Blessings from Khaos

|Love is A Game that Two Can Play|

Lea made her way to Olympos, eyes darkening as she saw the statues prowling around the mountain.

She left Salome on the ground level as she moved around to shore as many as the defenses as she could.

Depressing was not a word that usually describes Mount Olympos, at least not from the mythos but it looked that way now. No fires lit the braziers. The windows were dark. The streets were deserted, and the doors were barred. The only movement was in the parks, which had been set up as field hospitals. Will Solace and the other Apollo campers scrambled around, caring for the wounded. Naiads and dryads tried to help, using nature magic songs to heal burns and poison.

She felt something ached painfully within her when she saw an area that was filled with lingering mageia... familiar mageia and a pool of golden ichor.

Kírkē was not to be found.

She sealed up the opening as best as she was able to before continuing back towards the mainland. She met up with Annabeth, Grover, and Percy as they walked towards the palace. It was where Kronos would head. As long as the defenses continued to fall, as long as they kept getting pushed back... he would make his way up the elevator and destroy the throne room, the center of the gods' power.

In a way, most of that didn't matter from the way that the trio stared at her pale pallor.

Percy quickly made his way to her side, lending her strength as they walked to the palace doors.

The bronze doors creaked open. Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The constellations twinkled coldly on the ceiling of the great hall. The hearth was down to a dull red glow. Hestia, in the form of a little girl in brown robes, hunched at its edge, shivering. Lea's brow furrowed. She had seen that little girl before at the Camp. She had waved at Lea before.

Percy's cow goat friend swam sadly in his sphere of water. He let out a half-hearted moo when he saw them. In the firelight, the thrones cast evil-looking shadows, like grasping hands.

Standing at the foot of Zeus's throne, looking up at the stars, was Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She was holding a Greek ceramic vase.

"Rachel?" Percy said. "Um, what are you doing with that?"

She focused on him as if she were coming out of a dream. "I found it. It's Pandora's jar, isn't it?"

"Please put down the jar," he said.

"I can see Hope inside it." Rachel ran her fingers over the ceramic designs. "So fragile."

"Rachel."

His voice seemed to bring her back to reality. She held out the jar, and he took it. Lea waved him off, stumbling over to what she assumed to be Hermes' throne-if the way she felt compelled to it was any indication- and leaned against it.

"Grover," Annabeth mumbled. "Let's scout around the palace. Maybe we can find some extra Greek fire or Hephaestus traps."

"But—"

Annabeth elbowed him.

"Right!" he yelped. "I love traps!"

She dragged him out of the throne room.

Over by the fire, Hestia was huddled in her robes, rocking back and forth.

"Come on," Percy told Rachel. "I want you to meet someone."

They sat next to the goddess. Lea rested her head against the throne.

"Lady Hestia," Percy said.

"Hello, Percy Jackson," the goddess murmured. "Getting colder. Harder to keep the fire going."