“So where is Rachel Dare?” I asked. “Perhaps if I spoke with her…?”

Chiron set down his tea. “Rachel planned to visit us during her winter vacation, but she never did. It might not mean anything….”

I leaned forward. It was not unheard of for Rachel Dare to be late. She was artistic, unpredictable, impulsive, and rule-averse—all qualities I dearly admired. But it wasn’t like her not to show up at all.

“Or?” I asked.

“Or it might be part of the larger problem,” Chiron said. “Prophecies are not the only things that have failed. Travel and communication have become difficult in the last few months. We haven’t heard from our friends at Camp Jupiter in weeks. No new demigods have arrived. Satyrs aren’t reporting from the field. Iris messages no longer work.”

“Iris what?” Meg asked.

“Two-way visions,” I said. “A form of communication overseen by the rainbow goddess. Iris has always been flighty….”

“Except that normal human communications are also on the fritz,” Chiron said. “Of course, phones have always been dangerous for demigods—”

“Yeah, they attract monsters,” Meg agreed. “I haven’t used a phone in forever.”

“A wise move,” Chiron said. “But recently our phones have stopped working altogether. Mobile, landline, Internet…it doesn’t seem to matter. Even the archaic form of communication known as e-mail is strangely unreliable. The messages simply don’t arrive.”

“Did you look in the junk folder?” I offered.

“I fear the problem is more complicated,” Chiron said. “We have no communication with the outside world. We are alone and understaffed. You are the first newcomers in almost two months.”

I frowned. “Percy Jackson mentioned nothing of this.”

“I doubt Percy is even aware,” Chiron said. “He’s been busy with school. Winter is normally our quietest time. For a while, I was able to convince myself that the communication failures were nothing but an inconvenient happenstance. Then the disappearances started.”

In the fireplace, a log slipped from the andiron. I may or may not have jumped in my seat.

“The disappearances, yes.” I wiped drops of tea from my pants and tried to ignore Meg’s snickering. “Tell me about those.”

“Three in the last month,” Chiron said. “First it was Cecil Markowitz from the Hermes cabin. One morning his bunk was simply empty. He didn’t say anything about wanting to leave. No one saw him go. And in the past few weeks, no one has seen or heard from him.”

“Children of Hermes do tend to sneak around,” I offered.

“At first, that’s what we thought,” said Chiron. “But a week later, Ellis Wakefield disappeared from the Ares cabin. Same story: empty bunk, no signs that he had either left on his own or was…ah, taken. Ellis was an impetuous young man. It was conceivable he might have charged off on some ill-advised adventure, but it made me uneasy. Then this morning we realized a third camper had vanished: Miranda Gardiner, head of the Demeter cabin. That was the worst news of all.”

Meg swung her feet off the armrest. “Why is that the worst?”

“Miranda is one of our senior counselors,” Chiron said. “She would never leave on her own without notice. She is too smart to be tricked away from camp, and too powerful to be forced. Yet something happened to her…something I can’t explain.”

The old centaur faced me. “Something is very wrong, Apollo. These problems may not be as alarming as the rise of Kronos or the awakening of Gaea, but in a way I find them even more unsettling, because I have never seen anything like this before.”

I recalled my dream of the burning sun bus. I thought of the voices I’d heard in the woods, urging me to wander off and find their source.

“These demigods…” I said. “Before they disappeared, did they act unusual in any way? Did they report…hearing things?”

Chiron raised an eyebrow. “Not that I am aware of. Why?”

I was reluctant to say more. I didn’t want to cause a panic without knowing what we were facing. When mortals panic, it can be an ugly scene, especially if they expect me to fix the problem.

Also, I will admit I felt a bit impatient. We had not yet addressed the most important issues—mine.

“It seems to me,” I said, “that our first priority is to bend all the camp’s resources to helping me regain my divine state. Then I can assist you with these other problems.”

Chiron stroked his beard. “But what if the problems are connected, my friend? What if the only way to restore you to Olympus is by reclaiming the Oracle of Delphi, thus freeing the power of prophecy? What if Delphi is the key to it all?”