I took off the cap, and the pen grew longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. It was the first weapon that actually felt balanced in my hand.

“The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into,” Chiron told me. “Its name is Anaklusmos.”

“Riptide,” I translated, surprised the Ancient Greek came so easily.