Wild ― Piper McLean

―xviii. nothing

THE CAMP HALF-BLOOD WAR COUNCIL was nothing like Verona was expecting—which, really, she probably should have expected.

For one, it was held in the Big House's rec room, around a Ping-Pong table, and a satyr was serving nachos and soda. Someone had brought Seymour the leopard head in from the living room and hung him on the wall. Every once in a while, a counselor would toss him a Snausage and he'd make Verona relay his thanks every single time.

Who knew leopard heads were so polite?

Piper was sitting next to her, looking much happier than she had been when her father's life was in mortal danger. She was smiling, and her glow had nothing to do with her mother.

Gods, Verona was so screwed.

Leo sat on Piper's other side, tinkering with something made of metal and wires that Verona could never hope to understand. There were over a dozen other campers whose names Verona had no hope of learning before the meeting was over. The taller of the brothers from the Hermes cabin—she was pretty sure the blond guy beside him called him Travis—was present, but she had yet to formally meet the other counselors.

Technically, Verona wasn't really supposed to be invited to the meeting, but seeing as she was part of the quest they would be discussing, Chiron gave her a pass.

Annabeth the Scary Dagger Lady had returned from trying to locate her missing boyfriend (unsuccessfully, if the lack of boyfriend was any indication), and Rachel the Oracle sat across from her, looking far more relaxed than the daughter of Athena.

As soon as Jason walked in, Chiron sat up.

"Let's come to order," he said as Jason sat down on Leo's other side. "Lou Ellen, please give Miranda her nose back. Travis, if you'd extinguish the flaming Ping-Pong ball, and Butch, I think twenty pencils is really too many for any human nostrils. Thank you. Now, as you can see, Jason, Verona, Piper, and Leo have returned successfully... more or less. Some of you have heard parts of their story, but I will let them fill you in."

They all looked to Jason, who cleared his throat and began the story. His quest-mates chimed in from time to time, filling in details he forgot. He ended by telling them about Hera visiting his cabin right before the meeting.

"So Hera was here," Annabeth said. "Talking to you."

Jason nodded. "Look, I'm not saying I trust her—"

"That's smart," Annabeth said.

"—but she isn't making this up about another group of demigods. That's where Verona and I came from."

"Romans." Clarisse tossed Seymour a Snausage (Verona shook her head when Seymour tried to get her to translate again). "You expect us to believe there's another camp with demigods, but they follow the Roman forms of the gods. And we've never heard of them."

Piper sat forward. "The gods have kept the two groups apart, because every time they see each other, they try to kill each other."

"I can respect that," Clarisse said. "Still, why haven't we ever run across each other on quests?"

"Oh, yes," Chiron said sadly. "You have, many times. It's always a tragedy, and always the gods do their best to wipe clean the memories of those involved. The rivalry goes back all the way to the Trojan War, Clarisse. The Greeks invaded Troy and burned it to the Ground. The Trojan hero Aeneas escaped, and eventually made his way to Italy, where he founded a race that would someday become Rome. The Romans grew more and more powerful, worshiping the same gods but under different names, and with slightly different personalities."