QUEST WITHOUT HARRY

Chapter 7 : My Dinner Goes Up in Smoke

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever I went, campers pointed at me and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Andrew, who was still pretty much dripping wet.

He showed me 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 you didn't get to the top fast enough.

Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins. "I've got training to do," Andrew said flatly. "Dinner's at seven thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."

"Andrew, I'm sorry about the toilets."

"Whatever."

"It wasn't my fault." he looked at me sceptically, and I realized it was my fault. I'd made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. But the toilets had responded to me. I had become one with the plumbing.

"You need to talk to the Oracle," Andrew said.

"Who?"

"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."

I stared into the lake, wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once. I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skipped a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about five metres 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 I were a long-lost friend. I didn't know what else to do. I waved back.

"Don't encourage them," Andrew warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts."

"Naiads," I repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. "that's it. I want to go home now."

Andrew frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us."

"You mean, mentally disturbed kids?"

"I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human."

"Half-human and half-what?"

"I think you know."

I didn't want to admit it, but I was afraid I did. I felt a tingling in my limbs, a sensation I sometimes felt when my mom talked about my dad.

"God," I said. "Half-god."

Andrew nodded. "Your father isn't dead. Percy. He's one of the Olympians."

"that's... crazy."

"Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?"

"But those are just –" I almost said myths again. Then I remembered Chiron's warning that in two thousand years, I might be considered a myth. "But if all the kids here are half-gods –"

"Demigods," Andrew said. "that's the official term. Or half-bloods." this is meaning of Half-blood.

"then who's your dad?" His hands tightened around the pier railing. I got the feeling I'd just trespassed on a sensitive subject. "My dad is a professor at West Point," he said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history."

"He's human."

"What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?"