I just never woke up. Yeah, that's it. All of this is a dream, and I'll wake at Champlain tomorrow morning.
With Chiron, Y/N passed the volleyball pit. Most of the campers were older than him. Their satyr friends were taller than Ethan, with nothing to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. It was too weird; it made him uncomfortable.
He looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than he had thought—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort.
Y/N and Chiron walked through strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.
"It pays our expenses," Chiron explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort." Certainly because Y/N frowned, he added, "Mr. D's effect on plants."
They continued walking for a little longer.
"What will happen to Ethan?" Y/N asked. "He told me he had done something bad, that he was supposed to protect me and didn't. But he did! Hadn't he gone for help, I'd be lying somewhere near that tree."
Chiron sighed. "I agree, Y/N," he said. "But that's not for me to decide, it's up to Mr. D and the Council of Cloven Elders. And I'm afraid they won't take the state you arrived in here as proof of Ethan's success as a protector."
"He'll get a second chance, right?"
"I think so. But it'll certainly take a while before Ethan is allowed to go looking for new campers again. It's for the best. He's so young..."
"He's my age," Y/N said.
Chiron grinned. "Oh no, Y/N, he isn't."
"How old is he then?"
"If I am not mistaken, twenty-six."
Y/N almost choked himself. "What! But he's been with me for two years, and we were in fifth grade at the time."
"Satyre mature half as fast as humans, Y/N. Ethan is particularly gifted actually since it was only the third time he tried to pass from fifth to sixth grade when he did it. Unfortunately, he doesn't succeed as much in woodland magic. To be honest, he never really tried."
They arrived before a forest. It was huge, at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick that you could imagine nobody had been there since the Native Americans.
"The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed," Chiron said. "Do you have your own sword and shield?"
"Er—"
"Of course not," Chiron said. "Let's see—I think a size six will do. I'll visit the armory later."
What kind of summer camp has an armory? Y/N didn't get an answer as the visit continued. They saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables—Chiron didn't seem to like them very much—the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where sword and spear fights were held.
"Spear and sword fights?" Y/N wondered.
"Cabin challenges and all that," Chiron explained. "Nothing lethal—well, usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."
He pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in with Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
"What do you do when it rains?" Y/N asked.
Chiron frowned as if the answer was obvious. "We still have to eat, don't we?"
Finally, Chiron showed Y/N the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings Y/N had ever seen. Some were particularly clean, others seemed more like haunted houses.
They continued on their way.
"We haven't seen any other centaurs," Y/N observed.
"No," Chiron said sadly. "My kinsmen are wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."
"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really..."
Chiron looked down at Y/N with a smile. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Y/N, I am."
"But, shouldn't you be dead?"
Chiron fell silent, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish...and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."
Y/N tried to imagine what it was like to be a teacher for thousands of years. Not the idea he had of a fulfilling life. "And it's never depressing?" he asked.
"Oh sometimes, but never boring."
Y/N and Chiron finally stopped in front of one of the cabins.
"Cabin eleven," Chiron said. "Here you are, Y/N."
Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. A caduceus was drawn over the doorway.
Chiron opened the door. Inside, the bungalow was packed with boys and girls alike, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.
Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.
"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck Y/N, we'll see each other at dinner."
He galloped away toward the archery range.
Y/N stood at the entrance. The others were staring at him. He had never been on this side of this routine before. At Champlain, it was him who sized the new guys up, not them. Well, I'll get used to it.
"Regular or undetermined?" someone called out.
"What?" Y/N said.
"And one more!" the same fellow groaned.
"Now, now, campers," a guy a little older than the others said as he came toward Y/N. "We're here for that. Welcome, Y/N. You can have that spot on the floor, right here."
The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.
Y/N looked at the corner of the floor assigned to him. It was between the wall and another sleeping bag where a boy was sitting, watching something in his hands. He had black hair and was a little shorter than Y/N.
As Y/N arrived, the boy raised up his head, revealing what you could call the Mediterranean type of face.
"Hi," Y/N said simply, waving his hand. Clearly, it began awkwardly. But it had begun, so he continued, "I was told that's my spot." He pointed to his corner of the floor.
"Okay," the boy said. "You can sit on my sleeping bag if you wish, while you haven't yours. It's not much, but it's still better than the floor, believe me."
Y/N shrugged and sat. "Thanks," he said. Then, before it got really uncomfortable to sit in silence, he added, "I'm Y/N L/N. You?"
"Percy Jackson," the boy said.
The silence came again. Was it always like that for newcomers at Champlain? Y/N couldn't really know, he had always been one of the "senior" if you could say, there since forever.
"So—," the so-called Percy said. "You're new? When did you get there?"
"Apparently, seven days ago," Y/N said, kinda relieved to have something to talk about. "But I woke up only today. And you?"
"Three days ago. And I was unconscious for two."
Y/N stared, then could not help but laugh. "Really?" he said. "What was it for you? I got a monster, a two-headed snake. Look what he gave me." Y/N got out of his pocket the serpent's fang and showed his burned palm and the streak on his shin.
Percy stared, his eyes wide open. "So it was you," he said in a whisper. He moved closer, and added in a low voice, "Me, I got the Minotaur."
He showed what he had in his hand. It was a bull's horn that looked like it had been ripped from the beast's skull.
"You don't mean the one from Theseus myth, do you?" Y/N said, amazed.
"I do," Percy said, grinning. "Apparently, monsters are never absolutely killed and always—how could you say that—respawn after a while. But we shouldn't talk about it. Annabeth told me that would only encourage people to challenge us, to see if we have guts. And Grover says it brings bad luck, talking about monsters."
Y/N had no idea who Annabeth and Grover were, but elected not to care. "Is there anyone I should know here?"
"I suppose you've already seen Chiron and Mr. D," Percy said. "There's also Luke, he's the counselor of the eleven. He's the one who told you to wait here. You'll see, he's cool. His father's Hermes."
Y/N looked around, watching the cabin a bit. "So all this Greek mythology stuff is real." He sighed.
"Yeah," Percy said, nodding. "This cabin is for Hermes's children and the undetermined, like you and me. Hermes isn't very picky about who he sponsors, he welcomes everyone since he's the god of travelers, of those who take the road and don't have a home."
"And how long do we stay here?" Y/N asked.
"That's the whole question." Luke appeared just next to Percy, crouching, a smile on his face. "Until you're determined."
"And how long does it take?" Y/N asked.
Luke's face suddenly darkened. For an instant, Y/N thought he wouldn't answer but he said, "Gods are busy. They've got plenty of kids and they're not always... Look, sometimes they don't care about us, Y/N. They ignore us."
Y/N looked around once more. He noticed teenagers who looked gloomy and—well, not really happy. They looked like waiting for a phone call that never came. He had known guys like that, at Champlain, who arrived there because they no longer had parents and the rest of the family never came to look for them. He also saw that a lot of campers in this cabin had similar features, a kind of sneaky look that always told teachers "I'm a troublemaker!"
"Otherwise," Luke said, turning to take something behind his back. "I found you a sleeping bag. And here is what you'll need to wash. You'll see, maybe you don't feel like you belong here yet, but you'll change your mind pretty quickly." He turned to Percy. "I let you show him the rest."
He smiled again and went away, disappearing between the other campers.
"So—" Y/N said. "What do we do now?"
"We wait for the meal," Percy said. "That's why everyone's waiting in here."
Suddenly a horn blew in the distance.
"Eleven, fall in!" Luke yelled across the cabin.
The whole cabin, about twenty people, filed into the common yard. They lined up in order of seniority, so Y/N was last, just behind Percy. Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for the three cabins at the end, and cabin eight, which strangely started to glow silver as the sun went down.
They marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined them from the meadow. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls came out of the woods—literally. Y/N saw a girl about nine or ten years old melt from the side of a maple tree and skipping up the hill.
In all, there were around a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads.
At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, yet cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. Y/N had to squeeze on to the edge of a bench with half his butt hanging off, facing Percy.
He spotted Ethan at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur.
After a while, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"
Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"
Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, barbecue. Y/N glass was empty, but Percy said, "Ask it whatever you want. Non-alcoholic, of course."
Y/N gave him his best puzzled look yet said, "Ice tea."
The glass filled with a dark amber liquid. Y/N took a sip. Perfect. It was deliciously sweet.
"Here you go, Y/N," Luke said, handing a platter of smoked brisket.
Y/N loaded his plate generously.
"Don't start eating yet," Percy said.
"Why?"
"There are still the offerings. Look."
Y/N turned to look at what Percy was pointing. Everyone, in turn, took a portion of their meal and threw it into the flames: the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of meat, the warmest, most buttery roll.
"Come on," Percy said.
Y/N followed him and wait in line.
"Why are we doing this?" Y/N asked.
"Gods like the smell," Percy said.
"They smell something up there?" Y/N pointed at the sky, doubt on his face.
"I dunno. Me too, it surprised me when Luke told me, but it must be true."
it was Percy's turn now. He threw a large bunch of grapes and seemed to meditate for a moment before heading back to the table. Y/N stepped forward and tossed his best chop into the fire with a little heartache—such a delicious piece wasted. He wondered whether to ask something to the gods or if it was rude. Well... enjoy.
When the smoke reached his nose, he didn't choke.
It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. He could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke.
Once everyone had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again.
Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."
A bunch of cheering rose from one of the tables.
"Children of Ares," Percy whispered. "Not convenient, you could say."
Y/N arched an eyebrow. "That is to say?"
"Well, sometimes, not to say all the time, they're like—the bully cliché," Percy replied. "Especially Clarisse."
Who was Clarisse, Y/N couldn't ask because Mr. D continued, "Personally, I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today—again." He sighed. "Y/N L/N. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."
Everybody cheered. They all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. They sang about the gods, ate s'mores, laughed, and joked. Y/N didn't feel anyone staring at him as if he was a stranger anymore. He was... at home.