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Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever Percy went, campers pointed at him and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Annabeth, who was still pretty much dripping wet. But most of them had been blatantly pointing out Sage, who'd come out of the bathroom too, but was completely dry.
Annabeth and Sage showed him a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if one didn't get to the top fast enough. Finally, they returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins.
"I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly.
"Dinner's at seven-thirty, Percy," Sage informed. "Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."
"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets." Percy apologized.
"Whatever."
"It wasn't my fault."
Annabeth and Sage both looked at him skeptically, and slowly Percy realized it was had been his fault. He had made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. And he didn't understand how.
"That was all you," Sage deadpanned. "You had become one with the plumbing."
Percy sent her a look.
"You need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said.
"Who?"
"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."
Percy stared into the lake.
Sage watched as he realized two teenage girls were sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved as if Percy were a long-lost friend.
Percy waved back. Sage held back a snort of laughter at the sight.
"Don't encourage them," Annabeth warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts."
"Naiads," Percy repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. "That's it. I want to go home now."
