ATALANTA | hoo

(4) WHEN YOU PULL SOME STRINGS

Darkness. I was standing in complete darkness, so dark that I couldn't see the floor. I yawned, and my yawn echoed back at me. Must be a big room.

As if my mind was reading my mind, the curtains were drawn as fast as a light switch. Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of a large room (I guessed correctly!) of romantic architectural style. A museum, probably. Because of the paintings on the walls and the whispered voices from people admiring them, I think I was correct once again.

"...finally finished in 1800 Paris, France."

I whipped my head around, searching for the familiar voice.

It was her. Just ... younger. And less tired. She was the guide of a tour group, and she sported a red lanyard, light blue jeans, and an oversized black t-shirt with the museum name on it.

"First time we met," interrupted a low, gruff voice. "Your mom and I."

I turned around again, looking at my dad.

"She knew you were meant for much more than she could handle, Atalanta."

I raised my eyebrows.

"C'mon, you can't just not talk to your dad," he complained. "I'm not even allowed to be here, Atalanta."

"Then why are you?"

He grinned in satisfaction. "As I said — you're more than she can handle. You have a war to fight. And I'm here to help!"

No wonder my mom fell in love with him — he had such golden retriever vibes right now. And what war? The one in the Great Prophecy?

"With what," I demanded. "I'm not even on the quest. I'm just another one of your kids in another one of these cabins."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed as if I had just told him fringes were not in style anymore. "We're gonna get you in on that quest ourselves."

I looked at him weirdly. "I don't think that's allowed."

"You're right, but I've pulled a few strings with the Fates — if you know what I mean."

"Doesn't that mean you killed someone?"

"No, no. That's cut. I pulled. Very different things."

"Okay. Sure."

He grinned once again and popped out of my vision. I sighed in annoyance and tiredness, which I shouldn't have felt because I was dreaming. On the other side of the room, the younger version of my mom made eye contact with me. She stopped talking, her mouth hanging open a bit before confusion covered her face. And then it ended. I was awake.

"That stupid dragon!"

The voice was followed by the frantic shuffling of sheets and the clanking of armor and weapons.

"What?" I asked groggily.

"Armor!"

"Check!"

"Weapons!"

"Check!"

I was left alone in the empty cabin. Everything was in the messiest state (though, everything was always messy) and there were battle plans scattered around the floor.

I grabbed a random shield and spear lying on the floor and stumbled out of the cabin, still in my pajamas and confused about my dream.

"Woah."

Leo was riding a shining bronze dragon into the camp. It looked like the Statue of Liberty had shapeshifted.

"Leo?!" Piper exclaimed. Everyone was as confused as I was, but they all seemed a bit more aggressive. This was the dragon preventing Capture the Flag. It sat down right in the middle of the grassy area.