CHAPTER SEVEN
My Dinner Goes Up In Smoke
I don't own Percy Jackson.
The rest of the tour finished awkwardly.
Percy tried to block out the other campers when they pointed at her and murmured something about toilet water wherever she went. Or maybe they were staring at Will, who was still dripping wet. Annabeth had announced that she was going to take a shower and then go train, and said that since Will had been her tour guide before, he could finish it without her help. Percy had tried to apologize, telling her that it wasn't her fault, but Annabeth's skeptical gaze made her realize that it had been her fault. She didn't understand how, but the toilets had responded to her. She had been the one with the plumbing.
"You need to speak with the Oracle," Annabeth had said.
"Who?"
"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."
Then she had left, and left Will sighing and explaining to her just exactly what Annabeth meant by that.
Percy had imagined the Oracle to be some sort of young beautiful girl who sat on a tripod and sprouted some funny words that would predict the future. At least, that was how Oracles had been described to be like in the original Greek myths. According to Will, however, the Oracle didn't look anything like that. Well, it was supposed to, but the spirit of Delphi had stopped taking hosts for some reason. The host had died, and then... well, because she wasn't alive anymore and hadn't been for decades... the Oracle had gone from being a she to an it.
It was still a bit confusing, but at least Will's answer had made far more sense than Annabeth's. She wondered how the gods hadn't figured out what had happened to the Oracle even after over half a century, but she supposed that even a god's power was limited.
Will showed her a few more places he had forgotten in his first tour: the metal shop, where kids were forging their own weapons; the arts-and-crafts room, where a bunch of satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat man Percy strongly suspected was Pan; and the climbing wall, which were two walls facing each other that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if campers didn't get to the top fast enough.
Though Percy wasn't too excited about the first two (her arts-and-crafts skills weren't exactly anything to brag about), she actually found the climbing wall interesting for some morbid reason. Well, of course, that was only if she could actually climb it without dying.
"Um," she asked, "has anyone ever died climbing that?"
Will shook his head. "No, but we've had some pretty close calls. It's usually from new campers, though—the ones that overestimate their own skill and put it at the hardest mode because they think they can do better than the senior campers" He scoffed. "Please. They usually can barely even swing a sword correctly, and they think they can scale an erupting volcano? And then they have the audacity to complain at us medics for not working fast enough! Sometimes I just—"
He broke himself off. Percy had a feeling that he was subtly trying to warn her not to follow in those arrogant half-blood's footsteps, but it wasn't like he needed to do that anyway. If she ever climbed that thing, she was sure she would've wanted the walls to stay frozen the entire time. Call her a chicken, but she didn't exactly fancy being burned. She was sure that the medics would get to her in time to keep her from actually dying a fiery death, but she had once read that being burned was the most painful thing in the world, and she wasn't exactly anxious to try that out.
Will then abruptly turned toward the archery station, and Percy had to follow.
At last, they finished the tour and found themselves walking back to the cabins along the canoeing lake. Percy glanced at the water, but she hadn't expected the people to be staring back at her from the bottom of the lake. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the two teenage girls sitting about twenty feet below the surface, clad in blue jeans and shimmering green t-shirts, their brown hair floating about their shoulders as small fish darted in and out.
Upon seeing Percy's stare, however, the two girls smiled and waved as if Percy were some long-lost friend.
Percy, not knowing what else to do, waved back hesitantly.
Will must've noticed where she was looking, however, because he warned, "Don't encourage them. Naiads are terrible flirts."
"Naiads," Percy repeated, distantly recognizing the name from her textbook. "Of course. Just out of curiosity, when's the next bus out of here?"
Will frowned. "Percy... this is home. It's the only safe place on earth for kids like us."
"Mentally disturbed kids?"
Will just gave her a look, but said, "Not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human. Half-human and half-god, as I'm sure you've already guessed. And I've told you my dad is Apollo."
"So you're saying... you're trying to tell me my dad is one of the Olympians?"
Will nodded.
"But that's crazy."
And it was. Because there was no way that Percy was the daughter of a god. It had been hard enough to wrap her mind around the idea that her father had been some important businessman and that, had he had the guts to marry her mother, they could've been rich and happy, but to say that her father was a god? Her mother had always said her father would be proud of her, but what kind of god would've been proud of her? And she had never done anything godly anyway. They all had to have been mistaken. But she knew that they were right.
"Is it?" Will raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you know some, if not most, of the myths. Gods had kids all the time. Half the heroes you know are demigods—Perseus, Heracles, Theseus. Why should it be so strange for them to have more kids? They're immortal, Percy, and often get bored. They wouldn't change their habits in the last few millennia."
Will was probably right. Wasn't the thing that the myths emphasized that the gods, despite their power and wisdom and might, were all still so human? Habit was hard to change, and it had been habit for the gods of ancient Greece to run around falling in love with mortals and having kids with them. Expecting them to have changed their habits in the last two, three thousand years was kind of far-fetched. Still, she kept a wary eye on the sky. She wasn't sure if what Will said was an insult, but she would've rather not have the only person that didn't hate her combust on the spot or something.
Will was studying her in a strange way that made her uncomfortable; like she was a battle plan that needed to be flawless. She shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.
"You're taking all of this rather well," he said at last. "Better than others, at least. At least you haven't attempted to fight your way out yet."
That hadn't been what she was expecting him to say.
Now she didn't know what to say.
Was that a regular occurrence or something?
"I... I don't know," she admitted. "I guess... well, it kinda makes sense. Kind of hard to wrap my mind around, but when I think about it..." Then she laughed, but there was little humor behind it. "Or you all are great at conning middle-schoolers. It's one or the other, but unless you hired people to follow me around for the last twelve years, which I very much doubt, then... yeah. It explains a lot of the things that happened to me."
"Oh, it was hard for me," he said softly. "You came here knowing Grover and Chiron already, at least, though you knew him as Mr Brunner. Me? I had no one."
"You didn't have a satyr bring you here?"
"I did."
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't say anything. His eyes were misty and distant, as if he were remembering a painful memory. She didn't press it. Will was one of the nicest people at this camp so far, and she wasn't willing to gamble his friendship just for possibly a few secrets. Everybody had their secrets, and if he wasn't willing or ready to share his with her yet, then she wouldn't pry.
Instead, she changed the subject.
"So, are all the kids here half-god?"
That broke Will out of his remicising. He had to think about it. "Depends on how you define kids. If you're talking about human-looking beings, then yes. If you mean campers, then no. Grover, as you know, is a satyr, and you've seen more satyrs around camp. Also you've seen nymphs and naiads, right? They're not half-god. Also, the official term is demigod, or half-blood."
"And your dad is Apollo."
"God of archery, medicine, poetry, and knowledge, to name a few."
He said it with a sort of pride that made Percy wonder if that was something that was strictly related to Will, or if most of the other campers also took pride in their godly parent.
Wait... had Will said that Apollo was the god of knowledge?
Despite the situation, she had to laugh.
That was why he was so clever, wasn't he? Athena might've been the goddess of wisdom and cleverness, but if Apollo was the god of knowledge, then he too would've at least somewhat rivaled her in intelligence. And of course his son would get that trait. Why not?
Will had clearly thought she was laughing in disbelief at the fact that his father was the god of so many things, because he added, "Since he's the god of so many things, his kids—my siblings—don't inherit everything. Just a few, or one, of his more well-known skills, and maybe a few more obscure ones. Well, actually, it's more complicated than that. We all get the most famous ones like archery and healing and music, but some of us are just better at it than others, you know? Like my sister is great at healing, but not the best at archery. It doesn't mean she's bad, though. It's like... being one of the worst in the Olympics. Not the best, but she's still in the Olympics."
"Er, right."
It had been rather confusing, since it seemed like he had been contradicting himself with every other sentence, but she got the main gist of it... at least, she was rather sure she had.
"So how long have you been at camp?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Four years."
"And you haven't seen her since you were...?"
"Eight," he supplied helpfully. "My mom... well, she's always asking me to go back, but I don't want to put her in harm's way. Also, she lives... really far from camp. Even if I went back home during the school year, it's not like I'd be able to rely on camp for anything. I'd basically be on my own for the year, and that isn't something I'd want. Besides..." he grimaced. "My mom remarried after Apollo, got together with some guy. He didn't like me very much. He was really traditional, you know? and he didn't like the idea of my mom having me without having married my dad."
"Oh," she said, because what was she supposed to say to that? Thankfully, Will didn't hold it against her.
"Axel barely tolerates me," he muttered, half to himself. "He thinks Kaden is so much better than me. I mean, just because he married Mom? Please. Kaden's nice enough for a toddler the last time I saw him, but I don't even understand the logic of hating someone for something that they can't control." Then he must've realized that she was there because he snapped out of his reverie and added hastily, "Annabeth's mom is Athena, goddess of wisdom and battle. I think she likes my cabin the most since we're usually the only other ones who can keep up with her ramblings."
"Who's her dad?" Percy asked without thinking.
Will hesitated. "You didn't hear it from me, but her dad's a professor at West Point. They don't really see eye-to-eye. Annabeth doesn't talk much about him. All I know is that he teaches American history, and she hasn't seen him since she was very small."
"Oh."
That seemed to be all that she was saying lately.
She changed the subject.
"When I asked how long it usually takes to be claimed, why did Annabeth get so mad, and why did everyone laugh? There's usually a set time, right? I mean, especially if your mortal parent already knew, right?"
He frowned at her. "What do you mean, your mortal parent already knew?"
"Well... I'm sure my dad told my mom who he was. She must've known. He loved her. Don't most of you guys have that too?"
Will looked like she had just punched him in the gut, and, too late, she realized that must not have been the case.
Before she could say something, though, Will had said, rather pained, "No, not often, but maybe in your case. Anyway, even if your mom knew, or even if any of us knew... or, at least, suspected, it doesn't matter. We can't do anything about it until your dad sends a sign claiming you as his daughter. It happens... mostly."
She frowned. "Mostly?"
"Like... sixty-percent of the time?" At her horrified expression, he tiredly explained, "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always... well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us. Not all of them, of course—Apollo has been rather good about claiming his kids quickly—but enough."
Sixty-percent. That meant the gods, if this were a test, had absolutely bombed it.
She thought about the kids in the Hermes cabin, with their sullen and depressed expressions, waiting for a call that they knew would never come. She'd seen that before at Yancy Academy; kids with rich parents who had just shuffled them off to boarding school because they didn't have the time or energy to raise a kid they decided to bring into the world.
But gods should behave better.
And Percy wondered distantly if she was any better than the other demigods in the Hermes cabin.
Would her father ever claim her?
Percy wanted to yell at the gods.
She wanted to hurl insults at the sky, wanted to shout at them to take care of their children. She wanted to ask them why they even had kids in the first place if they didn't care about them, because wouldn't it have been easier to keep it in their pants?
(She still wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but Smelly Gabe had used it enough times for her to get the gist of its meaning.)
But she couldn't. She knew that she couldn't.
So she settled for giving the sky an angry look before turning to Will.
"So that's it?" she asked. "I'm stuck here for the rest of my life?"
"No, not really. Most campers leave for college and only occasionally return to help with teaching the younger kids. As for when you're younger... most campers only stay for the summer. Some of the Olympians are more powerful than others" —Will wisely didn't specify any names— "so their kids are considered more powerful than others. For those who aren't a kid of them, they're probably not an extremely powerful force that would turn the heads of every monster, so they can get by with a few months of training a year at camp and live the rest of their lives in the mortal realm.
"For some of us, though, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. Our powers are too great to not attract monsters, and sometimes, we're not strong enough to fight them off by ourselves. They'll usually ignore us until we're old enough to start killing them—usually about ten or eleven—but after that, most demigods either find their way here, or they get killed off.
"Some manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. I can't remember the extensive list—Annabeth's memorized all their names, and she's got a book on them if you want to read it—but if I did tell you the ones I know, you'd recognize them, I'm sure. And some, of course, never realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."
"So I'm guessing monsters can't get in here."
Will nodded. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside."
"Why would anybody want to summon a monster?"
"Practice fights. Practical jokes."
"Practical jokes," she repeated.
"I know." Annoyance flared in his eyes. "Someone always gets injured and one of my siblings, or I, is pulled in in the middle of the night to go and heal them. It gets so aggravating. Probably because I'm one of the main healers in my cabin and it's usually me who gets dragged along because I'm third in command. Lee likes sticking to his bows and so does Michael... and also because they don't want to get up."
He rolled his eyes at the thought of his apparent half-brothers, but there was a fondness to his voice that even Percy could detect.
"Anyway," he continued, "the borders are sealed to keep everyone we don't want out—namely monsters and mortals. The only exception to that rule is when someone from the camp—say you or I—give them explicit permission to enter, but after that, we have no control over it anymore. They can come in and out as they please. For those who haven't been allowed, mortals who look inside from the outside just see a strawberry farm."
"Are you a year-rounder?"
Will nodded.
He pulled out a leather necklace from under the collar of his t-shirt that seemed to strangely sparkle under the sunlight. Strung on the leather necklace were four clay beads of different colors. It looked like Luke and Annabeth's, except Will's had one less bead, and there was also a small diamond pendant on it.
"I've been here since I was eight. Every August, on the last day of the summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. Kind of morbid if you think about it. It's like a congratulatory gift for not dying. Anyway, I've been here longer than most of the other counselors, except for Luke and Annabeth, of course. "
"Oh." There was a pause. "So... just curious, but could I just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?"
Will just raised his eyebrow, but said, "Technically, yeah. If you want to come back without getting in trouble, you'd need Mr D or Chiron's permission (unless you're a Hermes kid—they sneak out all the time), but they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless..."
He trailed off, piquing Percy's interest.
"Unless...?" she nudged.
"Unless you were granted a quest. But that doesn't happen often. And hasn't since the last time..."
He stopped himself, but Percy could tell from his tone that the last time hadn't gone so well.
She changed the subject, which she seemed to do so frequently. "Back in the infirmary, when Annabeth was feeding me that stuff—"
"Ambrosia," Will said automatically.
"Uh... yeah. While Annabeth was in the room with me, she mentioned something about the summer solstice."
Will sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You were literally unconscious and she asked you? Sounds like Annabeth, though. She's been bugging me about it too." Then he looked at her with a newfound interest. "Why? Do you know something? You've been out of camp until now, right?"
"Well... yeah, but considering I've just been introduced to the mythological world... I don't know much. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. That's everything I know."
Will frowned, leaning forward. "I'm kind of worried, too. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal."
"You've been to Olympus?"
"Some of us year-rounders—Annabeth and Clarisse and I and a few others—we took a field trip during the winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council."
"But... how did you get there?"
"The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor."
"... six hundredth floor?"
He smiled. "It's Olympus—it's not going to be on a regular floor. Also, special elevator. Anyway, right after we visited, the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best Annabeth andI can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, Annabeth was hoping... I mean, Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But she thought that you two could work together. She thought you might've known something."
Percy shook her head. She wished she could help him, but she was too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions.
"Annabeth's wanted a quest since she was young," Will said quietly. "It's been her dream. When Chiron didn't allow them anymore after that disaster last time... she was crushed. And... I guess I understand her a little. What's the point of all this training if I'm not even allowed to live?"
Percy could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Will must've heard her stomach growl, because he told her to go on, and he'd catch her later. She left him on the pier, tracing his finger across the rail as if drawing a battle plan.
Percy wasn't quiet, not by a long shot, but she had felt far too awkward to join in with the talking and horsing around with the rest of cabin eleven. She took that time to observe the rest of the campers, noticing for the first time that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles.
They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers; the kids that would've fit right up Percy's alleyway.
Maybe Luke saw how lonely she was, because he came over, smiling at her. He had the Hermes family resemblance too, but it was marred by the scar on his right cheek.
"I found you a sleeping bag," he said. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store."
Percy couldn't tell if he was kidding about the stealing part, and then she decided that she would've rather not known.
She said, "Thanks."
"No prob." Luke sat down next to her, despite having a bed of his own. "Tough first day?"
"I don't belong here," Percy said honestly, glancing around. She had never felt more like an outsider before. "I don't... I don't know. I still don't know if I believe in gods. It's just... rather bizarre to comprehend."
"Yeah," he said. "That's how we all started. When you actually start believing though? It doesn't get any easier."
Luke's bitter voice surprised her, but she didn't comment on it.
Casting her mind around for a topic, she blurted out, "So your dad is Hermes?"
"Yeah. Hermes."
"The wing-footed messenger guy."
"That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors."
Percy shifted uncomfortably, though it seemed to escape Luke's notice. He probably didn't mean to call her a nobody. He was just thinking about a lot of stuff.
"Have you ever met your dad?"
"Once."
He didn't elaborate, and she didn't press it. She wondered if the story had anything to do with how he got his scar.
Luke looked up and managed a smile. "Don't worry about it, Percy. The campers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're extended family, right? We take care of each other."
He seemed to understand how lost Percy felt, and she was grateful for that, because an older guy like him—even if he was a counselor—should've steered clear of an uncool middle-schooler like her. But Luke had welcomed her into the cabin. He'd even stolen her some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody had done for her all day... except for maybe Will.
Percy could almost see why Annabeth, and so many other girls, had a crush on Luke, but she certainly wasn't one of them—she still found it weird that they would, considering that Luke was around nineteen years old, and Annabeth was twelve.
Of course, if Annabeth was truly the daughter of Athena, she must've known that nothing could've happened between her and Luke, which made Percy feel a little bad for her, to be honest. It wasn't her fault she ended up crushing on Luke. She couldn't control her emotions. But either way, she'd either end up broken-hearted or in a very questionable relationship, and neither of those options sounded good.
Luke must've noticed the expression on her face, because he asked, "You okay?"
"Um... yeah. I actually had a question, though." She had meant to ask Will about it, but had completely forgotten, but she decided that Luke was pretty nice and would answer her question too. "Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me being 'Big Three' material. Then Annabeth said I might be 'the one.' She said I should talk to the Oracle. What does she mean?"
Luke folded his knife. "I hate prophecies."
"What do you mean?"
His face twitched around the scar. "Let's just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until... somebody special came to the camp."
Percy stayed silent. Will had told her that Annabeth had always wanted to get a quest, that it had always been her dream to leave, but he had never mentioned the "somebody special" part. Was it because he didn't think that she was the special person, or was it because he did think she was, but he didn't want to scare her?
"Don't worry about it, kid," Luke said. "Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for. Now, come on, it's dinnertime."
The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance. Somehow, Percy knew it was a conch shell, even though she'd never heard one before.
Luke yelled, "Eleven, fall in!"
There were about twenty or so people in cabin eleven, and they all filed into the commons yard. Because they lined up in order of seniority, Percy, of course, was dead last, which just added to her humiliation. She was behind an eight year old kid who looked at her and sniggered, making her wonder, as they passed the lake, whether or not she could just drown herself.
From the other cabins emerged campers too, all lining up in the same way cabin eleven had, but four of those cabins remained just as empty. The three from the beginning of her tour—Zeus, Hera, and Poseidon's—and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime, but was beginning to almost glow silver as the sun set.
As they marched up the hill toward the mess hall pavilion, Percy glanced all around her, wishing she had eight more pairs of eyes. Satyrs were leaving their meadow to join the campers for dinner, naiads were emerging from the canoeing lake, clad in their shimmering t-shirts and jeans that looked strangely dry, and nymphs were literally coming out of the trees—Percy watched, open-mouthed, as one little girl, perhaps about nine or ten, melt from the side of a maple tree and skip up the hill.
In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a couple dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads.
As all of cabin eleven's campers crowded onto a single table, which, like all the others, had a white tablecloth trimmed in purple covering it, Percy wondered, annoyed, why the camp couldn't just... get bigger tables. Mr D had created a wine glass out of thin air, right? Why couldn't he just snap his fingers and make the tables bigger? Only cabin eleven seemed to have the problem, so maybe it was because it didn't inconvenience any of the other cabins, but it was hard to convince herself of that with half her butt hanging off the seat.
Uncomfortable seating aside, Percy did have to admire the strange beauty of the pavilion. Now that it was being used, torches were ablazed around the marble column, flickering in the cool, gentle breeze. There was a central fire that burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub, the coals glowing red and black.
At table twelve, Grover, who still looked rather miserable and wouldn't look at Percy who was trying to catch his eye, was sitting with Mr D, a few satyrs, and a couple of blond boys who looked quite similar to Mr D, while the other satyrs were fanned around the table or helping the nymphs with the food. Chiron stood, in full centaur form, next to the table, since it was way too small for him.
Looking around, Percy caught sight of Will, who was sitting at table seven with a bunch of other blonde kids, who, other than their looks, looked like a strange assortment of kids. Some of them were wearing lab coats, some had semi-full or empty quivers slung across their backs, and some had medical tools hanging from some sort of strange belt. The Apollo table was rather full, and they were one of the loudest too, laughing and joking with each other, acting almost like a true family. Will caught her staring and winked, and Percy's face went red as she glanced away, wondering why she was blushing.
In her attempt to look away from table seven, Percy's eyes landed on table six, where Annabeth was sitting, along with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her gray eyes and honey blonde hair. Though Annabeth sat at the head of the table, clearly the leader, Percy noted how strange it was to see, because Annabeth looked like one of the youngest in her cabin. Still, she remembered Grover telling her something about how Annabeth had been at camp for the longest, so perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised.
Her eyes then slid over to table five, where a wave of dislike suddenly washed over her. It was Clarisse's table, but she had apparently gotten over being hosed down by Percy, because the older girl wasn't even paying any attention to her, laughing and belching right alongside her siblings. Though seeing Clarisse more carefree and not threatening to rip her head off was a nice change for once, and Percy found herself almost smiling slightly.
Finally, when it looked like everybody had settled in comfortably and were ready to start dinner, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. Everybody looked at Chiron with expressions of complete alertness, catching Percy off guard, but she tried to school her expression and looked at Chiron too.
He raised a glass. "To the gods!"
Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"
Percy fumbled over those words, still rather uncomfortable with saying something like that considering she hadn't believed in gods about five hours ago, but she was sure that not saying anything was probably worse than saying it poorly.
Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue! Percy's stomach rumbled, but amidst the chatter and laughter from all the tables, the sound was, thankfully, unheard by all but her.
Percy's glass was empty, but Luke, from across her, said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want—nonalcoholic, of course."
She stared at the empty glass, trying to figure out what exactly she wanted when she could have any drink in the world, when she settled on, "Cherry Coke."
The glass filled itself with sparkling caramel liquid.
Then she had an idea. "Blue Cherry Coke."
The soda turned a violent shade of cobalt. The campers around her gave her a weird glance for that, but Percy didn't pay them any attention.
She took a cautious sip. Perfect.
She drank a toast to her mother.
She's not gone, Percy told herself. Not permanently, anyway. She's in the Underworld. And if that's a real place, then someday....
"Here you go, Percy," Luke said, handing her a platter of smoked brisket.
Her mouth watered at the smell, but she managed to keep from drooling as she loaded her plate. She had just been about to start eating when she noticed that none of the other campers at table eleven had even touched their food. Instead, they were watching the other campers from the other cabins walk up to the fire and murmur something, though Percy couldn't hear what. All she saw was their lips moving. And then they would drop a portion of their meal into the fire.
Upon closer inspection, she realized that they were dropping the best parts of their meal—the ripest strawberries, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll. As she watched, Annabeth tossed in an entire slice of olive-and-pepperoni pizza, and Will dropped the reddest, shiniest apple into the fire.
Upon seeing her quizzical look, Luke explained, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell. We're supposed to do it by the order of the cabins, so cabin one is supposed to lead, followed by two, three, and so on. Since we're eleven, we're basically last, save for table twelve, of course."
Percy found herself wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food.
Soon, it was cabin eleven's turn. Getting up would've been almost comedic if it hadn't been so embarrassing. With roughly twenty squeezed on a table meant for only twelve at the maximum, everybody was tripping over themselves, trying to get off their seats. Percy nearly fell over when someone's arm smacked her in the back. Somehow, she managed to straighten and half-walk, half-run after the rest of the group without dropping her plate.
Luke, of course, went first, and somehow, while everybody was lining up, Percy had been shoved second. Panicking slightly, she tried to pay attention to what Luke was doing lest she messed up. He bowed his head as he approached the fire and tossed in a closer of fat, red grapes, murmuring, "Hermes."
So they were supposed to say who their godly parent was as a way to offer them their food. Percy wished she knew which god's name to say.
But people were waiting behind her, so she ended up making a silent plea. Whoever you are, tell me. Please.
She didn't exactly have time to pick out the best part of her brisket, so she made it up by scraping an extra-large slice into the flames.
When she caught a whiff of the smoke, she didn't gag.
It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. She could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke.
In another split-second decision, Percy dropped a buttery roll into the fire as well, murmuring Hermes' name. She was staying in his cabin, after all, and sacrificing a portion of her meal to him in thanks was probably the least she could do. She wondered if any of the other undetermined kids did that too.
At last, after the last two blond boys from table twelve had finished and returned to their tables, everybody took that as a sign to start digging into their meal. Percy found that she had been absolutely starving, since this was her first meal in quite a few days. As she filled up her belly, she found herself happy enough to even start trying to strike up a conversation with the other campers sitting at the table.
After everybody had finished their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for their attention, and then silently gestured toward Mr D.
Mr D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."
A bunch of cheering and yells rose from the Ares table.
"Personally," Mr D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Pansy Johnson."
Chiron murmured something.
"Er, Percy Jackson," Mr D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."
Everybody cheered, and Percy joined in.
As everybody headed down toward the amphitheater, someone tapped Percy's shoulder.
She whirled around to see Will grinning at her, a ukulele in hand. "You seem to be fitting in alright."
"Yeah," she said, his excitement making her smile too. "Yeah, I guess."
"Come on," he said, taking her hand and tugging her with him, and his enthusiasm was such that he was almost bouncing on his heels. "I think you're going to love these songs—I like them, at least—"
Percy sat with the rest of cabin eleven while Apollo's cabin led a singalong. They sang about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, she didn't feel like anyone was staring at her anymore. She felt like she was home.
Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and they all filed back to our cabins. She didn't realize how exhausted she was until she collapsed on her borrowed sleeping bag.
Her fingers curled around the Minotaur's horn. She thought about her mom, but she had good thoughts: her smile, the bedtime stories she would read Percy when she was a kid, the way she would tell Percy not to let the bedbugs bite.
When Percy closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly.
That was her first day at Camp Half-Blood.
She wished she'd known how briefly she would get to enjoy her new home.
Starting from the sixth-to-last paragraph, I got too tired to actually edit everything, so most of that part is just taken directly from the text, and I changed "I" and "me" and those parts to just "she" and "her." Of course, I don't really like doing that, but it wasn't like there was that much to be changed anyway, and if I didn't do that, I probably would've put off editing this chapter for at least a few days.
Anyway, I tried to delve deeper into Percy and Will's friendship because I want them to be friends before going on the quest. I find friends-to-lovers way easier to write than enemies-to-lovers, but that's expected.
Anyway, reviews are appreciated, and thank you readers!