CHAPTER SIX
I Become the Supreme Lady of the Bathroom
I don't own Percy Jackson.
While Percy tried to get over the shock that her teacher was a centaur, Will launched into his medical checkup to see if she really was suited to leave the infirmary. She wanted to protest that he had literally been sitting next to her the entire time and knew she was fine, but he insisted that it was just basic procedure and that, as one of the medics, it was his duty. He might've been at camp for four years and was considered a senior camper, but he explained that he was only second in command, and that his brother, Lee, would murder him if he just let a patient go without a checkup.
Before leaving, Chiron had asked Will if he could take over showing Percy around the camp—apparently he had a masters' archery class soon or something, and with Will being required to ensure that Percy was really ready to leave, he wouldn't have any time to do the tour. Will had smiled and agreed, though, privately, Percy thought that he wouldn't have been able to protest. Still, she was slightly relieved that it was him. She shuddered to think if it ended up being the Annabeth girl who had been forced to show her around. She had a feeling that Annabeth didn't like her, which was strange, because she was sure that she hadn't done anything to the blonde girl.
She got the answer to her question, however—upon asking him how he knew what he was doing and whether or not he was qualified, Will explained that he was the son of Apollo, who was the god of medicine (and healing, technically, though his son Asclepius was the true god of healing), and so healing was just one of the natural gifts he had inherited. Percy found it rather unfair that he was better at medicine than people who had practiced even their whole lives, but she knew better than to voice her opinion out loud. She wondered what other skills Will gained from Apollo. From what she recalled, he was the god of a thousand things, it seemed.
At last, after what felt like hours of poking, muttering, and interrogating, Will was satisfied that she was healthy enough to leave (which she already had, but decided not to point out). He warned her against too taxing activities since her body was still slowly healing, but they were minor enough that she probably wouldn't be too bothered by them.
Then they proceeded to have a rather nice tour of the camp.
The first thing that Percy noticed was that most of the campers were older than her. They were all wearing bright orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirts, making Percy wonder faintly if it was a requirement or if it was just because of the society in the camp. She also wondered if people ever asked what Camp Half-Blood was if any of the campers wore their shirts outside of this place.
Percy was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn't notice the campers in the volleyball courts staring at her, or the ones that pointed at her Minotaur horn and muttered things to their friends, but that didn't escape Will's notice. He glared at the campers while gesturing toward the court to Percy, as if daring them to continue, which they didn't. Other than Luke and Annabeth, Will was one of the oldest campers too, and despite being twelve, he was still considered to have seniority in a lot of fields. So upon Will's silent warning, the other campers backed down before Percy could notice what they were doing in the first place.
Percy shook her head to clear herself of her thoughts. For now, her one and only job was to concentrate on the tour, which she was already failing. She turned to Will, already preparing to ask a question, but the words died on her lips when she looked at him in surprise.
"You're glowing," she noted. "Did you know that?"
Will just grinned at her. "It's an Apollo thing."
That made sense, she realized. He was only glowing under the sun, emitting a faint, golden aura of some sort. She wondered if all the other children of the gods also had the same ability. Did Ares' kids glow red, and Dionysus' purple, or something? Or had Will been completely serious when he said that it was only an Apollo thing?
He answered that question almost immediately, as if he knew what she was thinking.
"It's kind of a way for Dad to say that he's watching over us... and also to remind everybody that his kids are fabulous." He snorted. "At least, that's what he said the last time I met him."
"You met him before?" she asked, surprised.
He nodded. "Quite a few times, actually. Apollo might have a lot of kids compared to the other gods, but I think he's one of the best at taking care of them." Then he smiled. "I don't think any of my siblings at camp haven't gotten a present from him on their birthday upon arriving here."
From the stories, Percy remembered that he had quite a long list of lovers, but of course, she didn't know what he was like now, and people were allowed to change, weren't they? If Will, who was a direct son of Apollo, said that he was at least a competent father, then she wasn't going to question him. Though she found herself wondering what exactly the standards were for being a good parent when it came to ancient Greek gods. Giving your kid a gift on their birthday seemed like the least a parent could do.
If Percy knew how terrible they usually were, she would've thought Apollo deserved all the "Best Dad" mugs in the world.
She turned around distractedly. The Big House was larger than she remembered—it was four-stories tall, with blue-sky walls and a white trim, reminding her almost of a sea resort for the wealthy. The weather vane—a brass eagle—gleamed under the sun. And then something caught her eye.
The curtain on the top floor rustled, and then there was a flash of a shadow. Percy blinked twice and then squinted, but there was nothing there. Still, she could've sworn the curtain had moved, and she had the strangest feeling that she was being watched.
"Will?" she asked.
"Yeah?"
She pointed at the window. "What's up there?"
Will's expression didn't change as he looked there too, and though his eyes had turned stormy, his expression was as neutral as ever. He would've been excellent at poker (though Percy shuddered to think of the game). He studied the window.
At last, he said, "Nothing important that you have to worry about. Just the Oracle. And there haven't been many quests recently."
He said that so casually, but it brought about a dozen more questions. Had he said the Oracle? Like, from ancient Greece? She suddenly had a very vivid image of a young girl stuck up in the attic. But Will didn't explain. Maybe it was a touchy subject, and she didn't want to push it. He turned away from the Big House and continued down the path to continue their tour, and Percy followed him, her curiosity still lingering.
The next stop was the strawberry fields, where campers were picking them while satyrs, who all looked bigger than Grover, were playing a sweet melody on their reed pipes. Will explained that the strawberries took almost no effort to grow because of Mr D's strange effects on fruit-bearing plants—whenever he was near, they would go crazy.
It worked best with grapes, of course, but since he was apparently restricted from that, they grew strawberries instead.
Percy barely had time to wonder why a magical camp run by gods would grow strawberries before Will answered that for her. He explained that there were still some things that they were expected to pay for, and the strawberries covered the cost. Since these were magical strawberries, they were pretty much automatically better than normal strawberries, and during harvest time, the camp sold them to local New York restaurants and sometimes even to Mount Olympus.
As Will explained all this to her, Percy found herself staring at a particular satyr whose lively tune caused a trail of little bugs to scuttle away from the plant in every direction. Distantly, she wondered if Grover would be able to do that kind of magic. Then she wondered how he was faring back in the farmhouse, and if he was still getting chewed out by Mr D.
"Will," she began hesitantly, making the blond cut off, "Grover won't get in too much trouble, right? I mean, he was honestly a really good protector... whatever that is."
Will pursed his lips. "Grover... well, you see, Grover wants to be a searcher. And that's one of the most important jobs as a satyr. However, to become one, a satyr first has to demonstrate that they can brave the dangers of being one. The first test is to find a demigod and bring them back to Camp Half-Blood. And well... one of the criteria is also that the demigod must be brought to us safely. And you were lucky to keep all your limbs, as much as I hate to admit it. Most people wouldn't fare well in their first fight against a Minotaur. In fact, you're rather lucky. Even scarring will be minimal since you got to us so fast. But you did suffer a serious concussion and really bad bruising. You also had a light fracture on your skull, and you pulled about a dozen muscles.
"Of course to the Council of Cloven Elders, this is already enough to raise an eyebrow at, but there's a lot of other issues. Grover apparently lost you in New York, he wasn't able to protect... to protect your mother, and he was unconscious when all the events of that night happened. I know that Grover means well, and everything he did was to help you, and he really tried his best, but the council doesn't exactly like him, and they'd be eager to rule this as a failure. They'd question how any of this shows Grover's courage if he had been unconscious the entire time."
"Who exactly is on the council? I promise that I just wanna talk with them."
Will cracked a grin at that. "You don't wanna fight them, Percy—they're extremely powerful and well-respected. I know that Chiron would agree with you—I mean, since he went to your school to teach you, I'm sure he knows how hard Grover tried, firsthand—but unfortunately, none of us are allowed to judge. It depends on the council and Mr D, but, fortunately, though he might not have the most pleasant temper and not many people adore him, Mr D is actually rather fair and sometimes even kind when passing judgement. Don't worry—I'm sure Grover will get a fair trial."
If that was supposed to reassure her, it didn't. In fact, Percy felt more guilty than ever.
She had been the one to ditch Grover despite her promise, and if she hadn't, his career might've still been on track and her mother... her mother might've still been alive.
"He'll get a second chance, won't he?"
Will winced. "Um... well, that was his second chance, Percy. I'm not too familiar with the details, but I heard that the council wasn't exactly anxious to give him another one, since what happened last time. Chiron's been trying to get him to wait a few years, but I've never met a satyr as determined and as passionate as Grover." Then Will smiled sadly. "Well, except for..."
He trailed off, eyes becoming misty as he sank into his memories. Percy waited patiently, but he didn't elaborate. After a few moments, he shook his head and his bright smile was bad, but the memory of his sad eyes didn't leave Percy. She wondered how he had gotten to camp, what his backstory was.
She didn't push, though. Instead, she asked, "What happened last time? It couldn't have been that bad, right?"
A shadow passed over his face. "I'm not the right person to tell you this. If you really want to know, you should ask Annabeth, or... Luke." He said the second name with such distaste that Percy found herself wondering what this mysterious Luke had done to him. "Anyway, even if I wanted to tell you, Annabeth made me swear to never tell anyone. And she's my friend, so I can't just break a promise I made her."
Annabeth. Blonde, scary. She wondered how someone as bright and sunny as Will became friends with Annabeth. Then again, one could ask how someone as shy and kind as Grover had become friends with someone as brash and sarcastic as Percy.
Anyway, seeing Will's face made Percy decide to drop the matter, and she asked instead, "Will... if the gods are real, is the Underworld too?"
He eyed her warily, but answered, "Yeah, of course. Ruled over by Hades. And I know what you're thinking, Percy, but don't. You're lucky to have come out of that fight with the Minotaur alive—don't push your luck even more. The last time someone cheated death, it was... well, I guess Asclepius is my brother, so it was my brother, and that caused a whole drama that I'd really like to not repeat."
She was being ridiculous, of course. Hadn't Grover said it was Hades who was after her in the first place? Why would Hades, who had sent the Minotaur to kill her, allow her to get her mother back? But there was something else too—Chiron and Will had deliberately avoided the word death when speaking of the incident with her mother, allowing her to foolishly hope that maybe, maybe, there was a chance...
Suddenly feeling a lot more cheerful than she had the last hour, she listened to Will's tour with a newfound interest.
He was showing her the woods at the moment, which was far bigger than she had first imagined. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so thick and tall that she was almost sure that nobody had touched it for hundreds of years. In Manhattan, the only places that had trees were the parks, the realization reminding her, again, that this place was so different from the world she had grown up in.
Will had told her that she was free to try her luck in the woods, but to go armed. She just stared at him and asked, "Armed?"
He smiled. "You'll see on Friday night. It's Capture the Flag. And I'm going to guess you don't have your own sword?"
"My own what now?"
"No, of course not," he mused to himself. "I'll have to go and ask Chiron. He'll probably visit the armory for you. And you'll need some armor too."
Percy wanted to desperately ask what kind of summer camp just gave out weapons to kids and had an armory, but then she supposed that, if this was truly a summer camp filled with gods and demigods, how out of place could an armory be?
Will continued the tour.
They visited the archery range, where Will's siblings, and a few other kids, were, firing arrows with deadly accuracy. She noticed one of them giving her guide a death glare, and she wondered why, but she didn't pry. After, they went to the lake, where they briefly watched about twenty kids racing each other in canoes, which looked like fun. Then they visited the stables, and it was there where Percy learned that they did indeed have flying horses. The javelin range was next, where Will explained that they didn't really have a formal lesson on javelins and spears, and it was mostly self-taught, as evidenced by the fact that Percy couldn't see any sort of instructor there. The sing-along amphitheater was usually used after dinner, Will explained, and his siblings and him would often lead the rest of the camp in sing-alongs.
At last, they came upon the arena, where most of the combat training took place, and where duels and challenges were often fought.
"Duels?" she asked, confused. "Challenges?"
"With blades. During cabin challenges and stuff, or when someone insults you and you want to fight them or something." Will shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really participate in them, or even watch them. They're not lethal, usually."
Ah, of course. That made her feel so much better.
Not.
"As long as they don't injure each other too terribly, I don't really care, but it does get annoying whenever we have to heal them later on so often. Ares and Athena's kids are usually the people who get into the most fights. So much for being the wisdom goddess' kids, right?" He didn't give Percy a chance to respond before continuing, "That's the mess hall, for meals."
Distractly, Percy glanced at where Will was pointing. It was an outdoor pavilion, framed by Grecian columns, overlooking the sea, with a dozen stone picnic tables clustered in the middle. However, there were no roofs, no walls, and she pointed that out to Will, whose lips quirked in amusement when she asked what they did when it rained.
"It doesn't rain here, so that's not a problem."
That left Percy with more questions than she started out with. It seemed as though that happened every time.
Will, thinking the conversation was over, moved on.
They were reaching the end of the tour now, and the last thing to see were the cabins.
The cabins were all strange and unique, stylized to the stereotype of the gods they belonged to. Number nine, for example (which she knew was number nine because of the large brass number that hung over all of the cabins' doorway, with odds on the left and evens on the right), had tiny smokestacks, reminding Percy of a mini factory. Number four had vines crawling up its walls and a grassy roof, flowers growing on the window sills. Number seven—Will's cabin, which he had spoken of rather proudly—seemed to have been built from real, pure gold. It gleamed so brightly under the sun that she was sure she'd go blind, and she wondered how Will could stand looking at that everyday.
When she asked, he just laughed. "It's an Apollo thing. We're the only people who can look at it during the day. Makes figuring out who Dad's kids are, but it's not that hard anyway. Apollo claims them pretty quickly—usually happens in a day or two."
He didn't elaborate on what claiming was, and continued to talk before she had the chance to ask.
The cabins were arranged in a U-pattern, and the area they were all facing was about the size of a soccer field, dotted with statues, fountains, flowerbeds, and even a couple basketball hoops that were mainly between cabins six and seven. In the very center lay a huge, stone-lined firepit, and despite the sunny afternoon, the hearth was smoldering, a little girl, maybe nine, poking and tending to the flames. When she looked up, Percy, feeling a bit awkward, waved. The girl waved back hesitantly, looking surprised.
The first two cabins—numbers one and two—were the only cabins that looked somewhat alike. Both looked more like a temple than a cabin, being built from white marble with heavy columns. Of all twelve cabins, number one was the largest and bulkiest, clearly designed to catch someone's attention first. The polished bronze door shimmered in the sun, giving the illusion of lightning streaking across them. Number two was somehow more graceful, with slimmer columns depicted with pomegranates and flowers, and peacocks carved into the walls.
"Zeus and Hera?" Percy asked Will.
He nodded. "Yeah. Nobody ever stays in one or two. There's four other cabins like that—the other two being three and eight. But basically, each cabin represents an Olympian god—twelve cabins, twelve gods."
"So like a mascot?"
"Mascot?" He had to think about that before his eyes lit up. "Oh, like your school animal? Yeah. Kind of, I guess."
Percy found herself wondering just how long Will had stayed away from the regular world. She knew that he had apparently been at camp for four years, but realizing that a boy her age didn't know so many things she thought was just common knowledge was a bit jarring. After being taken away from the normal world at such a young age, would he ever be able to go back without stirring up too much drama? Was that a course here?
As Percy thought about that, Will led her forward, to the next cabins.
She hadn't been planning to stop at Cabin three, but she did anyway.
Compared to Cabin one, three was much more... modest, for a lack of a better word. Where one had been high and mighty, three was long, low, and solid. The outer walls were embedded with pieces of seashell and coral, the walls themselves made from a rough gray stone. It looked as if they had been cut straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. Percy peeked inside, as the door had been wide open, and Will said, alarmed, "Wait, don't do that!"
Too late.
Percy caught the faint, salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls were glowing like abalone. There were a total of six empty bunk beds with their silk sheets turned down, but there was no sign that anyone had ever slept there. There was dust covering almost every inch of the place.
The place felt so empty and lonely that she was glad when she turned away and followed Will back down to see the other cabins.
With the exception of eight, all the other ones were crowded with campers.
Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job, as if the color 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 Percy. Inside, there were 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 size XXXL Camp Half-Blood t-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and gave her an evil sneer. The girl reminded Percy of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red.
"Ares' cabin," Will said rather distastefully. "They're always quick to insult. I wish they weren't so stereotypical. They often taunt us Apollo kids about sticking to our bows—though I must say, if it hadn't been for their insults, I probably never would've found the motivation or need to fight hand-to-hand. They and the Athena cabin don't get along too well. Ares is known more for the brash side of war, while Athena is known for war tactics, so they often clash. Annabeth complains about them. Thankfully, I'm aligned with Athena for Friday. Not that I think that the Ares' kids would ever ask us."
"Is Chiron the actual Chiron from the myths?" Percy blurted out.
The question had been eating at her ever since she found out that her teacher was really a horse, but upon finally asking Will, she found that she felt as though she were being rude, though she didn't know why.
Will just smiled. "Trainer of heroes of over three millenia? Yeah."
"But centaurs are mortal, right?"
He shrugged. "I'm not too familiar with the details myself, but Chiron has always loved teaching, so he asked the gods to make him immortal for that. Basically, he's immortal for as long as humanity needs him, and he can continue training heroes."
She wondered why he would've wanted to be a teacher for three thousand years. She wouldn't have had the patience. Once, she had tried her hand at babysitting because she hadn't believed it would be too hard, and that it would've been an easy way for her to make some snack money.
Needless to say, it was the last time she babysitted.
"Well, we're almost done anyway," Will said, "and Annabeth's waiting for us."
Annabeth was sitting in front of Cabin eleven.
She was reading a book on the steps, but hearing their footsteps, she looked up, eyeing Percy critically. Suddenly, it struck Percy that Annabeth and Will looked ridiculously alike; if they wanted, they could pass as siblings. The only thing different about them were their eyes—and perhaps their personality too. Where Will was all bright and cheery, Annabeth was cold and calculating. But then again, she didn't know the girl. Maybe Annabeth was nice when one got to know her. After all, Percy knew better than anyone to not judge people randomly.
Wanting to distract herself from Annabeth's chilly stare, Percy glanced at the book in her hands, but she couldn't understand the title. For a moment, she thought that her dyslexia was acting up, before she realized that the letters looked like Greek. Like, actual Greek. There were also pictures of states and temples and stuff, like something out of an architecture book.
"Cabin eleven," Will said, waving a hand absentmindedly in front of him. "Make yourself at home."
Of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like some regular old summer camp cabin, with an emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint was peeling, and Percy was a bit nervous that her weight would snap the wood. Over the doorway hung one of those doctor's symbols—two snakes wrapped around a winged pole.
A caduceus.
Percy peeked inside.
It was packed with people, both boys and girls—too many for everyone to fit on the twelve beds. To make room for them all, sleeping bags had been spread over the ground, covering almost every inch of floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.
The campers inside were staring at her, sizing her up. She knew the routine. She'd gone through it plenty of times at schools.
"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."
So naturally, Percy tripped going through the door and made a total fool of herself. Some of them snickered, but they didn't say anything. Percy was too embarrassed to even glare at them. They were all looking at her expectantly, but she didn't even know what to say.
Thankfully, Annabeth saved her.
She announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven.
"Regular or undetermined?" somebody from the back asked.
"Undetermined."
Everybody groaned. Percy wondered what undetermined meant.
One of the guys in the back came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."
The guy looked about seventeen, and looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash, but even with that, he was still good-looking. Still, Percy banished the thought as soon as it came. He was far too old for her.
"This is Luke."
Annabeth's voice sounded different, somehow. Percy glanced over, confused, but understood immediately when she saw the blonde blushing. Next to Annabeth, Will was trying to suppress his laughter, and was failing, but managed to turn it into an amused smile. He caught Percy's eye and winked at her, as if it were some inside joke between the two of them. Still, there was something in his eyes—like he was annoyed. When Annabeth caught Percy looking, however, she wasn't as easy going as Will was about it. Her expression hardened again.
"He's your counselor for now," she said stiffly.
"For now?"
"You're undetermined," Will explained just as Luke opened his mouth. "Since you technically can't stay in any other cabins, eleven always takes in everyone. Eleven's patron is Hermes, the god of travelers, so newcomers are always welcomed here."
"Yes, thank you, Will," Luke said breezily, and unless Percy was mistaken, there was a flash of irritation that crossed the younger blond's face.
Deciding that she would not get into the situation between the three campers that had clearly been going on for a while, Percy glanced instead at the tiny patch of floor Luke had pointed for her. It was so small that Percy wasn't even sure if she would be able to sleep there. She wondered if she would be allowed to sleep outside, because she was sure that the cold would've been better than this.
Fortunately or unfortunately, she couldn't decide, she didn't have anything to put there to mark it as her own spot. No luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag. All she had were the clothes on her back and her Minotaur horn, but it wasn't like she could put that down. Hermes, after all, was also the god of thieves. Her grip around the box tightened. She wouldn't give that up no matter what.
The campers were all wearing different expressions. Some were sullen and suspicious, others were grinning madly at her, and some were eyeing her like they were waiting for the chance to pickpocket her.
Looking back at the three blondes, Percy saw that they were still in the middle of their... whatever it was, so, trying to ease some of the tension, she asked, "So how long will I be here?"
"Good question," Luke said, turning to face her, barely missing Will's scowl. "Until you're determined."
"Ah." There was a moment's pause before Percy asked hesitantly, "And how long is that supposed to take?"
The campers all laughed, though the laughter sounded bitter and angry. She wondered why.
"Come on," Annabeth told her. "I'll show you the volleyball court."
"But I've already seen it."
"Come on."
Annabeth didn't care about Percy's protests and grabbed the other girl's wrist, dragging her outside. To Luke's back, Will shot the older blond another glare before following the two girls, grimacing. Even when the three of them had gone a good ways away from cabin eleven, Percy could still hear their bitter laughter.
"Jackson, you have to do better than that," Annabeth said sharply, letting go of Percy, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe I thought you were the one."
Rubbing her wrist, Percy demanded angrily, "What's your problem? All I know is that I killed some bull guy—"
"Don't talk like that! Do 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?"
"Hey!" Will interrupted, giving Annabeth a hard look. "Go easy on her, okay? She was just told that Greek mythology exists about an hour ago, and we obviously haven't told her everything she needs to know. It's natural for her to ask questions and not know things, okay? I thought you were supposed to encourage questions and stuff. Isn't that how people learn?"
Annabeth didn't reply, but the knuckles on the hand gripping her knife had turned white.
Deciding that asking Annabeth any more questions would get her head chopped off, Percy turned to Will.
"But if the thing I fought was really the Minotaur, the original one from the stories, there's only one, right? And he died, like, a gajillion years ago. Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."
She trailed off, hoping that they understood the question she wasn't sure how to ask.
Thankfully, Annabeth understood, because she answered a bit stiffly, "Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."
"Great. That makes total sense. Thanks."
"Chirom calls them archetypes," Will said. "Basically, they don't have souls like you and I. After killing them, you can kind of... banish them, I guess? for some time—even a whole lifetime, if you're lucky, but they're primal forces. Eventually, they'll reform, and come back."
"So if I accidentally killed one with a sword..."
"Oh, you mean your math teacher?" Annabeth nodded. "Yeah. She's still out there somewhere. She's just very, very mad, probably."
Percy stared at her. "How do you know about Mrs Dodds?"
The blonde rolled her eyes. "You talk in your sleep, remember?"
"She was a Fury, wasn't she? I recognize her picture from my book."
"Don't say their name," Annabeth said, glancing at the ground nervously like she expected it to swallow her. "Not even here. If you have to speak of them at all, we call them the Kindly Ones."
Percy wanted to argue that Mrs Dodds had been anything but kind, but somehow, the words she said were instead, "Is there anything we can say without it thundering? Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven anyway? There are plenty of other cabins and empty bunks."
She knew she sounded whiny, even to herself, but she didn't care. She pointed at the first few cabins and Annabeth and Will paled, sharing a look, before Annabeth said, "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or... your parent."
She stared at Percy, but Percy, refusing to believe what they were trying to convince her of, just said, "My mom is Sally Jackson. She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."
"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."
"He's dead. I never knew him."
Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead, Percy."
"How can you say that? Did you know him?"
Which was such a weird thing to ask, because she knew that they didn't, but... well, Will telling her that he was the son of Apollo wasn't that farfetched. He glowed in the sun and he was a doctor at twelve. But to say that she was the daughter of some god... well, Percy didn't feel very godly in that moment. She had never felt godly in her entire life. If there was a word for feeling as ungodly as one could feel, that would've been how she felt. There was no way she could've been a demigod.
"No, of course not," Will said gently, "but I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't a half-blood."
Percy crossed her arms, suddenly feeling very defensive. "You don't know anything about me."
"No?" Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them. Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."
Percy tried to keep her ears from going too red, but she was probably failing. How had Annabeth known all that? Still, she tried to swallow her embarrassment and asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"There's no reason to be embarrassed, Percy," Will told her.
"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign," Annabeth said. "The letters float off the board when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."
Percy stared at them. Finally, she managed to ask, "Did you... did you two go through the same thing?"
Will nodded. "Most of the kids here did. And Annabeth;s right. Without your battlefield reflexes, you wouldn't have been able to survive the Minotaur. And even if you were some lucky mortal, you definitely wouldn't have survived the ambrosia and nectar."
"Ambrosia and nectar?"
"The food and drink we use to heal people. God food."
"It would've killed a normal kid," Annabeth added. "It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."
A half-blood.
Percy opened her mouth, and then closed it, unable to think up a counterargument. She silently promised herself to never get into an argument with the son of the god of knowledge again. Annabeth and Will were still looking at her expectantly while she tried to process everything they had just said, her mind reeling with so many questions she wasn't sure where to start.
Before she could ask any of them, however, a husky voice yelled, "Well! A newbie!"
Distracted, Percy looked over. It was the big girl from the ugly red cabin—cabin five, she remembered—and she was sauntering over to the three of them. Behind here, there were three other girls, all big and ugly and as mean-looking as the girl in front, all wearing camo jackets. From beside her, Will tensed, and she suddenly remembered him telling her that the Ares kids always taunted the Apollo kids for using their bows, not blades. Did a lot of cabins have feuds like that?
"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed, "why don't you go polish your spear?"
"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl—Clarisse, Percy assumed—said. "So I can run you through with it on Friday night."
"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth said, which Percy somehow understood was Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though she had a feeling it was a worse curse that it sounded. "You don't stand a chance."
"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse promised, though her eye twitched. Maybe she wasn't sure she could follow through with the threat. Then she turned to Percy. "Who's this little runt?"
"Percy Jackson," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."
Percy blinked. "Like ... the war god?"
Clarisse sneered in her face. "You got a problem with that?"
"No," she said, recovering her wits. "That explains the bad smell."
Will lightly kicked her in the shins and sent her a warning look, and Annabeth had elbowed her side, so it felt like a double attack on both sides, but she it was too late anyway.
Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."
"Percy."
"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."
"Clarisse—" Will tried to say.
"Stay out of it, sun boy. And you two, owl face."
They looked pained, but they did stay out of it. And Percy didn't really want their help anyway. She was the new kid. She had to earn her own rep.
She handed Will her Minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before she knew it, Clarisse had already grabbed her by the neck and was dragging her toward a cinder-block building that Percy dimly recognized as the restrooms from the tour with Will. And even if she hadn't remembered, the smell would've told her everything she needed to know.
Percy had been in plenty of fights before, but Clarisse had hands like iron, and her kicking and punching didn't seem to do anything. Clarisse dragged her into the girl's bathroom, with toilets lining one side, and shower stalls down the other. The place smelled like some regular public restroom, and Percy thought—well, as much as she could think with Clarisse trying to rip her hair out—that if this place really belonged to the gods, they should've been able to afford classier johns.
Clarisse and her friends were all laughing, and Percy was trying to find the strength she'd used when fighting the Minotaur, but it just wasn't there.
"Like she's 'Big Three' material," Clarissesniggered with her friends as she pushed Percy toward one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, she was so stupid-looking."
Annabeth was standing in the corner, watching through her fingers, but she was still staying out of the fight. Percy wondered if Annabeth would intervene if Clarrise went too far. Probably, but she also wondered what too far was. Will was standing right outside the restroom, probably not stepping in because it was the girls' restroom, but he looked concerned, his hand drifting toward the long knife hanging from his belt that she hadn't noticed before.
That was the last view Percy had of them before Clarrise kicked open one of the stall doors and then the back of Percy's knees. With a small gasp of pain and surprise, Percy fell, and, taking advantage of her sudden imbalance, Clarissestarted pushing her head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked of rusted pipes and... well, what went into toilets. Percy struggled to keep her head up, looking at the scummy water, thinking, I will not go into that. I won't.
And then something very strange happened.
There was a tugging in the pit of her stomach. The plumbing suddenly rumbled and the pipes began to shudder. Clarisse's grip on her hair loosened, clearly confused. And then, much to everybody's surprise, water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over Percy's head. The next few moments were a blur, but Percy found herself sprawled on the bathroom titles and Clarisse screaming from behind her.
She turned around just as water blasted out of the toilet again, smacking Clarisse in the face so hard that it sent her falling onto her butt. The water stayed on her like a spray from a firehose, hitting her with enough force to push her backward into a shower stall.
She struggled to get to her feet, gasping and spluttering out toilet water, and her friends started going to her, ready to help, but then the other toilets exploded too. Six more streams of water blasted them back, and then the showers started malfunctioning too. The combined might of the toilets and showers proved too much for the camouflage girls, because it sprayed them right out of the restroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away while they all screamed curses at Percy.
As soon as they had been pushed out the door, the tug in Percy's gut lessened, and then the water shut off as quickly as it had started.
The entire restroom was now flooded and smelled far worse than it had before. Will and Annabeth hadn't been spared. Though they hadn't been pushed out the door—Will was already standing outside anyway—they were dripping wet, standing in the same place, staring at her in shock. They seemed to think it was her who had caused the accident, though how could Percy have done so? Maybe her father was the god of toilets or something.
Then she looked down and realized that she was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole place. She didn't have a single drop of water on her.
She managed to stand up, her legs shaky.
Annabeth said, "How did you...?"
"I don't know."
And it was true. She wasn't sure how she had managed it.
Will wasn't saying anything, but there was something about his expression... Percy realized that, in that moment, he looked a lot like Annabeth—his eyes were calculating and hazy, as if he wasn't really there. His bright blue eyes had turned stormy. Then he blinked, the fog in his eyes clearing, and then shared a dark look with Annabeth, who glanced away after a moment. Percy wondered what they were thinking.
Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk and point and whisper. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage.
Upon seeing Percy, she gave her a look of absolute hatred. "You are dead, new girl. You are totally dead."
Percy probably should've let it go, but instead, she said, "You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Then close your mouth."
Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged Clarisse toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet, still pointing and whispering and staring.
Annabeth was still looking at her. She couldn't tell whether she was grossed out or angry at Percy for dousing her.
"What?" she demanded. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking," Annabeth said, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."
Quick grammar peeve: I was reading a book the other day where people used the word blonde and blond incorrectly. Blonde is for females (which is why, when describing Annabeth, I write blonde) and blond is for males (so Will is a blond). Not a huge deal, but might be useful for those who are writing fics of their own. But maybe the definition is changing? I'm not sure.
Also, I'm torn between wanting them to start their relationship earlier (somewhere like Battle of the Labyrinth) or sticking to Rick's original Last Olympian storyline. I think it's more satisfying to do Last Olympian because of nostalgia, but also, I want them to get together. I'll probably do Last Olympian but I'm still thinking about it.
I tried to change up the text by having Will be the one to give her the tour, though I'm not sure if it worked out that well.
My author notes have been so long these past few chapters what is happening—