bunny off with a harsh bark of laughter. Her compound eyes shimmered blood red for a second, before settling back into emerald green. “And who are you?” the Matriarch of Swarms asked slowly. There was ice in her voice and something more than a little cruel. “Has Selene’s chariot gone to your head, that you would tell me what is and is not possible, child?”

The rabbit shrunk back.

Selene’s chariot?

“Artemis?” I rasped in disbelief.

I saw that same disbelief mirrored in the rabbit’s eyes as her head snapped towards me.

She was missing my jacket.

Maybe it was in the laundry. Blood and seawater are hell on fabrics.

“How - ?” She swung back to Rhea. “Are you - ?”

“No,” Rhea hummed as she paced along the walls of the room, trailing symbols glowing with her smokeless fire along the paisley wallpaper. I could almost read them, like I had learned the language a long time ago and if I just thought about it for a few more minutes, it would all come rushing back. It’s got to be some form of Greek, right?  “It seems he doesn’t need help to speak, unlike you,” she said, stepping over some of the boxes and around the easel in the corner. “Either he received leave or he is strong enough to resist.”

What?

I searched the room with aching eyes until I found the window. My breath caught as my stomach twisted uncomfortably. Underneath the bamboo blinds and behind the glass was an abyss. I couldn’t see even an inch beyond the walls of the house.

It was still Night.

I wanted to believe I’d only been Dreaming for an hour. Time is weird in the Dreamlands, right? A thousand years could pass in five minutes if you were unlucky. Wilhelm loses track all the time.

But I knew better.

“Strong enough - of course,” the rabbit spat, her disbelief turned to anger. “Even now Fate mocks me. A boy I refused and her own personal perversion of divinity, her spawn.”

My head pounded. “I’m not - “

“Save your lies for someone who would believe it!” Artemis snarled. Her ears were pinned back against her head, auburn fur bristling. “You think I did not notice how easily you shed your humanity when in danger?” But I - “Stop pretending! I do not require your pity!” The bunny was nearly hyperventilating. “What did you want from - “

The lioness tossed the rabbit off her head.

I bit my tongue as Artemis hit the beige carpet hard, rolling once before her former perch placed a heavy paw on her back.

I don’t understand.

Was this about - about what I said on the beach?

“Ata…“ the bunny squeaked, betrayed.

“Atalanta,” Rhea said softly as she traced the windowsill with a burning finger. “Take her back to her room, if you would. And keep her there, until she decides to behave.” The lioness obediently dropped its head, picking up the small woodland creature up within its massive jaws.

Artemis went very, very still between those teeth.

I don’t blame her.

I turned to my lion buddy. If that was Atalanta, then was this one her dumbass boyfriend? Apollo said there was an IQ threshold and anyone that went out of their way to piss off a god just to get their rocks off fell far below it.

Can’t argue with that.

I tilted my head questioningly.

He chuffed under my hand and then licked the leather arm rest. I gave him a narrow eyed look back.

Maybe not.

“But - “ Artemis protested weakly. 

Rhea turned away from her designs to regard the room with a cool look. She retraced her steps back around the room as the lioness padded to the door, rabbit in mouth. 

“I - Grandmother, why - “ The rabbit wiggled a little, prompting the lioness to pause.

“You disappoint me,” was the simple reply. Rhea checked her work, completely dismissive. This wasn’t Apollo’s groovy grandmother speaking. This was the Queen. “I will not tell you how to treat your nephew, the son of Hermes,” the boy Artemis said she refused. Luke. What did that mean? When did that even happen? “But this one is my cousin. You forget yourself.”  

That sparked a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest that had nothing to do with my fever.

My cousins were awesome.

“It’s okay,” I croaked at Rhea. “I’m not offended.”

In return, she tilted her head in my direction, but didn’t spare Artemis a look. “But I am.”

Ouch.

The rabbit blanched as the lioness trotted out of the room and the silence was allowed to hang for a moment. 

I shifted in my recliner.

That had -

That had probably been about what I said on the beach.

‘If he dies, you die.’

Now that I didn’t have Luke’s blood on me, I felt a little ashamed about threatening Artemis like that. 

Because I knew Dad would be.

I guess I’m more like my mother than I thought.

“I had - “ I began, trying to explain what the problem was. More for Rhea’s sake than Artemis’. “On the beach, I - “

“I heard,” Zeus’ mother murmured. “As was your right.”

“What?” I blurted out and regretted it as my head spiked with pain. My stomach roiled. This was her granddaughter we were talking about, an Olympian. “But I’m just - “ The Queen of the Titans looked at me. The words ‘a demigod’ died in my mouth. I looked down at my hands again, half-expecting them to be painted red with my blood. “It was too far.”

“Was it?” Rhea gently shooed my lion buddy away as she took a seat on the couch beside me. She reached for the table that hadn’t been there a second ago to pick up a glass of water that also hadn’t been there earlier. She passed it to me with a quiet, “Slowly.”

I took a cold sip. It hurt going down.

“You have no idea what her punishment means, do you?” She asked.

“She’s mortal,” I said. 

And a rabbit.

Maybe there was something more to it than Mom’s terrible sense of humor?

Rhea blew out a breath like she was banishing the Titan Queen from the room. “Rabbits.” She paused. My heart sank. “Rabbits are a species that do not need disease or starvation to turn to cannibalism.” 

She said it so easily.

Like it was an interesting factoid she read about in a magazine one day and not something she had personal history with.

My stomach twisted. I put the cup down. 

Rhea studied me for a moment. “A mother rabbit when frightened, overwhelmed and… sometimes for no reason at all, will kill and eat her newly born young.”

Artemis was the goddess of Childbirth.

All of her Names regarding children…

I felt like someone had just jabbed me in the throat. I could almost see Luke’s wry grin and equally wry, ‘What symbolism! Apropos, isn’t it?’

If anyone could pass judgment on a god for - for dereliction of duty…

It would be Fate.

“Her transformation is an open invitation,” Rhea continued, running a hand through her dark hair. “Fate’s a bit unglued, this is the culprit, real ‘will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest’ energy, except they might actually be rewarded for it.”

Like a pirate’s black spot complete with a bounty. 

A mark for death.

I wasn’t stupid all the time. 

My sisters, the Fates, gave Artemis that Domain just like they gave Apollo his Prophecy. They should have stepped in sooner. The Domains they grant are their responsibility. And if they slack off, our mother was the Supreme Court. 

Which usually meant they could do whatever they wanted, but Mom cared about me.

This was thousands of years in the making, and would have continued for thousands more because Mom didn’t really care. I knew she would have continued not giving a shit until I was involved. The Quest could have chosen any god. Athena would have worked, she had a War Domain. Apollo’s Archery might be able to swing something. Going on a Quest with Herakles or Nike would have been awesome.

Hindsight let me see the trap. I was twelve. A child. Mom gave Artemis just enough rope to hang herself.

But Artemis didn’t know that.

It was her final offense.

And Mom was not a forgive and forget kind of person. 

This is why Nemesis and Khione did what they did. The Quest doesn’t matter. Even if we succeeded, Mom had no intention of letting Artemis make it out alive. Ever. The only thing I could use to buy her life was my boon.

And I gave that to Luke so he could help me help her survive.

No wonder she didn’t answer any of my pleas.

This is what fighting Fate feels like.

Like shit.

“Does she know what it means?” I whispered.

“The former goddess of the Forest and all the wildlife within it, rabbits included,” Rhea reminded me gently. There was that soft, pitying look again. “Fate was not subtle, not this time.”

Yeah.

She knows.

I was going to ask if Zeus knew, but honestly, who cares if he knew the difference between ‘probably will die’ and ‘definitely will die’ when he made her go anyway.

Fuck him.

“But you - ” I started, before I realized I was dumb. There were rules. If Erebus got in serious trouble, I couldn’t do anything either. It’d have to be Mom. Real old school hierarchy setup, but. Gods. “You can’t do anything. ” 

Fuck.

I didn't let myself think about abandoning Artemis for too long, because I swore to give Luke my boon for helping me protect her. As long as Luke was onboard, I couldn’t be seen trying to renege on it by sabotaging his efforts, because I swore I would.

Luke almost died.

Asking him to give up now?

The Styx was always watching.

I - 

I think I fucked myself over.

The star-spawn paused and pinned me with a hard look that made my spine tingle.

“Can’t? ” She questioned me, deliberately light as she leaned her chin on a hand, propped up on the couch arm rest. “Not won’t?”

“Uh,” I said, taken aback. “Isn’t the Pit - “

“Father still sleeps, yes,” Rhea nodded. 

Oh phew, I was worried for a second there. 

I will address her calling the Pit her dad later.

“And you wouldn’t ask your mom to petition my mom,” I reasoned out loud. “Because…a lot of reasons?”

“Plenty,” she drawled, amused.

Like I said, Rhea was loyal.

The Earth Mother hadn’t been.

And also holds one hell of a grudge.

“So…”

“I do wonder what your mother has in mind for you,” she said instead with iridescent compound eyes as she leaned in and flicked my nose with a finger. “You are just as right as you are wrong.”

Um.

“I am not able to intercede on my granddaughter’s behalf before the god within Fate, because that would never be an option.” Huh? “I could only do that if Artemis was not Young.” Her lips tugged into that almost smile she had when she heard my Prophecies. “And if I was not using the Name Rhea.”

Oh.

God within Fate.

She means Mom’s original Name. The First Name. 

The Names of an Elder God were more like avatars. Sock puppets. Mom calls them Masks, you get the idea. They are always there, but drawing attention to that is stupid and probably wouldn’t end well. You gotta know what you’re doing. They are probably using that Name for a reason, like not wanting to kill you by proximity damage and, if they’re anything like Mom, also wouldn’t appreciate the game being ruined. 

So be polite and call them by their preferred nouns.

And pronouns.

Sometimes Mom is...

Yeah.

There you go. Elder God Etiquette 101. 

Elderquette.

“Qetesh can, perhaps, on the behalf of Selene’s successor,” Rhea said thoughtfully and the buzzing, humming undertone in her voice slid through my bones with hollow knives. You couldn’t see the difference in her eyes, but you could feel it. Elder Gods were always there.

Even when asleep and Dreaming.

Especially when Dreaming.

“Athirat, maybe,” she mused. “Or - ah, Cybele.”

And I -

I was going to throw up again.

Rhea breathed in a sharp breath and the pressure disappeared. “Man. You are… hella sensitive, aren’t you?”

“I - “ I swallowed hard and nearly regretted those sips of water. “I don’t think so?”

“More sensitive than Dionysus was, for sure,” she said. Sections of the fiery writing on the walls of the room lit up and changed around, casting an eerie light on the cardboard boxes and the vine pattern in the beige carpet. “I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t worry, I’ll have you back right cherry in a bit.”

My head was spinning. 

Was she just talking about demigod Dionysus in general or was he sick too when she met him? 

“If I’m sick, then maybe Apollo - “ I tried.

She shook her head. “The absolute last thing you need is more divine energy anywhere near your soul, hun.”

That didn’t sound great.

“Besides, he is of the sun.” Her lips ticked up in a mirthless smile as she glanced at the dark window pointedly. “He is likely occupied.”

I nodded weakly.

“Domain sick?”

“A failed apotheosis,” she explained in words that made no sense, because she was talking about me. “Overextended divinity, so much so that it starts changing things.” She crossed her arms and legs, absently. “And burning other things for fuel.” Like mortality. “But you didn’t have enough to keep it up.”

“Oh,” I whispered. 

“Yeah, ‘oh.’” She clucked her tongue. “If that’s not what happened, whatever you did is close enough. Don’t do it again. You might shatter.”

Like Aphrodite did.

Rhea waved it off as she stood up, almost springing from the couch. “You can recover, one hundred percent. It’s a drag, but burn out is temporary.”

Breaking, not so much.

If it was, Aphrodite would be whole.

I guess that made more sense. I was mortal, and Artemis was surprised because she didn’t know my brother gave me a boost. She thought Rhea was saying I did this to myself. I didn’t. I guess Erebus did me a favor and it gave me a sugar high. This was the fallout. 

The crash.

…

I probably shouldn’t have eaten the sea monster.

In my defense, I was hungry and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

“- this’ll be your pad while you’re here,” Rhea was saying as I regretted every decision I made last night. “Bathroom is that door, kitchen is this door, boob tube - “ a large flat screen TV appeared on the wall opposite me, complete with a flare of the writing on the wallpaper and a remote on the couch arm rest by me. I don’t want to know why the television has a name like ‘boob tube.’ The 60s were weird. 

“Sleep in the chair.”

“And the…” I waved a weak arm at the walls.

“Suppressors,” Rhea said bluntly. Like my room at Camp Half-Blood. “Keeps the ambience in check so I don’t off you by accident. The excess has to go somewhere because I don’t want you poppin’ off, freaking out and blowing yourself up, you dig?”

That’s fair.

“Gimme some skin if you understand, lil’ cuz,” she held out a hand. I grinned as I gave the Titan Queen a high five. The warm and fuzzies were back. Lil cuz. I could get addicted to meeting relatives that wanted me in their family tree. And weren’t jerks. “Far out.” She grinned back, all teeth. She ruffled my hair. “I wish your mother told me about you,” she said wistfully. “I missed babysitting sprogs.”

“I threw up on you,” I quipped faintly.

“‘Teia and Aether did the same. Weak stomachs,” she quipped back with a sage nod. “Plagues all your mom’s kids.”

The last time the Stele household heard from Aether, he was sleeping off the indigestion that came from eating a cold gas giant in the Boomerang Nebula.

Weak stomachs?

“Oy,” I grunted.

She made a raspberry sound. “Just shout if you need anything. You’re family, I’ll hear you.”

That fired a few of my neurons.

“That’s why you heard Luke?” I asked quietly.

“That dropout?” Rhea blinked. “Nah, he - “ She tilted her head, pausing. “He caught my attention.”

A small lion cub darted into the room, looked around with big, blue eyes and then ran out again. His sibling tumbled in after him and decided to stay, trotting over to Rhea who picked her up and tucked her underneath her arm.

“Your voice might go away in an hour or two,” she tossed out as she made her way to the door that led to the kitchen, tickling the cub underneath the chin. “But don’t be surprised if it doesn’t - “ Rhea hesitated. This strange expression I couldn’t read scrunching up her nose and brow. “Demigod.”  

The door shut behind her.

“‘Kay,” I whispered.

I lasted maybe three minutes sipping water before I figured out that I had no idea what you’re supposed to do when sick. I don’t think taking care of Dad when he had a bit too -

Oh shit, Dad!

I flung my hand out for my backpack. Hauling it up onto my lap left me feeling like I’d run a marathon, but I found my phone and money purse. 

“Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering.” I fished out a gold drachma and tossed it into the enchanted rainbow. 

The coin bounced on Rhea’s beige carpet.

A lump lodged itself in my throat as the small rainbow silently hung in the air in front of me.

Right.

It’s still Night. 

She’s…probably busy.

I swiped my thumb across the hieroglyph and the rainbow faded. I bit my lip and tried not to think about how Mom was too angry to think about me.

There was a chime, like someone just rang Rhea’s doorbell.

A rainbow flickered in front of my face.

My heart leapt as an image appeared in it and then I regretted it when said image nearly burned out my eyeballs.

There was a giant coruscating flashing neon lights thing made of spinning discs, like someone had taken the idea of an astrolabe and a rave party and not only built a ten sided starfish out of it, but decided to glue golden butterfly wings to its back for good measure. It was bright, spitting sparks of blue lightning and looking at it did not do my head any favors.

“Oh crap!” The starfish said and then it was a person.

A gold butterfly winged…gorgon…mermaid…person standing before absolutely massive ebony wood and silver doors etched with art-deco, framed in a pitch black metal that matched my Stygian Iron dagger. She had thin sea-green tentacles for hair lashing about a sharp featured emotionless face that looked more like a shark than a human, with sharp scales, fluttering gills and dappled patterns that slithered across her form. She glowed like a humanoid firefly and her three eyes were those spinning rings of neon colors.

“You - are fine.” For a moment, her look changed again to a dark haired human woman with the gold butterfly wings and a shimmering tie dye toga with a silver shawl, but then she seemed to change her mind and just stayed fishy. Her hair-tentacles pointed at me. “You’re Hypnos’ little buddy, aren’t cha?” she asked in a burbling, watery voice. “My bad, I assumed only gods would be able to call me right now.”

She said it matter-of-factly, but I still felt like there was a question.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I know you’re busy. I just wanted to check up on my father.”

She glanced back at the closed doors. “Yeah, I got a moment. Remind me who he is?”

“Dorian Stele, Manhattan.”

There was a beat of silence and then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, those are some nasty wards around him and at least half of them are Mr. Apollo’s. I probably could punch through them - “

“That’s okay,” I breathed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off my chest. Dad’s fine. “I can talk to him later, just wanted to know he’s okay.”

Amphitrite’s first cousin inclined her head. “Anyone else?”

I thought about it. I could call Camp Half-Blood? I don’t know what to say though, besides ‘not dead yet, but not for lack of trying.’ I sure as hell wasn’t going to spill the beans on Ares having the Master Bolt. Clarisse, Mark and Ryan of Ares Cabin were kind of friends. It would make them pariahs overnight. Telling the Hunters about Artemis would just be cruel. Hypnos was at his Mom’s house, Sam had been sick and tired of my shit when I left and I doubt Iris could reach the Dreamlands anyway. I can just pray to Apollo and everybody else…

Wasn’t Greek.

“Not unless you’re doing cross-pantheon again.”

She made a bubbling sound. “Not for another seven years, unfortunately.”

I did the math.

It physically hurt.

“What happens in 2012?” I asked slowly.

That got me a wide shark toothed grin. 

“Nothing!” Iris chirped. 

Should I be worried?

I feel like I should be at least a little concerned.

…I’ll worry about it after my Prophecy is up.

“Now, you really need to detox,” the Messenger Goddess of the Rainbow lectured. “Water’s nice,” she pointed at my glass. “But green tea. Or lemon water. Eat lots of fruit, brown rice and some asparagus and kale, oh! Greek yogurt really helps cut down on the repeats and honestly? Go Vegan. I swear by it.” 

The rainbow blinked out.

Butch’s mom…

…is odd.

I dialed Cliff next.

The high pitched squealing only sounded for a second before he picked up.

“You’re fucking alive!” Was the first thing he said. “Now is this crap your fault or no? I have a bet riding on this.”

That was the second thing my best friend said.

“Seriously?” I deadpanned.

“Absolutely.”

“Cliff.”

“Hey man, last thing I heard, you were asking about an experimental prototype teleport function because of the Rhamnousia and who’s her mom again?”

The Night.

Even the Egyptians knew that messing with her kids was a game of Russian Roulette.

“This isn’t my fault,” I protested.

“Damn.”

You can feel the love.

“How are you talking, by the way? We’ve got the Nome warded up the ass - “

“I’m…” I looked around my new ‘pad’ in Rhea’s house. The lettering on the walls shimmered. “Someplace that’s warded too.”

“Cool. Stay there.”

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Duh.”

“Just saying.”

“This has nothing to do with Nemesis.” I dragged us back on topic. “Her mom just…thought I was interesting a while back?” I didn’t know how else to explain it. “And my mom…just found out and didn’t like it?”

“So it is your fault!” Cliff said triumphantly.

In the background, someone swore colorfully. I could hear the thuds of frantic footfalls leave the room.

Guess I was on speakerphone.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“If you didn’t exist, would this be happening right now.” He said it like he already knew the answer.

Because he did.

“That’s not fair!”

“Yeah, so, two of them. At the same time. Just - “

“Blame my mother?” I offered.

“Oh, I will.” Cliff made a whining noise. “I’ve been up for over twenty four hours thanks to someone calling me at unholy hours for random bullshit and then that same someone - “

“Oh my god, I get it! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, yeah.” I heard the rustling of paper. “But…look, I know you’re on an errand for the Greeks, but if you get the chance - maaayyybeeee stop by? It’s your birth mother. And Houy will vouch for you.”

“Really?” I felt my stomach sink. “I’m Greek. In an Egyptian Nome.”

That hasn’t happened for…

A long time.

Cliff sighed. “Yeah.”

“How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as it could be!” 

That…really wasn’t saying much.

“I mean, we’re still panicking,” he continued. “Have you seen the news? ” He asked, like I wasn’t on a cross country road trip for Olympus. With a time limit. “There’s a bunch of people dying in their sleep and the White House press conference was held on a whiteboard and passed notecards because people can’t make noise. No one really knows what to do. The last time was before the House stuffed the gods into a fridge.”

“That was kind of a shit decision. What happens when you need those gods?” I sniffled as my stuffy nose got a little unstuffed by starting to run and dug a packet of Kleenex out of my backpack. 

Something about said shit decision was also giving me a fucking wild sense of deja vu.

Something about gods in a fridge.

‘Don’t.” Cliff sighed again. “I’ve been hearing that from a dozen different people using different words and three different Egyptian dialects - “ His voice picked up. “For the past twenty four hours! That I’ve been up - “

“Bye, Cliff,” I said.

“Because someone - “

He was laughing when I hung up.

My friends. 

Are just the worst kinds of people.

I spent a little bit playing Golden Sun on my Gameboy and nibbling on a plate of flat bread and feta cheese that came out of nowhere. I did watch the news for a bit. He was right. They were all relying on text, not audio.

And I’m dyslexic.

I can just barely tolerate English’s bullshit enough to play videogames, so that was a wash. A few lions wandered in and out of my room, like they were just checking to see if I was still miserable.

I was.

Just to make it clear how much this god flu was fucking me up, it took me another fifteen minutes before I realized: Rhea could not petition the god within Fate. But she never actually said she can’t do anything for Artemis.

Or if she even wanted to.

I fell asleep at one point.

I think Rhea enchanted my chair without telling me, because the Dreaming part of my soul, what Cliff would call the ba, stayed put. Snugly tucked away in my mortal coil.

That was okay.

I understood.

Dreams aren’t real, anyway. Not mortal ones. Not where it counts.

That’s why they’re called Dreams.