Chapter Eighteen

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𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙤𝙙 dreams, but, hey, there's a first time for everything apparently

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𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙤𝙙 dreams, but, hey, there's a first time for everything apparently.

She opened her eyes in a black castle. There was a large window to her right, overlooking a bay. She was definitely not in New York anymore.

The castles itself was made of black obsidian, shining dangerous in the bright noon light. There were several statues up ahead, and their faces made Andy's blood chill.

They were the Titans—all of them—made of various materials. She was in the Titan headquarters, on the west coast.

She crept to the end of the entry hall, slipping through several doors until she heard the first voice. She froze.

It was her dad—she recognized the voice from the labyrinth—and Luke—who sounded . . . cold somehow.

"She'll come around," her dad was saying. "I'm sure of it."

"She better," Luke—it must've been Kronos, Andy realized. Luke didn't sound like that. The voice was too old, too evil, too raspy. "Otherwise you'll have failed. I don't have any use for failures."

"You've got to let them think that they've won," her dad explained excitedly. "And then they'll let their guard down. Just wait."

"I've been waiting," Kronos rumbled.

Their voices started to fade, and only as Andy slowly woke up did she realize they were talking about her.




















𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮, 𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 several in-use hospital beds. Clarisse was asleep in a chair to her right, and two Apollo campers bustled around the room quietly, checking on patients.

Chiron was wheeling around the room, too, watching over the injured demigods. He noticed her stirring awake, and rolled over, stopping at her left.

"Ms. Castillo," he said solemnly. "You've been unconscious for almost two weeks."

Andy felt her ribcage. It felt mostly healed, and barely hurt when she pressed down.

"Clarisse had been by your side almost constantly," Chiron continued. "If not for Chris, she probably would've forgotten to eat."

"Chris?" Andy asked, voice dry and cracking from lack of use.

Chiron nodded. "Mr. D. cured him. You've missed a lot. I apologize, but we couldn't exactly put off burning the burial shrouds."

"Where is he?"

Chiron smiled. "He left to go find his mother. Understandably, he thought she might be quite worried."

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