The brightness wasn’t the only thing I’d forgotten. As I scan the space around me—the long, impressive, intimidating hall leading from the main gates to the Hall of Gods—it’s like I never left. Every surface is carved from the purest white marble, the kind that can only be quarried from the bowels of Hades, and inlaid with every color of glittering gemstone imaginable. Bloodred rubies, sea-blue sapphires, and grass-green emeralds. Pearly opals, golden topaz, and bright purple amethyst. And every carving, every inlay, every spot that looks like it could use a little shine, is gilded with twenty-four-karat gold. It’s a treasure hunter’s dream.

Since the day my parents got banished from Olympus, and me along with them, I’ve imagined this moment. I pictured myself brought to tears—a rare thing for me—or seething with fury or raging with disgust. But never once did I imagine what I’m actually feeling. As I stare around at the palace that used to be my home, I feel . . . joy.

4

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by the happy memories. Until the Incident, my childhood was a happy one, filled with fun and games and plenty of adventure.

My dad and Griffin’s mom both worked for Zeus, which is why we got to live in his palace. It was a rare opportunity.

As the only hematheos children allowed on Olympus at the time, we spent a lot of time amusing ourselves and each other.

One of my favorite games was the scavenger hunt. We would steal two baskets of eggs from the palace kitchen—one gold and one silver. Griffin would hide the silver ones, I would hide the golden ones, and then we would race to see who found all their eggs first.

This game made us equals. While Griffin could win the footraces and I almost always outclimbed him, in the scavenger hunts we were equally matched. Griffin ran faster, covering ground more quickly. But I was more devious. My hiding places were almost impossible to find, unless he knew where to look. On more than one occasion, even I forgot where I’d hidden the eggs and we had to join forces to find the last few long after I’d filled my silver basket with his eggs.

I’m sure there are still some hidden away.