A/N: So ... I have a favour to ask. This was written for the pjosecretsanta2k17 exchange on tumblr. To be frank, I'm really worried about it, because it seems to be the least popular gift on the exchange, and my recipient doesn't even seem to have read it (or maybe they really hated it and thought it'd be less rude to say nothing than to say so). I really don't know if it is that awful, but I guess I'll let you guys be the judge, yes? Please do let me know what you think. If it sucks, be honest! I need to know these things so I can figure out where I've gone wrong!

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The Silent Goddess

Reyna didn't believe in superstition. Her neighbours in San Juan, where she'd grown up, had been full of them—black cats and ladders and thirteenth floors and silly things like that. It was all just paranoia, an overblown belief that bad spirits were out to get you. And Reyna knew first-hand what it was like when that got out of control.

So when her legionnaires started muttering about seeing signs around Camp Jupiter, she didn't take it too seriously. They were children of the gods living in a magical enclave, training to fight monsters, for Mars's sake. You'd think everyone would know not to panic when weird things happened. She had enough to do without worrying about kids freaking out over onyx gemstones appearing in the wall capstones, or the shower of white petals that had blown in from Berkeley.

Okay, so it had been weird when their new augur, Ophelia, had gutted her first stuffed animal (a black cat) to find another one inside, and another, like one of those creepy Russian dolls. But the Mercury kids had pulled off more elaborate pranks than that before (and they had seemed a little too amused). And yes, she had to admit that the black fog that had settled last Friday on Temple Hill had an ominous feel. But ever since Jason had started that 'no god left behind' project of his, minor gods had been stopping by out of nowhere to check out their brand new shrines. It was probably just one of them doing something weird.

Her logic couldn't quash the growing rumours, though. The legionnaires whispered about harbingers of doom and traded stories about death omens. The latest one to spread had been the legend of a mysterious, vengeful Underworld goddess.

'They called her Dea Tacita,' Ophelia announced at the senate meeting. 'The Silent One. She can only speak through signs and portents … when she's coming to snatch someone.'

'Snatch someone?' Reyna raised an eyebrow. It sounded like a B-rated horror movie.

Ophelia nodded emphatically. 'She'll steal into your house—or the barracks, I guess—and snatch your soul for the Underworld.'

Frank frowned. 'I've never heard of this Dea Tacita.' He spoke hesitantly, like he was still feeling his way around his new role as Reyna's fellow praetor. 'Isn't Thanatos—or Letum, if we're talking Roman forms—the god of death? Why would we need another one?'

'Dea Tacita doesn't deliver death precisely. Once she marks you, you disappear slowly. Like, you'll fade away, bit by bit, become more ghost-like, until no one can see you any more.'

Against her will, a shiver ran down Reyna's spine. Everything Ophelia had just described …

She'd seen it before.

'And that's not even the end of it,' Ophelia continued. 'Once you're gone, the memory of you will fade into obscurity as well. It will be like you've never existed.'

'This is ridiculous,' Reyna said, quashing down her thrill of fear. 'Logically, if everyone who's ever been snatched—' she made little air quotes with her fingers, 'has been forgotten, we wouldn't even know about her. Isn't it possible someone just made up the whole story and passed it down?'

'But the signs!' Ophelia protested. 'The opals, the asphodel petals, the cats … all symbols of—'

'Death,' Hazel finished. As the daughter of Pluto, she probably knew what she was talking about. Reyna was relieved when Hazel added, 'But I don't see how it points to some unknown death goddess.'

'They're signs that she has her sights set on someone.'

Reyna crossed her arms. 'Hazel's right. We can't jump to far-fetched conclusions. Stop spreading the rumour, Ophelia. There's a logical explanation for this. No one's going to disappear. Or become a …'

Mania, her mind filled in for her.

'Or become a forgotten ghost,' she said firmly. 'We need to stop fear-mongering.'

That should have been the end of it. But then, right after that senate meeting, her nightmares started up.

Reyna didn't make much of them at first. Nightmares were part and parcel of every demigod's life, and they had just been through a war. After everything she'd seen in the past few months, it was to be expected that nightmares would plague her for a while.

But these … it was always the same sequence. She'd be on the balcony of her family's old hacienda, looking out over the colourful rooftops of San Juan. The night would be peaceful, quiet. And then the clouds would gather, blotting out the moon and the stars. In the darkness, they would come.

The ghosts of her ancestors would flood over the balustrades, hungry hands reaching out for her, smoky faces filled with insatiable need. They would press in closer, wailing her name, demanding … well, Reyna wasn't sure exactly what they wanted from her, but she was terrified that if they got hold of her, they would drag her down, eat away at her until she became one of them: a faded spirit filled with nothing but fear and desire.

And then, just as they were about to close in on her, she would appear.

Unlike the other ghosts, her appearance was more solid. Or maybe it was because she was covered in black from head to toe in robes made from a darkness so intense they drowned out the night. She had long ebony fingers that put Reyna in mind of the black keys on a piano. They were folded across her stomach, clasped around a single white blossom.

An asphodel. Just like the petals that had snowed on Camp Jupiter.

This woman never said a word. Reyna never even saw her face, obscured as it was by a rippling veil. But Reyna got the sense that she wanted something from her, too. Her need was softer than the other ghosts, gentle and muted, but powerful in its own way. Maybe even more so. It seemed to restrain the clamour of the others, creating a small space between them, a sliver of breathing room for Reyna.

'Who are you?' Reyna would say, but the woman remained mute and hidden, as though waiting for Reyna to answer her own question.

A mysterious Underworld goddess …

Reyna didn't want to believe it, but she would wake from her nightmares in a cold sweat, afraid that she'd become an empty shell, invisible to the world but for the remains of her ghostly energy.

Just like Julian Ramírez-Arellano.

No. It wasn't possible. She wasn't like her father. She couldn't be …

But she couldn't help wondering if this was how he had begun his descent into madness after his return from Iraq.

She had just been through a war, too.

'Reyna?'

She forced herself to stop ruminating and pay attention to Frank, who was staring at her with worry in his eyes.

'Sorry, what?'

'I just asked if you wanted to go over the plans for tonight's war games, but never mind that now. What's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

Frank crossed his arms over his chest. Despite his muscular build, he rarely looked threatening, thanks to his usual placid expression, but now he had a stern, don't give me that bullshit look on his face that made his resemblance to his god of war father more striking. He didn't say anything, but like the veiled woman in her dream, he was clearly waiting for an answer.

'Just nightmares.' Reyna tried to keep her voice light. 'You know.'

Frank's face softened—nightmares were something they all understood—but his brows remained drawn in a deep furrow. 'It's got something to do with the Underworld goddess thing, hasn't it? You're worried about her.'

Slowly, Reyna traced the bars on her forearm, her marks of service to New Rome. It had been a lot easier to hide stuff like this from Jason. As much as Reyna had liked him, Jason had never picked up on her feelings very well. Frank … well, they hadn't been working together for very long, but he was proving to be quite perceptive.

'I get it,' Frank said softly. 'You're worried that everyone will freak out even more if you show that you're scared. But we're partners, right? You can tell me. Maybe I can help.'

Reyna swallowed. She'd never have guessed that Frank would grow into such an impressive leader. After Jason had been MIA for months and Percy had skipped out right after being crowned praetor, she'd carried the position on her own for so long. It was hard to get used to the idea that she actually had a fellow praetor she could work with. Someone she could trust.

She sighed. 'Okay.'

The furrow in Frank's forehead deepened as she told him about the mysterious woman in her vision. She left out the parts about her family history—that wasn't something she liked to share with anyone, fellow praetor or not—but she described the veiled woman as carefully as she could.

'Do you think it's her? Dea Tacita?' Frank said when she finished.

'Honestly? I have no idea.' Reyna rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. 'I don't even want to believe that she exists. But if she does … what am I going to do about her?'

Frank cleared his throat. 'What are we going to do about her, you mean. I'm going to help, and so will Hazel, and all our friends. You don't have to handle this on your own.'

His display of support made her feel more solid. But there was one issue that no one would be able to help her with. 'The problem is, she's found me. And if Ophelia's right about what that means …'

'You're not going to disappear,' Frank said firmly. 'Reyna … when Jason handed me the praetorship and suddenly I had to make the calls when we were fighting Gaia—it was hard. And you've been doing it for years. You're a real leader. And I can't imagine that any mystery goddess could manage to make you fade away.'

'You think I should confront her, then?'

'If anyone could, it'd be you. But before you try, I've got an idea. I think we need to talk to Hazel and Nico.'

A few months ago, Temple Hill had been a lonely place, with only three major temples at the crest—dedicated to Rome's holy trinity of Jupiter, Juno, and Mars—surrounded by a half-circle of dusty altars for the remaining VIP gods. Now, it was a centre of activity, with new shrines going up by the day. A skeleton construction crew, courtesy of Nico di Angelo, had been working on the project for weeks, ever since Jason had brought the idea over from Camp Half-Blood. He and Annabeth had apparently started designing a grand temple over there to honour all the gods, major and minor. Now he was on a mission to track down their Roman counterparts and give them proper representation at Camp Jupiter. Within a month, Temple Hill had become dotted with shrines, altars, and mini-temples. Jupiter's temple still stood in pride of place, but nearly every god had at least an altar to their name, too, even some Reyna hadn't known existed, like Mutinus and Pax. Jason had certainly done some thorough research. It was one of the things she'd always liked about him.

Right now, Jason and Nico stood at the base of the hill, overseeing the construction of their latest shrine. Jason had the design plans on a scroll in front of him, while Nico ordered his skeleton workers around. Both boys looked up when Reyna and Frank approached.

'Who's this one for?' Frank asked, as two skeletons hammered an arch across two pillars.

'Angerona,' Jason said. 'Goddess of pain and sorrow. Oh, not that kind,' he added quickly, seeing their worried expressions. 'Her job's to relieve pain and sorrow.'

'Good to know,' Reyna murmured. Hearing Jason talk about relieving pain and sorrow reminded her of Venus's promise a few years ago—no demigod shall heal your heart. Not that she was pining over Jason or anything, but it still made her insides twist a little.

Jason rolled up his design scroll. 'So, er, what brings you here?'

'Well, we're kind of looking for Nico,' Frank nodded to the son of Hades, 'and Hazel.'

Nico held up his hand in a T-shape to the skeleton workers, who promptly collapsed into a pile of bones by the new shrine's pillars. Probably that was their version of a break. 'You found me,' he said. 'And Hazel's inside.'

Jason nodded and winked. 'Step into my office, my friends.'

The 'office' was a glorified name for the little shack at the bottom of the hill from which Jason ran operations. Actually, it had a fancier name—the Domus Publica—but it wore that name much in the same way that Jason bore his fancy new title of Pontifex Maximus. Which was to say, carelessly, with scant regard for the honour of the position. There were no framed certificates or medals, no laurels or accolades to be found anywhere in the room. Colourful drawings were pinned to every wall, with a single corkboard for whatever project Jason had his attention on at the moment. One rickety wooden table took up half the room. Lying on it was the bulk of Jason's research: at one end were several heavy tomes Reyna recognised as originating from the senate library. Each was opened to a page on a different Roman deity.

Perched on the other end was Jason's girlfriend Piper, carefully painting what looked like an action figure. A whole line of them made a row along the edge of the table opposite Hazel, who sat sketching a motherly-looking woman with coronet braids. Next to her was a pile of completed drawings that looked like the blueprints for the figures on the table.

Frank picked up one of the figures. 'Are these Mythomagic figurines?'

Piper nodded. 'Jason promised he'd make all the gods action figures, but Nico thought these made more sense.'

'Minor gods expansion deck,' Nico explained. 'And we get to invent their power stats, too.' He nodded towards the figurine in Frank's hand. 'That's Palaemon. Or Portunes, in Roman. He's an enabler—he can unlock other gods' powers of up to 2,000 attack points, and that doubles if your opponent attacks first.'

'Nice,' Frank said. There was an excited gleam in his eyes. Then he seemed to remember why they had come. 'Er, we need to talk to Hazel and Nico.'

Piper frowned. 'Should we leave?'

Frank looked to Reyna. She considered it for a moment, then she thought of what Frank had said: You don't have to handle this on your own. She shook her head. 'Maybe you can help me—help us—figure this out, too.'

She and Frank told the others the story of Dea Tacita, and Reyna's dreams.

Piper shivered. 'Please tell me we're not talking about another evil earth goddess who wants to kill us all.'

'She might be an earth goddess,' Hazel said. Everyone stared at her. She wound her little finger around one of her curls, pulling it straight and letting it go again. 'I did some research after Ophelia brought her up. I tried to find someone who might fit. There aren't that many Roman Underworld goddesses, after all. I found one named Larenta, but there was so little recorded about her. I wonder how many minor gods faded out of existence because people stopped believing in them.'

'Well, that's what this project is about,' Jason said, touching one of the minor god figurines on the head.

'But back to Reyna's dream,' Frank said. 'I was thinking … well, Hazel, you have experience with—okay, maybe not dreams, but blackouts and flashbacks. I thought maybe you could try and follow Reyna into hers—meet this goddess with her.'

Hazel tugged on another curl. 'Sure, I've taken you into my flashback before, but I don't know if I could do it with someone else's.'

'You don't need to,' Nico said. He shook his head at Reyna. 'Dreams and death—that's my domain. I could navigate to you.' He twisted the skull ring he wore on his finger. 'But I won't do it unless you want me to.'

Gratitude washed over Reyna. She'd had a moment of consternation when Frank suggested that Hazel visit her dream. She hadn't told her friends everything about the nightmares, after all. But Nico knew her secret. He had a better idea than the rest what ghosts lurked in her past. And he was still offering to help … while also respecting her privacy.

'You don't always have to be the one giving others your strength, Reyna,' Jason said. 'Let Nico help.'

Reyna touched the sword and torch tattoo on her forearm—the symbol of Bellona, reminding her of her mother's blessing, her power to radiate her own strength and courage to those around her. Jason was right. She was so used to being the one giving aid to others that when it came to asking for it … she hardly knew how to. She turned to Nico. 'Will you help me?'

Nico held out his hand to her in a rare display of solidarity. 'Of course I will.'

Reyna didn't really know what to expect that night. It wasn't exactly like setting out on a quest with her friends. Nico had promised that he'd find her, but he hadn't been able to explain how.

'It's sort of like shadow travel, but not exactly,' he'd said.

The nightmare started the same way, on her balcony in San Juan, under the starry sky. But this time, when the clouds gathered and the ghosts came, the one she feared most was at their front.

He was in his army fatigues, glowing brighter than the others, just like he had on the night she'd killed him. The hilt of the Pirate Confresi's sabre stuck out of his chest.

'Reyna Avila,' Julian Ramírez-Arellano rasped. 'Daughter.'

He held out his hands like he meant to hug her, but his face was crazed and angry, his eyes glowing with murderous rage. Reyna would have stumbled back if she could, but she couldn't find her feet. Her body felt wispy and insubstantial, as if she had already become a ghost, like her ancestors, like her father, the mania.

And this time, no veiled goddess appeared to barricade her from them.

Her father's hands closed around her wrist, so cold that they burned against her skin. He glowed even brighter, as if her essence was pouring out into him. She would fade, and he would return.

'Reyna!' Nico's voice rang out across the rooftops. The ghosts of her ancestors parted and she saw him waving his Stygian iron sword to cut a path through them. He was too far away to stop her father, but the sight of him gave her a boost of courage.

No one could make her fade. She would not become her father.

And with this thought, something burned in her chest, a brilliant warmth that filled her with shape and form. Reyna had never known what it felt like for those to whom she'd imparted her strength, but maybe it was something like this.

Her father's hands were still around hers, but his eyes lost the vicious anger that consumed him. They were just sad and haunted now.

'I need peace,' he whispered. 'Daughter …'

'Reyna!' Nico shouted again. His sword sliced through the last of the ghosts separating them. Julian vaporised at the touch of the Stygian iron, releasing Reyna.

'Are you okay?' Nico demanded.

Reyna nodded, not trusting her voice. She was shivering uncontrollably despite the strength that had just poured through her. Nico tried to grip her shoulder, but his hand passed right through. Reyna couldn't tell which of them had lost their form.

'Where's …' Nico's question faded as she appeared at last, standing serenely before them with her hands clasped around her white asphodel. Her smoky veil still obscured her face.

'That's her,' Reyna said.

Nico raised his sword, but the goddess was unfazed by the Stygian blade. She raised her flower above her head and let it drift from her long, slender fingers. It floated over to Reyna and Nico, leaving a trail of white petals behind it, exactly like the ones that had showered Camp Jupiter the previous week. They clung to Nico's sword, turning its black blade snowy white.

'Who are you?' Reyna asked.

Slowly, the goddess lifted her veil.

Her face was a shock. Reyna had expected it to be as dark as her hands—and indeed, one half of it was: a deep, midnight black that made Reyna think of galaxies and deep space. But the left half was chalk-white, which made her look as if she were wearing one of those Phantom of the Opera masks, except the two halves met seamlessly. Reyna couldn't well where one colour ended and the other began.

Nico gasped. 'I know you,' he said. 'I've seen you before, haven't I?'

Glowing amber eyes, reflective like a cat's, peered out of her paradoxical face, assessing them. She raised her hand, her ebony fingers uncurling towards Reyna as if inviting her to approach.

Reyna didn't take her up on it. 'Who is she?' she asked Nico.

'She's …' Nico screwed up his face. 'I'm not sure. She looks like … but that would make her Greek. And she didn't look exactly like this when I saw her before.' He turned to the goddess. 'Are you Melinoë?'

The goddess pursed her lips. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes briefly, and Reyna felt the air ripple around them like a sigh. She pointed at Reyna and touched her own throat.

She couldn't speak.

'D-Dea Tacita?' Reyna stammered.

The corners of the goddess's lips quirked upwards. It might have been a smile, a mischievous one that didn't really set Reyna's mind at ease. At the same time, she shook her head slightly, a gesture that might be disconfirming Reyna's statement. Her cat-like eyes remained firmly fixed on Reyna as she extended her hand again.

'I … I think I should take her hand,' Reyna said.

'Are you sure?'

She wasn't. She was terrified that the moment she touched the goddess, the same fading feeling that had seized her with her father's ghost would overcome her again, and this time she wouldn't be able to fight back.

But something in the goddess's eyes tugged at her heart. What must it be like to spend all eternity voiceless, unable to ask for help?

Something Nico had said to her before floated to the top of her mind: Your voice is your identity. If you don't use it, you're halfway to Asphodel.

Reyna looked at the asphodel petals piled about their feet and took a deep breath.

She reached out and met the goddess's hand.

She felt the goddess's hesitation through the touch of their skin. Reyna's sword and torch tattoo tingled. She could tell that the goddess sensed her power, wanted to use it. There was a magnetic pull, like her strength wanted to flow out to this being who craved it, but was barely holding back, like a weak dam against the tide. It was this hesitation, this tiny sign that the goddess would not just take, that reassured Reyna.

She imagined herself addressing her legion, her voice projecting across an assembly, and fed that image to the goddess.

The goddess's amber eyes widened. Her lips parted. 'Eυχαριστώ,' she said in a hoarse whisper.

'What?' Reyna said, bewildered. It sounded like Aphrodite's bistro or something equally nonsensical.

'She's thanking you,' Nico said. 'In Greek.' He frowned at the goddess. 'You're Greek.'

The goddess blinked and cocked her head to one side as though trying his comment on for size. Reyna squeezed her hand encouragingly, still letting her strength, her voice, flow out to her.

'Can you ask her to tell us who she is?' she asked Nico.

Nico translated.

The goddess closed her eyes briefly, then switched languages. 'I—' She formed her words slowly, as if each one were completely new. Which they probably were, if she hadn't spoken since the age of Greece. 'It has been a long time. I have not been named in eons. I … may have forgotten.' Her voice, hollow at first, mellowed with each sentence, becoming richer, more melodious.

Reyna considered this. 'Do you remember what was your domain?'

The goddess raised her free hand to her heart. 'Death,' she said solemnly. 'Blessed death. I brought peace to those who passed.' From her chest, she extended her hand, palm facing up, like a gift. Asphodel petals rained down on them again. She frowned at Reyna. 'There are restless spirits about you, spirits that seek peace.'

Reyna winced. The ghosts of her ancestors, her father the mania, were gone for now, but she could still sense them lurking. 'Have they—have you come for me?'

The goddess shook her head. 'I did not come to take. My role was always to give. But I have been forgotten for too long. If I am to return, I need …' Her finger trailed down her dark throat, as though what she was searching for had been lost in her years of voicelessness.

'You need help,' Nico said, giving Reyna a significant look. 'You're asking Reyna for help.'

'I …' The goddess clasped both her hands around Reyna's. 'Perhaps.'

Reyna swallowed. 'Why me, though? You're a Greek goddess—why choose a Roman demigod? And I didn't even believe in you when I saw your first signs.'

The goddess shrugged. 'But you responded to my silent call.' She walked her fingers up Reyna's forearm, to her SPQR tattoo, her bars of service, and the symbol of her mother. 'Daughter of Bellona. Praetor of Rome.' Her hand drifted to Reyna's shoulder and traced a line from it, as though lifting an invisible cape. 'Yet you bear the blessing and protection of a Greek goddess.'

'The Aegis of Athena,' Reyna whispered.

'This is not the first time you have been called upon to bridge two worlds. Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.' There was something powerful about the way she named Reyna. 'You have already lent me your strength. Find a way to bring my voice back to your world. And in return … I can bring peace to your spirits.'

The goddess released her and stepped away. The entire scene dissolved. Reyna felt herself falling along with the goddess's asphodel blossoms, drifting slowly through a black fog.

They met back in Jason's shack the next morning, where Reyna tried to explain the charge the silent goddess had laid upon her.

'She wants you to bring her voice to the world,' Jason said dubiously. 'But she could only talk when you held her hand.

Piper massaged her throat. 'It's figurative, duh. Unless you think she wants to do some fishy Little Mermaid thing. Er, no pun intended.'

'What?' Nico and Hazel said in unison.

'The Little Mermaid? Disney? Gave up her voice to a sea witch?'

'It was before their time,' Frank reminded her. 'But maybe you're on to something. The voice thing, I mean. What if she gave up her voice before, and that's why she faded away? Maybe we just have to find it and give it back.'

'I don't think that's it,' Nico said. He walked one of the Mythomagic figures up and down the edge of the desk. 'Bring my voice back, she said. I don't think she lost it. I think we did.'

Your voice is your identity, Reyna thought. Maybe that worked in reverse as well. The goddess's identity … was her voice. 'We need to figure out who she is,' she said. 'And then …' She gestured to the row of Mythomagic figures. 'We need to honour her, too.'

'Well,' Jason said, looking out at the new shrines popping up all over Temple Hill, 'she came to the right place.'

They got to work immediately. Hazel created a sketch of the goddess from Reyna and Nico's description, and she and Frank went through Jason's history books, comparing her to every picture or written description in the hope of finding a match. Jason and Piper researched the signs that had descended on Camp Jupiter, looking for goddesses who were related to them. That left Reyna and Nico to assess each possibility the others threw their way.

'I feel like the answer's closer than we think,' Nico said.

'You thought you knew her,' Reyna recalled. 'You called her Melinoë.'

Nico toyed absently with his Mythomagic figurine. 'Melinoë is the goddess of ghosts,' he said. 'She—well, she's not very nice. Even the Underworld daemons are scared of her. She would release them into the mortal world at night—ghosts, mania …'

At the word, Jason looked up, his face pale.

'What's wrong?' Reyna asked.

He shook his head. 'Nothing—just … nothing.'

Piper squeezed his arm. 'We ran into a mania in Ithaca.'

Jason nodded. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on the edge of his shirt. 'My—my mother.'

Something seemed to explode in the pit of Reyna's stomach. 'Your mother? But I thought …'

'I never really knew her,' Jason said. 'I mean, she abandoned me when I was a kid. When I found Thalia, she told me our mom had gone crazy and she'd died eventually in a car crash. But I guess that wasn't all of it. She … she's still a restless spirit. I warded her off in Ithaca—I sent her away. But I still wish … I wish I could've helped her.'

Reyna gaped at him. Every word he said reminded her of her own troubled relationship with her father. The secret she'd guarded so carefully all these years she'd been at Camp Jupiter. To learn now that Jason shared a similar experience …

Maybe if she'd opened up earlier, he might have understood.

Jason set his glasses back on his face. They magnified his electric-blue eyes, intensifying his serious gaze. 'What you said, about the goddess bringing peace to spirits … I was hoping she meant my mom.'

'Maybe she did,' Reyna said. 'Maybe she can help both of us.' And with an encouraging nod from Nico, she told them about the ghosts in her dreams, and the restless, wandering spirit of her father.

There was no judgement. In fact, the others all had stories to share as well. It was like they had unlocked the door of ghosts Nico had spoken of and let the spirits that haunted them pour forth into their midst. But shared among the six of them, the restless, attention-seeking spirits lost some of their power. Their mutual acceptance was like a blessing, embracing and protecting them from the greedy clutches of the dead.

A blessing …

Reyna wasn't sure who it hit first. Maybe they all reached the same conclusion simultaneously.

'That's her name,' she said. 'In Greek.'

Nico slapped a palm to his head. 'Makaria. Literally—that's Greek for "blessed." She told us who she was all along.'

Hazel scribbled the name under her drawing of the goddess and placed it in the centre of their circle. Nico touched the black and white contours of her face. 'She's Melinoë in reverse. If Melinoë fuels mania, maybe Makaria can reverse it.'

Reyna looked at Jason. The concern, the hope they still had for their wretched parents, passed between them.

'She knew we needed her,' Jason said. 'That's why she reached out to you.'

Reyna put her hand to her throat, mimicking the goddess—brave, silent Makaria. 'Let's give her back her voice.'

The temple was made of black stone, flanked by pillars of onyx with spiral carvings running up and down that revealed the white bands in the stone. It was guarded by a pair of marble cats with amber eyes. Whenever someone in New Rome lost a loved one, a dark fog would creep up over the temple, dissipating once they placed a sprig of asphodel upon the altar. There was usually a full bouquet of the white flower sitting in a vase on a shelf above the altar anyway, under a carved inscription in Greek and Latin: Makaria | Benedictus.

Today, there was someone sitting on the altar, cross-legged with her long, ebony fingers meeting on her knees, like she was meditating, or maybe doing yoga. An enigmatic smile played about her lips as she watched Reyna through half-closed eyes.

'My dreams have stopped,' Reyna said. 'I guess that means my dad …'

Makaria placed one finger to her lips and Reyna fell silent. The asphodel blossoms she had just laid before the altar incinerated in a plume of black smoke. When it dissipated, the white bands in the onyx pillars grew silvery, like a mirror, reflecting Reyna's face. Then her features changed, her cheeks hollowing, lines deepening in her forehead, her jaw thickening. Julian Ramírez-Arellano smiled at her gently.

Makaria reached out and took Reyna by the hand. The moment her skin touched the goddess's, she heard her father speak.

'I am at peace, daughter. Remember me as I was—not as I became.'

Reyna held the new image of her father in her mind, even after his reflection disappeared and the stone went back to normal.

'Thank you,' she whispered when Makaria released her.

'So that's her.' Jason and Hazel stepped across the threshold, their arms full of fresh asphodel. Piper and Frank hovered just behind, eyes wide with awe.

Makaria inclined her head.

Jason's jaw clenched. 'Is my mother …?'

Makaria extended her hands. With a nervous glance at Reyna, Jason stepped forward. Makaria cocked her head towards Hazel, who bit her lip before taking the goddess's other hand.

Reyna watched her friends' faces change as Makaria showed them the answer to their unspoken questions. A tear trickled down Hazel's cheek, but her lips curved into a smile. Behind his glasses, Jason's eyes were misty.

'Hold on to the good memories,' Makaria said. 'Even when you move on.'

Frank shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to another and cleared his throat. 'I just have one question,' he said. 'About Dea Tacita.'

'Ah.' Makaria's mysterious smile returned. 'You wish to know if we are one and the same.'

'Well, yes.'

She interlocked her fingers and brought them to her chin as if in prayer. 'I do not know,' she said finally. 'Maybe Dea Tacita was in all of us who lacked a voice. She represents all the goddesses who have been silenced and forgotten, and who need your help to find our voices.'

'We're working on it,' Jason promised. 'The Greeks and the Romans.'

Makaria spread her hands again. 'Or maybe she is still waiting to be found.' She winked one cat-like eye and just like that, she disappeared in a shower of asphodel petals.

'Huh,' Piper said. 'That clears things up.'

'I guess we'll never know if Ophelia's myth is true after all,' Hazel sighed.

'Maybe not,' Reyna said. 'But I guess there's only one way to find out.' She waved towards the new population of shrines on the hill. 'Come on. Let's go give back more voices.'

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A/N II: A big thank you to rinarraven for the beta job! And in advance to those of you with any feedback.

Not much is actually recorded about the goddess Dea Tacita or the possible identities Reyna and the others discuss for her, so I embellished a lot. Likewise, the Greek goddess Makaria doesn't have a lot written about her either (though she does get a mention in Percy Jackson's Greek Gods!)