The Daughter of the Sky // Wattys 2016

Chapter 9

"This is who defeated the Minotaur? With one arrow? I think not! Absolutely not. I believe that Peter Johnson did, at least he came back with a horn! At least he brought back proof. This child couldn't possibly have defeated the Minotaur."

Chiron had introduced this bitter little man as Mr. D, the head counselor of Camp Half-Blood. I assumed the D stood for Douchebag. 

Mr. D threw his hands into the air and shook his head. "You know, a nice glass of wine would really come in handy right about now," he looked at the sky as if expecting a response from someone. I wondered if he had forgotten to take his meds. 

He huffed out a breath before going for plan B. 

Mr.D made a beeline for a box of cheap wine he had stashed in the corner of his office, trying desperately to pour it into his mouth in one swift motion. But right before the clear, pink liquid touched his mouth - it turned brown and fizzy, like soda. 

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but you didn't just say the Minotaur did you? As in the Greek myth?" I raked through my dyslexic, hyperactive brain for as much of the Minotaur myth as I could remember. From what I knew, I could have sworn the guy was trapped in a labyrinth constructed by the Greek genius Daedalus.

"Did I stutter, young lady? I do believe the Minotaur is far from a Greek myth. You saw him right in the flesh, didn't you? Oh Chiron, I don't want to give this speech. Spare me the absolute torture," the man tossed the box of wine over his shoulder miserably.

"What exactly do you know about the world of gods, Orion?" Chiron ignored his boss's sulking and turned to study me with his warm eyes.

"Um, I know they're myths used to describe why things occur. I know each of them controls a realm or something, and I know they come down from Olympus and have kids with mortals in the stories. That's about it I guess."

"Hmm," the centaur stroked his beard, as if he was analyzing my response down to the punctuation. "And do you believe in these said gods and their children?"

"No way! That's why they're called myths," I scoffed. "What, am I supposed to believe they sit up on Mount Olympus in togas and plan natural disasters and have dinner parties?"

"Don't mock the gods, child. They are far more powerful than you could ever imagine," Mr. D grumbled.

I turned towards Mr. D. "Have you met them? Do you have Zeus and Poseidon on speed dial? No wait, let me guess, you dated Aphrodite in high school," I couldn't help but throw my head back in laughter.

Then Mr. D looked at me, and I mean really looked at me. His eyes lit up in a fury of liquid purple flames, purple fireworks, and purple atomic bomb explosions all at once. I saw visions of lush grape vines, then labored seamen, lurched over their ships in agony as they clutched empty bottles of wine. 

This guy wasn't just a camp counselor. He had power. Real power. The kind of power that could ruin you, or maybe even kill you in two seconds flat. 

"You're one of them, aren't you? A god." I whispered.

"Dionysus. God of wine. Mind your manners, will you?" Mr. D didn't even look up from his coke can.

Then everything clicked. I was in the presence of an actual god.  It was hard to believe this short, angry little man who wore awful, tiger print Hawaiian shirts and stroked his goatee way too often was a real life god. Which meant he was in the running to be my real father....but he didn't really seem like my moms type. She usually didn't go for selfish, narcissistic and potentially alcoholic, men with terrible style.

After Mr. D and I's little chat, I pretty much clocked out of the conversation and just sat silently in his office; it was a cozy little room inside of a massive and elaborate powdery blue wooden cabin that housed both him, Chiron and the Oracle of Delphi, whatever or whoever that was.

My eyes were glued to the crackling fire in front of me, dancing in an elaborate fireplace in the center of Mr. D's office. I tried to make out shapes, words, and numbers in the fire, after I decided I didn't care much for whatever Mr. D was talking about.

"Hello? Earth to Ariana?" Mr. D snapped his fingers at me, trying to catch my attention.

"My name is Orion. What's up?" My eyes didn't move from the fire.

"Young lady, you do not ask a God what's up." Just by the tone of his voice I could tell I was really pushing this guy's buttons.

I nodded blankly, but I couldn't have cared less about my manners in the presence of a god. Especially not one as infuriatingly rude as Dionysus. I could've sworn I heard Chiron chuckle under his breath. 

"Sorry. Yes, Mr. D...sir?"

Mr. D sighed deeply, sulking over to his mahogany desk and bowing his head in annoyance.

"We, as the leaders of Camp Half-Blood, blah blah blah, have decided to place you under the guardianship of Daniel Tierra and Peter Johnson," Mr. D huffed in annoyance as if just speaking to me was a drag.

"Percy Jackson," Chiron spoke over Mr. D in a tone that suggested he was used to correcting him.

"That's what all this was about? Who's going to babysit me?"

Chiron shook his head. "Danny is a satyr. Their job is to protect you in the real world, on camp, and wherever else you may go. He will be your sole companion. Percy is a trusted pupil and alumni of this camp. He will train you, help you control your powers, teach you how to use them and hopefully determine your father in the process. Your training with Percy will begin tomorrow in the arena. Be there at dawn."

"Is that before ten in the morning?"

"Don't tempt me to turn you into a grapevine, child," Mr. D threatened me. But I wasn't scared of him. If anything, the guy just pushed my buttons like Stacy Knox, or my sophomore geometry teacher. He was a big bully hiding behind his powers. I don't know what it was; the long drive, saying goodbye to my parents, finding out my best friend was a goat or being told what to do but I was fed up.

"Do it, sir. Be my guest. At least I won't have ears to listen to you,"I shot out of my seat and bolted out the door without so much as a clue as to where I was going. I just knew I had to get out of this place.