But for now I have myself and my sisters to look out for. There are bigger things at stake. We need to figure out this situation before things get worse, before this—I shudder—war comes.

“Why?” I ask, swallowing my emotion. “Why does everyone want us dead?”

“Not everyone,” she says with a sympathetic smile. Then she answers my question. “Each side has its own motives. Those who wish to see you fail before the seal is broken—they believe they are acting for the greater good.”

“The greater good?” I echo. “I don’t see how killing us does anyone any good.”

Ms. West laughs. “Good and bad, right and wrong, are not so easily defined in our world.” She sighs. “Those who believe they act with righteous intent, who believe they act to protect both humankind and residents of Olympus, are all the more dangerous for their conviction.”

Just because they think they’re doing the right thing doesn’t make them right.

“What about the other side?” I ask. “The one that wants us dead after?”

“That side acts with a more selfish goal,” she explains, “though they believe themselves just as righteous as their opponents. They seek the freedom of monsterkind, a population that has been imprisoned and marginalized for millennia. It is a very complicated and emotion-driven dispute, on both sides.”

I let all of this news sink in: the war and the factions and the players on each side who I used to believe existed only in myth. And all of them ultimately wanting me and my sisters dead. It’s pretty overwhelming.

“Doesn’t anyone want us to live?” I blurt. “Isn’t there anyone who wants us to succeed and live long, happy lives?”

Not that I expect her to say, Nope. Sorry. You’re out of luck. But the last thing I expect is for Ms. West to get up, walk around her desk, and pull me up into a tight hug.

“Yes,” she says against my hair. “Yes, of course we do.”

“Who?” I demand, pulling back. “So far it sounds like everyone wants us dead either before or after the seal is broken.”

“Euryale and I are determined to see you succeed,” she says adamantly. “I believe she was trying to discover more about who is on each side when she was taken. And there are others. They work in secret and at great personal risk to pave the way for your triumph. If the gods on either side caught wind of anyone working against them, the consequences would be severe....”

Her voice kind of trails off, like the sum total of everything that’s happened in the last two weeks has just added up in her brain. Join the club.

At least I feel a little more reassured. My sisters and I may be caught in the middle of a brewing war, but at least we aren’t working alone.

Suddenly she steps back.

“I need to go.”

“What?” I gasp. “No, we need to talk.”

She looks at me and gives me a true smile. “Yes, we do. All of us.” She grabs her purse off the floor. “But first, I need to seek some answers. Can you meet after school?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“And your sisters?” she asks. “Gretchen and Greer, those are their names?”

“Yes,” I say. “I think they can be there too. I’ll text them.”

We agree on a place and time, a coffee shop in Union Square where the sheer volume of tourists and shoppers will give us some much-needed anonymity.

I stand and yank my backpack onto my shoulder. I give Ms. West—Sthenno—a shaky smile. She lifts her palms to my cheeks and cups my face.

“I am relieved to have the whole truth out in the open between us, Grace.” She leans forward and kisses first one cheek, then the other. “Trust that we will get through this. And know that my sister Euryale and I and others are working to ensure your success.”

I want to believe her, but all this talk of war and factions and people I’ve never even met wanting me and my sisters and the rest of my family dead is a little unnerving. My fear must show, because she drops her hands to my shoulders and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

“This is your destiny,” she says. “Fate has a way of working out in the end.”

As I walk out of her office, I try to think positively. I focus on her steadfast assurance that we’ll survive and succeed in this upcoming battle.

But there’s a little niggle of doubt at the back of my mind that says fate also has a way of playing tricks on the players. Sometimes there are unanticipated twists and turns. I just have to tell myself that Gretchen, Greer, and I will be able to hold on tight for the ride. Three times the strength. Three times the chance of success.

And, my doubts can’t help adding, three times the chance of failure.

As I blend into the stream of before-school students, I try to focus on the day ahead. Answers will have to wait until our afternoon meeting.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Gretchen and Greer on my way to homeroom.

Coffee with Sthenno at four at the Grindery in Union Square.

“Texting home to mommy?” my archenemy Miranda taunts as we walk into class at the same time.

I’m so over being intimidated by her.

“Suck a lemon, Sanders,” I say, repeating my friend Vail’s favorite shutdown.

I fall into my seat, drop my bag on the floor, and realize that all the stress and exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours have just caught up with me. I feel like passing out.

“Lulu told me you grew a pair,” Vail says from across the aisle.