The Riptides: Percy's Sister (Percy Jackson And The Olympians)

Book Two, Chapter Five 2.5

Ever come home and find your room messed up? Like someone helpful (hi, Mama) has tried to "clean" it and suddenly you can't find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody's been looking through your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?

That's kind of the way I felt seeing Camp Half Blood again.

On the surface, things didn't look all that different. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley- the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins- an interesting assortment of twelve buildings, each representing their own Olympian god.

But there was danger in the air now. You could tell something was wrong. Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow and the scorch marks on Half Blood Hill stood out like scars.

Somebody had messed with one of my favorite places in the world and I was not... well, a happy camper.

As we made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." Some did double takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties- running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. The camp felt like a military school. And believe me, I know. Percy and I have been kicked out of a couple.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely amazed by everything he saw. "Whatsthat!" he gasped.

"The stables for the pegasi," I said. "The winged horses."

"Whatsthat!"

"Um... those are the toilets."

"Whatsthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabins- that brown one over there- until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."

He looked at Percy and I in awe. "You... have a cabin?"

"Number three." Percy pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.

"You live with friends in the cabin?"

Percy and I looked at each other.

"No. No, not really. Just me and Percy." I didn't really feel like explaining. The truth: Percy and I were the only ones in that cabin because we weren't supposed to be alive. The "Big Three" gods- Zeus, Poseidon and Hades- had made a pact after World War II not to have anymore demigod children. We're more powerful than regular half bloods. We were too unpredictable. When we got mad we tended to cause problems... like World War II, just to name one. The "Big Three" pact had only been broken three times- first when Zeus sired Thalia, second when Poseidon sired Percy and third when Poseidon sired me. None of us should've been born.

Thalia had gotten herself turned into a tree when she was twelve. Percy and me... well, we're trying our best not to follow her example. We'd had nightmares about what Poseidon might turn us into if we were on the verge of death- plankton, maybe. Or a floating patch of kelp.

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. I guess I should mention- Chiron is a centaur. From the waist up he looks like a regular middle aged guy with curly brown hair and a scraggly beard. From the waist down, he's a white stallion. He can pass for a human by compacting his lower half into a magical wheelchair. In fact, he'd passed himself as Percy's Latin teacher for his sixth grade year. But most of the time, if the ceilings are high enough, he prefers hanging out in full centaur form.