Y/N hadn't realized it until the very end of last summer, but since Chiron had adopted him, he was a permanent camper. Since September, he went to the same school as Percy in New York. Each morning Argus drove him there—same thing the other way round once class ended. It was very strange not to be at Champlain anymore.
But all of this didn't matter this Friday before winter break.
At the end of the day, it wasn't Argus that picked up Y/N, but Percy's mom. She was very nice. She had already invited him over a couple of times, and he always left with lots of cookies—all blue, the way she always did; weird but super tasty.
She had packed Y/N and Percy overnight bags and a few deadly weapons. They picked up Annabeth and Thalia on the way.
It was an eight-hour drive from New York to Bar Harbor, Maine. Sleet and snow pounded the highway. Y/N and Percy hadn't seen Annabeth and Thalia in months, but between the blizzard and the thought of what they were about to do, they were too nervous to talk much. Except for Percy's mom. By the time they finally got to Westover Hall, it was getting dark, and she'd told Y/N (sitting at the front with her) every embarrassing baby story there was to tell about Percy—like, how cute he looked in the bathtub when he was three years old.
Thalia wiped the fog off the car window and peered outside. "Oh, yeah. This'll be fun."
Westover Hall looked like an evil knight's castle. It was all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. It stood on a snowy cliff overlooking a big frosty forest on one side and the gray churning ocean on the other.
"Are you sure you don't want me to wait?" Ms. Jackson asked.
"No, thanks, Mom," Percy said. "I don't know how long it will take. We'll be okay."
"But how will you get back? I'm worried, Percy."
Honestly, it was funny to see Percy's embarrassment. Y/N understood him—you wouldn't think a hero would depend on his mom to drive him to his battles.
"It's okay, Ms. Jackson." Y/N smiled. "But I think it'll take us quite some time. Better if you head back to New York now, or you'll never be there by tomorrow."
Ms. Jackson tugged his cheek. "Y/N, I already told you to call me Sally."
"Er . . . yes, Ms.—I mean, Sally."
"Don't worry," Annabeth told Ms. Jackson. "We'll keep them out of trouble."
Ms. Jackson seemed to relax. She thought Annabeth was the most levelheaded demigod ever to hit eighth grade. She was sure Annabeth often kept her son and Y/N from getting killed. Maybe she was right.
"All right, dears," Ms. Jackson said. "Do you have everything you need?"
"Yes, Ms. Jackson," Thalia said. "Thanks for the ride."
"Extra sweaters? You have my cell phone number?"
"Mom—" Percy grumbled.
"Your ambrosia and nectar, Percy? And a golden drachma in case you need to contact camp?"
"Mom, seriously! We'll be fine. Come on, guys."
"Goodbye, Ms—um, Sally." Y/N got out of the car.
The wind blew straight through his coat like ice daggers.
Once Percy's mom's car was out of sight, Thalia said, "Your mom is so cool, Percy."
"She's pretty okay," Percy admitted.
"Real talent for blue cookies." Y/N bit one. "And telling baby Percy's stories." Percy reddened, which would have made him laugh any moment if they weren't facing that evil castle.
"Let's go," Thalia said.
"At your command, Little Zeus."
As soon as Y/N said it, he knew he shouldn't have. Thalia was great at giving evil looks, what with the punk clothes she always wears—the ripped-up army jacket, black leather pants and chain jewelry, the black eyeliner, and those electric blue eyes. But the look she gave him now was a perfect evil "ten."
Luckily, before Thalia could open her mouth, Annabeth said, "We'd better get inside. Grover will be waiting."
Thalia looked at the castle and shivered. "You're right. I wonder what he found here that made him send the distress call."
"Nothing good," Percy guessed.
The oak doors groaned open, and the four of them stepped into the entry hall in a swirl of snow.
All Y/N could think of was, Whoa.
The place was huge. The walls were lined with battle flags and weapon displays: antique rifles, battle axes, and a bunch of other stuff. Westover was a military school and all, but the decorations seemed like overkill. Literally.
He rubbed his finger, feeling the peacocks engraved on his golden ring. He could already sense the wrong vibes of this place. Something dangerous. Percy had his hand in his pocket, where he kept Riptide, his lethal ballpoint pen. Thalia was rubbing her silver bracelet, her favorite magic item. A fight was definitely coming.
Annabeth started to say, "I wonder where—"
The doors slammed shut behind them.
"Oo-kay," Percy mumbled. "Guess we'll stay a while."
Y/N could hear music echoing from the other end of the hall. It sounded like dance music.
They stashed their overnight bags behind a pillar and started down the hall. They hadn't gone very far when footsteps clopped on the stone floor, and a man and woman marched out of the shadows to intercept them.
They both had short gray hair and black military-style uniforms with red trim. The woman had a wispy mustache, and the guy was clean-shaven, which seemed kind of backward. They both walked stiffly, as if they had broomsticks taped to their spines.
"Well?" the woman demanded. "What are you doing here?"
Y/N realized it would've been a good idea to plan this part. They had been so focused on getting to Grover and finding out what was wrong, they hadn't considered that someone might question four kids sneaking into the school at night. They hadn't talked at all in the car about how they would get inside. He said, "Ma'am, we're just—"
"Ha!" the man snapped. "Visitors are not allowed at the dance! You shall be eee-jected!"
He had an accent—French, maybe. He pronounced his J like in Jacques. He was tall, with a hawkish face. His nostrils flared when he spoke, which made it really hard not to stare up his nose, and his eyes were two different colors—one brown, one blue—like an alley cat's.
Y/N figured the man was about to toss them into the snow, but then Thalia stepped forward and did something very weird.
She napped her fingers. The sound was sharp and loud. Maybe it was just Y/N's imagination, but he felt a gust of wind ripple out from her hand, across the room. It washed over all of them, making the banners rustle on the walls.
"Oh, but we're not visitors, sir," Thalia said. "We go to school here. You remember: I'm Thalia. And this is Annabeth, Y/N, and Percy. We're in the eighth grade."
The male teacher narrowed his two-colored eyes. What was Thalia thinking? Now they'd probably get punished for lying and thrown into the snow. But the man seemed to be hesitating.
He looked at his colleague. "Ms. Gottschalk, do you know these students?"
Despite the danger they were in, Y/N had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. A teacher named Got Chalk? That man had to be kidding.
The woman blinked, as if someone had just woken her up from a trance. "I . . . yes. I believe I do, sir." She frowned at them. "Annabeth. Thalia. Y/N. Percy. What are you doing away from the gymnasium?"
Before they could answer, more footsteps came, and Grover ran up, breathless. "You made it! You—"
He stopped short when he saw the teachers. "Oh, Mrs. Gottschalk. Dr. Thorn! I, uh—"
"What is it, Mr. Underwood?" the man said. His tone made it clear that he detested Grover. "What do you mean, they made it? These students live here."
Grover swallowed. "Yes, sir. Of course, Dr. Thorn. I just meant, I'm so glad they made . . . the punch for the dance! The punch is great. And they made it!"
Dr. Thorn glared at them. One of his eyes is fake, Y/N thought. The brown or the blue one? He looked like he wanted to pitch them off the castle's highest tower, but then Mrs. Gottschalk said dreamily, "Yes, the punch is excellent. Now run along, all of you. You are not to leave the gymnasium again!"
They needn't be told twice. They left with a lot of "Yes, ma'ams" and "Yes, sirs" and a couple of salutes, just because it seemed the thing to do.
Grover hustled them down the hall in the direction of the music.
Y/N could still feel the teachers' eyes on his back, but he walked closely to Thalia and asked in a low voice, "How did you do that finger-snap thing?"
"You mean the Mist? Hasn't Chiron shown you how to do that yet?"
No, Chiron hadn't. Why has he shown Thalia and not me? Y/N thought.
He would never have admitted it, but he was jealous of Thalia. The worst was maybe that he didn't even know why. In a lot of ways she was similar to Percy, so it should've matched between them. It didn't. He figured it must be something coming from his mother, Hera—disliking what comes from Zeus.
Grover hurried them to a door that had GYM written on the glass. Even with his dyslexia, Y/N could read that much.
"That was close!" Grover said. "Thank the gods you got here!"
Annabeth and Thalia both hugged Grover. Y/N and Percy gave him high fives.
It was good to see him after so many months. He'd gotten a little taller and had sprouted a few more whiskers, but otherwise he looked like he always did when he passed for human—a red cap on his curly brown hair to hide his goat horns, baggy jeans and sneakers with fake feet to hide his furry legs and hooves. He was wearing a black T-shirt that read WESTOVER HALL: GRUNT. Was it something like Grover's rank or just the school motto?
"So what's the emergency?" Percy asked.
Grover took a deep breath. "I found two."
"Two half-bloods?" Thalia asked, amazed. "Here?"
Grover nodded.
Finding one half-blood was rare enough. This year, Chiron had put the satyrs on emergency overtime and sent them all over the country, scouring schools from fourth grade through high school for possible recruits. These were desperate times. They were losing campers. They needed all the new fighters they could find. The problem was, there just weren't that many demigods out there.
"A brother and a sister," Grover said. "They're ten and twelve. I don't know their parentage, but they're strong. We're running out of time, though. I need help."
"Monsters?" Y/N asked.
"One." Grover looked nervous. "He suspects. I don't think he's positive yet, but this is the last day of term. I'm sure he won't let them leave campus without finding out. It may be our last chance! Every time I try to get close to them, he's always there, blocking me. I don't know what to do!"
Grover looked at Thalia desperately. Y/N gritted his teeth. No reason to be upset. Thalia had seniority. Not just because her dad was Zeus. Thalia had more experience than any of them with fending off monsters in the real world.
"Right," she said. "These half-bloods are at the dance?"
Grover nodded.
"Then let's dance," Thalia said. "Who's the monster?"
"Oh," Grover said, and looked around nervously. "You just met him. The vice principal, Dr. Thorn."
Weird thing about military schools: the kids go absolutely nuts when there's a special event and they get to be out of uniform. Surely because everything's strict the rest of the time, they feel like they've got to overcompensate or something.
There were black and red balloons all over the gym floor, and guys were kicking them in each other's faces, or trying to strangle each other with the crepe-paper streamers taped to the walls. Girls moved around in football huddles, the way they always do, wearing lots of makeup and spaghetti-strap tops and brightly colored pants and shoes that looked like torture devices. Every once in a while they'd surround some poor guy like a pack of piranhas, shrieking and giggling, and when they finally moved on, the guy would have ribbons in his hair and a bunch of lipstick graffiti all over his face.
"There they are." Grover nodded toward a couple of younger kids arguing in the bleachers. "Bianca and Nico di Angelo."
The girl wore a floppy green cap, as if she were trying to hide her face. The boy was obviously her little brother. They both had dark silky hair, and they used their hands a lot as they talked. The boy was shuffling some kind of trading cards. His sister seemed to be scolding him about something. She kept looking around as though she sensed something was wrong.
Annabeth said, "Do they . . . I mean, have you told them?"
Grover shook his head. "You know how it is. That could put them in more danger. Once they realize who they are, their scent becomes stronger."
As a half-blood, the more powerful you became, the more you smelled like a monster's lunch. Y/N couldn't stop wondering how he smelled. Even more so with all that had happened in the last year and a half.
"So let's grab them and get out of here," Percy said.
He started forward, but Y/N put a hand on his shoulder. The vice principal, Dr. Thorn, had slipped out of a doorway near the bleachers and was standing near the di Angelo siblings. He nodded coldly in their direction. His blue eye seemed to glow.
Judging from his expression, Thorn hadn't been fooled by Thalia's trick with the Mist after all. He suspected who they were. He was just waiting to see why they were here.
"Don't look at the kids," Thalia ordered. "We have to wait for a chance to get them. We need to pretend we're not interested in them. Throw him off the scent."
"How?" Y/N asked. He bit his tongue. Gods, how he disliked having to ask her what to do.
"We're four powerful half-bloods," Thalia said. "Our presence should confuse him. Mingle. Act natural. Do some dancing. But keep an eye on those kids."
"Dancing?" Annabeth asked.
Thalia nodded. She cocked her ear to the music and made a face. "Ugh. Who chose the Jesse McCartney?"
Grover looked hurt. "I did."
"Oh my gods, Grover. That is so lame. Can't you play, like, Green Day or something?"
"Green who?"
"Never mind. Let's dance."
"But I can't dance!"
"You can if I'm leading," Thalia said. "Come on, goat boy."
Grover yelped as Thalia grabbed his hand and led him onto the dance floor.
Annabeth smiled.
"What?" Y/N asked.
"Nothing. It's just cool to have Thalia back."
Annabeth had always been about the same height as Y/N, but now she was taller—strange. She used to wear no jewelry except for her Camp Half-Blood bead necklace, but now she wore little silver earrings shaped like owls—the symbol of her mother, Athena. She pulled off her ski cap, and her long blond hair tumbled down her shoulder. He didn't know why, but it made her look older.
"So. . . ." He tried to find some topic to talk about. "Um, you design any good buildings lately?"
Annabeth's eyes lit up, the way they always did when she talked about architecture. "Oh my gods, Y/N. At my new school, I get to take 3-D design as an elective, and there's this cool computer program. . . ."
She went on to explain how she'd designed this huge monument that she wanted to build at Ground Zero in Manhattan. She talked about structural supports and facades and stuff, and he tried to listen. He knew she wanted to be a super architect when she grew up—she loves math and historical buildings and all that—but if she asked, he would've had to admit he hardly understood a word she was saying.
The truth was he was kind of disappointed to hear that she liked her new school so much. They both were going to school in New York, yet they had barely seen each other last months. Annabeth and Thalia attended a boarding school in Brooklyn, close enough to Camp Half-Blood that Chiron could help if they got in any trouble. Because it was an all-girls school, and Y/N went to MS-54 in Manhattan with Percy—Chiron said it was safe enough with the two of them if ever any monster wanted to attack—they hardly ever saw one another.
Y/N said, "So you're planning to stay there the rest of the year?"
Annabeth's face got dark. "Well, maybe, if I don't—"
"Hey!" It was Thalia. She was slow dancing with Grover, who was tripping all over himself, kicking Thalia in the shins, and looking like he wanted to die. At least his feet were fake—he had an excuse for being clumsy.
"Dance, you guys!" Thalia ordered. "You look stupid just standing there."
Y/N glanced around. Of course, Percy had disappeared. Oh, no, there he was, playing basketball in a corner with some other boys. Joining him was a very tempting idea.
Y/N didn't like dancing. Once at the orphanage, during some summer holidays, there had been some lessons of it. He would have gone very well without them.
He looked nervously at Annabeth. "I guess I should ask you, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Bovine Eyes."
"Thought so."
So they went onto the dance floor. For a second, Y/N scrolled through his memories to find some remainders of that afternoon they did slow dancing at Champlain—he could only remember Ethan falling face flat on the floor as he tried to mirror the others but with crutches.
Before he could do anything, Annabeth clasped one of his hands and put the other on her hip. "I'm not going to bite you. Honestly, Y/N. Don't you guys have dances at your school?"
"Oh yes," he said, "but I don't dance at them."
They turned around for a few minutes. Y/N tried to concentrate on little things, like the crepe-paper streamers and the punch bowl—anything but the fact Annabeth was taller than him, and his hands were clammy.
"What were you saying earlier?" he asked. "Are you having trouble at school or something?"
She pursed her lips. "It's not that. It's my dad."
"Uh-oh." Annabeth's rocky relationship with her father joined in. "I thought it was getting better with you two. Is it your stepmom again?"
Annabeth sighed. "He decided to move. Just when I was getting settled in New York, he took this stupid new job researching for a World War I book. In San Francisco."
She said this the same way she might have said Fields of Punishment or Hades's gym shorts.
"So he wants you to move out there with him?" Y/N asked.
"To the other side of the country," she said miserably. "And half-bloods can't live in San Francisco. He should know that."
"What? Why not?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes. Maybe she thought he was kidding. "You know. It's right there."
"Oh," he said. He had no idea what she was talking about. "So . . . you'll go back living at camp or what?"
"It's more serious than that, Y/N. I . . . I probably should tell you something."
Suddenly she froze. "They're gone."
"What?"
Y/N followed her gaze. The bleachers. The two half-bloods kids, Bianca and Nico, were no longer there. The door next to the bleachers was wide open. No sign of Percy playing basketball in the corner. Dr. Thorn was nowhere in sight.