Falling Stars (PJO)

We had a nice tour.

While I haven't known Chiron for long, he was a pretty decent guide. I still refuse to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trust Chiron's back end the way I trusted his front.

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the horn Percy was carrying. Another said, "That's him."

I'm still confused about this whole Minotaur Horn thing, because the last thing I remember was driving with Percy and Sally to Montauk and falling asleep in the car, now Sally's dead, Percy fought a bull man, and he and I are the children of Greek gods.

What the heck!

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind as I continued to watch the camper's.

Most of the them were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. They really need pants.

I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realized —four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like one of Tristan Mclean's shirts.

I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.

"What's up there?" Percy asked Chiron.

He looked where Percy was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?"

"No," he said with finality. "Not a single living thing."

"Okay, but is there anything non living up there?" I asked Chiron, because I know for a fact that I saw glowing eyes.

Chiron looked at me, thinking of how he should answer. Minutes passed before he started walking away, completely ignoring my question.

"Come along, you two," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see."

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe. I'm not sure why, but I could hear it perfectly, as if I were right next to him with surround sound speakers.

"Is that how the camp makes money?" I asked, enamored by the sight.

Chiron nodded yes, telling Percy and I that the camp grew a nice crop of strawberries that they exported to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus.

"It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

Good. He doesn't deserve grapes. Fuckin cherub bi—

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" Percy asked Chiron, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I mean ... he was a good protector. Really."

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that!"

"I mean yeah, he brought two different demigods with him even though he only needed one. On that note, how the hell did I get here?"

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate ... ah ... fate of your mother. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. Along with the fact he brought a child so disrespectful it warranted cursing from Dionysus. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

Chiron then looked at me, "for how you got here? I'm not sure, you kinda just showed up with Percy."

"That is incredibly concern— oh shit what am I gonna tell my uncle?!"

Chiron looked at me confused, but Percy understood what I meant. My Uncle Eddie was a strange man.

I ran a hand through my hair—longer, softer, weirdly weightless now—and let out a groan. "Oh, this is gonna suck."

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh... Eddie's not exactly gonna take this well, huh?"

"Understatement of the century," I muttered, kicking at the dirt. "He's the kind of guy who barely tolerates change when it comes to his favorite poker chips. How do you think he's gonna react when he sees this?" I gestured vaguely at myself. "He's gonna flip."

Eddie wasn't a bad guy—at least, not compared to Gabe—but he was old-school in all the worst ways. Set in his ways, superstitious, and had very strong opinions about what was "normal" and what wasn't. And I had a sinking feeling that showing up with whatever the hell Dionysus did to me would land me on the "not normal" list real fast.

And the worst part? I still didn't even know what I looked like. I felt different—clothes hanging weird, balance off—but no mirror, no reflection, no clue. Percy was side-eyeing me like he wanted to say something but didn't know how. That did not help my nerves.

"I mean, maybe he won't notice?" Percy offered weakly.

I shot him a look. "Eddie notices when a single poker chip is out of place. You think he's not gonna notice this?"

"Fair point."

Chiron, ever the picture of patience, watched our exchange with mild curiosity. "Would your uncle have reason to be... alarmed?"

I hesitated. "He's just... particular. Doesn't like weird stuff. Keeps to himself, mostly, but if something doesn't fit his idea of normal, he gets all twitchy about it. Like when that one neighbor started dressing their Pomeranian in sweaters—he still refuses to walk past their door."

Percy snorted. "The guy got mad over a dog sweater?"

"I'm telling you, twitchy."

Chiron hummed in thought. "Change can be difficult for many mortals to accept. However, you are not quite the same as when you left. The question is, will your uncle accept the truth of that change?"

I didn't have an answer to that.

What was I supposed to say? "Hey Uncle Eddie, I just spent some time at a magical summer camp for kids with godly parents, and also, surprise! I look different now! No, I don't know how long this will last! No, I don't know what else Dionysus did to me! No, I still don't know how I got here in the first place!"

Yeah. That'd go over real well.

I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temple. "I just need a mirror. I need to see what I'm dealing with."

Percy hesitated again, looking anywhere but directly at me.

"What?" I demanded.

"Uh... nothing. I mean, it's just... you might want to brace yourself."

A pit formed in my stomach. "Why?"

Percy opened his mouth, hesitated, then just pointed at my head.

I reached up instinctively—felt something soft, something furry, something that twitched at my own touch—

Oh.

Oh, no.

"What the hell?!"

Percy looked away, struggling to hold back a laugh.

"Why didn't you tell me I had ears on my head??" I asked Percy, hitting him in the shoulder.

"How was I supposed to bring that up?" Percy asked, holding up his hands in defense. "I'm still in shock at the fact my best friend's a goat— He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Chiron winced. "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

"How old is he?" Percy and I asked.

"Oh, twenty-eight."

That got my attention.

"What!" I cried, pulling my hand over my ears —having a higher voice has made my screams a lot louder.

"And he's in sixth grade?" Percy continued.

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible."

"How does that even work?" I mumbled in confusion.

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career... ."

"That's not fair," Percy said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

"Yeah, it can't be worse than whatever happened with Percy."

Chiron looked away quickly. "Let's move along, shall we?"

Well that isn't suspicious at all, good deflection skills horse man.

"Chiron," Percy said. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real ..."

"Yes, child?"

"Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

Chiron's expression darkened.

"Yes, child." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now ... until we know more ... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, you two. Let's see the woods."

"Taking two preteens to the woods of a magic camp after talking about the underworld does not bode well, Chiron."

He sighed, nodding with a knowing look.

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, it was as if no one had been in there since the Corchaug, Setauket, and Shinnecock.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" I asked.

"Armed with what?" Percy Asked,

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"My own—?"

"You literally watched this kid for a year how the hell would he have a sword— wait is it hell or Tartarus now?" I asked Percy. He shrugged, not sure himself.

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose either of you do. I think a size five will work for Percy, we'll have to get you remeasured Cosmos, due to your, uh, situation. I'll visit the armory later."

Of Course this place had an armory, children with short attention spans and sharp weapons with little supervision is a great idea.

The tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" Perch asked.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

"Usually?!"

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" Percy asked.

"Or when birds fly onto your tables? There's like zero protection from wild animals."

Chiron looked at us as if I'd gone a little weird. "We still have to eat, don't we?"

I'm starting to think Chiron enjoys giving vague answers with no explanation.

Finally, he showed us the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a football field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (no actual football equipment though, which is a disappointment.)

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the floor of the fireplace smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

I don't know why, but for some reason the lightning bolt one pissed me off.

"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guessed.

"Correct," Chiron said.

That explains it.

"Their cabins look empty." I commented.

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

That's weird. Hera I get cause she's like the only one who doesn't have kids out of wedlock —minus artemis— but didn't Zeus have like- the fourth most kids in mythology with Poseidon having the most? Why would some be empty?

I continued to walk but stopped as I bumped into Percy. He stood there in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

I stared at Cabin Three, my mind racing through the thoughts I couldn't shake. It wasn't high and mighty like Cabin One, but it wasn't small either. Long, low, and solid, like something that could withstand a storm and still stand proud when it was all over. The outer walls were rough, gray stone, studded with seashells and coral that looked like they'd been pulled straight from the ocean floor, weathered and ancient. It was hard not to imagine the ocean waves crashing over it, keeping it steady and secure in its place.

It didn't have the flashy appeal of Zeus's cabin with its shining bronze doors or Hera's, with its pristine, graceful lines. But there was something to it, something quiet and powerful. The sea. I could almost feel it pulling at me, the way the waves pull you in, just out of reach but never quite letting you go.

Percy stepped forward, peeking inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he could pull him back, A gist of salty sea air floated out of the interior, like the wind on the shore at the beach. Chiron quickly put his hand on Percy's shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while Foo Fighters blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and gave him an evil sneer. She reminded me of me funnily enough, though the camper girl was much bigger, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of white and pink.

I kept walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron's hooves.

"We haven't seen any other centaurs," Percy observed.

"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really ..."

"The guy Hercules accidentally shot in a drunken stupor?"

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Boys, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?" Percy asked.

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish ... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It sounded awful, teaching rowdy kids who have no interest in what you're teaching, it would be like dealing with me for centuries.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?" Percy asked.

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."

"Why depressing?"

Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

"Oh, look," he said. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The black haired girl we'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked Percy and I over critically, like she was still thinking about how much he drooled. When she got to me her face contorted in confusion, wondering who I was and where the other foot and a half of me was.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and Cosmos from here?"

"Yes, si— THAT'S COSMOS?!"

"Hey," I waved.

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told us, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all of them, it looked the most... normal. If you could even call it that. Compared to the others, it was practically boring. Just a regular, old summer camp cabin—if by "regular" you meant "one good shove away from collapsing." The wood was weathered, the brown paint peeling like a bad sunburn. The threshold had been stepped over so many times it was worn down smooth.

Over the doorway was a symbol I vaguely recognized, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. A... what was it called? A cadu-something.

"Caduceus," Chiron supplied, catching my squinting. "The symbol of Hermes."

Right. That guy.

Now, Hermes was one of those gods I actually remembered from school. The messenger god, the guy with the winged sandals. Supposedly a jack-of-all-trades—god of travelers, merchants, thieves. And judging by the sheer number of kids crammed into that cabin, I was guessing "god of crashing on your buddy's couch" should've been added to the list.

It was packed. Bunk beds, sleeping bags on the floor, kids sitting on windowsills—way more campers than any of the other cabins. The air smelled like sweat, snack food, and old sneakers. A few kids were playing cards on an overturned crate.

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy, Cosmos. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range.

Percy and I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at us, sizing us up. I knew this routine. I'd done the same thing to a bunch of players.

"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."

So naturally Percy tripped coming in the door. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything, probably cause they were too focused on the ears on my head.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, supposedly Cosmos, meet cabin eleven.

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everybody groaned.

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy, Cosmos. You can have those spots on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with curly soot black hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his lip, it linda looked like a lightning bolt.

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing, her expression hardened too fast for me to be sure. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" Percy asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put either of you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given me. I didn't realize till now but, I had nothing to put there, no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag. Not even a Minotaur's horn like Percy had. I thought about setting my oversized hoodie down, but then I remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves.

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some ... weirdly impish. Does that kid have a bible? Is that even allowed?

"How long will we be here?" I asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?" Percy asked.

The campers all laughed.

Okay, so everyone here loves giving vague answers... greattttt.

"Come on," Annabeth told me. "I'll show you guys the volleyball court."

"We've already seen it."

"Come on." She grabbed Percy and I's wrists and dragged us outside —dear god I'm light—. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind me.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought either you were the one."

"What's your problem?" I asked getting annoyed.

"Yeah," Percy emphasized, getting angry, "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To not remember anything?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

I shook my head. "Look, if the thing Percy fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right?" Percy asked.

"Gajillion isn't a number, but yeah, Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So ..."

"Monsters don't die, you two. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"That makes literally no sense." I said, crossing my arms.

"Neither does you being turned into a cat girl Aphrodite yet here we are." Annabeth spat.

"... Touché."

Annabeth sighed, rubbing a hand through over her hair. "Look, monster's don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form."

"Ah, so with Percy's luck the Minotaur's already reformed then." I said, getting punch to the shoulder.

With a groan, Percy began to ask a question. "You mean if I killed a monster, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fur ... I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"What the hell— Hades?— no, hell, is a Mrs. Dodds?"

"My ex Math Teacher," Percy said, "seriously though, how do you know about Mrs. Dodds."

"You talk in your sleep."

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" Percy sounded whiny, he was right to ask though, I was getting sick of the thunder too."Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

Percy pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or ... your parent."

She stared at us, waiting for either of us to get it.

"My mom and dad are dead, I don't know what you're expecting." I said with a frown.

"My mom is Sally Jackson," Percy told her. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. And I'm unsure what to say about your parents Cosmos. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent, Percy. Your dad."

"He's dead. I never knew him." Percy said shortly.

Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead, Percy, and it may be the same for one of your parents Cosmos."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

I shrugged, "honestly, I'd be surprised if my mom was alive. Given she was struck by lightning while at her University job. My dad would make sense though, my mom never said he was dead."

"Percy, I don't know your father, and Cosmos that luckily does narrow it down." Annabeth explained.

Percy let out a frustrated sigh,"Then how can you say he isn't dead?"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How—"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

Percy swallowed hard. "What does that have to do with anything?"

I wanted to speak up, but the conversation was tense between them. I didn't really care about who my parents were. All that mattered to my Mom was being the best and I never met my Dad.

Annabeth continued to speak.

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like you know from experience." I finally said.

"Most of the kids here did. If neither of you were like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."

A half-blood.

"Wait but I don't have ADHD nor dislexia, the only disorder I have is IED (Intermediate Explosive Disorder). The only reason I know ancient Greek is because my Uncle was paranoid and taught me it so we could keep our passwords safe. The only language I'm inclined to know is Spanish, Arabic and Afrikaans cause that's what I was raised speaking."

Annabeth scratched her chin thinking, "well, it's rare but in some cases Demigods are born without Dyslexia, even rarer for them to be born without ADHD. But it isn't impossible."

"That's, actually a real answer, thanks."

Annabeth looked like she was going to say more when a husky voice yelled, "Well! Two newbie's!"

I looked over. The big girl from the red cabin was sauntering toward us. She had three other girls behind her, all big and mean looking, all wearing camo jackets. I almost wanted to ask where there arms were, but that seemed in poor taste.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

''Erre es korakas!" Annabeth said, which was Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward's Percy and I. "Who're these runts?"

"Percy Jackson, Cosmos," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."

Percy blinked. "Like ... the war god?"

"Like the guy who fights alongside the red horseman?"

Clarisse sneered but paused and looked at me. "What?"

"Don't, don't worry about it, it's a long story." I told her. She looked at her sister's who all gave her a shrug.

Clarisse turned to Percy. "Ignoring the little girl, is there something wrong with my dad being the god of war?"

"No," Percy said, having recovered gus wits. "It explains the bad smell."

Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy." He corrected.

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse—" Annabeth tried to say.

"Stay out of it, wise girl."

I started walking towards Clarisse but was stopped by one her lackey's.

Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it, I wasn't as peaceful. I went to deck her in the nose but a second lackey came from behind to bind my arms.

I struggled against the grip of Clarisse's lackeys, my arms pinned behind my back by two of them while the third stood in front of me, smirking like she had already won. They weren't particularly strong, at least not individually, but they were smart enough to hold me in a way that made it hard to use my legs without throwing myself off balance.

"You're staying right here, little girl," one of them sneered.

I gritted my teeth. Little girl? If I weren't restrained, I would've introduced her to my fist for that alone.

"Cosmos, it's fine." Percy said as he handed Annabeth his minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before I knew it, Clarisse had him by the neck and was dragging me toward a cinder-block building that I knew immediately was the bathroom.

I struggled against the grip of Clarisse's sisters, who held me back as I tried to go after her. They were strong—annoyingly strong. My usual method of intimidation wasn't going to work on girls who probably wrestled demons —daemons? Daemons for fun.

"Easy there, pretty lady," one of them sneered, her grip like a vice around my wrist. "You'll get your turn."

"Let me go," I growled, my eyes narrowing. I wasn't used to being restrained like this. It made my blood boil, my muscles twitch.

"Nah," another said, grinning. "You look like you'd be fun to fight, but orders are orders. Clarisse wants the new guy first. You can play later."

I was kicking and punching. I'd been in plenty of fights before, but these girls had hands like iron. They dragged us into the girls' bathroom. There was a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other. It smelled just like any public bathroom, and I was thinking that if this place belonged to the gods, they should've been able to afford cleaner bathrooms.

Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and I was trying to find the to rip out their fucking teeth.

"Like either of them are 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she pushed Percy toward one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking."

Her friends snickered.

Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers.

I twisted in the iron grip of her sisters, but they held me firm. Their arms were locked around mine, pressing my shoulders down and restricting my movement just enough to keep me from going feral. I could throw my weight around all I wanted-these girls were trained for combat. They planted their boots in the ground and absorbed every ounce of my struggling like it was nothing.

I tried to snap back when the bathroom erupted. Literally.

Water exploded from the doorway like a tidal wave, knocking campers off their feet. Clarisse and her gang were suddenly sent sprawling into the mud, coughing and sputtering.

Thankfully, I was bone dry due to Clarisse's line backer built sisters blocking the explosion.

I was now outside on the grass as I watched Percy and Annabeth walkout the bathroom doors, one soaking wet, the other bone dry.

The campers around us went silent, staring at the scene like they couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed. I couldn't either.

Clarisse sat up, looking like she'd been dunked in raw sewage. The way she glared at Percy, you'd think he'd personally declared war on her entire bloodline.

"You are dead, new boy," she snarled. "You are totally dead."

Percy looked down at her, eyes filled with a new pride as he said, "You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth."

Clarisse growled, but her sisters were already dragging her away, muttering about getting her cleaned up. The crowd of campers slowly dispersed, some still throwing glances at Percy like he'd grown a second head.

Annabeth stared into space, or I think at Percy. I couldn't tell whether she was just grossed out or angry at him for dousing her.

"What?" I demanded. "What are you thinking?"

Annabeth just shook her head at him. "I'm thinking," she said, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."

I looked over at Percy, dry as a bone and slightly malnourished from the lack of real food while he was in the infirmary.

"You sure? He has like— zero training."

Annabeth waved me off, "Don't worry, Athena always has a plan. Plus, he'll have you to help him."

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

DGW: Thank you all for reading, I'm sorry for the shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoyed the story. If you have any suggestions or ideas for Cosmos, feel free to give them.

Story Inspired By: Runic Painter by Lunar_Lunatics

Idea given to me by: Some_lazy_author

Word Count: 5890