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Chapter Text

"STOP!" Annabeth came from nowhere.

Kronos whirled to face her and slashed with Backbiter, but somehow Annabeth caught the strike on her dagger hilt. It was a move only the quickest and most skilled knife fighter could've managed. Don't ask me where she found the strength, but she stepped closer for leverage, their blades crossed, and for a moment she stood face-to-face with the Titan lord, holding him at a standstill.

"Luke," she said, gritting her teeth, "I understand now. You have to trust me."

Kronos roared in outrage. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"

I tried to move, but my body was frozen again. How could Annabeth, battered and half dead with exhaustion, have the strength to fight a Titan like Kronos?

Kronos pushed against her, trying to dislodge his blade, but she held him in check, her arms trembling as he forced his sword down toward her neck.

"Your mother," Annabeth grunted. "She saw your fate."

"Service to Kronos!" the Titan roared. "This is my fate."

"No!" Annabeth insisted. Her eyes were tearing up, but I didn't know if it was from sadness or pain. "That's not the end, Luke. The prophecy: she saw what you would do. It applies to you!"

"I will crush you, child!" Kronos bellowed.

"You won't," Annabeth said. "You promised. You're holding Kronos back even now."

"LIES!" Kronos pushed again, and this time Annabeth lost her balance. With his free hand, Kronos struck her face, and she slid backward.

I summoned all my will. I managed to rise, but it was like holding the weight of the sky again.

Kronos loomed over Annabeth, his sword raised.

Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She croaked, "Family, Luke. You promised."

I took a painful step forward. Grover was back on his feet, over by the throne of Hera, but he seemed to be struggling to move as well. Before either of us could get anywhere close to Annabeth, Kronos staggered.

He stared at the knife in Annabeth's hand, the blood on her face. "Promise."

Then he gasped like he couldn't get air. "Annabeth . . ." But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward like he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding. . . ."

"My knife." Annabeth tried to raise her dagger, but it clattered out of her hand. Her arm bent at a funny angle. She looked at me, imploring, "Percy, please . . ."

I could move again.

I surged forward and scooped up her knife. I knocked Backbiter out of Luke's hand, and it spun into the hearth. Luke hardly paid me any attention. He stepped toward Annabeth, but I put myself between him and her.

"Don't touch her," I said.

Anger rippled across his face. Kronos's voice growled: "Jackson . . ." Was it his imagination, or was his whole body glowing, turning gold?

He gasped again. Luke's voice: "He's changing. Help. He's . . . he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—"

"NO!" Kronos bellowed. He looked around for his sword, but it was in the hearth, glowing among the coals.

He stumbled toward it. I tried to stop him, but he pushed me out of the way with such force I landed next to Annabeth and cracked my head on the base of Athena's throne.

"The knife, Percy," Annabeth muttered. Her breath was shallow. "Hero . . . cursed blade . . ."

When my vision came back into focus, I saw Kronos grasping his sword. Then he bellowed in pain and dropped it. His hands were smoking and seared. The hearth fire had grown red-hot, like the scythe wasn't compatible with it. I saw an image of Hestia flickering in the ashes, frowning at Kronos with disapproval.

Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands. "Please, Percy . . ."

I struggled to my feet. I moved toward him with the knife. I should kill him. That was the plan.

Luke seemed to know what I was thinking. He moistened his lips. "You can't. . . can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can . . . can keep him controlled."

He was definitely glowing now, his skin starting to smoke.

I raised the knife to strike. Then I looked at Annabeth, at Grover cradling her in his arms, trying to shield her. And I finally understood what she'd been trying to tell me.

You are not the hero, Rachel had said. It will affect what you do.

"Please," Luke groaned. "No time."

If Kronos evolved into his true form, there would be no stopping him. He would make Typhon look like a playground bully.

The line from the great prophecy echoed in my head: A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. My whole world tipped upside down, and I gave the knife to Luke.

Grover yelped. "Percy? Are you . . . um . . ."

Crazy. Insane. Off my rocker. Probably.

But I watched as Luke grasped the hilt.

I stood before him—defenseless.

He unlatched the side straps of his armor, exposing a small bit of skin just under his left arm, a place that would be very hard to hit. With difficulty, he stabbed himself.

It wasn't a deep cut, but Luke howled. His eyes glowed like lava. The throne room shook, throwing me off my feet. An aura of energy surrounded Luke, growing brighter and brighter. I shut my eyes and felt a force like a nuclear explosion blister my skin and crack my lips.

It was silent for a long time.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Luke sprawled at the hearth. On the floor around him was a blackened circle of ash. Kronos's scythe had liquified into molten metal and was trickling into the coals of the hearth, which now glowed like a blacksmith's furnace.

Luke's left side was bloody. His eyes were open—blue eyes, the way they used to be. His breath was a deep rattle.

"Good . . . blade," he croaked.

I knelt next to him. Annabeth limped over with Grover's support. They both had tears in their eyes.

Luke gazed at Annabeth. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew . . ."

"Shhh." Her voice trembled. "You were a hero at the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium."

He shook his head weakly. "Think . . . rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."

Annabeth sniffled. "You always push yourself too hard."

He held up his charred hand. Annabeth touched his fingertips.

"Did you . . ." Luke coughed and his lips glistened red. "Did you love me?"

Annabeth wiped her tears away. "There was a time I thought . . . well, I thought . . ." She looked at me, like she was drinking in the fact that I was still here. And I realized I was doing the same thing. The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.

"You were like a brother to me Luke," she said softly. "But I didn't love you."

He nodded, as if he'd expected it. He winced in pain.

"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can—"

"Grover," Luke gulped. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing. . . ." Another cough.

He gripped my sleeve, and I could feel the heat of his skin like a fire. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it . . . Don't let it happen again."

His eyes were angry, but pleading too.

"I won't," I said. "I promise."

Luke nodded and his hand went slack.

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Then I woke up.

It was a strange place, dark, as in, it was pitch black.

I didn't know what to do, so I thought about what happened before I got here.

First, a year ago, I let Kronos take over my body. That was dumb of me. Second, he almost killed Percy and Annabeth. After that, I got control of my body again. I knew it wasn't long before Kronos got his true body and killed me in the process so I had to kill myself to get rid of him. Of course it was painful.

Then Annabeth told me I was a hero, I didn't believe her but I knew I couldn't tell her that. I told her I would try for rebirth but what I didn't say was that I was gonna wait for them. She said I push myself too hard, she's probably right. I asked her if she loved me, I already knew the answer but Percy needed to hear it. She said she didn't, what a liar, but I knew she only said that because Percy was there. I had nodded because I didn't want to call her out, for Percys sake. I had expected her to lie.

Grover tried to save me but I told him it was useless, because it was.

Afterward I made Percy promise to not let anyone go down my path. He looked like he agreed with me wholeheartedly but there was hesitation all the same.

Then . . . I died.

So, where am I?

"Hello."

I whirled to see who was talking to find nobody there.

"Sorry to startle you, but I needed to talk to you," the voice said.

I turned again to find a tall and beautiful woman in front of me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Emarixen, but you may call me Emmx," she, Emmx, replied.

"Why am I here? Where is here? Why do you need to talk to me?"

"That's a lot of questions, Luke Castellan, but I can answer them all," before I could say anything, she continued. "For why you're here, it's because I needed to talk to you before you went away. This place is a time before the beginning, which would be a little hard to explain to a mortal so please don't ask. And for your last question, I need to tell you about the future, just a little though."

I didn't say anything at first, trying to wrap my head around everything she just said.

"How do you know my name?" I questioned.

"I am the beginning so I know all names."

"You are the beginning?" my eyes widen when I realize. "You're a goddess!?"

"Yes."

I forgot how to speak. Why would a goddess want to talk to me? I've been trying to kill them.

"So, may I tell you about the future?" she asked which made me come back to reality.

"Sure," I responded.

"Wonderful!" She sat down crisscrossed, then I did the same, and she continued talking. "First off, when Percy is sixteen he will disappear around Christmas time because of Hera."

"Isn't he already sixteen?"

"We're before the beginning of world, he's not even born yet. Anyway, Hera will also take somebody from the Roman version of Camp Half-Blood. Six months after he is found, they will go and find Percy."

"Why six months?"

"Because that is how long it takes to make a flying ship. Now, before they leave I would suggest you go to Atlanta, Georgia and wait for a giant ship which you should, by then, know what looks like." She shifts the position of her legs from crisscross to under her. "You will then be there for most of their journey. When they get to Europe, Annabeth will leave the group for a little while. Then she will be falling into Tartarus with Percy being the only thing keeping her from truly falling. There are two things you can do, one, you can let them fall or two, you can use your legs to wrap around Percy and cut the string tied to Annabeths foot, Percy will then haul her up and you two will fall."

"Why are those my only options?" I complain.

"Because if Percy falls in by himself he will cease to have morals. As I was saying—"

"Why wouldn't he have morals?"

"His morals are: protect friends at any cost, but he will stop if his friends are scared or want him to stop. With no friends to stop him, he won't have any morals by the time he gets out. So, that's all the information you need I believe. But I do have a favor to ask you." She leaned forward as she said this.

Skeptically I asked, "What?"

"Okay, so, there are these two people, the one from the Roman camp that Hera kidnapped and this Latino elf-looking boy that he came to camp with, who the fates decided to make sure could never be together. So what I need you to do is tell the fates, 'it says to storm or fire, the world must fall not "the storm or fire must fall with the world."'"

I sighed, "sure, why not."

"Great!"

"I do have one more question though."

"Yes?"

"Why do I need to know all this?"

"Right, I forgot to tell you. Kronos tried to use his powers to go back in time but he failed . . . kind of."

I raised my eyebrow, "Kind of?"

"Yes, now you get to go back in time and try again. You'll be going back to June 13, 2006. Good luck."

Before I could get another word out I was waking up in my 19 year old body with memories that I shouldn't have. I knew it was gonna be a long road ahead and decided that since it was still dark I would get more sleep before continuing to live out a life I had already lived. And this time around I'm gonna fix everything because I already know the outcome of my actions and I won't let Percy get hurt like that again.

Starting with telling Kronos I'm not working with him anymore.

Chapter Text

When I woke up the second time it was still before everybody else. It was like that before I betrayed everybody too.

I then got up and got ready, starting my day like I used to.

Once I was done I saw the others waking up. The ones who I . . . betrayed. This time I was gonna do better.

After everybody woke up and got ready for the day I started us on our daily routine. Luckily, I had been at camp long enough, and knew what day it was, so I flawlessly took them to each activity.

First, I took us to breakfast and I tried acting like nothing was different but I also knew that if I did act a little differently they would think it's because I was scared for Percy. So, hopefully, they wouldn't question it.

And as far as I could tell, no one noticed.

I mean, we went through our daily tasks. Practicing fighting, chores, history. All of it and it felt good, but weird, to do it again. But I haven't done it in years so that might be why. I'm just glad that, for now, everything is normal.

By the end of the day, I had realized that I missed this, a lot. The routine, the people, the playfulness. I missed all of it. And I wasn't going to let them down again.

So when we got back to the rooms I made sure everybody got ready and went to bed on time. Afterward I just laid in bed thinking of a plan to fix everything before it happens.

So, to start off, I'm not gonna ignore Percy when he comes back like I did before. Second, or maybe I should do this first, I'm gonna tell Kronos I'm not helping him anymore. Third, I'm gonna get rid of backbiter, though I should probably do that before Percy comes back. Fourth, talk the others out of siding with Kronos, even though I was the one to convince them to join in the first place. I'll need a believable story for that though.

I might still hate the gods, but I'm going to make them mad without trying to kill them. And especially not by siding with Kronos, I don't feel like dying again. Dying sucks, zero out of ten, would not recommend.

Eventually I fell asleep.

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When I woke up I didn't feel rested. I didn't have any dreams or nightmares but I still felt like I hadn't slept in days.

But I knew I had to get up. Even if it was just to talk to Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.

So I went about normal business until it was afternoon. We had free time but Chiron was busy keeping the cabins from killing each other. I knew this from last time.

I went to the big house porch for no other reason than to talk to the people on the quest. Quite a different reason from last time.

When I walked to it, it had a great view, I could even watch the Hermes cabin from here, but I knew I had to wait. They would call.

Then I heard it.

"Luke!" Percy's voice called.

I turned, eyes wide. I may have been expecting it but it was still surprising.

"Percy!" I broke into a grin, no matter what he could always make me smile. I guess that's why I felt so bad. "Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"

"We're . . . uh . . . fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. And she said she didn't love me, like I said . . . thought, LiAr. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—"

"He's down at the cabins." My smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"

"I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into my line of vision. "What kind of issues?"

Just then what sounded like a stereo on max seemed to come to where ever they were.

"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" I yelled. I didn't find out last time so I guess I should have expected not to know this time either.

"I'll take care of it!" Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on!"

"What?" Grover said. "But—"

"Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" She ordered.

Grover muttered something but I couldn't understand it. Then it looked like he handed Percy the spray gun and followed Annabeth.

Percy seemed to readjust the hose so he could see me.

"Chiron had to break up a fight," I shouted to him over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, Percy. Word leaked out about the Zeus-Poseidon standoff." I might have been the one to do that, but, in my defense, that was before going back in time. "We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound." I've now called myself a scumbag twice, only once have I actually believed it. "Now campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus."

He shuddered probably thinking either about Charisse and her cabin being on his dad's side or Annabeth being on the other side because of her mom. Most likely the first one.

I hear Annabeth arguing with some guy then the volume going down.

"So what's your status?" I asked him. Just because I already know doesn't mean I can't be nice. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you."

He told me pretty much everything, including his dreams. I felt like a pile of trash, I felt so bad because this was all my—no this was all Kronos' fault . . . and mine, I feel really bad. The beeper went off signaling we only had a minute left.

"I wish I could be there," I told him. I was telling the truth. "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen . . . it couldn't have been Hades, at least not directly. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him. But gods can't take each other's magic items directly, so if it was him he would need a demigod."

"But who would help Hades?"

"I don't know," I said, trying to look troubled. "But remember Hades also has the helm of darkness which can turn him basically invisible. That makes him more dangerous and a greater suspect."

On the other side of the rainbow the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the sound of a moving vehicle.

"You'd better go see what that was," I said. "Listen, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good." And for the first time during this conversation, I lied.

"Oh . . . uh, yeah!" He replied. "Yeah, they've come in handy."

"Really?" I grinned, he was a terrible liar, but I'm glad he's not wearing them. "They fit and everything?"

The water shut off, I could tell because the mist started to evaporate.

"Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver," I called, though I'm sure my voice was getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just—"

But the mist was gone, and Percy's image faded to nothing.

That night I dreamt of Kronos I didn't remember much from it when I woke up, but I do remember when Percy was there. It started with Kronos saying Percy Jackson. Yes, the exchange went well I see but he was talking to Ares

Then to me he said And he suspects nothing?

Nothing, I replied. Though I must say, I won't be doing this anymore.

What do you mean? He said

I won't be helping you anymore, Crooked One. Scheme all you want, but I will not be part of it.

I could feel the anger coming off of him. But I knew I had to stay strong.

All this time, and you quit right before we win? We have everything. Zeus's anger has grown. Poseidon has played his most desperate card. And you wish to quit? I almost have both items in my hands and . . . He is here.

What? I pretended to be surprised. You summoned him?

No. I could tell all of Kronos's attention was on Percy. Blast his father's blood—he is too changeable, too unpredictable.

Oh, no. How horrible, I said sarcastically. He glared at me. I stared back.

The boy has brought himself hither, He finished. Then he said, so . . . you wish to dream of your quest, young half-blood? Then I will oblige.

The next morning I woke up I knew I wasn't going to get a good nights sleep for a while.

And for the next six days it was normal. Well, as normal as a camp for demigods can be when you're training to kill monsters so you don't die. And have horrible nightmares plaguing you so you haven't slept great in like a week. Plus everybody is trying to kill each other.

Yep, totally normal.

Chapter Text

On the twenty-first of June Annabeth and Grover came back.

Of course I was immediately concerned with the fact that Percy wasn't here . . . except for the fact that I wasn't worried even a little because I knew what he was doing because, thanks to the Kronos, I'm doing all this again.

Now, the others couldn't know this, they would ask questions, and if I answered truthfully, they would hate me. So, of course, when I went up the hill to congratulate them like everybody else, I asked in a concerned voice where Percy was.

Annabeth was the one to answer me, but that's probably because Grover looked super nervous and she was being a good friend trying to take the heat off him so he could get away. She had said, and I quote, 'he's on Olympus finishing things up.' To anyone who was not from the future, or on the quest, would think she basically said he was, or would be, dead. Luckily I know otherwise, or I would be very scared right now, or, y'know, be me, technically three years ago, also technically a month ago, and be hopeful he's dead. But no, I'm glad he's alive.

Welp, gotta prepare myself to act as normal as I can tomorrow. Also I need a nap, but I cannot have a nap, unless I wanna talk to Kronos, which I don't, so no sleep for me I guess.

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So as it turns out, I forgot Percy returned that night. If I had remembered that, I might not have been as suspicious looking.

See when I saw him I had such a surprised face I'm sure people were looking at me weird. Everybody else was surprised too so I blended in enough, but my mind was going oh shoot, oh shoot, I am not prepared, I am not prepared.

He had gone straight to his cabin which I am very much happy about.  

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The next day we celebrated them.

For tradition, they wore laurel weaths to a big feast prepared in their honor, then they led a procession down to the bonfire, where they got to burn the burial shrouds their cabins made for them.

Annabeth's shroud was very pretty—gray silk with embroidered owls—I heard Percy tell her it was a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up. I smiled thinking about how great friends they would become.

Now, Percy didn't have any cabin mates, since he was the son of Poseidon, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

I had grinned when I first saw it because I knew he would have fun burning it.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were surrounded by most of Hermes cabin, Athena cabin, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring his brand-new searcher's license.

I say most of Hermes cabin because I figured I'd stay back to give them some space. Not ignoring, I just know that they probably feel overwhelmed.

The only ones not in a party mood were Ares cabin, who's poisonous looks said they'd never forgive Percy for disgracing their dad.

At the end of it, we all retired to our cabins. And Percy didn't look as down as usual when he went to his.

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On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. The blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, the explode into a million colors.

I watched it alone but it was beautiful. Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, yes, is a demigod, he's a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware.

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July passed.

I spent my days hanging out with Percy and Annabeth. I had already betrayed Percy so his quest was complete I just need to make sure he doesn't know it was me. I don't think I can go through that again, especially since I need his trust.

Percy looked more uneasy as the days go on but how do I tell him it's me?

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The last night of the summer session came all too quickly.

The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, us senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

Percy got his own leather necklace, and when he saw the bead, even though the firelight covered most of it, I could tell he was blushing. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"The choice was unanimous," I announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea god at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Are's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause.

Percy however looked conflicted with his emotions, like he was happy and sad. I just wish I could help.

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The next morning we all got form letters. The same ones we get every year. I immediately went with a few other campers who already knew that they were staying told Chiron.

I then went to train knowing it's something I needed to do.

When Percy showed up I knew what I had to do and while I'm not a big fan of him knowing, if he figures it out I won't lie.

I didn't see him at first, busy destroying the dummies. When I finally saw him I was mid-swing. "Percy."

"Um, sorry," he said, embarrassed. "I just—"

"It's okay," I said, lowering my sword. "Just doing some last-minute practice." Somehow I'm even more grateful I decided to get rid of my other sword.

"Those dummies won't be bothering anybody anymore."

I laughed at the absurdity of it, he'd never have said something like that last time I saw him, especially to me, then I shrugged. "We build new ones every summer."

After he didn't say anything for a little I became even more glad I didn't have my half-steal sword.

I gave him a small smile, then slid my sword into its scabbard. "What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and all I could think about was the look he gave me right before I di- no, stop thinking about it. What's done is done.

I must have looked pretty shaken because when Percy looked back at me he said, "Yeah, sure."

He looked like he wanted to say more but knew better than to, which I'm grateful for, I'd rather not have to explain any of my . . . situation to him.

We walked down to the woods and kicked around for some kind of monster to fight, but it was too hot. All the monsters with any sense must've been taking siestas in their nice cool caves.

We found a shady spot by the creek where he'd broken Clarisse's spear during his first capture the flag game. We sat on a big rock and watched the sunlight in the woods.

After a while I said, "You miss being on a quest?"

"With monsters attacking me every three feet? Are you kidding?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I miss it," he admitted. "You?"

My face darkened, I knew it did, I didn't mean for it to but it did. This is your last chance. I knew the voice too well. But I refuse to ruin what I've been working at, to betray my friends again, to hurt Percy. Not again. People say my fatal flaw is wrath, well I'm a bit angry at Kronos. So if he thinks I'm gonna help him then he's stupider than Zeus.

"No," I answered finally. "I don't want to leave camp any time soon but that's for personal reasons."

"That makes sense."

We sat in silence for a while.

"Is something wrong?" Percy asked.

"What makes you ask?" I said, not wanting to lie to him.

"You've been different since I got back from my quest."

"Oh. That. Listen, I- well- um. You see- I- uh- shoot."

"So I'm right."

"Yeah, listen, Percy, it's not you I promise, I'm just . . . going through . . . some . . . things . . . It's nothing to be worried about, I promise."

He just eyed me wearily.

"Let's head back, yeah?" I asked.

"Tell me what's wrong first."

"Percy—"

"No, you've been looking at me weirdly since I got back I wanna know why."

I stared at him with a defeated look. I knew I was screwed the moment he noticed something was different. The problem is: what do I tell him without lying and without telling the truth.

"Please?" He asked.

I wanted to cry, to come clean, to tell him everything. But I can't, if he knows— he can't know.

"Not now."

"Then when?"

I thought on that, when would it be safe? The end of the war?

"A long time."

"Why?"

"Because it's not time yet."

He looked hurt and I almost broke but then he said, "okay, fine."

I was so relieved and I'm sure it showed. Someday I'll tell him everything but for now he's my friend and he trusts me.

Chapter Text

Now I know what you're thinking, what did I do all winter while Percy was gone? Well let me summarize it for you. I figured out a reason to have left Kronos that isn't, I don't wanna die or hurt my friends, and that reason is . . . trading multiple masters for one is stupid. Now I know it's not the best excuse but I just needed it to get the job done. Selina and a few others I had convinced before aren't following Kronos anymore. That's all I did, made up a semi-believable story and convince people to stop following Kronos.

But all good things must come to an end. And that end started at the beginning of the summer. See originally I had sent celestial bronze bulls to weaken the magical barrier protecting camp and it was Kronos idea so he doesn't know I knew what was going to happen.

So there we were, fighting bronze bulls when Percy, Annabeth, and the cyclops, Tyson?, showed up. Me and ten other armor-clad campers were fighting the bulls.

Clarisse shouted, "Border patrol, to me!"

At first you might think, 'we don't have a border patrol.' But ever since Thalia's tree got poisoned we've had one.

We were all scattered around and I saw Percy running up the hill toward Clarisse, who was yelling at us, mostly the others, she knew not to give me orders, trying to get us into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. The few who were listening, including me, lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking our shields to form an ox-hide-and-bronze wall, our spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.

Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster me and six other campers. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire. Annabeth ran toward us, trying to help. She taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, completely confusing the monster. The other bull charged our line.

Percy was only halfway up the hill-not close enough to help. Clarisse hadn't seen him yet.

The bull moved deadly fast for something so big. Its metal hide gleamed in the sun. It had fist-sized rubies for eyes, and horns of polished silver. When it opened its hinged mouth, a column of white-hot flame blasted out.

"Hold the line!" Clarisse ordered us.

Whatever else you could say about Clarisse, she was brave. She was a big girl with cruel eyes like her father's. She looked like she was born to wear Greek battle armor, and she was stronger than she looked.

Unfortunately, at that moment, the other bull lost interest in finding Annabeth. It turned, wheeling around behind Clarisse on her in protected side.

"Behind you!" Percy yelled. "Look out!"

Apparently, he shouldn't have said anything, because all he did was startle her. Bull Number One crashed into her shield, and our phalanx broke. Clarisse went flying backward and landed in a smoldering patch of grass. The bull charged past her, but not before blasting us with its fiery breath. Our shields melted right off our arms. They dropped their weapons and ran as Bull Number Two closed in on Clarisse for the kill.

I went to grab Clarisse but Percy beat me to it. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the straps of her armor. He dragged her out of the way just as Bull Number Two freight-trained past. He gave a good swipe with Riptide and cut a huge gash in its flank, I was really proud, I did teach him everything he knows, but the monster just creaked and groaned and kept going.

From how close Percy currently was to the thing, and from the fact I had been that close to it not long ago, he probably felt the heat just radiating off that thing.

"Let me go!" Clarisse pummeled his hand. "Percy, curse you!"

He dropped her in a heap next to the pine tree and turned to face the bulls as if he could kill them. It seems I need to keep him from dying more than I thought. They were on the inside slope of the hill now, the valley of Camp Half-Blood directly below them-the cabins, the training facilities, the Big House-all of it at risk if the bulls got past them.

Annabeth and I shouted orders to the others, telling them to spread out and keep the bulls distracted. During this I, of course, kept an eye on Percy, making sure I didn't need to save him. What did you expect? I have ADHD, of course I was gonna multitask.

Bull Number One ran a wide arc, making its way back toward Percy. As it passed the middle of the hill, where the invisible boundary line should've kept it out, it slowed down a little, as if it were struggling against a strong wind; but then it broke through and kept coming. Bull Number Two turned to face Percy, fire sputtering from the gash he'd cut in its side. Since they were automations they couldn't feel pain but it glared at Percy like he'd just made things personal.

Percy couldn't fight both bulls at the same time. I knew he was already thinking of a plan but I also knew he was accident prone. And, if I knew Percy, he probably didn't practice sword fighting all summer and was out of practice.

Percy lunged but Bull Number Two blew flames at him. He rolled to the side luckily escaping the fire. I decided I should probably help him when his foot got caught on a tree root right before he lopped off part of the monsters snout. It galloped away, wild and disoriented. I started over to him as he tried to stand and his left leg buckled underneath himself. It was probably sprained.

Bull Number One charged straight toward Percy. No way he could crawl out of its path. That's when I realized I wouldn't be able to get there in time to help him. Did this happen last time? Or was the fact that I'm here change what happened? Is Percy going to die because of me?

Then Annabeth shouted: "Tyson, help him!"

Somewhere near the crest of the hill, the cyclops—I guess his name is Tyson—wailed, "can't—get—through!"

"I, Annabeth Chase, give you permission to enter camp!"

Thunder shook the hillside. Suddenly Tyson was there, barreling toward Percy, yelling: "Percy needs help!"

Before I could do anything he dove between Percy and the bull just as it unleashed a nuclear firestorm.

"Tyson!" Percy yelled.

The blast swirled around him like a red tornado. I could only see the black silhouette of his body. I looked toward Percy and let out a grief sigh of relief that he wasn't touched by the fire at all.

When the fire died, Tyson was still standing there, unharmed and his clothes intact—luckily. The bull must have been surprised, because before it could unleash a second blast, Tyson balled his fists and slammed them into the bull's face. "BAD COW!"

His fists made a crater where the bronze bull's snout used to be as I finally made it to Percy. Two small columns of flame shot out of its ears. I helped Percy up and supported his weight so that he didn't put any pressure on his ankle. Then Tyson hit it again, and the bronze crumpled under his hands like aluminum foil. The bull's face now looked like a sock puppet pulled inside out.

"Down!" Tyson yelled.

The bull staggered and fell on its back. Its legs moved feebly in the air, steam coming out of its ruined head in odd places.

Annabeth ran over to check on Percy.

She gave him some Olympian nectar to drink from her canteen, which definitely helped with his ankle. I helped steady him as he put weight on his foot. Even as he got his footing good I kept my arm over his shoulders, just in case.

Looking at me with a smile, he said: "thanks."

I grinned at him. "No problem," I said, as if I didn't have years worth of stuff to make up for. And, sure, most of it won't happen but I did, technically, still steal Zeus's lighting bolt, summon a hellhound to harm or kill him, and give him shoes that were cursed to drag him into Tartarus. Not that he knows it was me that did those things, ha ha.

Then he asked Annabeth, "the other bull?"

Annabeth pointed down the hill. Clarisse had taken care of Bad Cow Number Two. She'd impaled it through the back leg with a celestial bronze spear. Now, with its snout half gone and a huge gash in its side, it was trying to run in slow motion, going in circles like some king of merry-go-round animal.

Clarisse pulled off her helmet and marched toward us. A strand of her stringy brown hair was smoldering, but she didn't seem to notice. "You—ruin—everything!" She yelled at Percy. "I had it under control."

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling. Annabeth grumbled, "good to see you too, Clarisse."

"Argh!" Clarisse screamed. "Don't ever, EVER try saving me again!"

I frowned at how she talked to Percy. "Clarisse, you've got wounded campers," I point out.

That sobered her up. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her command.

"I'll be back," she growled, then trudged off to assess the damage.

Percy stared at the cyclops. "You didn't die."

Tyson looked down like he was embarrassed. "I am sorry. Came to help. Disobeyed you."

"My fault," Annabeth said. "I had no choice. I had to let Tyson cross the boundary line to save you. Otherwise, you would've died."

"Let him cross the boundary line?" Percy asked. "But—"

"Percy," she said, "have you ever looked at Tyson closely? I mean . . . in the face. Ignore the Mist, and really look at him."

The Mist makes humans see only what their brains can process. As a son of Hermes I'm practically immune to it. But Percy being the son of Poseidon makes him especially susceptible.

He look Tyson in the face. It looked like it wasn't easy. I debated whether I should squeeze his shoulder to show that I'm there but decided against it.

"Tyson," Percy stammered. "You're a . . ."

"Cyclops," Annabeth and I said together.

"A baby, by the looks of him," Annabeth continued after giving me a slight side eye before she seemed to remember who I was and sheepishly looked back to Percy. "Probably why he couldn't get past the boundary line as easily as the bulls. Tyson's one of the homeless orphans."

"One of the what?"

"They're in almost all the big cities," Annabeth said distastefully. "They're . . . mistakes, Percy." I frowned at her calling them mistakes. From what I know they can be awesome, especially Tyson. "Children of nature spirits and gods . . . Well, one god in particular, usually . . . and they don't always come out right. No one wants them. They get tossed aside. They grow up wild on the streets. I don't know how this one found you, but he obviously likes you. We should take him to Chiron, let him decide what to do."

I nodded, it made sense. Besides, something I do know is that he stays around. Mainly because he was on that quest where I almost killed Percy. Wait, which one was that? I tried killing him on, like, all of them. The second one, maybe?

"But the fire," Percy started. "How—"

"He's a Cyclops." Annabeth paused, she looked like she was remembering our run in with a Cyclops. "They work the forges of the gods. They have to be immune to fire. That's what I was trying to tell you."

I let out a sad sigh, resisting the urge to hold Percy, to prove he was real, that I wasn't dead, that I wasn't still fourteen. To prove that I was twenty, and that Percy was thirteen, and everything would be fine.

I didn't have much time to think though because, just then, the whole side of the hil was burning. Wounded heroes needed attention. And there were still two banged-up bronze bulls to dispose of.

Clarisse came back over and wiped soot off her forehead. "Jackson, if you can stand, get up. We need to carry the wounded back to the Big House, let Tantalus know what's happening." She glanced at me, signaling she wanted me to help, but was too scared to demand me to.

"Tantalus?" Percy asked.

"The activities director," Clarisse said impatiently before I could answer.

"Chiron is the activities director. And where's Argus? He's head of security. He should be here."

Clarisse made a sour face. "Argus got fired. You two have been gone too long. Things are changing."

"But Chiron . . . He's trained kids to fight monsters for over three thousand years. He can't just be gone. What happened?"

"That happened," Clarisse snapped.

She pointed to Thalia's tree.

Every camper knew the story behind the tree. Six years ago, Grover, Annabeth, I, and another demigod named Thalia had come to Camp Half-Blood chased by an army of monsters. When they got cornered on top of this hill, Thalia, a daughter of Zeus, had made her last "stand here" to give her friends time to reach safety. As she was dying, her father, Zeus, took pity on her and changed her into a pine tree. Her spirit had reinforced the magic borders of the camp, protecting it from monsters. The pine had been here ever since, strong and healthy.

But now, its needles were yellow. A huge pile of dead ones littered the base of the tree. In the center of the trunk, three feet from the ground, was a puncture mark the size of a bullet hole, oozing green sap.

Yeah, Someone had poisoned it.

I remembered this. Kronos' idea, weaken the borders, get the demigods to get the fleece for him, steal it. Originally I had convinced him to let me heal the tree afterwards, but this time I won't have to. They'll retrieve the fleece and bring it back. They'll save Thalia.

Chapter Text

I'm sure Percy was feeling uneasy. Both because I felt uneasy, and I'd been there the whole time, and because he looked uneasy.

A lot had changed over the winter, fall and spring too I guess. With Thalia's tree poisoned, and the barrier weak, we've had to work hard to keep the monsters out. Plus all the blame was put on Chiron. Of all people! Now Tantalus, that guy that can't eat or drink, was activities director.

But, as I walked with Percy, Tyson, and Annabeth, I noticed, like I had been for awhile now, that everybody looking down.

This didn't seem to deter the Cyclops though. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. "Whatsthat!" He gasped.

"The stables for pegasi," Percy said. "The winged horses."

"Whatsthat!"

"Um . . . those are the toilets."

"Whatsthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabin—that brown one over there—until you're determined. Then, once they know, they you in your dad or mom's group."

Tyson looked at Percy in awe. "You . . . have a cabin?"

"Number three." He pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.

"You live with friends in the cabin?"

I frowned a bit. It felt wrong to let anybody stay by themselves. But there's nothing I could do about it. Unfortunately.

"No. No, just me," he said. He didn't elaborate. Which is understandable considering he wasn't supposed to be alive, and therefore meant that he was alone.

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags.

As soon as we saw him, Tyson froze. "Pony!" He cried in total rapture.

Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"

Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happened? You're not . . . leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a second father to her.

Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. And Percy, my goodness. You've grown over the year!"

He swallowed. "Clarisse said you were . . . you were . . ."

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr. D had to punish someone."

"Besides himself, you mean," Percy growled. The frown I had on deepened.

"But this is crazy!" Annabeth cried. "Chiron, you couldn't have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree!"

I nodded solemnly. I knew exactly who was responsible, and I knew he wouldn't be held accountable.

"Nevertheless," Chiron sighed, "some in Olympus do not trust me now, under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Percy asked.

Chiron's face darkened. He stuffed a book into his saddlebag while music (Frank Sinatra?) oozed from his boom box.

Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he wanted to pat Chiron's flank but was afraid to come closer. "Pony?"

Chiron sniffed. "My dear young Cyclops! I am a centaur."

"Chiron," Percy said. "What about the tree? What happened?"

He shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus."

"Then we know who's responsible. Kro—"

I stiffened a little when Percy almost said his name.

"Do not invoke the Titan lords name, Percy. Especially not here, not now," Chiron interrupted.

"But last summer he tried to cause a civil war in Olympus! This has to be his idea."

"Perhaps," Chiron said. "But I fear I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. The tree has only a few weeks of life left unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Chiron said. "A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock of the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago."

The Fleece, the Golden Fleece. That's what it was. And currently it was being held by a Cyclops.

"What is it?" Percy asked. "We'll go find it!"

Chiron closed his saddlebag. He pressed the stop button on his boom box. Then he turned and rested his hand on Percy's shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes. Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It's too dangerous. But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."

"Why?" He asked. "I want to do something! I can't just last the borders fail. The whole camp will be—"

"Overrun by monsters," Chiron said. "Yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life."

It was true. And my fault. Both last year and this year. This was most definitely a trap, Kronos wanted Percy to retrieve the Fleece from Polyphemus, then he could just take it from Percy. Of course it didn't work the first time around. I would know, I had been the one trying to take it from him back then . . . but at least that meant he probably wouldn't succeed this time too.

Annabeth was trying hard not to cry. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay with Percy, child," he told her. "Keep him safe. The prophecy—remember it!"

"I—I will."

"Um . . ." Percy said. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about?"

Nobody answered.

"Right," he muttered. "Just checking."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, which made him look up at me, and I gave him a small, reassuring smile. He gave me a smile back.

"Chiron . . ." Annabeth said. "You told me the gods made you immortal only so long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—"

"Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."

"I—I swear it upon the River Stix," Annabeth said.

Thunder rumbled outside.

I scowled slightly before fixing my face. I'm upset, yes, but I can't let them know I am.

"Very well," Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. Which is understandable considering what Percy gets himself into. "Perhaps my name will be cleared and I shall return. Until then, I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It's possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved . . . one way or another."

I feel bad for Chiron. Not just because he got fired for something that wasn't his fault, but also because he's trying to find a cure that doesn't exist. The only thing that can heal Thalia's tree is the Golden Fleece.

Annabeth stifled a sob. Chiron patted her shoulder awkwardly. "There, now, child. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director." He paused slightly, glancing at me. I nodded in understanding and agreement. "We must hope . . . well, perhaps they won't destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear."

"Who is this Tantalus guy, anyway?" Percy demanded. "Where does he get off taking your job?"

A conch horn blew across the valley. I hadn't realized how late it was. It was time for the campers to assemble for dinner.

"Go," Chiron said. "You will meet him at the pavilion. I will contact your mother, Percy, and let her know you're safe. No doubt she'll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger. Do not think for a moment that the titan lord has forgotten you!"

With that, he clopped out of the apartment and down the hall, Tyson calling after him, "Pony! Don't go!"

Once he was out of sight I turned to the others. Then, I grimaced.

Annabeth was crying. Tyson was crying, almost as much as Annabeth. And Percy was trying to calm Tyson down while probably trying to deal with his own emotions.

They were a mess.

————————————————————————

The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as the campers came up from their cabins. We stood in the shadow of a marble column and watched them file in. Annabeth was still pretty shaken up, but she promised she'd talk to us later. Then she went off to join her siblings from the Athena cabin—a dozen boys and girls with blond hair and grey eyes like hers. Annabeth wasn't the oldest, but she'd been at camp more summers than just about anybody. You could tell that by looking at her camp necklace—one bead for every summer, and Annabeth had five. She and I had been at camp for the same amount of time so I had the same. And we both led our respective cabins.

Next came Clarisse, leading the Ares cabin. She had one arm in a sling and a nasty-looking gash on her cheek, but otherwise her encounter with the bronze bulls didn't seem to have fazed her. (And I couldn't help but wonder if she had it worse last time.) Someone had taped a piece of paper to her back that said, YOU MOO, GIRL! But nobody in her cabin was bothering to tell her about it.

After the Ares kids came the Hephaestus cabin. Then: Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, Dionysus. Once the naiads started filing in I patted Percy's shoulder, gave him a quick smile, and went to lead my own cabin—Hermes cabin—to dinner.

We sat at our table, packed to the brim, because all the unclaimed and children not of the twelve Olympians were in the Hermes cabin too, not just Hermes kids.

As soon as the last campers had filed in, Percy led Tyson into the middle of the pavilion. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. "Who invited that?" Somebody at the Apollo table murmured.

I paused what I was doing. Did they really not immediately accept him since Percy was the one who brought him? I never knew, from what I'd seen last time, I thought they loved him.

From the head table Mr. D drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't Peter Johnson. My millennium is complete."

I rolled my eyes at his antics and watched the scene unfold.

"Percy Jackson . . . sir," Percy said through gritted teeth.

Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. "Yes. Well, as you young people say these days: whatever."

He was wearing his usual leopard-pattern Hawaiian shirt, walking shorts, and tennis shoes with black socks. With his pudgy belly and his blotchy red face, he looked like a Las Vegas tourist who'd stayed up too late in the casinos. Behind him, a nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skins off grapes and handing them to Mr. D one at a time.

Mr. D's real name is Dionysus. The god of wine. Zeus appointed him director of Camp Half-Blood to dry out for a hundred years—a punishment for chasing some off-limits wood nymph.

Next to him, where Chiron usually sat (or stood, in centaur form), was Tantalus—a pale, horribly thin man in a threadbare orange prisoner's jumpsuit. The number over his pocket read 0001. He had blue shadows under his eyes, dirty fingernails, and badly cut gray hair, like his last haircut had been done with a weed whacker.

"This boy," Dionysus told him, "you need to watch. Poseidon's child, you know."

I clenched my jaw. People always thought Percy was trouble, but really trouble just followed Percy, like it was his shadow. But Percy himself was a good kid.

"Ah!" Tantalus said. "That one."

His tone made it obvious that he and Dionysus had already discussed Percy at length.

"I am Tantalus," he said, smiling coldly. "On special assignment here until, well, until my lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you, Perseus Jackson, I do expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble."

"Trouble?" Percy demanded.

Dionysus snapped his fingers. A newspaper appeared on the table—the front page of today's New York Post. There was my yearbook picture from Meriwether Prep. It was hard for me to make out the headline, but I had a pretty good guess what it said. Something like: Thirteen-Year-Old Lunatic Torches Gymnasium.

"Yes, trouble," Tantalus said with satisfaction. "You caused plenty of it last summer, I understand."

I frowned. It wasn't Percy's fault the gods almost started a civil war. It was mine. No. It was Kronos's... no, it was both of ours. I'm very much at fault too.

A satyr inched forward nervously and set a plate of barbecue in front of Tantalus. The new activities director licked his lips. He looked at his empty goblet and said, "Root beer. Barq's special stock. 1967."

The glass filled itself with foamy soda. Tantalus stretched out his hand hesitantly, most likely because he thought it would run away.

"Go on, then, old fellow," Dionysus said, a sparkle in his eyes. "Perhaps now it will work."

Tantalus grabbed for the glass, but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops rolled away like quicksilver before he could touch them. He growled and turned toward the plate of barbecue. He picked up a fork and tried to stab a piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew off the end, straight into the coals of the brazier.

"Blast!" Tantalus muttered.

"Ah, well," Dionysus said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Perhaps a few more days. Believe me, old chap, working at this camp will be torture enough. I'm sure your old curse will fade eventually."

"Eventually," muttered Tantalus, staring at Dionysus's Diet Coke. "Do you have any idea how dry one's throat gets after three thousand years?"

"You're that spirit from the Fields of Punishment," Percy said. "The one who stands in the lake with the fruit tree hanging over you, but you can't eat or drink.

Tantalus sneered at Percy, and I glared at Tantalus. "A real scholar, aren't you, boy?"

""You must've done something really horrible when you were alive," Percy said, seemingly mildly impressed. "What was it?"

Tantalus's eyes narrowed. Behind him, the satyrs were shaking their heads vigorously, trying to warn Percy.

"I'll be watching you, Percy Jackson," Tantalus said. "I don't want any problems at my camp."

This is what they had to put up with all year? Great, now I felt worse, considering this was my fault.

"Your camp has problems already . . . sir," Percy said.

"Oh, go sit down, Johnson," Dionysus sighed. "I believe that table over there is yours—the one where no one else ever wants to sit."

I almost laughed. We weren't allowed to sit at each other's tables, otherwise this one wouldn't be so crowded, and I'd be sitting with Percy.

Then Percy said, "Come on, Tyson."

"Oh, no," Tantalus said. "The monster stays here we must decide what to do with it."

"Him," Percy snapped. "His name is Tyson.

The new activities director raised an eyebrow.

"Tyson saved the camp," Percy insisted. "He pounded those bronze bulls. Otherwise they would've burned down this whole place."

"Yes," Tantalus sighed, "and what a pity that would've been."

Dionysus snickered.

"Leave us," Tantalus ordered, "while we decide this creature's fate."

Tyson looked at Percy with fear in his one big eye, but I knew Percy couldn't do anything. He received a direct order, he couldn't disobey it. But I could.

I abruptly stood up, and walked over to Percy and Tyson, I struggled a bit to get off the seat because it was crammed but I got over to them.

"This is stupid," I said once I was by Percy's side.

Tantalus glared at me, as if I was the cause of all his problems.

"Stupid?" Dionysus huffed.

"Yes. Stupid," I continued, undeterred. "Tyson saved not just the camp, but the campers. And saving people shouldn't be punished, it should be rewarded. No matter what did it." I crossed my arms and glared slightly at the camp director. "So if you even have to discus what to do with him, then, yeah, it's pretty stupid."

I knew I was either being glared at or they were in awe from how quiet the campers were. Sneaking a glance at Percy I noticed that he was in the awe category, which made me feel better.

Dionysus glared at me for a moment before relenting. "Very well," he said, then quickly added, "but you're responsible for him."

I nodded. I could do that.

Just as the three of us sat down—Percy at the Poseidon table, me at the Hermes table, and Tyson standing nearby—the conch horn was blown. It was one of the satyrs, and apparently to get our attention for announcements.

————————————————————————

"Yes,well," Tantalus said, once the talking had died down. "Another fine meal! Or so I am told." As he spoke, he inched his hand toward his refilled dinner plate, as if maybe the food wouldn't notice what he was doing, but it did. It shot away down the table as soon as he got within six inches.

"And here on my first day of authority," he continued, "I'd like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture, er, interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."

Dionysus clapped politely, leading to some halfhearted applause from the satyrs.

"And now some changes!" Tantalus gave the campers a crooked smile. "We are reinstituting the chariot races!"

Murmuring broke out at all the tables—excitement, fear, disbelief. I just groaned and sunk a bit in my seat.

"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."

Technical problems, He says. It was dangerous!

"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," someone at the Apollo table called.

"Yes, yes!" Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning! The first race will be held in three days time. We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?"

An explosion of excited conversation—no KP for a whole month? No stable cleaning? Was he serious?

Then one of the first people I thought would object did so.

"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table. Some of the campers snickered when they saw the YOU MOO, GIRL! sign on her back. "What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—"

"Ah, the hero of the day," Tantalus exclaimed. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"

Clarisse blinked, then blushed. "Um, I didn't—"

"And modest, too." Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?"

"But the tree—"

"And now," Tantalus said, as several of Clarisse's cabin mates pulled her back into her seat, "before we proceed to the campfire and sing-along, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here." Tantalus waved a hand toward Tyson, who was standing by the edge of the table closest to Percy.

Uneasy murmuring spread among campers. A lot of sideways looks at Percy and me.

"Now, of course," he said. "Cyclops have a reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normal circumstances, I would release this beast into the woods and have you hunt it down with torches and pointed sticks." I scowled at Tantalus, the fact the he had the nerve to even say that made me mad. "But who knows? Perhaps this Cyclops is not as horrible as most of its brethren. Until it proves worthy of destruction, we need a place to keep it! I've thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous. Hermes's cabin, possibly? The cabin counselor did offer to watch him."

There was silence at our table.

"We don't have the room," I said, finally. I felt bad, really, I did. But we were bursting without a six-foot-three Cyclops.

"Come now," Tantalus chided. "The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?"

Suddenly everyone gasped.

All I could do was stare. I knew Tyson was a son of Poseidon, but I didn't know that he'd claimed him. Because above Tyson's head was a glowing green trident, the symbol of Poseidon.

There was a moment of awed silence.

Being claimed was a rare event. Some campers waited in vain for it their whole lives. When I was claimed the week I'd gotten to camp everybody was jealous. I didn't understand why back then, all I knew was that I hated Hermes. But then it took months for Annabeth to be claimed I had realized. But now, they followed Tantalus's lead, and Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"

Everybody laughter except Percy, Annabeth, me, and some others.

Tyson didn't seem to notice. He was too mystified, trying to swat the glowing trident that was now fading over his head. He was too innocent to understand how much they were making fun of him, how cruel people were.

But I got it.

I also noticed that Percy seemed embarrassed. It made sense. I felt bad for both of them.

Chapter Text

I’m really sorry about this. I know a lot of you have been looking forward to a new chapter. But unfortunately it’s not even close to done. And I haven’t been focusing on it. I tend to hyper fixate on stuff, which is how I started writing this. However, I’m currently hyper fixated on something else. I feel really bad, but I’m going on an indefinite hiatus. I’ll pick this back up eventually. Again, I’m really sorry.