Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
It had taken me a little while to realise that Riptide was no longer where it usually is; in my bra.
While Chiron led a lovely tour of the grounds, I was busy trailing a bit behind him doing a frantic slap down of myself that most know as the, 'Oh God, where the hell did I put my keys/wallet/phone?' patdown.
My increasing panic stopped cold when I realised that Riptide had not, in fact, disappeared- it was now resting as a pendant around my throat. Oh, so now it wants to transform into something I can carry without the bottomless pit called a 'man's pocket.' The little necklace seemed like something I would wear; a simple, black, leather cord with a metal dagger charm that looked like it had been dipped in blood. Cool, it looks like I stan Lady Macbeth.
Being mildly distracted as I am, I startled badly when we went past the volleyball pit and a ball went flying and rolled to a stop at my feet. Looking very cool, Ophelia, jumping three feet in the air like a surprised cartoon character; bet my face looked like a startled stoat too.
I bent down to pick the volleyball up and nearly flinched again when I saw one of the campers had approached while I wasn't looking. It was a boy, maybe 14 or 15, with some bright golden hair and muscles I knew most girls my age would swoon for. He looked like he was the personification of sunshine.
He smiled at me in a way that just confirmed my previous theory; sunshine. "Thanks for stopping the ball."
Now, most girls my physical age would blush and stutter and probably get an instant crush on Señor Sunshine over here. Me? I'm a twenty-year-old woman stuck in the body of a preteen; my thoughts are swinging wildly between 'gross, I'd be a paedophile' and 'gross, boys have cooties.' So no, I don't think my love life is going to be very interesting until I turn at least 18 again.
"Of course, here." I toss back the ball with a polite smile.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the end of the interaction. "I'm Lee Fletcher, son of Apollo. You're new aren't you?"
Chiron had stopped the tour and was looking at us with interest from somewhere ahead. Please interfere, I'm an introvert with a low grasp on socialisation rules. This is not my comfort zone. At all.
"Uh, yeah. I'm Percy Jackson." Introducing myself like that never gets old.
His smile managed to get even more blinding, "Nice to meet you! Are you claimed or undetermined?"
"Unclaimed." Please stop talking to me.
"Hope you get claimed soon! I'll see you around."
Oh, thank shit. "See you!" I gave an awkward wave to his retreating back. As you can see, interacting with other people 'my age' isn't all that far up on my 'To get better at' list.
Chiron waited for me to catch up again, "It's good to see that you're already making friends."
Huh? "It was just a greeting."
He just gave me a look that I'm quite used to from everyone; one that said 'You just misread/misunderstood a normal obvious human social interaction/rule.' Alas, curse my ADHD and Autism, nearly 33 years of living and I clearly still don't understand stuff like this.
Looking back at the farmhouse, it was a lot bigger than I'd realized- four stories tall -painted sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weathervane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.
The Oracle.
Fuck, I had forgotten that Miss-Creepy-Mummified-Oracle was just fucking wandering around. Bloody hell, Hades, can't you not take your anger out on innocent Oracles? I don't want to deal with that gross decaying corpse when I inevitably have to get a prophecy for a quest, nobody does!
"Come along, Percy," Chiron said, snapping me out of my internal monologue. "Lots to see."
We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.
Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."
He said Mr D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.
There's a satyr playing the flute in the field, little bugs are marching away from their tasty leafy snacks in time with the music. Cool, totally want that to keep spiders the fuck away from me, or maybe I could just straight-up set them on fire, that's good too.
"Will Grover be okay?" I ask Chiron out of the blue, interrupting him halfway through a sentence about strawberry importation. "He looked pretty nervous when he left with Mr D."
Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horseback like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."
"And he did that. I arrived without too many major injuries- he dragged me to safety."
"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate ... ah ... fate of your mother. Add the fact that you were unconscious and injured when he dragged you over the property line; The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."
I scowled. That's so stupid, he did way better than what I remember in canon. "I think he showed exceptional courage. Is there any way I can testify on his behalf?"
Chiron seemed taken aback by that for some reason, "I'm afraid not, they would not see you as an impartial judge on the situation."
"Then who does he have testifying on his behalf? Or is he single-handedly defending himself and his actions with nobody to verify or attest to them? That seems far more unjust." I point out.
"I'm sorry, Percy, but that's just how things are. Now let's move on, please."
Urgh! It's like he's purposely standing by as injustice happens without any attempt to help or defend the victims! Isn't this supposed to be America? Land of the Free and Just? What about the obvious Grecian influence too? The Greeks who invented democracy? This isn't right! Stop trying to just- brush all the flaws of the system under the rug! It's like he's purposely trying to encourage all the campers to wear rose-coloured glasses and just focus on the 'good' parts of being a demi-god...!
Oh.
That's... that's exactly what's happening.
Chiron had started walking away from me as if expecting me to forget what we were just talking about and continue with the tour. I eye his back with suspicion. Why are you just as indifferent as the gods to demi-god suffering? In fact, why are you influencing- no, manipulating demi-god's to think the status quo is the optimum solution when it's obviously not?
I think if I truly was a 12-year-old, I never would've noticed it- Hell! Even reading the books as an adult I barely picked up on it! Only living as Percy with an adult mind and an ability to recognise propaganda did I now notice it. And yet, a small part of my mind is still screaming that I'm just being paranoid. Oh shit, is this why it was mostly the older half-bloods that rebelled? Were they the only one's mature and critical enough to realise something's up?
Something is going on here, and I'm going to figure out what it is.
I catch up with him. Shoving this to the back of my mind and slapping some 'for later' tapes over it, I just act normal. This is a problem for Future Me, I'm too stressed to think logically right now.
As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.
Chiron said, "The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed."
"Stocked? Armed? With what?" I'm pretty sure my tone was sterner than I wanted it to be but you can't blame me; What the fuck is Chiron thinking to introduce me, to introduce anyone, to a supposedly new world like this?
"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"
"Shield?" Yep, totally didn't steal Riptide from you. Also, do I look like I'm capable of lifting a shield? With my noodle arms, I think the fuck not.
"No," Chiron mused. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size four will do. We'll visit the armoury later."
I wanted to ask why he was just straight up shoving me into the deep end and expecting me to swim in this completely new world and life, but I didn't. I just held back a sigh instead. There's already so much trouble with the unspoken communication and social interaction rules of the normal world I have to deal with; learning how to act in a new world is going to suck.
We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.
"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.
"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."
'Not lethal' say what? These are little kids! Half of them haven't even started puberty! What the fuck?
Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
"What do you do in winter?" I asked. "Won't it get too cold without any walls for insulation? And what about bugs? Mosquitoes?"
Chiron, helpful as always, just looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. "We still have to eat, don't we?" It was easier to simply drop the subject, so I did.
Wait, perfect weather. Forgot about that.
Finally, he showed me 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. They were also, without doubt, the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.
Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at.
They all faced a common area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops. Who designed that? If the ball went wide it could break a statue or damage the flowers. Did nobody remember they were designing this place for rambunctious teenagers?
In the centre of the field was a huge stone-lined fire pit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smouldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. Hestia. I made a mental note to say 'hi' and introduce myself to her some time today.
The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.
Wow. Zeus and Hera were so fucking pretentious. They decorated their cabins like a minimalist interior designer that I'd love to punch because they think adding one or two blue pillows to a disgustingly sterile-white house is 'adding a splash of colour.' It's so tacky.
I stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.
It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough grey stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.
I peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"
Before he could pull me back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down, but there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place was as sad as it was empty, but it so plainly felt like home to me.
Chiron put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy."
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
Number five was bright red- it had a real nasty paint job as if the colour had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me.
Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a large-sized Camp Half-Blood t-shirt under a camouflage jacket. Her glare zeroed in on me and gave an evil sneer. She reminded me of an old bully, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking. Stringy brown hair fell around her head like it couldn't decide where to go.
"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really ..."
He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."
"But, shouldn't you be dead?"
Chiron paused as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about 'should be.' The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, aeons 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."
I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. I loved teaching, I wanted to be one and influence the next generation for the better, but for so long?
"Doesn't it ever get monotonous?"
"I suppose," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never truly boring."
"Why depressing?"
Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.
"Oh, look," he said absently. "Annabeth is waiting for us."
Blondie from before was sitting and reading a book. This was Annabeth Chase, Hero and Architect of Olympus, not just some punk angsty twelve-year-old snot-nosed brat. Don't snark off at this one for being rude to you, Ophelia.
When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled. Still rude, great.
I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. For a second I thought I had hit my head hard enough when getting to Camp that I shook off several years of training to manage my dyslexia before I realised it wasn't in English. The book was in Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book. Knowing her, it probably was.
"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"
"Yes, sir."
"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."
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. Over the doorway was a caduceus. Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, 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 centre. This wasn't right.
Why haven't they built a second story? Or expanded the cabin? Made a second one just for minor gods children? Folks, we've seemed to have passed the unfortunate necessary side effect of being a half-blood called being a child soldier to straight-up child neglect. What the fuck?
Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him, but when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.
"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."
He galloped away toward the archery range.
I wanted for him to come straight back here so I could yell him out. This is not how you take care of children as their guardian. Truly, fuck you horse-man.
I turn back to the campers inside. They were no longer bowing and just staring at me expectantly. I resisted the urge to stare back. Consciously stopping myself from biting my lips, I gave an awkward wave of 'hello' to them and stepped inside.
Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven."
"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.
I was about to reply for myself but Annabeth said, "Undetermined." I glared at her.
Everybody groaned.
A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy."
I stared at him. Luke. The guy whose life I'm going to try and save. Oh shoot, I should make a good first impression. He's my soulmate according to the Fates for Olympus' sake!
Instead, what came out of my mouth was, "An adult!"
Luke looked taken aback.
Fucking hell, Ophelia, you are an idiot of epic proportions. Save the situation, you idiot!
"Nobody's explained what's going on, to me, at all!" Ah-ha! Indignation, anger and confusion. A perfect excuse and a reason to rant. "I mean, I have no idea what's happening and what this place is, and the only adults I've seen so far have been Chiron and Mr D who haven't answered any of my questions and didn't let me even watch the orientation video!" I was visibly frustrated with my circumstances, which also wasn't a total lie. Not knowing all the variables to a situation makes me antsy.
A flash of annoyance and anger appeared on the 19-year-old's face before melting into one of kindness and sympathy. Actually, the entire cabin seemed to be looking at me with a mixture of shock and sympathy. Whoops, maybe I should wait until there's nobody around next time.
"Hey it's okay," the blonde soothed, "I'm Luke, the councillor for this cabin. Don't worry, I'll explain everything to you."
This was the cue for the rest of the cabin to introduce themselves apparently. I got a loud, clumsy chorus of "I'm Chris/Travis/Conner/Alabaster/Dana/Lilith/Ari/Kassandri," and many more names I didn't pick up on.
I blinked. "Uh, hi? I'm Persephone, but call me Percy."
I was silently digging my nails into my other wrist under my jacket. Too many people, too many people, too many people! Please get me out of here!
Luke was nice enough to come to my rescue. "Come on, I'll join your tour with Annabeth. I can explain some things on the way."
We walked out and I noticed that Annabeth was both blushing and glaring at me. Oh right, I forgot she had a crush on Luke, which was a bit weird. Didn't she have any other positive interactions with older males to crush on?
"Come on." She grabbed my wrist and dragged me away.
I nearly yelled at her for touching me so abruptly without asking but she let go quickly enough that all I did was cradle the violated limb with a glare.
When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."
"What are you talking about?"
She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."
"What's your problem?" I was getting angry now. Why was she so rude?
"All I know is, I kill some monster-"
"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"
"To get killed?"
"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"
"Annabeth! Stop it!" Luke stepped in, actually looking upset. "She has no idea what is going on and I expected more from you! You should be more than wise enough to realise that you're being rude. Stop it with this quest obsession of yours, Thalia and I raised you better than this!"
Holy shit. I felt like an intruder but I couldn't seem to look away from this trainwreck. It was always heavily implied in the books that there was a slight rift between Luke and Annabeth before he betrayed the gods- but I didn't expect it to be this bad! Bringing up Thalia? I have work cut out for me if I'm to stop him from going all Sith before the summer ends.
Annabeth looked cowed, her face bright red.
Luke turned back to me, "I'm sorry about that, Percy. Come on, let's get going."
I nodded quickly. Yeah, please move on, I don't wanna be in the middle of your personal argument.
I only got a few steps before I remembered, "Uh, Luke, how was it that I fought a mythological monster that was supposed to be dead?"
He gave me an encouraging smile at me before explaining, "Monsters don't stay dead, they disappear and reform in a pit called Tartarus. They eventually make their way back up to the surface for us demi-gods to fight all over again."
"An ugly cycle."
There was bitterness on his face. "Yeah, yeah it is." The words are said quietly, but it was anything but a soft thing to know.
I quickly moved on and asked more questions. Luke was a good teacher and explained everything really well, but I do suppose he's had the practice considering he was the cabin counsellor for cabin 11. I'm also happy that at least my more simple questions are being answered by someone other than Mr 'Ignore-all-my-questions' Centaur.
Everything was going well until the Fire Nation attacked. Well, not the Fire Nation, but someone from the Ares cabin.
A husky voice yelled out, "Well! A newbie!"
I looked over. The girl from the ugly red cabin who had sneered at me earlier was sauntering towards us.
"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"
"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."
''Erre es korakas!" Annabeth spat, which I roughly understood was Greek for 'Go to the crows!' I'm pretty sure it was a worse curse than it sounded. "You don't stand a chance."
"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eyes twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat.
She turned toward me. "Who's this little runt?"
"Percy Jackson," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."
"I can introduce myself. Percy Jackson, nice to meet you." I offered her a wave but I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't be as friendly.
Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."
"Percy," I corrected.
"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."
"Clarisse-" Annabeth tried to say.
"Stay out of it, wise girl."
Wow, she's pretty rude. At least she's giving Annabeth a taste of her own medicine.
I was mildly indifferent to her right up to her grabbing me in a headlock.
Now, you might be thinking 'oh, you don't like her because she is hurting you.' You're wrong. I don't like her because she's touching me. I may be a very affectionate and tactile person, but touch me without consent? Especially in a moment where I'm already super stressed? One full Autistic meltdown, coming up.
I barely registered that she was dragging me towards the bathroom.
I started to scream. Full-blown, screaming and raging- yelling like I was getting murdered with a blunt knife. Kicking, punching, wriggling like an eel, I struggled. Tears began building up in my eyes.
No. No. No! Too much, too much! Weird, foreign, not right! Off, off, OFF!
The last thing I registered was Clarisse's whisper of "What the-?" and Luke's continuous commands for Clarrise to, "Let her go!"
I exploded after that.
Or, well, the bathroom exploded. Water went everywhere, all but drowning Clarisse as it wrenched her away from me. A soaked Annabeth silently stood to the side, not interfering. Luke and I were the only ones present left untouched by the toilet water.
I was sitting in a heap on the ground, silently sobbing. I rocked back and forth slightly, stimming, as I tried desperately to compose myself before anyone else saw me.
Luke approached me with his hands up, calm as a cucumber as he tried to be as non-threatening as possible. "Percy, shush, it's okay. You're at Camp Half-Blood remember? It's just me, Luke. Can you calm down for me please?"
I was barely able to gasp out, "Autistic... meltdown... Grover, please... Mãe..."
"Okay, it's okay. I won't touch you. Shush, I got you. You're okay."
I kept whimpering but started to calm down. My breaths were still bursting out in short pants, but my head seemed to be screwing back on fast enough.
Luke was kneeling in front of me. "You okay now?"
I nod dully and he continues, "Do you want to go to the infirmary or go out of sight?"
A choice. I hate choices likes this one. I also hate people seeing me like this even though logically I knew that I should go to the infirmary.
"Out of sight."
He smiled reassuringly at me even though I could tell his eyes weren't in it. One outstretched hand beckoned me. "Can I touch you?"
I mulled that over for a few seconds before reaching out and grabbing his hand. He hauled me to my feet and started directing me away from the flooded mess formerly called the bathroom and towards the woods.
We were walking away when he swiftly twirled around and pinned Annabeth and Clarisse with a chilling glare. "I expect you both to clean this up, and I'll be discussing your punishment with Chiron. What you two did was unacceptable. We are half-bloods- a family. We help each other, not tear each other down. Outside of Camp, people's lives will depend on teamwork. If you can't understand this then you are not ready to leave Camp."
I flinched at his voice- too loud- before continuing on my path to get away from any prying eyes. I could tell from the corner of my eye that both girls looked embarrassed and guilty. I don't pity them; they brought this on themselves.
The woods were beautiful, as expected of a place tended to by nature spirits. I could tell the stream running off in the distance was pure- pure enough for life to flourish. Everything was blessedly cool and empty, almost serene for a world teetering on wilderness. So the question was, why did I feel like I was forgetting something...?
Forever and a second had gone by when I realised I was alone in the woods with Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, Traitor to the Olympians.
Oh fuck. Why me?