BRIAR TUMBLED IN the sky. Far below she saw city lights glimmering in the early dawn, and several hundred yards away the body of the bronze dragon spinning out of control, its wings limp, fire flickering in its mouth like a badly wired lightbulb.

Her body shot down, down, down, and she saw Leo briefly reach for the clouds in the sky. That should've been her priority, to touch the clouds, but it was too late for that now.

She instinctively extended her arms and legs, looking like a bird as she plummeted down. This severely reminded her of just yesterday when she'd fallen into the lake at camp, and down the Grand Canyon. Man, she had a serious track record for falling.

"I'm a bird!" Briar grinned. "Wee!"

Thump! Someone — or someones — collided with her.

"Ow, that fucking hurt!" Briar yelled. "I was a bird! And now I'm a dead bird!"

"Shut up!" Jason said to her. "You're not dead yet!"

"Oh, fuckin' wonderful," she muttered.

Then, she heard an explosion below them. A fireball rolled into the sky from behind a warehouse complex, and she heard Leo sob, "Festus!"

Jason's face reddened with strain as he tried to maintain an air cushion beneath them, but intermittent slow-downs were the best he could manage. Rather than free-falling, it felt like they were bouncing down a giant staircase, a hundred feet at a time, which wasn't doing Briar's stomach any favors.

As they wobbled and zigzagged, she could make out details of the factory complex below — warehouses, smokestacks, barbed-wire fences, and parking lots lined with snow-covered vehicles. They were still high enough so that hitting the ground would flatten them into roadkill — or skykill — when Jason groaned, "I can't—"

And they dropped like stones.

They hit the roof of the largest warehouse and crashed through into darkness.

Briar tried to roll but was too late, mostly because she was thinking about birds. Her feet didn't like that. Pain flared in her left ankle as she crumpled against a cold metal surface.

For a few seconds she wasn't conscious of anything but pain — pain so bad that her ears rang and her vision went red.

Then she heard Jason's voice somewhere below, echoing through the building. "Briar! Where's Briar?"

"Ow, Jas!" Leo groaned. "That's my back! I'm not a sofa! Briar, where'd you go?"

"That's what you get for fucking crashing into me in the fucking air!" Briar called, then she let out a whimper of pain. "Fucking hell."

She heard shuffling and grunting, then feet pounding on metal steps.

Her vision began to clear. She was on a metal catwalk that ringed the warehouse interior. Leo and Jason had landed on ground level, and were now coming up the stairs toward her. She looked at her foot, and wave of nausea swept over her. Her toes weren't supposed to point that way, were they?

Oh, god. She forced herself to look away before she threw up. Focus on something else. Anything else.

The hole they'd made in the roof was a ragged starburst twenty feet above. How they'd even survived that drop, she had no idea. Hanging from the ceiling, a few electric bulbs flickered dimly, but they didn't do much to light the enormous space. Next to Briar, the corrugated metal wall was emblazoned with a company logo, but it was almost completely spray-painted over with graffiti. Down in the shadowy warehouse, she could make out huge machines, robotic arms, half-finished trucks on an assembly line. The place looked like it had been abandoned for years.

Jason and Leo reached her side.

Leo started to ask, "You okay . . . ?" Then he saw her foot. "Oh no, you're not."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Briar groaned.

"You'll be fine," Jason said, though she could hear the worry in his voice. "Leo, you got any first aid supplies?"

"Yeah — yeah, sure." He dug around in his tool belt and pulled out a wad of gauze and a roll of duct tape — both of which seemed too big for the belt's pockets. Briar had noticed the tool belt yesterday morning, but she hadn't thought to ask Leo about it. It didn't look like anything special — just one of those wraparound leather aprons with a bunch of pockets, like a blacksmith or a carpenter might wear. And it seemed to be empty.

"How did you—" Briar tried to sit up, and winced. "How did pull that stuff from an empty belt?"

"Magic," Leo said. "Haven't figure it out completely, but I can summon just about any regular tool out of the pockets, plus some other helpful stuff." He reached into another pocket and pulled out a little tin box. "Breath mint?"

"Please," Briar reached out for one.

Jason snatched away the mints before she could take one. "That's great, Leo. Now, can you fix her foot?"

"I'm a mechanic, man. Maybe if she was a car . . ." He snapped his fingers. "Wait, what was that godly healing stuff they fed you at camp — Rambo food?"

"Ambrosia, dummy," Briar said through gritted teeth. "There should be some in my bag, if it's not crushed."

Jason pulled her backpack off her shoulders. He rummaged through the supplies the Aphrodite kids had packed for her, and found a Ziploc full of smashed pastry squares like lemon bars. He broke off a piece and fed it to her.

The taste was nothing like she expected, yet she expected it at the same time. Pasta from an Italian restaurant. The memory relaxed her, though it made her sad. The pain in her ankle subsided.

"More," she said.

Jason frowned. "Briar, we shouldn't risk it. They said too much could burn you up. I think I should try to set your foot."

"I'm already hot all of the time," she rolled her eyes. "But fine, break my foot again."

Leo found an old piece of wood and broke it in half for a splint. Then he got the gauze and duct tape ready.

"Hold her leg still," Jason told him. "Briar, this is going to hurt."

When Jason set the foot, Briar flinched so hard she punched Leo in the arm, and he yelled almost as much as she did. When her vision cleared and she could breathe normally again, she found that her foot was pointing the right way, her ankle splinted with plywood, gauze, and duct tape.

"Ow," she said.

"Jeez, Briar Rose!" Leo rubbed his arm. "Glad my face wasn't there."

"Sorry," she said. "And don't call me 'Briar Rose' or I'll punch you again. Fuck Sleeping Beauty."

"You both did great." Jason found a canteen in Briar's pack and gave her some water. After a few minutes, her stomach began to calm down.

Once she wasn't screaming in pain, she could hear the wind howling outside. Snowflakes fluttered through the hole in the roof, and after their meeting with Khione, snow was the last thing Briar wanted to see.

"What happened to the dragon?" she asked. "Where are we?"

Leo's expression turned sullen. "I don't know with Festus. He just jerked sideways like he hit an invisible wall and started to fall."

Briar remembered Enceladus's warning: I'll show you how easily your ambitious spirit can be brought to earth. Had he managed to strike them down from so far away? It seemed impossible. If he were that powerful, why would he need her to betray her friends when he could just kill them himself? And how could the giant be keeping an eye on her in a snowstorm thousands of miles away?

Leo pointed to the logo on the wall. "As far as where we are . . ." It was hard to see through the graffiti, but Briar could make out a large red eye with the stenciled words: monocle motors, assembly plant 1.

"Closed car plant," Leo said. "I'm guessing we crash-landed in Detroit."

Briar had heard about closed car plants in Detroit, so that made sense. But it seemed like a pretty depressing place to land. "How far is that from Chicago?"

Jason handed her the canteen. "Maybe three-fourths of the way from Quebec? The thing is, without the dragon, we're stuck traveling overland."

"No way," Leo said. "It isn't safe."

Briar thought about the way the ground had pulled at her feet in the dream, and what King Boreas had said about the earth yielding up more horrors. "He's right. Besides, I don't know if I can walk. And three people — Jason, you can't fly that many across country by yourself."

"No way," Jason said. "Leo, are you sure the dragon didn't malfunction? I mean, Festus is old, and—"

"And I might not have repaired him right?"

"I didn't say that," Jason protested. "It's just — maybe you could fix it."

"I don't know." Leo sounded crestfallen. He pulled a few screws out of his pockets and started fiddling with them. "I'd have to find where he landed, if he's even in one piece."

"It was my fault." Briar blurted. She just couldn't stand it anymore. The secret about her girlfriend was heating up inside her like too much ambrosia. If she kept lying to her friends, she felt like she'd burn to ashes.

"Bri," Jason said gently, "you were asleep when Festus conked out. It couldn't be your fault."

"Yeah, you're just shaken up," Leo agreed. He didn't even try to make a joke at her expense. "You're in pain. Just rest."

She wanted to tell them everything, but the words stuck in her throat. They were both being so kind to her. Yet if Enceladus was watching her somehow, saying the wrong thing could get Reyna killed.

Leo stood. "Look, um, Jason, why don't you stay with her, bro? I'll scout around for Festus. I think he fell outside the warehouse somewhere. If I can find him, maybe I can figure out what happened and fix him."

"It's too dangerous," Jason said. "You shouldn't go by yourself. I don't want you to be alone."

"Ah, I got duct tape and breath mints. I'll be fine," Leo said, a little too quickly, and Briar realized he was a lot more shaken up than he was letting on. Or he had the hots for Jason, because she could see the slight dust of pink. "You guys just don't run off without me."

Leo reached into his magic tool belt, pulled out a flashlight, and headed down the stairs, leaving Briar and Jason alone.

She turned to Jason, who was staring at the direction where Leo had left.

"You like him," she said. "You like Leo Valdez."

"Don't say it so loud," he hissed.

Briar laughed giddily, and it was a little too hysterical for comfort. "The stoic, tough Jason Grace likes Leo. The class clown of the bunch."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Why is it that when you're teasing me you seem to look more lively?" He looked over at her.

"It's because it gives me life, teasing you," she said.

She looked down at herself. Her jeans were tattered from the fall through the roof. Her boots were splattered with melted dirty snow. Her jacket wasn't its pretty white color anymore. She didn't know what her face looked like, but it probably looked like a nightmare. And as long as she didn't move her ankle, the pain wasn't bad. "You did a good job," she told Jason. "Where'd you learn first aid?"

He shrugged. "Same answer as always. I don't know."

"But you're starting to have some memories, aren't you? I've been getting some. Mostly of Reyna. Duh, she's my girlfriend."

"It's fuzzy," he said. "Like deja vu. I barely remember anything. I think I had one of a fight we had."

A best friend that you wronged, Enceladus had said. Is that more important than your own girlfriend?

She didn't want to speak about that. But there was something else that Briar wanted to talk about.

"That photo in your pocket," she said. "Is that someone we knew? I don't recognize her."

Jason pulled back.

"I'm sorry," she said. "None of my business. Forget it."

"No — it's okay." His features relaxed. "Just, I'm trying to figure things out. Her name's Thalia. She's my sister. I don't remember any details. I'm not even sure how I know."

"That's great," Briar sent him a smile. "Annabeth told me she became a Hunter of Artemis, right?"

Jason nodded. "I get the feeling I'm supposed to find her. Hera left me that memory for a reason. It's got something to do with this quest. But . . . I also have the feeling it could be dangerous. I'm not sure I want to find out the truth. Is that crazy?"

"No," Briar said. "Not at all."

She stared at the logo on the wall: monocle motors, the single red eye. Something about that logo bothered her.

Maybe it was the idea Enceladus was watching her, holding her Reyna for leverage. She had to save her, but how could she betray her friends?

"Jason," she said. "Speaking of the truth, I need to tell you something — something about Reyna—"

She didn't get the chance. Somewhere below, metal clanged against metal, like a door slamming shut. The sound echoed through the warehouse.

Jason stood. He took out his coin and flipped it, snatching his golden sword out of the air. He peered over the railing. "Leo?" he called.

No answer.

He crouched next to Briar. "I don't like this."

"He could be in trouble," she said. "Go check."

"I can't leave you alone."

"I'll be fine." She felt terrified, but she wasn't about to admit it. She drew her dagger and her knife. "Anyone gets close, I'll skewer them."

Jason hesitated. "I'll leave you the pack. If I'm not back in five minutes—"

"Panic?" she suggested.

He managed a smile. "I'm glad you're here, Bri."

"Get going, Lover Boy, before I skewer you."

"Lover Boy?"

"I told you, you're a simp for Leo," Briar rolled her eyes. "Go see if he needs any saving."

He didn't respond to that. He made his way to the stairs and disappeared into the dark.

Briar counted her breaths, trying to gauge how much time had passed. She lost track at around forty-three. Then something in the warehouse went bang!

The echo died. Briar's heart pounded, but she didn't call out. Her instincts told her it might not be a good idea.

She stared at her splinted ankle. It's not like she can run. Then she looked up again at the Monocle Motors sign. A little voice in her head pestered her, warning of danger. Something from Greek mythology . . .

Her hand went to her backpack. She took out the ambrosia squares. Too much would burn her up, but would a little more fix her ankle?

Boom. The sound was closer this time, directly below her. She dug out a whole square of ambrosia and stuffed it in her mouth. Her heart raced faster. Her skin felt feverish.

Hesitantly, she flexed her ankle against the splint. No pain, no stiffness at all. She cut through the duct tape with her dagger and heard heavy steps on the stairs — like metal boots.

Had it been five minutes? Longer? The steps didn't sound like Jason, but maybe he was carrying Leo. Finally she couldn't stand it. Gripping her dagger and her knife, she called out, "Jason?"

"Yeah," he said from the darkness. "On my way up."

Definitely Jason's voice. So why did all her instincts say Run?

With effort, she got to her feet.

The steps came closer.

"It's okay," Jason's voice promised.

At the top of the stairs, a face appeared out of the darkness — a hideous black grin, a smashed nose, and a single bloodshot eye in the middle of his forehead.

"It's fine," the Cyclops said, in a perfect imitation of Jason's voice. "You're just in time for dinner."