"𝚟𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚗" | 𝚙. 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

We Capture A Flag

OR

Hey, What's With the Maiming? It's the Only Rule!

third person omniscient

-

"OW." STELLE MUTTERED as she got spiked in the face for the nth time. She wasn't bad at volleyball, just... much worse than Ethan. The guy was a demon, with a whip-fast spike.

Ethan smirked at her from the other side of the net, getting a weak glare from the other girl. "You tricked me into this." She muttered, kicking the sand.

By the time they finished playing, the other Hermes kids were off to their morning classes, all of them heading the same direction. Ethan, however, stuck behind. He put his hand on Stelle's shoulder and patted it awkwardly.

"Thanks for playing. I had fun."

'I didn't.' She thought.

"Sure, anytime." She lied through her teeth. She'd suffer the consequences later. Now Stelle was the only Stelle that really mattered.

"I appreciate that." Ethan said, "I'll see you around?" He eyes flicked to the departing Hermes cabin that trekked through the grassy plains. He was going to be late.

"Yeah, see you."

All in all, Stelle quite liked camp. She had made a few friends, had yet to be bored, and ate well. The view was always nice and she learned basic skills.

One thing she was off-put about was Luke. When he whispered, he aimed for the heart, not for the ear. When he smiled, he aimed for the soul, not for the eyes. She couldn't place it, but he was trying to be in control, every time.

He acted like a puppet master, though spoke like a puppet. This boy was no doll. This boy was a playmate.

A good one or a bad one, she would have to see.

The next few days, she and Percy had settled into a somewhat natural schedule (as normal as it could be, anyways). Each morning, they'd take Ancient Greek and Latin from Annabeth, which often times turned into a 'swearing in foreign languages' class.

"What the fuck do you mean by 'futuere, caput stercoris'?!" Stelle demanded, throwing a pencil across the room.

"It's a phrase for only the finest of warriors!" Percy said indignantly.

Annabeth frowned. "It's a little crude, but I think he said 'get fucked, shithead'."

Stelle banged her fist on the table. "C'est des connenes! That's bullshit! You're a moron, Percy!"

Percy kicked her chair, which only made him go backwards. The leg caught the floor, excess force making his chair tip over.

"Faex!"

Annabeth's eyes lit up. "Yes! Thank you! You finally got a word right."

"You know what? I hate all of you." He decided from his spot from the floor, staring up at the ceiling with a resigned expression.

Right, Ancient Greek and Latin wasn't too bad. At least they were learning something useful. Percy could even stumble through a few lines of Homer!

The rest of the day, they'd rotate through outdoor activities, trying to figure out what they were good at. Chiron tried to teach them archery, but Percy found out pretty quick that he was no good at it. Stelle wasn't half-bad after a little practice, but definitely not a prodigy.

"You'll get it, chouchou." She told him, after dodging an arrow (how did it go backwards?).

At least Chiron didn't complain, not even after he got a stray arrow stuck in his tail. It was a pain to desnag it, but with Stelle's help, they managed fairly quickly.

"He's got a very silky tail." She told him.

"O...kay, then..."

Foot racing? No good either. The wood-nymph instructors left Percy in the dust. Stelle was the fastest runner at Yancy and still couldn't outrun the dryads. They told them not to worry about it. They had centuries of practice from lovesick gods. 

Stelle glanced at a laurel tree, decorated with bouquets and flowers and paintings,

"Hey, whatcha lookin' at?" One of the instructors looked around, before her eyes fell on the laurel tree. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" Stelle asked.

The instructor looked around worriedly, as if afraid one of the others might overhear. She had pretty hazel skin (she was a hazel tree...so... obviously), and green hair that looked suspiciously of leaves and branches.

"Er... that laurel tree, she hasn't been seen around since I was here anyways. The tree is still alive and all, so the nymph inside must be... but she's just not here."

"Why, is it like Daphne or something?"

The instructor did a double take and a tint of green entered her face. "Don't say that name..!"

'Huh. Was Daphne some sort of ghost story to them?'

But the nymph looked wistful and envious. "You know what I heard about her? I hear that she had rivers underneath her skin and the moon in her eyes. I heard her steps were dances and her laughs were just... beautiful."

"Wow." Stelle said flatly, unimpressed. "But she's a tree."

"Uhm, I'm a tree."

"Oh, right. Whoops."

Moving on to wrestling, forget it. Every time Percy stepped onto the mat, Clarisse pulverized him. While Clarisse did go easier on Stelle, she still got roughed up pretty bad.

"There's more where that came from, punk." Clarisse would mumble in Percy's ear.

The only thing Percy excelled at was canoeing, which wasn't exactly the heroic skill people had expected to see from a kid who beat the Minotaur. Stelle sucked at canoeing, which was expected, but it still irked her to be worse than Percy at something.

"It's embarrassing, honestly."

"Hey!"

Percy knew the senior campers and counselors were watching them, trying to decide who their godly parent was, but they weren't having an easy time of it. Percy wasn't as strong as the Ares kids, or as good at archery as the Apollo kids.

He didn't have Hephaestus's skill with metalwork or- gods forbid- Dionysus's way with vine plants. Luke told him he might be a child of Hermes, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But Percy got the feeling he was just trying to make me feel better. He really didn't know what to make of him either. 

With Stelle's bet, most people had narrowed it down to two Olympians. Athena or Aphrodite. Ethan himself was more partial to Nike, having jokingly said that she was a winner. When asked to bet, Percy had chosen Aphrodite.

He had no answer other than that she wasn't ugly, which caused a little bit of teasing.

Despite all that, Percy liked camp. He got used to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night. He would eat dinner with cabin eleven, scrape part of my meal into the fire, and try to feel some connection to his real dad.

Nothing came. Just that warm feeling he'd always had, like the memory of his smile. Percy tried not to think too much about my mom, but he kept wondering: if gods and monsters were real, if all this magical stuff was possible, surely there was some way to save her, to bring her back.... 

Percy started to understand Luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, Hermes. So okay, maybe gods had important things to do.

But couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder, or something? Dionysus could make Diet Coke appear out of thin air. Why couldn't his dad, whoever he was, make a phone appear? 

Thursday afternoon, three days after they'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, they had their first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be their instructor.

They started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. Percy guessed he did okay. At least, he understood what he was supposed to do and his reflexes were good. 

Stelle was decent as well. She was usually quick, but said that she preferred power over speed in terms of swordsmanship.

The problem was, Percy couldn't find a blade that felt right in his hands. Either they were too heavy, or too light, or too long. Luke tried his best to fix him up, but he agreed that none of the practice blades seemed to work for him. 

Stelle faced something similar, but that wasn't her problem exactly.

"Hey, Luke, do you have something... heavier? Possibly two-handed?"

"Two-handed, huh? Here." He passed her a two-handed sword, but it was still too... something. She didn't know what she was looking for, only what felt right. They flipped through heavier weapons, but couldn't get her the right weapon either.

"This'll do then." She picked up one of the previous two-handed swords, but it still didn't feel quite correct.

They moved on to dueling in pairs. Luke announced he would be his partner, since this was his first time. Ethan paired up with Stelle, looking quite pleased.

"Good luck." One of the campers told Percy, "Luke's the best swordsman in a hundred years."

"Maybe he'll go easy on me." Percy had said doubtfully.

The camper snorted.

Luke showed Percy thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way. With every swipe, he got a little more battered and bruised. "Keep your guard up, Percy!" he'd say, then whap him in the ribs with the flat of his blade. "Not that far up!" Whap! "Lunge!" Whap! "Now, back!" Whap! 

Ethan, however, was going easy on Stelle. He smiled good-naturedly and showed her the correct way to go about attacking and defending. He seemed to get a kick out of being somewhat of a mentor.

"Here, like that." Ethan would adjust her sword, then defend accordingly. Sometimes, he would attack slowly so Stelle could think of her own way to counter. "That's it, very good." She tried to get on his blind spot, but he defended expertly with practiced and fluid movement.

When a hit landed on her, it was more of a tap. If it wasn't, it was an accident. "Careful, you could've died about... thirty-six times. I saw too many openings." He advised, tapping her left abdomen with the flat of his sword.

By the time Luke called a break, Percy was soaked in sweat. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke poured ice water on his head, which looked like such a good idea, Percy did the same.

Instantly, he felt better. Strength surged back into his arms. The sword didn't feel so awkward. 

"I'm not lending you money to buy another shirt. And I'm not doing your laundry either." Stelle said immediately, making Percy frown.

"Awh."

"Okay, circle up, shitheads!" Luke ordered, "If Percy doesn't mind, who am I kidding, he doesn't have a choice. Percy, c'mere, I'm using you for a little demo."

'Great', Percy thought. 'Let's all watch Percy get pounded.'

The Hermes guys gathered around. They were suppressing smiles. Percy figured they'd been in his shoes before and couldn't wait to see how Luke used him for a punching bag.

He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon. 

Percy glared in particular at Ethan, who had his arm resting on Stelle's shoulder and was not squashing his smile. His eye was dark flint that were filled with a condescending amusement.

Stelle was giving him a neutral, controlled look, but even the corner of her lip twitched. He took that as a sign that he was absolutely fucked.

"This is difficult." He stressed, "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."

He demonstrated the move on Percy in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of his hand.

"Now in real time." He said after Percy had retrieved his weapon, "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?"

He nodded, and Luke came after him. Somehow, he kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of his sword. His senses opened up. Percy saw his attacks coming. He countered. Percy stepped forward and tried a thrust of his own.

Luke deflected it easily, but Stelle saw a change in his face. His eyes narrowed, and he started to press with more force. 

Ethan's smile dissipated into a serious look. He pressed his lips into a line and watched.

The sword grew heavy in my hand. The balance wasn't right. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took him down, so Percy figured, 'What the heck?'

He tried the disarming maneuver.

Ethan straightened, taking his arm off of Stelle's shoulder, leaning forward a bit.

Percy's blade hit the base of Luke's and he twisted, putting his whole weight into a downward thrust. 

Clang.

"Well, shit." Stelle gaped.

"Double shit." Ethan said.

The other campers were silent.

Percy lowered his sword, shuffling awkwardly. "Uh, sorry."

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak. "Sorry?" His scarred face broke into a grin. "By the gods, Percy, why are you sorry? Show me that again!"

He didn't want to. The short burst of manic energy had completely abandoned him. But Luke insisted. This time, it was no contest. The moment their swords made contact, Luke had hit his hilt and sent Percy's weapon skidding to the floor.

After a long pause, somebody in the audience said, "Beginner's luck?"

Stelle was impressed nonetheless. Even beginner's luck had some merit.

Luke wiped the sweat off his brow. He appraised at Percy with an entirely new interest, one that made Stelle's hair stand on end. "Maybe. But I wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword..."

Friday afternoon, they were sitting with Grover at the lake after a near-death experience with the climbing wall.

"Fuuuuuck!" Percy screamed, lava pouring down a section of his wall.

"Move it, move it!" Stelle yelped from beside him, swinging to avoid the lava. Percy wasn't as quick, and the lava nearly got him. It singed his hair and created burning holes in his shirt.

"Please, Stelle, buy me a new shirt?!" He yelled, groaning.

"No!"

Grover had scampered to the top like a mountain goat, standing a tad too leisurely while watching his two best friends scream at the patented wall of death.

They sat on the pier, watching the naiads do underwater basket-weaving (Stelle had joined them), until Percy got up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D. 

Grover's face turned a sickly shade of yellow.

"Fine. Just great."

"So, your career is still on track?" Stelle said, weaving small flowers into her basket while she worked on the main structure. She hardly looked up.

Grover glanced at her nervously, stamping his feet. "C-Chiron told you guys that I want a searcher's license?"

"Well... no." Percy had no idea what a searcher's license was, but it didn't seem like the right time to ask. "He just said you had big plans, you know... and that you needed credit for completing a keeper's assignment. So did you get it?"

Grover looked down at the naiads. "Mr. D suspended judgment. He said I hadn't failed or succeeded with you yet, so our fates were still tied together. If one of you got a quest and I went along to protect you, and we both came back alive, then maybe he'd consider the job complete."

Percy's spirits lifted. "Well, that's not so bad, right?"

"Blaa-ha-ha! He might as well have transferred me to stable-cleaning duty. The chances of either of you getting a quest... and even if you two did, why would you want me along?"

"Of course we'd want you along." Stelle said placentally.

Grover stared glumly at her. "Basket-weaving... must be nice to have a useful skill."

Stelle blinked at him and stopped weaving. "Are you guilt-tripping me? Stop early."

Grover's face turned ashen and opened his mouth to apologize or something before Percy grabbed his attention. Percy tried to reassure him that he had lots of talents, but that just made him look more miserable.

They talked about canoeing and swordplay for a while, then debated the pros and cons of the different gods. Finally, Percy asked him about the four empty cabins.

"Number 8, the silver one, belongs to Artemis." he said, "She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. Her cabin is honorary. If she didn't have one, she would get mad."

"What would happen if she did get mad?" Stelle piped up curiously.

Grover flinched at the very thought. "Artemis... getting mad at me- I mean, us... you wouldn't want to know."

"Yeah, okay..." Percy said, "But the other three, at the end. Do those belong to the big three?"

Grover tensed, and Stelle could tell they were getting close to a touchy subject.

"No. One of them is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos."

"Zeus. Poseidon. Hades." Percy thought back to Stelle's answer at the museum field trip.

"Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what."

"Zeus got the sky," Percy remembered, "Poseidon, the sea, Hades, the Underworld."

"Uh huh." Grover nodded.

Stelle completed her basket, delicate flowers weaved in every so often. She dropped it onto the water, expecting it to sink, but it float. The naiads giggled and one abandoned their basket to swim up for hers.

"Hades doesn't have a cabin here, does he?" He said.

A young, pretty naiad about their age with long brown hair emerged and waved flirtatiously at the trio. She turned to Stelle, face turning blue briefly. She smiled a bit more genuinely and pulled the basket under.

"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He kinda just does his own thing in Underworld. If he did have a cabin here..." Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant. Let's leave it at that."

"But Zeus and Poseidon- they both had like, a bazillion kids in the old stories. Why are their cabins empty?"

Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage."

That wasn't what Stelle learned in history.

"World War II, you know, that was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side, and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed.

"Hitler was a child of Hades?" Percy blurted. Stelle gave him a nasty look, and he frowned. "What? It's a reasonable question."

She lay down on the pier, sighing. "Still..."

"You have nothing to say, Stelle. Be quiet."

"Don't 'be quiet' me! Grover, did they seriously keep their promise? No kids?"

Grover's face darkened. "Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell of the wagon. There was this TV starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo- he just couldn't help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia .. . well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."

Percy hugged his knees and looked down at Stelle, knitting his eyebrows together. "But.. that's not fair. It wasn't the little girl's fault."

Grover hesitated. "Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about the girl, he wasn't too happy about Zeus breaking his oath."

"He had something to do with it? She was just little kid, not some... hero." Stelle said, rolling to her stomach, saying the word 'hero' as some would say 'giant cockroach'.

"She was a hero!" Grover's lip quivered and he looked away. "Hades let the worst monsters out of Tartarus to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."

He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where they'd fought the minotaur. "All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted animal."

'Ah. The way he talks about her...'

"The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand, alone, at the top of that hill. As she died, Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

Stelle did not want to deal with this sob story every time she looked at a pine tree. She wondered if stories like Romeo and Juliet were real tragedies if they both died in the end. Thalia died alone, and her friends still lived.

That was a real tragedy.

Percy stared at the pine in the distance.

The story made him feel hollow, and guilty too. A girl their age had sacrificed herself to save her friends. She had faced a whole army of monsters, alone. Next to that, their victory over the Minotaur didn't seem like much. He wondered, if he'd acted differently, could he have saved his mother? 

"Grover." Percy said, "Have heroes ever gone on quests to the Underworld?"

"Sometimes." he said, "Heracles, or Hercules if you're insistent on it, but it's supposed to be Heracles, Orpheus, Houdini."

"And... have they ever returned someone from the dead?"

Stelle sat up. "Percy!"

Never, never, would she deal with the dead. She would not consider bargaining for souls or going on adventures to Hell. Never. She wouldn't mess with the long past. Having someone come back to life was unnatural, strange.

"No. Never. Orpheus came close but... Percy, you're not seriously thinking-" Grover fretted.

Orpheus and Eurydice. She remembered how poetic and beautiful their myth was, and above all, how heartbreaking.

Orpheus sang ballads of light and sky, so hopeful, so wondrous. Gods and mortals alike were moved by the lilting songs of the earthly.

Just barely.

So close.

"No." Percy said hastily, "No, just wondering... so, does a satyr always get assigned to guard a demigod?"

Grover studied him warily. Percy hadn't persuaded him that he'd really dropped the Underworld idea. "Not always. We go undercover to a lot of schools. We try to sniff out the half-bloods who have the makings of great heroes. If we find one with a very strong aura, like a child of the Big Three, we alert Chiron. He tries to keep an eye on them, since they could cause really huge problems."

"And you found me. Chiron said you thought I might be something special."

Stelle groaned. "Inflated head, chouchou. Pop it."

Despite Stelle's joking, Grover looked as if he'd just led him into a trap. "I didn't... Oh, dont think like that. Even if you were- you know- you'd never ever be allowed a quest, and I'd never get my license. You're probably a child of Hermes. Or maybe even one of the minor gods, like Nemesis, the god of revenge. Don't worry, okay?"

Grover seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than the other two demi-gods, but Percy was insulted nonetheless.

Him? Not important?

That night after dinner, there was a lot more excitement than usual. 

At last, it was time for capture the flag. When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded and they all stood at their tables.

Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening gray, with a painting of a barn owl above an olive tree.

From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse and her buddies ran in with another banner, of identical size, but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a boar's head. 

Percy turned to Luke and yelled over the noise, "Those are the flags?"

"Yeah!"

"Do Ares and Athena always lead the teams?" Stelle shouted.

"Not always, but often!" Luke smiled, and in the torchlight, his scar made him look close to evil. 

The teams were announced. Athena had made an alliance with Apollo and Hermes, the two biggest cabins. Apparently, privileges had been traded- shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities- in order to win support. 

Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus. From what he'd seen, Dionysus's kids were actually good athletes, but there were only two of them. Demeter's kids had the edge with nature skills and outdoor stuff but they weren't very aggressive. 

Aphrodite's sons and daughters Percy wasn't too worried about. They mostly sat out every activity and checked their reflections in the lake and did their hair and gossiped. Hephaestus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly from working in the metal shop all day. They might be a problem.

That, of course, left Ares's cabin: a dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet. 

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble. 

"Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal. 

Stelle was getting nervous. There seemed to be a very real chance of messing this up for her team (a fear that wasn't unfounded, but quite farfetched).

Her shield was the size of an NBA backboard, with a big caduceus in the middle. It weighed about a million pounds. She could have snowboarded on it fine, but she hoped nobody seriously expected her to run fast. Stelle's helmet, like all the helmets on Athena's side, had a blue horsehair plume on top. Ares and their allies had red plumes. 

Percy looked similar, and twice as stupid. He lunked about, struggling to barely walk, forget fight.

Annabeth yelled, "Blue team, forward!"

They cheered and shook their swords and followed her down the path to the south woods. The red team yelled taunts at them as they headed off toward the north. 

She watched Percy manage to catch up with Annabeth without tripping over his equipment, thinking of ways to not get her foot caught in a root and fall over, all the while staying protected.

Ethan came up beside her, looking serious. "Luke told me to give you your job. You're decoy with a couple of others today, apparently you're quick on your feet."

Stelle couldn't run in this armor.

She thanked him anyways. Great. Decoy. What was Percy doing?

It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. The blue team made it next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then she and the rest of the team scattered into the trees.

Stelle looked around into the trees. She could've sworn she heard growling...

She raced next to the rest of the decoy team, feeling heavy and weighed down by her armor. Stelle was lagging behind. The Apollo children were quick as deer, and the Hermes children, with their lively steps, ran with barely any effort at all.

"Faster, newbie!" Someone yelled.

She took off her helmet, throwing it aside somewhere in the forest.

A little faster.

She threw aside her shield, which she wouldn't even know how to use.

A little bit faster.

She was level with her team now.

She unstrapped her armor, and she sighed with relief. That huge ugly thing was behind her now, literally.

She was fast now, fast enough to be level with the pack.

A distant cry made it clear that the decoy worked. A squad of Ares children, four, chased after them, one throwing a spear that just barely missed her. She didn't have armor on, it would've killed her, easy.

She doubted the gods would care. There wasn't a liability waiver, was there?

"Hey, girl!" A quick Hermes kid yelled, "Wayside to that tree!"

'Which fucking tree?! We're in a forest!' Stelle screamed in her mind, pumping her arms and legs as fast as she could.

A whole sword zipped past her cheek, grazing it. Holy shit. They really didn't care much for the no maiming or no killing rule, did they? The distant shouts of the squadron they drew got stronger, the clanking of shields becoming deafening and terrifying.

A bolt of adrenaline and fear rushed through her head. They'd catch up, wouldn't they?

Faster, faster, faster. Be faster, Stelle. Be faster, swifter, be more nimble.

"Be faster." She repeated to herself. "Please, please, please..."

Stelle repeated it like a mantra, like some sort of prayer. Something she'd say at the last stretch of a marathon, in second place for a sprint, or late to an important test.

This time, it worked, she just didn't know it. She was leading the group now.

Every word, she got just a little faster. Stelle blanked out, and just ran. She was a hell of a runner, that's what she knew. She like to run from people, from her problems. A glimpse of Luke, running through the underbrush, wearing a wild and delirious grin. He looked happier and more genuine than Stelle had seen yet.

He clearly had the Ares banner in hand.

"We've got it, let's go, go, go!" A son of Apollo screamed.

The leader of the red squadron cursed, swerving to chase after the group that had the banner. Some from the Hephaestus cabin were close behind Luke, but the Apollo kids who were originally decoy fought them off.

The Stolls, laughing high and wickedly, covered Luke's retreat with a fleetness of foot Stelle would just have expected from sons of Hermes.

As the creek came into view, and both red and blue tore through the bush, Stelle finally caught sight of Percy. Strangely enough, there was Clarisse as well, who stood up a let out a dazed curse.

"A trick!" She mumbled, "It was a trick!"

They staggered after Luke, but it was too late. Everybody converged on the creek as Luke ran across into friendly territory. The blue side exploded into cheers. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. 

The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn. 

As Stelle was swept into the celebrations, the Apollo kid who had originally led the decoy team animated articulated his bit of the story.

"And then the new girl- yeah, the unclaimed one- started running quick as the wind! It was awesome! I didn't know she could run that fast, she was like the dryad instructors!"

Stelle blushed and pretended like she didn't hear.

She heard that canine growl again, but much closer than before. A howl ripped through the forest. 

The campers' cheering died instantly. Chiron shouted something in Ancient Greek, which she would realize, only later, she had understood perfectly: "Stand ready! My bow!"

The way that the campers all drew their weapons with practiced ease and fluidity made her remember something. These weren't just your average bloodthirsty teens, these were half-gods fighting to survive.

There on the rocks just above them was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers. 

And it was looking straight at Percy.

Stelle would feel ashamed later, but she didn't dare move, lest the beast would notice her. Nobody did, besides Annabeth, who stood straight in front of Percy and shouted, "Percy, run!"

She felt a twinge of envy there. Why was Annabeth brave and she wasn't? That isn't fair.

The hound was too fast. It leaped over Annabeth- an enormous shadow with teeth- and just as it hit Percy, as he stumbled backward and felt its razor-sharp claws ripping through his armor, there was a cascade of thwacking sounds, like forty pieces of paper being ripped one after the other.

From the hounds neck sprouted a cluster of arrows. The monster fell at his feet. 

Several children of Apollo, as well as Chiron, had shot the hound dead.

By some miracle, Percy was still alive. He didn't want to look underneath the ruins of his shredded armor. His chest felt warm and wet, and he knew he was badly cut. Another second, and the monster would've turned him into a hundred pounds of delicatessen meat. 

Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim. 

"Di immortales!" Annabeth said. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't... they're not supposed to..." 

Stelle pushed past the milling crowd alongside Luke, his moment of glory forgotten.

"Percy, are you okay?" She gripped Percy's shoulders, running her hands down his arms experimentally.

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not. Get in the water." Annabeth said, "Chiron, watch this."

He was too tired to argue. Percy stepped back into the creek, the whole camp gathering around him. Instantly, he felt better. Percy could feel the cuts on his chest closing up. Some of the campers gasped. 

"Look- I-I don't know why..." Percy stammered, "I'm sorry-" 

Stelle stopped him. "Shut up and look above you."

By the time he looked up, the sign was already fading, but he could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident.

"Your father..." Annabeth murmured. "...this is not good.

"It is determined." Chiron announced.

All around Percy, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. 

Immediately, his gaze moved to Stelle, who hadn't yet kneeled.

'Please don't kneel, please don't kneel, please don't kneel-'

She kneeled in her need to conform.

"Poseidon," said Chiron, "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail Perseus Jackson, son of the sea god."