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Astrid didn't need to reach the pier to know who'd be waiting for them. She tried not to let her shoulders slump, ignoring the weight of her soaked dress after she discarded the towel lent to them by the Coast Guard. She didn't need to feel any more suffocated.

It was good nobody paid much attention to an odd-looking bunch of kids in the middle of the sea, though it was in bad taste seeing everyone was getting dispatched after the disaster.

The sunrise couldn't be as beautiful as the sunset yesterday with the city burning against it.

Percy's eyes reflected it, the same burning glow alight in them.

They'd just barely made it out of hell after witnessing his mother held captive, and now they were about to confront another god that was more than ready to start a fight, and if he succeeded, a war.

There were no admonishing gods of their essence. A war god is a war god.

Astrid was just miffed she had to be dragged into the middle of everything. But she'll do it again if it meant she can drag Percy out of it. And if he wants to win, then so shall it be.

The god in question stood by the beach, looking like he came straight out of filming The Matrix. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see them. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," Percy said. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power—that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

From his pocket, he took out a ski cap—the kind bank robbers wear—and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

Astrid reluctantly agreed, the soap operas her maman watched were so good and so not the time.

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," Percy said. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

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