“Well,” he said with a sigh, “it appears some of us do get happy endings.”

I think he was pleased for me, in his own way. At least, he tried to tamp down the bitterness in his voice. I couldn’t blame him for feeling salty.

My punishment was over, yet his continued. A hundred years compared to my six months.

To be honest, though, I could no longer consider my time on Earth to have been a punishment. Terrible, tragic, nearly impossible…yes. But calling it a punishment gave Zeus too much credit. It had been a journey—an important one I made myself, with the help of my friends. I hoped…I believed that the grief and pain had shaped me into a better person. I had forged a more perfect Lester from the dregs of Apollo. I would not trade those experiences for anything. And if I had been told I had to be Lester for another hundred years…well, I could think of worse things. At least I wouldn’t be expected to show up at the Olympian solstice meetings.

“You will have your happy ending, Brother,” I told Dionysus.

He studied me. “You speak as the god of prophecy?”

“No.” I smiled. “Just as someone with faith.”

“Surely not faith in our father’s wisdom.”

I laughed. “Faith in our ability to write our own stories, regardless of what the Fates throw at us. Faith that you will find a way to make wine out of your sour grapes.”

“How deep,” Dionysus muttered, though I detected a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. He gestured to his game table. “Pinochle, perhaps? At that, at least, I know I can dominate you.”

I stayed with him that afternoon, and he won six games. He only cheated a little.

Before dinner, I teleported to the Grove of Dodona, deep within the camp’s forest.

Just as before, the ancient trees whispered in a cacophony of voices—snatches of riddles and songs, bits of doggerel (some of it actually about dogs), recipes, and weather reports, none of it making much sense. Brass wind chimes twisted in the branches, reflecting the evening light and catching every breeze.

“Hello!” I called. “I came to thank you!”

The trees continued to whisper, ignoring my presence.

“You gave me the Arrow of Dodona as my guide!” I continued.

I detected a tittering of laughter among the trees.

“Without the arrow,” I said, “my quest would have failed. It sacrificed itself to defeat Python. Truly, it was the greatest in all the grove!”

If the trees could have made a screechy rewind noise, I’m sure they would have. Their whispering died away. The brass chimes hung lifeless in the branches.

“Its wisdom was invaluable,” I said. “Its sacrifice noble. It represented you with honor. I will certainly tell this grove’s guardian, my grandmother Rhea, all about its great service. She will hear what you did—that when I needed aid, you sent your best.”

The trees began whispering again, more nervously this time. Wait. Wait, we didn’t…What?

I teleported away before they could see me smile. I hoped that wherever its spirit was, my friend the arrow was having a laugh worthy of a Shakespearean comedy.

That night, after the campfire, I sat watching the embers burn down with Nico, Will, and Rachel.

The boys sat comfortably next to each other, Will’s arm around Nico’s shoulder, as the son of Hades twirled a burnt marshmallow on a stick. Next to me, Rachel hugged her knees and stared contentedly at the stars, the dying fire reflecting in her red hair like a charging herd of tauri silvestres.

“Everything’s working again,” she told me, tapping the side of her head. “The visions are clear. I can paint. I’ve issued a couple of prophecies already. No more snake poison in my mind. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “And your parents’ destroyed house?”

She laughed. “Turned out to be a good thing. Before, my dad had wanted me to stay around here in the fall. Now, he says maybe it’s a good idea if I do what I wanted to begin with. Gonna take a gap year in Paris to study art while they rebuild the house.”

“Oh, Paris!” Will said.

Rachel grinned. “Right? But don’t worry, I’ll be back here next summer to dish out more oracular awesomeness.”

“And if we need you in the meantime,” Nico said, “there’s always shadow-travel.”

Will sighed. “I’d love to think you’re suggesting a date night in Paris, Mr. Dark Lord. But you’re still thinking about Tartarus, aren’t you? Hoping for some prophetic guidance?”

Nico shrugged. “Unfinished business…”

I frowned. It seemed like so long ago they had mentioned this to me—Nico’s compulsion to explore the depths of Tartarus, the voice he had heard, calling for help.

I didn’t want to open fresh wounds, but I asked as gently as I could, “You’re sure it’s not…Jason?”

Nico picked at his blackened marshmallow. “I won’t lie. I’ve wondered about that. I’ve thought about trying to find Jason. But, no, this isn’t about him.” He snuggled a little closer to Will. “I have a sense that Jason made his choice. I wouldn’t be honoring his sacrifice if I tried to undo it. With Hazel…She was just drifting in Asphodel. I could tell she wasn’t supposed to be there. She needed to come back. With Jason, I have a feeling he’s somewhere better now.”

“Like Elysium?” I wondered. “Rebirth?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Nico admitted.

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I’m clueless about after-death matters. But if it’s not Jason you’re thinking about…?”

Nico twirled his s’more stick. “When I was in Tartarus the first time, somebody helped me. And I—we left him down there. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Should I be jealous?” Will asked.

“He’s a Titan, dummy,” Nico said.

I sat up straight. “A Titan?”

“Long story,” Nico said. “But he’s not a bad guy. He’s…Well, I feel like I should look for him, see if I can figure out what happened. He might need my help. I don’t like it when people are overlooked.”

Rachel bunched up her shoulders. “Hades wouldn’t mind you traipsing down to Tartarus?”

Nico laughed without humor. “He’s expressly forbidden it. After that business with the Doors of Death, he doesn’t want anybody in Tartarus ever again. That’s where the troglodytes come in. They can tunnel anywhere, even there. They can get us in and out safely.”

“Safely being a relative term,” Will noted, “given that the whole idea is bonkers.”

I frowned. I still didn’t like the idea of my sunshiny son skipping off into the land of monster nightmares. My recent tumble to the edge of Chaos had reminded me what a terrible travel destination it was. Then again, it wasn’t my place to tell demigods what to do, especially those I loved the most. I didn’t want to be that kind of god anymore.

“I wish I could offer you help,” I said, “but I’m afraid Tartarus is outside my jurisdiction.”

“It’s okay, Dad,” Will said. “You’ve done your part. No story ever ends, does it? It just leads into others.” He laced his fingers through Nico’s. “We’ll handle whatever comes next. Together. With or without a prophecy—”