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chapter twenty-two. ☄︎. *. ⋆
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DINNER AT CAMP HALF-BLOOD is always an experience. There was always something happening during it; a monster attack, a fight between cabins, a surprise appearance of a god (that had actually happened on one of my first nights at camp; you can always count on Aphrodite to appear without an invitation nor a warning), you get the gist. Crazy things happen at camp meals.
But none as crazy as Chiron leaving and a new camp director taking over for him.
From the hasty explanation Chiron had tried to give me, Percy, and Annabeth before dinner, Dionysus had needed somebody to blame for the poisoning of Thalia's tree and Chiron was the safest bet for pointing fingers—seeing as he was Kronos's son, and all.
Yeah, whatever, the friendly centaur that had trained me since I was eleven was getting kicked out of camp. Gods, I was beyond angry. Annabeth and Percy had to hold me back when I saw Dionysus. If they'd let go, I'm pretty sure I would have pummeled that old god into grape juice quicker than he could snap his fingers and turn me into a glass of red wine.
Annabeth was distraught. She was the only reason I didn't immediately punch Dionysus in the face when Percy let go of me; I was too busy wiping the tears off Annabeth's cheeks and letting her cry onto my shoulder. Then I realized how much I probably looked like Clarisse, and I quickly wiped the scowl from my face.
The cabins filed into their tables. Most of them gave passing glances to Annabeth, then whispered something to their brothers or sisters, except Athena's cabin, of whose head counselor, Malcom, came forward. He asked me if Annabeth was okay. I gave him a glare, hoping the message of obviously not, dummy came across. He nodded swiftly and shuffled back to his table.
Lee, Will, Michael, and a few of my other siblings nodded at me as they passed. Will stuck around for a minute to ask me what was going on. I bit my lip, about to tell him, when I caught sight of the two figures on the stage, waiting for our attention. My eyes narrowed.
Dionysus was wearing his usual getup–a leopard print Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and tennis shoes that looked like he had bought them on sale... twenty years ago. I glared at him. He gave me a nauseatingly sweet smile, then turned to address the sickly-looking man at his side.
"Care to introduce yourself?" he asked the man.
"I am Tantalus," the other man said, smiling coldly. He wore an orange jumpsuit, like that of a prisoner, with a patch on his shoulder that read 0001. He was pale and horribly thin. "On special assignment here until Lord Dionysus decides otherwise."
