Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My name is Ari Jackson.

I’m twelve years old. I’m a leo. My favorite color is blue. My hobbies include being better than everyone and getting expelled from school.

Actually, that last one is less of a hobby and more of a curse.

More about me? Glad you asked! (If you didn’t, yes you did.)

I’m currently attending the illustrious reform boarding school Yancy Academy. Well, I say ‘illustrious’ but that’s just what they want you to think. Truthfully, they’ll take anyone willing to pay the tuition. They really don’t put much thought into who they admit. That’s how a troubled kid as lower class as myself made it— though I’m currently on very, very thin ice. That’s how the klepto red terror known as Nancy Bobofit made it.

As if it wasn’t enough to be a snotty little brat, she had to start throwing chunks of her peanut butter and ketchup sandwich at the only other tolerable student for miles.

“I’m going to kill her,” I mumbled. “She is not pretty enough to be that horrible.”

Grover tried to calm me down. “It’s okay. I like peanut butter.”

He dodged another piece of Nancy’s lunch.

At present, I am trapped on a bus to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sitting next to me is my best friend, Grover Underwood. He was a weepy, scrawny boy with a wispy goatee and a rather unfortunate case of acne. He was excused from P.E. due to a muscular disease that made him walk weirdly. This made him an easy target to the tasteless bullies of the world such as Nancy. Never mind that he was actually really sweet and ten times smarter than everyone else here.

I narrowed my sea green eyes. “It took me forever to get your curls looking that good— not that you weren’t simply darling beforehand, but that’s not the point. I’m about this close to cutting up her shirt.” I let out a snort. “Honestly, I’d be doing her a favor. I mean, red hair and a hot pink top? Criminal. Absolutely criminal.”

Grover gave me one of his weird knowing looks again before shaking his head.

“You’re already on probation,” he reminded me. “You know who’ll get blamed if anything happens.”

“Ugh, fine. But if I lose it and deck her in the face, I expect you to tell the teachers that she hit me first.”

Mr. Brunner, the Latin teacher, was the one to lead the tour.

Now, you’d think he’d be super boring considering the subject he taught and the fact that he was a middle-aged guy who unironically wore tweed jackets and smelt like one of those independent coffee shops that does open-mic slam poetry. Fortunately for his students, however, boring was not in this dude’s vocabulary. He was really funny at times and often let the class play games. Plus, he had this totally awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons.

He was also one of the few teacher’s who I felt gave the slightest damn about me, so I didn’t really want to disappoint him. I didn’t care about once again earning the headmaster’s ire, but I would try to be on my best behavior on this trip for him and him alone.

I wondered which God I would have to sacrifice a goat to to put a temporary pause on my school-trip curse. Maybe Thoth? No, wait, we’re here for old Greek and Roman stuff. Let’s go with… Athena? Was she the right one for school-related stuff? Or maybe I should go with Artemis? I think she was supposed to be the protector of young girls, after all…

Mr, Brunner rode his motorized wheel-chair to the front to walk us through everything. Those neat-looking orange and black pots, the weirdly attractive marble statues, etcetera etcetera.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

My twitched as everyone around me chatted through Mr. Brunner’s explanations. Ugh, didn’t they know how rude they were being? This stuff was super cool…

“Shut up,” I hissed at them.

Tragically for me, this caught the attention of my pre-algebra teacher and the other chaperone of the trip, Mrs. Dodds.

Mrs. Dodds was a petite fifty-something year old from Georgia who always wore a leather jacket and for some reason hated my guts on sight and decided that Nancy was the greatest thing since pan dulce. For Jesus knows why, she would point her crooked finger at me and say, “Now, honey,” real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, she had me erase answers out of all math workbooks until midnight. I told Grover I didn’t think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, “You’re absolutely right.”

If I had an ounce more of pettiness in my body, I’d try to get her fired. Alas, I was smart enough to realize that trying to take her down would probably only end poorly for me.

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, “Will you shut up?”

“Miss Jackson, did you have a comment?”

I could feel the heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks. I said, “No, sir.”

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. “Perhaps you’ll tell us what this picture represents?”

My eyes flickered back to the stele and I resisted the urge to clap my hands in glee. I knew this one.

“Oh! That would be the titan Kronos eating his kids!”

Mr. Brunner prompted me to go on. “And he did this because…?”

“So, like, Kronos was the king titan dude, right? He got that spot because he, er— chopped off a certain body part belonging to his father, Ouranos, aka sky daddy—”

Mr. Brunner choked.

“—because his mom, Gaea, the Earth, was mad at Ouranos for locking away their children in Tartarus— which is like hell on steroids. Kronos chucked that specific body part into the sea, which, if I’m remembering right, caused the sea form that Aphrodite formed from. Anyway, Kronos heard this prophecy that said that his kids— the Gods— would overthrow him like he did his own father. So he ate them. Unfortunately for him, his sister-wife Rhea hid Zeus and instead fed him a rock. Eventually Zeus grew up and tricked his father into consuming some super gross drink and he chucked the Gods up. There was this massive battle and, spoilers, the Gods won. They sliced Kronos to pieces and scattered him throughout Tartarus.”

Mr. Brunner nodded in approval, having not expected such a thorough explanation.

“Yes, excellent job, Miss Jackson. Although, I would ask that in the future you do not refer to the Primordial God of the sky as… that.”

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, “Like we’re going to use this in real life. Like it’s going to say on our job applications, ‘Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.’”

“And why, Miss Jackson,” Brunner said, “to paraphrase Miss Bobofit’s excellent question, does this matter in real life?”

“Busted,” Grover muttered.

“Shut up,” Nancy hissed, her face even brighter than her hair.

“Uhh… Well, my takeaway has always been ‘There will be consequences to cannibalizing your kids,’ but I don’t think that’s what you meant…” I trailed off, ignoring the snickering around  me.

“I see.” Mr. looked disappointed. “Nearly full credit. On that happy note, it’s time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?”

There were some cheers and everyone began to head out. Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, “Miss Jackson.”

I groaned inwardly.

“You go on ahead,” I told Grover. “I’ll catch up.”

I turned towards Mr. Brunner. “Err— yeah, sir?”

Mr. Brunner studied me for a moment. “You seemed as though you had another answer to my question. I would like for you to tell me.”

I rolled my shoulders back and leaned on the balls of my feet. “Umm, well, I think… I think it relates to the idea of a self-fulfilling prophecy? I mean, if Kronos had, like, chilled out for a sec and not immediately jumped to chowing down on his own children, they probably wouldn’t have sliced and diced him. So… I think… um, you reap what you sow and stuff?”

Mr. Brunner looked at me thoughtfully. “You’re very close, Miss Jackson. I want you to further think on how your studies relate to your real life. You’re very good about absorbing what interests you, but what you learn from me is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Ari Jackson.”

I did my best to hide my irritation. That was completely uncalled for. Did he not see how hard I tried, despite my ADHD and dyslexia? I already had to work three times as hard as everyone else just to maintain my C- streak, but he still expected me to be just as good? No. He wanted me to be better than everyone else. As if I’ve been capable of that this whole time, I’ve just been too lazy to apply myself. As if I didn’t struggle at all to spell things correctly, or learn everyone’s names. Memorizing what little I could, no matter how much of an intense headache it gave me.

I did my best to spit out something about doing better while Mr. Brunner looked on mournfully at the funeral stele. If I were in a better mood, I’d crack a joke about how he’s so old, he must’ve known the girl that was for.

But I wasn’t. So when he dismissed me for lunch, I booked it in silence.

The first thing I did after spotting Grover sitting at the outside font fountain was nose-dive into his lap. I rested my head on his thighs and let out an undignified whine. I almost was grateful that Nancy Bobofit was too preoccupied trying to pick-pocket some poor, unsuspecting tourist lady to notice me.

Grover, well-used to me by now, looked at me with sympathy. “Detention?”

I shook my head slightly. “Nah, Brunner wouldn’t do that. Unless I, like, killed a man or something. He just… I don’t know why he thinks I’m capable of so much more than I am. I don’t get how he doesn’t realize that I’m always giving a hundred as is. I’m just… I can’t give more when I don’t have anything left.”

Grover didn’t say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, “Can I have your apple?”

I snorted, which soon turned into a fit of chuckles. I lifted my head up from his lap, still laughing. “Sure, dude. Whatever you want. But you’ve gotta let me braid your hair again.”

We adjusted positions and I began to gently tug on the ends of his soft brunet curls to get them into place. I would only do a few small braids here and there. I didn’t want him to get teased too badly. I didn’t understand why people got so upset when boys had long or plaited hair. I always thought braids looked good on everyone. Braiding someone else’s hair was my preferred method of absolute affection.

I hummed as I absentmindedly braided, looking out over at traffic. Soon my thoughts drifted towards my mom. The apartment was a little ways uptown from the museum. I briefly considered hailing down a taxi and going home. She told me I’d be glad to see me, but she’d be disappointed, too. She’d send me right back to Yancey, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my six school in six years and I probably was going to be kicked out again. I wouldn’t be able to stand the sad look she’d give me.

I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends— I guess she’d gotten tired of stealing from the tourists— and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover’s lap.

“Oops.” She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get food on your boyfriend .” She then noticed the braids I’d done in his hair. Her grin got even nastier than usual. “Or should I say girlfriend ?”

She and her disgusting friends snickered.

“How dare —”

I was cut off by the sound of Nancy screeching.

I don’t remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain.

“Ari pushed me!”

I jumped slightly as Mrs. Dodds seemed to teleport next to us.

“Did you see—”

“—the water—”

“—like it grabbed her—”

I hadn’t the slightest idea what they were talking about. I just knew that somehow this would be my fault. Great. I was gonna be in trouble again and I didn’t even get the satisfaction of actually doing something to warrant discipline.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc. etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I’d done something she’d been waiting for all semester. “Now, honey—”

“If I’m gonna be in trouble for something I didn’t even do, can I at least actually get to push her in the fountain?”

That wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Come with me,” Mrs. Dodds said.

Grover tried to hop to my rescue, claiming it was him who pushed her in the fountain.

“Let it go, dude. We aren’t gonna win this one. Thanks, though.”

“Honey,” Mrs. Dodds barked at me. “Now.”

Nancy Bobofit smirked. 

Ugh, I hated that… female dog.

I mentally flipped her off  before— Holy frijoles, how did she get to the top entrance so fast? I knew that sometimes my ADHD would cause my brain to miss things, but I’m half convinced this woman can materialize to places at whim. That would be my luck, though, wouldn’t it.

I trudged my way up the stairs to Mrs. Dodds. I glanced back at Grover and did some finger-guns to reassure him, but that only seemed to heighten his anxiety. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

“I’m just gonna say right now that I don’t have the money to buy Nancy a new shirt,” I told Mrs. Dodds as we made our way into the museum. But we didn’t seem to be going towards the gift shop. Actually, we were heading in the opposite direction, back towards all the Greek and Roman stuff. When we finally got there, the gallery appeared to be completely devoid of life, save for the two of us.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

“Er— are you okay, ma’am? Do you need a cough or something…” I asked, a mix of genuinely concerned and more than a little on edge. At least I wasn’t taking up too much space…

I bit my lip to keep from asking more questions as Mrs. Dodds gave her best threatening death-glare at the frieze.

“You’ve been giving us problems, honey,” she said.

I shrunk into myself, trying to look smaller and less punishable.

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. “Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

She can’t hurt me. Chill out. She’s a teacher. She can’t hurt me. They’d never allow that…

Thunder shook the building.

“We’re not fools, Ari Jackson . It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain.”

Uh… what?

“Is this still about the fountain? Because I swear, I really didn’t touch her—”

Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her finds stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn’t human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me into ribbons.

As if that wasn’t absolutely buck wild enough, Mr. Brunner wheeled in out of nowhere, holding out a pen.

“What ho, Ari!” He tossed the pen towards me.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

“This totally cannot be legal!” I yelled as I dodged her attempt to disfigure me. I barely managed to snatch the pen mid-air, but the moment I grabbed on to it it was no longer a pen. I recognized this. It was the bronze sword Mr. Brunner used on tournament days.

“WHY DO YOU HAVE— HOW— WHAT—”

Mrs. Dodds spun towards me with a murderous look in her eyes. 

“Die, honey!”

And she flew straight at me.

I, not wanting to die, did the first thing that came to mind.

I stuck her with the pointy end of the blade, which passed through like a hot knife through soft butter. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

I was alone.

There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner wasn’t there. Nobody was there but me.

My knees buckled and gave out. I was on the cold marble floor of the exhibit, shaking uncontrollably. I pulled myself into a ball and choked back the tears threatening to spill. I allowed myself a few more minutes to calm myself down before struggling to get up. I took several deep breaths and forced myself away from the room.

When I got back outside, it had begun to rain. 

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, “I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt.”

I ignored her, not bothering to ask who the heck Mrs. Kerr was, and planted my face in the crook of Grover’s neck before beginning to sob. Everyone froze as they witnessed the sight.

“Is Jackson crying?”

“Damn, Kerr must be way stricter than we thought—”

Grover let out something that sounded almost like a mix between a squeak and a bleat and patted me on the back. “Ari…” He trailed off.

Mr. Brunner wheeled over and asked if I was alright and if he could have his pen back.

Was… was he serious? 

“Mrs. Dodds… where did she… Did I…”

Did I murder my pre-algebra teacher?

Mr. Brunner frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. “Ari… who is Mrs. Dodds?”

I blinked rapidly and wiped away my tears with the back of my hand before putting the ballpoint pen in his still outstretched hand. “Umm… The other chaperone… math teacher… You…”

YOU'RE THE ONE THAT GAVE ME THE DARN SWORD.

Mr. Brunner’s expression grew more worrisome.

“Ari, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you certain you’re feeling alright?”

…Was it too late to take that taxi to my Mom’s?

Chapter Text

The cumulative stress of the whole “I murdered my math teacher so hard that she literally disappeared from everyone’s mind” debacle had certainly taken it’s toll. For the rest of the year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr— a blonde woman who I’ve never seen before in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip— had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was a psycho.

I was at the point where I genuinely believed that they had no clue who the heck I was talking about. Everyone— including perky Mrs. Kerr herself— really did believe wholeheartedly that Mrs. Dodds never existed. I myself was nearly at that point. Except for one outlier.

Or should I say straight-up liar!

Grover Underwood was good at many things. He could always tell how others around him were feeling and the best ways to approach them. He was amazing with plants and animals. He even had some musical talent. But lying? He couldn’t convincingly lie his way out of a paper bag. He hesitated whenever I brought up Mrs. Dodds then stuttered through telling me she didn’t exist.

Grover was real freakin’ lucky I adored him so much, because him trying to make me feel like I’m crazy kinda had me wanting to chuck him into the Hudson. He was also lucky that I knew despite his crappy gaslighting, I knew he wouldn’t cave. That boy would probably willingly take a dive into the river before telling me, for whatever reason.

Before I knew it, the weight of the situation had my already less-than-stellar grades slipping well into the point of no return. All one had to do to see the amount of Fs I gave was look at my report card.

Which was apparently all of them!

Thus, I was practically cursed to be perpetually moody and irritable. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class. Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Good riddance, if you ask me. I was gonna be with Mom again. I could wear makeup and paint my nails at public school. I wouldn’t have to deal with stupid Nancy Bobofit or accidentally murder any more teachers…

I guess if I was going to miss anything, it’d be Grover. I’d never had a best friend before him— let alone a friend in general. I loved Grover a lot— though not in the gross mouth-guitar kinda way. More like a brother-sister, if I had to guess. I don’t know, I don’t have any siblings as a point of reference but I for-sure don’t want to take his hand in holy matrimony or anything that might lead up to that.

Oh, Grover. How would he survive next year without me? Half of the fights I got into were protecting him…

Mr. Brunner would be a bit of a loss too, despite his weird insistence that I should be better than everyone. His tournaments were the most fun I’d ever had in a class and all and all he was just… kind to me. Unlike any teacher I’ve ever had, he always believed that I was capable. Even though I’m not.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

It was time’s like this that I was grateful my roommate had successfully petitioned for a room change and leaft me with a room to myself. It was taking every ounce of patience in my body to not throw my Greek mythology book across the room then curl in bed just to cry for the rest of the night. Definitely not something I wanted other people to see.

Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, as if performing a ballet number. I couldn’t remember the difference between Charon and Chiron. If you asked me if Athena or Anthea was the goddess of wisdom, I couldn’t answer and be one-hundred percent certain. I’d only remembered certain characters and stories so well either because they stuck out or because of my mother’s bedtime stories— and even then, the only story I had full and complete confidence in was Theseus and the bull of Minos. Everyone and everything else? Forget it! And don’t even get me started on Latin verb conjuntioning. I might as well not bother at all.

But…

I owed to Mr. Brunner to at least try, didn’t I? I’ve never felt comfortable enough with a teacher to ask them to help me, but I doubted Mr. Brunner would turn me away. If he saw that I put forth the effort and still utterly failed miserably, maybe he’d cut me some slack. Not that it mattered. I wouldn’t be his student again after this…

I clutched my book and practiced deep breaths as I made my way downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of the teachers appeared to be out, but luckily Mr. Brunner’s door was ajar with the lights on. Just as I was about to knock, I heard Grover, of all people, talking to Mr. Brunner.

“...worried about Ari, sir.”

I froze.

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult. I put one hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my increased breathing.

"... alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too—"

 "We would only make matters worse by rushing her ," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the child to mature more."

  "But she may not have time. The summer solstice dead-line— "

  "Will have to be resolved without her , Grover. Let her enjoy her ignorance while she still can."

  "Sir, she saw her..."

 "Her imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince her of that."

 "Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion.  "You know what that would mean."

 "You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Ari alive until next fall—"

My flight instincts kicked in and I booked it down the hall and up the stairs to my room. I desperately wanted to know what the hell they were talking about, but my body wouldn’t allow me. I slammed my dorm-room door shut and slid down to the floor, my book still clutched tightly in my hand.

I knew it… I knew I wasn’t crazy. I knew— I was right. Everyone else might have truly forgotten Mrs. Dodds, but Grover— and Mr. Brunner, somehow— didn’t. She was something called a… Kind One? (A bit ironic but maybe that's the joke.) I was in some kind of danger and those two knew about it and figured I was better off in ignorance.

…And what the heck is a summer solstice?

I pried myself off of the floor, threw my book onto my nightstand, and collapsed on the bed. This… This all was too much. I closed my eyes and counted to ten five times. Any thoughts of attempting to study soon died and before I knew it, I was passing out.

I dreamt of Mrs. Dodds that night.

I completely, utterly, and totally bombed the Latin exam, but that was to be expected, I suppose. The fact that the exam was three hours certainly didn’t help my case. I was on my way out when Mr. Brunner summoned me.

“Ari, don’t be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It’s… it’s for the best.”

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me.

I dug my nails into my palm to keep from crying.

“I mean…” Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth like he wasn’t sure what to say. “This isn’t the right place for you. It was only a matter of time.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I thought you believed in me?” I went on the defensive.

“No, no,” Mr. Brunner said. “Oh confound it all. What I’m trying to say… you’re not normal. That’s nothing be—”

“What did I ever do to you?!” Like a faucet, the tears poured.

Mr. Brunner’s eyes widened as he desperately began trying to damage control. “Ari, that’s not—”

But I was already gone.

I don’t know what why I expected Mr. Brunner to be any different.

When the last day of school came, I must have repacked my suitcase more than twelve times. The anxiety gnawing at me made it impossible for my clothes to be neat enough. 

The other girls ignored me as they talked about their summer plans. Even Nancy Bobofit deemed me beneath her notice. I stomped down the treacherous envy boiling inside of me as they talked about the shopping trips they’d take with their moms in Paris and Milan. One girl was going to a famous beauty salon in Hollywood that normally only took A-list movie stars.

They didn’t ask me what I was doing. They’d always excluded me previously, so it made sense that they wouldn’t bother now. I didn’t volunteer anything either. Why tell them that I’d probably try to scrounge up a summer job assisting the elderly or selling magazines.

At least I had more time with Grover before saying goodbye. We were on the same Greyhound to Manhattan. I rested my head on his shoulder as he fidgeted in his seat, glancing around everywhere as if there was something lying in wait to attack.

I nuzzled further into his side and sighed. “Grover. I’m probably the most dangerous thing on this bus. Calm down.”

Grover let out one of his whines. “What— what do you mean?”

“Oh, Grover. Did you know that you’re an awful liar?”

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. “Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer.”

The card was in a fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

“See, I’m not trying to knock whoever named it, but doesn’t that sound kinda racist? Half—”

Grover shushed me before I could finish.

“Don’t say it aloud!” He yelped. “That’s my, um… summer address.”

I blinked in surprise. For some reason I didn’t expect Grover to come from money like the others at Yancy. “Grover, you didn’t tell me you were a member of the bourgeoisie. I can’t come over to your summer mansion. Once I see it, I might have to eat you.”

He cringed. “Please… if you ever want to see me… or… or if you need me…”

I impulsively started braiding his goatee with a raised brow. “Need you?”

Grover blushed right down to his Adam’s apple. “The truth is, I— I kind of have to protect you.”

I stared at him.

All year long, I’d gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I’d lost sleep worrying that he’d get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me.

“…Am I on drugs right now or did you just claim to be my protector?”

His blush deepened.

“What even would you be protecting me from? Because I don’t seem to remember you being there when I was attacked by the math teacher from hell.”

Grover shifted in his seat. “You have no idea…”

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we’d all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.

I glanced around over at our surroundings. We were deep in country right now. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pit of socks I’d ever seen. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

Each of the three women looked as though they might’ve witnessed the crucifixion of Christ, their silver hair pulled back with white fabric. Their frames were near skeletal and were covered by white Cotten dresses. For some reason, they were all looking directly at me.

I smirked and looked towards Grover, “Hey, they what you’re protecting me from?”

But Grover didn’t laugh or even whine. His nose was twitching and his face wore an expression that told me he was debating on throwing himself into traffic.

“Tell me they’re not looking at you. They are, aren’t they?”

I looked over at them then back at Grover. “It would appear so. Damn, those socks are huge. Hey, do you think they’ll sell one to me? If I cut a hole on the bottom, I could have a sick tube-dress.”

Grover looked at me as though he were about to cry. “You aren’t funny, Ari.”

“You’re right. I should use it as a sleeping bag instead.”

The lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors— gold and silver, long-bladed, like sheets. I heard Grover catch his breath.

“We’re getting on the bus,” he told me. “Come on.”

I mock-gagged. “Ew, no way. It’s, like, a million degrees in there. I’ll drown in my own sweat.”

Grover let out a hysterical noise before prying the door open. “Please.”

“Alright, fine. But if we get banned from the Greyhound, you’re paying for my alternative ride home, Mr. I-Have-a-Summer-Home,” I grumbled as I climbed in after him. I could have sworn I heard a snipping sound nearby.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

“Darn right!” Yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. “Everybody back on board!”

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I’d caught the flu.

Grover didn’t look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

“Grover, buddy, if we were about to die, you’d tell me right?”

“…”

“Grover?”

“…”

“You know, your silence isn’t instilling a lot of confidence in me about our friendship.”

He dabbed his forehead with his short sleeve. “What did you see back at the fruit stand?”

“What, the sock-ladies? What— oh, geez. This isn’t another Mrs. Dodds situation, is it?”

I was once again met with silence before he clenched his fist. “Please, Ari. Just tell me what you saw.”

“Look, dude, I don’t know what you want from me. I stopped looking at the same time you did,” I told him. I mean, there was that weird snipping noise, but that didn’t seem important. Besides— if he and Mr. Brunner were gonna keep things from me, it’s only fair I get some things to myself.

“Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me.”

He looked so pathetic and desperate that I couldn’t help but grab his hand in reassurance.

“What a gentleman! Alright, but you’ve gotta meet my mom. I’ve never introduced a friend to her before. You’ll be the first.”

Grover sent me a smile full of relief and squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Ari.”

I won't lie— I briefly considered ditching Grover at the bus terminal. His anxiety was causing his bladder to act up, as it often did, so the moment we got off the bus he booked it to the restroom. It wasn’t because of anything he did— okay, his paranoid mumblings were getting a tad concerning, but ultimately I decided against it. I already told him I would introduce him to Mom. I couldn’t wait to see how proud she’d be of me when she saw I made a close friend. Maybe that’d soften the disappointment at my expulsion.

So I waited. When he returned we got our bags and I hailed us a taxi uptown.

“You’re going to love my mom,” I told him. “She’s the greatest person in the world! She makes the best chocolate chip cookies, but I think you’ll be more interested in her enchiladas— which are also the best!”

Grover smiled and seemed the calmest he’d been all day as I gushed about my mother.

“She works at a candy shop, right?”

“You remembered!” I beamed. I’d probably talked Grover’s ear off about Mom at least ten times by now, but I appreciated that he seemed genuinely interested every time.

I’d never told him about my father. There wasn’t much to tell, after all. Mom didn’t talk about him very much and I only ever asked once. When I was seven, the teacher asked the class to share what our parents did for work. When it was my turn I told them what my mom did and a classmate asked about my father. That was the first time I put any thought into the topic. I went home to ask my mom and I vividly remember her dropping her bowl of star soup.

She told me he was a rich and important man and they couldn’t get married or else it’d cause a scandal. Then he set sail on some kind of odyssey across the Atlantic and just never came back. Lost at sea. That’s how she referred to it. Specifically not dead. Just lost.

I believed that when I was younger. I’ve grown more suspicious of that as I’ve gotten older. That man better be dead, actually. I’ve heard the way some of the girls at Yancy talked about their fathers’ “mistresses.” They always pin the blame on the other woman, and not their rich and powerful daddies who always break their heart. My mother was a sweet woman. It wouldn’t surprise me if she believed the man she loved if he said he was going on some boat quest across the sea.

Yeah. My father better be at the bottom of the ocean. Because if he isn’t and I ever find him, I’m gonna put him there myself.

Oh, wait. I guess I technically have a stepfather.

Smelly Gabe, I call him. The actual embodiment of sweaty gym jerseys and moldy onion and anchovy pizza.

Smelly Gabe was a degenerate who by some miracle managed to keep a job managing an Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, despite barely ever being there and blowing all his money on disgusting beer and tobacco.. He’s the opposite of Mom in every way possible. I can’t believe Mom and I bought into his nice-guy act at first— why she stays with him is the mystery of the century. I swear to any and all gods, if I ever find out that he’s hit Mom or something…

Honestly, bio-dad can get in line. If I’m putting anyone’s body in the ocean, it’s the butt-face formerly known as Gabe Ugliano.

“So, uh,” I nervously curled my hair with my finger. “There’s a chance we might run into my stepfather. If that’s the case, just wait outside while I put my suitcase away. I’ll bring my mom out and we can talk in the halls.”

Shout-out to Grover who merely gave me an understanding look and gently patted my shoulder. “Sounds good to me, Ari.”

Chapter Text

I walked into our little apartment, hoping my mother would be home from work. Instead, smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet. 

Disgusting. If I ever got married, it would never be to a man like Smelly Gabe. I would rather die.

Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, “So, you’re home.”

I didn’t bother forcing a smile. “Hello, Gabe. Mom home yet?”

“No. Where’s the cash?”

“Oh, you know,” I twirled the ends of my hair. “You know me. Saw the cutest blue-raspberry lip-gloss on my way home and I just couldn’t help myself! What can I say? A girl’s gotta look good.”

Actually, I had about ten bucks hidden in my bra. But he didn’t need to know that.

Eddie, Gabe’s buddy and the apartment’s super, laughed. “You’re just like my daughter. When she was your age, I’d have to hold on to my wallet for dear life if she saw something she liked. Kid was practically drowning in lip-gloss and hair extensions.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s cute,” Gabe scowled. “I thought I told you no more spending my money on stupid stuff?”

I bit back the vicious reminder that it was my mother’s money, you rotten, no-good, balding son of—

“Listen, it’s been real sweet catching up, but I gotta drop my suitcase then dip for a hot minute. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh, really? Now just where do you think—”

I quickly chucked my suitcase in what was technically my room, but was actually Gabe’s filthy junkyard that he called a study. I all but flew out the door. “Byeeeee~”

I was utterly delighted at the sight of Grover and my mother chatting when I stepped out. My mom was still wearing her red, white, and blue work uniform.

“Mom!” I ran over towards my favorite person and threw my arms around her. “Mom, this is my friend, Grover Underwood! Grover, this is my mom— dude, are you okay?”

It was then that I noticed the matching grave expression on their faces. “Er— is everything alright…?”

“Ari,” she said carefully. “Have you unpacked yet?”

I blinked in confusion. “Uh, no? I just put my suitcase in the room—”

Mom looked as though she was doing her best to keep herself together. “Wait out here with Grover, baby. I’m going to go get it for you. Then we’re going to go somewhere. I promise I’ll explain in the car.”

She kissed the top of my head and went back into the apartment. I turned to Grover, whose face was practically dripping with guilt.

“Grover…” I said slowly. “What did you say to my mom?”

"I'm sorry," I started, sitting in the passenger's seat of Gabe's '78 Camaro, "do you mind running all of that by me again? Because it almost sounds like I heard you say—"

"You heard him right, Ari," Mom said softly, eyes glued to the road.

"Uh-huh... You know, I once heard this French word in that psychology elective I took. I think it was called Folie à deux—"

"We aren't delusional. Ari," Grover said with more gusto than I'd ever previously heard from him.

"Well, considering how much of a terrible liar you are— along with the fact that you have the backbone of chocolate Éclair—"

"Blaa-aa-aa, there's no need to insult!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Grover! It's either you're delusional or I cook you into birria! If the absolute nonsense you two just told me is real, that means that you tried to convince me I was crazy about Mrs. Dodds for months! If that's true, then my entire world has been turned upside down because you just told me THAT THERE ARE GREEK GODS JUST CHILLING AROUND AND I HAPPEN TO BE THE DEMIGOD DAUGHTER OF ONE OF THEM AND THAT THERE ARE MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURES TRYING TO KILL ME BECAUSE I HAPPEN BE A DEMIGOD AND HAVE I MENTIONED I'M APPARENTLY A DEMIGOD?!"

I took a sharp inhale and put my head between my knees. "This is not real, this is not real..." I muttered my mantra like Dorothy trying to make her way back to Kansas.

Grover tentatively reached over from the back and patted me on the shoulder in reassurance.

I yanked myself away from his touch and looked over to glare at him. "I should have known it was too good to be true. Of course my first ever friend was actually forced to be around me..."

My "protector" gave me a sad smile. "Ari... For what it's worth, I really am your friend."

"And just how am I supposed to believe anything you tell me ever again?" I asked before sighing and turning to my mother, who had been oddly quiet this whole exchange. "So... summer camp, huh? What are we gonna do, sacrifice goats to Saturn for a good harvest? Have a race to see who can get turned into a plant after running away from Apollo the fastest? Oh, do I get to pet a chimera?!"

I'll admit... I may be getting a little hysterical.

"Ari, you should really stop. Names have power. You don't want to attract the wrong attentions... And the first god you mentioned isn't even Greek..." Grover warned.

"I'm sorry, Underwood, were you speaking to me?"

"Ari—"

"And names didn't seem to mean anything when we all had to say them in Latin class," I grumbled before it suddenly hit me. "Wait... you and Mr. Brunner were conspiring together the night before exams—"

"—How do you know that?!"

"—Don't worry about it— so does that mean our Latin teacher is also a satyr? That would explain the wheelchair..."

Grover shook his head, his mass of curls following him with each turn. "No, Ari. His real name is Chiron—"

"THE UNDERWORLD BOAT DUDE?!" I exclaimed in pure shock. Of all the characters in Greek mythology, that had certainly not been who I expected. What did the Underworld want with me? Oh my god (gods?), was I the daughter of Hades or something—

"That's that's with an a not an i, honey," Mom corrected automatically. "Chiron is the centaur trainer of heroes."

"Oh! He's that guy that taught Achilles, right? And... other... people... who I definitely remember... Yes... I payed attention in class... Wait, what the heck was Mrs. Dodds? Was she a god too?"

Grover shook his head. "She was what we call a Kindly One."

"What's a Kindly One?"

"They servants of the Lord of the Dead. They're the punishers of wrong-doers: murderers, thieves, oath-breakers..."

"Lord of the... Do you mean Ha—"

"DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" Mom and Grover shouted in unison.

I blinked and held my hands up in defense. "Okay... um, so, what exactly did I do to anger the god of death?"

"Well, actually, he's the god of the dead, not death. That's someone else." Grover corrected. "And... nothing, Ari. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all just one big misunderstand... Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster please?"

My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid— a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

"We're almost there," my mother said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please." I didn't know where there was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to
arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness—the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs went numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me—

There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded. I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time.

I tried to shake off the daze. I wasn't dead. The car hadn't really exploded. We'd swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in.

Lightning. That was the only explanation. We'd been blasted right off the road. Next to me in the backseat was a big motionless lump. "Grover!"

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!

Then he groaned "Food," and I knew there was hope.

"Ari," my mother said, "we have to ..." Her voice faltered.

I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

I knew exactly who it was without even having to think about it. I knew every mention of Ariadne in myth. How could I not recognize her brother?"

"The Bull of Minos..." I breathed.

My mother was shouting at me to get out of the car, but I was completely spaced out.

That was how I'd known him. I'd never even knew he had a proper name until this last school year. Mom had never called him by his name or referred to him as the Minotaur, only The Bull or the son of Pasiphae. Now I knew why. If names had summoning power, I wouldn't want to say it either. Though, growing up I'd always had immense pity for the Bull.

"Ari! Please! Climb out the passenger's side!"

Unless... I wonder...

I complied with my mom, but instead of listening to her instructions to bolt towards the camp line, I slowly walked towards the Bull.

'Names have power...'

"Ari, stop! What are you—"

'Please... In the name of my namesake, the goddess Ariadne... Let this work...' I chanted in my mind. 'Goddess Ariadne, let me reach him. ..'

"Asterion!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

Mom looked as though her entire world had just bust into flames.

"Trust me," I said to her.

The Bull froze before slowly stalking towards me.

He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine—bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes except under-wear—I mean, bright white Fruit of the Looms—which would've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns—enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener.

He stopped less a foot in front of my before kneeling down to get a good look.

"Asterion..." I said as kindly as possible.

His dark eyes went wide and he tilted his head. The Bull picked me up with one hand— not gentle, yet seemingly in a way that purposefully reduced potential body-squishing. He sniffed me and grew even more puzzled.

I did my best to keep my voice as soft and steady as if my life depended on it. Actually, it probably did.

"Oh, Asterion... when was the last time someone called you by your true name? Poor darling... Everything will be alright..."

With my free hand, I hesitantly reached over and gently caressed his surprisingly soft face and mane. "Sweet Asterion..." I cooed, "Won't you please let me down?"

Looking mildly dazed, the Bull complied. He kept large, round eyes glued to me.

I mustered up my imitation of my mom's most comforting smile. "You're so very good, Asterion. You've made me so proud."

The Bull— Asterion, that is, seemed to hang on my every soothing praise. He seemed... to yearn for it. And yet, he certainly hadn't expected it. My repeated usage of his true name in a loving tone had had its intended effect: the more I used it, the calmer and more agreeable he became. I wondered if he himself realized how starved for any scrap of affection he was.

I gently grabbed his large fuzzy hand and slowly brought the back of it to my lips. "Good Asterion... Be at ease..."

He now seemed completely enamored me; and I was grateful that it had worked. I glanced over to Mom, who was staring silently in shock. I suddenly remembered my unconscious best friend.

"Asterion, sweetheart, would you mind carrying Grover for a little bit? He's the hurt satyr. Just carrying, no eating, please... It would mean a lot to me, Asterion..."

With only slight hesitation, Asterion sniffed the air and obeyed. He began walking with Grover in one arm before picking me up once again, albeit with much more consideration for how much more delicate I was than him.

"Ari..."

I looked back at Mom again and sent a shaky smile. "Come see me soon, Mom."

With how fast Asterion walked, it wasn't long before her horrified and confused face was out of sight.

"Thank you so much, Asterion. You're doing such a great job."

He let out a deep moo-like snort of content as I scratched behind his ear..

'Thank you, kind and merciful goddess Ariadne...'

I had no idea if she'd actually done anything, but it seemed like a good idea to thank her either way.

Chapter Text

"So… you know what we’re supposed to do now?” I looked up at Asterion who was still princess-carrying Grover, who was beyond unconscious from shock. Asterion gestures towards the gate that read, “Camp Half-Blood.”

”Well, yeah, I know, but… Are you allowed in there?”

The Bull shook his head. It was kinda cute, actually. The lack of anything but underwear wasn’t, though, and would need to be remedied ASAP. Maybe a blue tunic or something…

”I don’t think I could carry him… I guess we should just wait here until someone comes? I’m pretty sure they would know we were coming…” I reached into my bra and pulled out a pack of cards. "Do you know how to play any card games? I’m pretty good at go-fish."

The Bull shook his head, his ears flopping downwards in disappointment. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. He was really cute when he wasn’t feeling murderous.

"I know you understand what I’m saying, but can you physically speak English at all?" I asked, genuinely curious. It wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t. It’d probably be fun trying to teach him. If he genuinely was incapable, that was okay too. We could learn sign language together or something similar instead.

Before I could get an answer, an arrow went flying past Asterion’s head.

"Holy—" I jumped in front of Asterion, who was quite disgruntled about having his head used for target practice. "Shh, shh, it's okay, you're okay..." I looked in the direction of the arrow. A older-looking tall and scrawny boy with shaggy blond hair and a bright orange shirt was once again aiming directly at Asterion. "Will you put that down?! What is wrong with you?! Are you trying to kill someone!"

"Me?! What's wrong with you?! Do you not see the huge monster behind you?! Move out of the way, kid!" The boy's voice cracked a little when he called me a kid. Which was kinda rich, honestly.

"His name is Asterion and he's my friend! It's not his fault he's half bull! Don't be racist!" I chastised. Honestly! The nerve of some people!

Asterion seemed touched and little surprised to be called my friend. The confusion was fair, actually. Seeing as we met like a half hour ago when he was trying to kill me and all. What was it with me and only being able to befriend people who were part animal? Was there a god of animals or nature and the like? There probably was, all things considered. There seems to be a god for everything. I wonder if some nature god is my dad...

The boy choked in shock and tightened his grip on his bow. "Are you actually insane?"

"I'm not! One of my schools had me tested!" That was true, actually. It happened two years ago in the fourth grade. "My friend Grover is hurt and passed out. Asterion can't make it past the camp line, but he's too heavy for me to carry. Can you help me?"

He slowly lowed his bow but didn't take his eyes off of Asterion. "Grover? As in, Grover Underwood?"

I nodded and gestured towards his sleeping figure. "The satyr, yeah. I promise Asterion won’t hurt you. Isn’t that right, Asterion?" I cooed. His bovine ears twitched in delight as he let out a soft huff. I took that as a sign of agreement.

A look of recognition flashed over the boys face. He finally seemed to relax. "Ah. You must be one of her daughters. Alright, but you’ve gotta keep that… thing close to you. Keep telling him to relax." He slung his bow over his shoulder and made his way towards us.

"He has a name. Speaking of which, you haven’t given me yours."

"Neither have you. And yeah, there’s no way I’m ever addressing that thing. Not up to putting myself in that kind of danger. But… Hmm…" The blond put two fingers on Grover’s wrist before doing some more examinations. His effortless movements told me he’d done this at least a thousand times before. "Yup. He’s alive, alright. Doesn’t seem to have any serious damage… Just a few contusions… Heart rate’s stable… I won’t know for sure until he wakes up, but he seems fine. Your bull friend over there probably spooked him into passing out."

He looked me over with only his eyes and frowned. “I don’t know how you normally look, but right now you look terrible. You should get checked too. I can do it or I can ask one of my sisters, if you’d prefer."

I shook my head, black waves hitting my face. I appreciated his consideration, though. "I feel fine. Thank you, though… And how dare you. I always look immaculate— even when I don’t."

Weirdly enough, I did feel fine. I mean, the was still the whole emotional weight of the situation, but despite being in a wreck I physically felt okay. A little sore, but a lot better than I thought I’d be. Maybe it was an adrenaline rush keeping me from the worst of it, but I didn’t feel comfortable with him— or anyone else I wasn’t familiar with— giving me some kind of check-up unless absolutely necessary. I loved being touched by people I liked. Anyone else? Hated it. Especially when it was a guy I didn’t know. It reminded me of when Gabe’s creepy friends looked for any reason to hug or otherwise make contact with me.

"Suit yourself; but do make sure to stop by Cabin Seven if you notice anything off." The boy picked up Grover, his knees wobbling a bit before settling. He was a lot stronger than he looked. It made him significantly more attractive. Blond and strong. The best combination. I briefly wondered if he had a girlfriend (and if she could fight) before shaking the curiosity off. I thought that about literally every cute blond. This one wasn’t anything special and was too old for me anyway.

"I’m Lee Fletcher," he said, finally. "Son of Apollo, head counselor of cabin seven."

Apollo… that was the sun, archery, and medicine guy, right? I think poetry might have been thrown in there. I don’t know. It didn’t seem very consistent. It was like Apollo picked a handful of random domains out of a hat or something.

"Ari Jackson. Daughter of… not a clue, to be honest."

"I’ve got a few," I heard him mutter. "C’mon. We should get you checked out too. Say goodbye your… friend."

Asterion did not seem to like the idea of me leaving. He let out a disgruntled moo-like sound that made his displeasure well known. He stepped in front of me, glaring at the now sweaty Lee.

”H-hey, can you tell it to calm down?” His voice cracked about four times as he asked.

I placed a hand on one of Asterion’s large arms and gestured for him to lean down. He merrily complied and seemed to melt as I scratched behind his ears.

"I have to go to camp now, okay? Be good for me, alright?"

He let out a pathetic-sounding hum and I couldn’t help but feel for the half-man. We might have only known each other for an hour max, but he clearly was starved for the companionship I’d provided in the time. I knew what it was like to not have any friends for a long time before finally getting one. If Grover had just up and left one day, I’d probably be inconsolable. Besides. I asked for and (I think) received the goddess Ariadne’s help. It’s only right I look after her brother. It was the least I could do.

Ugh. Curse my bleeding heart for fellow outcasts! 

"Aww, it’s okay, sweetie. I’ll make sure to come see you later. I’ll bring some food too! I hear they have some pretty sweet strawberries. Have you ever had them? They’re not as good as blueberries, but they’re really tasty."

Lee paled. "You aren’t serious—"

I ignored him and hesitantly placed a kiss on Asterion’s fuzzy cheek. Thankfully I only got minimal fur in my mouth from that. I spit what little got in my mouth out. "If any mean monsters come, you’ll take care of them, right?"

The Bull, slightly dazed by the affection, nodded. Lee sent me a look that was both suspicious and intrigued.

"I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can. With lots of strawberries. Don’t hurt anyone who comes to check on you. Can you be an extra good boy and do that for me?”

After receiving a hopeful nod, I let him go. Asterion plopped down by a large tree and began his waiting for me to return, his long tail thumping with anticipation. It was kinda cute. Like a puppy awaiting it’s family to come home from work.

I looked over at the slightly trembling son of Apollo, who seemed one more baffling instance away from joining Grover in dreamland. “Lead the way, Lee.”

”Finally,” he said with no shortage of relief. Once we made it past the camp entrance he made a point to turn to me. "You know that thing’s eaten people, right?"

"Would you rather he keep doing that or let me work with him and have him undergo a diet and attitude change?" I asked with a raised brow.

He stared me down for a moment before huffing. "If it ends up eating you, I don’t wanna hear about it."

"Keep calling him ‘it’ and I’ll drag you down with me like we’re a 2-for-1 combo meal."

Lee paled. "No way! It’s every demigod for themselves out here."

The more Lee talked, the more my budding crush on him dwindled. By the time he escorted me to the empty pouch of this place called, “The Big House” it had completely and utterly died.

Oh well. All that means is an opportunity to friendship! As soon as he starts being nicer to Asterion, that is…

Chapter Text

“…Ari… Ari? Ari Jackson!”

“Horse,” was all I could muster.

Mr. Brunner— no, Chiron— sighed. “Centaur,” he corrected in the same patient tone he’d use in class.

“Half-horse.”

First a satyr. Then the Minotaur. Now a centaur. What the heck was next? A mermaid? Oh, please, please let mermaids be real!

I wasn’t sure why I was so shocked. Mom and Grover had already given me a heads up. It wasn’t like Mr. Brunner being a centaur was new information or anything. I guess hearing about it and seeing it in person we’re two very different things. Although, there was one thing that was significantly more shocking than the half-horse thing…

“You… you look really good for someone who predates the common era. What kind of moisturizer do you use and where might I acquire some?” I asked in complete earnest. If Chiron was several thousand years old and only looked mid-forties I could not let him keep his skincare routine a secret from me. "It's Shiseido, isn't? No, wait! La Prairie? Clinique?" Those were some of the brands I'd seen the other girls at Yancy use that they had most definitely stolen from their moms. I couldn't afford any of those things now, but one day I will!

Chiron opened his mouth to respond before closing it. A fond smile overtook his face. "I’m glad to see you alive and well, Ari.”

“Yeah, well, turns out I’ve got a gift for not dying. Guess I’m not a daughter of a death god… Or maybe I am? Speaking of death, I’m gonna need about… I don’t know, maybe twenty pounds of strawberries to feed the little lad I acquired on my way here?”

The smile disappeared off of Chiron’s face and he let out a deep and exasperated sigh. Yet, somehow, he didn’t seem surprised by the turn of events. He instead looked almost like he was expecting this kind of headache. “Ari… you cannot keep the Bull of Minos.”

“Actually, I can and I will. He’s just a little guy, Chiron. My homeboy. My homie. My pal. My amigo. My sweet cheese—”

Chiron let out another sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, his tail swishing in a manner that let me know he was positively vexed.

“Oh, come on! We keep Grover!”

“She has a point.” A masculine voice came out of nowhere. I turned around and saw a scruffy-looking man with thick dark curls, rosy cherubic cheeks, a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt and bloodshot watery eyes that seemed to… scream at me? I could explain it, it was like the more I looked into them the more I got pulled in and the shouting in my head got louder and louder. It was as if there were hundreds— no, thousands— of different voices arguing— no, they were singing? No, they were laughing—

I jolt as I feel the touch of someone’s calloused hand on my shoulder. I look up through the corner of my eye and see Chiron looking sympathetic at me.

“I know in most cases eye-contact is polite, Ari, but in this instance I would recommend keeping yours averted.”

I nod and squeeze my eyes as I rub my temples, trying to soothe my headache. “Hello sir with the crazy eyes. Nice to meet you. Thanks for agreeing with me— completely unrelated question, but have you ever considered wearing sunglasses? I just think you’d look neat in them for absolutely no reason whatsoever. They'd really pair well with this whole Vegas-dweller aesthetic you've got going on."

Chiron shot me a warning glare, but before he could chastise me the stranger let out a snort. I turn to face him again, although I keep my eyes away from his for too long. “Hello, my name is Ari Jackson. Please help me convince Chiron to let me keep my emotional support Minotaur.”

Chiron gives me another incredulous look. “Ari, this is—“ But he is once again cut off by the stranger’s snort. 

The strange man looked at me with both apathy and a hint of bemusement. He waved his hand, gesturing for me to plead my case.

”Well, for starters, he’s just a little sweetie! It’s not his fault he’s like this! He was literally trapped in a massive labyrinth and the only food he was given was people. And his step-father did that! What a jerk! Asterion didn’t asked to be born the way he was, and it’s not fair that he was treated like a monster from the very beginning. He wasn’t given a chance in life, wasn’t shown love or affection by most— if at all!” It broke my heart thinking of what poor Asterion must have endured, all alone in the deep, dark labyrinth. “And besides! I prayed to goddess Ariadne asking her to help me in reaching Asterion and I’m, like, eighty percent positive that she helped me. Remind me to build her a small shrine or something, actually. Pretty sure she saved my life.” I hummed in thought before putting my hand over my heart and looking back up at Chiron. “Please, Chiron. I know I can work with him. Just give me— give him a chance. He just needs a little Tender Love and Care!”

Chiron’s stare seemingly pierced my soul. He looked pensive, and somehow it felt like he wasn’t thinking about Asterion. “Your mother would be proud, I think.”

“Her mother would find it horrifying.” The scruffy looking man said with an eye roll. "Although, she might find it amusing her initial shock..."

I looked between them both with a confused look. “You know my mom? When did you meet her?”

Chrion cleared his throat. “It is not up to me, Ariadne.” He glanced over at the man who looked like a recovering alcoholic. His use of my full name puzzled me. Chiron never called me by my full name. I knew he was upset about the whole Minotaur thing, but was the usage of the Government Name really necessary? 

The stranger stiffened and sighed deeply, looking mildly irritated. “You know good and well what you just did there.” He tore his annoyed gaze from Chiron and focused back on me. “You should thank your mortal mother next time you see her. It’s because of her cleverness that I’m allowing this.”

”Now, now, Mr. D. I think we both know why you’re really allowing this.” Chiron said with an almost teasing smile. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with a certain princess.”

The man apparently known as Mr. D scowled like he'd just bit into a lemon and finished off his Diet Coke that I could have sworn he wasn’t holding earlier. “Whatever. Go figure out the logistics of giving the Bull some strawberries and a comfortable place to sleep.” Mr. D gave me an appraising look. It gave me the heebee jeebees. "Cabin Eleven... for now." With those cryptic words Mr. D left us.

…I have no earthly clue what the heck just happened, but I think I won? Oh well! A win is a win!

"Wow. Mr. D looks really scruffy, but he's actually pretty nice!" A good reminder not to judge a book by its cover. He kind of reminded me of Gabe at first, but I think I like Mr. D.

Chiron looked at me as though I sprouted a second head. "Ari Jackson, you are probably the first to think so in a very long time."

My shoulders made rice crispy noises as I shrugged and stretched. "I like him, I think! Is he a demi-god, too?"

My former Latin teacher got a weird look on his face. "He was... once."

"...That makes so much sense, thank you."

Chiron sighed. "Ari, who is the godly husband of your namesake?"

I stared at him blankly before my eyes widened. "No."

"Yes."

"No. There's no way—"

"I'm afraid it is true, Ari."

"...Huh. I thought he'd be cuter."

After the devastating blow that was learning that Dionysus wasn't a major hottie like I had hoped (seriously, talk about crushing my dreams), Chiron gave me a tour of the camp leading up to the cabins. There appeared to be twelve of them— one for each of the Olympians. Even those without any children got an honorary cabin. Something about that bothered me.

"Wait. In class, we talked about all sorts of gods. There's like, hundreds of them other than the main twelve. What about Hestia? Or Hypnos? Or Ha—"

"Names have power, Ari." Chiron said sharply. "They... do not have cabins."

I blinked slowly. "Do none of them have any half-bloods running around ever? Why don't they have their own cabins? Shouldn't everyone here be all gung-ho about the goddess of victory or something? Or the god of getting a pebble out of your shoe that's been stuck there for hours?"

He grimaced, clearly unsure of how to answer my question. "They do have children."

"...And? Why don't they get cabins but the gods without kids do?" This whole thing seemed... really unfair.

"...And over there, we have Cabin Ten, Ari! You'll make a lot of friends there." Chiron said softly, completely glossing over what I just said.

"What's Cabin Ten? Or, rather, who? I thought I was staying in Cabin Eleven? Who is Cabin Eleven, by the way?"

"Cabin Ten belongs to the goddess of love and beauty." I could see why Chiron would think that's where my friends would be! Oh my gosh, I had to meet the kids of Aphrodite and see if they had any tips for painting those cute little flowers on my nails! "And Cabin Eleven is for the children of Hermes."

"Oh! My father is the god of travelers and merchants and thieves and stuff?" Hermes had a bunch of other responsibilities, but from what I gathered he was mainly Olympus' UPS guy. Honestly, I hadn't even considered him but I'm not complaining! "Not at all what I expected, but I can work with that—"

Chiron cut me off. Rude. "No, Ari. You have not been claimed yet. Cabin Eleven hosts the children of the messenger god, yes, but also the other unclaimed children." The centaur leaned down to pat the top of my head. "But I am certain that you will be claimed soon." He had this knowing look in his eyes that I couldn't quite pin-point.

My head tilted to the side, wavy hair tickling my shoulder. "I feel like everyone around me knows something I don't and is refusing to share with the class."

Chiron began to respond, but I stopped paying attention when I spotted the bright red monstrosity that was Cabin Five. Whoever painted and decorated it needed to be shoved off of a cliff, because it was a total eyesore. The bright red paint looked less as those as had been painted on and more like it had been assaulted with buckets of red paint that nobody ever bothered to clean up. Holy frijoles, was that actual barbed wire? What? Why?? 

Oh. Oh my god... Gods?

That boar head better be fake. Do not even get me started on the utter barbarity that was occurring amongst its inhabitants. The loudest of these biker and body-builder wannabes was a tall and large girl who looked around my age— maybe a two or three years older. Her camo vest clashed horribly with her bright orange camp shirt, which wasn't helped by her long, split-end riddled dirty-dish blonde hair being held back by that hideous red bandana. Hmm... if she cleaned herself up a bit and reevaluated how she styled things... Some lip-gloss and a haircut and she could totally be the next Xena! There were plenty of guys who were in to tough girls, after all. If I were a boy, I'd probably think she's cute. She spotted me and gave me a nasty look. I smiled and waved at her, which prompted her to to make a neck-slicing gesture with her thumb.

Hmpf! The girl had potential to be a total muscle babe, but if she was going to be like that then whatever! I tuned back in to Chiron, trying to brush off the negative experience with that horrible girl.

"...Ah, Silena, there you are!"

I turned to where Chiron was nodding towards and my jaw dropped. There, walking towards us, was a cute and stylish girl who appeared to be around fourteen. Her loose black hair was silky and shiny with two small braids keeping her hair out of her face. Her eyes were kind-looking and blue— but I couldn't pin-point an exact shade. Every time I settled on cerulean or lapis or sapphire they would seem to switch hues. When she approached, I couldn't resist subtly inhaling. I recognized the scent as Love Spell from that grown-up bra store at the mall. I'd only ever managed the courage to go in once, and I snuck the tester spray papers in my hoodie pockets. Mom found them when doing laundry, but she hadn't been mad. She had only laughed and told me it would be a while before I could buy anything from there.

This girl must have been really mature to be able to wear that kind of body spray. I only wore the discount store's knock-off of Cucumber Melon. I wonder if I could convince her to let me borrow hers on special occasions.

"Oh, hey, Chiron?" Silena turned to me and gave me a smile that almost melted me. Dearest Lady Aphrodite, please let me look like Silena when I grow up! "And who might this be? A little sister of mine come to join us?"

Oh, please. Please be my big sister.

Chiron shook his head. "She's unclaimed... for now. Silena, this is Ari Jackson. Ari, this is Silena Beauregard: head counselor of Cabin Ten."

"Sup." I waved awkwardly, not knowing what to do around the coolest girl I have ever seen.

Silena's smile got even kinder towards me before she gave Chiron a knowing look. "Gotcha. Well, I'll take her from here and show her around some more, Chiron. I believe you've got an archery class to teach."

"That I do. I will speak with you more later, Ari." He smiled at the two of us before trotting away.

I shifted nervously before blurting out, "You're very pretty!"

Silena laughed. Her laughter reminded me of wind chimes. She placed a gentle hand on my back before leading me towards Cabin Eleven. "You're very pretty too, Ari! Now, what's this I'm hearing from Lee Fletcher about you taming a Minotaur..."

Chapter Text

“This place needs a paint-job. Bad.” I muttered in horror.

Cabin Eleven was… well. It was very much a cabin. I looked at the peeling brown paint, trying not to gaze longingly and the beautiful blue, white, and pink Cabin Ten— oh good gods, was that a pair of white doves cuddling on Ten’s windowsill? CUTE!

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying anything too… impolite about the Hermes cabin.

Silena gave me a sympathetic rub on my back. I had to resist the urge to lean in closer to her. She gently guided me inside. “You’ll be alright, Ari. You shouldn’t be here for too long.”

I struggled to hide a grimace as I observed the interior. The dusty floor was littered with sleeping bags next to the proper bunks. Boys, girls, and a few in-betweens all stopped to stare at me. Rude.

“That’s her. That’s the girl who charmed the Bull—”

“What is she doing here? Surely, it’s obvious—”

“Hermes’ domains include language and trickery. It’s entirely possible that she—”

Silena cleared her throat and gestured towards me. “Everyone, say hello to Ari Jackson. She’s our newest camper.” Her voice was soft and reassuring. The look she gave me seemed to say, ‘Don’t be shy.’

I raised a hand and did an awkward wave. I wasn’t used to being looked at the way these kids stared at me. Sure, I had become accustomed to exasperated looks over my time in the American public school system, but these people were looking at me with… I didn’t know if there was a word for it. Calling it curiosity seemed both too polite and yet too inaccurate.

“Regular or undetermined?”

“Undetermined for now.” Silena’s voice remained gentle even amongst the sea of groans. She shot the worst offenders a scathing smile and they seemed to wilt from discomfort. 

Silena was a goddess in disguise, I’d bet my blue raspberry lip gloss on it. She was like the awesome older sister I always wanted— the kind that would let me tag along with her friends and the mall and help me fit in more.

“Nice to meet you all, too.” I said dryly. I couldn’t stop my eye from twitching. Does it look like I want to be unclaimed? Does anyone want to be unclaimed?

“Now, now, campers. That’s what we’re here for. Welcome, Ari. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there.” 

I looked over at the boy who spoke and I literally had to pick my jaw back up. He was older than most of us— taller, too, with sandy blond hair, dreamy blue eyes, a handsome smile, and the ability to pull off cut-offs. He was muscular, but not too muscular. I had to resist gulping. He looked like he could very easily throw me over his shoulder. He had this scar over right eye that looked kinda gnarly, but honestly it only made him look hotter. Did he have a girlfriend? Or, worse— a boyfriend? Not that there was anything wrong with that! But if he had a girlfriend, I’d at least have a chance in… I don’t know, five or six years?

Silena gave me a knowing look— the kind girls always shared with their friends when they saw a hot person. Must. Not. Drool.

Ughhhh. He’s clearly too old for me anyway. But a girl can fantasize. And fantasize I shall! Time to picture him as a lifeguard~ Oh! What if I was the lifeguard— and a mermaid— a mermaid lifeguard!

“This is Luke. He’s the head counselor for the Hermes cabin. He’s going to look after you until you’re claimed.” Silena patted my shoulder, gently nudging me towards Luke.

I frowned at Silena’s words. Not that I didn’t want an excuse to be wherever this guy was, but Silena seemed really nice and I wanted to learn all of her hair secrets. Her curls were so bouncy and shiny… “I thought you were looking after me?”

Her hands were softer than satin as they turned to pat my blushing cheeks. Thank you, Mom, for blessing me with enough melanin to keep my flushed face subtle. “Yes, I will. But you’re going to be in Luke’s care most of the time. However, if you need anything and Luke isn’t around, you come straight to me, okay?”

I nodded before turning to Luke. Were it not for the hue of my skin, I’d probably look like a tomato. Hopefully a very pretty tomato… “How long do I have to stay in the Hermes cabin?” I cut straight to the chase.

“Good question,” Luke said. “Until you’re determined.” He gave me an appraising look that didn’t help with my reddened skin. “But a cute girl like you? You’ll be claimed in no time.”

A few of the campers rolled their eyes. I ignored them and silently prayed to the first god that came to mind (which, strangely, happened to be Poseidon) that I wasn’t a child of Hermes, because having to be Luke’s sister would be DEVASTATING.

“Can I at least bring Asterion?”

Several of the campers gave me either an appalled or shocked look when I asked. “What? Did I stutter?”

A boy with messy brown hair and mischievous eyes looked at me like I sprouted horns. “It eats people.”

“He is literally just a little guy. A little sweetheart. Mi chiquito bonito bovino. And besides! He doesn’t eat people anymore. Once I get him to pinky-promise me, he’ll be feasting on strawberries instead of human flesh. My little strawberry cow.” I cooed, thinking of how cute he’ll be in a crown of strawberry blossoms while he drinks a pink milkshake. Ohh, maybe I could get him a little strawberry-print tunic. I could match with him but mine could be with a cute blueberry motif… Oh, but how cute would he look with some seashells braided in his mane—

“Poor baby is starving! And I got permission from Mr. D to keep him. Like, I’m sorry you aren’t chill enough to hang out with the Minotaur, but I’m built differently.” 

That declaration did not make me a popular camper.

Chapter Text

I left Cabin Eleven shortly after my little spiel about my sweet bull friend, sensing that if I darkened their doorstep any more than necessary… (Would Chiron let them burn me at the stake? No, I don’t think so... Hopefully.) Luke followed me outside, his hand placed gently on my shoulder as if to shepherd me towards safety. We sat together in the middle of the U-shaped area of cabins, right beside the stone-lined fire-pit. A little girl with mousy brown hair tended to the flames. I gave her a brief little wave. In turn, she smiled kindly at me before we both returned to our respective activities.

“I’m thinking I should start by the order of the cabins.” I looked up at Luke, a notepad given to me in hand. “Process of elimination and all that. Cabin One is Zeus, isn’t it? Statistically speaking, I think he’s a safe bet.”

Luke got a strange look in his eyes that I didn’t have enough life-experience to read. He swiftly schooled his expression, shaking his head. “Ari, you cannot just say the names of the gods like that. And, besides, there has not been a child of the Lord of the Sky in many years. Trust me. You would know by now if it were him.”

“But isn’t he—”

“Trust me.”

That struck me as incredibly weird. I very distinctly recall my classmates in Latin class giggling at how much of a... floozy Zeus was. Did Hera finally manage to put a leash on him? Honestly, good for her. I'm not saying I approve of how she badly she reacted to her husbands numerous affairs, but I was extremely sympathetic. I mean, she's the literal queen of the gods! The goddess of marriage, too! It must have deeply wounded her to be tricked into a marriage with Zeus only to be repeatedly disrespected and undermined by her own husband. Not that an all-powerful goddess with a history of unjust homicide needed my pity, but I still felt kind of bad for her.

"Okay... so not Cabin One then. Not Cabin Two either, obviously. Cabin Three—"

"Also unlikely." Luke cut me off once more.

"Okay, so I can maybe buy Queen Hera putting her husband in stockade, but I draw the line at Poseidon keeping his pants on!"

I knew for a fact that Poseidon had the most children out of all the Greek Gods, followed by Zeus. There was a betting pool in Latin class about it! Everyone had bet on Zeus, but I felt it was too obvious so I bet on Poseidon and made, like, twenty bucks... Oh, if Poseidon is real, I should probably thank him for that... That felt like the polite thing to do.

'Thank you, Lord Poseidon, for being so promiscuous!' I prayed silently. 'I'll sacrifice a strawberry or something in your honor when I get the chance!'

Luke let out a strangled snort disguised as a cough. "I don't think anyone else plans on filling you in any time soon, so it might as well be me... But not today. I'll tell you later, promise." He gave me a roguish smile that had my heart stuttering.I could get lost in his blue eyes like my father allegedly got lost at sea. Which, in hindsight, was an absolutely bonkers excuse from my mother. I get that she might've had a hard time explaining the whole Greek gods are real thing, but really? She was a writer in a past life! Get more creative, Mom!

"I suppose I can forgive the delay." I hummed, moving on from Poseidon. "Cabin Four... Demeter? My thumbs aren't exactly the greenest, but we shouldn't cross her out yet. Let's cross out Ares, though. I am NOT jacked enough... also sweating is gross..."

Luke snorted as I went down the list. So far, there was Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Hermes. I was really hoping it was Aphrodite. "I mean, I'm pretty. I've got a lot of love to share... I'm charismatic, too! Even Asterion couldn't resist being my friend!" I left out the part where I seemingly had an easier time making friends with non-humans than actual people, but shhh. A girl could hope.

"You could be a child of Peitho, or another of Aphrodite's retinue." Luke suggested, staring intently at me. I blushed again, both mildly flustered and a little flattered that a handsome older boy like Luke was paying attention to me. “I could see it. But I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the daughter of the love goddess.”

”I’m probably not, though.” I sighed deeply and absentmindedly played the with dark ends of my ponytail. “I mean, I would have been claimed by her at this point, right? It’s been several hours…” I looked. Bright orange, a fire in the sky. My feet felt heavy as stone and it was a bit of a fight to keep my eyelids open.

Luke looked at me with sympathy and a hint of something else I couldn't quite I couldn't quite pinpoint. "Ari, some kids here aren't claimed by their parents for months or even years. Some are never claimed at all. The Gods have so many children that sometimes they forget about us. I need you to understand that it usually takes at least a few days for most kids— and even if you aren't claimed and have to stay in Cabin Eleven, that's not a failing on you."

Mom always made it seem like my dad (or, apparently, likely my other mom) loved me dearly. But how could that be the case if they haven't realize I'm at camp yet? "But... Shouldn't I try to do something for my parent to notice me?" I asked self-consciously.

Luke's gorgeous warm eyes turned steely. "No. You shouldn't have to do a thing. They're all-powerful gods, Ari. Nothing you do could ever truly impress them..." Luke sighed, shaking his head. He took a deep breath and then smiled at me once more. "Tell you what: I'll ask Silena at dinner here in a bit to join us tomorrow in testing out some skills. Just to see what you have natural talent in." He offered gently. I really hope he isn't my brother, but I hope I get one just like him once I'm claimed... or a sister like Silena. Would it be too greedy to ask for both?

"Alright. Tomorrow bright and early?" I held out my pinky.

Luke hooked our pinkies together. "I normally hate getting up at the same time as the Apollo kids, but I can make an exception for you."

"Break this promise and I get to eat your pinky." I warned sternly.

"...Maybe we shouldn't cross Ares off your list..."