Archive of Our Own

Half-bloods tended to have some pretty wild and wacky powers. Notable examples amongst Jiseok’s friends included:

• Jungsu, son of Aphrodite, who could bewitch anyone with his singing voice;
• Gunil, son of Hephaestus, who could rapidly heat, cool, and manipulate metal simply by willing it;
• Seungmin, son of Hermes, who could run just shy of the speed of sound (Jiseok had measured this last week); and
• Jooyeon, son of Apollo, who could heal minor wounds by humming a tune, had a vague form of precognition, and could glow. Literally glow, like a night light.

As a son of Athena, Jiseok didn’t have anything so flashy as all that. What he had was hyperthymesia: perfect recall. He could think back to any given time on any given day and remember exactly where he’d been, what he’d been doing, how he’d felt, and what he’d been thinking about. He could recall anything he read, heard, or saw in perfect detail, which was how he could read nine alphabets and recite Carl Sagan’s Cosmos from cover to cover in three languages.

He hadn’t realised until recently that this was an ability specific to him. He’d thought it was a normal part of being a child of the goddess of wisdom and intellect—being smart was kind of Athena’s thing, and thus her children’s thing. But while the other Athena campers had better-than-average memories, none could recall every detail of their entire lives the way Jiseok could.

Chiron the centaur, Camp Half-Blood’s activities director, had once warned Jiseok that this ability was a double-edged sword. Jiseok couldn’t have agreed more, all too aware of the corners of his mind where memories he would have rather forgotten were filed away in acute, gritty detail, ready to lash out and sink their claws into him if he strayed too near. Avoiding those corners wasn’t always easy.

But he had plenty of bright memories, too, especially those of this past summer. His sunniest summer, as he thought of it, thanks in large part to a certain son of Apollo, who had engaged Jiseok in a slew of silly competitions which, in retrospect, were an obvious excuse to spend more time with him. Jooyeon could literally glow, but he had begun to truly shine in Jiseok’s eyes as the hot, sticky July wore on.

Jiseok remembered the feeling of butterflies performing complex aerial manoeuvres in his stomach as, in a fit of bravery one night in the shadows of the Hades cabin, he’d pressed his lips against Jooyeon’s for the first time.

They’d kissed precisely thirty-three times following that first kiss, and Jiseok remembered every single one in perfect detail. They were all he had to keep himself going until next summer.

Jiseok’s mother (not Athena, but his mortal mother) had died when he was eight years, seven months, and fifteen days old, leaving him in foster care until he was eleven, when he’d run away, been found by a satyr, and brought to Camp Half-Blood. Jooyeon’s mother, however, was alive and well, and Jooyeon loved her very much, so during the school year, he lived with her in Boston, where she was a professor at Berklee College of Music. He went to a normal school with normal kids and did normal kid things and probably barely even thought about Jiseok.

Meanwhile, Jiseok’s perfect memories of his perfect summer with Jooyeon did nothing but make the winter feel even colder and lonelier.

Double-edged sword, indeed.

Demigods and cellphones didn’t mix well, so it wasn’t like they could just text any time they wanted. They’d Iris-messaged each other five times since parting ways at the end of August (it was now February): on Jooyeon’s birthday, on Halloween, on Thanksgiving, on Christmas Eve, and on Jiseok’s birthday.

Today was Valentine's Day, which was a sacred day for Jungsu’s mother, Aphrodite. Accordingly, Jungsu had planned a special celebration with Gunil that Jiseok wanted absolutely no part in. But that was fine, because Jiseok had already arranged a call with Jooyeon.

It was a bitterly cold day, so while waiting for Jooyeon’s call to come through, Jiseok curled up on the rug in front of the gated hearth slotted precariously between the bookshelves at the back of Cabin 6—which he had to himself, since he was the only year-rounder amongst the current Athena campers. It was a magical hearth, of course, emitting heat while burning nothing. Otherwise, it would be a severe fire hazard with all the burnable books and scrolls scattered around.

It was a little past the arranged time, long enough for Jiseok to start to feel antsy, when he saw a flicker in front of the fireplace, which quickly resolved into a hazy floating image of Jooyeon beaming at him, lounging sideways on his bed.

“Boo!” he said.

“Ahh!” Jiseok intoned. “You got me.” But he was smiling—he couldn’t help it.

Even through the Iris-message, Jooyeon glowed. In the fall, he’d bleached his shoulder-length hair to a sunshiney blond, which added to his glow and looked devastatingly attractive against his golden skin. He claimed to have grown and had already expressed how much he was looking forward to towering over Jiseok once they were reunited. Jiseok thought he looked a bit lankier, but he doubted Jooyeon could have grown all that much taller. And anyway, Jiseok had grown, too.

Jooyeon sat up on the side of his bed, peering through the message window at Jiseok’s surroundings. “How much reading have you been doing? It looks like a wind spirit swept through there.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jiseok insisted. “Just… not much else to do around here at the moment. It snowed the other day.”

“Here, too,” said Jooyeon. He reached out of view and his hand returned with an arrow, which he proceeded to twirl between his fingers like a true ADHD demigod. “I thought you’d already read all that stuff. And I know you don’t need to read anything twice.”

“I have. And I don’t,” Jiseok confirmed. “Just… gives my eyes something to do, I guess.”

“Right.”

“So, um,” said Jiseok. “How’s school? And stuff.”

He hated that this felt awkward. Last summer, not one of their conversations had been plagued with awkwardness like this—they’d clicked like an arrow nocking into place, their dynamic effortless and easy and fun.

Jooyeon shrugged. “It’s fine. Boring, mostly. Well…” He shook his head. “Okay, there is something I want to tell you, but not yet. You tell me about you first.”

“Now that’s all I’m going to be thinking about.” Jiseok pulled his knees into his chest. “Nothing’s changed here. Nothing ever changes here.”

“How about the others? How are they doing?”

Jiseok shrugged. “More of the same. Jungsu and Gunil are still unbearable to be around. Half the time, I’m not sure Jungsu even remembers I exist.”

“He is an Aphrodite kid,” said Jooyeon. “It’s probably, like, hardwired into his godly DNA for his little love story to take up all his time and attention.”

“Probably,” Jiseok snickered. Oddly, thinking about it that way did help him feel a little better. “I mean, in a way, it’s kinda good—I might not have become friends with Seungmin if Jungsu weren’t off with Gunil all the time. Oh! Last week, we measured how fast Seungmin can run. I got him to run for exactly one second, ten times, and then measured how far he went each time and averaged the distances, which came out to three hundred and fourteen point eight metres, which is seven hundred and four point two miles per hour. That’s only a little slower than the speed of sound!”

Jooyeon let out a low whistle. “I’m no speedologist, but that does sound pretty fast. How does that compare to the speed of light?”

Jiseok scoffed. “Come on, Jooyeon, they don’t compare at all. Light travels seven hundred million miles per hour.”

“So, if I borrowed my dad’s chariot, I’d definitely beat Seungmin in a race.”

“That hardly seems fair if you’re in a chariot and he’s on foot, although I guess I can’t think of many chariots that can go anywhere close to seven hundred miles per… Wait, Apollo’s chariot cannot go the speed of light!”

“It’s the freaking Sun Chariot, Jiseok.”

“I know, but the sun doesn’t move that fast across the sky.”

“The sun doesn’t move across the sky at all, brainiac—you know that. The Sun Chariot is more like… a manifestation of the sun’s power on Earth. Or something like that. But I’m pretty certain it can go the speed of light.”

Jiseok narrowed his eyes. “I highly doubt it. Since the Sun Chariot represents the sun, my guess would be that it travels about as fast as the Earth spins, which is a thousand and thirty-eight miles per hour, thus allowing it to ‘keep up’ with the sun in the sky.”

“But that’s faster than the speed of sound, right?”

“Yes.”

“So I’d still beat Seungmin in a race.”

“Yes…”

Jooyeon spread his hands with a grin, as if to say case closed.

Jiseok rolled his eyes, but he was smiling just as widely. Maybe he’d been overthinking it earlier—this was the ease he had grown used to with Jooyeon.

Even so, it caused a sudden pang in his chest.

“I wish you were here,” Jiseok sighed.

Jooyeon’s grin faded, and Jiseok regretted saying anything. “Me too,” he said simply. “I miss you.”

Jiseok nodded. Then cleared his throat. “So, um, what was that thing you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh, right. That.” Jooyeon gripped the arrow in his hand in two closed fists. “There’s this kid in my class, just started this semester. He’s dyslexic, and I’m pretty sure he’s ADHD as well, because he never seems to be paying attention in class…”

“You think he’s a demigod,” Jiseok surmised.

“Yep,” said Jooyeon, popping the ‘p’. “I kinda want to talk to him about it, but… I don’t know. Will he think I’m a total lunatic if I suddenly start talking to him about gods and stuff?”

“You are a total lunatic,” Jiseok pointed out. “But it’s not your job to do these things, Jooyeon. You should tell Chiron. Or… I guess I could tell him for you.”

“That would be helpful,” said Jooyeon. “And then maybe get back to me about what I should do.”

“If you want my advice, it’s probably best for you to stay far away from this kid,” said Jiseok, feeling his stomach churn nervously. It wasn’t jealousy so much as genuine concern. The smell of demigods attracted monsters, and two demigods in proximity doubled the allure. At camp, they were safe, but out in the mortal world? Jiseok wouldn’t be surprised if there were already monsters infiltrating Jooyeon’s school, disguised as teachers or students, waiting for their opportunity to attack.

Jooyeon frowned. “Um, well… I kinda already made friends with him…”

Of course he had.

“I think he could be a son of Demeter,” Jooyeon continued. “He doesn’t really talk a lot, but there’s this tree out the front of our school that’s already starting to sprout leaves—everyone’s talking about how weird it is. Blaming it on global warming and stuff. But it’s only that one tree. And you know who I noticed leaning on that tree while waiting for the bus?”

“Okay, but what about other things? Other people?” Jiseok questioned. “Are there any new staff at school, or any students who seem unusually interested in you or this new kid?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” said Jooyeon. “But I guess I’ve been paying more attention to Hyeongjun, trying to figure out if I’m right about him.”

Jiseok wanted to huff and tell Jooyeon off for concentrating on the wrong thing—he should have been more concerned about his safety than who this Hyeongjun’s godly parent was. “Just keep your bow and quiver on you at all times.”

“I will. I do—I carry them in a freaking guitar case everywhere I go. I’m that kid, Jiseok, I’m that kid who always has a guitar case.”

“Your dad is the god of music, Jooyeon. You play guitar.”

“Yeah, but I don’t need to carry one around everywhere, I’m just worried about the Mist making my bow look like an assault rifle or something.”

The Mist was good at hiding the world of gods and monsters from mortals, but sometimes its illusions could be… unfortunate.

“Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it,” said Jiseok. “Just be careful, okay? And keep a better eye on your surroundings.” He started to unfold himself from the ball he’d curled into on the rug. “I’ll go talk to Chiron right now. Maybe he can send a satyr.”

Jooyeon’s eyes followed Jiseok as he stood. He looked regretful. “Right now right now? We barely got to catch up…”

Jiseok felt another pang in his chest. But he also felt a sense of urgency, like he needed to do something right now to make sure his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s new possibly-demigod friend weren’t about to be attacked by monsters within the next few business days (although it was currently Saturday, and he didn’t think monsters took weekends off).

“The sooner Chiron knows, the better,” Jiseok said sensibly.

“Right,” Jooyeon said. “Right, yeah—no, you’re right, of course. I know I should have told him already, but I just…”

“What?” Jiseok prompted.

“I don’t know. I’ve spent two summers at camp now, so I thought it might be different this time, but after being away from camp for a while, it starts to feel like… like it was all just a dream. Like maybe I am actually a lunatic, and there are no gods, and no Camp Half-Blood, and no… you.”

Jiseok’s heart twisted. “But I’m right here.”

“I know,” Jooyeon replied. “I know, but…” He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Go talk to Chiron.”

Suddenly, Jiseok wasn’t sure he wanted to. He felt like if he did, if he let the Iris-message lapse, Jooyeon would slip beyond his reach. Which was an absurd, illogical feeling.

“I miss you,” he said, so quietly he barely heard it himself.

But Jooyeon was a son of Apollo. His hearing was better than most. He reached out a hand, bringing it as close to the message interface as possible. It seemed a little silly, since they couldn’t actually touch, but Jiseok reached out too, until their fingertips appeared to brush against each other.

Despite his perfect memory, it was only once they’d hung up that Jiseok realised he’d forgotten to wish Jooyeon a happy Valentine’s Day. Perfect recall was one thing; the poor short-term memory of an ADHD teenager was another.

Worry nagged at his heart as he trudged up the hill towards the Big House. This whole situation bothered him, but he wasn’t sure how much of it wasn’t just his personal feelings. Was his judgement clouded? Was there actually nothing to worry about? Okay, an unknown demigod was pretty much always something to worry about, and it struck Jiseok as unusual that this kid had reached the age of, what, fourteen? Fifteen? Without being discovered and brought to camp already? Some demigods’ abilities started to manifest as young as five or six, and new campers were usually no older than thirteen.

This kid, Hyeongjun—had he really survived this long without knowing what he was?

Jiseok couldn’t imagine it. Due to the biological constraints of infant brains, his hyperthymesia hadn’t kicked in completely until he was two, but he’d known he was a son of Athena since his earliest memory, when he was just a few months old. That was the day his mortal mother had told him, for the first time, the story of the beautiful goddess who had stolen her heart and replaced it with a baby boy in a golden cradle. As his mother had told the story, Jiseok had felt a second warm presence, though it wasn’t until years later that he’d realised it was probably Athena’s presence he’d felt that day.

Plenty of gods didn’t claim their kids until the deadline of thirteen years old, but Hyeongjun was even older than that. It made no sense. Jiseok didn’t like things that didn’t make sense.

He reached the Big House only to find that Chiron wasn’t there. The camp director, Mr D (otherwise known as Dionysus), who was unfathomably busy watching Iron Chef reruns, told Jiseok that Chiron was attending to some family business in Florida and that whatever Jiseok had to complain about could surely wait until he was back.

“I don’t think it can,” Jiseok insisted, and told Mr D about the potential demigod Jooyeon had met.

“Another one,” the camp director groaned. “There’s little and less difference between gods and rabbits these days.”

“So?” Jiseok prompted. “What are we going to do?”

“I fail to see how any of this is my problem,” Mr D drawled. “I’m sure Chiron will sort it out once he’s back.”

Jiseok felt his jaw clench, but he was the son of the goddess of wisdom, and it wasn’t very wise to argue with a god—even one as frustrating as Dionysus. So Jiseok bade him a mostly polite goodbye and left, stalking back towards the commons.

His thoughts were whirring. This felt too urgent to wait for Chiron to get back. Jiseok could try to contact him by Iris-message and let him know the situation—which he would surely find more in need of immediate action than Mr D had. But how soon would he be able to get back to camp? And who was to say that whatever he was doing in Florida wasn’t equally urgent?

Alternatively, Jiseok could go talk to the satyrs himself, although there weren’t many of them wintering at camp; they tended to prefer the warmer climes of the south. And anyway, they wouldn’t leave camp to go retrieve a demigod without authorisation from Chiron or Mr D.

As the cabins came into view, Jiseok noticed a figure leaving the Hermes cabin. A familiarly tall, lean form.

Another idea popped into Jiseok’s head, the way he himself had spawned from Athena’s head as an infant, a wriggly little brainchild.

Jiseok’s ideas tended to be either sensible, well thought-out, and rational, or they were impulsive, insane, and yet possibly quite genius, in a crazy way. This idea was certainly in the latter category. But it was probably doable, and that was what mattered to Jiseok right now.

He quickened his pace into a jog and called out to get Seungmin’s attention.

“You’re insane,” Seungmin told him when Jiseok shared his idea. “I don’t know if I can run at max speed while piggybacking you.”

“You don’t have to go max speed, just fast enough to get us there quickly.”

Seungmin raised a shrewd eyebrow. “And what do you plan to do once we get there?”

“I’m still figuring that part out,” Jiseok admitted. “In Hephaestus cabin, they’re working on monster-alert watches. It’s like this watch that alerts you when—”

“When a monster is nearby. Go figure.”

“Yes! It’s going to be really useful technology. And I know where Gunil keeps the prototype. So we take that to Boston, and then we… just… check things out?”

Seungmin still looked sceptical, which Jiseok supposed was fair. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was all an elaborate scheme for you to reunite with your boyfriend.”

Jiseok felt heat rush into his cheeks. “Not at all,” he said stonily. “It’s an elaborate scheme to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t get eaten by monsters while I’m not there to save his ass. Plus, I’d like to meet this Hyeongjun kid and judge for myself if he really is a demigod or not. And if he is, then… it’s probably best we bring him back here, right?”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t tend to take these things upon myself,” said Seungmin. “But I won’t lie, a daytrip to Boston does sound kinda fun. I need to buy some new boots.”

“Okay, yeah! Sure,” Jiseok said. “We can go shopping. If that’s what you want. Probably good timing to pick up some allergy meds before spring hits.”

“Good thinking,” Seungmin agreed. “Alright, so—reconnaissance, a potential demigod extraction, hopefully no monster fighting, and some shopping. Not necessarily in that order. When do you want to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning?” Jiseok suggested. “Gives us some time to prepare.”

“Tomorrow morning, then,” Seungmin agreed. “Bright and early.”

It proved convenient that Jungsu and Gunil were busy singing to each other in the forest or whatever, because it meant Jiseok was able to walk right into the workshop in the Hephaestus cabin and appropriate the monster-alert watch. Maybe Gunil would notice, maybe he wouldn’t, but Jiseok planned to be out of camp before he could be confronted about it.

In his own cabin, Jiseok thoughtfully packed his backpack with everything they might need for their rule-breaking daytrip. A thermos of Nectar and a tin of Ambrosia, just in case; his wallet with some mortal-world cash; a small purse of golden drachmas, just in case; a spare pair of socks, just in case (you never knew); emergency snacks; reusable shopping bags; his lucky knife; his other lucky knife; and some other bits and pieces he thought could come in handy.

He had trouble getting to sleep that night, stuck replaying his conversation with Jooyeon over and over on a loop. He wondered if maybe he should have tried to message Jooyeon again, to let him know he was coming. But by the time Jiseok had finished his preparations, it was already late. Jooyeon was probably asleep.

Surely he’d be happy to see Jiseok… right?

Jiseok managed to get a few fitful hours of sleep, plagued by ominous, indistinct dreams of coal-feathered birds flapping through green-leafed branches. He woke right as the sun was starting to rise, nerves skittering back and forth in his gut the second he opened his eyes.

It looked like it would be a beautiful day, the fairest of the year so far. The pale sky was clear, the wind calm, the sun’s youthful golden rays stretching luxuriantly across the slowly stirring camp. Jiseok decided to take it as a positive sign from Apollo. But it was still cold, so he wore thermals and a fleece-lined jacket.

On the far side of the amphitheatre, right by the camp boundary and conveniently out of view of the Big House, the commons, and the dining pavilion, Jiseok found Seungmin already waiting for him, dressed in a stylish coat, scarf, and sunglasses as if he weren’t about to sprint for a hundred miles. Jiseok did note that he was wearing sensible running shoes—Nikes. Jiseok approved; Nike was a close friend of Athena’s.

“I’ve planned out our route,” Jiseok began without preamble. “There are two options, actually, but the first option has us going through Manhattan, and you would have to run three hundred and forty-six miles, which would take about half an hour, assuming you can maintain an average pace of about six hundred and fifty miles per hour. And we should probably stop somewhere for breakfast.”

Seungmin pursed his lips and adjusted his sunglasses with a single long finger. “What’s option two?”

“Well… it takes a bit longer. But I’m willing to admit it’s probably the better option. We go from here to the Orient Point ferry terminal, which is forty miles from camp, and if we leave within the next few minutes”—Jiseok pushed his sleeve up to check his watch. It was ten to seven—“we can catch the seven a.m. ferry to New London, which takes about an hour and twenty minutes. But!” He held up a finger. “They have a deli on board. So we can eat while in transit, and then it’s just a quick hundred-and-four miles from New London to Boston, which should only take about ten minutes, for a total approximate travel time of one hour and thirty-four minutes.”

“Thank you, Jiseok Maps,” Seungmin said. “Well, I can only run for about five minutes at a time without needing to stop, and I’ve never taken the ferry before, so…” He turned and offered his back to Jiseok.

Jiseok grinned. “Me neither! Should be fun.”

Seungmin didn’t even flinch as Jiseok hopped up onto his back, as if he were no heavier than the feathers off his father’s winged sandals.

“I’ve never actually done this with another person, but you’re probably gonna want to hold on tight,” Seungmin warned. “Like really tight.”

“Okay…” Jiseok said cautiously, wrapping his arms around Seungmin’s shoulders. “I have a boyfriend, you know.”

“Who will kill me if I let you fall and get hurt.”

“Touché.” Jiseok tightened his grip. “This good?”

“We’ll find out,” said Seungmin, and then, without any further warning, he took off like an arrow from a bow.

The strangled yelp didn’t get far from Jiseok’s mouth before they caught up with it, and he was pretty certain he’d left his stomach behind and they’d need to go back for it. His surroundings turned into a blur as air rushed in his ears and buffeted around him like something tangible, something living. Tears sprang to his eyes and he instinctively buried his face in the back of Seungmin’s neck, holding on for what certainly felt like his gods-damned life.

He usually kept good track of time, but he’d been so startled that he could only guess it had been about three or four minutes by the time Seungmin came to a stop. It simultaneously felt like the longest and shortest three or four minutes of his life.

“Doing okay back there?” Seungmin questioned, amusement evident in his voice.

Slowly, Jiseok lifted his head, his every joint feeling like rusted metal. His heart was hammering in his chest; Seungmin could probably feel it against his back. Jiseok’s arms had tightened around Seungmin to the point of almost strangling him, which he would have felt worse about if Seungmin weren’t being such a smartass.

But… this whole thing was Jiseok’s crackpot plan.

“Wonderful,” Jiseok said. “Let me down so I can buy the tickets.”

Seungmin let Jiseok down, then calmly caught him under the arms as his shaking legs buckled.

“Why don’t you sit down a minute, and I’ll go buy the tickets?” Seungmin suggested, smirking.

“Good idea. Yes. Let’s do that.”

They were able to board as soon as they had their tickets, by which point Jiseok had mostly recovered the use of his limbs. He was fascinated by how Seungmin seemed completely unrattled despite having done all the heavy lifting—literally. Sprinting at top speed for four minutes while piggybacking a friend, even if that friend was maybe a little on the lighter side, had to be a strenuous feat even for the strongest of demigods. Seungmin wasn’t even out of breath.

When they located the on-board deli and ordered some breakfast, Jiseok started to understand. He himself didn’t have much appetite after all that, so all he ordered was a hot chocolate and a cream cheese bagel, but Seungmin ordered enough for four people: a large latte with a pump of vanilla, a ham and cheese croissant, a chicken and cheese quesadilla, a serving of French fries, a honey mustard chicken wrap, and a slice of pound cake.

“In for a penny, in for a pound cake,” Jiseok muttered to himself as he counted out the cash to pay for it all.

“Running makes me hungry,” Seungmin said, and he had the decency to sound sheepish about it.

But it made sense. Running that fast surely burned a lot of calories.

Watching Seungmin eat everything was almost as impressive as watching him run. His mouth was too occupied to reply to any of Jiseok’s comments, but he aimed a sharply lifted eyebrow at him when Jiseok finished his bagel and started stealing the fries.

After eating, they went up on the deck. The wind was sharp and frigid, but it felt like nothing compared to what Jiseok had just experienced on Seungmin’s back. The sun glistened off the tourmaline sound like a hundred sparkling diamonds. Thanks to a light fog that had yet to burn off, there was no land visible in any direction—just a seemingly endless expanse of water. But soon enough, the red-brick buildings of New London came into view upon the horizon.

They handled the rest of the journey to Boston in two five-minute chunks, with Seungmin wolfing down some of Jiseok’s emergency snacks and a few sips of Nectar between sprints. By the time they reached Boston, he was out of breath, stumbling slightly as he came to a stop on the sidewalk next to a parking lot. On the other side of the street was a shallow overpass; ahead of them, an old apartment building.

Seungmin let Jiseok down and then staggered into one of the brick fenceposts separating the parking lot from the sidewalk. Jiseok at least kept his feet this time. He was kinda getting used to this mode of transportation. Children of Athena tended to be adaptable.

Jiseok looked around for a street sign as he swung his backpack off one shoulder and rummaged around in his snack stockpile. “This is close enough to where we need to be,” he said, offering a packet of Oreos to Seungmin. “Nice job, horsey.”

Seungmin took the Oreos and gave Jiseok a dour look as he ripped them open, tossing one into his mouth. “Have you thought about how we’re going to get back if we really do need to evacuate a new half-blood? I’m not carrying both of you.”

“Of course I’ve thought of that, what do you take me for? If it comes to that, I’ll let you know my plan,” said Jiseok, which was to say, Actually, it somehow slipped my mind, and that may end up being a problem, but hopefully I’ll come up with a solution before we need it.

“Right,” Seungmin said slowly. He looked a little perkier after a few Oreos.

They set off down the street at a normal walking pace. Jiseok knew the vague area Jooyeon lived in, since he’d mentioned the neighbourhood and the name of his high school and described the area a little bit, and what Jiseok was seeing here—the brick buildings, the parking lots, the construction zones—seemed to match those descriptions. But even with a perfect memory, Jiseok wasn’t psychic; he didn’t know Jooyeon’s exact address, had never thought to ask for it because he’d never imagined a situation like this.

“So, you know where we’re going and what we’re doing, right?” Seungmin asked, balling up the empty Oreo packet in his fist and shoving his fist into the pocket of his coat.

“Of course I do,” said Jiseok. “Did you agree to come just so you could criticise me the whole time?”

“Partly,” Seungmin admitted. “But mostly because I haven’t left camp in months and was starting to feel stir-crazy.” He looked around at the brick buildings and parking lots and construction zones. “Call me crazy-crazy, but I missed the mortal world. Missed civilisation, you know? Didn’t you?”

Jiseok genuinely hadn’t thought about it. His main thoughts had been Jooyeon might be in danger and I miss Jooyeon, which, thinking about it now, seemed a little pathetic.

He remembered what Jooyeon had said. "After being away from camp for a while, it starts to feel like… like it was all just a dream.”

Maybe for Jiseok, since he’d been at Camp Half-Blood for so long with nowhere else to go, it was the mortal world that had begun to feel like the dream—and not a very good one. He’d been too distracted to think about it before, but now, walking around… it felt sort of strange and terrifying to be away from camp’s protection. A hundred miles away from the only life he’d known for the past four years—it wasn’t that far, but it was far enough to feel vulnerable.

He pushed the feeling down and forced himself to focus.

When they reached a hotpot restaurant at a major intersection, Jiseok was about ready to admit that he didn’t know where he was going and their best bet was to find a quiet place to Iris-message Jooyeon (who probably wasn’t even awake yet).

“Oh, I could so go for hotpot right now,” Seungmin sighed wistfully, staring up at the restaurant.

Then, from behind them:

“Jiseok? Seungmin?”

Jiseok whipped around, heart leaping into his throat—and there, standing on the street several paces behind him, in a padded coat with a guitar case slung over one shoulder, was Jooyeon. He looked stunned.

“Jooyeon!”

Children of Athena could neither fly nor run at the speed of sound, like some demigods, but just then, Jiseok felt like he did both: he crossed the distance to Jooyeon in the blink of an eye, colliding with him in a fierce hug that elicited a breathless “Oof!” from the son of Apollo. But having the air knocked out of him didn’t stop Jooyeon from hugging Jiseok as tightly as Jiseok was hugging him.

“How?” Jooyeon gasped out. “Why?”

“I missed you,” was all Jiseok could find it in himself to say. He buried his face in the crook of Jooyeon’s neck, embarrassed by the heat prickling behind his eyes.

“I missed you, too,” Jooyeon returned, holding Jiseok a little tighter for a moment. His arms were so lanky they almost looped all the way around Jiseok and back onto himself. “But seriously, how and why are you here?”

“How did you find us?” Seungmin asked from behind Jiseok. “Hi, by the way.”

“Hi, Seungmin,” said Jooyeon. “I woke up and had this feeling like I should go for a walk, even though I hate walking. Then I spotted you guys. Couldn’t believe my eyes!”

Reluctantly, Jiseok pulled away from Jooyeon. “Precognition,” he laughed.

“Yeah… Thanks, Dad,” Jooyeon said, with a brief glance up at the sky as he settled an arm over Jiseok’s shoulders. “So? How and why?”

Jiseok jerked a thumb at Seungmin. “I convinced him to piggyback me at ninety percent the speed of sound.”

“I was promised shopping,” Seungmin added.

“Chiron’s busy with something in Florida, and Mr D was refusing to do anything, and I’m worried about this potential demigod situation you’ve got going on, so, I… wanted to check it out for myself,” Jiseok continued.

To Jiseok’s surprise, Jooyeon burst out laughing.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I’m stuck on the mental image of you being piggybacked at the speed of sound. That sounds terrifying.”

“I didn’t love it,” Jiseok admitted. “But it worked! Now we’re here!”

Jooyeon grinned back at him, his golden hair glowing in the morning sunlight, and for a moment, Jiseok was just so happy to be reunited that he forgot about everything else.

Then the moment was ruined by a low, rumbling gurgle.

They turned towards Seungmin, who looked embarrassed.

“Running makes me hungry,” he said meekly.

Jooyeon led them to a local café (it wasn’t even nine in the morning, so the hotpot place wasn’t open yet), where Seungmin once again ordered half the menu while Jiseok and Jooyeon shared a slice of Boston cream pie. Jiseok, however, was more preoccupied with staring at Jooyeon than eating, making a mental catalogue of all the things that had changed since they’d parted ways at the end of the summer, things that couldn’t be seen through an Iris-message.

Jooyeon really had grown taller, more than Jiseok had. His jawline was sharper, his Adam’s apple more prominent. He was slowly becoming a little less boy and a little more man, which felt a bit unfair, since Jiseok, several months older, was acutely aware that he still looked more boyish than mannish. Surely his growth spurt would kick in soon and Jooyeon would be the one looking up when they spoke. Surely.

Then there was the hair. Jiseok had rolled his eyes when Jooyeon had mentioned wanting to bleach it, because wasn’t it kind of a cliché for a child of the sun god to have sunny blond hair? But maybe it was precisely because of that cliché that Jooyeon suited it so well, even with his dark roots peeking through.

“Like what you see?” Jooyeon asked with an amiable wink.

Jiseok felt his face heat up. “I hope you haven’t gotten lazy with your bow, or I’m going to destroy you once you get back to camp.”

Jooyeon laughed. “You wish.” He pushed the plate of pie closer to Jiseok. “Eat more, I’ll feel bad if I finish most of it.”

“It’s fine, I already had breakfast on the ferry,” said Jiseok. He glanced meaningfully up at Seungmin, who was shovelling Eggs Benedict into his mouth as if it were coal and he a steam train. “Then again, so did he.”

Seungmin swallowed audibly and frowned at Jiseok. “And then you got to have a nice piggyback ride halfway across the state. You’re welcome.”

This got another laugh out of Jooyeon. “So, anyway… what exactly is the plan?”

Both he and Seungmin were now staring at Jiseok, Jooyeon questioningly and Seungmin pointedly.

Jiseok cleared his throat. “Well, um, that depends,” he said. He turned to Jooyeon. “This potential demigod… you said his name is Hyeongjun, and you think he’s a son of Demeter, mainly due to a tree outside your school that’s sprouting unseasonably. What else do you know about him?”

Jooyeon hummed, twirling his fork between his fingers. “He works at a garden centre on weekends—that was the other thing that made me think Demeter, but I forgot to mention it. I kinda discovered it by accident. There’s an archery range up in Cambridge that I go to sometimes, and on my way home last week, I randomly felt like getting off a stop early. I found the garden centre, and Hyeongjun working there. I had to pretend like it was a weird coincidence. Well, it was a weird coincidence, but… there’s not really any such thing as a coincidence for a son of Apollo, huh?”

“Sounds like fatherly guidance again,” Jiseok agreed. “Weekends, you say. So he’ll be there today?”

“I guess.”

“That’s our plan, then!” Jiseok said with a decisive nod. “We’ll go talk to him.”

“And say what?” asked Seungmin.

“Well, you know… ask if he’s ever experienced anything weird, or if he feels a particular affinity with plants, or if he’s ever been attacked by monsters. If he’s really a demigod, there has to be something. How many of us manage to live perfectly normal lives for fourteen years without noticing anything weird?”

“Not many,” said Jooyeon. “If any. But speaking of monsters, I thought you were worried about two of us in one place attracting monsters—now there are three, possibly four of us.”

“That’s why I have this,” Jiseok said, pulling his left sleeve down to reveal three watches. One was just a regular watch that told the time, a second showed the position of the planets in the solar system (a gift from Athena for Jiseok’s thirteenth birthday), and the third was Gunil’s prototype monster-alert watch. Its face resembled a compass, except the needle spun at a pace a little faster than the second hand on his regular watch. “If there are any monsters within a hundred yards, this’ll spin so fast that it emits a sound like a kettle boiling. Gunil’s latest invention—pretty cool, right?”

Jooyeon reached out and tapped the tempered glass protecting the Celestial Bronze setting. “Huh. Does it work?”

“Hopefully we won’t have to find out,” Seungmin said around a mouthful of bacon.

The garden centre was just a short bus ride away. It was a standard red-brick building attached to a large greenhouse. The sun’s glare off the glass largely obscured what was beyond, but Jiseok could see the outlines of healthy green fronds and branches stretching towards the ceiling. It was like a different world compared to the winter-bare trees lining the street.

“This is it,” said Jooyeon.

Jiseok came to a halt when they drew close enough to read the sign over the garden centre’s entrance:

The Dryad’s Planting Center: For All Your Gardening Needs!

“Dryads,” Jiseok said. “As in wood nymphs.”

Jooyeon frowned. “I knew that seemed familiar.”

Seungmin scoffed. “Two summers at camp, and you don’t know what a dryad is?”

“I know what a dryad is,” Jooyeon insisted. “I just didn’t know that was how it was spelled.”

“How did you think it was spelled?”

“I don’t know!”

“Regardless of how anything is spelled, there’s definitely something Greek going on,” said Jiseok. “And I’d say the chances of your new friend being a demigod just went up by, like, a lot. Dryads love children of Demeter.”

“And they’re usually friendly, so I doubt there’s anything sinister going on,” added Seungmin.

“Right,” said Jooyeon. “When I went in there before, everything seemed normal. Just a gardening centre. But I didn’t go in the greenhouse… I made up some excuse about needing a water mister for my mom’s crocuses and left.”

“If there are dryads, they’ll be in the greenhouse,” said Jiseok. “Mortals wouldn’t notice them because of the Mist, but we know what to look for.”

He was starting to feel more confident in this errand. It seemed now like it would be a very simple thing, to go chat with some dryads and ask Hyeongjun to come to Camp Half-Blood to train his demigod abilities so he wouldn’t get eaten by monsters.

Then, from right behind him, Jiseok heard the call of a crow, loud and shrill, echoing off the brick and asphalt. A cold, prickly feeling shot down the back of his neck. He spun around to see not just one crow, but two, leering down at him from atop a streetlight.

His heart rate quickened as a memory surged to the front of his mind. Crows perched on a streetlight, a single call echoing in his ears as he arrived home with his mother. He’d been eight years, seven months, and fifteen days old. It had been a hot day. Even as a mortal, his mother had sensed something amiss, clutching his hand tighter and bundling him inside.

“What’s wrong?” Jiseok had asked, innocent.

“You need to hide,” she’d told him.

“—seok? Jiseok?”

Jiseok jumped, jolted out of the recollection by a hand on his shoulder. As if equally startled, the two crows took flight, gliding away on ink-black wings.

“What’s wrong?” Jooyeon asked, reminding Jiseok rather nauseatingly of the same question his eight-year-old self had asked.

He took a deep breath, shoving the memory down. Crows were just crows. They were everywhere.

“Sorry,” he muttered. His throat was uncomfortably dry. “Reminded me of something unpleasant.”

Frowning, Jooyeon wrapped a comforting arm around Jiseok’s shoulders. Jiseok leaned into him, too shaken to feel self-conscious.

“Let’s just hurry up and go get our garden on,” said Seungmin, watching Jiseok with almost as much concern as Jooyeon. It did make Jiseok feel a little sheepish; it wasn’t like there was anything to actually worry about. Memories couldn’t hurt him.

“Yeah,” said Jiseok. “Let’s go.”

But he couldn’t shake the sudden, horrible feeling that this was a terrible idea.

Jiseok had never been in a garden centre before, but The Dryad’s Planting Center looked no different to how he would have imagined one to look. The main shop floor sported aisles of tall shelves carrying essential gardening supplies such as pots and potting mix, watering cans and misters, and creepy garden gnomes. To the left, behind a display of indoor succulents, was an archway leading into the greenhouse. A portal into a verdant world.

The store was eerily empty, although maybe that had something to do with the hour, since it was still morning. The front counter was unattended, and no one came running at the sound of the buzzer on the front door as the three of them filed in.

“Is anyone even here?” Seungmin wondered.

“In the greenhouse, I guess,” said Jooyeon, leading the way.

It was the greenest greenhouse Jiseok had ever been in—and he could say so with certainty. A paved path split into two between plots of jungle-thick greenery. Potted bushes and shrubs flourished in rows, vines wove across trellises, and flowers bloomed in summer hues despite the ongoing winter. The sun twinkled benevolently through the glass ceiling, warming the space, and resplendent branches reached so high towards it that Jiseok had to imagine that they weren’t for sale; it would be impossible to get them out of here.

“Hello?” Jooyeon called out. “Hyeongjun?”

A small, green face popped out from behind a pot, framed by vibrantly red hair scattered with tufts of white blossoms.

“Half-halfs!” they gasped, then disappeared again with a pattering of feet.

“Was that a baby dryad?” Seungmin wondered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

“Plenty of young plants in a plant centre, I guess,” said Jiseok.

A second later, purposeful footsteps sounded through the greenhouse and a boy emerged from between a massive monstera and some kind of fern. He had dark, curly hair, tan skin, and an overall lanky appearance—not unlike Jooyeon, although less sinewy. Aside from the dirt on his jeans and the leaves in his hair, if Jiseok had to guess who this kid’s godly parent might be based on appearance, he might have said Hades, not Demeter.

But what was rather Demeter-esque about this boy was that he had several green-skinned dryad children clinging to his legs and swinging off his arms.

“Jooyeon,” the boy—Hyeongjun—said, surprised. “Um… was there a problem with the mister I sold you?” His eyes flicked warily to Jiseok and Seungmin.

“Junnie,” whispered one of the little dryads, “they’re like you! They’re special!”

The corners of Hyeongjun’s mouth tightened a little, but he gave no other sign that he’d even heard the young dryad. Jiseok realised he was probably used to pretending they weren’t there, pretending to be normal.

Jiseok cleared his throat. “They’re right,” he said. “We are like you.”

Hyeongjun blinked several times, and then his eyes widened almost comically. “You—you can see them?” He turned to Jooyeon. “You too?”

Jooyeon nodded. “I’ve, uh, been meaning to ask, but… how much do you know about Greek myths?”

Jiseok thought Hyeongjun took the revelation fairly well, but that probably had something to do with the baby dryads running around the greenhouse, swinging on vines and making flower crowns as the four of them sat on wooden benches set across from each other at the back of the greenhouse—Jiseok, Jooyeon, and Seungmin crowded onto one bench, facing Hyeongjun on the other.

“Demigods,” Hyeongjun mused. “I guess that’s what the little ones mean when they call me a half-half. I just thought they meant, uh…”

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound flattering,” said Seungmin. “But we often get called half-bloods—our camp is called Camp Half-Blood, even.”

Hyeongjun raised an eyebrow at Jooyeon. “Your summer camp?” His eyes slid over to Jiseok. “And… your boyfriend from summer camp? Little guy with big eyes, you said.”

Jiseok turned his “big eyes” onto Jooyeon as Seungmin smothered a laugh into his fist. “Little guy, huh?”

Jooyeon chuckled awkwardly, patting Jiseok’s shoulder and avoiding his gaze. “Yep, my little guy.”

Sighing, Jiseok turned back to Hyeongjun. “You’ve always known you were different, haven’t you?” He indicated the young dryads. “I mean, I could tell you’re used to pretending you don’t see them. Seeing things others don’t has gotten you in trouble before, hasn’t it?”

Hyeongjun’s expression darkened. “If by trouble, you mean kicked out of schools and group homes, yeah.”

Jiseok knew exactly how that felt. “You don’t know your parents at all?”

He shook his head. “My father died in a tractor accident when I was three, and my mother… I have no idea who she was or what happened to her. If what you’re telling me is true, I guess that’s because she’s a goddess, huh?”

“That’s usually how it goes,” Jiseok confirmed. “So you were raised in foster care?” He felt a twinge of sympathy for Hyeongjun. He himself had only been able to endure three years in the system before he’d decided to run away for good—and fortunately ended up at Camp Half-Blood.

“Mostly, yeah… until a few years ago, when this woman claiming to be my grandmother showed up. She asked me to live with her and help her run her garden centre. I’m not sure I completely believe she is my grandmother, but living with her has been better than…”

“Better than the system,” Jiseok said quietly, earning a small nod from Hyeongjun.

“So this is your grandmother’s garden centre,” said Jooyeon. “But… you only started school this semester.”

“Ah, well—it’s a chain,” Hyeongjun explained. “We move to a city, open a new Dryad’s Planting Centre, and raise a new batch of little ones. Once they get old enough to run the shop themselves, we move on to the next city.” He scuffed his heel against the dusty pavers. “I don’t mind. I’m not very good at making friends, so it’s not like I ever have anyone to leave behind.”

“Wait, so your grandmother sees the dryads too?” asked Seungmin.

Hyeongjun nodded. “I guess I thought maybe it was a hereditary thing? I don’t know much about her, to be honest. There’s always food at home, but she’s hardly ever there.” He nervously rubbed his thumb along the back of his opposite wrist. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I guess it’s just because… because I believe you. About this half-blood stuff.”

Hyeongjun’s story struck Jiseok as incredibly odd. It wasn’t unusual for demigods to end up in the foster system, but if a supposed long-lost relative appeared out of nowhere to save them, it tended to bode ill—often a monster in disguise, or an escapee from Tartarus looking to manipulate a demigod against Olympus.

But maybe it explained why Hyeongjun had stayed undetected past the age of thirteen, if this so-called grandmother—whoever she really was, and Jiseok had no doubt she was someone consequential—was hiding him, never letting him stay in one city for too long. But to what end?

Jiseok exchanged a look with Jooyeon, who, from the grim expression on his face, seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Then a voice rang out from the front of the shop:

“Hyeongjun, dear?”

And then a woman appeared out of the greenery. She looked about sixty or so, possessing the kind of mature, dignified beauty of a tenured actress, wrapped in a brown peacoat with her dark hair pinned in an effortless bundle atop her head.

“Grandmother,” Hyeongjun exclaimed, leaping up from his seat.

Suspicion stirred ever stronger in Jiseok’s gut. This was Hyeongjun’s grandmother? There was something about her that bothered Jiseok. She couldn’t possibly be a monster, not with the way the young dryads all exclaimed in joy and gathered around her to receive headpats. But the way she had appeared just as they were talking about her…

The woman looked at Seungmin, then Jooyeon, then Jiseok in turn, with an amiable smile and sharp gold-brown eyes that sent a shiver down Jiseok’s spine. “Are these your friends from school?”

“Sort of,” Hyeongjun said, looking at his feet.

“That’s wonderful, dear. But I’m afraid you’ll have to catch up with them later. I need your help stocking a new delivery of fertiliser.”

Hyeongjun nodded, then glanced up at the other demigods. “I’ll see you guys later.” He looked directly at Jiseok. “If you’re visiting Boston for the first time, Pablo’s Pizza is a good place to get lunch.”

Jiseok smiled. He liked this kid. “Thanks. We’ll check it out.”

They had very little choice but to leave after that.

“Okay, I hate to say it, but Jiseok’s instincts about this whole thing were right—something weird is going on here,” said Seungmin as they walked back towards the bus stop. “I don’t think that woman is mortal. I don’t think she’s a monster, though. Maybe a goddess?”

“Did you notice?” asked Jiseok. “She didn’t bother to pretend like the dryads weren’t there. She was interacting with them in front of us. She knew we could see them.”

“She knew we’re half-bloods,” said Jooyeon, “and that’s probably why she kicked us out.” He turned to look back at the sign over the garden centre. The Dryad’s Planting Center. “I don’t feel right leaving Hyeongjun with her.”

“If he’s been living with her for years already, I doubt he’s in any immediate danger,” Jiseok reasoned. “And he told us where to meet him, so I guess he thinks he can get away easily enough.”

Jooyeon and Seungmin stared at him.

“I don’t have a perfect memory like you do, but I’m sure I would remember him saying something like that,” said Jooyeon. Seungmin nodded in agreement.

“‘Pablo’s Pizza is a good place to get lunch’,” Jiseok quoted.

Realisation dawned across both of their faces in unison.

It was late morning, not really lunch time yet, meaning they had some time to kill before hopefully reconvening with Hyeongjun. Since Seungmin had been promised shopping, Jooyeon took them to the nearest mall, where they set Seungmin loose to find the new boots he wanted. Jiseok dragged Jooyeon to the pharmacy to stock up on Claritin, and then they found an uncomfortable concrete bench by the parking lot and bathed in the wintry sunshine while waiting for Seungmin.

Jiseok realised it was the first time he’d been alone with Jooyeon since August. Maybe not alone alone, since they were in public, but it was hard to find places to be alone alone at camp during the summer, too.

“I used to think Athena kids were less impulsive than other demigods,” Jooyeon mused as they sat down. “And then I got to know you. I think you’d have ADHD even if you weren’t a demigod.”

“Thanks,” Jiseok said drily.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong—impulsive decision or not, I’m glad you’re here.” He reached down to lace his fingers through Jiseok’s, squeezing his palm. “Really glad. In more ways than one.”

Jiseok refused to look at him; he had no interest in turning into a blushing mess in public. But he gave Jooyeon’s hand a returning squeeze.

“Me, too,” he said quietly. “Even if I’m gonna be in trouble once we get back to camp.” He looked out across the parking lot spread before them. A family had just parked near the entrance: the dad was struggling to get a stroller out of the trunk while the mom crouched by the back door, trying to convince her toddler to put their shoes on—with little success, judging by the tiny sneaker that went flying up onto the roof of the car.

“I told Seungmin I had a plan for getting us all back to camp if Hyeongjun turned out to be a demigod,” Jiseok continued. “But I was lying through my teeth. It’s not like I expect him to piggyback us both.”

Jooyeon barked a laugh. “I would love to see him try, though.”

Jiseok turned to him, smiling. The sun glistened on Jooyeon’s golden hair and golden skin, as if he himself were wrought of sunlight. Jiseok really wanted to kiss him, but he was too self-conscious about being out in the open.

“I have an idea,” Jooyeon said, eyes sparkling. “Seungmin can piggyback Hyeongjun to camp, and you”—he pulled Jiseok’s hand towards himself—“can stay here with me for the rest of the semester. My mom can drive us back to camp in June.”

It was probably just a joke, but it caused a painful twinge in Jiseok’s chest. It reminded him that, at the end of all this, Jiseok did have to go back to camp, and Jooyeon had to stay here, and they wouldn’t be together again until June. June! A full one hundred and seven days from now. It was almost unbearable to think about.

But Jiseok staying here just wasn’t practical. It wasn’t realistic. Jiseok didn’t think he was capable of living amongst mortals anymore, let alone going to school, and sitting in class, and… hanging out with Jooyeon on weekends… and taking out new astronomy books from the library… and visiting the MIT Museum, or the Museum of Science, or the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory whenever he wanted…

He’d never thought about it before, but now that he was thinking about it, it felt like he was starving and there was a piece of bread being dangled over his head, just out of reach.

In a way, he was starving. Not physically, but intellectually, because as much as he loved Camp Half-Blood, he was so bored there during the school year. There were rarely more than ten of them rattling around on the camp’s grounds. Training by himself was only so fun for so long, especially in the cold weather, and Jiseok had already read every book and scroll in the Athena cabin, in the Big House, and even in the other cabins.

Maybe that was what made waiting for Jooyeon even more painful: Jiseok had little to keep him occupied except his memories.

Today was the most present Jiseok had felt since August.

“Great plan,” he tried to joke, but his voice came out strained.

Jooyeon’s face fell. “What’s wrong? Did I remind you of something bad?”

Jiseok shook his head. “No,” he said. “Just… I wish I really could stay, Jooyeon. You have no idea how much I want to.”

“Why can’t you?” Jooyeon implored. “My mom would love to have you, I know it. I know multiple demigods in one place is more likely to attract monsters, but we would have each other’s backs, right? Nothing can touch us when we’re together.”

But at the mention of Jooyeon’s mother, a memory did arise in Jiseok’s mind—of two crows sitting atop a streetlight. Of four wooden walls and dusty, hanging coats pressing in on him, the muffled sounds of squawking and screaming, squawking and screaming, squawking and screaming, and then silence. The creak of hinges. The glisten of fresh, white bone, stripped clean.

He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head violently.

“It’s not a good idea,” he said weakly.

“Hey…” Jooyeon’s hand went to his shoulder.

Even though Jiseok didn’t like feeling vulnerable, he let Jooyeon pull him into a hug. He melted into him, pressing his face into his bony shoulder and breathing in his scent of sun-warmed laurel.

Jiseok had really, really, really missed him.

They jolted away from each other at the clearing of a throat. Seungmin was standing in front of them, bags of shopping dangling from both hands.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic, “but we should probably get to this pizza place.”

Thankfully, Jooyeon knew where Pablo’s Pizza was, and it wasn’t far from the mall. It was a popular spot for kids from his school, he said. Fortunately, it wasn’t super busy, and they were able to grab a table for four by the front window. While they were waiting, they ordered pizza—a large pepperoni, since it was the only one Jooyeon would eat, and a Margherita, since that was what Seungmin wanted.

They didn’t even notice Hyeongjun arrive, shortly after the pizza. He snuck in with his face hidden in an oversized black hoodie and slid into the empty seat next to Seungmin.

“I knew you’d get it,” he said as he pulled his hood down, audibly relieved.

Jiseok smiled at him. “Of course. Help yourself, by the way.”

Hyeongjun muttered his thanks and took a piece of Margherita.

“So you were able to get away okay?” Seungmin asked.

“Oh, yeah. It’s not like Grandmother keeps me locked up or anything. I told her I wanted to go for a walk and she told me not to stay out too late. But…”

“But?” Jiseok prompted. “You suspect she knows what you’re really doing.”

Hyeongjun nodded. “Who is she really?”

Jiseok exchanged looks with the other two.

“We’re not sure,” he said uneasily. “She’s probably a goddess. Gods are good at disguising themselves. The better question is what she wants with you. You said you move around to different garden centres and… raise dryads?”

Hyeongjun nodded. “I’m good with plants,” he said. “Always have been. I guess that’s probably a child-of-a-god thing, right?”

“Demeter,” Jooyeon said through a mouthful of pepperoni. He swallowed loudly. “She’s the goddess of agriculture and food and stuff. Her demigod kids all have plant powers, so…”

“Here.” Seungmin plucked a shrivelled basil leaf off the Margherita and offered it to Hyeongjun. “I bet if you concentrate, you can bring this back to life.”

Hyeongjun took the leaf, frowning at it. It was dull and dry from the oven. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

Immediately, the colour came back into the leaf. It shivered as it rehydrated, sprouting a twin from the other side of its stem, which bloomed into another pair of young leaves, until Hyeongjun was holding a sprig of fresh basil with white, hair-like roots, ready for planting.

As the others expressed awe, a flash of black in the corner of Jiseok’s eye caught his attention. His head snapped towards the window, blood going cold before he even processed what he was seeing.

Two crows, side by side, sitting atop a streetlight on the other side of the road. They seemed to be staring at Jiseok.

They’re just crows, he told himself, feeling his heart speed up, feeling the memory of hands shoving him into the closet, hearing the resonant clunk of the doors being slammed shut behind him.

He dragged his eyes away and back to his friends, forcing himself to tune back into the conversation.

“I’ve never tried to do it consciously,” Hyeongjun was saying. “It just sort of— Whoa, are you okay? You’ve gone white.” He was looking at Jiseok.

The other two turned to him in concern. Jooyeon put a hand on his back, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong before he noticed what Jiseok had seen outside. He pursed his lips for a moment. “He’s okay,” he said, running a soothing hand up and down Jiseok’s spine.

This, Jiseok thought, was why he couldn’t possibly live outside of camp. He needed to learn how to control his memories better before he could even consider it.

He was so caught up in his self-annoyance that he neither paid attention to the conversation nor to the further flashes of black in the corner of his eye. He refused to look. Crows were just crows. Crows were just crows.

When he finally did lose the battle against himself and glance nervously out the window again, his mouth went dry.

The two crows on the streetlight were still there—and a few dozen others had joined them, perched on window-boxes and traffic lights and street signs, all of them staring directly through the front window of Pablo’s Pizza at the four half-bloods.

Their beaks glinted bronze. The phantom scent of blood filled Jiseok’s nostrils.

“W-we need to get out of here,” he said, voice weak and reedy.

“Jiseok? What’s—? Oh, holy Helios,” said Jooyeon as he turned to Jiseok and saw what he was seeing through the window. “That is a murder of crows.”

“Crows?” crowed Hyeongjun. “Are crows bad? Do they hate demigods or something?”

“I don’t think those are actually crows,” Seungmin said nervously. “Not normal ones, at least.”

“They’re not,” Jiseok confirmed. “But they will murder us. We need to get out of here!”

They leapt from their seats. Obviously, they couldn’t go out the front, or they’d be bird food within seconds. Jiseok led the way across the restaurant floor, shoving through into the kitchen and ignoring the cry of “Hey! You kids can’t be back here!” as he cast around desperately through the pizza-oven smoke and employees rolling dough for another exit.

There, at the back of the kitchen—a fire exit.

“There!” he said, pointing for the benefit of his friends.

The staff were too bewildered to stop them as they raced for the door. Jooyeon had freed his bow and quiver from his guitar case and Jiseok was slinging his backpack off one shoulder to retrieve his knives, tossing one to Seungmin and clipping the other’s sheath onto his belt.

“Stay close,” he said to Hyeongjun as he pushed through the fire exit.

As Jiseok had expected, there were a couple of crows waiting for them in the alley outside, dive-bombing them with ear-piercing screeches the second they emerged.

Jooyeon appeared at Jiseok’s side. He notched and flew two perfectly aimed arrows within less than a second. The birds exploded into dust, the arrows clattering to the concrete.

Jiseok tasted bile in the back of his throat. He felt unbalanced, his head too heavy for his body. He could still smell blood, and old dusty coats, and could see the gleam of stripped bone in his mind’s eye. He felt out of breath already.

“Why are we being attacked by crows?” Hyeongjun demanded as Jooyeon retrieved his arrows.

“They’re not crows,” Jiseok said shakily. “They’re Stymphalian Birds. Flesh-eating birds with Celestial Bronze beaks.”

“And they will strip us to our skeletons if we don’t get out of here,” Seungmin added grimly.

Jooyeon locked eyes with Jiseok, brow pinched with concern. He reached over and grabbed his hand. “We need to run. Come on!”

They burst out of the alleyway to find several more birds waiting. Jooyeon was able to dispatch three before they could reach them. Another slipped past his arrows and shot straight for Jiseok’s face, metal beak glinting in the sunlight like the tip of a harpoon.

A scream echoed in Jiseok’s ears. He flinched and struggled to free his knife from its sheath.

Seungmin shouldered him to the ground and slashed the bird into dust.

“Th-thanks,” Jiseok stuttered, scrambling to his feet. Jooyeon leapt forward to steady him.

“I don’t know what kind of history you’ve got with these birds, but you have got to get out of your head before you get yourself killed,” Seungmin said sharply. “You’re better than this, Jiseok.”

It annoyed Jiseok that he was right. Another wave of birds was already coming towards them, appearing over the top of the buildings—they’d realised where their prey had escaped to and were taking pursuit.

“Keep running!” Jooyeon roared, pushing Jiseok ahead of him and firing a volley of arrows over his shoulder.

They pelted down the street, pushing through crowds of mortals enjoying their sunny Sunday, deflecting feather projectiles with blades and arrows. Whatever the mortals saw—four teenagers running from a flock of crows?—Jiseok didn’t know and, right now, didn’t really care.

“There!” he yelled, pointing across the intersection ahead of them, where there was a slightly sad-looking park ringed with yet-naked trees. But it would give them better cover; they were too out in the open in the streets.

They lucked out and were able to sprint straight into the park without stopping for traffic lights—or without having to dodge cars and buses. Just as the terrain underfoot turned from concrete to dry, dead grass, Jooyeon let out a cry. Jiseok whipped around, panic sparking, to see an ink-black feather buried in Jooyeon’s left shoulder and his bow falling from his hand.

“Jooyeon!” Jiseok cried, lunging towards him to grab the bow before it hit the ground. He snatched an arrow from the quiver on Jooyeon’s back and turned to shoot the bird that was a nanosecond away from driving its beak into his head. He allowed himself a tiny moment to be amazed that he could shoot so well when his hands were shaking this badly. Demigod instincts—they did come in handy in the heat of battle.

Jiseok hadn’t even noticed that he’d dropped his knife, but when he looked up, Hyeongjun had grabbed it and was helping Seungmin fend off another bird. Jiseok turned back to Jooyeon in time to see him wrench the feather out of his shoulder with a pained grunt and a spurt of blood.

“Son of a cyclops,” he swore. “That hurts!”

Jiseok was just glad he was okay. His pulse was racing, less from adrenaline and more from an odd mix of fear and relief. But this wasn’t over yet.

He heard Seungmin yell and whipped around to see him on the ground with a feather projectile embedded in his thigh. Two more birds were bearing down on him and Hyeongjun.

“Here!” Jooyeon pressed two arrows into Jiseok’s hand.

Jiseok aimed and fired twice in quick succession, the way Jooyeon had taught him last summer. His first arrow found its mark and the bird exploded into dust. The second grazed the crow’s wing, causing it to screech and spiral in the air, but it wasn’t enough to kill it.

It quickly corrected and flew straight for Hyeongjun as he helped Seungmin move to safety behind a large tree.

What happened next defied everything Jiseok thought he knew. His mother was the goddess of battle strategy, and as such, he could, within seconds, calculate the possible outcomes of any given move in battle based on the information available to him.

That is to say: if he was missing information, there were outcomes he couldn’t calculate.

Quicker than anyone could react—quicker than Seungmin could throw his knife, or Jooyeon could hand Jiseok another arrow, or even throw one himself—the bird was upon Hyeongjun, who let out a terrified cry and raised his arms over his face to defend himself. As he did, the midday shadow cast by the trees darkened, becoming as void-black as the Stymphalian Bird’s feathers.

And then the shadow rose up in front of Hyeongjun like a ghostly wall, and the bird slammed into it with a sickening crack. It seemed to hover in midair for a moment, like a cartoon, before flopping to the ground, dazed, as the shadow-shield faded.

Seungmin quickly finished it off with his knife.

“What was that?” Jooyeon gasped. Hyeongjun looked like he was wondering the same thing, staring at his hands with jaw agape.

But there was no time to ponder it—over the nearby rooftops, another murderous murder of murder-crows was headed their way.

“Why are there so many of them?” Seungmin lamented, clutching the wound in his leg as he struggled to his feet.

Jiseok swallowed, hard. This wasn’t good. “Keep running.”

They tried, but they were slowed by the wound in Seungmin’s leg, even with Hyeongjun pulling him along. Jiseok used Jooyeon’s last few arrows for covering fire while Jooyeon sang a hasty, out-of-breath rendition of Baby Shark (“It was just the first song I could think of!” he would later insist) to heal his shoulder and Seungmin’s leg.

Then they really ran.

It took them too long to notice that something was strange. As they ran, the trees grew thicker around them, their trunks tangled with vines, the air pungent with the smell of mulch.

Jiseok didn’t see the thick root sticking up through the ground. It caught his foot and he went flying, throwing his hands up and feeling the undergrowth scrape the skin off his palms and forearms as he crash-landed.

“Jiseok!” Jooyeon was at his side instantly, helping him up. “Geez, you’re a klutz sometimes.”

“I’m okay,” Jiseok groaned, examining his bloodied, dirtied palms. Right now they just felt hot rather than sore. He looked around, gasping for breath. “Where… are we?”

One thing was certain: they weren’t in the park anymore. The trees there had been winter-barren; here, the canopy was too thick to see through. Wildflowers fought their way up through the undergrowth in clumps, ferns were nestled around lichen-draped tree trunks, and the thorns of wild blackberry bushes glinted in the spaces between.

It was completely quiet but for the gasping of their breath. No crow-calls. No sharp fwees of feather projectiles whizzing past their ears. Not even the hum of traffic.

“There’s no way we lost them that easily,” said Jiseok, “also, there’s no way there’s a random forest in the middle of Boston.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Seungmin, inspecting the hole in his pant leg from where the feather had stuck him. “I don’t suppose any of you want to bet against me if I say there’s probably something godly going on.”

“I, for one, am grateful,” said Jooyeon. He turned to Hyeongjun. “What was that back there? You, like, controlled the shadow? I didn’t know a son of Demeter could do that.”

A son of Demeter probably couldn’t, Jiseok thought. Now that he had the time to think about it, the pieces were starting to come together in his head, and the picture they painted was… troubling.

“It’s never happened before,” Hyeongjun said, sounding spooked. “I just… I guess I was praying for something to save me, and it did.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“Lucky thing,” said Seungmin. He looked up at the trees, then back the way they came, then forward the way they’d been headed before Jiseok had face-planted into the ground. “So… do we just keep going?”

Jooyeon shrugged. “Nothing else we can do.” He turned to Jiseok, eyes questioning. “You okay?”

Jiseok nodded. “Shaken, stirred, and a little scratched up, but… alive.”

“Most important thing.” Gently, he took Jiseok’s wrists and started to sing, voice soft and sweet as it floated up through the trees.

“Summer has come and passed… The innocent can never last… Wake me up when September ends…”

The skin on Jiseok’s forearms knitted itself together, leaving it smooth and unmarred beneath the smears of dirt and the three watch straps on his left wrist.

To even Jiseok’s surprise, a tear dripped down his cheek. He instinctively slapped it away, then turned his arm over to examine his watches. He flicked the monster-alert watch with his other hand.

“Lot of good this did,” he said weakly. “Guess I’ll have to tell Gunil it needs more work.”

“Guess so,” Jooyeon said, slinging an arm over Jiseok’s shoulders as they walked onward.

They weren’t walking long before the canopy pressed lower and became greener and brighter as daylight started to break through. The natural path through the trees led them around a bend, where they found themselves between two wooden benches that faced each other across a paved path. The sun twinkled through the panelled glass ceiling above them.

It was the greenhouse at The Dryad’s Planting Center.

“How?” Hyeongjun gasped

A woman emerged from the lush greenery. Dark hair in a bundle on her head, brown peacoat, timeless beauty. Except now the timelessness was a little more obvious, the wrinkles seemingly having faded from her face, her skin radiant with health. As she looked upon them calmly, her eyes sparkled more golden than brown, reminding Jiseok of a field of wheat.

He’d already started to suspect who she was, but now he was certain.

“G-grandmother?” Hyeongjun stammered.

“Horrible birds, crows,” the woman said. “Notorious crop-killers.”

Jiseok lowered himself into a bow. “You saved us,” he said. “Thank you, Lady Demeter.”

The goddess smiled. “No need for such formalities, son of Athena.”

“Wait—you’re Demeter?” Jooyeon spluttered. “And… the forest back there, that was you?” He turned to look behind them, but there was only the back wall of the greenhouse, with gardening equipment and stacks of plant pots tucked in beside a flourishing trellis.

“Well, of course,” said the goddess. “I couldn’t very well let my grandson be eaten by those awful things. And the rest of you were there too, I suppose.”

“Your grandson,” Seungmin repeated. He looked at Hyeongjun, then back at Demeter. “So he’s not your…?”

Demeter’s smile turned strained. She turned to Jiseok. “You have it figured out, don’t you? I bet you’re dying to show off.”

Jiseok felt his face warm up. “I mean, I’m not completely sure…”

The goddess raised an eyebrow.

“Well… okay, I am now.” Jiseok turned to Hyeongjun, who was watching him a little warily, as if not sure he wanted to hear what Jiseok was about to say: “You’re not a son of Demeter, Hyeongjun, but you are her grandson. Your mother is Persephone, goddess of the spring and Queen of the Underworld. That’s why you can make plants grow as well as bend shadows to your will.” He turned back to Demeter. “And that’s why you’ve been hiding him. Because if Hades knew about him…”

“He would kill him,” Seungmin finished quietly.

“Wait, but hasn’t Hades sired plenty of demigod kids?” asked Jooyeon. “Why isn’t Persephone allowed a few? That hardly seems fair.”

“It is not fair,” agreed the goddess. “Even amongst the gods, there is much that is not fair.” She fixed her wheat-coloured gaze on Hyeongjun. “Your mother asked me to keep you safe, so that is what I’ve done—kept you hidden while cultivating your affinity for nature. We had hoped to disguise you as a son of mine. But I can see now that this will not suffice.”

Hyeongjun swallowed audibly, the long fingers of one hand worrying anxiously at his opposite wrist. “We, you said,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on the pavers. “In the stories, Persephone lives in the Underworld for fall and winter and comes to the surface for spring and summer. So why has she never…?” He trailed off, swallowing rapidly several more times. Seungmin put a hand on his shoulder.

Jiseok’s heart ached for Hyeongjun. There wasn’t a single half-blood alive (or dead) who didn’t understand exactly what Hyeongjun was feeling. The gods were many things, but they were not attentive parents.

“It was simply too dangerous, my dear,” Demeter said. She came forward and reached down to take one of Hyeongjun’s hands in hers. She closed her palms over his knuckles, and when she released him, a silver signet ring gleamed on his middle finger. Jiseok was close enough to see the engraving—a pomegranate. The symbol of Persephone. “But we both knew that a time would come when you would have to fend for yourself. When that time came, she asked me to give you this, as a symbol of her love and protection.”

Hyeongjun bit his lip, blinking rapidly as he stared at the ring. “What do you mean… fend for myself?”

“Camp Half-Blood,” Jiseok said. “Your powers are getting stronger. Your underworld powers are awakening, which will catch Hades’ attention eventually, if it hasn’t already. Your best hope of surviving is if you come to camp and learn how to defend yourself, how to use your powers, how to… well, how to be a demigod.”

Demeter nodded.

“So—so that’s it? I’m on my own now?” Hyeongjun demanded weakly.

“Hey, you’ll never be on your own again,” said Seungmin. “You’ve got us, and at camp there’s Chiron—that’s our camp director, he’s a centaur—and satyrs, and dryads, and other half-bloods…”

“Don’t forget Mr D,” added Jooyeon.

“Mr D tries very hard to forget us,” Seungmin pointed out.

“True…”

“You don’t have to stay at camp all the time,” Jiseok told Hyeongjun. “There are a few of us who stay year-round, like me and Seungmin. But most, like Jooyeon, only stay for the summer, and for the rest of the year, they live like normal kids. So…” He glanced at Demeter.

She smiled. “I’d welcome your company through the winter months, when your mother is confined to the Underworld. You do a wonderful job with the dryadlings.”

“So you don’t even have to come right away if you don’t want to,” said Seungmin. “You could wait until June.” He frowned. “Although, now that you’ve been attacked by monsters once, it’s more likely to happen again, and Jiseok makes a good point about Hades.”

“For all we know, he was the one who sent the birds,” said Jooyeon.

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll go,” Hyeongjun said. “I’ll go to Camp Half-Blood. I wasn’t much help back there when we were attacked, and… I don’t want to feel that way ever again.”

“Then I shall arrange transport,” Demeter said grandly.

The transport Demeter arranged for them was an “Aunt Demie’s Organic Cereal” van parked outside the garden centre. They didn’t see who (or what) was driving, but they were assured the van would take them straight to Half-Blood Hill, so they climbed in the back and made themselves comfortable amongst the cereal boxes.

“Is it okay for you to come?” Jiseok asked Jooyeon as he made to climb in with them. “It’s a long drive back to camp, and you don’t know when or how you’ll get back, and you have school tomorrow, and your mom—”

Jooyeon put a finger on his lips to shut him up. “I’m coming,” he insisted. “I’ll figure all that stuff out later. It’s fine.” He poked Jiseok’s cheek. “Are you that eager to get rid of me?”

Jiseok was not. He let Jooyeon into the van.

It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but it was probably better than getting Seungmin to piggyback them to the ferry terminal one by one. Demeter had even been kind enough to summon the shopping Seungmin had been forced to leave behind at Pablo’s Pizza, so he spent the first part of the trip showing them all what he’d bought (Jiseok zoned out after the first pair of sunglasses, though it did vaguely occur to him to wonder where Seungmin had gotten the money to afford it all—but given his father was Hermes, god of thieves, he decided he’d rather not know).

It wasn’t long before Hyeongjun fell asleep, curled against a bulk box of Aunt Demie’s Organic Honey-Glazed Flakes. It had been an exhausting day. Seungmin wasn’t far behind him, although maybe it just looked like he was sleeping since he was wearing a new pair of mirrored sunglasses for some reason.

Sleeping seemed like a good way to pass the time, but Jiseok still felt too wired, too wound up. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Stymphalian Birds that had attacked them. Half-bloods being attacked by monsters, sword found in armoury, sure—during his time in foster care, Jiseok had been attacked by just about everything from basilisks to lycanthropes. But those birds…

“I can hear your brain whirring,” Jooyeon commented, poking Jiseok in the side.

Jiseok glanced at him with an attempt at a smile. “What, even over the engine?”

“You bet.” He leaned over to playfully latch his arms around Jiseok’s shoulders. Jiseok giggled and put up a little bit of a fight before settling back against Jooyeon’s chest, laying a hand over his bony knee.

“You okay?” Jooyeon asked softly, into his ear. “Those birds… it’s not the first time you’ve fought them.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question. Jiseok didn’t say anything for a long moment, tracing a finger in thoughtful circles around Jooyeon’s kneecap.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been attacked by them,” he corrected. “The first time, I was eight. I didn’t… I didn’t even get a chance to fight.”

He held his breath as the images and smells and sensations rushed to the forefront of his mind. His grasp tightened on Jooyeon’s knee. He tried to focus on Jooyeon’s thumb smoothing a warm line across his collarbone.

“My mother and I—my mortal mother, that is—were attacked by them as she walked me home from school,” Jiseok continued, “We saw crows on the streetlight outside our house. I didn’t know what was happening at the time, but mom… she knew. She rushed me inside and told me to hide in the closet and not come out, and then…”

Shattering glass. Crows screeching. Pained screams. The smell of blood. Jiseok clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut and gripped Jooyeon’s knee like a doorknob. It probably hurt, but Jooyeon didn’t let on if it did.

“That’s awful,” Jooyeon said softly. “And you remember it perfectly, huh?”

“As if it just happened,” Jiseok mumbled miserably.

Jooyeon held him a little tighter, pressing his temple against Jiseok’s head.

“It’s why I can’t live with you and your mom in Boston,” Jiseok explained. “I can’t live in the mortal world. Too much has happened to me, and I can’t control my memories. I freeze up when I get reminded of something bad—it might have gotten me killed back there if not for Seungmin. And I… I’m worried I’d just bring trouble. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to your mom because of me. You know how many foster homes I had to run away from because of monsters?”

“Hey. Nothing’s gonna happen to my mom if I can help it—and if it does, it sure as Hades won’t be your fault, okay?” Jooyeon adjusted his arms around Jiseok, rocking him gently back and forth. “We can kill monsters. And you can learn to control your memories, I know you can. You can do anything you set your mind to, Jiseok.”

He sounded so sure of it, so confident. Jiseok’s mind was split in two: one half wanted to believe Jooyeon, but the other was sceptical. You couldn’t make something true just by willing it so.

Can’t you? said a secret, third part of his mind. Shouldn’t you at least test a hypothesis before declaring it false?

“Maybe,” Jiseok said weakly.

“Definitely,” Jooyeon asserted. “Because I said so.”

Jiseok couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

It was dark by the time the cereal van dropped them off at the foot of Half-Blood Hill, but between the light of the half-moon and Jooyeon glowing faintly golden, they could see just fine.

There was a figure waiting for them at the top of the hill, just inside the camp boundary—Chiron, back from his errand in Florida. Now Jiseok felt extra sheepish. He hoped Chiron hadn’t come home early just because of him and Seungmin leaving camp without permission.

Hyeongjun’s eyes widened when he realised what he was looking at—the head and torso of a man with the body of a white stallion.

“Holy shit,” he said, which made Jooyeon snort.

“You made it back safely,” Chiron said to them as they crested the hill, “unauthorised though your departure was. Jooyeon—it is good to see you again so soon.”

“Yeah, you too! Love the beard.”

Chiron smiled and turned to Hyeongjun. “And I am glad to welcome you to Camp Half-Blood, son of Persephone.”

Hyeongjun blinked owlishly.

“Demeter got in touch?” Jiseok guessed.

“Indeed,” said Chiron. He looked sharply at Jiseok, making him feel like an elementary schooler who’d been caught drawing on the desk. “We’ll talk later.” He clapped a hand onto Hyeongjun’s shoulder and steered him towards the camp proper. “For now, let’s get you settled in, shall we?”

“I’ll come with,” Seungmin offered. Hyeongjun looked grateful, but Jiseok had the feeling Seungmin was doing it partly to avoid the wrath of a certain son of Aphrodite who was presently charging up the hill towards Jiseok (trailed by an anxious-looking Gunil).

Jiseok braced himself as Jungsu seized him by the shoulders and started shaking him violently.

“What is wrong with you!?” Jungsu demanded. “Leaving camp like that without saying a word? You could have been killed!” He looked over at Jooyeon. “Hi, Jooyeon. Nice hair. You got taller!” He turned back to Jiseok and shook him some more. “You couldn’t wait three more months to see him? What is wrong with you?!”

Jiseok couldn’t answer; he was afraid to open his mouth lest he bite off his own tongue.

“Okay, I think he gets the point,” Gunil said, setting a hand on Jungsu’s shoulder—which, miraculously, got him to release Jiseok, who stumbled dizzily and would probably have tumbled down the hill if not for Jooyeon grabbing him.

“Nice to see you guys, too,” Jooyeon laughed. “Nothing’s changed here, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Jiseok muttered, pressing a hand to his spinning head.

Once Jungsu had stopped throttling him, Jiseok decided he was glad to be back at camp. He’d had his guard up all day and hadn’t even realised it. But camp was safe. Camp was home.

It was a nice thought, but it was slightly melancholy, too.

Hyeongjun was given a brief tour by Chiron and Seungmin, and then it was time for dinner. There were so few year-rounders that it seemed a little silly to force everyone to sit with their cabins—that is to say: alone—so they all sat together at the head table with Chiron and Mr D (who seemed unmoved by the appearance of two more demigods than yesterday).

It was fun watching Hyeongjun’s utter bewilderment and wonder with it all—the self-refilling goblets, the selection of foods, even the dryads serving them.

“Glad you came?” Seungmin asked, nudging him with his elbow.

Hyeongjun nodded, looking dazed.

“Just wait until June, when the other campers arrive for the summer,” said Jungsu, watching Hyeongjun with a fond smile on his face, as if he’d already decided to adopt him.

“Oh, by the way, Gunil,” said Jiseok, pushing up his sleeve and unstrapping the monster-alert watch. “This doesn’t work. Like, at all. There were at least thirty Stymphalian Birds chasing us and it didn’t make a peep.”

Gunil frowned as he took the watch from Jiseok. “I was wondering where it went,” he muttered. “I guess it still needs testing in more complex environments… maybe cell signals interfere with it…”

He kept mumbling to himself through the rest of the meal.

After dinner, as Jiseok expected, Chiron asked him and Seungmin to stay behind. It was a gentle scolding, all things considered, but they were still expected in the armoury at daybreak tomorrow to polish all the shields.

“Honestly? It was worth it,” Seungmin said to Jiseok as they walked along the torchlit path towards the cabins. “Got out and about for a while, did some shopping, met an entire goddess, and successfully escorted a new half-blood to camp.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Jiseok grumbled.

“Don’t act like you didn’t,” Seungmin said shrewdly.

As they reached the commons, a figure sitting on the steps of the Athena cabin leapt up expectantly. Jooyeon.

Seungmin clapped Jiseok on the shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you in the armoury bright and early.” Then he jogged off towards Cabin 11.

As Jiseok drew closer, Jooyeon skipped forward to meet him, sweeping him up into a big, tight hug.

“It feels so good to be back here!” Jooyeon enthused. He pulled back, holding Jiseok by the shoulders. His eyes sparkled in the torchlight, and he was glowing (literally) with happiness. His radiant smile made Jiseok’s heart do something funny in his chest. “The old centaur didn’t go too hard on you, did he? We all know he’s a big softie.”

Jiseok couldn’t help but laugh. “He is. He’s got me and Seungmin polishing shields in the armoury tomorrow morning. Could be worse.”

“For sure,” Jooyeon agreed.

“Did you manage to contact your mom?”

“Oh, yeah, I sent her an Iris-message just before. She was a little worried, but she understands. She’s used to this stuff by now. She said she’d tell the school that I caught a really bad flu, which means…” he slid his arms over Jiseok’s shoulders, stepping closer so Jiseok had to tilt his head back to keep eye contact, “that I can stay for the whole week.”

Relief shot down Jiseok’s spine. All evening, he’d been tamping down on the dread he already felt at the prospect of parting ways with Jooyeon again, but now that the eventuality was pushed back, it felt like a weight had been lifted from the top of his head.

“Great! You can help us polish the shields,” Jiseok said, grinning.

Jooyeon laughed right in his face. His breath smelled like the barbecue fajitas from dinner. “Yeah, no thanks. I will be sleeping in. I’m not really a rise with the sun type of Apollo kid.”

“You bring shame to your father’s name.”

“You’re one to talk, mister impulsive.”

Smiling, Jiseok placed a hand on Jooyeon’s chest to gently push him away. “Well, since my impulsiveness has earned me an early morning, I’d better get to bed.”

Jooyeon pouted, looking awfully like a puppy. “Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?”

In fact, Jiseok had been dying to kiss him since the second he’d seen him on that sunlit street in Boston this morning. Not that Jooyeon needed to know that.

But Jiseok did lean in and oblige him—and himself.

The week passed blissfully, the best week Jiseok could remember since the summer.

It also passed way too quickly.

He and Jooyeon competed at the archery field like old times. Jooyeon was still faster and more accurate than Jiseok, but Jiseok couldn’t be too upset about it since Jooyeon had the unfair advantage of being the son of an archery god. Besides, Jooyeon still couldn’t beat him with a sword, knife, or polearm. Barehanded… okay, he could beat Jiseok barehanded, but only because he kept tickling him.

Since there were now six of them, it was enough for a game of capture the flag in the woods. Jiseok, Seungmin, and Hyeongjun teamed up against Gunil, Jungsu, and Jooyeon. Jiseok’s team had a considerable advantage between Seungmin’s ability to run like the wind and Hyeongjun’s ability to manipulate the plants and the shadows—powers that were growing stronger by the day. They barely even needed Jiseok, although Jiseok did take great pleasure in sneaking up on Jooyeon and pushing him into the creek. At least, it was amusing until Jooyeon grabbed him and pulled him down with him. (And while they were messing around, Seungmin zoomed past with the flag and won the game).

By Saturday morning, Jiseok’s mood had begun to sink, knowing that tomorrow, Jooyeon would be leaving again and wouldn’t be back until June. Jiseok tried to cheer himself up with the prospect of camp being more interesting with Hyeongjun here, but it didn’t really work. He liked Hyeongjun, but… Jooyeon was Jiseok’s boyfriend. It was different.

Somewhat irritatingly, they had a cabin inspection after breakfast. The Athena cabin was in much its usual state, except for Jiseok’s unmade bunk and the books and scrolls he’d pulled out from the shelves, but it didn’t take him long to tidy up. Jooyeon, knowing him, probably had a bigger job in the Apollo cabin.

In front of the others—especially Jooyeon—Jiseok had been trying his best to hide how depressed he felt. But on his own, in the safety of his cabin, there was no one to hide anything from. Once he finished straightening things up, he sank into a reading chair by the fire with a sigh.

The door creaked and he looked up, expecting it to be Gunil in head-counsellor mode with his clipboard. But Jiseok first saw the white forelegs of a stallion, and then Chiron stuck his head through the door.

“Sorry to intrude,” he said amiably.

“Not at all,” Jiseok said, pushing himself out of his seat. “What brings you here?”

Chiron hummed, stroking his beard as he scanned the bookshelves as if searching for a title. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said. He turned his gaze onto Jiseok. “I couldn’t help but notice you were quiet at breakfast. Everything alright?”

Jiseok supposed he hadn’t done as good a job at hiding his mood as he thought—then again, Chiron had been training teenage demigods for thousands of years.

“Yeah, fine,” Jiseok lied. “I’m just… a bit down about Jooyeon leaving tomorrow. It’s not a big deal.”

Again, Chiron hummed, more softly this time. “Is Jooyeon leaving really what’s upsetting you?”

Jiseok almost couldn’t believe his ears. “Sorry?”

“Ah—apologies. Jooyeon came to talk to me yesterday. He told me he had suggested you stay with him and his mother in Boston for the rest of the semester. He thought you seemed quite interested, but said you insisted it would be impossible. Why is that?”

The reminder ignited the same fire Jiseok had felt in his belly last Sunday when Jooyeon had posed the idea. A fire of want—and at the same time, fear.

“It’s too dangerous,” he said feebly, staring at the floorboards by Chiron’s hooves.

“Nothing about life as a half-blood is safe, my boy,” Chiron chided gently. “This camp exists to keep you safe, yes, but also to teach you how to defend yourself. Not just so you can survive, but so you may live.”

Jiseok frowned as he processed Chiron’s words. He made a good point. Jiseok was safe at camp, but he was restless, and no less a victim of the horrors lurking in his memory, horrors he was terrified of replicating. But what was the point of living in a bubble? What kind of future did that promise him? Perhaps the outside world exposed him to more triggers, more opportunities for darkness to overtake him and monsters to attack him, but… he wanted to go to school. He wanted to learn. He wanted to read books he’d never read before and see things he’d never seen and go places he’d never gone, maybe places no one had ever gone. As a kid, he’d wanted to be an astronaut. As a teenager, he still wanted to be an astronaut, or an aerospace engineer, or both, but…

“Maybe if I didn’t remember all the horrible things that happened to me so perfectly, I wouldn’t be so scared of them happening again,” Jiseok said quietly. “I think that’s the real reason I went to Boston last week—because ever since the spring, I’ve been terrified of something happening to Jooyeon. You once told me that my memory is a double-edged sword, and you were right. I love being able to remember things so well. But I also hate it.”

Chiron set a hand on Jiseok’s shoulder. “The only way to learn to wield that sword, my boy, is to take it fearlessly by the handle. Do you understand?”

Jiseok bit his lip and nodded.

“Think on it,” Chiron said warmly, “and let me know what you decide.”

Before dinner, Jiseok dragged Jooyeon down to the beach for a walk. The sunset was impossibly orange over the horizon, setting both sky and sea aflame. There was a gentle sea breeze, sharp with the scents of frost and brine and a hint of something green; a portent of spring impending. They walked leisurely, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. Jooyeon turned his face into the drooping sun and closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. Jiseok tried not to stare, but it was hopeless.

“What are you thinking about?” Jooyeon asked once the sun had dropped below the horizon and the lingering luminance rushed to catch up with it.

Jiseok answered truthfully, “I’m wondering if Persephone will visit Hyeongjun when she comes up from the Underworld next month.”

“I hope so. Hyeongjun deserves that.”

“When was the last time you talked to your father?” Jiseok couldn’t help but ask.

“Christmas Eve,” Jooyeon said. “He gave me that gold Nintendo Switch.”

“Oh, right, yeah, you showed me over Iris-message,” said Jiseok. “Gods, I’m so jealous of that thing.”

“You know…” Jooyeon squeezed his hand. “My offer still stands. Come back to Boston with me, and I’ll let you play on my golden Nintendo Switch.” He laughed nervously. “Look, no pressure, but I talked to my mom about it, and she’s totally down—I think she’s even set up the guest room already.”

“You talked to Chiron about it, too.”

Jooyeon pouted. “Can you blame me? I’m worried about you. You haven’t been happy, Jiseok, and it’s not just because of me not being around. Last week, even when we were being chased by those birds, I think that was the most alive you’ve felt in a while.”

Jiseok let out a long breath through his nose. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “It was.”

“So?” Jooyeon tugged his hand and brought him to a stop. “Will you come back to Boston with me? The semester already started, but my mom can pull some strings and get you in on late enrolment, and it’s not like you’ll have trouble keeping up—in fact, I bet you could probably test out of high school and straight into college already, and—”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time,” Jiseok laughed. “But…” He shook his head. His voice quavered slightly when he spoke again, not just out of fear, but out of a sort of giddiness that bubbled secretly in his stomach. “May as well give it a go, right?”

Jooyeon’s whole face lit up as if Jiseok had told him there would no longer be vegetables served at the dining pavilion. He threw his arms around Jiseok and hugged him tight, cackling with joy, then pulled back to plant an elated kiss on his lips.

This was one of those times when Jiseok was grateful for his perfect recall. He never wanted to forget this feeling—this mixture of infectious joy and excitement and just a tiny bit of fear, which made the whole thing more exhilarating. He never wanted to forget how Jooyeon’s eyes sparkled, or the warmth of his arms despite the late-winter chill, or the feeling of his chapped lips against Jiseok’s. The cloud-dappled dusk sky over their heads. The soft white sand beneath their feet.

He wanted to remember it perfectly. He would remember it perfectly.

But before the moment became a memory, he decided to simply live in it.