---

We walk into the old room, leaving footprints in the dust behind us.
"Hello? Thersites?" We hear a thunk in a back room, then see a form float towards us.
"Ah! Mark! How wonderful to see you! Are these your girlfriends? Rather dull if you ask me. What are you doing here? It's been forever since we've seen one another!" Girlfriends? Dull? "Ther-" "And how tall you are now! And muscular!" "Thersite-" "And the hair! Almost as good as my friend Tennant." "THERSITES!" Mark yells. "Yes?" "Shutup." "Oh, yes. My apologies. I can stop talking whenever I feel like it. Just say when and I'll shutup as quick as shadow-travel for sure." Still babbling nonsense, Thersites led us into his room, which was surprisingly modern. "Sit, sit. I'll be right back!" He says over his shoulder in a singsong voice. I whisper to Mark "Who is this guy?" "Thersites? He was the ugliest Greek soldier. Also and endless talker. He was there at Ilium in the horse." "The Trojan Horse?" "Yeah." "And why do you know him?" His head drops and his eyes cloud over, as if to hide something. Just then, Thersites reappears with a tray in his ghostly hands and sets it on the glass coffee table. "Nectar. Obviously you guys have been busy. Hopefully not too busy, if you know what I mean," he grins. "THERSITES," Mark interjects. "Sorry. Sorry. My bad. I shouldn't get involved with your personal lives. Why are you here, anyway?" As Mark, and occasionally Danielle, begin to tell Thersites about our quest, I stand up from the black leather couch and decide to snoop around a little. The dark, heavy curtains separating his room from the rest of the attic was the dividing line between super dirty and super clean. (I guess ghosts don't really make messes.) I walk over the the east side of the room, curious about the crates. I try and read what's written on the side, but the boards had dry-rotted too much. I flip a knife into my hands and carefully use the blade to pry open the lid. Nothing. I dig through the straw, looking for anything that might still be in there.

My feet almost off the floor, I kept digging through the box. "Whoa!" I lot my balance and landed hard onto my back into the box. "Hey!" I shout, because it was now totally dark. "Hello?" I feel around, scraping the boards on the floor and gaining a splinter, running my hands through the hay. I blink a few times, trying to find a sliver of light. Absolutely nothing. Zilch. Nada. My fingers bump into a small, cold object. I can't see what it is, but I pick it up an pocket it.
I then rub my hands on my back, where I can already feel a bruise forming. I try to stand, using the sides of the crate for support. I stand on my tip toes, hands barely reaching the top of the box. Am I blind? No. No, no, no, no, no. That can't be. "Danielle?" I call pitifully. I'm scared now. I don't hear anything but Thersites idle chatter and words I can't make out. Through the blackness of my sight, I see something. A red flower, floating on fire. A red lotus on the Phlegethon. I hear a woman's voice in my head, telling me to find the flower or endure eternal punishment. "The Flower of Asphodel is not what you think," she said. What I believed was her stepped up to the banks of the river, and scooped up the flower, morphing it into something else. She tossed it towards me, it still changing even as it enveloped my own face.
I put my hands on my head, pulling and tearing at it, though it was only psychological.

---

I woke on Thersites' couch, Danielle's face not 5 inches from mine.
"She's awake!" Danielle yells directly in my ear. "Now I am," I say groggily, trying to sit up. Mark looks up and sees me struggling. He moves over and helps me up gently by placing his hand on the back of my head. "Thanks," I mumble. He gives me a small smile, and steps back. "How many fingers am I holding up?" says Danielle, and I answer with "two." "Good! You're okay. What happened?" "I don't know. I was looking through a crate, when I lost my balance and fell in on my back. Everything was dark," I shudder, "and then I saw a red lotus flower in the Phlegethon." I proceeded to tell them about the warnings and the woman, holding back the part about the morphing flower covering my face. "I see," said Thersites. "This is a job for my friend Chalchas! CHALCHAS!!!!" He yells so loud I need to cover my ears. Another ghost appears besides Thersites, looking and sounding much better then our host. "Yes, Thersites? What is it?" "This young demigod has gotten herself in quite a pickle. She went blind and saw some things, and maybe you'd care to interpret them? Please, please, pleaseee?" "I suppose," he said, rather resigned. Holding his hand out to me, he introduced himself. "Chalchas, son of Thestor, seer and interpreter of omens. Are you are?" "Haley Kingsley," I say and shake his wispy hand. "Daughter of Hera." "My, my. Well that now complicates things, does it not?" Thersites nodded furiously in agreement. "Yes, yes it does. Now Haley, what have you done lately? Pulled a muscle? Didn't sleep? Had contact with a monster?" "Uh, well, I did get sprayed with some Dracanae blood earlier." Danielle cocked an eyebrow at this. "Did it get in your mouth?" I maneuver my tongue in my mouth, remembering the disgusting taste. "Yeah, it did. I spit it out asap though." Everybody's faces turned to a mix of disgust and worry. Chalchas was the first to speak. "At least it was one of the lesser poisons a demigod could accidentally take. Thank the gods it wasn't Empousa." "So, what does it mean? That I've tasted monster blood?" "Well," Danielle starts, "normally if you don't catch it early enough, your blood starts to clot from dehydration, have random muscle spasms, and eventually seize to the point of death." "Well, that would've been fun, right?" I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Then I can notice a small shift in the air. I look towards Chalchas, and see his dark, hollow eyes narrow at me. I squirm under all the attention, and try to stand. Immediately I start to wobble, and would've fallen through the glass table if Mark hadn't caught me. "Whoa, there. Don't get up so fast." He gently sits me down and then sits with me. "May I talk to Haley, alone, if you please?" said Chalchas. "Sure thing, Chas! We'll just look around the library for a bit on whatever these two think they need to know about before they continue on their way. right guys?" "Yeah! Sounds fun to me!" Mark nods his head and strides over to Thersites and Danielle. "Don't take long," Mark says, his voice low. "'Kay." Taking a cautious look at both me and Chalchas, he turns and leaves.

"You're holding something back, Haley. I know it." Chalchas says, as he does the ghost form of pacing. Hovering over the floor, over the coffee table, over to the other side and back again. I say nothing. "Just tell me, Haley. I can interpret whatever it is you aren't telling me." Knowing that I could sit here forever and Chalchas wouldn't give up, I tell him. "When the woman picked up the red lotus flower, it morphed and churned and glided towards my face, and for a moment, I could see another face within it. Then it enveloped my face, and nothing was there. It was all in my head." Having said it, I felt both better and worse at the same time. As he pondered the sign and what it meant, I put my hands behind my head and leaned down, trying to think straight.

Chalchas counted on his fingers, made different facial expressions, and wrote in the air.
I watched him curiously for a moment, right before he turned and faced me.
"Keeping in context with what the woman said, I believe that your Flower of Asphodel is not an actual flower." I sat there, stunned. "Then what is it?" "Have you ever heard of Valerie Fleur?"

Notes

Didn't expect that, did you? xD

What's up with Mark?
Who's the woman at the river of fire?

Find out soon! :D