daylight | percy jackson

taxi driver, be my shrink for the hour

"Hey, Peleus," Annabeth said. "Keeping everything safe?" 

The last time Aria had seen the dragon he'd been six feet long. Now he was at least twice that, and as thick around as the tree itself. Above his head, on the lowest branch of the pine tree, the Golden Fleece shimmered, its magic protecting the camp's borders from invasion. The dragon seemed relaxed, like everything was okay. Below them, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful—green fields, forest, shiny white Greek buildings. The four-story farmhouse they called the Big House sat proudly in the midst of the strawberry fields. To the north, past the beach, the Long Island Sound glittered in the sunlight.

Still...something felt wrong. There was tension in the air, as if the hill itself were holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.

The trio walked down into the valley and found the summer session in full swing. The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swooping over the woods on their pegasi. Smoke rose from the forges, and hammers rang as kids made their own weapons for Arts & Crafts. The Athena and Demeter teams were having a chariot race around the track, and over at the canoe lake some kids in a Greek trireme were fighting a large orange sea serpent. A typical day at camp.

"I need to talk to Clarisse," Annabeth said.

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Why..." 

The daughter of Athena shrugged slyly. "We've been working on something," she said. "I'll see you guys later."

"Working on what?" Percy asked from behind Aria, a questioning tone present in his voice. 

Annabeth glanced toward the forest.

"I'll tell Chiron you're here," she said. "He'll want to talk to you before the hearing."

"What hearing?" 

But she jogged down the path toward the archery field without looking back.

"Huh," Aria said, her mouth a little agape. "How odd." 

"I'm even more confused than I was before," Percy murmured in agreement.

AS PERCY made his way through camp, he muttered a few hello's and gentle greetings to his friends, raising his hand in awkward waves. In the Big House's driveway, Connor and Travis Stoll from the Hermes cabin were hot-wiring the camp's SUV. Silena Beauregard, the head counselor for Aphrodite, waved at him from her pegasus as she flew past. He took a quick survey of the camp in a feeble attempt to find his best friend, but the satyr was no where to be seen. Finally, Percy wandered into the sword arena, the harmonious noise of metal hitting metal somehow working to ease his anxiously pounding heart. Practicing always made him calm. Maybe cause swordplay was one of the few things he could fully understand. 

As he entered the amphitheater, a jolt of surprise seized him. At the centre of the arena, there lounged the biggest hellhound he'd ever laid eyes on, preoccupied with tearing apart a combat dummy.

Sure, he'd faced off against some hefty hellhounds before—a rhino-sized one tried to take him down when he was just thirteen. But this one? It could've passed for a tank. The mystery of how it bypassed the camp's magical defenses lingered briefly before urgency took over.

With Riptide drawn, he charged, only to have his strike interrupted by another swordsman. Their clash drew the attention of the hellhound, prompting a thunderous bark that nearly rattled the arena.

"Whoa there!" the mystery man said. "Truce!"

"WOOF!" The hellhound's bark shook the arena. 

"That's a hellhound!" Percy shouted.