introducing Robert Downey Jr as Dionysus
and
Robert Carlyle as Tantalus
╔═══════════════╗
chapter xx.
( the sea of monsters )
❝ tantalus ❞
╚═══════════════╝
I WOKE UP TO A PLACE THAT wasn't home. It was a strange feeling, one that was hard to explain. But even though the infirmary around me looked the same; with the same ingredients on the shelf in the exact same places, the same drapes around the beds and the same smell, there was something about it that didn't seem right. It felt cold and uninviting—physically. The Apollo children always charmed the place to have a certain warmth about it that made patients feel calm and safe, and at the moment, I did not feel any of those things, I felt the exact opposite.
My brain felt foggy, but ignoring it, I stood up from my bed and pushed myself to walk to the door. "Argus?" I called out. "Argus, where are you?"
When I didn't see Argus around, what happened hit me like a snowstorm. Argus wasn't here, he was fired, Chiron was gone, replaced with a Tantalus? And that wasn't the worse part—Thalia ...
At that thought, I rushed out of the infirmary and onto the deck of the Big House. The strange feeling continued as I stared out at Camp Half-Blood. On the surface, nothing looked all that different. The Big House still looked the same with his's blue gabled roof and wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still were baed in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley—the amphitheatre the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the cabins, twelve buildings set out in a U shape around a bonfire, each representing an Olympian God.
But there was an air of danger now. You could tell that something was wrong. The volleyball court was unusually quiet, and instead of playing, counsellors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dyrads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sick, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.
Somebody had messed up my home, and I was angry.
"Claire! Hey, you're awake!"
When I heard Annabeth's voice, a wave of relief washed over me. At least there was something familiar around. My best friend rushed over and up the stairs from where she had been wandering around near the volleyball courts. She pulled me into a hug and I ignored the dull ache in my limbs.
"I'm so glad your all right," she said to my shoulder. "Percy and I tried to visit you, but Tantalus wouldn't allow us."
I pulled away, "How long have I been out?"
"Not long," she assured me. "It's nearly dinner time."
"Oh," we started to walk down the stairs and towards the pavilion. Questions filled my head, and I wasted no time in asking Annabeth all that I needed to catch up on. "What ... what about Chiron? Is what Clarisse said true? Has he ... is he really gone?"
Annabeth stared at the path in front of us. She swallowed hard, her jaw clenching as she did. "They blame him for the poisoning of Thalia's tree. So Zeus dismissed him."
"What?! No—Zeus can't possibly think—"
"It happened on Chiron's watch," she said sadly. "I think that was enough for him. So now Chiron and Argus are gone, and we're left with Tantalus and Mr D."
"Who's Tantalus?"
"He's ... uh ..." Annabeth's eyes fixed on the dining pavilion in front of us, "You'll—uh—you'll see."
The sun was setting behind the pavilion when the rest of the campers came up from their cabins. We stood in the shadow of a marble column and watched them file in. Annabeth still looked pretty shaken up, but she promised to talk to me later. Then she went off to join her siblings from the Athena cabin—a dozen kids with blonde hair and grey eyes like her. When I saw my siblings from the Apollo cabin, I made my way over to them.
Lee grinned when he saw me, as did Will, Jay, Michael, Kylie and Jenna. It was good to see them again after the school term. Once I reached them, they all flooded me with, "Are you okay?" and "We were so worried!" and "Don't overdo yourself again!" and "Oh, we're so glad you're all right!"
I tried to calm them down, "Guys—we can talk back in the cabin."
They didn't seem too happy about it, but they listened and allowed me to lead them over to the Apollo table. At the end of last summer, Lee handed over his counsellor badge to me after my first quest. Along with Annabeth, I've been at camp the longest. I may not be the eldest, but I've had the most experience out of all my siblings, and they decided to make me the leader. I wasn't sure whether I was up for the job yet, but this summer might give me the chance to give it a chance.
The other cabins filled up the space: Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes Demeter, Aphrodite, Dionysus and Poseidon ( Percy looked very out of place beside Tyson ). Naids came up from the canoe lake. Dyrads melted out of the trees and from the meadow, came a dozen satyrs, who reminded me painfully of Grover. I glanced over at the Hermes who filed in their table ( or rather, squeezed in, fighting for a good seat ), and for a second, I found myself looking for Luke—and then I remembered, and then I scowled and looked away.
Now, the Hermes cabin was led by Travis and Connor Stoll. They weren't twins, even though they looked so much alike it didn't matter—but Travis was older, I wasn't sure by how much, though. They were both very tall and skinny, with mops of brown hair that hung in their eyes. They had the signature Hermes elfish look: upturned eyebrows, sarcastic smiles and a gleam of mischief in their eyes that whenever they looked at you ... it gave you a feeling that they had put a spider in your hair—trust me, it's happened before.
Once everyone was sitting down, Jenna caught eye of Tyson and said rather loudly, "Who invited that?"
I quickly smacked her shoulder to shut her up when Percy sent a glare our way. I may not like Tyson, but Percy's my friend, and when she insulted the Cyclops, it was like she was insulting him in turn.
From the head table, Mr D drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't Peter Johnson. My millennium is complete."
Percy's jaw clenched, "Percy Jackson ... sir."
Dionysus sipped his Diet Coke. "Yes. Well, as you young people say these days, whatever."
He hadn't changed. He was wearing his usual leopard-pattern Hawaiian shirt, walking shorts and tennis shoes with black socks. His hair so black it looked purple in the light, and a blotchy red face that made him look like a Las Vegas tourist who'd stayed up too late in the casinos. Behind him, a nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skins off grapes and handing them to Mr D one at a time.
Dionysus was the god of wine. Zeus appointed him director of Camp Half-Blood to dry out for a hundred years as punishment for chasing an off-limits wood nymph.
Next to him, where Chiron usually sat ( or stood, in centaur form, really ) was someone I never saw before. The man was pale, with a terribly thin face and body, dressed in a threadbare orange prisoner's jumpsuit. The number of his pocket read 0001. Under his eyes were dark blue shadows, his fingernails were dirty and his hair was grey and badly cut. His eyes were the worse part about him. They looked fractured—Angry and frustrated and hungry all at the same time. At it wasn't only that ... he looked dead. It took me a second to realise that he was. That this man was Tantalus.
"This boy," Dionysus told him, "you need to watch. Poseidon's child, you know."
"Ah!" the prisoner said. "That one."
His tone made it obvious that he and Mr D had discussed Percy already at length.
"I am Tantalus," he said, smiling coldly. "On special assignment here until, well, until my Lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you, Perseus Jackson, I do expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble."
"Trouble?" Percy demanded.
Mr D snapped his fingers. A newspaper appeared in his hands—the front page of today's New York Post. What looked like Percy's yearbook picture from Meriwether Prep was printed right underneath the headline that I couldn't make out, but I could tell it was bad.
"Yes, trouble," Tantalus said with satisfaction. "You caused plenty of it last summer, I understand."
A satyr nervously set a plate of barbecued meat in front of Tantalus. The new activities director licked his lips before looking to his empty goblet and said, "Root beer. Barq's special stock. 1967."
The glass filled itself with foamy soda. Tantalus stretched out his hand hesitantly as if he were afraid the goblet was hot.
"Go on, then, old fellow," Mr D said, a strange sparkle in his eyes. "Perhaps now it will work."
Tantalus made a grab for the glass but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilt, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops rolled away like quicksilver before he could touch them. He growled and turned towards the plate of meat. He snatched up a fork and tried to stab the piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew off the end, straight into the coals of the brazier.
"Blast!" he muttered.
"Ah, well," Dionysus' voice dripped with fake sympathy. "Perhaps a few more days. Believe me, old chap, working at this camp will be torture enough. I'm sure your old curse will fade eventually.
"Eventually," Tantalus echoed, staring at Mr D's Diet Coke. "Do you have any idea how dry one's throat gets after three thousand years?"
"You're that spirit from the Fields of Punishment," Percy said. "The one that stands in the lake with the fruit tree hanging over you, but you can't eat or drink."
Tantalus sneered at him. "A real scholar, aren't you, boy?"
"You must've done something really horrible when you were alive," Percy continued a trace of mild admiration in his voice like he was impressed. "What was it?"
The prisoner's eyes narrowed. Behind him, the satyrs were shaking their heads vigorously, trying to warn Percy to shut up. But like usual, it didn't work.
"I'll be watching you, Percy Jackson," Tantalus said. "I don't want any problems at my camp."
"Your camp has problems already," Percy replied back immediately. He glared at Tantalus before adding a very sarcastic, "Sir."
"Oh, go sit down, Johnson," Mr D rolled his eyes. "I believe that table over there is yours—the one where no one else ever wants to sit."
Percy looked like he wanted to murder Mr D then and there, but thank god he wasn't that stupid. "Come on, Tyson," he said, but Tantalus stopped him.
"Oh, no," he said. "The monster stays here. We must decide what to do with it."
"Him," the son of Poseidon snapped. "His name is Tyson."
Tantalus raised an eyebrow.
"Tyson saved the camp," Percy insisted. "He pounded those bronze bulls. Otherwise, they would've burned down this whole place.
"Yes," Tantalus sighed, "and what a pity that would've been."
Mr D snickered.
"Leave us," the prisoner ordered, "while we decide this creature's fate."
Tyson turned to Percy with fear in his one big eye. Percy pursed his lips. I could see how much he wanted to defy Tantalus, but he knew it would be no good. "I'll be right over here, big guy," he promised. "Don't worry. We'll find you a good place to sleep tonight."
The cyclops nodded, "I believe you. You are my friend."
Percy trudged over to the Poseidon table and slumped onto the bench. Once he had sat down, the nymphs came over and started handing out food to everyone. As customary, everyone stood up and made their way over to the bronze brazier. In turn, we all sacrificed half of our dinner into the fire as an offering for the gods.
When we sat back down, the chatter was so loud, sometimes I couldn't hear what my siblings were saying. Jay kept on trying to talk to me, but my eyes were set on Percy where he stared at half of his pizza, not eating. Part of me wanted to walk over and sit with him, but I wasn't sure what would happen if I did. Never had anyone swapped tables. There was probably nothing wrong with it, but with Chiron gone, I don't think I could get away with it anyway.
Once dinner was nearly finished, Tantalus stood up once again, and the pavilion fell silent. Jay was halfway through eating his last slice of supreme pizza.
"Yes, well," the new activities director began, "Another fine meal! Or so I am told." As he spoke, he inched his hand towards his refilled dinner plate, as if maybe the food wouldn't notice what he was doing, but it did—it shot away down the table as soon as he got within twenty centimetres.
"And here on my first day of authority," he continued. "I'd like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture—er—interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."
Dionysus clapped politely, leading to some half-hearted applause from the satyrs. Tyson was still standing at the head of the table, looked very uncomfortable, but every time he tried to scoot out of the limelight, Tantalus pulled him back.
"And now some changes!" Tantalus gave the campers a crooked smile. "We are reinstituting the chariot races!"
Murmuring broke out at all the tables—excitement, fear, disbelief. Anger, mainly from the Apollo table. I remember the last chariot race we had here at Camp Half-Blood, and it didn't end well. The sport was dangerous, extremely dangerous. While some may find that exciting, I found it stupid and worrying and wrong.
"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these aces were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."
"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," Will grumbled ( all though he wasn't there, he has heard many tales ).
"Yes, yes!" Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning. The first race will be held in three days' time! We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?"
An explosion of excited conversation and even I found myself thinking—no KP, no stable cleaning ... I mean, it couldn't be that bad. We learn from our mistakes, right?
Then the last person I expected to object did so.
"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table. Some of the campers snickered when they saw the YOU MOO, GIRL! sign on her back. "What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—"
I hadn't even thought about that, and I scolded myself under my breath when I realised I had forgotten about Thalia and the safety of the camp for that small second.
"Ah, the hero of the day!" Tantalus exclaimed. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"
Clarisse blinked, then blushed. "Um, I didn't—"
"And modest, too!" Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?"
"But the tree—"
"And now," the activities director ignored her while several of Clarisse's siblings pulled her back into her seat, "before we proceed to the campfire and sing-along, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson and Claire Moore have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here." He waved a hand toward Tyson.
Uneasy murmuring spread among the campers. A lot of people gave sideways glances and me and Percy, I shuffled down in my seat so my view of everyone was blocked by Jay and Jenna.
"Now, of course," Tantalus went on, "Cyclopes have a reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normal circumstances, I would release this beast into the woods and have you hunt it down with torches and pointed sticks. But who knows? Perhaps this Cyclops is not as horrible as most of its brethren. Until it proves worthy of destruction, we need a place to keep it! I've thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous. Hermes cabin, possibly?"
Silence at the Hermes table. Travis and Connor Stoll devolved a sudden interest in the tablecloth. I couldn't blame them. The Hermes cabin was already too full, I couldn't imagine how'd they fit in a Cyclops, even a baby one like Tyson.
"Come now," Tantalus chided. "The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?"
Suddenly, everybody gasped.
Tantalus scooted away from Tyson in surprise. Above his head, a brilliant green light gleamed in the night—a holographic image of a three-pointed trident. The symbol of Poseidon.
There was a moment of awed silence. Being claimed was a rare occurrence, some campers waited in vain for their whole lives. When Percy had been claimed last summer, everyone had knelt. But no one did this time, instead, they followed Tantalus's lead as he roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"
Everyone laughed except Me, Annabeth and few of Percy's other friends. I glared at my siblings when they started to laugh nervously. In an instant, they stopped and looked to their plates in shame.
Tyson didn't seem to notice. He was too mystified, trying to swat the glowing trident that was now fading away over his head. He was too innocent to understand how much they were making fun of him, how cruel people were. It almost made me feel guilty.
*
THE NEXT FEW DAYS WERE WHAT COULD BE CALLED TORTURE. The cyclops moved into the Poseidon cabin, and Percy was getting hell for it. He only made it worse for him for trying to always have the last word, "He's not my real brother!" he would shout whenever Tyson wasn't around. "He's more like a half-brother on the monstrous side of the family, like ... a half-brother twice removed, or something."
Annabeth and I tried to make him feel better. We suggested that we'd team up for the chariot race to take our minds off our problems. Okay, don't get me wrong—I hated Tantalus, and I was worried sick for camp and Thalia and Chiron—but none of us had any ideas on what to do about it, we were helpless. Until we figured out a brilliant plan to save Thalia and the camp, we figured we might as well go along because if it came to it, and we needed a quest, we needed to be on Tantalus' good side—however, sneaking out is always an option.
After all, Athena, Annabeth's mother had created the chariot, Percy's father, Poseidon created horses and my father, Apollo rode himself a golden chariot that I had a key to ( all though, I'm not sure how that works ). So, we figured, together, that we'd own that track.
However, I had no idea on how to create a chariot, and I was really glad that Annabeth was doing most of the drawing and the creating and Percy and I said we'd just help paint ( she gave us a look after that ).
One morning, Percy, Annabeth and I were sitting by the canoe lake sketching chariot designs when some jokers from Aphrodite's cabin walked by and asked Percy whether if he needed to borrow some eyeliner for his eye—"Oh, sorry, eyes."
As they walked away, giggling, I rolled my eyes. "Is that seriously the best insult they could come up with?" I turned to Percy who glared at their backs. "Just ignore them, Percy. It's not your fault you have a cyclops for a brother—they're just picking on you because they're too scared to pick on a monster."
"He's not my brother!" Percy snapped. "And he's not a monster, either!"
I raised my hands in surrender, "Hey, don't get angry at me! I've been defending your little sucker ass because you befriended him in the first place."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Annabeth had slid backwards and out of the conversation—or, more or rather, the argument that was starting up.
"Oh, so it is my fault now," the son of Poseidon narrowed his sea-green eyes that were beginning to storm, "It was you who gave him permission to enter the camp."
I pulled at my hair. Sometimes he just frustrates me so much! "Because it was the only way to save you! Look ..." I sighed, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't expect Poseidon to actually claim him. That never happens—I mean, Cyclops are the most deceitful, treacherous—"
"He is not! What have you got against Cyclopes, anyway?"
I fell silent. My lips pressed together into a thin line—don't think about it, don't think about it! But even when I tried to push it away, the memory of walking those dark corridors, alone flooded away those barriers I put up and the chills returned, crawling up my spine and arms. I was glad when Annabeth stepped in, her ears looking a little pink.
"Guys, just forget it," she said, pointing a pencil at her diagram she had drawn. "Now, the axle for this chariot—"
But Percy wasn't finished, "No, seriously, Claire—you're treating him like he's this horrible thing!" he said. "You said so yourself—he saved my life!"
I threw down my pencil and stood up, glaring down at him. "You know what—if he's such an angel then perhaps you should design a chariot with him!"
Percy stood up as well. "Maybe I should."
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
And I stormed off, leaving a fuming Percy and a rather shaken Annabeth.
*
a/n: this chapter is a bit shorter than the others but mainly because I wanted to have the chariot races in the next chapter. Sorry for the wait, internets been shit. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.