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Chapter Text

The senate meeting was about to start when the doors swung open to admit three old women. Reyna blinked then glanced at Percy when he let out an exasperated sigh. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Percy said, “Hello again.”

This caused Reyna to look at Frank and Hazel who were sitting with the other senators, both looking confused, So they don’t know them, interesting, Reyna thought. 

“Hello, Perseus Jackson,” one said.

“We do apologize for this,” another said.

“It had to be done, however, to stop an unnecessary war and well, if Hera can interfere so can we,” the third finished.

“What had to be done?” Reyna finally found her voice, horribly confused and trying to remember who Hera was, Reyna could swear she had heard that name somewhere before.

“This,” the third old woman waved her hand and several books appeared in front of Reyna.

“What are those, and who are you? Greeks? They’re Greeks! This is a trick by Jackson. We’re going to die!” Octavian yelled, making Reyna’s eye twitch slightly. 

“By books?” Percy asked calmly, “I doubt the fates would kill us all with books.”

The entire senate erupted into whispers at that.

“-fates-”

“Is he serious-”

“-can’t be happening-”

“-no-”

“Praetor-”

“Reyna-”

“-lying Reyna-”

“Quiet,” one of the old ladies called softly, her voice somehow echoing throughout the roofless building. 

“Perseus is correct,” the middle one continued.

“We are the fates, neither Greek or Roman Octavian,” the third one finished.

“What are these? What are we supposed to do, my ladies?” Reyna questioned, placing her hands on the books.

“Read them,” all three ladies answered at once as they faded away leaving a glowing page of reminders and instructions in Percy’s hand.

He looked at Reyna and raised an eyebrow while lifting the page in silent question. Reyna nodded her head then settled down into the chair behind her so her legs would not become sore standing so long.

“Right,” Percy called, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the cacophony the senators were making. Reyna noted the only two who did not seem scared or angry were Hazel and Frank. Sure, they were looking at Percy in confusion and what seemed like worry but that was it, no yelling or demanding of answers just staring waiting for Percy to continue. “The note says we are to read all the books in order, no skipping or changing anything,” Percy started, glancing for a second at Octavian as he read. Reyna hid her smirk behind her hand, pretending to be focused on the instructions. 

“Time outside will be frozen, but please be as quick as possible, we were not able to freeze the gods and we do not need them noticing we’ve done this. No violence of any kind or we will take matters into our own hands,” again Percy’s eyes flicked to Octavian, who thankfully didn’t notice as he was busy glaring at Reyna. 

“And finally, there is a price that comes from the books, so be prepared Perseus,” pausing, he took a deep breath and muttered, “Oh, gods,” as he put the paper down. 

“Well, I suppose we should start,” turning to look at the rest of the senators as Percy took his seat, Reyna said, ”If none of you mind I will start.”

Picking up the green book with the roman numeral one on it she started, “Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, Chapter one, I Accidently Vaporise My Pre-Algebra Teacher.”

Chapter Text

Ch. 2 - Demon Teachers

Percy stared up at the broken dome roof of the senate building wondering how his life came to this. Though, he supposed, he was about to hear how. The fates said this could stop a war, and while Percy was all for stopping war before it could take any more of his friends, did it have to be this way?

Fortunately, or perhaps it was unfortunate, his thoughts were interrupted by Reyna’s voice.

LOOK. I DIDN’T WANT TO BE A HALF-BLOOD.

“You what! How dare you, ungrateful Graecus,” Octavian shrieked.

Reyna closed her eyes for a minute taking a quiet, deep breath, Percy could already tell they were going to have horrible headaches by the end of this. 

“Octavian,” Reyna said evenly, betraying no emotion, “That was only the first sentence, if you interrupt after every sentence, we will never get through all seven books. Please try to keep your comments to yourself.”

Octavian sat back in his seat, scowling like a toddler put in time-out.

If you’re reading this because you . . . try to lead a normal life.

Octavian opened his mouth, only to get hit in the head with a granola bar. He sat up and looked around furious as Percy silently laughed. Thankfully, Reyna pretended not to see what had just occurred and swiftly moved on.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. . . .  that none of this ever happened.

“Why would mortals be reading this?” a soft voice asked. Percy looked to his left to see Gwen sitting next to Dakota, looking confused.

“Gwen?” Reyna asked.

“Oh, the fates snuck me in here while Percy was reading the note. They said I should be here too,” she shrugged.

Reyna nodded then looked toward Percy. He blinked wondering what she wanted then remembered Gwen had asked a question, “I don’t know why mortals would be reading these. I actually don’t know where they got these, I have never written any books or anything.”

Reyna hummed then shrugged slightly.

But if you recognize yourself . . .

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“But, you didn’t warn us Percy,” Dakota said, taking a sip of his Kool-Aid, “Very bad manners.”

A few demi-gods snorted, but then quickly shut up when they saw the look on Reyna’s face.

My name is Percy Jackson.

. . .

I could start at any point in my short miserable

“Miserable?” Hazel whispered, looking Percy up and down clearly concerned.

life to prove it, . . .  And the time before that…Well, you get the idea.

“What? How does that all happen to one person?” One of the centurions from the second cohort called out, “And can you teach me?”

Percy raised an eyebrow then glanced at Reyna, the guy had a similar nose to the Stoll brothers, so he was pretty sure who’s kid he was, he just wanted Reyna to confirm it. “No, Larry, he will not be teaching you anything, we don’t need more Mercury kids blowing things up.”

This trip, I was determined to be good.

. . . was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Hazel and Frank glanced at each other mouthing ‘Grover?’ at the same time, which Percy had to cough, to cover up his laugh at. 

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit . . . Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

“Really? That bad?” a centurion from the fourth cohort asked at the same time Octavian muttered something about ‘abhorrent, violent Greeks’. 

Percy just nodded.

He rode up front in . . . math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

“Monster,” all the demigods, even the ghosts called out.

From her first day, . . . “You’re absolutely right.”

“Okay, who is this guy? Does he know about us?” Octavian’s fellow centurion from the first cohort asked.

Everyone, even Reyna turned and looked at Percy, who just gestured to the book, “It’ll come up.”

Mr. Brunner kept talking . . . I actually recognized it. “That’s Kronos eating his kids, right?”

“Who’s that?” another centurion asked quietly. 

“Uh, I believe you guys call him Saturn,” Percy responded, fidgeting with his necklace beads.

“Oh,” she muttered, “him.”

“Yes,” Mr. Brunner said, . . . I continued, “and the gods won.”

Reyna side-eyed him but kept reading before anyone could say anything. 

Some snickers . . . “Busted,” Grover muttered.

A couple people snorted quietly.

“Shut up,” Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

Percy laughed, covering his mouth quickly as some of the centurions and Reyna looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

I thought about his question, . . .  when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor 

“Roman?” Dakota asked, finally looking up from his cup, looking awfully similar to the Greek version of his father.

Percy shrugged, “It was a mortal latin class.”

and shouted: “What ho!” . . . New York state had been weird since Christmas. 

Frank raised his hand slightly, getting Reyna’s attention. Percy noticed her lips twitch upwards as if she were pleased Frank didn’t just shout out and interrupt her. 

“Yes, Centurion Zhang?” she asked.

“Well, I was just wondering if we might need to take notes to remember any important information later on. I mean we have seven books to get through, we might forget something,” he said, the fingers on his right hand twitching slightly. 

Reyna tilted her head then nodded, “Yes, why don't you and. . .” she paused, her eyes flicking over all the faces in front of her before settling, “Gwen. You and Gwen can take notes.”

Immediately Octavian jumped out of his chair and started arguing. Surprisingly, no one else seemed to have a problem with it, so Reyna just started reading over him. 

We’d had massive snow storms, . . . making it look like a motorized café table.

A ghost sitting in the back who didn’t seem to be paying all that much attention suddenly sat up straighter and got a look in his eye that reminded Percy of Beckendorf, Ah, must be a child of Hephaestus– er, Vulcan.

I was about to unwrap . . . “Percy pushed me!”

“Woah!”

“How-”

“-by the gods-” 

People kept muttering to each other, thankfully Reyna barreled on through. 

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us. . . . “A month erasing workbooks.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Never guess the punishment,” Percy heard Larry mutter.

“Come with me,” Mrs. Dodds said. . . . my brain misinterpreting

things.

I wasn’t so sure.

“Good instincts,” Reyna complemented softly.

I went after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

“What is he going to do?” one ghost muttered to another.

I looked back up. . . .  she wanted to pulverize it…

“Well, I suppose if she’s a monster that makes sense,” Gwen whispered to Frank who was now sitting with her and Dakota, pen poised over a notepad that Percy could swear hadn’t been there a second ago.

“You’ve been giving us problems, honey,” she said.

I did the safe thing. I said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Hazel’s eyebrow ticked up slightly as she glanced at Percy, telling him she didn’t believe that for one second. 

She tugged on the cuffs . . . She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

"Woah what is that?" people started to shout. 

Reyna raised her hand making them all go silent, then turned to Percy. 

"A Fury. Or a Kindly One, whichever name you prefer," he said matter-of-factly.

"A what?" one of the ghosts asked.

"A Dirae," Hazel answered, staring straight at Percy with wide, frightened eyes.

Everyone jerked and gasped, staring as if expecting Percy to dissolve right in front of them. Except for Octavian who was smiling gleefully, as if imagining Percy getting sliced and eaten was very entertaining.

Then things got even stranger. . . . hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.

Percy flinched slightly as he felt the adrenaline rush back, and tried to steady his hands.

She snarled, “Die, honey!”

And she . . .  two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

A few people hissed in sympathy.

I was alone.

There was a . . . Had I imagined the whole thing?

“Why would you think that?” another ghost asked.

“The mist,” Percy muttered, finally feeling his body calm down.

I went . . .  she said, “I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt.”

“Who?” all the centurions called out. Reyna snorted under her breath, then continued.

I said, “Who?” . . . own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson.”

“What is happening?” someone muttered.

I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn’t . . . Are you feeling alright?”

“What the- why wouldn’t he tell you, he clearly knows what’s happening. You clearly know what’s happening. Why?” Dakota begged, sitting forward and staring at Percy desperately as if he held the answers to the universe.

Percy simply pointed at the book again and said, “It’s explained later.”

Chapter Text

“Alright,” Reyna sighed, handing the book off to the closest person to her, Amber, a daughter of Ceres, from the second cohort. 

“Oh, me? Okay,” she said, “Three Old Ladies Knit the Socks of Death”

I WAS USED TO THE OCCASIONAL WEIRD . . .  our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

“Mist,” a few people whispered to each other looking confused and concerned.

“Seriously,” Dakota hissed, sitting so far forward Hazel was worried he would topple over onto his face, “Why won’t they just tell you, this is ridiculous, you clearly know something is going on.”

“Yes,” Octavian’s shrill voice shattered the brief peace they’d had, “thank you Dakota,” Dakota made a face at that, “these Greeks are clearly unequipped to handle themselves, let alone help us in a war, if they can’t tell that a child is realizing. Us Romans would never, we would have already sent you to Lupa, if you were really one us.” 

No one bothered replying though Reyna’s fingers twitched on her arm rests as she stared straight ahead blank faced, and Percy was glaring so harshly at Octavian, for a minute Hazel thought Octavian was about to get run through in front of everyone.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference . . .  which didn’t help my mood. 

Hazel moved so she was sitting on Frank's other side so he could continue speaking softly with Gwen but she could glance over and see what they were writing. It wasn’t much, just three questions, but they seemed important: Freak weather - Gods fighting? Important for Titan war? Why didn’t the Romans know about this?  

One night, a thunderstorm . . . I called him an old sot. I wasn’t even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

“Old drunk,” Dakota muttered as he mixed in more Kool-Aid mix to his drink.

The headmaster sent . . .  if they were riding skateboards. 

“That’s what dyslexia feels like?” Frank whispered to her. 

Hazel just nodded.

There was no way I . . .  ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

Percy twitched slightly. Hazel had seen him panicking last chapter during the fight with Mrs. Dodds, and was starting to be seriously concerned about what was going on with her friend. Could it have something to do with the price the fates mentioned? She thought, suddenly afraid.

I remembered Mr. Brunner’s serious . . . “But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline—”

Frank and Gwen whispers increased and Hazel heard the sound of a pen hurriedly scratching on paper.

“Will have to be resolved without him, . . .  out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Larry hissed softly, whispering something about giving away positions.

Mr. Brunner went silent. . . . looked suspiciously like an archer’s bow.

More writing and whispers on her left. Hazel was feeling just as confused as everyone else, she hadn’t known Percy long but on the way back from Alaska he had told her and Frank a little about his life and friends before coming to New Rome. She couldn’t remember him mentioning a Mr. Brunner, though, he did mention a Grover. So, who was the teacher, because he clearly was the boss of Grover and knew about their world, and what could have happened to him. Did he die in the war? Hazel wondered. No, he must not have because Percy didn’t seem sad hearing about this man, just slightly confused, and apparently very disappointed too if his heavy sigh and shaking of his head was anything to go by.

I opened the nearest door . . . “Don’t remind me.”

There were a couple quiet snorts, but most people just looked completely lost. 

“Man, seriously, what is happening right now?” Michael from the first cohort practically begged Percy, watching him closely.

Percy just shrugged and muttered, "Imagine how I felt.”

“This seems the worst way to find out about everything,” one of the ghosts in the back who didn’t usually participate said, sounding extremely put out.

Percy shrugged again, but seemed to be refusing to elaborate on anything.

The lights went out . . . Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

“Ugh, that girl is awful,” Gwen scoffed.

“I would have punched her already,” Hazel agreed.

“Trust me, I got in plenty of fights with her, Hazel,” Percy assured her.

“Good,” she replied, slightly smug on behalf of her friend, she was sure he won his fair share if not all of those fights. Percy was clearly a natural even without training, she had been able to tell during the War Games, and so far this book had proved her correct. 

I mumbled, “Okay, sir.” . . . My eyes stung.

Percy took several deep breaths as he closed his eyes.

Here was my favorite teacher, . . .  I was a nobody, from a family of nobodies.

Octavian opened his mouth again, but Percy glared him into submission before he could start. Hazel was pretty sure most of the others including Reyna didn’t even notice as they were completely focused on the book while Hazel was really only focused on her friend. Of course, she was listening but Percy's well-being during this was her top priority, he’d already got his memories back, and now it was looking like he would have to relive all of this physically.

They asked me what . . .  together again, heading into the city.

“Stalker,” Amber coughed.

During the whole bus ride, . . . The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

“Why is it in a fancy script?” Grace asked, tilting her head. If Hazel remembered correctly she was a centurion for the fourth cohort and she was a legacy of Venus.

"Ask our camp director, I don't know," Percy shrugged noncommittally. 

“What’s Half—” . . . I kind of have to protect you.”

I stared at him.

“I don’t know what exactly this guy is trying to explain,” Larry muttered, “but even I know this is not how you do it. What does he mean he’s protecting you?”

“It’s his job,” Percy said.

“Riiiiight,” Larry side-eyed Percy for a moment before turning and looking at Amber on his left again.

All year long, I’d gotten in fights, . . .  bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

Reyna suddenly shot up in her chair, “Wait,” she hissed.

Amber immediately stopped reading, looking up concerned, “Praetor, is something wrong?”

“That description, read it again,” she insisted.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

“The Fates, is that not what they looked like, when they visited us a little while ago?” Reyna was now boring holes into the side of Percy’s head with her eyes, “Isn’t it, Percy?”

Percy nodded slightly. Everyone even Octavian, froze for a moment, soaking in the action before all Hades broke loose. 

“What do you-”

“-the fates, again?-”

“-looking at you-”

“Percy,”

“- are you alive?-”

“Praetor-”

“-Jackson, how-”

“Reyna we-”

“Percy,”

“This can’t-”

“Percy,”

“Stupid Greek-”

“Percy,”

“Shut up, Octavian-”

“PERCY,” Hazel finally screamed, standing up on her seat to be seen and heard over the others. Immediately everyone shut their mouths. Percy was staring at her with wide eyes, appearing to frantically catalogue everything about her in about five seconds. He shot to his feet and made his way towards her, carefully moving people out of his way. When he finally made it to her, Frank had also made it back to her side, having moved away to argue with Octavian. 

“Are you okay?” Percy asked softly, looking up at her as she hadn’t gotten down off the bench yet. 

She shook her head, opening her mouth to tell him she was fine when he hissed quietly and asked, “Where are you hurt?”

“No, Percy I’m fine,” she insisted before he could demand a healer for no reason, “I’m concerned about you. You saw the fates, with a string. Please tell me we aren’t about to hear them cut it,” she paused, breathing heavily on the verge of tears. She didn’t want her friend to die, “Please.”

“I can promise that I’m not dying any time soon,” Percy soothed gently, taking her hand and squeezing it, “and I’m right here, okay I’m fine,” he turned to Frank now and placed his hand on Frank’s shoulder repeating, “I’m fine.”

“Everyone settle down, we don’t know what was shown yet, and clearly Praetor Jackson is still here, everything will be fine,” Reyna ordered.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at me. . . .  The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic.

There were soft gasps, but no one freaked out this time. Hazel gripped Percy’s hand tighter, and she noticed Frank had handed Gwen the notepad, and grabbed Percy’s other hand. The colour had drained from his face just like Grover in the book. Percy had promised them, he promised , Hazel reminded herself in a loop as Amber kept reading.

Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for—Sasquatch or Godzilla.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

“That’s not how that works,” Ben, a child of Vulcan and a centurion from the third cohort muttered.

The passengers cheered. . . . He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

Percy shivered slightly but shook his head when Frank asked if he needed anything.

“Grover?”

“Yeah?” . . . were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. 

Reyna nodded miniscully muttering something under her breath.

He said, “Just tell me . . . “What last time?”

Everyone leaned forward looking intrigued and excited for more information, looking between the book and Percy.

“Always sixth grade. . . . like he was already picking the kind of  flowers I’d like best on my coffin.

“Oh come on,” Michael groaned, “just tell us, this is crazy.”

“Sorry, I think the Fates want you to find out about Greek life the same way I did,” Percy half-heartedly explained, leaning back slightly looking exhausted already. How exhausted is he going to be by the end of this? 

Hazel hoped it wouldn’t be too bad, but if his demi-godly life before meeting her and Frank was in any way similar to what they had been through the past week, she knew that it was a foolish hope he would be okay. 

Chapter Text

Frank already was starting to hate this. Not only was his friend essentially being tortured by his own past by the fates themselves, he knew he couldn’t reasonably tell everyone to stop because by doing this they could be stopping war. Frank may be a child of Mars but that didn’t mean he wanted conflict, he actually loved peace as crazy as that may sound. Though, he couldn’t figure out what war they might be stopping by doing this, all they were doing was reading about Percy being introduced to-

“What are we doing here Reyna,” Octavian started, again, “Listening to some exaggerated, possibly made up story to make the Greeks look better than they are?” He turned to the senate and cried, “I mean, come on, we all know the truth about the Greeks, they’re savages, graecus scum that should be wiped from the earth.” 

As Octavian continued ranting Frank could feel Percy growing tenser and tenser. Right, Greek, Frank thought, Octavian would definitely start a war with them, probably for no reason too, or for something that wasn't actually their fault.

Glancing at Hazel Frank could see she was seriously ticked off, her eyes shining with a fire of burning rage. Reyna looked pretty similar, Frank noticed. For one of the first times ever in his presence Reyna was showing some actual emotion, which he appreciated, it made her slightly less terrifying. Thankfully for everyone’s eardrums Michael offered to read which shut Octavian up real quick. 

“ Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants ” Michael laughed, giving Percy a questioning look. Percy shook his head and gestured to the book again, so Michael just read on.

CONFESSION TIME: I DITCHED GROVER as soon as we got to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover was freaking me out, looking at me like I was a dead man, muttering “Why does this always happen?” and “Why does it always have to be sixth grade?”

“What does he mean by that?” Grace asked, twirling her dark hair around her fingers.

Percy hummed, his eyes glazing over slightly, clicking his tongue he finally said, “The first demigod Grover was ever sent to collect, er-” he paused, scrunching his nose as he continued, “The story will come up later so please don’t ask me to elaborate but, the demigod, she– well she died before she could make it to camp.” 

“Oh,” Grace breathed.

“Does that happen often?” Reyna asked, her lips tugging down as she waited for an answer.

“As far as I’m aware, it started becoming less common after the war,” Percy informed them, “Unless it’s changed since I was last at camp.”

Whenever he got upset, . . .  she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

Octavian rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, though none of them ever found out what he wanted to say as Percy materialised before him Riptide pressed against his sternum. “If you say a word about my mother it will not end well for you, I can promise that.”

“Octavian, don’t insult anyone’s mother, Greek or not,” Reyna sighed exasperatedly, while looking at the two boys with an unreadable expression. 

“Uh, Reyna-” Octavian squawked.

“No, that is final. Do. Not. Insult. Anyone’s. Family,” Reyna interrupted him then faced Percy, “Please try not to threaten our senators Praetor Jackson.”

The only good break she ever got was meeting my dad. I don’t have any memories of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. My mom doesn’t like to talk about him because it makes her sad. She has no pictures.

See, they weren’t married. 

Again Octavian opened his mouth only to be cut off by Reyna this time. “Octavian,” she said sharply, not even looking at him. Octavian shut his mouth.

She told me he was rich . . . well, when I came home is a good example.

“This guy sounds awful,” a ghost huffed.

There were quiet hums of agreement.

I walked into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.

Hazel pursed her lips slightly in disgust, taking Percy’s hand again as he stiffened between her and Frank.

Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, “So, you’re home.” . . . all combed over his bald scalp, as if that made him handsome or something.

Gwen gagged under her breath next to Frank who could feel Percy become more and more tense as the passage went on. Frank was starting to worry that Percy was about to be injured, and if he was, then there was nothing in any world, godly or mortal, that would stop him from hunting this pig down. Despite being a peace-loving child of Mars he would burn down the world for his family, and Percy had become his brother on their quest.

He managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, . . . he expected me to provide his gambling funds.

“With what money? You were twelve,” Dakota drawled from where he was slumped against Gwen. Frank jumped, he could have sworn Dakota had been asleep from a sugar crash. “My father should curse him to always lose his games for this.”

He called that our “guy secret.”

Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out.

Michael stopped. No one spoke, even Octavian looked disgusted. Frank gently laid his hand over Percy’s squeezing it to reassure his friend that he was there. Reyna’s eyes closed for a moment before flicking to Percy with what Frank thought might be sympathy and understanding. 

“What did you just say young man?” one of the ghosts called, uncharacteristically soft. 

“ Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out. ” Michael read out again.

Hazel wrapped her arms around Percy trembling, though if it was from grief or rage Frank couldn’t tell. Considering the amount of gold and gems popping up around her, she was extremely distressed either way. Frank felt like he was in the muskeg that the other two fell in in Alaska, the mud clogging his ears and making everything distorted and muffled while filling his mouth and nose, slowly choking him with equal amounts despair and rage. 

Choking past it Frank whispered, “Did- You- Percy, you don’t need to but, did he ever-?”

Percy’s eyes were glazed over as he stared at the floor. Silence reigned for several minutes. Eventually he answered, “A few times,” taking a deep breath he continued, “It’s fine.”

Hazel lifted her head and moved around until she was looking Percy in the eye, “Would you talk to just me and Frank later?”

“You don’t have to man,” Frank squeezed Percy’s hand again.

“I’ll think about it,” he paused for a while again, “Can we move on.”

“Of course Percy,” Reyna soothed softly, her voice low, “Michael keep reading.” 

“I don’t have any . . .  Am I right, Eddie?”

More gems popped up around Hazel as her eye twitched and she glared at the book so harshly that Michael started to look uncomfortable. Frank could feel a growl build in his throat, it almost felt like his nails were elongating into claws and his teeth sharpening into fangs, he felt like a hungry lion ready to hunt down any pathetic humans who dared to hurt his loved ones.   

Eddie, the super . . . “Your report card came, brain boy!” he shouted after me. “I wouldn’t act so snooty!”

“You are very smart!” Hazel insisted.

Frank nodded, “Yeah, you showed how smart you are multiple times on our quest and during the battle after.”

I slammed the door to my room, . . .  Home sweet home.

People make faces of disgust, a few people even gagged including Gwen who was gripping Dakota's arm so tightly he was wincing in pain.

Gabe’s smell was almost . . . “free samples,” the way she always did when I came home.

“Oh that’s wonderful,” Summer, a centurion of the fourth cohort and a child of Apollo, cooed. 

We sat together on the edge . . . I gritted my teeth.

So did Frank.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should’ve been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

“You mentioned a stepfather the other day,” Frank remembered, “This guy?”

Percy shook his head, “New one. Great guy, promise.”

For her sake, I tried . . .  but I thought it would sound stupid.

A couple people groaned in sympathy, muttering about how they thought the same thing once.

She pursed her lips. . . .  Gabe said there wasn’t enough money.

Groans echoed around the room as people started cursing the disgusting mortal out in Latin.

Gabe appeared in the doorway . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?”

More cursing, mostly from the girls, but Frank could hear Dakota mumbling about financial manipulation and abuse under his breath.

“Yes, honey,” . . . And maybe if the kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game.”

More gems.

This time the growl actually made it through Frank's lips as Hazel hissed in unintelligible Latin. 

“Interrupted?” Larry screeched, “He funded it.”

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, . . .  sorry I interrupted your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now.”

“He didn’t notice?” Reyna asked incredulously, looking at Percy as if he had grown a million heads and turned into a hydra. 

“I guess not,” Michael answered instead.

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in my statement.

“Yeah, whatever,” he decided.

“Idiot,” Noah, a centurion of the third cohort and a legacy of Mars, snorted.

He went back to his game. . . . as if my mom too felt an odd chill in the air.

“She knows about our world doesn’t she?” Reyna questioned.

Percy nodded, gently untangling his fingers from Hazel’s and tugging slightly at the hem of his T-shirt and fingering his necklace. 

But then her smile returned, . . . and more important, his ’78 Camaro—for the whole weekend.

“Her cooking and the car,” Gwen cried slumping in her seat, “Why am I even surprised of course that’s all he cares about.” Dakota put an arm around her in comfort. Others winced and sighed at the image of this pig not even able to pretend that he might miss them while they were away.

“Not a scratch on this car, . . . If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he’d find a way to blame me.

Even more gems, and another growl caused Percy to put his arms around Frank and Hazel, clearly trying to get them to relax. As much as they loved Percy and would usually settle down if he wanted them to, Frank knew, if simply feeling Percy’s presence wasn’t working for him it definitely wasn’t helping Hazel. Despite how much they may want it to.

Watching him lumber . . . stay long enough to find out.

“What was that?”

“Can we do that?”

“How did you do that?”

People started asking their questions at once until Reyna raised her hand silencing them. Sighing she blinked slowly then turned to Percy. The son of Poseidon just shrugged and said he never found out and that only satyrs were supposed to be able to do it. Apparently it was Nature magic, whatever that was.

“Satyrs?” Reyna questioned.

“Uh- you guys call them fauns.” Percy admitted, looking a bit sour about that, Frank couldn’t imagine why. 

“Grover is a faun?” Amber sat forward, eyes wide sounding completely dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Percy hissed, still looking and sounding annoyed, “he is. Satyrs are actually really helpful for us Greeks.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this later,” Reyna decided, nodding to Michael.    

I got in the Camaro and told my mom . . . I loved the place.

Percy smiled a little, a sad sheen to his eyes. Frank leaned a little heavier against him, making Percy glance and smile gratefully at him.

We’d been going there . . .  she wasn’t totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like me.

“That explains why the blue drink made you happy, your first night here,” Hazel giggled softly.

“Rebellious streak?” Frank asked at the same time, “Are you not the same guy who refused to kneel to Lord Mars?”

“Then talked back to him?” Reyna added, raising an eyebrow, though she didn’t look as annoyed about it as Frank would have thought. She even seemed the tiniest bit amused.

Percy shrugged, “I had my reasons.”

When it got dark, . . .  but I never got tired of hearing them.

Most everyone nodded, the only ones who didn’t were the legacies who didn’t care about the stories as much as the first generation demigods did.

“He was kind, Percy,” . . .  a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years.

“There is so much to be proud of,” Hazel assured their friend, beating Frank by about two seconds.

“Yeah, you saved our butts so many times, and I’m sure you were great before you ever even met us,” He continued for her, “I for one can’t wait to hear about it.”

“And even without your demigod achievements you're a pretty great person. I can tell, and I barely know you,” Dakota piped up.

“How old was I?” I asked. . . . but still, I’d felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he’d never even seen me…

“He may have visited without your mom knowing. My dad did it,” Hazel whispered so quiet Frank barely heard her. 

I felt angry at my father. . . . .  a limp, scaly rope I’d somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

“Like Hercules,” Ben joked, only to be glared at by Percy, “Sorry,” he threw his hands up in a show of surrender and non-threat.

Percy’s eyes closed and he shook his head, “No, sorry I didn’t mean to glare that hard. It’s just Hercules is a very sore subject, and I don’t like being compared to him.”

In every single school, something creepy . . .  would end our trip to Montauk, and I didn’t want that.

Octavian once more opened his mouth only to shut it when Reyna sighed heavily, sounding exhausted. He strangely had a brief flash of guilt in his eyes as he turned back to the book. 

“I’ve tried to keep . . .  I knew from her expression that if I asked her any more questions she would start to cry.

“Perceptive,” Reyna murmured.

“So, you’ve always been like that?” Hazel wondered. 

Percy nodded, "I guess so. Never really thought about it."

That night I had . . .  I couldn’t understand what I was seeing.

Michael paused and looked at Percy. Frank frowned at the utterly bewildered look on Michael's face. “Is something wrong Centurion?” Reyna called.

“I don’t know how to say this,” he paused, glancing down at the book, “It says it’s ancient Greek.”

Percy stood and moved closer to Michael, holding his hand out to him. “I’ll read it.”

“O Zeu kai alloi theoi!” he yelled. 

“Thanks,” Michael beamed, taking the book back.

“What does that mean?” Summer asked.

“‘Oh Zeus and other gods,’” Percy replied.

“It’s right behind me! . . .  there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.

“That must have been so weird,” Frank said giving his friend a sympathetic look, at least he had a mostly calm introduction to this life. 

“Who’s chasing you?” Noah asked as he took the book from Michael. 

“A very big, scary monster,” Percy nonchalantly answered as if he was not getting incredulous and terrified looks from everyone, even Octavian and the ghosts, who for the most part stayed quiet, seemingly unconcerned for what was happening currently.

Chapter Text

Octavian was in a mood. Although, he would privately admit to himself that he had been in a mood since Jason went missing. In the back of his head he could still hear the voice that claimed to be his ancestor yet sounded sleepy and almost feminine getting louder. He had questioned when he first heard the voice, but who else could it be? 

The voice kept egging him on, telling him that the only way to protect Rome was to destroy the Greeks. He’d always believed the Greeks were out there, his whole family had, and been trying to find them for ages. Though when he was younger he hadn’t wanted to be a king, as the voice promised he would be, he just wanted to protect his home from the terrible Greeks his parents had told him about. He had tried to question the voice at first, it kept wanting him to do things he didn’t want to do, but the voice had slowly become more and more enticing until he couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

After Percy got to camp the voice got louder pushing him to challenge Reyna’s position in the legion, he’d tried to tell the voice it wasn’t necessary, if he just spoke to Reyna she’d be on their side, but the voice had shown him what would happen to his friends and family if he didn’t gain leadership over the legion. So he went ahead. He could tell Reyna was worried, he’d never been this awful before. Sure, he’d been pretentious and could be arrogant, but never this much and he wanted to reassure her that it was going to be okay, he was going to save Rome. The voice told him that he couldn’t, that Reyna wouldn’t understand, and well Apollo was the god of prophecies, he could see the future better than Octavian ever would. 

The voice kept telling him this was a trick so the Greeks could attack so he needed to interrupt, stop this and get back to work, but Reyna didn’t think this was a trick and Reyna did usually know best about these things. He could feel Reyna sending him assessing, sad looks clearly trying to figure out what was going on with him. He really did want to comfort his friend with his knowledge, but had they really been friends for a while now? Since Jason went missing they had slowly drifted apart, he couldn’t remember the last time Reyna visited him at the temple to hear his predictions, or say his name in anything less than annoyance, or call him ‘Tavi’ as she used to. 

The sound of Noah’s voice cut through Octavian’s musing and pulled him out of the fond memories of the past to the harsh realities of his present.   

WE TORE THROUGH THE NIGHT . . . The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

Octavian raised an eyebrow, but refrained from saying anything. He couldn’t imagine finding out about the demigod world this way, it sounded awful, and Romans were trained with a pack of wolves that threatened to eat them if they failed.

All I could . . .  though there were no cars behind us. 

“There wouldn’t be, it's a monster,” he sneered, earning a harsh look from most of the senate, especially Reyna almost making him flinch back, but he stood his ground and rolled his eyes at Jackson. Seriously, shouldn’t such an observant person have realized that, a voice in his head said, though he couldn’t distinguish it from his usual thoughts and the voice in his head, If this is the best Greek Juno could send, then how awful are the others?

“Not exactly,” he said. “I mean, we’ve . . . faking being your friend,” he added hastily. “I am your friend.”

“Of course he is,” Hazel stated firmly, “He seems like an amazing friend.”

“He is,” Percy smiled wistfully, “He really is. I miss him.”

“I’m sure you’ll see him soon man,” Ben said, “Your Greek friends are on their way right?”

Percy hummed in agreement, tapping his foot on the ground, suddenly looking a bit nervous. Why is he nervous? Is he hiding something? The voice hissed, those insidious Greeks are going to attack soon, you need to get out of here and prepare. Perseus Jackson is lying to you, he is going to destroy you all. 

Though as he opened his mouth to accuse this Noah started reading again after a look from Reyna.

“Um…what are you, . . .  would trample you underhoof for such an insult!”

“Really?” Grace asked.

“Yes,” Percy said evenly, “that’s one of the things we will discuss later.”

Reyna nodded, her eyes showing her thanks to him.

“Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. . . . still miffed about the donkey comment. “Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions.”

Octavian’s eyes widened wondering just how this demigod had survived so long. Everyone around him, even the ghosts who Octavian would have sworn weren’t paying attention, were screaming their ‘How’s’ and ‘Why’s’ but Jackson was ignoring them in favour of the two sitting next to him.

Octavian couldn’t hear what was being said but it appeared comforting as centurion Zhang eventually relaxed his tense shoulders and legionary Levesque slowly stopped breaking Jackson’s fingers. Reyna watched for a minute, concerned, before insisting the centurion keep reading.

“Grover!” . . . but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Octavian found himself leaning forward along everyone else in the room before he caught himself and sat back, forcing his face into an impassive mask.

Outside, nothing but rain . . . She’d meant to kill me.

“It really is horrible realizing for the first time,” one of the ghosts commiserated.

“Thank you,” Percy groaned, “I thought I was going insane for months. It was awful.”

Then I thought about . . . the driver’s seat and said, “Ow.”

Percy groaned as he doubled over. Frank and Hazel started fussing over him even while he was waving them off. 

“Percy!” my . . . Lightning.

“Lightning?” Reyna questioned sitting forward, scrutinizing Percy.

“Zeus- er, Jupiter,” he said after he caught his breath.

“And why, Praetor Jackson, would Lord Jupiter want to kill you?” Octavian demanded, wondering if the gods really did see Percy Jackson as a threat.

“The book will tell you eventually Octavian if you would just be patient,” Percy hissed back.

That was the only explanation. . . . the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree–sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

Percy smiled fondly.

“That’s the property line,” my mom said. . . . was his head. And the points that looked like horns…

“Horns?” people started whispering to each other comparing myths and ideas about what monster it could be. Octavian really didn’t care about the monster he just wanted this over already.

“He doesn’t want us,” . . .  horns that was lumbering toward us slowly and deliberately like, like a bull.

More whispers.

I climbed across Grover and . . .  “I wish I’d known how badly they want to kill you.”

“What?” Hazel bit out.

“Hazel, it’s okay,” Percy soothed, allowing Hazel to squeeze his hand again.

“These are the gods she’s talking about?” Frank clarified. Percy nodded. “Right, right, right,” Frank nodded, his eyes wide and unseeing as if imagining Percy’s death, “Why do they want to kill you so much?” 

Percy opened his mouth looking apologetic only to get interrupted by Reyna who sighed, “Let me get we’ll find out?” 

Percy nodded again.  

“But he’s the Min—” . . . Not a scratch, I remembered Gabe saying.

Oops.

Octavian choked on his snort as the others around him dissolved into tense laughter, though a quick look from Reyna shut them up.

“Percy,” my mom said. . . .  toward my mother, who was setting Grover down in the grass.

Jackson tensed and started bouncing his knee.

We’d reached the crest . . . “I can’t go any farther. Run!”

“Why?” Michael asked, “She mentioned that earlier. Why can’t mortals enter your camp?”

“The barrier stops them, they have to be invited in,” Jackson explained.

But I just stood there, . . .  simply…gone.

“What!” people screamed out. Frank was leaning against Percy again and it looked like he was commiserating with him. 

“Wait!” Hazel cried out, “But, you mentioned your mother, and a new stepfather, so she must be alive. Right?”

“Yeah, I get her back,” Percy said casually causing Octavian’s eyes to almost bug out of his head, “I can’t tell you how though, it’s in the book.”

That got everyone to calm down real quick. He’s lying, it wasn’t possible to bring someone back from the dead a few years ago, the voice purred. For the first time in months, Octavian ignored it, because Jackson had, in the week he’d been part of their camp, had done several things Octavian used to think impossible. Of course, he could bring someone back from the dead while the doors of death are closed.

“No!” . . . the monster’s head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out.

Jackson groaned again, grabbing at his jaw.

The bull-man staggered . . . I pulled backward with all my might. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then—snap!

Octavian vaguely heard several shouts of surprise and a few congratulations, but he was too busy staring at Percy to pay attention to anyone else. How did he do that, he wondered. 

The bull-man screamed and flung . . . the size of a knife.

Percy blinked several times and leaned back.

The monster charged. . . . “He’s still conscious. Bring him inside.”

“That’s the girl you asked about, when you first got here,” Frank muttered as he watched Percy worriedly. 

“Yeah, my girlfriend,” Percy sighed as he slumped forward and dropped his head into his hands, “She’s one of the ones coming here.”

“Okay, who is reading next?” Noah asked cheerfully, holding up the book.

Chapter Text

“I’ll read,” Grace decided, taking the book and flipping to the right page.

I HAD WEIRD DREAMS FULL OF BARNYARD . . .  “What’s going on? What was stolen? We’ve only got a few weeks!”

“What was stolen?” Various people questioned at once. Reyna shook her head, telling them to wait for the book to tell them instead of pestering Percy. 

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, . . . He had blue eyes—at least a dozen of them—on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

“Who’s that?” Frank asked.

“Argus,” Percy said, “He’s head of security.”

When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird . . . My tongue was dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.

Percy slowly slumped over again, muttering about how he already hated this.

On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, . . .  We were still on vacation, and we’d stopped here at this big house for some reason. And…

Several people winced and murmured their condolences.

“You saved my life,” Grover said. . . . The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

“I felt the same after my mom died,” Frank sighed quietly. Hazel reached across Percy and took his hand, silently offering her comfort. Percy simply nodded, his eyes downcast and refusing to look at anyone, as if expecting ridicule or mockery for being upset.

“I’m sorry,” Grover sniffled. “I’m a failure. . . . I would live on the streets first. I would pretend I was seventeen and join the army. 

“Would you really?” Reyna wondered, concerned.

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t have worked. I was really small back then,” Percy assured her, shooting her an attempt at a comforting look. It unfortunately didn’t work all that well as he still looked absolutely miserable, though Reyna appreciated the attempt. “Camp wouldn’t have really let me leave anyway.”

I’d do something. . . . I’d drained the glass. I stared into it, sure I’d just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn’t even melted.

“What is that?” Reyna sat forward hoping to learn about more ways to heal her people.

“Nectar,” Percy explained, “Food of the gods.”

“How do you have it?” Octavian glared. Reyna took a deep breath in order to stay calm in front of the senate.

“I actually don’t know,” Percy replied, “You would have to ask our healers, they’re the ones who give it out.”

“Was it good?” Grover asked. . . . “That’s good. I don’t think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff.”

“Why?” Gwen looked up from the notes in her hand.

“Too much and it burns you up,” Percy paused, "Literally."

“Wow,” Summer breathed out, “I’m glad the stuff we use doesn’t do that.” 

“What do you mean?”

He took the empty . . .  carry the Minotaur horn, but I held on to it. I’d paid for that souvenir the hard way. I wasn’t going to let it go.

Many people muttered in agreement.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, . . . Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

Hazel gasped suddenly, “You guys have pegasi?” 

Percy smiled softly as he looked down at her and nodded, “I’m sure they would love to meet you if you’re ever allowed to visit.” At that Percy looked at Reyna, whose lips twitched upward slightly in approval, Percy may also be Praetor but ultimately, it was Reyna’s decision. 

Reyna quietly surveyed the senate, many of whom looked excited and intrigued about the Greek camp, before nodding. “I think that could be arranged at some point, once this giant problem has been dealt with.” 

Down at the end of the porch, two men . . .  If Mr. D was a stranger to alcohol, I was a satyr.

“Who is that guy? He seems more important than just a camp director,” Michael asked.

“He’s introduced in a little bit,” Percy muttered.

“Annabeth?” Mr. Brunner . . .  pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

A few girls chuckled and muttered they would like to meet this girl. Reyna agreed, this girl seemed like a strong soldier who might be able to relate to Reyna and allow her to let down her mask. 

She glanced at the minotaur . . . “You drool when you sleep.”

Reyna snorted softly as she watched Percy roll his eyes and shake his head in an attempt of contempt, though she spotted the small wistful smile on his face.

Then she sprinted off . . . “I’m afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron.”

“Who-” someone started.

Percy waved off their question, “It’s explained later.”

“Okay.” Totally confused, . . . “I’m glad to see you alive.  It’s been a long time since I’ve made a house call to a potential camper. I’d hate to think I’ve wasted my time.”

Quiet, scornful whispers hissed throughout the room. Reyna raised her hand to silence them, “He may not have meant it that way. We all remember the conversation at Yancy, right?” Everyone nodded and quieted down, though rather reluctantly.

“House call?” . . . Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that’s always the first test.”

“Like what Lupa does?” Grace sat forward to look at Percy in his eyes. 

“Yes, I suppose,” Percy smiled.

“Grover,” Mr. D said . . . “Exactly,” Chiron agreed. “If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?”

Several groans sounded out. 

“This is going terrible,” Noah moaned, “How do they expect you to understand any of this? He said they have an orientation film, why can’t they just show you that?” 

“And he’s not really going to be paying attention to the information when they’re bringing up his mother in a demeaning way every two minutes,” Amber hissed.  

My heart pounded. He was trying . . . momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

Dakota’s eyes narrowed and Reyna’s eyebrows rose.

My jaw dropped, . . . “You’re Dionysus,” I said. “The god of wine.”

Dakota’s mouth fell open as everyone else around him took a second to realize what that meant, but once they did, all eyes turned to stare at Dakota. 

Blinking several times Dakota finally whispered, “My father?” 

“Yeah,” Percy sounded apologetic as he continued, “I don’t know how different he is in his Roman form, but this is pretty much how he always acts when I interact with him.”

“Why do you Greeks get a god at your camp-” Octavian started.

“You also have a god at camp,” Percy reminded him, “Though, I will say the Greek version of the gods certainly seem more involved in our lives than yours are.” 

Mr. D rolled his eyes. . . . “Would you like to test me, child?” he said quietly.

Dakota winced slightly, shooting Percy an apologetic look which was quickly waved off. 

“No. No, sir.”

The fire died a little. . . . Oh, different names, perhaps—Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on—but the same forces, the  same gods.”

“Not exactly, they are a little different,” Percy muttered at the same time someone called out, “I’m so confused, what is wrong with the film?”

“And then they died.”

A few people snorted.

“Died? No. Did the West die? . . . It was all too much, especially the fact that I seemed to be included in Chiron’s we, as if I were part of some club.

“This is way too much information, he’s not going to remember it all,” Ben sighed, sounding personally offended that this is how Percy’s introduction to the Greeks was handled. 

“Who are you, Chiron? Who…who am I?” . . . “What a relief,” the centaur said. “I’d been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy Jackson. Let’s meet the other campers.”

“I’m so glad I already know what he’s trying to explain, or I’d be so lost,” Frank groaned, slightly wide eyed as he glanced at Percy. 

Several people quietly agreed with that statement as the book was handed over to Summer.

Chapter Text

ONCE I GOT OVER THE FACT THAT my Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I’d done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I’m sorry, I did not trust Chiron’s back end the way I trusted his front.

A few people nodded, though most just gave him funny looks as if thinking he was being crazy for even bringing it up. Percy just smiled at all of them before turning back to the book. 

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers . . .  a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable.

Percy watched as Reyna moved forward slightly, her brows furrowing in thought, “Is there someone up there?” she eventually asked, interrupting the whispers floating around the room. 

Percy hummed noncommittally tilting his head from side to side, before deciding on, “It’s complicated.”

Something had moved the curtain, . . . “No,” he said with finality. “Not a single living thing.”

More whispers broke out but Percy ignored them for Reyna who was watching him with narrowed eyes. He shook his head, mouthing ‘later’ which made her huff slightly out her nose and turn her head sharply away from him.

I got the feeling he was being truthful. . . . I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. 

“That’s amazing, can our fauns be taught to do stuff like that?” Amber asked.

Nodding Percy said, “I’ll tell you guys more and answer some questions about camp after this chapter,” he paused and looked to Reyna, “I can do that right?”

Raising an eyebrow she huffed softly again, though this one sounded distinctly amused. Though as she opened her mouth Octavian butted in again, “He can’t make decisions for us he’s a Greek, he’s not an actual Praetor.”

That sentence caused a massive uproar from the entire senate, even the ghosts were standing screaming at Octavian about how he was disgracing the traditions of Rome. After about two minutes of this Reyna raised her hand causing everyone to fall silent. “Octavian,” she breathed, her eyes raising towards the sky as if praying, probably for patience, “Percy Jackson was raised on a shield after a battle, that makes him a Praetor, which means he can in fact make decisions. To answer your question,” she continued, turning now to Percy, “you are allowed to call for a break at any time you wish. We will read these books at your pace, and anyway I think we need a slight break. We've been at this for a while now and we’re all getting restless. I think learning about a different culture could prove entertaining and helpful for all of us,” she paused again, her eyes sweeping the rows of senators, “Unless, anyone has a reason to object to this plan?”

Shaking their heads vehemently and muttering, ‘No, of course not’ the senators all sat in their seats again. 

I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.

“Grover won’t get in too much trouble, will he?” I asked Chiron. “I mean…he was a good protector. Really.”

Hazel smiled at Percy, “You’re such a good friend.”

Percy smiled back, “Thanks.”

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket . . . And the fact  that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover’s part.”

“That’s stupid,” Frank grunted, “None of that was his fault.” Everyone else nodded, Reyna looked especially annoyed by the sound of this council.

I wanted to protest. None of what happened was Grover’s fault. . . . intentionally avoiding the word death. The beginnings of an idea—a tiny, hopeful fire—started forming in my mind.

“You didn’t,” Larry groaned.

Percy shrugged, “In my defense it wasn’t my fault.”

Hazel shook her head, “It’s a miracle you are still alive.”

“I know,” Percy sighed, grimacing slightly as he remembered all the times he should have died over the years.

“Chiron,” I said. “If the gods . . . “Come, Percy. Let’s see the woods.”

“This is ridiculous. Do they answer any of your questions,” Amber insisted.

“Not really,” Percy paused, thinking, “But some of them get answered later in this chapter I think.”

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. . . . “My own—?”

Reyna shook her head as she sighed through her nose again, every time Percy glanced at her she appeared more and more annoyed with how Chiron was handling this.

“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. . . . Chiron looked at me as if I’d gone a little weird. “We still have to eat, don’t we?” I decided to drop the subject.

“What do you do?” Frank asked.

Percy chuckled, as he told them they had a barrier around their camp, watching them as they blinked in confusion and shock. Then someone grumbled, “Why don’t we have a barrier? That would be so useful.”

Shrugging, Percy continued, “How we got the barrier is explained later. And I think the river around your camp sort of serves as a barrier from most monsters.”

Finally, he showed me the cabins. . . . In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined fire pit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

Percy smiled thinking about his favourite goddess.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, . . . Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty?

Several Romans tilted their heads looking incredibly confused. “It’s explained properly later,” he assured before they could start questioning him.

I stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three. . . . The place felt so sad and lonely, I was glad when Chiron put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Come along, Percy.”

“You were drawn to it?” Reyna questioned, looking between the book and Percy. He nodded slowly, thinking back to when he first saw his father’s cabin. 

He then muttered, quiet enough only Hazel and Frank could hear him, “I’m surprised it took them so long to figure it out.”

They both looked at him, but didn’t question him on it as they had learned by now if he didn’t explain then it would most likely come up in the book. 

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers. . . . “No,” said Chiron sadly. “My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I’m afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won’t see any here.”

“Sporting events?” Larry asked, leaning forward.

“Yeah, the Party Ponies are strange.” While Larry continued to try and talk to Percy about centaurs at sporting events, the rest of the Romans just appeared confused and concerned. As Percy was turning to his friends to ask why, he suddenly remembered that time outside Iris’s store seeing the army. Right, Romans think all centaurs are bad, Percy thought, as he gestured for the centurion from the fourth cohort Hazel had called Summer, when she whispered all their names and cohorts to him earlier, to keep reading. 

“You said your name was Chiron. Are you really…” . . . “No, no,” he said. “Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring.”

“Why depressing?”

Percy winced, he now knew exactly why it was depressing which was part of the reason he turned down immortality. He just wouldn’t be able to watch as his friends all died while he was forced to do nothing.

Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

“Oh, look,” he said. “Annabeth is waiting for us.”

The blond girl I’d met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled.

There were a few snorts at that while Reyna raised an eyebrow at Percy, trying not to smile.

I tried to see what she was reading, . . . Over the doorway was one of those doctor’s symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it…? A Caduceus.

Larry, who had been messing with something Ben had given him, sat up straight at the mention of his dad’s symbol. He stared at the book hungrily, desperate to hear more.

Inside, it was packed with people, . . . There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

Everyone gave Percy sympathetic glances. Thankfully none of them laughed as Percy could feel a vague shadow of the embarrassment he had felt back then.

Annabeth announced, “Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven.”

“Regular or undetermined?” somebody asked.

I didn’t know what to say, but Annabeth said, “Undetermined.”

Everybody groaned.

There were a few whispers at that, which were quickly silenced when Reyna reminded the senate that Percy would be answering questions later if they were not answered in this chapter.

A guy who was a little older than the rest . . . I thought about setting that down, but then I remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves.

Larry huffed, sounding mildly disappointed, but he still shot Percy a grin and muttered, “Good memory.”

I looked around at the campers’ faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

“How long will I be here?” I asked.

“Good question,” Luke said. “Until you’re determined.”

“How long will that take?”

The campers all laughed.

The Romans again looked extremely confused, but held off on the questions.

“Come on,” Annabeth told me. . . . “To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?”

“To survive, what is this girl on about?” Noah cried.

Percy sighed softly, “She was a kid who had been at camp for years, she wanted to get out into the world and prove herself. Though she did let her pride do a lot of the talking for a while. She’s gotten better.”

“She’s your girlfriend?” Gwen asked, smiling sweetly. Percy nodded, smiling too as he thought of Annabeth. 

I shook my head. “Look, if the thing . . . I pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. “You don’t just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or…your parent.”

There was a collective, “Oohh, now it makes sense.”

Hazel nodded, her eyes lighting up as she remembered something, “That’s what you meant about the cohorts the first day.” 

Percy blinked thinking back, “Huh, I guess some part of me remembered.”

She stared at me, waiting for me to get it. . . . A half-blood.

I was reeling with so many questions I didn’t know where to start.

“Some of this is really helpful stuff to know, but it's buried in a pile of unnecessary information, superiority, and just expecting you to instantly understand,” Reyna grumbled, staring at the book with an almost pained expression.

There were several nods. Frank seemed concerned about the teacher thing, so Percy was quick to reassure him that Annabeth had been exaggerating. 

Then a husky voice yelled, “Well! A newbie!” . . . “So I can run you through with it Friday night.”

Again Percy was asked to read the Greek.

“Erre es korakas!” Annabeth said, . . . I blinked. “Like…the war god?”

Frank sighed and put his head in his hands for a second before sitting back up, turning to Percy and saying, “I can't believe you wanted to be my friend still, even after you found out who my dad was if this was the first of his children you met.”

Percy grinned, “Of course I still wanted to be your friend man. Who wouldn’t want to be your friend?” Next to him Hazel was nodding along.

Clarisse sneered. “You got a problem with that?” . . . Clarisse had me by the neck and was dragging me toward a cinder-block building that I knew immediately was the bathroom.

Several people scoffed and rolled their eyes at this, muttering to each other about how this would never be tolerated in their camp and how in-fighting was one of the best ways to sabotage your own army. Percy and the rest of the fifth cohort glanced at each other, eyebrows raised at the irony of those statements. 

I was kicking and punching. . . .  “Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking.”

Her friends snickered.

More rolling of eyes.

Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers. . . . I looked down and realized I was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around me. I didn’t have one drop of water on my clothes. Nothing.

Everyone, even Octavian who had been staring up at the sky this entire time, was now staring at Percy with their mouths hanging open.

“That was with no training?” Hazel finally broke the deafening silence that had been weighing Percy down. He nodded at her, not sure what to say to all their wide eyes and speechless mouths.

Reyna cleared her throat, making them all snap out of it and Summer started reading again.  

I stood up, my legs shaky. . . . I probably should have let it go, but I said, “You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth.”

Several surprised laughs were heard around the room. Reyna looked at him unimpressed, “Was that really necessary Praetor Jackson?”

“Probably not, but I enjoyed saying it,” Percy admitted, which only made Reyna roll her eyes.

Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Annabeth stared at me. I couldn’t tell whether she was just grossed out or angry at me for dousing her.

“Probably a little of both,” Gwen murmured softly, glancing at Percy with amusement. 

“What?” I demanded. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” she said, “that I want you on my team for capture the flag.”

“Why do I feel like something is going to go wrong at this game,” Frank said, looking at Percy in worry. Percy just smiled to try and comfort his friend, as there was nothing he could say to contradict what Frank was feeling.

Chapter Text

As the book was put back down with the others Percy stood. Hazel reached for him trying to pull him back as he walked back to the other Praetor chair. He shook his head murmuring, “I should be at the front so we can all see each other while I answer questions.”

Frank took her hand and watched Percy walk away with concern. Frank, just like Hazel, didn't want Percy to leave. As everyone settled, Reyna cleared her throat and announced, “We should go one at a time, okay,” she sat up straighter, “We will go from my right to left, so who would like to go first?”  

“Why don’t we start with the differences of fauns in both camps,” Michael suggested.

“Well, many satyrs go to Camp Half-Blood to become a Searcher to search for Pan, the god of the Wild. Long ago, Pan disappeared, as the modern civilization was tearing apart the wild. Grover explains this better to me later on, I can’t really say much as it would be spoilers,” Percy cleared his throat, shifting around in his seat for a second.

“They are sent out for demigods too though?” Summer asked, her brows furrowing. Hazel leaned forward, also interested in these answers, she desperately wanted to hear about her friend's home and culture. She hoped they could all learn new things and, glancing at Octavian’s scrunched nose and reddening face, become more tolerant to the Greeks.  

Nodding Percy continued, “They also work for Camp Half-Blood and go out into the world to search for Greek demigods. While searching, they wear disguises, such as fake feet and hats that hide their horns. Here, fauns tend to be content with lounging around and begging for money and are often used for amusement purposes. With the exception of the fauns acting as nurses following the Battle a couple days ago they are seen as pretty useless. The fauns of Camp Jupiter are essentially the complete opposite of satyrs at Camp Half-Blood,” Percy paused, taking a breath before continuing, “Though they all have the same type of abilities such as, detecting half-bloods and monsters by scent- just not underground- again that’s explained better later by Grover, Wood Magic and Nature Manipulation via; pipes, the ability to talk to animals and some monsters, they have animal-level hearing and smell, can eat recyclable material, wood, and grass, can run at superhuman speeds, along with climbing, can sense nature magic and people’s emotions, age at half the rate of a human or demigod, and when they die, they are reincarnated as plants or trees.”

Several people blinked as Percy stopped talking, slowly digesting that amount of information. Hazel’s eyes widened at the sheer potential the fauns had that had never been seen or used. 

After a minute of complete silence Reyna sat up straighter and cleared her throat before asking who wanted to ask a question next.

Grace raised her hand asking, “The centaur, Chiron, mentioned a ‘house call’. It sounded like they were rare.”

Percy nodded slowly, “They are, usually Chiron doesn’t leave camp, unless he’s going to Olympus. If anyone goes to help a satyr it’s usually a demigod.” 

“Okay, he also mentioned getting to camp was a test, and you said it was similar to what Lupa does?” Grace clarified.

Percy hummed as he tilted his head, clearly in thought. While he figured out what to say, Hazel carefully observed her friend. He was lounging in the praetor chair like it was a throne and he, the easy-going reigning king. His dark hair stuck up in strange places from the multiple times he had run his hand through it, or pulled at it during the reading, it somehow made him more handsome than he was before. Despite the laid back nature he had and the relaxed air he was exuding Hazel could see past the facade to the nervous and pained boy beneath. One glance at Frank she knew that he could see it too. Percy was struggling with something pertaining to the books already, and they were the only ones to see it, and despite her efforts Hazel couldn’t figure out the specifics. 

“It’s similar in some ways but also very different,” Percy finally started his answer, “The demigods who are coming to camp don’t get training ahead of time, like you guys do with Lupa before coming to Camp Jupiter. We’re just expected to make it to camp with monsters on our tail, usually without a weapon either. It’s meant to be exactly what Chiron called it - a test. To gauge what kind of hero you might grow to be.”

“Why?” Several people cried out at once, genuine shock, horror, and anger at the situation Percy was describing. Hazel couldn’t see how that type of test was in any way smart or necessary. Percy gave them all sympathetic looks as he shrugged. 

“I for one,” Dakota spoke up, “want to hear about my father.”

“Well,” Percy clicked his tongue a couple times, it sounded eerily similar to a dolphin, as he tilted his head from side to side, “You heard about how it’s a punishment from his father, and he is supposed to be there to watch and protect us.”

“Supposed to?” Gwen asked.

Percy hummed, “He doesn’t do his job too well, there’ll be more of that later on. Anything else?”

“Alright,” Ben called, “What about that Mars- er Ares daughter, Clarisse?”

Percy raised an eyebrow before asking in a scarily calm voice, “What about her?”  Hazel could see whirlpools dancing in his eyes, suggesting that Ben tread very carefully, for if this question was in any way rude or offensive Percy would give him the Octavian treatment. 

“Why was she allowed to do that?” Ben clarified.

“It’s not that she’s allowed necessarily,” Percy sighed, “It has to do with the unofficial hierarchy at the time, as well as the fact that stuff like that never makes it to Chiron or Mr D, it’s handled between cabins, so she technically doesn’t get punished for it.”

“Technically?” Reyna asked, sitting forward slightly. 

“It depends which cabins are involved, different cabins can do different levels of damage, and each one has a different way of handling conflict,” He paused and glanced at the book, “You know it will be easier to explain after you guys hear about the capture-the-flag game.”

“Well then, should we continue?” Reyna asked. While everyone was murmuring their affirmations and getting comfortable again, Hazel sighed and Frank relaxed his muscles as Percy came back over to them. 

“It’s okay,” He murmured to them, “Everything’s okay.” 

“Ready?” Larry called, “ My Dinner Goes Up In Smoke ”

Chapter Text

WORD OF THE BATHROOM INCIDENT spread immediately. Wherever I went, campers pointed at me and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Annabeth, who was still pretty much dripping wet.

She showed me a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn’t get to the top fast enough.

“That’s intense,” Larry muttered mostly to himself. Frank nodded along, however, grateful the Romans didn’t have anything like that, even though they had plenty of their own intense activities.

Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins. . . . “Not who. What. The Oracle. I’ll ask Chiron.”

I stared into the lake, wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once.

Reyna nodded, eyes slightly narrowed in displeasure at how this interaction was going Frank was sure everyone in the room agreed judging by the expressions on their faces.

I wasn’t expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skipped a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved as if I were a long-lost friend.

I didn’t know what else to do. I waved back.

Hazel smiled at Percy and whispered, “That’s so sweet.”

Shrugging, Percy said, “I was just being polite.” Frank swore there was a slight pinkish hue to Percy’s cheeks and he wondered how often his friend was genuinely complimented for him to be even slightly flustered over a tiny one like that. Not that Frank was any better, he could acknowledge that, but Frank wasn’t Percy.

“Don’t encourage them,” Annabeth warned. “Naiads are terrible flirts.” . . . I felt a tingling in my limbs, a sensation I sometimes felt when my mom talked about my dad, “God,” I said. “Half-god.”

Annabeth nodded. “Your father isn’t dead, Percy. He’s one of the Olympians.”

“Only Olympians?” Summer asked, concern etched on her face.

“No,” Percy reassured, “but until recently we didn’t have cabins for the minor gods, so even if they were claimed the kids of those gods would still stay in the Hermes cabin.”

Reyna’s eyes widened slightly as anyone not already looking at Percy turned to stare at him in thinly veiled horror and for some there was even a little disgust. “Hey,” Percy protested, throwing up his hands, “I didn’t make or run the system, and like I said it’s different now.”

“That’s…crazy.”

“Is it? What’s the most common thing gods did in the old stories? . . . “What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?”

“Why was that her first thought?” One of the ghosts wondered.

Percy tilted his head, “I don’t actually know. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t respect her mom?” 

“Who’s your mom, then?”

“Cabin six.”

“Meaning?”

Annabeth straightened. “Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle.”

Okay, I thought. Why not?

“Who?” Reyna asked.

“Minerva,” Percy muttered, wincing as Octavian screeched. Frank sighed harshly through his nose. Hazel pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t even start,” Hazel hissed, her fingers twitching towards a clip in her hair. Frank knew that despite Terminus not considering it a weapon and taking it from her, Hazel could make it a weapon if she really wanted to hurt someone.

“How does that work? Is Lady Athena not a maiden goddess?” Ben asked, leaning forward trying to read over Larry’s shoulder.

“She is. Her children are born the same way she was, from her head,” Percy informed them all as he kept eye contact with Octavian. Octavian glared harshly but there was a slight red tinge to his cheeks as he relaxed back in his chair.

“And my dad?”

“Undetermined,” Annabeth said, “like I told you before. Nobody knows.” . . . I thought about some of the kids I’d seen in the Hermes cabin, teenagers who looked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would never come. I’d known kids like that at Yancy Academy, shuffled off to boarding school by rich parents who didn’t have the time to deal with them. But gods should behave better.

Frank blinked slowly as he thought about this. The Greeks didn’t have a set time that the gods have to claim their children like the Romans did? That certainly shed some light on why Percy acted the way he did toward the gods but Frank was sure this issue was only the tip of the iceberg.

“So I’m stuck here,” I said. “That’s it? For the rest of my life?”

“It depends,” Annabeth said. “Some campers only stay for the summer. If you’re a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you’re probably not a real powerful force. 

“Hey,” Both Michael and Gwen cried. The both glared daggers at the book making Larry’s hands shake slightly and his voice waver as he continued reading.

The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. . . . “Practice fights. Practical jokes.”

“Practical jokes?”

Reyna’s eyebrows shot up at that. Glancing at the other Centurions, Frank could tell they were all concerned as well. Why would anyone summon a monster for a joke? That could seriously harm someone if not kill them. Looking at Percy, Frank asked a silent question, thanking the gods that Percy was so perceptive. “We don’t do that anymore. Not after that summer,” Percy assured Frank, though he made sure everyone heard him. Hazel’s eyebrows drew together as she shared a concerned glance with Frank. He knew what she was thinking, The reason they stopped had something to do with Percy didn’t it? And How bad was it?  

“The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm.”

“So…you’re a year-rounder?”

Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt, she pulled a leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. It was just like Luke’s, except Annabeth’s also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring.

Percy fingered his own necklace, sadness overtaking his face as he stared at his last bead that depicted a building surrounded by several markings on it in a language Frank didn’t recognize.

“I’ve been here since I was seven,” she said. “Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I’ve been here longer than most of the counselors, and they’re all in college.” . . . She clenched her fists. “I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won’t tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal.”

“You’ve been to Olympus?”

“Lucky,” Noah grumbled.

Percy snorted, muttering quietly enough only Frank and Hazel heard, “Not really.”

“Some of us year-rounders—Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others— we took a field trip during the winter solstice. That’s when the gods have their big annual council.”

“But…how did you get there?”

“The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor.” 

“Interesting,” Reyna said, an intrigued and calculating look settling on her features.

She looked at me like she was sure I must know this already. “You are a New Yorker, right?” . . . I shook my head. I wished I could help her, but I felt too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions.

“I can imagine,” Gwen said sympathetically, reaching over and patting Percy’s arm.

“I’ve got to get a quest,” Annabeth muttered to herself. “I’m not too young. If they would just tell me the problem…”. . . “Found you a sleeping bag,” he said. “And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store.”

I couldn’t tell if he was kidding about the stealing part.

“If he’s anything like the children of Mercury we have here, he wasn’t,” Reyna groaned, shaking her head. Larry chuckled, earning him a scathing glare from Reyna.

I said, “Thanks.”

“No prob.” Luke sat next to me, pushed his back against the wall. . . . Luke looked up and managed a smile. “Don’t worry about it, Percy. The campers here, they’re mostly good people. After all, we’re extended family, right? We take care of each other.”

Percy scoffed at that but didn’t elaborate, despite the questioning looks he was being sent. He didn’t even answer when Hazel asked if he was okay.

He seemed to understand how lost I felt, and I was grateful for that, because an older guy like him—even if he was a counselor—should’ve steered clear of an uncool middle-schooler like me. But Luke had welcomed me into the cabin. He’d even stolen me some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody had done for me all day.

Frank gently laid his hand on Percy’s clenched fists and he saw out the corner of his eye Hazel laid her head on Percy’s shoulder. Their friend slowly started to relax his muscles, slightly slumping against the two of them. 

I decided to ask him my last big question, the one that had been bothering me all afternoon. “Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me being ‘Big Three’ material. . . . The whole cabin, about twenty of us, filed into the commons yard. We lined up in order of seniority, so of course I was dead last.

“We do that too,” Gwen whispered to herself as she wrote something in the corner of her notebook.

Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for the last three empty cabins at the end, and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime, but was now starting to glow silver as the sun went down. . . . Then I had an idea. “Blue Cherry Coke.”

Hazel giggled as the three of them shared a look remembering Percy’s first night at Camp Jupiter and he had done practically the same thing.

The soda turned a violent shade of cobalt. I took a cautious sip. Perfect. I drank a toast to my mother.

She’s not gone, I told myself. Not permanently, anyway. She’s in the Underworld. And if that’s a real place, then someday…

“Oh gods,” Someone sighed, though Frank didn’t recognize the voice and when he glanced behind him he saw the other Centurions turning to look at the ghosts in the back.

“Here you go, Percy,” Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket. . . . “Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell.”

“Why?” Reyna questioned.

“We don’t have temples at Camp Half-blood like you do here,” Percy said.

“You’re kidding.”

His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn’t help wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food. . . . “I couldn’t care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson.”

“Why does he do that?” Dakota suddenly sat up from where he had been leaning against Gwen. From the way his hair was sticking up Frank was positive she had been running her fingers through Dakota’s dark hair.

“I don't know exactly, but most of the campers agree with one main theory,” Percy started, “We all think it’s so he can create some emotional distance from us as we often die young and he doesn’t want to get attached."

Chiron murmured something.

“Er, Percy Jackson,” Mr. D corrected. . . . I wish I’d known how briefly I would get to enjoy my new home.

Frank’s eyes narrowed at that, his loose grip on his friend’s hand tightening slightly at that ominous ending. As Ben took the book to read there was another flash of light. Blinking to get the spots out of his eyes he vaguely saw a beautiful woman standing in the middle of the senate observing all of them, he heard gasps and Reyna’s voice, presumably asking who this woman was.

The spots finally cleared as the woman answered with a sugary smile, “Why my dear Praetor, I am the Titaness Rhea. And I have a few questions.”

Chapter Text

Rhea was having a lovely day. Actually she had been having a lovely day until she noticed that time seemed to have frozen while she was out and about visiting the mortal world debating whether or not to visit her children soon, see what they had been up to recently. 

The power she felt freezing time didn’t feel like her husband's, not harsh or oppressive. Attempting to pinpoint where the power was coming from had led her to the senate in New Rome. As both Praetors - one of which was Po's son, her grandson - explained what the fates were attempting she felt a migraine coming on. Doubling over at the pain in her head she heard muffled voices calling to her as she had information forced into her mind. The first seven chapters of information were now known to her. Looking up she found her grandson, her son’s little sea-star, her little pearl stood in front of her looking worried. Reaching out and running her fingers through his dark curls Rhea straightened and smiled. “I’m all right, little pearl. I believe the fates wish me to stay and they showed me everything you have read up to this point,” Rhea assured him.

Perseus nodded slowly, looking a little nervous and embarrassed to have her showing affection in front of all the other mortals in the room. He cleared his throat and muttered, “Well should we continue then grandma? If you’re staying?”

Rhea chuckled, glad he did not insist on formalities, they were family after all, “I believe so.” Turning to follow her grandson she noticed the senators looking at her nervous and confused. Smiling to put them a little more at ease as she settled next to her Roman granddaughter, Pluto’s girl smiled at Rhea before turning to the boy holding the book and taking Perseus’s hand.  

We Capture A Flag

THE NEXT FEW DAYS I SETTLED INTO a routine that felt almost normal, if you don’t count the fact that I was getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur.

Each morning I took Ancient Greek from Annabeth, and we talked about the gods and goddesses in the present tense, which was kind of weird. I discovered Annabeth was right about my dyslexia: Ancient Greek wasn’t that hard for me to read. At least, no harder than English. After a couple of mornings, I could stumble through a few lines of Homer without too much headache.

“Good job, little pearl,” Rhea murmured softly, causing the boy to blush and rub the back of his neck. Pluto’s daughter and the boy sitting on the other side of Perseus both smiled encouragingly at him whispering their agreement. 

The rest of the day, I’d rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something I was good at. . . . Despite all that, I liked camp. I got used to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night. I would eat dinner with cabin eleven, scrape part of my meal into the fire, and try to feel some connection to my real dad. Nothing came. 

“Why not, my son usually claims his children as soon as possible,” Rhea tilted her head as she regarded Perseus who simply shrugged and muttered what sounded like ‘no spoilers’. A few Romans had also looked at Rhea’s little pearl curiously but after a raised hand and a look from the Praetor they all turned away.

Just that warm feeling I’d always had, like the memory of his smile. . . . We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. I guess I did okay. At least, I understood what I was supposed to do and my reflexes were good.

The boy next to Perseus - she really should learn all these mortal’s names - raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak despite looking like he wanted to. She would have to convince them they did not have to hold on to their Roman ideals around her, she didn’t mind them speaking.

The problem was, I couldn’t find a blade that felt right in my hands. . . . Great, I thought. Let’s all watch Percy get pounded.

The Hermes guys gathered around. They were suppressing smiles. I figured they’d been in my shoes before and couldn’t wait to see how Luke used me for a punching bag. 

Rhea’s granddaughter frowned slightly at that sentence and whispered a question into Perseus’s ear which he shook his head to. Rhea almost asked what they were talking about but wasn’t sure they were comfortable enough to share yet.

He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy’s blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon. . . . My blade hit the base of Luke’s and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust.

Clang.

Several gasps rang out as well as compliments and congratulations for her little pearl’s accomplishment.  

Luke’s sword rattled against the stones. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended chest.

The other campers were silent.

I lowered my sword. “Um, sorry.”

"Don't apologize, that you were able to do it is a good thing," The Praetor assured Rhea's grandson. He nodded a slight smirk flitting across his face as if he was remembering a fond memory associated with this sword maneuver.

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak. . . . “Blaa-ha-ha! He might as well have transferred me to stable-cleaning duty. The chances of you getting a quest…and even if you did, why would you want me along?”

“Of course I’d want you along!”

The Praetor nodded, “It does sound like Fauns are more helpful than we believed. Grover could be helpful,” the girl paused, “And of course because the two of you are friends.” Perseus chuckled as he nodded.

Grover stared glumly into the water. “Basket-weaving…Must be nice to have a useful skill.” . . . “She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn’t have one, she’d be mad.”

“Her hunters also use it when they stay at camp," Perseus informed the senate. 

“Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the Big Three?”

Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject. “No. One of them, number two, is Hera’s,” he said. “That’s another honorary thing. She’s the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn’t go around having affairs with mortals. That’s her husband’s job. 

Rhea raised an eyebrow taking a mental note to speak to her children about this. She was sure her daughter could not be happy with this arrangement and seemingly common held belief of Zeus, given her domain of marriage. A few senators side eyed each other at that statement as well.

When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos.” . . . “No. He doesn’t have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here…” Grover shuddered. “Well, it wouldn’t be pleasant. Let’s leave it at that.”

“What did your friend mean by that?” Rhea questioned Perseus, offended on her eldest son’s behalf.

“Well there were a lot of prejudices against Hades at the time, there’s still a bit now but it’s mostly gotten better,” her grandson clicked his tongue in a way that sounded exactly like his father when said god had been young and he would slip easily between Greek and the languages of the sea, “I also think he just didn’t like the idea because he’s a being of nature and they don’t like underground and death all that much.”

“But Zeus and Poseidon—they both had, like, a bazillion kids in the myths. Why are their cabins empty?” . . .When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia…well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he’s immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter.”

“But that isn’t fair! It wasn’t the little girl’s fault.”

“No it’s not,” Rhea murmured sadly, shaking her head. She remembered when she had heard about her granddaughter, she had been devastated to find out that the child had been born over a decade before and was now a tree. She would have loved to meet the girl. At least Poseidon had the decency to tell his mother when she had a new grandchild, immortal or otherwise. Rhea had watched the little pearl from afar having been told of the mother’s wish for independence, she had unfortunately only seen rare snapshots of his life because of this as well as her tendency to not venture out into the world often.

Grover hesitated. “Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. . . . “No. Never. Orpheus came close….Percy, you’re not seriously thinking—”

“No,” I lied. “I was just wondering. So…a satyr is always assigned to guard a demigod?”

“Oh little one, you are just like your father,” Rhea laughed under her breath. Her little pearl smiled at her though his cheeks were tinged pink from embarrassment. Whether from the name she was using to refer to him or the comparison to his father Rhea couldn’t tell.

Grover studied me warily. I hadn’t persuaded him that I’d really dropped the Underworld idea. . . . “So, if another cabin captures one, what do you do—repaint the flag?”

He grinned. “You’ll see. First we have to get one.”

The boy next to Perseus asked, “What do you do?”

“It should tell you by the end of this chapter Frank, don’t worry about it,” Perseus shrugged. Ah, Rhea thought, that’s the boy’s name.

“Whose side are we on?”

He gave me a sly look, as if he knew something I didn’t. The scar on his face made him look almost evil in the torchlight.

Rhea watched in concern as Perseus flinched slightly and sucked in a sharp breath. His friends, Frank and Pluto’s daughter, both turned to him immediately checking if he was alright, but he refused to speak about it.

“We’ve made a temporary alliance with Athena. Tonight, we get the flag from Ares. And you are going to help.” . . . “Heroes!” he announced. “You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!”

“Good rules,” the Praetor acknowledged with a small nod.

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, ox-hide shields coated in metal. . . . Standing there alone, with my big blue-feathered helmet and my huge shield, I felt like an idiot. The bronze sword, like all the swords I’d tried so far, seemed balanced wrong. The leather grip pulled on my hands like a bowling ball.

“This is not going to end well is it?” the boy reading interrupted himself. Perseus winced slightly but didn’t reply verbally.

There was no way anybody would actually attack me, would they? . . . I raised my shield instinctively; I had the feeling something was stalking me.

Rhea listened carefully, attempting to figure out what it could be. She could also see the demigods around her getting tense, occasionally throwing her grandson worried looks.

Then the growling stopped. I felt the presence retreating.

On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Five Ares warriors came yelling and screaming out of the dark.

“Cream the punk!” Clarisse screamed.

“What?” the Praetor hissed, sitting up straight, her eyes narrowing in a righteous fury Rhea sometimes saw in her sons, mothers, and actually decent political leaders. This was the fury of someone listening to a person under their protection be unfairly targeted while knowing there was nothing they could do to save them.

Her ugly pig eyes glared through the slits of her helmet. She brandished a five-foot-long spear, its barbed metal tip flickering with red light. . . . My shield arm went numb and the air burned.

Electricity. Her stupid spear was electric. I fell back.

Perseus grunted quietly. Rhea furrowed her brows as she watched him shake his arm a little, an uncomfortable grimace flashing across his face. Rhea became increasingly worried when the two mortals next to her little pearl clearly grew upset and confused. 

Another Ares guy slammed me in the chest with the butt of his sword and I hit the dirt. . . . “The flag is that way,” I told her. I wanted to sound angry, but I was afraid it didn’t come out that way.

The Praetor raised an eyebrow as she shot a curious look at Perseus. Rhea wasn’t sure what she was silently asking, but clearly Perseus did as he chuckled, “I pointed the wrong way.” The girl’s lips twitched upwards and nodded, as if a suspicion of hers had been confirmed.

“Yeah,” one of her siblings said. “But see, we don’t care about the flag. We care about a guy who made our cabin look stupid.” . . . One of her cabinmates slashed his sword across my arm, leaving a good-size cut.

The ground shook as precious metals started to decorate the room at their feet. A low growl reverberated around the circular building originating from Frank, to Rhea’s surprise, he'd seemed like such a calm sweet boy. Perseus hissed softly drawing everyone’s attention. Rhea’s eyes widened when she saw the blood and a scream rang out. Before anyone else could speak, Rhea's little pearl explained, “Fate’s price.”

Gasps echoed as the Praetor jumped out of her seat and ran to a piece of paper on a podium next to the rest of the books. “Perseus-” Rhea began.

“Percy,” he corrected, “please.”

“Percy,” Rhea agreed, “Did you know?”

“I guessed.”

“Shist,” Pluto’s daughter hissed, gripping Percy’s hand. He winced as he soothed her, calling her Hazel. Rhea filed that information away. The Praetor suddenly slammed her fist down, gaining the attention of all the senators and ceasing the buzzing of concerned voices.

“We must continue, that is the only way this will end,” She ordered. The senators seemed quite reluctant but the boy holding the book still held it back up and continued with a slight waver in his voice.

Seeing my own blood made me dizzy—warm and cold at the same time.

“No maiming,” I managed to say.

“Oops,” the guy said. “Guess I lost my dessert privilege.”

“That’s the punishment?” the girl next to Frank practically shrieked.

Percy shrugged, “I- Yeah, Gwen it is, Mr. D and Chiron don’t think the punishments need to be too harsh as there are hardly any issues in camp.”

The Praetor raised an eyebrow, dubious, in fact everyone, including herself, looked confused and unsure at the little pearl’s response. Percy snorted, “At least, that’s what they think. Most issues are handled internally and never actually make it to Chiron,” he paused and winced slightly as he shifted his arm, “Even less make it to Mr. D.”

“Is that how issues are usually handled? Fighting it out?” Rhea fretted, she didn’t like the idea of the children hurting each other instead of talking it out. She supposed they got it from their parents, though that didn’t mean she didn’t worry, they were still mortal, unlike their parents.  

“No, that’s not how it’s handled at all. That was just Annabeth’s strategy,” Percy sighed, “It’s complicated. I can explain it sometime later. Promise,” he shot her an attempt at a blinding smile but it was more of a grimace than anything.

He pushed me into the creek and I landed with a splash. They all laughed. . . . As soon as she thrust, I caught the shaft between the edge of my shield and my sword, and I snapped it like a twig.

The cheers were deafening as the Romans briefly dropped their rigid, politeness. Several people clapped her little pearl on the shoulder as they laughed and congratulated him. 

“Ah!” she screamed. “You idiot! You corpse-breath worm!” . . . “You set me up,” I said. “You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out.”

Annabeth shrugged. “I told you. Athena always, always has a plan.”

Another growl escaped Frank though it was accompanied by several others who were clearly friends with Percy. He attempted to calm them, but it was clear they weren't listening.

“A plan to get me pulverized.” . . . The blood was gone. Where the huge cut had been, there was a long white scratch, and even that was fading. As I watched, it turned into a small scar, and disappeared.

Hazel sighed and slumped against Percy as the cut disappeared. Rhea giggled softly as she watched her grandchildren. They were so adorable, just like their fathers.

“I—I don’t get it,” I said.

Annabeth was thinking hard. I could almost see the gears turning. . . . By some miracle, I was still alive. I didn’t want to look underneath the ruins of my shredded armor. My chest felt warm and wet, and I knew I was badly cut. Another second, and the monster would’ve turned me into a hundred pounds of delicatessen meat.

Hazel let out a whimper at the blood on Percy’s chest. Rhea thanked the Fates for not ripping her little pearl’s shirt as well. Despite looking like she wanted to check on Percy, the Praetor gestured the boy with the book should continue. 

Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim. . . . “You’re wounded,” Annabeth told me. “Quick, Percy, get in the water.”

“I’m okay.”

Frank and Hazel both stared at Percy, incredulous. He had the audacity to laugh softly at their faces. Rhea sighed, Just like his father.

“No, you’re not,” she said. “Chiron, watch this.” . . . “Look, I—I don’t know why,” I said, trying to apologize. “I’m sorry….”

“You don’t need to apologize for your powers, little pearl,” Rhea said, earning a small smile.

“I know grandma.” 

But they weren’t watching my wounds heal. They were staring at something above my head.

“Percy,” Annabeth said, pointing. “Um…”

By the time I looked up, the sign was already fading, but I could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident.

“Oh, good,” Rhea relaxed as her son finally claimed his child.

“Your father,” Annabeth murmured. “This is really not good.”

“Excuse me?” She exclaimed. Just because her son had a child did not mean it was the end of the world, no matter what the Romans believed. For this girl - a daughter of Rhea’s granddaughter no less - to insinuate such was incredibly rude, she should be glad her son was more laid back than he used to be during the ancient times or she would be either cursed or dead for not only her disrespect but the plan of hers that had hurt Po’s only mortal child.

“Grandma?” Her little pearl looked at her confused and a little worried.

“Nothing dear,” She calmed herself, she needn't scare the little pearl.

“It is determined,” Chiron announced. . . . “Poseidon,” said Chiron. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

“We should stop for food in a few chapters,” The Praetor decided, “You can tell us in depth about the cabin politics then, yes Praetor Jackson?”

“Of course Reyna.”

Rhea frowned as the next title was read out. A quest? Why?