"Annabeth."

She likes the way her name is spoken. No pity, no underlying whisper of are you going to break if I touch you?

When she glances up from the blueprints, she's not surprised to find Reyna.

The warrior looks good. Her olive skin is glowing with health. Those sharp coal-black eyes are guarded as ever, but there's a calming quality to them.

"I heard the news." Not an apology, an acknowledgement.

"Yeah," she replies, curt and brusque.

Reyna's eyes drag up and down her sickly frame. She wonders what Reyna's thinking. There's no judgment in her expression, and Annabeth is liking her more by the second.

"Walk with me," offers the daughter of Bellona.

There are three certainties Annabeth can rely on when it comes to Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano.

One. She is a woman who knows suffering.

Two. She is a soldier - a leader, someone who understands how to put her people above all else.

Three. She and Annabeth are more alike than either of them would care to admit.

The pair is silent as they walk the winding stone paths of Camp Half-Blood. Like always, it's a flawless day, the skies heavy with late-August heat. Perfect for a swim in the lake or a lazy picnic on the dewy grass.

Young campers – gods, they can't be more than nine or ten – engage in a vigorous game of tag while a counselor watches over them. By the strawberry fields, she spots Hazel and Nico sprawled out on a blanket, lost in easy conversation.

There are a dozen satyrs sitting in a wide-spaced circle on the lawn, playing a dreamy tune on their panpipes, and she notices that Grover is among them. Despite the pretty song, she's suddenly overcome with a feeling akin to being submerged in silence. She zeroes in on a small fern sprouting from the earth as it sways and dances to the beat; its fronds are very, very green.

For an odd, guilty moment, Annabeth imagines lowering herself into the deliciously cold, fresh water, sunbathing in buttery warm light, maybe toasting s'mores over a pirouetting purple flame –

She blinks and the spark crepitates back into ash. Her vision takes on a familiar grayish tinge. The satyrs' music doesn't feel quite so enchanting anymore.

Grover hasn't seen her, and she's not looking forward to facing him anytime soon. She remembers the days when Grover couldn't play the pipes to save his life. Her throat suddenly feels tight and sour, and Annabeth jerks herself back to the present.

She can feel Reyna's eyes on her, and this time there's a tick of annoyance in her throat.

"So what did you want to tell me?"

"I have a proposition for you."

Author's Note: Reviews make me work much, much faster. Just putting that out there.

Next chapter - Reyna's offer, Sally Jackson, Grover, and we get more of the Seven :) I promise it'll be a lot longer. And Percy's in it... sort of.