Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.

If life had a refund policy I’d probably voided the warranty the day I was born. We’re not starting there though. My story, the one worth telling at least, started in May. I was still enrolled in Yancy Academy’s “Corrective Learning Program”, which was a more polite way to describe an underfunded and understaffed tax break for the yuppies funding the school. 

We slept in private dormitories and got regular checks for contraband. That meant anything from cell phones, not that kids didn’t break that one on a daily basis, food, that one was hard on my dorm mate Grover, and drugs. You might be saying ‘Gee Percy, you’re only a middle schooler. There’s no way you could be doing drugs!’ 

You’d be right about that. I didn’t use an ounce of what I sold. Before you go and start judging me, not like this explanation will stop you, I never gave people anything they weren’t looking for. When you go to school with a bunch of kids who get sent to private school for crashing luxury cars or pawning their parent’s one of a kind watches for cash, you're entering an active market. Plus, I got more out of selling my adderall rather than taking it. 

Yes, I had a prescription for it and yes, I am one of those guys who can’t get through a quiet class period to save his life. I’m not about to start blaming my ADHD for my school problems, though they didn’t do much to help with my dyslexia. The problem was every time I got sat down with a guidance counselor or school therapist it was “Check your dosage” this, or “Special education” that. That kind of thing might have worked on other kids but the sedated lifestyle wasn’t for me. 

I couldn’t stand whatever they tried to push on me. Whenever I tried taking them instead of the promises of focus and finally being able to sit still all I got were headaches and nightmares. It was like my head was being wrapped in shrink wrap while someone tried to suck the eyes out of my skull with a straw. 

Safe to say I was better off pawning the pills and being one more on the chain of “hopeless cases” making Yancy more money than I could hope to get pushing. 

I’m getting off topic though. I just need you to understand how it felt every time Mr. Brunner wheeled into my dorm and started inspecting it. Having your Latin teacher give you a pat down from his chair isn’t any less demeaning when you’re the one standing. 

Remember me saying the program was understaffed? Well that meant that the same guy expected to corral thirty plus head cases in a classroom every day also had to make sure that we weren’t getting into trouble outside of lectures. 

He was still better than the female dorm mother. Our Algebra teacher Mrs. Dodds would have shredded the first kid to have so much as a paperclip out of alignment. 

Mr. Brunner had a lot more patience for us, I respected that as much as I could respect a teacher for checking under my mattress once a week. 

That patience was on full display Thursday morning when he found Grover’s fruit stash underneath his bed. 

“Honestly Mr. Underwood, we’ve had this talk before,” he said gesturing with an apple before setting it in his lap. 

“Sir, you know I need to snack or my blood sugar gets out of whack!” Grover pleaded, his fruit was worth more than his shoes to him. 

“A problem that wouldn’t exist if you simply accepted the cafeteria food for what it is,” Mr. Brunner said with a practiced tone.

“You can’t even call that mess food!” Grover said, crossing his arms. 

Mr. Brunner just sighed. He was the only teacher I knew who would be disappointed with a student for eating his vegetables. He wheeled around to face me, still balancing the confiscated bushel on his lap. 

“As for you Percy, the food restrictions extend to beverages. If I find you with another bottle of soda it’ll have to be a detention,” he said.

I just huffed and handed over my bottle of grape Fanta. I might not have gotten high on my own supply but I was still a major fiend for sugar. 

“We both know the bottle isn’t the purple part of the equation,” he said, shaking it in front of me and letting the fizzing sounds echo in the silence. 

I just nodded and promised to follow the rules better. For some reason I always felt bad testing Mr. Brunner’s patience. Maybe it was because I felt bad for him being in a wheelchair, maybe it was because he had to deal with the spoiled brats I had for classmates, or maybe it was the fact he always seemed so tired. It was like he’d been working with troubled kids for years and could see how we’d turn out the moment he saw us. 

He took in a deep breath before continuing. “Now then, seeing as I didn’t find anything out of order in my inspection you two are cleared to join the rest of class on our trip to the MET later,” he said, “I do still expect you two to take notes, I’ll see you on the bus in about an hour.” 

Me and Grover were left awestruck in our dorm. Field trips were rare for us at Yancy, especially to a place with entrance fees. Despite the fact I’d have to actually take notes on a real work of art I actually felt excited.

Looking back I wished I’d just stayed behind and printed something off the internet. But my life wouldn’t be much of a story if that happened, would it?

———————————————————————

The trip was already off to a great start when me and Grover wound up sitting in front of Nancy Bobofit. What she lacked in a normal last name she made up for in sheer entitlement and sadism. 

Yet no matter how many times the other girls in her dorms tattled or pleaded Mrs. Dodds didn’t bat an eye. That same eye considered Nancy a star pupil. 

I wondered if it was a glass eye with how it could stare right at Nancy picking on one kid and not see a thing yet still catch me tearing at my eraser under my desk and make me stay after class to pick up each piece off the floor. 

It was no surprise the moment she started talking about her father’s newest logging project. I could never tell if she was doing an impression of a chainsaw or if that was just how she laughed whenever she started bragging about her dad’s deforestation business. More than that though it was how she bragged about it, like whatever grand scheme her dad was running to keep his business afloat was enough for her to be just as important and impressive. 

You’d think a girl with an ounce of metal on each tooth would learn to shut up for a minute but no, I had to listen to her chainsaw laugh and mispronunciation of tree names all the way into New York. 

I tried to be upbeat, I was back home, at least a few blocks away from it. I wondered what my mom would be doing right now. Probably daydreaming in between serving customers overpriced craft-microbrews. Because nothing says hip and with the times like day drinking with a $30 burger looking at posters of the same two guys’ vacation photos. 

I was pulled out of my head by the sound of the bus tires screeching to a halt. I stepped up from my seat and made sure to give Grover enough room to stand up with his crutches. He had a pair of mobility aids he took with him when he knew he’d be on his feet for a while, some kind of genetic disorder that meant his knees were all out of shape and place. He walked fine on his own but after a while I always heard him wincing with each step. 

“Ugh, why did we have to sit behind the pole dancer…” Nancy complained to her cackling friends right behind Grover’s back. 

That unfortunate nickname, the result of a particularly long day and a missing, as in stolen, crutch that had Grover spinning around trying not to fall over, was the final straw for me. I’d already been fuming the whole ride here and it only took one notch up on the Nancy scale for me to get up to an eleven. 

 If not for Grover I might have wound up throwing down with her right there on the bus. The look in Grover’s eyes was enough to stop me, a kind of fear I didn’t think happened unless you were staring down a bear or a loaded gun. All at once I felt the anger drain from me as the color disappeared from Grover’s face. Mrs. Dodds was staring down the rows of seats directly at me. I stumbled and caught myself on the back of one of the seats but the look in her eyes was burned into my head. 

“Come on kids, it’s a loading zone not a parking spot!” the driver called out, pulling me back to reality and up to my feet. 

I hurried off the bus, Grover following along as we joined the rest of our class. Once we were inside I started calming down but I still felt the hairs on my neck standing on edge. I didn’t even realize Mr. Brunner had called on someone when I noticed him looking at me expectantly.

“Come now, we began this year talking about the Greek origin myth. How the world formed out of chaos, the rise of Ouranous, the sky, and his wife Gaia, the Earth. How Ouranous imprisoned his children and in return was slain by his sons, the titans. How the titan lord Chronos was later usurped by his own children the gods during the Titanomachy…” he trailed off, I realized he was asking us what happened next. 

I glanced over at the art piece we were standing in front of. It looked like some guy had his head split open and an armored woman stood before him kneeling. It took every ounce of memory I had but I realized Mr. Brunner was talking about the birth of Athena. How Zeus had swallowed her mother while she was still pregnant and how Athena had been born from Zeus’s skull. I always thought Zeus was a real hypocrite for that move considering what his dad did to his siblings.

 It suddenly clicked as to why Mr. Brunner was talking about the entire history of the gods. Every time someone was in charge of the world they would get struck down by their children who would take their throne. 

“…nobody?” Mr. Brunner sighed, I felt the answer dying in my mouth as he turned his chair around, “Very well, but I implore you all to consider how the Ancient Greeks saw history as a cycle just as many historians of today do.” 

I felt my face getting red as I followed the group. It didn’t really matter, nobody else had spoken up. The problem was I knew I could have, then maybe Mr. Brunner wouldn’t be so disappointed. I didn’t know why it was getting to me so much, I never cared this much about how a teacher felt.

Before I could get any further into my feelings I suddenly tripped forward as one of Grover’s crutches caught the back of my shoe. He quickly apologized to me and the guy I’d fallen on. 

I didn’t sweat it, I could barely keep track of my own head listening to so many stories about gods and heroes and monsters. I fell back a bit, slowing my pace to match Grover. He was breathing heavily but it wasn’t his usual exertion. He sounded more like he was about to start crying or something before I tapped him on the shoulder. He gave me that same look from the bus, like there was a demon behind me about to bite my head off. 

“You okay man?” I asked.

“Y-yeah, just worried about the project is all. I can’t really take notes before we move on.”

“I can go ask Mr. Brunner if we could stop for a minute and take a break.”

“No! I’m f-fine. Just pay attention,” He said. 

The gravity in his voice seemed a little excessive for an essay but I knew how easy it was for Grover to get caught up in his anxiety. I was about to get back near the front of the group and see if maybe Mr. Brunner would ask something I knew when Grover grabbed my wrist. 

Before I could turn back to face him I felt a sting on my wrist. Looking down I saw a slap bracelet wrapped around my arm. Instead of some weird pattern and cheap plastic cover this one looked like it was covered in dark leather, almost like a watch strap. 

I looked at Grover confused but he seemed to relax a little bit once it was around my arm. I figured it was better to just let it go, once the sting faded it wasn’t actually uncomfortable, maybe a little heavy. 

———————————————————————

Later on while the class was taking a break for lunch me and Grover found a seat on the steps outside the MET. I was trying to keep calm and relax since it usually helped Grover get through an episode like this if I kept my cool. Not that it was easy, what with Grover constantly looking over his shoulders, tapping his shoes erratically, and gripping his crutches like he was prepared to run or beam someone over the head with them. I was about to suggest we try going inside and finding some piece for his essay when Nancy stumbled over one of Grover’s crutches. 

The following moments only came back to me after the fact. 

Nancy said more than a few words, the only one that mattered was ‘cripple’. I said something to Nancy, it might have been telling her to shut up, it might have been demanding an apology. Whatever she said after that was so brain dead all I heard was static. 

The next thing I knew I was on my feet looking down at Nancy halfway down the stairs sobbing and holding her thumb, only her thumb was against the back of her hand. 

“Percy Jackson!” Mrs. Dodds called out, pulling me back down to reality. 

Grover was on his feet grimacing yet still facing down Dodds’ glare. “Percy didn’t touch her! She just tripped!”

Her burning gaze shifted from me just long enough for Grover to let out a choked whimper before she was back on to me. 

“I’ll deal with you later Underwood. You, Mr. Jackson, are going to follow me,” she said, leaving no room for me to escape as she headed into the building. 

I began my slow walk into the lecture of a lifetime when Grover grabbed my wrist. His grip was so tight around my bracelet I could feel the metal underneath the cover digging into my arm. He gave me that same look, a powerless kind of fear soaked in shame. I could tell he was trying to say something but he couldn’t get it out before Mrs. Dodds called out my name one more time. 

I slipped out of his grip, adjusting my bracelet as I hurried to get my suspension penned quickly. 

———————————————————————

When Mrs. Dodds finally stopped her pacing we were back in the Greek Mythology section. I was trying to fix my bracelet but it seemed to be trying to cut my hand off the more I tugged on it to loosen it up. 

“You are quite the troublesome little brat Jackson…” Mrs. Dodds said, staring into the face of some ancient painting of a sneering monster. 

I just agreed with her, this bracelet was seriously starting to hurt. 

“It’s a wonder it took your mother this long to try sending you away,” she continued. 

I paused, feeling my heart beating in my swelling hand. I didn’t know what to say. I’d had condescending teachers before, but none of them ever said something so personal. 

“I suppose she thought she could keep a hold on you for as long as she pleased. She can’t really be blamed for not realizing just how special you really are,” Mrs. Dodds said. 

I could still feel my veins clamped down under my bracelet but that was the only thing keeping me in my body now. It felt like she’d cut open my chest and started stabbing my heart. Yet I didn’t even feel angry in the moment, or maybe I was so angry I wrapped back around to feeling calm. Only that couldn’t be right, my heart was racing and I could feel cold sweat pouring down my back. I counted each beat of my heart as Mrs. Dodds turned around. 

By the tenth beat I was face to face with her. I had to be losing circulation because her face looked… wrong. It was like all the skin on her head had been grabbed from behind and yanked. Her mouth was a twisted grin revealing a mouthful of fangs. Her eyes were bright red, staring right through me as though she could see every vein under my skin. Her nose was flattened out like a bat’s and sniffing the air deeply. 

“Ahh, such a sweet scent of fear. I’ll enjoy skinning you,” she said.

The next moment her face was gone, torn off like a wet paper bag revealing a bone white face no living thing could possibly have. She stepped out of her own body, leaving behind a soaking suit of skin and clothes as a massive pair of white wings unfurled behind her. I could see every vein running through her thin skin, pulsing and black like oil. She took one step halving the distance between us and with the next she was flying through the air at me. 

In that moment something snapped. The tension around my wrist suddenly released. I felt Mrs. Dodds crash into me as we both went down to the floor. I was staring into her glowing eyes as she bit into something in my hand. I could feel her pushing my elbow into the floor with the force of her jaw. Suddenly her eyes went wide as she leapt back, her mouth steaming. A feral screech erupted from her throat as I stared at the axe in my hand. 

It was rounded, almost a perfect half moon if not for the parts connecting it to the handle, and gleaming even in the dim light of the gallery. 

The handle was steaming where Dodds had touched it, beneath the wooden veneer of the handle the same metal was shining through the bite marks she’d left behind. 

Dodds stared at the axe almost as angry as when she’d glared at me as dark blood spilled from her charred mouth. 

“That damn kid …” she muttered, spitting out blood and climbing back to her feet.

I was still in awe gripping the weapon, it felt light, almost immaterial in my hand. I managed to get to my feet, staring at Mrs. Dodds as she eyed my axe warily. 

I could see her dark veins throbbing and pumping blood to the wound in her mouth. It steamed as it hit the floor, boiling away and disappearing as it did. 

I was drawn back into the moment as I saw the dark muscle beneath Dodds’ skin tense up, showing through her thin white skin. She was a blur but this time I could feel it coming. As her glistening fangs bore down on me I did the only thing that came to mind, I split her skull in half. 

I felt the blade pass through the top of her head, embedding itself against her jaw as dark blood poured down the front and back of her head. A deep gurgling noise came from her throat sending chills up my spine as her dark blood bubbled and hissed against the blade of my axe.In spite of the splitting headache I’d just given her, her eyes didn’t move an inch from my own even as her arms fell limp and her body started sinking into the pool of blood at our feet. 

It took me almost falling headfirst into the murky black pool to finally let go of my axe. I watched the handle sink into the pool hissing as it made contact with Dodds’ blood. Once her remains were fully submerged the pool began to boil away until there wasn’t so much as a stain left on the floor. 

———————————————————————

I don’t know how long I stayed there staring at the spot where Dodds’ body disappeared. I couldn’t tell if my heart was still beating or if it was even in my chest anymore. My ears were ringing in the silence of the room and I could hear the blood rushing through my head. 

I only came out of it when I heard the familiar sound of Grover’s crutches squeak through the silence. 

“Percy, where are you? Mr. Brunner says we’re leaving and you’re gonna miss the bus!” He called out.

I could hear a tinge of fear in his voice but the sound of my heart in my ears made it hard to tell. I scrambled to my feet just in time for him to round a corner. The look on his face when he saw me was beyond relief. He covered it up quickly but I almost thought he was going to burst into tears. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna get left behind. I still need you to tell me where to find something for my essay,” he said, turning around and walking off. 

I followed after him unsure of what to say. What could I say? I barely knew what just happened, let alone if any of it was real. 

“Hey, Grover…” I said slowly.

He turned back to look at me. For once I felt lost looking into his eyes. It was like there was some kind of static in my head, buzzing in my ears, like I’d just taken off a pair of glasses that weren’t prescription and my eyes were trying to remember what the world really looked like. I felt my tongue stop short in my mouth. I couldn’t talk about anything that just happened. 

“…I lost your bracelet,” was all I managed to get out.

Grover’s expression was still illegible as he looked at me before turning back towards the entrance. 

“It’s no big deal, it was just a souvenir,” he said casually. 

I rubbed my wrist, feeling suddenly itchy as we stepped outside into a coming rainstorm. I saw the rest of our class shuttling back onto the bus as Mr. Brunner spotted me and Grover coming down the front steps. From so far away, hidden beneath his flowing hair, I could barely make out his expression. I could only make out the faintest furrow in his brow before he was raised up onto the bus. 

Me and Grover joined the back of the class as we got back on the bus. I was still in a daze when a sudden foot in the lane sent me and Grover falling between the seats. I managed to twist back up to see Nancy leering down at me, holding up a thumb in a cast to her nose in a rude gesture. 

“Hey, don’t make me separate you two again!” I heard someone say from the back of the bus. 

I looked up to see a young woman with Auburn hair and glasses leaning out into the aisle glaring at me and Nancy. 

“Sorry Mrs. Dauterive, my foot got caught on his crutch,” Nancy said leaning back. 

I felt almost numb as Grover crawled out from under me brushing himself off. He led us to a seat on the bus. 

I was left staring into the worn vinyl seat in front of us. I couldn’t have imagined all of that, there was no way… right? Dodds wasn’t human though, might not have even been real. I winced, grabbing my head as the image of her burning eyes pierced through my brain. 

As the bus pulled out Grover handed me a water bottle.

“Here, don’t forget your prescription, you almost lost it last time,” he said.

I barely understood what he meant until I felt him tapping my backpack with his foot. I opened a side pocket and pulled out a small white pill bottle. 

The name was unintelligible, ezmonprhoilacr , but with a few nudges from Grover I took a tablet from the bottle. I didn’t feel any different after taking it, my headache was still a dull throb against the back of my head.

“You alright man?” Grover asked.

I didn’t say anything. There was too much going on right now and this fuzz in my brain was too loud to think. I just nodded and leaned against the bus window, drifting off to sleep against the cold glass. 

Chapter Text

The next few weeks felt like I’d never woken up from that bus ride. I felt tired, unfocused, and out of place. It was like someone had been through my room and rearranged it while I was out, except they were inside my head and I couldn’t remember where anything used to be. I knew we’d gotten a new math teacher but she’d been with us since the semester started. 

Any time I tried to remember something from before the bus I got a serious migraine. Grover wasn’t any help. Half the time he couldn’t look me in the eye, the other half he told me to take my medication. I knew someone had changed my meds because I’d never gotten a prescription for chlorpromazine.Whenever I tried bringing this up with Grover he gave me a worried look. 

The last few weeks of school passed in a daze. I could barely get through the day keeping my head up. I didn’t know what a hangover felt like but this felt pretty damn close. I was barely scraping through my classes, the sound of keys in the library made me want to tear my ears off every time I had to look something up. Not to mention my new habit of tearing my fingernails made typing a sensory nightmare. 

Things didn’t get any better as the school year ended. I’d managed to pass Mr. Brunner’s class but my other grades weren’t “up to the proper academic standards” according to the Yancy staff. All this was delivered in a letter given to me on the last day of school.
I had asked Mr. Brunner to read the bad news, I knew it was coming and I didn’t want to make Grover read the sentence saying I wouldn’t be back with him next year. He handed me back the letter. His eyes were still hard to read but I could tell he was feeling sorry for me.
“I want you to know I’m proud of you Percy,” he said.

“Yeah, well clearly you’re not the common consensus,” I replied, stuffing the letter back in the envelope. 

He sighed looking up at me, “I know that you are capable of great things, this school just wasn’t the place for them.”

I tried to hear what he said, to get what he really meant, but it was no use. I actually thought for a second he could see me doing something good. Apparently not, apparently I was just another kid in the long line of failures for this guy.
“It isn’t like that,” he said.

Had I said all that out loud? It didn’t matter, I didn’t go to this school anymore. 

I met Grover on the bus back into the city.
“So, uh, you got any plans this summer?” he asked, shuffling his crutches around.

“I’m gonna try and find a job, see if there are any old ladies who need someone to watch their pets or something,” I said, looking down at my knees.

I’d really be spending this summer trying to find a place to be that wasn’t home. Mom’s work doubled up in the summer, that meant longer hours and more time with just Gabe at home. Anywhere in Manhattan was better than a stuffy apartment filled with the smell of my stepfather. If I was lucky I’d make it the whole summer only seeing him this afternoon. Gabe slept early and woke up late, at least when he wasn’t tuned in to some sporting event or poker tournament. 

“Oh, uh, well if you have the time you could always come to camp,” he said.

“Camp?” I asked.

“Yeah, I, uh, I work for this summer camp,” he said.

“Great, maybe once I finish working this summer I can afford to go,” I added.
“No no, it’s got this great program. It makes sure disadvantaged kids can still come!” he insisted.

“Well, it’s a shame I’m just poor.” I said, putting the point to rest. 

Grover sighed, I could tell he didn’t want to drop the subject but I made it pretty clear I wasn’t interested. I’d had a whole school year being the hopeless case given a rare opportunity to flourish, I didn’t need to waste my summer stuck at some camp that would give me the same spiel. 

“Well, even if you don’t come, I should be able to visit the city some time!” he said hopefully.

“Grover, I’m not coming back to Yancy,” I said.

He shut up at that. 

“I’m going somewhere else next year, you and I will probably never see each other again,” I added.

“D-don’t say that…” he muttered

“It was nice getting to know you this year, but I’m not going to keep protecting you anymore,” I said, trying to let him down gently. 

“I’ve been the one protecting you!” he snapped.

“Really, you?” I said.

I could tell that got to him. The bus stopped just outside the city and Grover took the opportunity to shuffle off the bus in a huff. I took his seat by the window, breathing hard. I couldn’t believe him, all this year I’d been keeping him safe, out of trouble, making sure he made it through the year alive, he’d be dead if it wasn’t for me! My thoughts were cut off by another sharp headache. I patted around my pocket for my pills, no dice. I reached around for my backpack, still nothing. Great, whatever, what else could happen.
I looked out the window as the bus rolled away. Grover was on the side of the road staring at me. Behind him was a group of sunburnt old grannies, like the California Raisins from my mom’s days. They were huddled around a basket of yarn weaving something massive. It was only a few inches across but it stretched out across all three of their laps. The trio stopped what they were doing to look up at me. The four pairs of eyes aimed right at me only made the migraine worse as my vision blurred. It felt like something inside my head was trying to force its way out. I could see Grover’s expression change as he followed my gaze to the old women. He turned just in time to see one of them pull out a wicked pair of massive shears and snip the end of the thread. Rolling up the giant scarf they hadn’t tried to make.
Grover’s face turned back to me in shock as he started running after the bus. One of his crutches got caught in a hole in the road sending him to the ground as the bus rolled away. I couldn’t see him past the tears filling my eyes by then as I pressed my forehead to the cold glass of the bus. 

I felt sick, nauseous, like at any moment I’d give the seat a brand new stain to go with the rest. No, that was not happening. This day had been one big downhill spiral and I was not going to let it turn into a puke filled swirlie. I leaned back as best as I could in my seat, unzipping my jacket. I cracked my window and leaned against it. The cool air washed over my face as I took deep breaths trying to calm my stomach.
“Hey, kid, you alright?” a voice said across the aisle. 

I turned to see an old man in a faded out tiedyed shirt looking at me from behind a pair of round pink sunglasses. His hair was the color of dust, his shirt collar was peppered with holes revealing a well tanned and hairy chest. I gave him a weak groan and a small head shake, he smelled like old tea and compost.
“Heh, don’t worry, I got just the thing for a roadtrip ache,” he said, pulling out a fossilized can of ginger ale. 

Whatever kind of label it once had probably faded away with flared pants and the Bee Gees. What was left was a dust caked metal can. It was so filthy the entire thing was a dull brown color. At this point it didn’t really matter whether I took it or not, something was bound to come up and it might as well taste like warm ginger ale. 

I reached out and took the can, my fingers were so weak it took two fingers and a whole lot of leverage just to crack the seal. Unbelievably the can was still carbonated, a sharp hiss accompanied the crack of the opening can. I smelled the beverage inside, something vaguely fruit flavored maybe? I looked back at the old guy unsure of his gift but the eagerness of his generosity was too much for me to resist. I gave it a quick sip, ready to spit it out along with the rest of my lunch.
I almost did, nothing could have prepared me for the experience that was this drink. It had a thickness to it yet still fizzed against my tongue. The flavor was indecipherable, fruit punch, mixed tropical berry, passion fruit, something citrus, probably a few herbs and spices too. It stuck to my teeth like it was sugary, a natural kind of sugar though. I coughed, a bit of the beverage coming up before I choked it back down. The old man reached over to pat me on the back. 

“It’s alright man, just gotta appreciate the vintage,” he said. 

“Oh it’s vintage alright…” I muttered. 

Despite the cold war this thing had just put my mouth through. I did feel surprisingly better. I hesitantly took another sip, shuddering as it settled in my stomach. I alternated between sipping the can and trying not to puke. Before I knew it the can was empty and I was feeling almost normal again. I let out a small burp before turning back to the guy next to me.
“Uh, thanks for the… drink,” I said, still unsure of what I’d just introduced to my system. 

“No sweat man, I been on plenty of rough bus rides. Just gotta know how to tune your system,” he said, grabbing his bag as we stopped.
I reached to hand him back his can but he held up his palm. 

“Nuh-uh, it’s a gift, friend. Keep it, sell it, I’d find a nice place to recycle it. I best be going though, don’t want to miss my stop,” he said, leaving me with a can and a whole lot of questions. 

The rest of the ride back into the city was uneventful. I made it back to my apartment building around 5:30PM. The same creaking steps up to my apartment were comforting, as was the hum of noise coming from each closed door and open window. The comforts of home only lasted up to my front door. Once I passed through the door frame it was back into the haze that clung around my stepfather. 

Gabriel Ugliano, not the first, absolutely the worst, and the longest lasting of all my mom’s attempts at finding love after my father. I didn’t get what she saw in him. He had as many redeeming qualities as expired lunch meat and smelled far worse. He lived with me and my mother the same way a tick lives on a dog. He spent more time in our home than me or my mom, the perks of a work from home job as tech support for an electronics store. When he wasn’t letting calls build up on his answering machine he spent his time watching poker, playing poker, falling asleep to poker, or all of the above at the same time. I tried to sneak past his seat in the living room without success. 

“You’re late,” he said, spinning his recliner around to face me. 

“According to who?” I said.

“Don’t sass me boy. You should have been back here fifteen minutes ago,” he said, peering over the rims of his glasses.

“Yeah well, the bus must have been slow today,” I said, trying to inch my way out of the conversation. 

“Uh-uh, I think you took the scenic route back here instead of catching a cab,” he said, standing up from his seat with a puff of exertion. 

“So what if I did?” I said, finding myself cornered against the wall. 

“So you’ve still got cab fare, I want my money,” he said, holding his greasy hand out. 

“It’s not yours,” I muttered.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you right. I pay for the roof over your head, I paid for you to go to that fancy private school for freaks, I know damn well you don’t get to say what isn’t mine. You should pay me back for all the cash you wasted getting kicked out of that reject program,” he said.

“I didn’t get kicked out!” I snapped at him. 

His red nose spread to his entire face as he pinned me by my shoulder.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me you little brat! You don’t get to walk into my house like you aren’t here instead of on the street like all the other headcases thanks to my grace,” he said, his grip tightening as I struggled against him. 

I fumbled around in my pocket before pressing whatever leftover cash I had into his chest. He snatched up the bills pushing me away into the wall as he went back to his chair. I stood there for a moment putting myself back together before going to my room, wincing at my shoulder as I opened the door. I tossed my backpack and suitcase aside and gingerly crashed into my bed. I nursed my shoulder as I kicked off my shoes. I’d had enough of today and I trusted my mom to wake me up when she got home from work. 

“Rise and shine sweetie,” mom said, gently shaking me awake. 

I sat up with a yawn as mom ruffled my hair. 

“What time is it?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“6:00, I just got home,” she said.

I hadn’t been asleep for very long then, I forgot she’d started working the day shift when I went away to Yancy. She was still wearing her work clothes, I hadn’t changed out of my school clothes either so we both looked a little worn in. Despite this one smile from my mom had me feeling better than anything else could.

She had a way of looking at you like she could only ever see the best parts, past all your little hang ups and insecurities, she saw you better than you saw yourself. It was probably what made her so good at working in the service industry, something she’d done since she was sixteen and her parents had died leaving her with just her grand-uncle who needed her care more than she needed his. That look only made it harder for me to tell her about Yancy. Even after I told her how I’d gotten expelled her face didn’t slip an inch. 

“It’s alright sweetie, we’ll find you someplace new, somewhere closer to home. I just hope you had a good time while you were there,” she said, rubbing my shoulder. 

Just like that I was back in the museum, staring at Mrs. Dodds’ split skull as she gurgled her last words. Those old women from the gas station were staring at me, winding up a spool of yarn. I was-

“Percy? Honey, are you alright?” Mom asked, she was on the floor holding my shoulders, her expression marred with concern.

“Huh, y-yeah I’m fine. I’m just… I’m worried about Grover,” I said, blowing off my blackout. 

Mom didn’t seem convinced but my face must have been enough for her to know I didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Okay, if you say so dear,” Mom said, standing up, “Listen, you remember how I mentioned we might take a vacation when you got home?” 

I felt my chest relax as mom put her smile back on. 

“The cabin?” I asked hopefully.

“Same as always, I got cleared to take three days off work,” 

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as I get changed, your suitcase is still packed right?” 

I stood up nodding before I noticed Gabe standing outside the door. 

“You were serious about that?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Mom turned to face him holding up her smile like a shield against Gabe’s funk. 

“I worked longer hours while Percy was away, there’s more than enough saved up,” she said calmly. 

Gabe’s eyes narrowed looking at me. 

“The boy just got kicked out of his third school in a row. Does he really deserve a vacation?” He asked.

I frowned looking at the floor, I hated that I agreed with him. 

“Percy finished this school year and his teacher had great things to say about him in the letter he sent me,” Mom said, I picked up a slight tone of worry in her voice. 

Gabe didn’t seem convinced but Mom pressed on. 

“There should be enough left over for you to invite your friends over for that high stakes game you wanted to plan,” Mom said.

It was the perfect move, the only thing Gabe loved more than taking money was winning it without having to work for it. 

“Fine, but if there’s so much as a scratch on my car when you get back it’s coming out of your budget,” he said, leaving to call up his buddies and order takeout. 

Me and Mom both let out a sigh before she left my room. 

“I’ll meet you out by the car in a few minutes,” she said. 

Pretty soon it was just me and Mom leaving the city behind as she sang along to the radio. It was our first time going to the cabin since Gabe had moved into our lives. It was old, creaky, cobwebbed, the roof leaked and the power went out more often than not but it didn’t matter. It was our own little getaway, just for the two of us. I felt all my worries about school, Grover, and all the weeks of confusion and fog leaving my brain as we drove off. It was the same for mom, she let her hair down and belted out the lyrics to songs older than Mr. Brunner’s assigned reading. 

I watched as the skyscrapers and suburbs faded away and soon enough we were cruising alongside the ocean, far enough away from the city waters that it was actually blue. Mom had gone here with her parents when she was younger, it took a few years and dropping out of college to take care of her uncle but she rediscovered the place after he’d passed and she was on her own again. The way she told the story it was like she’d rediscovered herself there too. It was also where she’d met my dad, so it was technically the most important place in my life. 

When we got to the cabin we went through our old routine of airing the place out from the previous tenants’ stay, usually some group of college kids celebrating. Once we’d gotten rid of all the leftover cans and bottles we hit the beach. We walked through the surf, over sand dunes, over driftwood, just enjoying the moment and each other’s company. 

The nearest spot to the cabin was a seaside restaurant closer to the end of Montauk so we usually walked over there for dinner before heading back. As we were walking along the beach I figured I’d bring up the letter she’d mentioned. 

“Oh, it was wonderful. He talked about how much you participated in class, how hard you worked to understand the material, he was really proud of you. He wishes he could have had more time with you…” she trailed off. 

Despite the secondhand praise I could tell there was something in the letter she wasn’t telling me. I didn’t want to press it, right now it was our time and I didn’t want to have to worry about whatever Mr. Brunner had to say about my academic issues. 

“Did you and dad ever go to this place?” I asked, redirecting the conversation. 

“Hmm? Oh, you meant the restaurant. No, we met on the beach and we stayed there. That little cabin was our home for the weekend,” she said, I could hear how much she missed him in her voice. 

“I wished I could have met him, maybe he could explain what’s wrong with me,” I said.

“Percy, there isn’t anything wrong with you, your father would say the same. He knew you would be different, he was different too… and I know there’s nothing you could do that would change how he felt about you,” she said, grabbing my hand as we stepped over a stream leading inland. 

“Right, well maybe if he hadn’t left he could have told me how to handle being like this,” I said, taking my hand back. 

“Percy, he was in a difficult position. I know he would have stayed if he could have…” she said. 

Even through all my feelings about my dad I could tell he meant a lot to mom. I didn’t push it any further, making Mom cry on this trip would be worse than any report card

Later on me and Mom were huddled up beneath a massive blanket together on the couch in front of the ancient box TV watching movies on VHS. I leaned over to rest against my mom as I let out a yawn. I’d only made it halfway through my takeout order but I was feeling sleep coming on. The sound of rain and storms outside seemed far away next to the cheesy dialogue and warm fireplace behind us. 

“I’m sorry I got kicked out again,” I said softly. 

I’d been holding it in for a while but I felt like getting it off my chest before I went to sleep. I wanted to start tomorrow off without anything weighing on me. 

“Oh Percy, it’s alright sweetheart. I know you tried your best,” Mom said calmly.

I shifted around hugging her as the movie wound down and the sound of rain outside picked up. It almost sounded like hail. 

“Percy, I know neither of us like you being so far away this year but…” I heard the apprehension in Mom’s voice as she spoke, “…Mr. Brunner recommended an alternative learning environment in his letter. It… it might be worth considering.” 

I frowned, hugging her tighter. I didn’t want to think about school, I’d just gotten back and thinking about going even further away was too much. Mom could tell I was wiped out from the day, the year, I’d had so she didn’t press the issue. She just pulled the blankets up over us and wrapped me in her arms.

“We’ll talk later, sweet dreams Percy,” she said, planting a kiss on my forehead as I drifted off. 

My dreams were anything but sweet. I was outside on the beach, the storm raging around me. The whole earth seemed to shake beneath my feet. Lightning cracked the sky as massive waves crashed down across the beach, the moment the flashing bolt faded the beach was almost pitch black, freezing cold. Through it all I was in the eye of the storm looking out across the ocean. I didn’t realize when but I was suddenly clinging on to a horse, no, it was a donkey. The donkey stood firm against the raging squalls and cutting rain as I held on to it against the hurricane. 

All of a sudden the storm seemed to break, along with the entire world. One final bolt of lightning hit the beach, except this one was the shape of an eagle swooping down. At the same time a wave rose up to meet the bird, taking the form of a stallion made of sea foam rearing up to strike the eagle. Before the other two made contact the beach split open and leaping out from the dark cavern was a massive dog made of shadows, its claws out and fangs gleaming as cruel laughter erupted from the ravine in front of me. 

The three beasts collided in the air, the whole world seemed to turn over as I lost my grip on the donkey, its shrill braying piercing my ears as I fell into the ravine and into darkness. 

I landed on my back hard, utterly disorientated. I was back in the cabin but the storm outside was just as harsh as it was in my dream. It took me a moment of flailing in the blanket and gasping for air to realize the loud crashing sounds I heard were coming from the cabin door. Mom was there before I was, stumbling to my feet as the door flew open and a bizarre figure fell into my mom’s arms. 

“Sally, they’re coming!” The figure said, almost collapsing to the floor before my mom caught him. 

It took me a moment to realize it was Grover. Except it couldn’t be Grover. Yet the look of fear in his face as his gaze turned to face me was unmistakable. Mom helped him up to his… hooves. My best friend had hooves with furry legs to match. I was still trying to comprehend the sight in front of me when my mom tossed me a jacket and started putting on her shoes. 

“Percy, we’re leaving!” She shouted, grabbing the keys to Gabe’s car. 

“But, we, I, Grover’s a goat!” I shouted trying to put my brain together enough to say something intelligent. 

“Half goat, and I’m not the only half animal looking for you!” He said, grabbing his head where a small gash was pouring blood across his face. 

I didn’t get what he was saying until I heard a roar so loud it shook the cabin so hard the TV fell off its stand and the windows shattered. 

Chapter Text

I was still coming to terms with my barnyard friend as Mom and him spoke quickly. 

“I thought we still had time!” Mom said, swerving around a car on the road that honked as she passed them. 

“It’s all wrong, Mrs. Dodds did something,” Grover said, holding on to the roof handle for dear life.

I felt a jolt of pain rush through my skull, the image of Mrs. Dodds filling my head once more. Mom grabbed my leg, shaking me back into the moment. 

“What do you mean ‘something’?” She asked.

“It’s like she marked him, we tried changing his medication to counteract it but it was too strong!” Grover said, holding his hand to the cut on his head. 

“Whatever it is, how do I get it out?” I asked, my head swimming and stomach rioting against the motion of the car. 

“I don’t know, whatever she put on you was old magick, older even than Chiron,” he said. 

That same haunting bellow from the beach rang out again. I heard the distant sound of the car we’d passed honking only to be stopped short suddenly. I could barely tell through the pouring rain and roar of the engine but it almost sounded like something was running, galloping, after us. 

“Who’s- look out!” I screamed.

Mom swerved to avoid the tree that sailed over the car blocking the road ahead. She turned the car over onto the beach, a branch taking out my side mirror as the wheels rocked against the sand. 

“How far is it?” Mom asked, the car screeching as she pulled back onto the road tearing up the fender. 

“We’re close! Just a few more miles!” He said, hope creeping into his voice. 

“Where are we even going?” I asked, looking out the window at the trees passing on our right. 

“You remember the camp I told you about?” Grover asked.

“We’re going to a summer camp?” I said incredulously.

“It’s not just a camp…” Mom said, “…it’s where Mr. Brunner wanted you to go. Where your father wanted you to go.”

My mind reeled. My dad? The deadbeat who didn’t show up a day in my life wanted me to go to a summer camp in Long Island? Grover leaned forward to grip my shoulder. 

“It’ll be safe there Percy, you should have come sooner but…” he stopped short, looking at mom.

She kept her eyes on the road but I could tell something was troubling her. 

“Mom, what’s he talking about? Why did dad want me to go here?” I asked.

“Percy… I couldn’t send you away,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes, “I thought if I kept you close, kept you hidden we’d be safe. I’m so sorry.”

I barely had time to register what she was saying when that roar came back, louder than ever. The sea swelled as a massive wave swept over the road in front of us. Mom’s foot slammed on the brakes sending us hydroplaning forward. She tried to keep the car straight when the ground in front of us rose up. I felt myself go weightless as the car sailed through the air. The hairs along my arms stood up on end as the smell of ozone hit me just before the car exploded. 

I came to as Grover was pulling me out of the car. I coughed hard tasting iron in my mouth as Grover collapsed on the road panting. 

“W-what,” I said, sitting up to see the smoking wreck of Gabe’s Camero. 

“Lighting, storm, gotta keep moving,” Grover panted. 

I struggled to my feet as rain lashed my face.

“Where’s my mom?” I asked.

Grover grabbed my arm pulling me across the road towards the woods. 

“There’s no time, he’s coming!” He said. 

I couldn’t focus, my ears were ringing, but I managed to pull us both to the ground right into a mud puddle.

“Percy, we have to keep moving!” Grover said, grabbing me. 

“I’m not leaving her!” I snapped back, pulling myself free. 

I took one step back on the road as a bolt of lightning struck the sea. In the flash I could see a massive figure in the distance. 

He was big, ten feet tall, easy. His head and shoulders were one massive mound of roiling muscle. The points of his horns gleaming in the darkness. I could feel each step he took shake the earth beneath me. I felt my legs freeze up as, for just a moment, those massive round eyes locked with mine. They had the same fury and contempt as Mrs. Dodds, burning through my body to sear my soul. Grover grabbed me again, pulling me back. 

“We have to go, he can’t see very well, the storm will cover us but he can smell you!” Grover warned. 

The monster lumbered closer, his massive snout pointing into the air. He reached the car and began rooting around in it. 

No.

He lifted the wreck over, reaching through the hole blasted into the top. 

No, please no.

He pulled out my mom’s limp body, holding her up to his face as he sniffed her. She stirred and I felt my breath come back. She struggled against the monster’s grip as he let out another roar. He raised her over his head, hand cocked back. Through the storm I caught my mom’s gaze. All I saw in her eyes was fear. 

“Percy!” Her scream cut through the storm as the beast’s arm came down.

“No!” I shouted, breaking Grover’s grip. 

I ran towards her reaching out but I was too far away. Just before she hit the ground the car suddenly erupted in flames. My mother and the monster were swallowed up in the fire as they screamed out in pain. I fell to my knees watching the fireball swell, a cloud of steam filling the air. The hiss sounded like a million laughing voices in the storm. 

I stared at the cloud as it dissipated. My mother was gone, the beast on its hands and knees retching and writhing as rain sizzled against his skin. His fur had been blasted off revealing a mottled skin tone on his face. He screamed out and I met it with my own cry of anguish. He finally seemed to notice me, turning to stare at me from across the road. He groaned as he got to his feet, limping towards me. I couldn’t move, the whole world seemed to fall out from under me. 

“Hey, lean beef!” Grover called out, rushing in front of me waving his jacket over his head. 

The monster paused, staring at the display as Grover let out a battle bleat. 

“Run!” He said, just before he charged the beast.

The monster was just as shocked as I was, his hands far too slow to grab Grover as he slipped under his arm, slapping his burnt pec and bleating. The monster roared in pain, falling over himself to reach out for Grover who was booking it away from him. 

“Come on ground beef!” He shouted, looking back and throwing a gesture at the beast. 

The creature dropped to its knees, I almost thought the fire had caught up to it, when it charged Grover. His hands cracked the pavement as he unleashed a deep moo of fury. He was on Grover in seconds knocking him aside with his horns, nearly missing his skewering attempt. 

I watched Grover sail through the air, landing hard on his ankle and collapsing to the ground. The beast kept going forward, making a wide turn to wheel back around to a stop. Grover struggled back to his feet, swaying heavily on his good hoof. 

“Is that all you’ve got!” He yelled in challenge.

The monster pounded the ground, getting ready for another charge. There was no way Grover could dodge another move from this thing with his leg. 

I scrambled to my feet towards him, “Grover!” 

He turned to look at me, his face falling as he saw me coming towards him. His eyes told me to run but I didn’t stop. I was racing the bull for Grover and I wouldn’t let it win. I barely managed to tackle him out of the way as the beast drove past us crashing into a tree with a thud. 

“Percy, you have to go!” Grover said, pushing me off of him. 

I didn’t say anything. I stared at the monster trying to free himself from the tree, howling in pain as he pushed against the firm trunk. He’d taken my mother, however red his vision might have been mine was worse. 

I ran right at him without a thought in my head beyond hurting this thing. I got right behind the monster, his legs were pulled back as he tried to find purchase to pull himself free. The back of his leg was wide open. With a deep breath I jumped up and brought my feet down on the back of this thing’s leg as hard as I could. 

The sound of his kneecap popping out was music to my ears, as was his roar of pain. I got back to my feet, blood pouring from a cut I got landing on the ground. The bull managed to free himself, flailing out to backhand me. I caught his wrist and clung on for dear life as he swung wide. His hand was massive, his forearm was as big as I was. He was caught in his own momentum, his hand wide open. I wrapped my arm around his middle finger and pulled down as hard as I could. Another pleasantly sickening pop echoed in my ears as I fell to the ground. The bull roared, pulling back his foot to kick me. 

One moment I was on the left side of the road, the next I was on the right. I lost my breath as my back cracked against a tree. I struggled to breath as the bull stared at his finger which was hanging at an abstract angle. He stared at me, roaring in pain. It was getting old by now. I staggered to my feet, I felt amazing. 

“Come at me, you overcooked piece of jerky!” I called out.

He rushed me, practically in slow motion dragging his limp leg behind him. I was more than ready for it. I reached out grabbing a fistful of lichen on the trunk of the tree pulling myself up as the bull missed another gore attempt. I landed on his head as he struggled to pull his horn free. 

“Oh come on, you already fell for this once! You dumb cow!” I shouted, stomping against the base of his horn. 

The keratin crunched under my heel as I met the bone center. The monster tried to grab at me but I kicked his loose finger every time he got close. His attention turned to freeing himself from the tree, his whole body tensing as he pushed against the tree, I just kept stomping until with a wet crunch the monster toppled over. 

Blood sprayed from his broken horn, a dark red splatter covering my face. The bull rolled over, whimpering and bellowing in pain as he held his bleeding stump. I crawled away from him, staring at his groveling figure. I took in his twisted finger and leg, the charred flesh across his body, the blood pouring out of his head. It felt good, looking at this thing writhe in pain and suffer. He deserved every second of it. 

“Percy!” Grover called out, “Stop it!”

I turned to see Grover limping over to me. He paused when I looked into his eyes. He gave me an odd look, the same one he’d given me when I’d been taken away by Dodds. Except this time he was looking at me like I was the monster. 

What was wrong with him, didn’t he get it? This thing took my mother away, he deserved this. 

“Percy please, we need to go!” He said, keeping his distance from me. 

I looked from him back to the monster. Fine, I’d get off the ride. I walked over to the thing, he looked so small now lying on his back crying out. I wrapped my hands around his other horn. He groaned trying to push me away with his good hand but I grabbed the edge of his plate sized fingernail and pulled it back like a pizza box with cheese stick to the top. I went back to his horn, the first one he’d gotten stuck, I could see the cracks around the base from his rough pull. With a few hits to loosen it up I was able to pull the horn off with ease, though the rough bone shape was still poking out of his head. 

The fight seemed to go out of the bull now, his arms falling limp as he shuddered and stared up at me. I brought the horn up over my head and without a second thought plunged it into the monster’s skull. His body went limp. Just like Mrs. Dodds the moment he was dead the pool of blood around his head swallowed up his body. I watched him slip away into the darkness. 

The moment it was gone it was like I’d come back from a blackout. I was staring at the ground trying to remember what I was looking at. I glanced around spotting Grover looking at me in horror. I looked him up and down, my gaze fixating on his leg. His hoof was at an odd angle, it looked out of place. I stepped towards Grover and he froze up. His face was locked on mine utterly covered in horror. The blood drained out of his face, he looked like he was about to pass out. I bent over and grabbed his hoof. With one good tug it was back in place and Grover was passed out in the mud. 

I was still out of it as I pulled Grover up over my shoulders and hooked his wet carpet legs around my waist. It felt like I’d just woken up from a dream and I was still waking up from it. I couldn’t put things together without forgetting the first step I’d taken to get there. 

I had the vague sense of what had just happened, what I’d just done, but none of it felt real. The massive white horn sticking out of a tree still oozing blood didn’t help my disorientation. I didn’t even think about grabbing it, I just yanked it out of the tree and started looking around.

“Camp…” Grover muttered, “Gotta get to camp.” 

Grover’s groans guided me in the right direction, retracing the steps he’d tried to get me to follow. The hill he’d led us to wasn’t too steep but with the ditch slowly forming a river at the base of it the climb wasn’t easy. The whole time Grover was clinging to my neck muttering things into my ear. 

I couldn’t focus on anything he was saying without almost sending us into the mud hole but I caught a few stray ‘sorry’s and ‘run’s. When I finally got to the top of the hill my legs were burning, my lungs were full of needles and every breath I took made me want to scream. Through the stabbing pains I saw a light through the darkness.Grover’s directions didn’t get any more specific so I just kept trudging through the rain towards the lights. 

Whatever kind of camp this was, it had to be pricey. I saw at least a dozen buildings off in the distance grouped together, a massive structure off in the distance, a few odd buildings here and there, the smell of strawberries was heavy in the air, and the source of those lights?

A massive house, three, maybe even four, stories tall. I didn’t bother to take in the architecture but I could tell just from the door it was ornate. I heard shuffling inside, hushed voices arguing about something, it went silent as I knocked on the door with my foot 

“Anybody home?” I asked, peering through the stained glass window of the door. 

 I heard a few whispers before footsteps came up to the door. Whatever I’d been expecting from this place didn’t compare to the guy who opened the door. He was at least seven foot six, and that was the least unusual thing about him. He was completely covered in eyes, every color and then some stared back at me as I locked onto a dozen pairs just taking this guy in. I blinked and this guy did the same, except with his entire body in a waving pattern. 

I said something real smart like, “Oh,” before I felt a head rush and I toppled over sideways. Just before I hit the ground I heard someone call out “Grover!”

Chapter Text

I managed not to pass out as the big guy caught me. More accurately, he grabbed me by the head and held me on my feet. It kept me off the ground but it didn’t help my arms relaxing and my grip on Grover giving out. 

He hit the porch with a thud moaning something, probably “Ow.”

The same voice from earlier called out, louder this time, “Move Argus!”

The big guy, Argus, grabbed my arm in one of his massive hands and picked me up like I weighed nothing. He stepped out of the house onto the porch to make way for a girl. She was young, around my age, and wearing a bright orange hoodie. Her blonde hair was done in dozens of braids that fell over her shoulders as she leaned over Grover. Argus carried me over to a bench, setting me down before crouching down next to the girl. He snapped to get her attention and flashed through a dozen quick hand gestures that ended with him pointing to me and inside the house. 

The girl’s eyes finally turned my way and, woah. I’d seen people with grey eyes before. They always said theirs were blue, like having grey eyes was bad or something. I knew right away this girl wouldn’t get away with something like that. Hey eyes were piercing, analytical, like she was tracing the muscles and veins under my skin rather than my actual face. It felt like I had an oncoming storm bearing down on me for those few seconds she took. 

Her harsh gaze faltered when she got a good look at me, quickly turning and running into the house. Great, glad to see that reaction was universal among normal girls. 

I sat out there for a few minutes looking out at the pouring rain. Argus finished looking over Grover and walked over to me. He sent a few quick gestures at me but he might as well have been throwing baseball signs. 

“Sorry, I don’t know ASL,” I apologized. 

His whole body frowned, a creepy visual, before he sighed and opened his mouth. 

“Helping you, up,” he said, his voice was deep but dry like he hadn’t used it in days. 

I got the message, standing up only to lose my balance and fall forward against the guy. He caught me with one hand but almost dropped me when I grabbed onto his arm and poked him right in the eye. He winced, grabbing my arm and standing me up straight, his arm blinking rapidly and crying softly. 

“Sorry,” I said.

He turned around grabbing Grover under the arms and carrying him into the house like a feisty cat. I followed behind him, wiping my hand on my already filthy jeans. 

We walked through the house, passing by fancy cabinets and paintings on the wall. I caught sight of a stuffed cougar’s head on the wall before we walked into a back room. The place had dozens of white sheets hanging from the ceiling. Each one surrounded a bed. Argus walked over to the nearest one and set Grover down. He moaned as Argus let him down gently and took up a position next to his bed. His dozens of eyes looked all around the room, several across his chest stared right at me. 

Over the sound of the rain I heard a back door open. Another door, this one at the other end of the room, opened up. The girl from earlier was back, her hoodie soaked in fresh rain as she pulled back the hood. Behind her was…

“Mr. Brunner?” I said in disbelief.

His eyes locked on me for a moment before moving to Grover. He wheeled over quickly to Grover’s bedside as the girl pushed past me to stand opposite him. Mr. Brunner examined Grover’s body like a surgeon, poking and prodding him and noting which spots made him wince or yelp in pain. He got down to Grover’s ankle which was turning purple now. 

“Is he alright?” me and the girl asked at the same time. 

We exchanged a look before turning back to Mr. Brunner. He let out a sigh and patted Grover on the chest. 

“Mr. Underwood here will be fine, some bruising on his ribs, a superficial cut on his head, nothing to worry about. Though he will have to step lightly on this hoof for a while,” Mr. Brunner announced, wheeling back.
“You work here?” I asked, it seemed obvious now, knowing he’d recommended the place. 

“Indeed Percy, I am the owner of Camp Half-Blood. Training grounds for history’s greatest heroes,” he said with a practiced authority.
“My mom--” I stopped. 

I felt my throat choking up as the situation hit me. I was alone, my mom was gone, I wouldn’t-

“Hey, calm down,” the girl said, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Annabeth,” Mr. Brunner said warily, “The boy has been through a great deal this night, I’d advise against shaking him.”

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling myself free from Annabeth and stepping back.
“Percy, I know you’re dealing with a lot right now. I would advise you rinse off and find a cot, we’ll worry about your cabin situation in the morning,” Mr. Brunner said.

I was swinging between an immeasurable feeling in my stomach and a numb sensation spreading from my head. I just nodded along as Mr. Brunner sent Annabeth to get me a change of clothes and directed me to the bathroom. 

It was as rustic and homely as the rest of the house, the bathtub was free standing on a pair of mismatched animal legs. I walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet. I took a deep breath and looked myself in the eye. 

I looked horrible. I had a massive red scrape over my forehead, probably from hitting the road, my hair stuck up in every direction and a whole bird's nest of foliage was weaved into my curls. Worst of all was the blood. I couldn’t tell what was mine and what was the bull’s. I was still holding its horn in my hand. I dropped it and started scrubbing the blood off my face. The cuts stung as I scrubbed them, the pain was far away. The white sink was stained red as the blood came off my face. 

I felt a sharp pain run through my chest as I stood up. I touched my chest and winced, feeling a bruise. Peeling my shirt off I found an imprint of the monster’s knuckles against my chest, I didn’t realize he’d actually hit me when I grabbed his arm. I felt similar damage on my back as I got into the shower. The water was freezing but eased the knives in my chest. I heard the door open as I covered myself behind the curtain. 

“There’s a change of clothes on the toilet seat,” Annabeth said. 

I peered out of the curtain after she left. My laundry was gone, so was the bull’s horn. I quickly dried off and gingerly got dressed. The whole get-up was so orange it practically glowed but it was soft and comfortable in spite of my injuries. I hobbled out of the bathroom and crashed on the closest bed I could find. 

I was falling in my dream, falling forever and ever and ever. Or maybe I was flying up into the night’s sky. I couldn’t tell, I might have just been spinning in an empty black void. I saw the shape of my mother in the distance, glowing and wreathed in flames in her final moment reaching out for me. I tried to reach out for her but the distance between us seemed to go on forever. 

“Poor little hero, so powerless in the face of danger. Too slow to save his mother, too weak to get her back, just a flailing child screaming at the world,” a dark voice pierced through the void. 

I watched my mother get further and further away as the voice laughed like a shattering window. I was falling, falling and flying and going nowhere at all. 

I landed in my bed breathing hard. It took me a moment to remember where I was, what had happened. Then it hit me and I almost wished I was falling again. Yet some part of me knew that wasn’t a dangerous road for my thoughts. That part of my brain got to work cordoning off the danger zone. 

The construction of my mental walls was interrupted by a long slurping sound by the door to the room. I sat up to face it. Sitting in a plush purple chain was an older guy with a massive frizzy man bun, a can of Diet Coke, and a magazine. He absentmindedly sipped the coke as he thumbed through the book. 

“Who…” I asked, stopping short as he held up a finger for silence. 

He took a moment to peruse his magazine before rolling it up and sticking it in his cargo pocket. I took another moment to look at the old guy. 

He was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a purple Hawaiian shirt covered in patterns of grapes and vines. His face was covered in an equally wild beard, lacking the hair-tie to keep it in check. He stood up with a soft grunt and approached me. I didn’t know what to say as he walked up to get a better look at me. His gaze was soft, almost unfocused, the whites of his eyes were shot like he’d been awake for far too long. I noticed the split ends in his hairs, the messy trim of his beard, and the subtle stains of his shirt. He would have looked like some hungover guy on a cruise ship if not for his eyes. 

Even veined with red his dark pupils stared into mine with an intensity that made me want to crawl away under my covers. Then, all at once, the intensity was gone and he scoffed. 

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, don’t die before the singalong,” he said, going back to his seat and pulling out his magazine once more. 

I didn’t understand what had just happened but I felt myself getting irritated by how this guy had taken one look at me and completely disregarded me. 

“Who are you?” I asked again.

The guy didn’t even look up from his magazine. 

“Hello?” I said, louder this time.

Still nothing, he took a long drag from his soda and set it into the cup holder built into his seat. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” I said, standing up and almost falling flat on my face. 

I stayed on my feet but I saw a subtle grin in the corner of the guy’s eyes despite his gaze not leaving his magazine. I glared at him for a few moments before scoffing. Fine, silent treatment could go both ways if that’s how he wanted to play it. I headed for the door just in time to take a knob to my gut as someone opened the door right into me. I fell back on my rear, breathing hard as pain boiled in my stomach. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” The girl from the other night, Annabeth, asked.

She was carrying a tray of fruit and a water bottle with something yellow inside of it. 

“I was going to get some air, I think you knocked it out of me,” I wheezed, holding my stomach. 

The girl sighed and set the tray on a side table to help me to my feet. 

“Well I guess we can’t expect you to be in peak condition, not after slaying the Minotaur,” she said, guiding me over to a bed to sit down. 

“The what?” I asked. 

She paused about to pour me a glass of whatever was in the bottle. 

“The Minotaur, you killed it last night before you got to camp,” she said matter of factly. 

“Oh, yeah,” I said, “I did do that.”

She gave me a weird look before handing me the glass. I took a look at the drink. It was like thick apple juice, almost like jelly but perfectly clear and golden. 

“What is this?” I asked, sniffing the glass. 

“It’s nectar, it’ll make you feel better,” she said, nodding for me to drink it. 

I frowned at her, it didn’t smell laced so I took a small sip and gagged. The look of the drink should have tipped me off, this stuff tasted like hard wine. I’d had the odd sip of alcohol here and there, mom let me try champagne at a New Year’s Party once before… 

I took another sip of the stuff, it went down a lot smoother the second time. I felt my body getting lighter, warmer, and my head started itching. I almost downed the whole glass before Annabeth stopped me. 

“Slow down before you explode,” she said.

I paused expecting to do just that but instead only coughed. I breathed a sigh of relief as another long slurp cut through the silence. 

“Well, it’s not even breakfast and you’ve already slayed a monster and pounded a glass of nectar. Maybe you’ll last the day,” he said, still not looking at me. 

“Can I help you man?” I asked, standing up.

That finally got his attention, those lazy eyes peering up at me over the cover of his magazine. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re an angry drunk at age eleven,” he said. 

“Probably later than when you started,” I snapped back. 

That one almost seemed to stun him for a moment before he let out a laugh. “Oh child, you haven’t the slightest.”

Annabeth grabbed an apple and stuffed it in my mouth before I could say anything more. 

“I see you’ve already met Mr. D, he’s the activities director for the camp,” she said.

“Thirty-three more years and counting Betty,” he said, raising his hand to the sky. 

I caught a glimpse of a watch on his wrist with eight hands on it before a boom of thunder shook the building. Mr. D groaned and dramatically twisted the hands of his watch.

“Thirty-four, and counting…” he said, gritting his teeth, taking another swig from his can. 

I swallowed the bite of apple Annabeth had forced on me. 

“This guy is in charge of taking care of children?” I was genuinely surprised and a bit concerned. 

“Oh I don’t like it anymore than the rest of you, but you have to stay productive under house arrest,” he said. 

I looked at his leg and spotted a gleaming bronze ankle monitor around his shin. It hummed with energy as Mr. D scratched his calf with the tip of his sandal.

“What did you do?” I asked without thinking. 

Immediately his whole demeanor seemed to shift. I felt my body freeze up as he glared at me. My legs were tense but my feet felt stuck to the floor as the guy approached me. 

“That’s none of your business,” he said, taking the bottle of nectar Annabeth had brought and heading for the back door, “Anniebell, make sure the satyr knows he’s due for a review once he stops feeling sorry for himself.” 

I felt my muscles relax as soon as he was gone, aside from my heart which was racing. Annabeth tapped my shoulder but it took me a moment to focus back on her face. She said something but the blood in my ears was still too loud. 

“Huh, can you repeat that?” I said.

“I said, don’t worry about Mr. D. He’s just a bit stir crazy, he been stuck at camp since the 1980s and he’s starting to go a little stir crazy,” she said.

“Well, he’s looking good for someone in his 50s,” I said, feeling my fingers and toes again.

Annabeth frowned at me, a look of concern passing over her face. Paired with her gray eyes she looked like a doctor trying to identify an infectious disease.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Huh?” She asked.

“Don’t stare at me like that,” I said glaring at her. 

Her expression didn’t change but her gaze was less pronounced. 

“Sorry, it’s just you seem so… clueless,” she said matter of factly.

“Well excuse me for not keeping up with everyone else who apparently already knew that skin eating monsters were just a thing that existed,” I said sarcastically. 

Annabeth sighed like she could tell I was going to be a problem, real endearing.

“You’re not going to find someone who hasn’t gone through that. The fact you managed to survive and save Grover is impressive. Thank you for that by the way,” she said offhandedly. 

“Where is he anyway, Mr. D said something about him feeling sorry for himself?” I asked.

Annabeth frowned looking at the floor for a moment, “He’ll be alright. Things aren’t going the way he wants and he doesn’t cope well with stress.” 

“You can say that again,” I said, recalling half a dozen meltdowns Grover had in the time I’d known him. 

A beat of silence passed between us before Annabeth turned for the door. 

“Well since Grover isn’t here that means it’s time for your tour, come on,” she said.

“Hey hold up, I don’t even know if I’m going to stay here,” I said following behind her.

“Well unless you want another brush with the Minotaur I’d suggest you settle in. Most new campers adjust quickly, you’ll find your place soon enough,” she said, pausing to throw a snausage at the cougar head I’d seen last night. 

The roar that came from the head as it caught the treat caught me off guard. A closer inspection with less head trauma revealed it was a much bigger cat and that it was very much alive. 

“Morning Seymour,” Annabeth said. 

The severed head Seymour licked his chops and looked at me eagerly like I’d make a better treat than beef and cheese in a blanket. 

“Don’t feed him by hand, stuffed heads don’t feel pain and they get serious lockjaw,” Annabeth said, continuing out the door. 

I looked at Seymour before tossing him another treat. Better to endear myself to him than wind up down a hand. 

The camp was just waking up as Annabeth led me through the place. We stopped at the camp store first since I couldn’t get more than a few steps without stepping on a sharp rock or pine cone. 

She rang the service bell and a guy behind the counter rose up in a sleeping bag. 

“Mnh, cash or drachma?” he asked, not opening his eyes. 

“We need a pair of shoes, Terry,” Annabeth said.

Terry mumbled something and opened one of his eyes to look at us. 

“You’re gonna share a pair of shoes?” he asked.

“Terry…” Annabeth said wearily.

“Ugh, yeah alright. Size and style please,” he said.

Annabeth looked over to me expectantly. 

“Uh, eight-and-a-half,” I said.

They both kept staring at me.
“Just some sneakers…” I said prickling under their gaze. 

Terry mumbled pulling a straw up from his sleeping bag and drinking from it as he waddled off into the back. 

I must have had a confused look on my face because Annabeth started explaining.

“Terry’s a son of Hypnos, from what we can assume at least. Normally a child of Hermes would manage the store but… Terry isn’t exactly good for much else,” she said, whispering the last part as Terry came back in balancing a shoe box on a pair of little hand nubs in the front of his sleeping bag. He set the box down on the counter and slapped the register with his mitten. 

“That’ll be nine drachma,” Terry said. 

“Terry…” Annabeth said, gritting her teeth. 

“Gosh, maybe it was ten. I’m just soooo tired,” he said, opening both his eyes to stare down Annabeth.
I couldn’t help but yawn, my jaw opening wide and suddenly freezing just as I was about to let it out. It felt like I had a sneeze stuck in my head that I couldn’t let out. I looked at Annabeth who had the same stretched expression on her face. She still managed to glare at Terry as she pulled out a string of gold coins and broke nine of them off. She handed Terry the coins, now looking like bitten cookies, who deposited them in the register. 

“Have a nice day,” Terry said, slipping behind the register once more.

Me and Annabeth each let out a huge yawn as I took the shoe box. I opened it up to find a pair of the most knock-off shoes I’d ever seen. They were gray like stained concrete on one side, the other side was the visual equivalent of colorful tv static. 

“Oh my god,” I said.

“Gods,” Annabeth corrected, grabbing a pair of orange socks off a display rack and handing them to me. 

“Is everything in this camp atomic orange or 80s vomit?” I asked, donning the pairs. 

“Not usually, ever since Hermes started outsourcing his labor the materials have gotten cheaper, he’s been cutting costs on his merchandise for a while now,” she said. 

“Great, now I couldn’t get hit by a car if I wanted to,” I said, really wanting to get hit by a car. 

“Most kids usually work out their own wardrobe. Seeing as your old clothes were… unsalvageable, they were disposed of,” she said. 

“What about the horn?” I asked.

“Oh, personal effects are meant to be kept in your cabin. We’ll head there now,” she said. 

When Annabeth said cabin I was picturing something like the big house. Rustic, wooden, half falling over, something you could imagine Lincoln was born in. What I was not expecting was the most eclectic group of twelve ‘cabins’ I’d ever seen in my life. They were arranged in a semicircle around a massive field. Each one seemed to be trying to grab you by the eyes and force you to look at it. 

Massive white marble pillars, golden trimming, hot pink stucco, abalone, one had an entire fruit tree growing out of the back of it. They looked like a bunch of kids had been put in an art contest for who could make the most distracting dream house.. 

There were a few modest ones but even they had their own eye-catching details. One on the end had a lattice all the way around the top that was thick with ivy and grapevines. Another looked normal at first but a closer look revealed the wood paneling was actually metal. Annabeth led me through the central field along a stone pathway. 

“Why are they all so…” I said, lacking the words to describe them. 

“Vibrant?” Annabeth offered.

“I was gonna say flashy but that works,”

“Each cabin is dedicated to the resident’s godly parents. They’re meant to embody each of the gods in some way,” she said. 

I was blinded by a stray ray of sunlight bouncing off of the golden cabin which almost looked like it was made of fire. 

“And who decorates these cabins?” I asked, rubbing the suns out of my eyes. 

“Usually the campers themselves, though some do take… inspiration, from their parents at times,” she said. 

I just about regained my vision when we arrived at the center of the circle. Annabeth led me over to the first cabin on the right half. It was made of the same ornate marble as the one next door except it was decorated with peacock patterns along the walls. A bronze 2 hung over the door. 

“Welcome to the Hera cabin,” Annabeth said, gesturing to the door. 

“As in, Zeus’s wife?” I asked. 

“Yes, since Hera doesn’t have any demigod children she serves as the foster cabin for unclaimed campers,” she explained. 

“So do I just… walk in and pick a bunk?” I asked.

“You’ll have to sort that out with the head counselor,” she said, walking off and leaving me alone with the rising sun. 

I stared at the cabin door, took a deep breath and stepped in. 

Chapter Text

On the long list of things I wasn’t prepared for this morning the Hera cabin was one of them. The place had to have been soundproofed because the noise inside was enough to deafen me. I saw at least a half-dozen kids, maybe eight or nine, all caught up in a wrestling match in the middle of the cabin. Up on the top bunks some older kids were cheering the carnage. Someone threw a throw pillow into the mix. 

I started to wonder if these kids slept on bricks after one of them got his hands on the pillow and sent another one across the room with one swing of stuffing. The little guy was the clear champion. He was easily the biggest, his head was shaved nearly bald and he had a pair of bald spots the size of quarters on the back of his head. 

The older kids started chanting loudly, knocking against their bedposts, “Reggie, Reggie, Reggie, Reggie!” 

The boy lapped up the attention, taking a moment to bask in their cheers. That moment would be his downfall as another kid stood up spitting out a feather and leaping on Reggie. The little girl was viscous, she slap boxed Reggie until his grip went limp on the pillow. She didn’t miss a beat and neither did the other kids. Reggie’s name was drowned out by the girl’s own, “Lisa, Lisa, Lisa, Lisa!”

“LISA!” A booming voice shouted from behind me.

I stumbled out of the way over to a bunk as the speaker entered the cabin. The massive voice came from an equally massive guy. He was easily six foot, and that was in almost every direction. His shoulders almost clipped the doorframe as he stepped in, chest puffed out looking at the packed cabin. 

The other kids could tell he meant business, Lisa pulled Reggie to his feet and held him there as the other tykes scrambled into a line. The other kids pretended not to be involved, taking a moment to admire the grain of their bed frame. The big guy walked right up to Lisa, looming over her as she held her head up despite the obvious fear in her eyes. 

“What did I say about playing rough?” The guy asked.

“To not break anything,” one kid answered. 

“Oh you kids broke something alright, the rules. Which rule did Lisa just break?” The guy asked, crossing his arms. 

The kids admired the soft carpeting, another peacock pattern. 

“Nobody? Guess I’ll have to educate you brats,” he said taking up a wide stance, “the first rule of armed combat is, press the advantage!”

The guy did just that, sweeping Lisa up and pressing his face to her stomach. The resulting raspberry was only slightly less eardrum rupturing than Lisa’s shrieking giggles. The other kids joined the laughter as Lisa wriggled against the massive hands of her assailant. She was tossed aside into the waiting arms of an older kid panting and giggling as the big guy turned to face the other kids. 

They had no chance of escaping his wrath. The room was once again a cacophony of screaming children, this time mixed in with laughter. The only thing that stopped the slaughter was when the big guy grabbed me. 

I was still standing next to a bunk. One of the kids leapt to hide behind me just as captain raspberry turned just in time to wrap his massive puffy hands around my wrists. I watched him deflate like a balloon the moment he got a decent look at me. I meant that literally. The guy seemed to shed at least twenty pounds as his built up air blast sputtered out. 

He was still a total giant, only now he wasn’t built like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. 

“Uh, you’re the new guy right?” He said, still holding on to me. 

“Would it be less awkward if I said no?” I asked. 

The whole cabin had a good laugh as my arms were returned to me and the big guy took a step back to clear his throat. 

“Welcome to cabin two, we’re looking forward to your stay no matter how brief or long. Isn’t that right campers?” He asked, turning to face the rest of the cabin. 

He got a mix of enthusiasm and apathy in the response. He didn’t let it slow him down as he stuck his massive mitt out for me to shake. 

“I’m Norman, Norman Cooper, son of Aeolus. And you are…?” He asked. 

“Uh, Percy. Percy Jackson, son of Sally Jackson” I replied, shaking his hand. It was still sweaty from his recent exertion. 

“Glad to have you aboard Percy. Hera heralds all heroes at some point, she’ll be your patron until you get claimed by your godly parent,” he said. 

“Um…” I was really on my A-game today, “that was a lot all at once. Can we dial it back to the godly parent part?” 

“Right, okay. This camp is a place for the children of the gods to train and grow up before they enter the world. Most of the kids here are children of the Olympian gods, they each have their own cabins. Once your godly parent sees fit to claim you you’ll move in to one of them, unless you’re the child of a minor god. If that’s the case you and me will be cabin mates for a while longer!” He finished with a grin. 

“Eternity with a talking windbag, what could be better than that…” a voice said from atop a bunk in the corner. 

It took me a moment to actually see who said it, the entire corner was so dark it seemed to put a hole in my eye. 

“Lewis, what did we say about that attitude of yours?” Norman said, putting his hands on his hips. 

A mop of dark hair with a head attached fell over the side of the bed to stare at me. The camp had a universal staring problem but this guy was easily the most unnerving. 

His eyes were pure black and white, like a pair of twin black holes sucking the color from the rest of his face. 

“Sorry Norm, I’m just not feeling the vibe right now,” Lew said, climbing down from the top bunk and landing with a thud and a rattle. 

Not even the two dozen metal clasps on his platform boots seemed to shine as he looked at me. 

“What’s your deal new guy, you a silver lining type like Norm?” He asked. 

I blinked a few times before looking at him closer. His whole outfit was monochrome, including the rainbow on his shirt. He looked like a teenage Marilyn Manson. 

“I’m just confused, I didn’t realize that there was a Greek god of goths,” I said without thinking. 

The whole cabin let out a collective “Ooh,” at my remark, though it was mostly just the bruised kids. 

Lew examined me for a few seconds more before a grin revealed his paper white teeth. 

“You’re not a very clever guy, but I think I can make this work,” he said. 

He spun around looking at the kid underneath his bunk. 

“Up and at’em Tico,” he said. 

Tico was with the program taking the entire bedspread with him and crossing the other corner of the room. 

“Lew, we’re supposed to have an order to all this,” Norman said, having grabbed a box from off the top of his bunk. 

“What, it’s not like Percey minds, does he?” Lew said, leaning on my shoulder. 

I looked at the guy. In spite of everything about him his ‘vibe’ seemed surprisingly mellow. 

“Sure, we’re cool Norm,” I said. 

Lew clapped his hands, rings clicking loudly, as he took the box from Norm who handed it off like Lew was some kind of carrier for the plague. 

“Well, I suppose it’s nice to see you making friends for once,” he said, turning back to look at me, “So Percy, what do you say we get out of this old cabin and I show you around the place?” 

“Uh, I kinda already got a tour,” I said. 

“Nonsense, I know this place like the back of my hand. We’ll get a real good look!” He said, grabbing my shoulder and leading me to the door. 

“Hey, Percey!” Lew said, drawing my attention. 

I turned just in time to catch the horn Lew had thrown from the box. 

“See you at dinner!” He called out as we stepped out. 

Norman was rubbing his hands together so fast I was worried he’d catch fire as we walked away from the cabin. 

“Um, you good man?” I asked, tapping his shoulder. 

He jumped, both feet off the ground, but quickly put on a big smile. 

“Oh I’m fine. Lew just… well you shouldn’t fault people for things they can’t change,” he said quickly. 

“And that would be?” I asked, not liking his tone.

“Well, you see… Look, Hera accepts all wayward kids. The idea is that once you find your way you’ll move on and she’ll be there to wave you off with a smile and a pat on the back,” he said. 

“You’re dodging the question, what is Lew?” I asked. 

“A part of Hera’s deal is that she doesn’t leave family behind, that includes family that’s… less than up to the usual standard,” he said. 

“What’s Lew got going on?” I asked, not liking the way this conversation was heading. I’d been down this kind of road before and it had led me all the way to Mrs. Dodds. 

“Okay, listen. Just because we’re all the children of the gods doesn’t mean we’re perfect. That’s not a bad thing, the gods aren’t perfect themselves! Some kids though… it depends on your parent but depending on how you were born you might wind up, a little off the mark,” he finished. 

I didn’t press him any further. Whatever else he had cooking up wasn’t anything my mom hadn’t been told about me at some point. 

“Yeah, alright, sure. So you were going to lead me into the lake?” I said, stopping just as Norman walked off the dock. 

He floated like an inflatable raft, a real fun sight especially once he managed to rotate around to pull himself back onto the dock. He pulled off his orange camp shirt, showing off a rather bulky physique, shaking it a few times till it was perfectly dry and putting it back on. 

“Listen, cases like Lew are pretty rare. After what you pulled off last night…” he eyed the horn in my hand, “… I think you’ve got something special to you.” 

I held in an eye roll. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’ve got something in my bag,” I said, sticking the horn in my pocket. 

“That’s the spirit, let’s see what you’ve got cooking man!” He said with newfound enthusiasm leading me into the camp for real this time. 

Whatever Norman was hoping I was cooking was probably more than the boiled water I managed to cook up that afternoon. 

At the very least I got a refresher on the Greek pantheon with every activity I bombed. I ruined a perfectly good sword a Hephaestus camper was working on. He was chill about it but I could see his missing eyebrows furrow and forehead pulse every time I swung a hammer. Managing to break a hot block of metal in half convinced Norman to kick me out but not before the activities director, Charles, pulled me aside. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it man. Most heroes get their gear from other sources. You kept a trophy from the Minotaur right?” He asked. 

I fished the horn out of my pocket and handed it over to him. He ran his hands over it, examining the rough break at the base and the sharp point on the end. 

“Okay, I can work with this,” he returned the horn, “You come back around with an idea for what to make this thing and I’ll see what I can whip up. I think you’d better go, Norman finally extinguished his arm hair.” 

I met Annabeth again with the Athena cabin. She ran circles around me in a dozen board games I’d never even played before. Even getting beaten at mancala wasn’t as embarrassing as getting out friendship bracelet-ed. The only thing that made it worse was the way Annabeth’s gaze kept turning me over, trying to figure me out with every pawn she took and every jenga block I pulled. At the very least I managed to tie together a leather cord, not that I had anything to put on it. 

“You’ll get a bead for your godly parent and one at the end of every summer, if you last that long,” Annabeth said. 

I looked at her neck and noticed seven beads on her neck. 

“You’ve been here for six years?” I asked, placing a block on the tower. 

“About that long,” she said, taking a piece from the middle. 

“That means you’ve been here since you were seven…” I said, pulling a block from the bottom. 

“You’re in the Hera cabin, kids show up at all kinds of ages,” she said.

I hadn’t really thought about it. I remembered the scars on Reggie’s head, the way Lisa had given him a black eye with a pillow. 

“You’re an odd case,” she said, taking another block and leaving the tower teetering, “you’re around the age a lot of less powerful kids show up but you were hunted down by the Minotaur and a fury.” 

“What are you trying to say?” I asked, tugging the wrong piece and sending the tower down across the table.

“I don’t know yet. It’s your first day, you’re unclaimed, you showed up in the middle of the night, Chiron went out of his way to teach you…” she said, I thought I heard a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

“So I don’t fit in, even here,” I said.

“That’s what makes you fit in. You’ll show your true colors soon enough,” she said, leaving the table and the mess. 

Norman came over from his own table to take me to the next activity. I was still looking at Annabeth walking off when he tapped my shoulder. 

“If you’re worried about fitting in you might want to worry about your staring problem,” he said.

“I don’t-“ he stopped me.

“It’s okay, I’ve just never seen someone who can handle so much eye contact with Annabeth. I think you might have unnerved her,” he said.

“Right, because I was the weird one in that conversation,” I said. 

“Athena’s children can be a little… intense. A lot of them go on to become generals, CEOs, city planners, that sort of thing,” 

“I can see her ordering people around,”

“Yeah well, Annabeth is kind of the epitome of her cabin. She’s been through a lot,” 

I thought about her beads again, I couldn’t imagine leaving my mother so young. 

“Come on, you’re still an enigma to her so there’s gotta be something you can show me,” he said, pulling me up from the mess. 

I showed Norman exactly what most people would have expected from me. 

The only nice thing about the archery range was meeting Mr. Brunner again, and that was marred when I whipped him with my bowstring before I shot a single arrow. 

I didn’t do much better with the artistic side of Apollo either, though the head councilor did approve of my projection skills at least. 

I was halfway through failing to sow a field of wheat when a thought crossed my mind. 

“Why am I doing all these goddess activities, I know who my mom is,” I said, leaning on my rake.

“Well, aside from the fact that the gods aren’t exactly restricted to a single sex, or species for that matter, the 12 Olympian’s don’t have a monopoly on every domain. Zeus might rule the skies but my mom controls the winds,” he said, pride obvious in his voice. 

“Well I think I’ve disappointed every green god in the world then,” I said, tossing my tool aside and walking off. 

“Hey, we’ve still got a few stops left,” Norman said.

“What’s the rush, I’m going to spend my whole life here right? I might as well kick up my feet next to Lew and wait to see who comes to collect,” I said stomping through the field. 

Norman stumbled after me, tripping on vines until we finally reached the edge of the field. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to look at him.

“Listen, I know this isn’t ideal but you have to understand. You’re family Percy, even if you don’t feel like it. That means you’re welcome here, it might be the only safe place on earth for you. This isn’t just a summer camp, it’s training you to survive out there in the real world,” he said.

“Oh wow, that’s great. A whole world of monsters, gardening will really come in handy out there,” I said. 

“Look, you’re clearly full of energy. We normally save combat training for later but after what you went through getting here I think you can handle yourself,” he said.

That part did get my attention, hitting something felt like a good idea right now.

“Alright, where’s the ring?” I asked.

“You didn’t think the Colosseum was just for kids to hold plays did you?” He said with a grin. 

Lo and behold, the coliseum looked straight out of Gladiator. It was a massive circular ring surrounded by stone seating on all sides. There were kids in the ring already. Some were sparring with swords, some were practicing stabbing dummies, there was one kid in a smaller ring fighting a whole boar with nothing but a knife. I couldn’t help but stare in awe. 

“Alright, pick your jaw up. You’re liable to get your head cut off if you stop to gawk. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Luke,” he said heading down the stairs. 

Luke was the guy in the middle of the ring, surrounded by half a dozen other campers with swords. Despite the position the guys surrounding him seemed more nervous. One of them inched forward with his spear but one look from Luke had him backing off. 

I could see why, the guy looked like an actual Greek swordsman. He was tall, toned, his skin was tanned and his hair was cropped close. The real eye catching feature were the scars across his face. He had one massive pale line dug from his temple to his jaw and another scar on his milky white eye. 

Another kid tried approaching his blind spot. Norman waited for the kid to get just within striking distance before calling out Luke’s name. They both turned to face us before the guy swung on Luke. Luke easily sidestepped him and knocked the pommel of his sword against the back of his helmet. The guy barely had time to hit the ground before Luke was helping him to his feet.

“Alright, good work today. I want to see you guys practicing single combat forms when I get back okay?” Luke said. 

Luke’s students quickly agreed and paired off leaving just me, him and Norman. 

“What’s up Norman, got someone new for me?” Luke asked, looking me up and down as he sheathed his sword. 

“Yeah, this is Percy. Landed last night and we’ve been going through the tour since this morning. We’re still figuring out where his talents lie, I figured I’d let you show him the ropes, see if we’ve got a fighter on our hands,” Norman said. 

I felt uneasy having Luke’s gaze on me but his expression softened as he listened to Norman. 

“Well a belated welcome to camp Percy. I’m Luke, head councilor for the Hermes cabin. I’m also the main sword instructor here at camp,” he said. 

He led me over to a rack of wooden swords and pulled off a pair. 

“You ever use something like this before?” He asked, tossing me one. 

“Not that I can recall…” I said, awkwardly gripping the blade. 

“Well as fun as this would be to watch, I should make sure the kids aren’t trying to kill each other. I’ll see you later Percy!” Norman called out, flying up the stairs two at a time. 

I watched him go before turning back to Luke.

“So how exactly does this-“

“Draw!”

I barely had time to blink before Luke had stepped in, smacked my hand with the side of his sword and pointed the tip at my throat. He stared me down for a moment before pulling his blade back and returning mine. 

“Okay, I see there’s a lot to work on. Now, let’s try that again except this time I want you to not drop your weapon,” 

What followed was one of the most embarrassing, exhausting, and fun moments of my life. Luke trounced me with ease. Every move seemed to fly right past my guard. By the time Luke called break I could feel bruises lining my chest, arms, legs, everywhere that probably would have ended up with me dead if we’d been using real swords. 

Despite losing without competition I felt good. My blood was pumping, my senses were alight, and every time our swords met I felt a little more ready for the impact. When I finally managed to parry one of Luke’s strikes and swipe his leg I got a few cheers from the kids Luke had been sparring with earlier. 

“Alright, you did great for your first time with a sword. Still clumsy but it’s a good start,” Luke said, handing me a bottle of Gatorade. 

“I don’t know, it feels weird holding a sword in two hands,” I said, swinging my practice sword a few times. 

“Never played much baseball huh? It’s alright, the Greeks used a lot of weapons. We can get you started on spears next week, maybe try a shield for the next match, though they can be pretty cumbersome,” he added. 

I remembered the bracelet Grover had given me just before Mrs. Dodds attacked me. How I’d swung the axe without thinking.

“What about an axe, or a hammer or something?” I asked.

Luke gave me an odd look.

“I mean, we do have those. Usually those were the weapons of farmer conscripts and bandits, Greek Heroes used swords more often than not,” Luke said. 

I listened to what he was saying but the sword just didn’t feel right. The blade felt off balance in my hand, the grip felt short, I felt like I was fighting the blade itself just as much as I was fighting Luke. He could tell I was getting frustrated. 

“How about this? Wrestling was pretty big in Greece too, how’s some hand to hand training sound?” He asked. 

I thought back to the fights I’d gotten into in school, the shoving grabbing matches, they were stupid but it felt good to throw my weight around. 

“I think I can work with that,” I said, chugging my Gatorade. 

Luke led me over to the large mats I’d seen coming in. A pair of campers in headgear were in the middle of a match when we came over. I could hear the guy on top gurgling out an “Uncle!” as he tapped his opponent’s shoulder. 

The pair came undone as the choked out guy was tossed off his opponent. She rose up breathing hard as she stood over her competition. The assembled audience cheered and clapped for her as she undid her headgear. 

“Hey, Clarisse! I got a live one for ya!” Luke called out.

Her head turned like a pit bull to face me. 

“He’s new so don’t hurt him too bad,” he said. 

Clarisse gave me a once over before grinning revealing a wicked set of mismatched teeth. 

“Oh, I’ll be real gentle,” she said in a tone that did little to ease my nerves. 

Luke got me a set of headgear and showed me how to put it on. He ran me through a few basics before sending me into the ring. 

“You sure you’re even in my weight class half-pint?” Clarisse said as she circled me.

I was uneasy on my feet on the mat, hunched over with my arms out. 

“I don’t know, you hiding some bacon under all that grease?” I shot back. 

Clarisse growled as she lunged forward, her grip slipped under mine and I felt my feet rising off the mat. I flailed, grabbing her head and pushing our combined weight over as we both hit the mat. I was still reeling from the impact when Clarisse slipped out from under me. She managed to hook her arms around my neck as she began pressing me to the mat. I struggled underneath her, trying to slip out of her grasp. My legs kicked out uselessly underneath me as I tried to get a grip. 

“Come on, that all you got, cow-boy?” Clarisse whispered in my ear as she pressed my forehead to the mat. 

My hand latched onto her clasped fingers. I felt around for her thumbs. Digging in with my nails I managed to slip underneath one of her digits and pull it back as hard as I could. I felt her thumb stretch to its limit then pop free of that limit as Clarisse let out a scream. Her grip relaxed as she brought her fist down on the back of my head. Her swing pushed her weight around enough for me to roll over and face her.

Her good hand was pulled back for another swing as I reached up and grabbed her throat with both hands. I felt her neck muscles tensing as she punched me right in the nose. I could feel her heart racing beneath my fingers. I tightened my grip around her veins, the flow of blood stopping at my fingers. Clarisse was just about to drive her thumb into my eye before another camper pulled her off of me. Luke was with him, grabbing my hands and holding me down to the mat. 

Neither of us had heard the timeout after I dislocated her thumb. My chest was heaving and my lungs felt sore from the earlier slam as me and Clarisse stared each other down. The Apollo camper on standby had to pull her fingers out of a fist just so he could properly relocate her thumb. She barely winced as he pulled it back into place and wrapped it in a splint. 

The match was called a draw but I’m pretty sure Luke was trying to get me out of there before any of the Ares kids could get onto the mat with me. The guy who’d been wrestling with a boar earlier was still covered in blood as his cabin mates held him back. 

Luke led me out, unsure of what to say. Whatever he’d been expecting to see in that match I hadn’t given it to him. 

“I’d give Clarisse room to cool off. Ares kids are good at riling each other up so it might take a while,” he said. 

I nodded along before heading off towards the lake. I wasn’t sure how to feel. I felt like I’d won, even if the rules didn’t agree. The move I’d pulled in there felt good, something about dragging the match into a brawl was oddly satisfying. I found myself sitting on the edge of the lake staring out at the campers canoeing. 

So far this camp was a mixed bag. I’d sucked at just about everything I’d tried except hurting someone, but it didn’t feel as discouraging as usual. Norman was a bit full of hot air, I had no idea what I was getting into with Lewis, Annabeth seemed as confused about me as I was about her, Luke seemed cool if impossible to read, Clarisse was probably adding me to her hit list, and Grover was hugging a tree. 

I did a double take but sure enough Grover had his arms wrapped around a tree. He turned around, catching sight of me and freezing. We both stared at each other for a moment. His pants were completely absent but his legs were covered in a shag carpet of fur. The moment passed and I just sighed, patting the spot next to me on the grass. Grover approached cautiously but eventually sat down next to me. A beat passed between us in silence before I got the nerve to speak. 

“How’s your leg doing?” I asked. 

“Better, but that’s the least of my worries…”

“So, this is your day job?” I asked casually. 

“Technically, you were my day job,” he replied. 

I waited for him to continue. He took a moment to sigh before doing so. 

“I’m a protector. Satyrs go out into the world and track down demigods. I got sent to Yancy and I could smell it coming off of you,” he said. 

“They didn’t exactly splurge on soap,” I added. 

“There’s nothing you can do about that, it’s in your blood. Me, Mrs. Dodds, the Minotaur, mythic creatures can smell the godly blood in your veins. Anyway, I noticed you were one of them and I called back to camp to let them know I’d found you. I figured you’d finish out the year and I’d invite you to camp for the summer and we’d inform you of things. Except, then Chiron came to the school. He wouldn’t tell me why, he just said you were special and that I needed to be careful,” he said. 

“What, am I the son of the god of explosions or something?” I joked, testing the waters for Grover’s humor. 

He stonewalled me, pulling his knees to his chest. 

“We don’t know who your father is, Percy. I thought for a minute you might be the son of one of the older olympians but you don’t smell like a child of Demeter,” he said.

“What about Zeus or Poseidon, they had a bazillion kids in the myths,” I asked. 

“It’s complicated. A few centuries ago the gods learned of a prophecy, supposedly a descendant of the gods will be born who could change Olympus forever, maybe even destroy it. After that they held back on having kids,” he said. 

“But there’s like, a hundred kids at this camp at least,” 

“Well, the gods aren’t exactly known for their celibacy. Well, some are but that's not the problem. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades entered an agreement after WWII. They’re the most powerful gods so they figured it was most likely one of their kids who would bring about the prophecy.”

“What’s all this got to do with me?” I asked. 

“Something big happened Percy, last year around the winter solstice. Nobody’s sure what but the Olympians are worried. Mr. D has been stressed out. He’s been kept out of the loop, learning about things weeks after they’ve happened. He hasn’t been this upset since the War on Drugs,” Grover said. 

“So what, you think I’m the kid in this prophecy?” I asked.

“Listen, prophecies are never straightforward. They’re not a straight path, they fold over on themselves, stretch ahead, double back, some get cut off. It’s been centuries since the prophecy was written, it could last another century before it comes to pass. I was just worried about making sure you survived the school year,” he said. 

“Well hey, you pulled that off at least,” I said, patting his shoulder. 

“Barely. Leaving you behind at the bus stop? That could have gotten you killed, we were lucky the Minotaur went after me before you otherwise…” Grover stopped short. 

I could feel a breakdown coming. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as he rocked back and forth. I heard his nose breathing hard and stuffy as he gripped my arm. 

“…I was so scared. I thought I’d gotten you killed, I got your mom-“ 

I didn’t let him finish. I pulled his face into my shoulder as I fought back my own tears. 

“It’s not your fault. If my dad is really some god and I’m some walking nuke then he should have made sure my mom was safe, he should have sent me here sooner, we could have been friends sooner,” I said. 

Me and Grover held each other like that, I couldn’t tell for how long. Eventually we were interrupted by the sound of people approaching. 

“Well isn’t that a touching sight. Half-pint and billygoat crying like a pair of babies,” Clarisse said, marching over to us. 

I stood up putting myself between her and Grover, it was natural. 

“What do you want, Clarisse?” I asked. 

“We didn’t finish our fight. I was actually excited to see the kid who beat the Minotaur. Except now I’m not sure you didn’t get a lucky shot while he was busy laughing at you,” she said. 

Her cronies fanned out forming a semi-circle around us. The lake was to our backs, I didn’t trust Grover’s goat legs to swim away to safety. 

“Why don’t I break the rest of your hand, then we’ll see who’s laughing,” I said, raising my fists. 

The Ares kids cracked their knuckles and grinned. Clarisse pulled her splint off and matched my stance. 

“Gonna enjoy putting you in the ground, Prissy,” she said. 

“You’re going down with me,” I said.

Chapter Text

Me and Clarisse circled each other. I felt more at home out in the open, the grass beneath my feet. I could hear Grover whimpering as he watched on. Clarisse and I both eyed each other, waiting for the other to make a move.I couldn’t go in blind like I’d done earlier, she’d be expecting me to try and break her hands. 

Without a word I suddenly turned and charged at the girl at the edge of the circle. I saw her eyes go wide as I punched her square in the nose. I felt her nose fold and crack under my fist as I kicked her ankle sending her to the ground. I had just enough time to reach the next guy before the Ares kids found their senses. 

He raised his arms to guard his face, leaving his lower half exposed. I rode the grass through his legs, wrapping my arms around his ankle and twisting us over. I could feel a tree root nearby and guided his shin into it. His shout was almost as deafening as the impact. 

I didn’t have time to get back to my feet before one of the kids grabbed me around my neck, wrapping me in a hold, looping his arms under one shoulder and over the other. His fingers were exposed but Clarisse grabbed my arm before I could get free. I felt Clarisse gripping my wrist, about to break it. We were still on an incline. I kicked off the ground with both feet pulling the three of us to the ground. 

More Ares kids approached as we tried untangling ourselves. I brought my elbow down against the side of the guy grabbing me, just managing to break through his grasp to get free. I ate a kick to the side of my face, feeling my ears go deaf as I fell to the ground. One of them pulled me up as another drove their fist into my gut. Pain boiled in my stomach as I felt my muscles reacting in slow motion through the shaking of my head. Another gut blow knocked my leg out from under me. Clarisse got to her feet and punched me across the face, wincing as she did so with her bad hand. 

I was resigned to curling up and taking the beating when the grip around me went limp. The guy behind me let out a high note that would have made the Apollo kids weep as he crumpled to the ground. Grover pulled me up away from the Ares kids 

“Low blow goat boy,” one of them spat. 

“Says the three to one advantage!” he shot back. 

I staggered up, staring down the three remaining Ares kids. In spite of the ringing in my ears and the pain in my gut I felt my teeth bare in a grin. It felt good having Grover on my side, just like old times. The other Ares kids looked unnerved by my expression but Clarisse just matched it. 

“All’s fair in love and war,” she said.

“That explains your love life,” I quipped. 

Her smile got real wide with that one as she rushed me. I put a full first to her jaw but she just kept barreling into me, sending us both to the ground. Clarisse wrapped her arms around me and started lifting me just like earlier. The problem was I was completely out of breath, my earlier reverse was out of reach. The only thing that was in reach was Clarisse’s ear. Taking a leaf out of boxing history I grabbed Clarisse’s ear and pulled as hard as I could. 

She followed through on the throw, fully suplexing me to the ground. The pain in her ear was enough to keep her off me as I tried to remember how to breathe. Me and Clarisse got to our feet. My teeth felt loose enough to fall out of my head and they tasted like pennies but Clarisse’s face had a fresh red stripe across her cheek and her ear was at a forty five degree angle. We geared up for another clash when a pair of arrows sprouted from our shoes. Our pinned feet sent us falling into each other as a voice called out. 

“Enough!” Chiron said, trotting over pulling his bow over his shoulder. 

Clarisse was busy trying to pull her arrow free as I ditched my vomit color shoe and leapt on her. We didn’t get very far before Chiron pulled us apart, holding us separately in each arm. 

“Ms. La Rue, Mr. Jackson, you both are out of line!” He said. 

“He started it!” Clarisse said.

“You escalated it!” I snapped back. 

“Enough! You both behave like rabid dogs! You both are going to the medical center and then we are going to have a serious discussion about your behavior!” He said. 

Me and Clarisse were sitting next to each other as a pair of Apollo campers fixed us up. Her ear got wrapped up while her wrist got a full brace this time, I got a bandage across my nose to stop the bleeding and some icy-hot over my bruises. 

We both kept bickering through the process, exchanging insults, names, swears, until the aides stuck popsicle sticks in our mouths to shut us up. By the time we were sitting on the couch waiting for Chiron to hear from the eyewitnesses it was practically a game. We still both went quiet as Chiron rolled in on his wheelchair, how did that work?

“I’ve spoken with your cabin mates Clarisse. They say that Percy was the one who started the fight,” he said before turning to me, “Grover and a pair of campers on the lake say it was Clarisse and her siblings who approached you first.” 

“She was just mad I beat her earlier on the wrestling mat,” I said. 

“Oh, you’re lucky you don’t know how to wrestle for shit otherwise I would have choked you out so hard-”

“That’s enough from both of you. As far as I can tell neither of you behaved in a manner fit for heroes. As such the both of you will be exempt from the campfire activities for the night and your dessert privileges will both be withheld until you two work things out between you two,” Chiron said. 

“We already did that,” Clarisse said.

“Yeah, we’re good,” I added. 

Chiron looked shocked at our easy makeup but cleared his throat. 

“Well then you’ll both be waiting two weeks until you can enjoy s’mores again,” Chiron finished, “Now then, you’d both best be on your way to the dining area or you’ll miss out on your dinner as well.” 

We both stood up, wincing slightly, and walked out of the big house. We passed Mr. D on the porch who sipped loudly from his can. 

“A bare knuckle brawl before dinner, you’re proving to be quite the star pupil here Perry,” he said. 

Clarisse laughed as I did my best to ignore him. We walked off following the sounds of eating in the distance. 

“So, you make all your friends trying to jump them?” I asked Clarisse. 

“Pfft, any child of Ares knows the best friendships are forged in blood,” she said. 

She licked her thumb and wiped some dried blood on her face. 

“Now you,” she instructed. 

I rolled my eyes and wiped some blood from under my nose. She grabbed my hand, initiating a thumb war as we walked. 

“From now on we’re friends. Unless you do something stupid, or I decide I want to kick your scrawny ass again,” she said. 

“Says the girl with two broken thumbs,” I said, pinning her under my nail. 

She wrenched her hand free as we approached the dining area. 

“I’ll smooth things over with my siblings, you just try not to talk too much shit till they get the chance to rib you,” she said, punching my shoulder and joining the raucous at her table. 

I found the Hera table easily enough, it was twice the size of everyone else’s and had the most young kids. It was pretty packed but there was still plenty of space next to Lewis. I sat down next to him with a sigh and a groan. 

“And here I thought I’d made a bad investment, way to prove me wrong,” Lewis said, eating an entire roll of bread in one bite. 

“Glad you turned over a profit so quickly, where do I fill my plate?” I asked. 

“I’ ah’eddy ‘oes ‘ah,” he mumbled through his mouth of grain. 

“You just hold your plate out and it’ll fill itself, you have to ask for your drink though,” Norman said, digging into a massive pile of strawberries. 

I went along with it, almost dropping my plate as it filled up with a steaming pile of barbecue and grilled corn. I set it down in surprise before holding out my glass. 

“Fanta,” I said, watching my glass fill with orange fizzing liquid. 

It switched from orange to red to yellow to green to blue to pink before finally settling on purple. I took a cautionary sip, it was perfect. I took a moment to take in the feeling. I was surrounded by laughter and happiness, I had good food and friends around me, I felt like I was in a good place. I dug in happily. 

Once we’d finished our plates everyone got up and started scraping their leftovers into the central fire. 

“It’s an offering to the gods, they get the last rights on whatever we don’t finish,” Norman explained, “An old custom from when Prometheus managed the relationship between gods and mortals.”

“Momma’s going hungry tonight, ” Lewis said, licking his plate clean. 

Norman grimaced before standing up and scraping his stems into the fire, “For Aeolus,” he said. 

I stood up, hesitantly approaching the hearth. I dropped my corn cob into the flames. I wasn’t sure who to pray to, my dad hadn’t exactly answered my calls before. 

“To Hera, thanks for the bed,” I finally said. 

We all sat back down after our prayers as Chiron stood up from his table. 

“It has been an eventful day. Just this morning one of our brave searchers, Grover Underwood, brought back a demigod,” Chiron announced, Grover got a few cheers from Annabeth and Luke which he accepted sheepishly from the staff table, “Camp HalfBlood welcomes Percy Jackson! Mr. Jackson, can you claim your godly parent?” 

I felt like I’d gotten a punch between the eyes being put on the spot like that. I saw kids at my table cover their eyes and put their heads down. 

“Uh, no sir. Whoever he is, he hasn't taken responsibility for me yet,” I said.

“Here’s hoping, before you burn this camp to the ground,” Mr. D said. 

I felt my headache return with his words, I leaned back against the table as the other campers got up to leave. It felt like a pair of hammers were trying to burst out of my head. 

“Hey, you need to go back to the medical center?” Clarisse asked as she walked over. 

“I’m fine, just a migraine,” I said. 

“Yeah, or you’re still reeling from that suplex earlier,” she said, leaning against a pillar. 

“How’s your wrist doing?” I asked. 

Clarisse’s fingers were working just fine as she started stacking dishes on the tables. I joined her and a pair of satyrs before me and her sat down on the edge of the pavilion. 

“What’s your deal with the goat anyways?” Clarisse asked.

“Met in school, apparently he’s been protecting me the whole time I was pulling him out of lockers,” I said. 

“Well after what he did to Sherman earlier I’d say he’s been doing a good job. Better than last time at least,” she said.

“Last time, he’s been a protector before?” I asked. 

Clarisse frowned. “It’s his business, people gossip too much anyways. They aren’t all lucky enough to get a Satyr to carry them off to this place,” she said. 

I wanted to ask her some kind of follow up question but she headed off into the night towards the glowing red eyes of the boar head over the door to cabin five. In the distance I could hear the sounds of everyone else around the campfire singing and dancing. Things felt good here, but I was still the new kid getting into trouble. At least I had a bed. 

I woke up in that same bed the next day, and the day after that, and every other day for the rest of the week. It was an easy routine to fall into, especially with how everyone at the camp seemed determined to run me ragged until they figured out what my deal was. 

Annabeth showed more interest in me than any other girl my own age ever had and the experience was not what it had been hyped up as. She managed to get the job of teaching me Greek. Surprisingly ancient Mycenaean wasn’t any harder to pick up than Italian or Portuguese. Not that I had an easy time learning the language, it was just as hard for me to read Homer as it was to read Shakespeare. 

Apparently it was a pretty common thing at camp, at least half of the kids had some kind of learning condition. Still, Annabeth had that same energy special needs teachers had whenever they got their hands on me. Like I was some kind of puzzle piece they could spin and press until it fit into place. The only difference was she didn’t seem to know where she wanted me to fit. 

Learning Greek was the least of my worries, oddly enough spelling homework was a welcome challenge compared to what else the camp had me doing. Norman was throwing a half dozen hobbies at me a day trying to find something that clicked. Horseback riding? No luck, every mare I approached seemed to scoff and run off the moment I tried to saddle up. Sleight of hand? I’m pretty sure the Hermes kid trying to teach me could have stolen the shoes off my feet before I managed to pick a lock. Norman tried to get me back into gardening but I’m pretty sure he was just looking for an excuse to score fresh strawberries from the Demeter cabin. Cheese making? The less said about that the better. 

Luke was still running circles around me with his sword tied behind his back. We moved on to dulled practice swords but that just cemented my disdain for blades. I had a bit more luck with spear combat against Clarisse. She still gave me a black eye with the practice spear but I kept it even with a strike to her knee that had her limping. It still felt weird having to deal with so much weapon at once, every thrust had me threatening to tip over. My guard was stiff and easy to slip past, the bruises Luke gave me with the flat of his blade made that clear. 

The difference was Luke seemed to be pushing me to get better at my pace, not his. Every time I lost my grip or almost cut my own head off he was there pulling me up to my feet and showing me how to bandage my own cuts. Clarisse had her own kind of training approach, namely taunting and smacking me until I threw my spear aside and things devolved into a wrestling match. Her criticism was constructive at least, when I could hear her whispering in my ear in the middle of a headlock. 

Through it all me and Grover were still friends. Things felt different somehow, he was more tense around me, like he was waiting for a bomb to go off whenever we were together. I tried asking him what was up but he just said I had a shadow over me, whatever that meant. 

I let him perform a few rituals on me, mostly a lot of chanting and smacking different plants in my face. At least the placebo effect made us both feel better afterwards. Despite the constant stress testing, rumors, and rabid Hera kids, I found myself enjoying camp. Now that I wasn’t besmirching the name of his father’s craft I actually got to know Beckendorf. He was a warm guy, a healthy orange glow around him even when his hair wasn’t catching fire. He kept asking how he should forge my horn but I didn’t want to be stuck with a weapon I couldn’t use properly.

I got to meet a friend of Grover’s too in between Norman making me do card tricks and swimming across the lake. Juniper was a dryad, quite literally a forest girl. At first I thought she was another camper but once I saw her melt out of a shrub I started putting things together. The discoloration of her veins, the off white of her teeth, why she smelled like herbal tea, it started to make sense why Grover was such a treehugger. We got along pretty well, I heard her asking Grover why I was so gloomy but it didn’t seem like she was talking smack. Her relaxed energy and free berries made me like her. Not nearly as much as Grover though, I could practically feel the blush on his face whenever he leaned against her shrub. 

Camp was weird but it was almost comforting. After what happened on the highway the world turning upside down felt appropriate. I wondered if Gabe had starved to death without my mom feeding him, if he’d pawned her jewelry for poker money yet. I didn’t waste my time thinking about him for very long but mom occupied a small corner of my mind at all times. The more I learned about the world, the mythological side of things, the more I started to wonder. 

A lot of heroes delved into the underworld. Odysseus found his fallen friends in the underworld, Hercules broke into the place more than once, Orpheus almost made it out with his wife in tow, even Sisyphus managed to trick the gods of death more than once. If all of them could make it in and out, who’s to say I couldn’t? 

Annabeth seemed to sense what I was thinking the further along we got in our lessons. She didn’t address my growing fascination with the underworld but I could feel the tension between us. That tension lasted all the way to the end of the week. We’d just finished breakfast when Mr. D stood up from his seat and called for silence. 

“Alright campers, we’ve had a rather messy week thus far. I for one welcome the excitement but I can tell you all are brimming with pent-up energy,” he said.

We gave a halfhearted grunt in response. 

“Exactly. So I figured, what better way to get that energy out than a classic game of capture the flag? Following our last game the two current flagholders are the Ares and Athena cabins respectively. Alliances have been distributed at random so I don’t want to hear any complaining,” he announced with a snap of his fingers. 

All at once the tables cleared, red and blue tablecloths appeared loaded with weapons and armor. A cheer rose up as the different teams were made known. I watched the other side of the table disappear under a heap of arms and armor as kids scrambled for equipment. I was left with a dented breastplate with a target drawn on the back of it but it was the only one that fit. I picked up a sword that was equally uncomfortable and managed to attach it to my belt without cutting my legs off. Last was a plumed helmet, minus the plume which had been given a buzz cut. It was only once the 20+ Hera kids were all equipped that I saw the crimson boar on our tablecloth. 

I looked across the pavilion to see a somewhat uneven spread of colors across the tables. Athena had more tables overall but even with just the Hera and Ares cabins things were almost dead even. Add in the extra sons of Dionysus and a few Aphrodite kids and numbers wise it was mostly evened out. Even so, I wasn’t so sure about our odds. Hera had numbers on our side but we weren’t exactly a cohesive unit, especially with the younger kids in our ranks, even if they were kids like Lisa and Reggie. Ares accounted for a decent chunk of the team, they were a coordinated group but they weren’t exactly subtle. The Dionysus twins were helpful in the forest but there were only the two of them and they weren’t known for their fighting. Aphrodite was the real wildcard. A little over a half dozen kids who looked like the kids of A-list celebrities. Most of them sat out from the main combat activities at camp but they were a major disruptive force around camp. The Hermes kids could steal your wallet without you knowing, the Aphrodite kids could talk you out of your wallet, keys, social security number, and probably the shirt off your back while they were at it. 

That left us up against everyone else at camp. The Apollo kids were expert archers, the Demeter kids were better with tamed fields than wild vegetation but there were a lot more of them than the Dionysus kids, Hephaestus had their own private armoury of magical gear, and Hermes was the only cabin that could rival the Hera cabin’s numbers. 

Despite all that I found myself getting caught up in the stamping boots and jeers of the Ares kids as we armed up and marched out into the forest. We found a spot on an overhang to set up our flag, it meant that whoever ran up to get our flag would have to get back down the hill they’d fought up or risk a twenty foot jump. I found myself gravitating towards the rest of the Hera kids taking up defensive positions when Clarisse pulled me and one of the Dionysus guys, Castor, aside.

“Listen, there’s no way Athena and Hermes together will go all in on a frontal assault. I say we beat those sneaky creeps at their own game. I want you two to sneak around the river, do not let yourselves get caught. I’ll lead a distraction against the front of their base while you two take the flag. Even half our numbers should be enough to draw away their defensive measures,” she said. 

“You want just the two of us to get all the way into the heart of their camp, just me and him?” Castor asked. 

I frowned at him but still got his point. 

“Work your plant magic or something, I’m sending Percy in case you two manage to get caught. I expect you to fold whoever you see into a pretzel alright? And look on the bright side, if you don’t pull this off we’ll just storm the base and take the flag by force,” she said casually. 

She was so nonchalant about the whole idea I almost bought into the whole plan. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had something else planned for the two of us. 

“Alright, quit your dawdling and get over there already!” she ordered, sending me and Castor running off into the woods. 

Chapter Text

I was more and more convinced that Clarisse had ordered me to go take a hike the further me and Castor went. I heard the sounds of battle echoing through the forest, a pair of dryads were up in a tree complaining about the noise disrupting the woodpeckers cleaning their bugs out. Castor didn’t seem stoked for the mission either. The guy was at least fourteen but he wore every year on his face even worse than his dad. His dirty blonde curls were the color of an overripe banana, his face was covered in a patchy mess that could have passed for a beard at the right angle. Still, beneath his blooming acne and facial hair he was relatively chill. Approachable the same way a public bench was.

“So, uh,” I asked, stepping over a root. “What’s it like having your dad at camp?”

“Probably like having your parent as your teacher,” he said, ducking under a low branch. “He’s alright, knowing he’s around is a lot more than most kids get. It’s mostly just me and Pollux though, he’s a hands off kind of parent.” 

“Oh,” I contributed to the conversation. 

I couldn’t imagine what that was like. Even when my mom was miles away it felt like she was always trying to be there for me somehow. I hadn’t realized how much I missed having her letters when I was away from home. 

“Shh, hold on…” he said. 

Somehow that made a lot more sense to me. Something was off in the forest. We ducked down in a dried up stream listening to the forest. Beneath the clash of swords and muffled explosions the woods around us seemed to be holding their breath. I looked up over the ridge but didn’t see anything. I slowly unsheathed my sword, staring out into the woods for some sign of movement. My eyes tracked up a tree, spotting the shape of a dryad leaning out of her trunk. She was looking out at a space a few yards ahead of our position. Following her gaze I didn’t see anything at first. 

Then, all at once I seemed to put things together. The dryad staring out at the floor, the reason Juniper’s eyes seemed to glaze over after we got too far from her shrub, the subtle depressions in the mulch covering the forest floor. I stood up suddenly, I could feel Castor’s body next to me flinch as well as the person right in front of me. I swung blindly, feeling my blade strike metal as sparks flew and a grunt came from thin air. 

“They’re invisible!” I called out. 

The forest seemed to come alive all at once. Piles of leaves sprang up as arrows flew at us. I felt a blunt arrowhead impact my shoulder sending me falling back into the creek. My sword clattered against the creekbed out of my grasp as the enemy team threw off their camouflage, sheets of leaves and grass dissolving the moment they hit the ground. We were staring down at least six campers, not to mention the invisible assailant I’d just struck. I had no idea where they’d gone but I could feel the surprise my swing had given the group. 

“Book it!” Castor called out, running through the dried muck across the stream.

I stumbled after him as we cut through the forest. 

“They’re heading for the flag, after them!” I heard a voice call out from behind us. 

We practically flew through the undergrowth, pulling branches to impact our pursuers. I heard arrows whizzing past my head, one dryad started launching pinecones at an Apollo kid after her arrow landed an inch away from a squirrel on her trunk. They were only slowed for so long, I heard their footsteps crashing through the brush getting louder and louder. 

“Get down!” Castor shouted as we ran straight for a massive tree covered in lichen. 

I rolled over just in time to watch a sea of light green moss and algae fly overhead and spray the campers chasing us. I saw the invisible figure just a few feet behind me get plastered in green. The campers were left spitting up moss and leaves trying to wipe their eyes. They were disoriented, I could hear the sounds of the main battle just a few dozen yards away. 

“Get them!” I called out. 

Castor was panting and wheezing against the tree leaving just me running right at the entire force, oops. There wasn’t time to worry, I saw an Apollo kid reaching for an arrow already. I ran straight into the half-visible figure knocking them over. I felt a cut on one of my arms open up as they fell over but I didn’t slow down. I got to an Apollo guy just in time to watch his eyes focus on me before I grabbed his bow and yanked him to the ground. I grabbed it by the string and swung it against his back. It was a weak hit but it sounded rough and probably hurt like hell judging by the yelp the bow’s owner let out. I unstrung the bow, smacking myself in the face as the tension was released all at once. A Hermes guy ran up on me with a sword but compared to Luke this guy was moving in slow motion. I dodged his swing and grabbed his helmet by the blue plume. I got a good look at his face before I slammed his helmet across it. 

I was doing good, still on my feet which was more than I’d managed against the Ares kids at this point in our fight. My luck was running out though. The Apollo guy was already restringing his bow, the Hermes guy was shaking off the helmet strike and I could see the invisible figure ditching their armor and getting less visible as their breastplate hit the ground. I backed up feeling my armor clang against the trunk of an elm tree. I was in the massive shadow of this tree, no running away this time. 

“Give it up Percy, you’re outnumbered,” I heard the invisible figure say, their voice was familiar.

“Annabeth?” I called out. 

“You’re cornered, you really want to spend your whole week getting ganged up on?” she asked, in a different spot from before. 

She’d wiped off most of the lichen, I couldn’t focus enough to spot her footsteps while watching the others encircle me. 

“I won that fight!” I called out, grabbing a branch off the ground. It was only slightly better than the helmet in my other hand. 

I could feel the silence coming from where Annabeth had been.

“Fine, but I don’t think Pollux will appreciate his brother getting a broken arm on your watch,” she said. 

I hadn’t realized until now a pair of Hermes kids had restrained Castor. He was still woozy as they held him up. 

“That’s cruel!” I said, stating the obvious. 

“You don’t exactly have room to stand on breaking bones after what Grover told me about the Minotaur,” Annabeth said, she was close, “If this were real you’d have an arrow through your arm and my dagger in your neck. So why don’t you put down the stick and let us focus on the real fight.” 

I gritted my teeth. Right, this wasn’t a real fight. I was the diversion the whole time. Clarisse had sent me out here to stop Annabeth’s team from sneaking around while she got the glory of leading a charge. I saw the other guys falter in their approach as they saw my face. Right, I was the guy who’d beaten a monster three times my size before I’d even gotten to this camp. I’d taken out Mrs. Dodds before that. I felt my blood boiling at the thought of her. The moment she’d singled me out my whole life seemed to become one giant headache. I felt like sharing my pain. 

I stepped forward, the other guys stepped back. I took another step, they stood their ground this time. In one move I threw the helmet at one of the guys holding Castor and rushed the nearest camper. 

Seconds before we clashed a booming horn reverberated throughout the woods. I stopped short just before impact while the other campers groaned and sheathed their weapons. I heard the sound of Annabeth’s dagger land stuck in a tree, suddenly appearing in the side of an oak. 

I was worried Annabeth was in for a shower of acorns, a part of me was actually excited for it, but one look at her face as she reappeared could have made a sequoia whither to a toothpick. Her grey eyes were storming as she marched over to yank her dagger out of the tree. 

In the distance I heard arguments going off amid the cheering. Pretty soon I could hear a full encore of the conflict starting up. The other campers rushed over to the noise, leaving Castor in a wheezing pile against a tree. 

I ran over to check on him, pulling off his helmet and pressing my hand to his burning forehead. 

“Are you okay man?” I asked, running my hand over the back of his neck. 

“Why didn’t you run?” He asked in turn, focusing on me with heavy eyelids.

“I thought we were going to win,” I said. 

“We were getting hunted like deer. I was trying to buy time for you to run, join the fight, maybe even get the flag,” He groaned, trying and failing to stand up. “Instead, you planted your feet like a damn bull and charged.”

I frowned sitting back in the leaves around the base of the tree. I hadn’t thought about escaping, Annabeth was probably right about me winding up dead in a real fight. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it man. We made great bait, right Annabeth?” Castor said, turning to smile painfully at Annabeth. 

“It was a decent trick, I hadn’t anticipated Clarisse would try some real strategy for a change,” She said. 

Despite her cooling tone I could still tell she was still heated over the whole thing. In the distance the fighting only seemed to get louder before Chrion’s voice cut through the shouting. 

“Enough! This was a well fought battle, both sides displayed excellent skill. Laurels matter not in a real war,” he said. 

“That’s horseshit!,” Clarisse shouted, entirely without irony, “Those chia obsessed brats were a foot behind my soldiers!” 

“Mind your tongue Ms. La Rue. Men have fought and died for far smaller borders than this boundary line. You are getting dangerously close to your own behavioral Rubicon. Whatever victory you may have earned here won’t matter if you earn an even greater punishment,” Chrion warned. 

“Well, sounds like we weren’t that good after all,” Castor sighed, taking in a deep breath and using the tree to pull himself up, “I need some sugar in my blood, and some vitamins. Let’s ditch this mess and go get snacks.” 

I had only taken a step to follow Castor when a shrill ringing pierced my ears. I fell to my knees as the pain in my head suddenly reappeared. I could hear shouts, screams, somebody near me was shouting something, maybe my name. I opened my watering eyes to see Castor similarly doubled over holding his ears, Annabeth was much the same but kept her footing. 

Behind us I saw what had caused all the noise. Emerging from the shadow of the tree I’d made my last stand at was a massive dog. It was the size of a greyhound, the bus. Its fur was pitch black and oily, its snout was blunt and dripping with dark snot and slobber. The moment my eyes met the dog’s pain erupted in my head. Its eyes were the same burning hateful shade of red as Mrs. Dodds. I could almost hear her voice through the growl this thing was letting out, something in an ancient language spurring the beast on. 

“Percy!” Annabeth shouted, snapping me out of my stupor for a moment. 

The hound turned to face her but she put on a hat and suddenly vanished. I could hear the sounds of the other campers, Chiron was calling for the younger ones to flee. They were rushing towards us, help was coming. Whatever hope that might have given me boiled away the moment this thing’s eyes turned back towards me. The shouting in my head got louder as the beast approached. I turned to flee but the sight of Castor stopped me. He was on his back, breathing fast and hard, staring at the dog. He was frozen in horror, waves of shame and sadness rolling off of him as he gaped like a dying fish. 

I called out his name but it was no good, he was stuck in his own body staring out at the beast. It was picking up speed now, the campers were close but there was no way they’d make it in time. The pain in my head was unbearable but I forced myself to my feet. I ran at the beast. Right as it leapt at Castor I put myself between them holding my arm out. I watched this thing’s teeth sink into my arm, passing through my armor like it was paper. There was a brief moment where I thought “This is going to hurt,” as I felt teeth against bone. I was right, whatever pain was in my head was a distant memory as this thing’s jaws tore at my arm. I felt my blood spray out like a broken faucet, my skin stretch as the beast pulled away from me, and the feeling of bones and ligaments separating one by one.
I couldn’t even scream, the pain seemed to break my mind into two pieces. One half was flailing, trying to get my arm free and punching the snout of the hound, the other half was floating a foot away from my body completely disconnected. That second half was the one watching as Chrion burst through the foliage, his bow drawn and half a dozen arrows nocked. I saw them fly through the air, barely sinking into the neck of the monster before another set was drawn and launched. I might have felt an arrow pierce my hand but everything below my elbow was pure pain. I couldn’t hear a thing but I felt the beast’s final growl die in its throat.

The creature melted into a pool of inky black shadow. I had the bizarre experience of seeing my own arm floating in the puddle, slowly sinking down. I reached out with my stump before my remaining hand pulled the limb free.

Time seemed to move like a skipping record. I watched Chrion run up to me, hoisting me up in his arms. I saw a dryad hugging a squirrel to her chest so tight it looked ready to pop. A pair of Hermes guys with massive lipstick prints on their foreheads helped set Castor on Chiron's back. Annabeth had reappeared staring at me in horror, chasing after us ahead of the rest of the camp as Chiron galloped across the strawberry field. I watched a massive strawberry grow from a drop of blood that hit the ground. It swelled up before bursting into jam. I saw Mr. D sitting on the porch of the big house. I heard his can hit the ground as he spotted us running for the infirmary.

I was in a bed the next moment, my throat hurt because I was screaming. Annabeth and Grover were holding me down as Chrion held my severed arm to its stump. My skin bubbled and smoked as he poured nectar over the mangled ends. I felt good, great, amazing, for half a second before the pain returned. Chiron turned towards the bed next to mine shouting something. Then Grover and Annabeth were shouting. Mr. D was at my side staring at me. His face went from annoyed to confused and back to annoyed. He pressed his hand to my forehead and seemed to pull the pain from my head. He stared at a dark black thing in his hand, it looked like a tumor to me, then back to my head with that puzzled look. As he reached to touch my forehead my good arm reached up and grabbed his palm. 

A flood of memories washed over me. I saw a massive purple bonfire, a girl holding my hands as we danced around the flames, the pain and love pouring from her eyes as she laughed and cried all at once. Mr. D pulled his hand free, staring at me in awe. Grover shouted something at him that seemed to break his stupor. He grabbed my arm, holding it together in his hands. Warmth flooded my body, the feeling was indescribable. It almost felt like when my mother held me when I was young, but there was something off about it.Mr. D stepped back still staring at me. I could feel my senses slowly coming back to me, then everything went dark. 

When I woke up things were dark. I opened my eyes and things were still dark. For a moment I was worried I’d gone blind but a gentle inspection of my face revealed my head was wrapped in bandages. I peeled them back slowly, giving my eyes a moment to adjust to the light. I was still in the infirmary, the sun was just beginning to set outside, but the rest of the room was empty. 

My whole body felt stiff and sore as I stood up from the bed. My god awful shoes were next to my bed. I laced them up and slowly walked through the big house. I passed Seymour and tossed him a treat. He seemed a whole lot more affectionate all of a sudden, purring and watching me with big pupils as I walked out of the house. The whole camp seemed deserted but I heard the sounds of dinner coming from the dining pavilion. My stomach growled at the thought of food, how long had I been out for?

I slowly walked up to everyone eating their dinner. Nobody was talking that much but they all went silent as soon as they noticed me. I felt every pair of eyes on me, the questions, the worries, the jealousy, the anger, the confusion, the worry, the pity, it all hit me at once as I stumbled up onto the marble. 

I scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Norman had his eyes down on his plate but his hands were clenched, Lewis was looking at me like I was roadkill he couldn’t recognize as an animal, Annabeth looked at me even more confused than before, Clarisse was the only one who seemed to recognize the silence we were in but she didn’t break it. Eventually my eyes landed on the staff table. Chiron was looking at me with concern, his eyes looked tired and his hair was messy. Mr. D was looking at me like he just now recognized who I was and it wasn’t good. My eyes finally landed on Grover. That damn look was back, like he’d just learned I had a terminal illness and I was about to drop dead any moment. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, not sure who to direct my question towards. 

Mr. D stood up from his seat. He gripped his can with a shaking hand. The worn aluminum slowly shifted, warping in his hand until he was holding a massive silver cup covered in red and purple gemstones. 

“Perseus Jackson, upon my right as an Olympian I claim you as my own,” he said, tipping his cup forward and pouring it into the hearth in front of him. 

The flames rose, shifting to a deep maroon color, as thick red steam rose from the flames. The heat died down as the steam blew towards me. It solidified into a massive emblem above my head marked with an overflowing goblet wrapped in vines. The steam wrapped around my body forming the shape of a toga and a crown of vines around my head.

Then, all at once, the steam seemed to darken. It shifted into a harsh violet as the symbol shifted. The goblet bubbled over with purple liquid, filling the circle and drowning out the maroon. The emblem split open over my head washing away the steam. The toga was still there but I now had a massive cape hanging from my back patterned like some large cat. The crown was now made of laurels hanging from a pair of horns emerging from my head. The camp gasped as the split emblem folded itself inside out revealing the mark of a screaming face locked in a dozen different expressions all at once.

Even Mr. D seemed shocked by the sudden shift, his whole body seemed to shake as his leopard print shirt inverted colors. The whole pavilion looked around in confusion Chiron stood up, stomping his hoof against the floor. 

“All hail Perseus Jackson, Son of Zagreus, lord of insanity and ecstasy, conqueror of kings, heir to the throne of Olympus… Hail Perseus Jackson, son of the mad god!” he proclaimed. 

The whole camp slammed their cups against their tables chanting, “Hail! Hail! Hail!”

I felt the ground slipping out from under me with each chant. I stared across the pavilion at Mr. D. His face seemed to de-age before me, his hair darkened and got even longer, a pair of horns began to emerge from his head. He stared at me in awe before his face darkened and he slammed his fist down on the table.

“Enough!” he shouted, reverting back to his previous disheveled appearance and casting off the steam around me. “The matter is resolved, take your seat Mr. Jackson.” 

I followed his gaze over to the twelfth table. Castor was staring up at me in awe, his brother Pollox was in total shock. I stumbled over to my seat, staring down at my plate. My headache was gone, my mind was clear, there was no mistaking what I’d just heard. My father was Mr. D.