It made slurping sounds as it drank. Its ghostly hands scooped french fries out of the pool. When it stood again, I could see it much more clearly—a teenage guy in Greek armor. He had curly hair and green eyes, a clasp shaped like a seashell on his cloak. “Who are you?” Nico said. “Speak.” The young man frowned as if trying to remember. Then he spoke in a voice like dry, crumpling paper: “I am Theseus.”