“It’s true, then,” I said. “The other Oracles still exist. The emperors hold them all?”

“They’re working on it. Python has Delphi—that’s the biggest problem. But you won’t have the strength to take him head-on. You’ve got to pry their fingers off the minor Oracles first, loosen their power. To do that, you need a new source of prophecy for this camp—an Oracle that is older and independent.”

“Dodona,” I said. “Your whispering grove.”

“Right on,” Rhea said. “I thought the grove was gone forever. But then—I don’t know how—the oak trees regrew themselves in the heart of these woods. You have to find the grove and protect it.”

“I’m working on that.” I touched the sticky wound on the side of my face. “But my friend Meg—”

“Yeah. You had some setbacks. But there are always setbacks, Apollo. When Lizzy Stanton and I hosted the first women’s rights convention in Woodstock—”

“I think you mean Seneca Falls?”

Rhea frowned. “Wasn’t that in the ’60s?”

“The ’40s,” I said. “The 1840s, if memory serves.”

“So…Jimi Hendrix wasn’t there?”

“Doubtful.”

Rhea fiddled with her peace symbol. “Then who set that guitar on fire? Ah, never mind. The point is, you have to persevere. Sometimes change takes centuries.”

“Except that I’m mortal now,” I said. “I don’t have centuries.”

“But you have willpower,” Rhea said. “You have mortal drive and urgency. Those are things the gods often lack.”

At her side, her lion roared.

“I’ve gotta split,” Rhea said. “If the imperators track me down—bad scene, man. I’ve been off the grid too long. I’m not going to get sucked into that patriarchal institutional oppression again. Just find Dodona. That’s your first trial.”

“And if the Beast finds the grove first?”

“Oh, he’s already found the gates, but he’ll never get through them without you and the girl.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“That’s cool. Just breathe. Find your center. Enlightenment has to come from within.”

It was very much like a line I would’ve given my worshippers. I was tempted to choke Rhea with her macramé belt, but I doubted I would have the strength. Also, she had two lions. “But what do I do? How do I save Meg?”

“First, get healed. Rest up. Then…well, how you save Meg is up to you. The journey is greater than the destination, you know?”

She held out her hand. Draped on her fingers was a set of wind chimes—a collection of hollow brass tubes and medallions engraved with ancient Greek and Cretan symbols. “Hang these in the largest ancient oak. That will help you focus the voices of the Oracle. If you get a prophecy, groovy. It’ll only be the beginning, but without Dodona, nothing else will be possible. The emperors will suffocate our future and divide up the world. Only when you have defeated Python can you reclaim your rightful place on Olympus. My kid, Zeus…he’s got this whole ‘tough love’ disciplinarian hang-up, you dig? Taking back Delphi is the only way you’re going to get on his good side.”

“I—I was afraid you would say that.”

“There’s one other thing,” she warned. “The Beast is planning some kind of attack on your camp. I don’t know what it is, but it’s going to be big. Like, even worse than napalm. You have to warn your friends.”

The nearest lion nudged me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I managed to remain standing, but only because my legs locked up in complete fright. For the first time, I understood the trials that awaited me. I knew the enemies I must face. I would need more than wind chimes and enlightenment. I’d need a miracle. And as a god, I can tell you that those are never distributed lightly.

“Good luck, Apollo.” The Titan queen placed the wind chimes in my hands. “I’ve got to check my kiln before my pots crack. Keep on trucking, and save those trees!”

The woods dissolved. I found myself standing in the central green at Camp Half-Blood, face-to-face with Chiara Benvenuti, who jumped back in alarm. “Apollo?”

I smiled. “Hey, girl.” My eyes rolled up in my head and, for the second time that week, I charmingly passed out in front of her.

I apologize

For pretty much everything

Wow, I’m a good guy

“WAKE,” SAID A VOICE.

I opened my eyes and saw a ghost—his face just as precious to me as Daphne’s. I knew his copper skin, his kind smile, the dark curls of his hair, and those eyes as purple as senatorial robes.

“Hyacinthus,” I sobbed. “I’m so sorry…”

He turned his face toward the sunlight, revealing the ugly dent above his left ear where the discus had struck him. My own wounded face throbbed in sympathy.

“Seek the caverns,” he said. “Near the springs of blue. Oh, Apollo…your sanity will be taken away, but do not…”