Annabeth Chase and the Lightning Thief

Chapter 6 - I get rained on by a toilet

"Jackson, you have to do better than that," I snapped once we were far enough away from cabin eleven that I could no longer hear the sounds of them laughing.

"What?" He asked, looking as confused as ever.

"I can't believe I thought you were the one," I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes.

"What's your problem?" He demanded, looking angry now. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy - "

"Don't talk like that!" I snarled. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

Holy Hera, he really didn't understand anything.

He shook his head, confusion on his face again.

"Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories . . ."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So . . ."

So he did know a bit about Greek Mythology.

"Monsters don't die, Percy," I told him patiently. "They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

I frowned. He was a sarcastic one.

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form."

I saw him frown in thought and I could guess upon what lines he was thinking.

"You mean if I kill one, accidentally, with a sword -"

"The Fu . . . I mean, your maths teacher," I guessed. "That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs Dodds?" He sounded incredulous.

"You talk in your sleep."

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

I glanced nervously at the ground. It was not wise to speak of the Lord of the Dead so casually.

"You shouldn't call them by name, even here," I told him sternly. "We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" He whined. "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everyone so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

He pointed to the first few cabins and I felt myself go pale. It wasn't good that he was so interested in them.

"You don't choose a cabin, Percy," I told him. "It depends on who your parents are. Or . . . your parent."

I stared at him meaningfully, expecting him to get it.

"My mom is Sally Jackson she works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

He didn't get it.

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead," he told me frowning. "I never knew him."

I sighed. I really hated this conversation. Why was it always me?