Fire boy and water girl

My sympathy was back on as well as my surviors guilt

     There were too many good byes of the people I never had the chance of meeting.

   When night had arrived, the camp did burial shrouds on bodies.

   The one that stuck out the most to me, was the one wrapped in purple with embroidered grape vines. His name was Castor, he was the kid I watched die. I couldn't shake off the feeling that we could've done something to help him.

   His twin brother tried to say a few words but choked up.

   The torches went up, and smoke was sent into the air with sparks up to the stars. I've never seen anything like it.

     I didn't get a chance to talk to Percy as we both dropped and passed out in the Poseidon cabin. Both too exhausted from the maze and the battle.

   We woke up at different times and were too busy helping repair the woods and helped treat the injured.

   He found me around noon in the infirmary helping will and he dragged me to a council In the middle of the woods.

   There were three senior satyrs there, along with Chiron, who was in a wheelchair until his legs healed.    

    The grove was filled with satyrs and dryads(who I learned were the green people) and naiads who were like dryads but from the water.

    Hundreds of them, were anxious to hear what would happen.

   Juniper (who was Grovers girlfriend), Annabeth,  Percy and I stood by Grover's side.

    Silenus (who called me a daft girl) wanted to exile Grover immediately, but Chiron persuaded him to at least hear evidence first, so we told everyone what had happened in the crystal cavern, and what Pan had said.

    Then I explained the weird sound I had made, that  drove the Titan's army back underground.

   "It was panic," Grover said. "She summoned the power of the wild god."

   "Panic?" I asked.

    Chiron explained, "during the first war of the gods and the Titans, Lord Pan let forth a horrible cry that scared away the enemy armies. It is—it was his greatest power—a massive wave of fear that helped the gods win the day. The word panic is named after Pan, you see. And Adelaide used that power, calling it forth from within herself."

    "Preposterous!" Silenus bellowed. "Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover's music was so awful it scared the enemy away! Shes only human after all, it's absurd!"

   "That wasn't it, sir," Grover said. He sounded a lot calmer than I was feeling inside. I probably would've cussed out the goat with a bunch of other absurd names. I knew it was best not to speak out though.

     "He let his spirit pass into all of us. We must act. Each of us must work to renew the wild, to protect what's left of it. We must spread the word. Pan is dead. There is no one but us." Grover continued.

    "After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us believe?" Silenus cried. "Never! We must continue the search. Exile the traitor!"

   Some of the older satyrs muttered.

  "A vote!" Silenus demanded. "Who would believe this ridiculous young satyr, anyway?"

   "I would," said a voice. Everyone turned.

    Striding into the grove was a man who wore a formal black suit. He had curly dark hair carefully combed. His eyes were bloodshot, and had a pudgy flushed face. He looked sad.

     The satyrs all stood respectfully and bowed as he approached and I got confused.

   "That's Dionysus." Percy whispered to me.

    Dionysus waved his hand, and a new chair grew out of the ground next to Silenus's—a throne made of grapevines.

   Dionysus sat down and crossed his legs. He snapped his fingers and a satyr hurried forward with a plate of cheese and crackers and a Diet Coke.

   The god of wine looked around at the assembled crowd. "Miss me?"

   The satyrs fell over themselves nodding and bowing.

   "Oh, yes, very much, sire!"

    "Well, I did not miss this place!" Dionysus snapped. Any sympathy I had for the god left.

   "I bear bad news, my friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more."

    Thunder rumbled in the distance. "Strike that," Dionysus said. "Even Zeus doesn't know. Now, I want to hear Grover's story. Again, from the top."

    "But, my lord," Silenus protested. "It's just nonsense!"  Dionysus's eyes flared with purple fire.

    "I have just learned that my son Castor is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to humor me."

   Silenus gulped, and waved at Grover to start again.

  My sympathy was back on as well as my survivors guilt, at the thought that he was Castro's father.

   When Grover was done, Mr. D nodded. "It sounds like just the sort of thing Pan would do. Grover is right. The search is tiresome. You must start thinking for yourselves." He turned to a satyr. "Bring me some peeled grapes, right away!"

     Peeled grapes?

   "Yes, sire!" The satyr scampered off.

   "We must exile the traitor!" Silenus insisted.

   "I say no," Dionysus countered. "That is my vote."

   "I vote no as well," Chiron put in.

   Silenus set his jaw stubbornly. "All in favor of the exile?"He and the two other old satyrs raised their hands.

   "Three to two," Silenus said.

   "Ah, yes," Dionysus said. "But unfortunately for you, a god's vote counts twice. And as I voted against, we are tied." Silenus stood, indignant.

   "This is an outrage! The council cannot stand at an impasse." And I started to smirk about the way Dionysus acts.

   "Then let it be dissolved!" Mr. D said. "I don't care." Silenus bowed stiffly, along with his two friends, and they left the grove. About twenty satyrs went with them.

    The rest stood around murmuring uncomfortably.

    "Don't worry," Grover told them. "We don't need a council to tell us what to do. We can figure it out ourselves."

    He told them again the words of Pan—how they must save the wild a little at a time. He started dividing the satyrs into groups—which ones would go to the national parks, which ones would search out the last wild places, which ones would defend the parks in big cities.

   "Well," Annabeth said to us, "Grover seems to be growing up."