I showed up in Van Nuys alone, quite proud of the fact that I had only four near-misses on the road. And as it would turn out, the drive was good for me. It gave me forty-five precious minutes to think. Don’t get me wrong. The memories that ran through my head sucked. But along with the horrors came bits of information that I had pushed aside in my self-pity.
Vital pieces of the puzzle I was trying so hard to put together. Like when Ares said he had a strong connection to Jonah. Or how Hades swore Jonah would be leading his armies before the next—what did he call it? A Panselene?
Thankfully, we live in a digital age. I had just crossed the town limits of Van Nuys when I spoke into my phone to get the answer I was looking for.
The mechanical female voice responded, “Panselene. The term w
