Melpomene (PJO)

23. Sunshine and shrouds

"Can I go outside, please? I just need a minute," Mari asked. Michael nodded.

She stepped out of her cabin, gasping in the fresh air. Evening was falling. Usually, campfire would be about to start but Camp Half-Blood was deadly silent. There was an awful stench of despair over the whole place. Mari stared at her hands. Drew's words filtered into Mari's brain, from after the Aethiopian drakon attack all those weeks ago, when they'd been talking about the mist.

"If you don't practice, it's not just a colossal waste. It's dangerous."

Drew had been right. Maybe if Mari hadn't been too scared of what she would do, she would have thought about what she could. She should have used the mist to stop the club before it even got within an inch of her older brother. She could've saved Lee. She could've prevented this.

There was an orange tree growing a couple of meters away from her cabin. It had been there for years. Lee used to pick them all oranges before dinner. They were his favourite. Mari looked away from the tree, back to her hands. She decided then that she wasn't going to think about Circe anymore. This thing with the mist... it was hers. And she was going to use it to protect the family she still had left.

Mari held out a hand towards the tree, grasped onto the mist, and slashed. It didn't hurt.

An orange fell to the floor.

Mari wandered over and picked it up. She had no clue how the brazier pit at the centre of courtyard was still lit, but orange flames flickered over the metal. Mari walked over, holding the orange above the fire. She wasn't making an offering to her father. Not this time. She dropped the orange, staring up at the setting sun.

"For Lee Fletcher," She said.

Mari turned around, not bothering to see if it worked. Lee had been a demigod, not a god, so of course it wouldn't. Still, when she glanced back at the flames, she couldn't help but think they were the exact same colour as Lee's shroud.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

True to his word, Michael didn't let them have a moment of rest.

The next few days were spent treating the wounded in the infirmary (and that was a task within itself, because there was a shorter list of who wasn't wounded). When Michael didn't have them treating the wounded, he had them practising at the archery range. Or at the sword-fighting arena. Or the lava climbing wall. There was no time to mourn. The only person Michael was pushing harder than them was, well, himself. Twice already, Casper had come collect his boyfriend and force him to take a power-nap.

Today, Michael had them all at the archery range. That had lasted all of five minutes – he'd tried to lead the session but now he was dozing on Casper's shoulder while the rest of them practiced.

'Practiced' was a strong word. Nobody shot a single arrow. Kayla had been the only one to try, but she'd broken down into sobs and the arrow had fallen in the sand. That had made Sean cry, too, and Mari had barely been able to hold it together as she and Will (who also looked close to tears) coaxed their conscious siblings into a circle. They sat in silence, bar Michael's uneven snoring. Nobody knew what to say. Lee had been the one who always knew what to say.

That was how Juniper the Dryad found her. Mari was sandwiched between Kayla and Austin, an arm around each of them, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Mari screeched. She jumped back and accidentally dragged Kayla with her. "Juniper," she said. "You have got to stop sneaking up on people like that!"

"Sorry." Juniper didn't sound particularly sorry. The leaves in her red hair were crinkled and discoloured, like they were about to fall out. That was what happened when Dryads got stressed.