This Dark Night ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹

―v. touring the summer camp of death

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with kids who don't even believe!"

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

Naomi stared with wide eyes, but Chiron hardly looked up.

"Mr. D," he warned, "your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

More thunder.

Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.

Chiron winked. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph," Percy repeated, still staring at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space.

"Yes," Mr. . confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time—well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away—the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you two. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha! Absolutely unfair."

Mr. D sounded like a six-year-old, pouting like a little kid.

"And..." Percy stammered, "your father is..."

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr. D said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."

"You're Dionysus," Naomi whispered, thinking of the wineglass. "The god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D"

"Then, 'Well duh!' Naomi Murphy. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

Definitely not. 

"You're a god," Percy said.

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

He turned to look at Percy straight on, and Naomi saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes—a hint that he was only showing the smallest bit of his true nature. Naomi had a feeling he could do far worse things than beating a couple of children in pinochle.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly.

"No," Percy said. "No, sir."

The fire died a little. Mr. D turned back to his card game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

Naomi thought Mr. D was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He got up, and Grover rose, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."