"OW!"
"Hold still."
"It hurts."
"That's what you get for charging a fire-breathing bull."
Naomi glared at Ethan as he finished wrapping her forearm in gauze, keeping the Aloe Vera dressing in place. "Your bedside manner could use a lot of work."
"And your patient temperament is terrible," Ethan countered.
"I got burned, what do you expect?"
Ethan fastened the bandages securely. "You're mouthy when you're wounded."
"You're mouthy when you're wounded," Naomi mocked.
"I don't sound like that!" Ethan protested.
"I don't sound like that."
Ethan huffed. "I hate you."
This time, Naomi raised her voice to crudely match Drew's: "Cry about it."
Maybe it was the dismal mood that had plagued the camp for weeks since Thalia's tree started dying, or maybe it was the fact that she'd just gotten burned and almost killed by a bronze fire-breathing bull, but Ethan and Naomi both burst out laughing.
When they sobered up, Ethan asked, "Are you sure you don't want some ambrosia?"
"I'll be fine," Naomi assured him. Herbal remedies had an increased effect on Demeter kids and, as it turned out, Persephone kids as well (the plural for the latter was unnecessary, but it made Naomi feel a little less like a one-woman freak show). With the camp's supply of nectar and ambrosia beginning to run low and more and more campers getting injured trying to defend the camp borders, Naomi was fine sticking to natural remedies.
It had been about a month since Thalia's tree was poisoned, and things had only gotten progressively worse in the weeks since. The Apollo and Demeter cabins were trying to figure out a cure for the tree, but so far they'd come up with nothing. All they could do was slow the poison down, keep it from reaching its roots so soon, but it was like Sisyphus and his boulder. There seemed to be no good end in sight.
Naomi sighed, leaning against the railing to breathe for a second—she'd been up and running around with her cabinmates since early that morning, and her lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her. She debated sneaking away for a quick power nap when she spotted two familiar faces in the distance.
"Percy! Annabeth! You're back!"
She ran down the porch steps and pulled them both into hugs, though she had to hold her burned arm out awkwardly to keep from hitting it.
Percy noticed the bandages. "What happened to your arm?"
"Those bulls on the hill," she grumbled. "Are they still up there?"
"They're down," Annabeth told her. "What's going on, Naomi? You didn't keep in touch, and I couldn't get an IM through, now Clarisse is saying something about a new activities director—what's happening?"
Naomi grimaced. "It's been a long year," she said. "A bad one."
"Is everyone at the border okay?" Ethan asked, coming down the porch steps to stand beside her.
"Couple of injuries, but everyone's alive," Percy said, frowning at Ethan. "Who are you?"
"Ethan Nakamura," Naomi said. "From Cabin Eleven. Remember?"
"Oh... yeah," Percy said. "Yeah, sorry."
Ethan raised a hand in an awkward half-wave. "Hello again."
"Speaking of hello," Naomi said, looking at the very tall, distinctly one-eyed boy trailing behind her friends. "Who's this?"
"Naomi, this is Tyson," Percy introduced. "Tyson, this is my friend Naomi."
The tall kid looked at her with one big brown eye. "Hi."
"He's a Cyclops," Annabeth said.
Naomi blinked. "I got that."
"He's also my friend," Percy added, glaring pointedly at Annabeth.
Naomi wasn't sure what that was about. "Oo-kay," she said. "Hi, Tyson."
"Hi," he said again.
"I'm gonna go check and see if the Stolls need help in the armory," Ethan told her. "Or just... make sure they haven't set it on fire or something. See you at dinner?"
Naomi nodded, bumping his fist as he passed. "See you." She turned back to Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson as he walked off and jabbed a thumb toward the front door behind her. "Come on—Chiron's upstairs, but... well, he's not going to be here much longer."
❊
Chiron was in his apartment, listening to his favorite 60s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags.
As soon as Tyson saw him, he froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture.
Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"
Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not... leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Naomi understood why—Chiron was like a second father to her.
Chiron ruffled Annabeth's hair and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. And Percy, goodness. You've grown over the year!"
Percy swallowed. "Clarisse said you were... you were..."
"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr. D had to punish someone."
"The wrong someone," Naomi grumbled.
"But this is crazy!" Annabeth cried. "Chiron, you couldn't have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree!"
"Nevertheless," Chiron sighed, "some in Olympus do not trust me now, given the circumstances."
"What circumstances?" Percy asked.
Chiron's face darkened. He stuffed a Latin-English dictionary into his saddlebag while Frank Sinatra music oozed from his boom box.
Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he wanted to pat Chiron's flank but was afraid to come closer. "Pony?"
Chiron sniffed. "My dear young Cyclops! I am a centaur."
"Chiron," Percy said. "What about the tree? What happened?"
He shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus."
"Then we know who's responsible. Kro—"
"Do not invoke the titan lord's name, Percy," Chiron warned. "Especially not here, not now."
"But last summer he tried to cause a civil war in Olympus! This has to be his idea. He'd get Luke to do it, that traitor."
"Perhaps," Chiron said. "But I fear I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. The tree has only a few weeks of life left unless..."
"Unless what?" Annabeth asked.
"No," Chiron said. "A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock of the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago."
"What is it?" Percy asked. "We'll go find it!"
Chiron closed his saddlebag. He pressed the STOP button on his boombox. Then he turned and rested his hand on Percy's shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes. "Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It's much too dangerous. But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."
"Why?" Percy asked. "I want to do something! I can't just let the borders fail. The whole camp will be—"
"Overrun by monsters," Chiron said. "Yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life."
Annabeth was trying hard not to cry. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay with Percy and Naomi, child. Keep them safe. The prophecy—remember it!"
"I—I will."
Naomi raised a hand. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has us in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell us about?"
"We've been over this, Naomi," Chiron said gently. "It isn't safe to speak of it."
"Yeah," Naomi grumbled, remembering the dozen or so other failed attempts at getting him to talk about it over the year. "I know."
"Chiron..." Annabeth said. "You told me the gods made you immortal only so long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—"
"Swear you will do your best to keep Percy and Naomi from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."
"I—I swear upon the River Styx," Annabeth said.
Thunder rumbled outside.
"Very well," Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. "Perhaps my name will be cleared and I shall return. Until then, I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It's possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved... one way or another."
Annabeth stifled a sob. Chiron patted her shoulder awkwardly. "There, now, child. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director. We must hope... well, perhaps they won't destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear."
"Who is this Tantalus guy, anyway?" Percy demanded. "Where does he get off taking your job?"
A conch horn blew across the valley—dinnertime.
"Go," Chiron said. "You will meet him at the pavilion. I will contact your mother, Percy, and let her know you're safe. No doubt she'll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger. Do not think for a moment that the titan lord has forgotten you!"
With that, he clopped out of the apartment and down the hall, Tyson calling after him, "Pony! Don't go!"
He started bawling almost as bad as Annabeth.
Naomi tried to reassure them things would be okay, but it was hard to be convincing when she didn't believe it herself.
❊
The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as the campers came up from their cabins. Naomi joined the Demeter cabin, leaning into Asher's embrace as he wrapped an arm around her.
He looked as exhausted as the rest of his siblings—the Demeter cabin had been spending just about every hour of every day trying to figure out what had poisoned Thalia's tree and how to cure it. With their plant magic, they had managed to slow it down a little, but the tree was dying—there was no getting around it. Her cabinmates could only buy the camp so much time before the borders were gone and they became a buffet for every monster in Long Island.
As soon as the last of the campers filed in, Percy led Tyson into the middle of the pavilion. Conversations faltered. Heads turned.
"Who invited that?" somebody from the Apollo table murmured.
From the head table, Mr. D drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't Peter Johnson. My millennium is complete."
Percy's jaw ticked. "Percy Jackson... sir."
Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. "Yes. Well, as you young people say these days, whatever."
Across the pavilion, Drew caught Naomi's gaze and rolled her eyes theatrically.
Next to Mr. D, where Chiron usually sat, was a stranger. A pale, horribly thin man in a threadbare orange prisoner's jumpsuit. The number over his pocket read 0001. He had blue shadows under his eyes, dirty fingernails, and badly cut gray hair, like his last haircut had been done with a weed whacker.
"That's Chiron's replacement?" Naomi whispered to Asher.
"Looks more like our punishment," he muttered back.
The nymphs passed the plates around. When Naomi reached the fire, just as she had every meal since moving into the Cabin Four, she sacrificed a portion to Demeter and sent a prayer of thanks for letting her stay in her cabin.
What was there for her to thank her mother for, anyway?
❊
Almost as soon as she finished eating her slice of pizza, Tantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn for announcements.
"Yes, well," Tantalus said, once the talking had died down. "Another fine meal! Or so I am told." As he spoke, he inched his hand toward his plate, as if trying to sneak up on it. The plate shot away down the table as soon as he got close.
"And here on my first day of authority," he continued, "I'd like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture—er, interact—with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."
"I'm uncomfortable," Katie Gardner, the summertime Demeter counselor, muttered under her breath.
"You and me both," Miranda agreed lowly.
Dionysus clapped politely, leading to some half-hearted applause from the satyrs. Tyson was standing at the head table, looking uncomfortable, but every time he tried to scoot out of the limelight, Tantalus pulled him back.
"And now some changes!" Tantalus gave the campers a crooked smile. "We are reinstituting the chariot races!"
Murmuring broke out at all the tables—excitement, fear, disbelief.
"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."
"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," Lee from the Apollo cabin called.
"Yes, yes!" Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning! The first race will be held in three days' time. We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?"
That got just about everyone excited.
Then the last person Naomi would expect objected.
"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table. "What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—"
"Ah, the hero of the day," Tantalus exclaimed. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"
Clarisse blinked, then blushed. "Um, I didn't—"
"And modest, too." Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?"
"But the tree—"
"And now," Tantalus said, as several of Clarisse's cabinmates pulled her back into her seat, "before we proceed to the camp the campfire and sing-alone, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here." Tantalus waved a hand toward Tyson.
Uneasy murmuring spread among the campers.
"A Cyclops?" one of Naomi's cabinmates—a summer-only camper, Daisy—asked quietly. "Now?"
"Perfect timing," Asher muttered sarcastically.
"Now, of course," Tantalus said, "Cyclopes have a reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normal circumstances, I would release this beast into the woods and have you hunt it down with torches and pointed sticks. But who knows? Perhaps this Cyclops is not as horrible as most of its brethren. Until it proves worthy of destruction, we need a place to keep it! I've thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous. Hermes's cabin, possibly?"
Silence at the Hermes table. The Stolls developed a sudden interest in the tablecloth. Naomi couldn't blame them—Cabin Eleven was always full to bursting. There was no way they could take in a six-foot Cyclops.
"Come now," Tantalus chided. "The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?"
Suddenly everybody gasped as a symbol appeared over Tyson's head—a sea-green, holographic image of a trident.
Poseidon's symbol.
There was a moment of awed silence.
Being claimed wasn't that common of an event. Some campers waited in vain for it their whole lives. When Percy had been claimed by Poseidon in front of the whole camp, everyone had knelt.
But now, they followed Tantalus's lead, and Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"
Naomi glowered at the activities director, and at all of the campers around her who burst into laughter. How could they be so mean?
Tyson didn't seem to notice. He was too mystified, trying to swat the glowing trident that was now fading over his head. He didn't seem to understand that they were making fun of him, how cruel people could be.
❊