Sophie couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her when she saw Thalia's tree. Normally it stood tall and proud, its branches reaching protectively over the camp's borders, with leaves that glistened bright green in the sunlight. Now, though, it looked as sickly as her grandmother. The once-vibrant leaves drooped, yellowing and wilting, and the bark, which had always seemed strong and solid, was now peeling away, revealing the sickly green color of the wood underneath. Even the grass around the tree's roots was withering, leaving bare patches of dark, damp soil exposed. The sight made something heavy twist inside her stomach.

As Sophie walked up the hill, she noticed how quiet the camp had become. The volleyball court, usually filled with shouts and laughter, was empty. There were no kids sprinting across the grounds, no Pegasus riders dipping and diving in the distance. Even the lake, always dotted with canoes full of campers, was still. Every boat had been neatly stored in the shed, bone dry, and the lake's surface lay smooth and undisturbed, like glass.

There was no laughter or chatter drifting from the dining pavilion, where at least a few campers were always hanging out between activities. Not a single demigod was lingering at the tables or swapping stories over snacks. It was completely deserted.

Sophie passed a few campers as she moved through the grounds, but none of them greeted her or seemed to notice her at all. They were all heading toward the eastern side of camp, walking quickly, almost hurriedly. She caught a few of their faces—eyes darting around, faces pale, expressions tense. She assumed they must be going to the stables, but as she watched the four of them move further away, she realized they were actually heading toward the camp's borders.

She couldn't remember any activities that were near the borders.

The sound of clashing swords echoed faintly from the depths of the forest. It was a familiar sound, but it filled her with unease. It was Friday; they never held Capture the Flag on Fridays. So why were there people training in the woods?

As she crossed the cabin grounds, she noticed how few campers were inside their cabins. The usual hum of conversation and activity from within the cabins was absent. Clarisse was standing outside the Ares cabin, arms crossed, scolding a couple of younger campers, her expression more intense than usual. That was the only familiar face Sophie saw.

When she finally reached the Hermes cabin, the silence hit her harder than expected. The Hermes cabin was always lively, filled with laughter and noise, but now, it was eerily quiet. She stepped inside and noticed only two people, Connor and another kid she didn't recognize, talking quietly at the back. Connor was rummaging through the chest of supplies, pulling out thin, worn blankets and handing them to the younger camper, who was busily changing the sheets on one of the beds.

"Need a hand?" Sophie offered, setting her duffle bag down.

Connor's head whipped around, and the moment he saw her, his tense expression softened. Relief flickered in his eyes, though worry still lingered in the creases of his forehead and the downturn of his mouth.

"Oh, thank gods," he sighed, shoving a stack of pillowcases into her arms before she could even blink. "That would be amazing, actually!"

Sophie took the pillowcases and moved to one of the unmade beds, starting to change the sheets. "So..." she began, hesitantly. "Where is everyone?"

"Border patrol or training," answered the girl helping Connor, her tone clipped. Sophie glanced at her more closely—she had dark brown hair in a short bob, her skin was a deep tan, and her bright blue eyes stood out like beacons against her face. Her camp shirt sleeves had been cut off, and a small rainbow charm hung from her belt. The girl didn't make eye contact as she focused on the beds.

"Border patrol?" Sophie repeated, confused. "Why would we need border patrol?"

Connor paused, casting her a look filled with something she couldn't quite place—pity, maybe. It made her heart sink.

The girl, continued making another bed, her back to Sophie. "Thalia's tree," she said quietly, not turning around. "There's no way you didn't see it on the way in."

Sophie saw it. And it looked awful. But what had that to do with anything. She thought that maybe it was still affected from winter?

Connor handed Sophie another set of sheets, placing a hand on her shoulder. "What Hilaria means is..." He paused, searching for words, and when he finally spoke, his tone was more solemn than she'd ever heard it. "It's best if you let Chiron explain it all to you."

Sophie nodded slowly, trying to process what he'd said. She was still unsure why she would need Chiron to explain something so simple, but the grim look in Connor's eyes made her feel like it was something she couldn't begin to understand just yet.

"Travis!" a voice called from behind her. "Got the clean clothes!"

Sophie turned and saw a younger boy entering the cabin, a cheerful smile lighting up his face even amid the somber atmosphere. He had short, choppy blond hair, like he'd cut it himself, and he wore shorts and sandals, clearly unaffected by the tension surrounding them. He dressed like the young medic Will. Yet there was something familiar about him, something unsettling. He reminded her of someone else entirely, he looked exactly like she'd imagine thirteen year old Luke to look like.

He didn't look familiar to Sophie, but he seemed to know her well enough. "Hey, Sophie," he said brightly, moving forward to take the pillowcases she was holding.

Sophie blinked, momentarily confused by the shifting tasks. First, she'd been handed the pillowcases, then more sheets, and now this boy was taking the pillowcases back. She felt as if she were being gently but firmly shuffled out.

Connor came over, guiding her toward the cabin door. He offered her a small, strained smile. "Go find Chiron. He'll explain everything you need to know." His hand gave her shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze. "It's good to see you again, Sophie."

Sophie returned his smile, though a new heaviness lingered at the back of her mind. "You too, Connor."

With one last look at the cabin, she stepped outside, and made her way toward the Big House.

The Big House looked... wrong. Usually, its porch was cluttered with knickknacks and little decorations collected over years, giving it a homey, chaotic charm. But now, it was stripped bare. The pinboard by the door, where Chiron had always pinned photos of campers, was gone too, leaving an empty, faded square on the wall. The whole place looked cold, barren, as if Dionysus had taken it upon himself to "decorate." Yet even Mr. D would have shown more effort than this.

Sophie climbed the porch steps slowly, moving carefully to avoid the gaze of Dionysus, who was lounging at a small table with a strange, skeletal man as they played pinochle. She wasn't in the mood for introductions. She just wanted to slip by unnoticed.

Just as she neared the door, one of the porch boards let out a loud, unmistakable creak. Dionysus's head turned toward her, and he lowered his sunglasses, squinting at her. He looked exactly the same as he had last summer: soda can in hand, a garish Hawaiian shirt covered in neon tigers, and Bermuda shorts.

"Sally," he called, waving her over.

Sophie sighed, rolling her eyes, but walked over to him. "Mr. D," she greeted reluctantly.

Dionysus glanced at his bony companion, who finally looked up. The man's face was sharp, his cheekbones jutting under thin, pale skin. His eyes were sunken, and his hair was a matted mess. His fingers, long and yellowed, looked skeletal against his cards. He stared at Sophie with an unnerving intensity, a hollow look that made her want to back away.

Dionysus briefly looked past Sophie, scanning the camp before turning back to her, casually waving his can of soda. "Where's Peter Johnson?" he asked.

Sophie shook her head. "He's not coming for another two weeks," she explained.

"Shame," Dionysus said, in a tone that suggested he couldn't care less. He turned back to his friend, gesturing with the soda can. "Sally and Peter caused quite a bit of trouble last year." He then dropped a newspaper on the table, and Sophie's stomach twisted—she recognized it instantly.

It was the same headline she'd seen countless times: her and Percy's yearbook photos plastered under the title, *Kids with Terrorists?* And below, the paragraph she knew by heart:

"Percy Jackson, a young adolescent boy, was last seen traveling with his mother toward a holiday house on Montauk Beach before disappearing under unusual circumstances. Percy's stepfather, who describes him as a 'troubled kid,' expressed concern for his wife's safety. Three weeks later, witnesses reported seeing Percy with two other kids, including another adolescent, Sophie Jones, fleeing from a Greyhound bus moments before it exploded. Authorities are investigating potential links between Percy's disappearance and the bus incident and urge anyone with information to come forward."

The thin man read the headline aloud in a slow, wheezing voice, eyes fixed on Sophie. "I remember," he said, his lips twisting into an unsettling grin.

Sophie turned away from his stare, directing her attention back to Dionysus, who was watching her with his usual lazy indifference. "Mr. D—" she began, but he cut her off.

"Sir."

She gritted her teeth, forcing the word out. "Sir, where's Chiron?"

Dionysus pointed vaguely with his soda can toward the Big House. "He should be inside, packing up his things."

"Packing?" The word stuck in her throat, sounding wrong.

"Yep," Dionysus said with a hollow smile. He didn't seem the least bit sad, but there was something about his expression, like a tiny flash of pity. "He was fired. I'd assumed someone would have filled you in."

Sophie's heart sank. "Fired? But why?"

He just shrugged, turning back to his game. "Kids," he said, glancing at his friend.

The man turned to Sophie, that strange grin reappearing on his face, more sinister than before. "I am Tantalus," he said, narrowing his eyes. "The new activities director."

The name hit Sophie like ice water. Tantalus. A spirit from the Underworld cursed to suffer eternally—never able to reach the fruit hanging just above him. She'd heard Annabeth talk about him in one of her lessons. What was he doing here?

Sophie pressed her lips together, steeling herself. "Why was Chiron fired?"

Dionysus sighed as if the conversation bored him. "I can't be bothered explaining," he said, lazily gesturing with his soda can. "Go ask Chiron."

Sophie turned back to the Big House, a cold shiver trailing down her spine as she felt Tantalus's sharp eyes following her all the way to the door.

She found Chiron in his apartment, quietly packing his things. The room was filled with the soft, soothing sound of some old 1960s lounge music playing from his radio. She knocked lightly on the open door.

Chiron looked up, a hint of a smile softening his face. "Sophie, it's good to see you."

She stepped inside, managing a small smile as she took a seat in the armchair beside him. She let out a sigh, feeling some of the tension melt away. "Chiron, what in the name of the gods is going on?"

Chiron turned his gaze out the window, his expression distant. Sophie followed his line of sight, watching as his eyes lingered on Thalia's tree, and then drifted over the campers running across the fields. Finally, he looked back at her. "A lot has happened, child," he said softly.

"Mr. D said you were fired!" Sophie blurted out.

Chiron nodded, the sadness in his eyes deepening. "Yes, sadly. Someone had to take the blame for Thalia's tree being poisoned."

Sophie shook her head, anger flaring inside her. "But that makes no sense! You'd never do anything to harm the camp! We all know who's really responsible..."

Chiron simply closed his saddlebag, letting out a sigh. "Alas."

Sophie glanced back out the door, her thoughts flashing to Tantalus. "But... they can't replace you. Right?"

Chiron placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his grip warm and steady. "For the time being, they have. But the camp will need you, Sophie. You and Percy. You must do your best to protect them all. They look up to you."

The idea felt strange to Sophie. She couldn't imagine anyone actually looking up to her. But she nodded slowly, meeting Chiron's gaze. "I will. I promise."

Chiron's eyes softened with something close to pride, but there was a sadness there too, something that made Sophie's throat tighten. "Good. Now, you'd best get back to your usual activities." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, his voice returning to its usual calm. "Go ask Connor or Travis for your schedule."

Sophie stood, offering him one last grateful smile before slipping out the door.

-|☆|-

Sophie knocked on the door of the Aphrodite cabin, gripping the small blue box of rings in her hands. Over the year, her uncle had given her a set of her own, so she didn't need the ones Silena had kindly lent her at the start of camp. She figured it was time to return them.

She waited a few seconds, shifting back and forth on her feet, hoping Drew wouldn't be the one to answer the door.

Luckily, Silena opened it instead. Her long, black hair was wrapped in soft curlers, and her makeup was only half-finished, her eyebrows looking a little too thin. Sophie was surprised Silena even answered the door in the middle of getting ready—she was usually so put-together.

Sophie always wondered why Silena even wore makeup or curled her hair. She looked beautiful without it, and Sophie couldn't help but feel a hint of envy every time she saw her. Silena had this effortlessly perfect hair and a tiny waist that Sophie wished she had. Even her blue eyes seemed to sparkle naturally in the sunlight, while Sophie's own hair would turn into a mop within an hour of brushing it.

"Sophie?" Silena looked pleasantly surprised. "You okay?"

Sophie nodded and held out the little box. "Just wanted to give these back to you."

Silena took the box and opened it, glancing over the rings inside. She slipped it into the pocket of her fluffy pink robe, then looked around the cabin door, as if checking to make sure no one else was around. "Do you think I could talk to you for a bit?"

"Of course."

Silena led Sophie inside and guided her over to a pink spinning chair—the kind you'd see in a salon. It sat in front of a mirror framed with small, pearl-white lights. Sophie glanced over the hairdryer and several makeup products scattered across the desk, then hopped onto the chair and started spinning in circles, unable to resist.

Silena stopped the chair mid-spin, turning it to face the mirror. She grabbed a blue brush from the desk and ran it through Sophie's hair.

"When was the last time you brushed your hair?" Silena asked, almost scowling as she tried to tame Sophie's unruly strands.

Sophie glanced up at Silena's reflection in the mirror, tilting her head slightly. "This morning?"

Silena just shook her head, humming as she worked. She picked up a few more products, spraying them here and there, and eyed Sophie's hair carefully. "Your ends need a trim," she muttered, pulling open a drawer to grab a shiny pair of silver scissors.

"I was planning on getting it cut soon." Sophie shrugged, a bit excited by the idea. She'd been wanting a change, something she could actually control.

But Silena shook her head, snipping at the ends thoughtfully. "Short hair wouldn't suit you. Your face shape works better with long, wavy hair." She gathered up Sophie's hair, pulling it back into a loose ponytail.

Sophie wasn't sure whether to feel complimented or a little offended, so she settled for an awkward silence, watching as Silena continued to fuss over her hair.

Finally, Silena spoke, her voice quieter than usual. "Sophie... Can I talk to you about something?"

Sophie nodded, letting her know she was listening.

Silena took a deep breath, her eyes lowering to the brush in her hands as it trembled slightly. "It's...about Luke."

Just hearing his name sent a chill down Sophie's spine. Luke terrified her, especially after what he'd done to Percy. He had tried to kill him—a kid. Someone who trusted him.

"What if..." Silena's voice shook a little, and Sophie noticed the brush in her hand pause. "What if he was... right?"

Sophie spun her chair around to face Silena, staring at her in shock. Silena was looking down at her hands, fiddling with one of her many golden rings, her face clouded with a mix of shame and sadness.

"Silena, he tried to kill Percy," Sophie said, her voice laced with disbelief.

Silena's head shot up, her hands waving quickly as she shook her head. "No, no, no!" she said, her voice desperate. "What he did was awful, and I don't agree with how he handled it. But... I mean, haven't you ever felt angry? Haven't you felt... forgotten?"

Sophie paused. Silena's words struck a chord. It wasn't like she didn't understand. She knew Hecate was her mom, but she hadn't claimed her. Not once had she been acknowledged. Sophie had wondered sometimes if maybe minor gods just didn't claim their kids. But still, the gods were terrible parents. And it wasn't like she'd never felt the same kind of anger Luke had described. She just couldn't bring herself to turn against them, not after what Luke had done.

Silena's voice softened, and she looked down at her hands again. "I feel... I feel angry. I feel hurt. My mom never visits me. Not once has she come to see me. When we went to Olympus last year, she acted like I didn't even exist."

Sophie didn't know what to say. She hadn't been through exactly what Silena had, but she understood where she was coming from. It reminded her of how her "real" mom, Abigail, treated her. Abigail never treated her like family, always quick to scold her and barely acknowledged her at all, even when she did the same to her own kids, Millie and Connor. It wasn't hard to imagine how Silena might feel neglected or angry.

Silena spun Sophie around to face the mirror again, and Sophie caught her breath when she saw her reflection. Silena had completely transformed her hair. The ends were curled, soft and shiny, with a natural bounce that made it seem like it was glowing. Sophie's hair looked golden, healthier than she'd ever seen it.

"Wow..." Sophie murmured, running her fingers through it.

Silena gave a soft smile, but her expression quickly turned serious. "Please, Sophie," she said quietly, "don't tell anyone about this. I could get in a lot of trouble."

Sophie placed a hand on Silena's shoulder, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "I won't tell anyone," she promised.

Silena's shoulders relaxed, and she gave Sophie a grateful smile.

-|☆|-

In social studies, while Percy's class was drawing latitude/longitude maps, He opened his notebook and stared at the photo inside— It was a picture of Sophie and him, taken by Will Solace on the last night at camp. They weren't looking at the camera, but the two were smiling. Probably over something dumb Dionysus had said in his end of the year speech. Sophie's orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt and blonde hair glowed in the campfire lighting. Her big golden eyes looked amber as the flames reflected and glittered in her pupils.

Percy wished Sophie was there with him. He wondered if she would know what to make of his dream about Grover. Not only that, but Percy thought she was smart. Way smarter than him anyway. Despite calling her an idiot sometimes.

Percy was about to close his notebook when Matt Sloan reached over and ripped the photo out of the rings.

"Hey!" Percy protested.

Sloan checked out the picture, more specifically, the girl in the picture, and his eyes got wide. "No way, Jackson. Who is that? She is not your—"

"Give it back!" Percy's ears felt hot.

Sloan handed the photo to his ugly buddies, who snickered and started ripping it up to make spit wads. They were new kids who must've been visiting, because they were all wearing those stupid HI! MY NAME IS: tags from the admissions office. They must've had a weird sense of humor, too, because they'd all filled in strange names like: MARROW SUCKER, SKULL EATER, and JOE BOB. No human beings had names like that.

"These guys are moving here next year," Sloan bragged, like that was supposed to scare Percy. "I bet they can pay the tuition, too, unlike your slow friend."

"He's not slow," Percy gritted out, trying really, really hard not to punch Sloan in the face.

"You're such a loser, Jackson. Good thing I'm gonna put you out of your misery next period."

His huge buddies chewed up the photo. Percy wanted to pulverize them, but was under strict orders from Chiron never to take his anger out on regular mortals, no matter how obnoxious they were.

The bell rang.

As Tyson and him were leaving class, a girl's voice whispered, "Percy!"

He looked around the locker area, but nobody was paying him any attention.

Long story short. Percy got his ass kicked in PE and it turns out that Matt solan and his buddies were Canadians. They wanted to kill Percy but 'thankfully' Annabeth had been stalking him all morning and was there to help. They then got a taxi with three crazy lady's with one eye all the way to camp. Percy told Tyson his dads Poseidon, and Annabeth hates Tyson though Percy's not sure why. And that's where he was now.

Mythologically speaking, if there's anything Percy hated worse than trios of old ladies, it's bulls. Last summer, he and Sophie fought the Minotaur on top of Half-Blood Hill. This time, there were two bulls. And not just regular bulls—bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire, too.

As soon as the four exited the taxi, the Gray Sisters peeled out, heading back to New York, where life was safer. They didn't even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left them on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson and Percy still in their burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes.

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging on the hill.

The most worrisome thing wasn't the bulls themselves. It was that the beats were ranging all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. Which shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magic boundaries didn't allow monsters to cross past Thalia's tree. But the metal bulls were doing it anyway.

One of the heroes shouted, "Border patrol, to me!" A girl's voice—gruff and familiar.

The daughter of Ares' fellow warriors were scattering, running in panic as the bulls charged. The grass was burning in huge swathes around the pine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horse-hair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse's own armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

"COME BACK HERE YOU PEICE OF SHIT-!" Percy heard someone yell. He instantly noticed Sophie running towards one of the Bulls, Connor and another kid from the Hermes cabin right behind her. He also noticed that Sophie had a new sword.

Percy uncapped his ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer and heavier until he held the bronze sword, Anaklusmos, in his hands. "Tyson, stay here. I don't want you taking any more chances."

"No!" Annabeth said. "We need him."

Percy gave her a look. "He's mortal. He got lucky before, but he can't—"

"Percy, do you know what those are up there? The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can't fight them without Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We'll get burned to a—"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Percy told Annabeth, "but I'm not going to let Tyson get fried."

"But-"

"Tyson, stay back." Percy raised his sword. "I'm going in."

Tyson tried to protest, but Percy was already running up the hill Towards Sophie.

Clarisse was yelling at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. The few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide-and-bronze wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.

Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster six campers. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire.

"Hold the line!" Clarisse ordered her warriors.

The bull turned, wheeling around behind Clarisse on her unprotected side.

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

But perhaps he shouldn't have yelled, because all he did was startle her. Bull Number One crashed into her shield, and the phalanx broke. Clarisse went flying backward and landed in a smoldering patch of grass.

The bull charged past her, but not before blasting the other heroes with its fiery breath. Their shields melted right off their arms. They dropped their weapons and ran as Bull Number Two closed in on Clarisse for the kill.

Sophie grabbed her sword tightly and launched herself towards the bull. She managed to grab onto one of the metal armor plates on its back and pull herself up. She grabbed on tightly as the bull bucked trying to throw her off.

The monster kicked its legs, which exposed its underbelly from behind, Sophie watched as an arrow flew towards it lodging itself in one of the armor cracks. While the bull got distracted by the pain Sophie stabbed her sword into its back.

Which did not kill it.

The bull bucked again, and Sophie flew off it, landing about six meters away on her back, staring up at the sky her vision spinning.

She quickly pushed off the feeling of nausea and hopped back to her feet. Looking back towards the bull which was now running towards the Apollo camper that shot the arrow.

Sophie turned around when she heard Clarisse yelling.

"Let me go!" Clarisse said, pummeling Percy's hand after he had just gotten her out of the way of the charging bull. "Percy, curse you!"

Percy dropped her in a heap next to the pine tree and turned to face the bulls. Everyone was on the inside slope of the hill now, the valley of Camp Half-Blood directly below—the cabins, the training facilities, the Big House—all of it at risk if the bulls got past them.

Annabeth shouted orders to the other heroes, telling them to spread out and keep the bulls distracted.

Sophie did just that; rolling out of the way as Bull Number One shot a line of flames at her. She slashed upward and struck the beast with her black sword which had come back to her, creating a gash in its snout.

Percy lunged as Bull Number Two blew flames at him. But his foot caught on something—a tree root, maybe—and pain shot up his ankle. He tried to stand, but his left leg buckled underneath him.

Annabeth shouted, "Tyson, help him!"

Sophie turned and saw Percy on the ground, cradling his hurt ankle. Bull Number Two was preparing to charge at him. He had no time to crawl away.

Somewhere near, toward the crest of the hill, 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 his friend, yelling, "Percy needs help!"

Before anyone could tell him no, 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. Sophie could only see the black silhouette of his body. Percy staggered and stood up on his one uninjured foot as Sophie sprinted over to the scene.

She squinted through the blast of heat, and swore she could see Tyson, perfectly intact, looking at the bull angrily.

She took a step closer, but Percy said, "Woah," grabbed the bottom of her camp half-blood t-shirt and pulled her toward him as the explosion of heat grew in size.

When the fire died, Tyson was still standing there, completely unharmed. Even the bull seemed shocked. 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. Two small columns of flame shot out of its ears. 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 and handed Percy her canteen of nectar to relieve his ankle.

"The other bull?" Percy asked.

Annabeth pointed down the hill. Clarisse had finished off the bull Sophie had attacked. She'd impaled it through the back leg with a celestial bronze spear. Now, with its snout half gone and a huge stab wound on is back, it was trying to run in slow motion, going in circles like some kind of merry-go-round animal.

Clarisse pulled off her helmet and marched toward them. 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!"

Annabeth grumbled, "Good to see you too, Clarisse."

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

"Clarisse." Sophie said stopping her yelling. "Is everyone okay?"

Clarisse turned around to assess the damages, and she spotted some wounded campers.

That sobered her up fast. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her command. She scowled at Percy, then gave Annabeth and Sophie a nod before walking towards them.

Sophie turned her attention to Percys new friend. He was tall, tall for a kid Percy's age. But when she squinted her eyes she noticed something.

Percy stared at Tyson. "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."

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

Sophie watched as Percy seemed to have trouble looking past Tyson's lumpy nose. But eventually he got there, his eyes widening as he stared at his friend's one large eye. But Sophie was more concerned with the big tears that were trickling down the larger boy's cheeks.

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

"Cyclops," Annabeth offered. "A baby, by the looks of him. 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?" Sophie said.

"They're in almost all the big cities," Annabeth said distastefully. "They're...mistakes."

Sophie was instantly bothered by that description and looked down to stare at an interesting patch of grass.

"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."

Clarisse came back over and wiped the 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 happened."

"I can help," Sophie offered, flipping the lid on her sword hilt, making the small lighter appear in her hand.

Clarisse evaluated her. "Help him," she said, pointing at Percy, probably thinking she couldn't drag an Ares kid to the Big House by herself.

"Who's Tantalus?" Percy asked.

"The activities director," Clarisse said impatiently.

"Chiron is the activities director," Percy said.

"And where's Argus?" Annabeth added.

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

"But Chiron..." Percy started. "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.

The pine had always looked so 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.

Now they understood why the camp was in danger. The magical borders were failing because Thalia's tree was dying.

Someone had poisoned it.

On the surface, things at Camp Half-Blood didn't look all that different. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley—the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins—a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different Olympian god.

But there was an air of danger now.

Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.

Despite Percy recognizing a lot of faces, no one really greeted them as they made there way to the Big House. Some did double takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties—running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. The camp felt like a military school.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw.

"Whasthat!" he gasped.

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

"Whasthat!"

"Um...those are the toilets."

"Whasthat!"

"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 put you in your dad or mom's group."

He looked at them in awe. "You...have a cabin?"

"Number three." Percy pointed to the low gray building made of sea stone.

Tyson looked as excited as a kid on Halloween. He turned to Sophie, "What's her cabin?"

Sophie looked at Tyson uneasily. She wasn't so sure of Percy becoming friends with a cyclops. But he just seemed like a giant four year old. It was sort of cute. He reminded Sophie of Leila, the way his big eyes- eye, scanned everything with curiosity and wonder. Like he couldn't see the darkness behind it all.

"Cabin eleven." Percy said pointing towards Hermes cabin. "Sophie doesn't know who her mom-"

"Whasthat!"

When they got to the Big House, they found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. As soon as they 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 happening? You're not...leaving?" Her voice was shaky.

Sophie knew that Chiron was like a second father to her. And that camp had been her home for so many years.

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

Percy and Sophie sized eachother up. And Chiron was right. The year before Sophie had been a few inches taller than Percy, but now they were about the same height.

If she had grown, then Annabeth had definitely grown, she was a few inches taller than both of them.

Percy 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 said bitterly.

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

Sophie hummed in agreement. Even though she'd already had this conversation with him.

"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 Latin-English dictionary into his saddlebag while the Frank Sinatra music 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 tried again. "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—"

"Do not invoke the titan lord's name, Percy. Especially not here, not now."

"But last summer he tried to cause a civil war in Olympus! This has to be his idea. He'd get Luke to do it!"

"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."

"What is it?" Percy asked. "We'll go find it!" Sophie nodded along with him.

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 much too dangerous. But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."

"Why?" Percy asked. "I want to do something! I can't just let 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." Chiron turned towards Sophie. "The same warning applies to you. Do not, under any circumstance, leave camp. Keep each other in eyesight."

"But Chiron-" Sophie had a feeling they wouldn't be heading Chiron's advice this summer.

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

"I—I will."

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

Nobody answered.

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

"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 them from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."

Sophie wanted to say that that wouldn't be necessary. Making Annabeth swear something on the River Styx seemed a little...intense.

But Annabeth immediately replied. "I—I swear it upon the River Styx."

Thunder rumbled outside.

"Very well," Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. "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."

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. We must hope...well, perhaps they won't destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Sophie mumbled.

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

A conch horn blew across the valley. Sophie hadn't even 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!"

Sophie was debating between comforting Annabeth and Tyson. Annabeth hugged her, crying hard now, so Sophie hugged her back.

Percy tried to tell them that things would be okay, but even he didn't sound like he believed it.

The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as the campers came up from their cabins. They 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 later. Then she went off to join her siblings from the Athena cabin.

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. 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.

Sophie was waiting to join the line on the Hermes cabin, but she frowned at the note on Clarisse's back and started to make her way over to her.

"Where are you going?" Percy hissed, but Sophie kept walking, ducking through the large and mean looking Ares kids.

Sophie tried to be subtle, as to not embarrass her. She tapped the girl on the shoulder and whispered, "Um, Clarisse."

The girl turned and scowled at her, "What?"

"Theres a note on your back." Sophie whispered.

"What?"

Sophie grabbed the sign and pulled it off her shirt. Clarisse snatched it out of her hands, demanding to see it. Her face colored and she crumpled up the paper and stuffed it away.

She glared down at the table. "Thank you. Now, get back to your table," Clarisse said angrily, while she didn't look, or sound thankful. Just Clarisse saying it was enough.

Sophie didn't mind though. She knew the girl was likely just embarrassed. She wasn't entirely sure why she went to help her. A prank on Clarisse should have been funny to her, since last year she tried to dunk her and Percy's heads into toilet bowls. But seeing her on the battlefield, being easily the bravest of all her cabin-mates, being around her the past two weeks had changed Sophie's view on Clarisse.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as she hopped on the Hermes cabin line as they brought up the rear. Travis and Connor waved at her enthusiastically when they saw her.

Conversations faltered and heads turned towards Tyson and Percy who were in the middle of the pavilion. "Who invited that?" somebody at the Apollo table murmured.

Percy glared in their direction.

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

Percy gritted his teeth. "Percy Jackson...sir."

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.

Next to him was someone new. A pale, horribly thin man in a threadbare orange prisoner's jump-suit. 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. He looked...fractured. Angry and frustrated and hungry all at the same time.

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

"I see. I am Tantalus," the prisoner 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.

Tantalus nodded his grin growing wider, "Yes. You and Sally James caused enough trouble last year."

Percy gritted his teeth, "Its Sophie sir."

Tantalus just waved his hand ignoring Percy. 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, as if he were afraid the goblet was hot.

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 him. "A real scholar, aren't you, boy?"

"You must've done something really horrible when you were alive," Percy said, mildly impressed.

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

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

"Hold up when did I come into this?" Sophie whispered to Travis.

"Your camp has problems already," Percy scoffed.

"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 at."

"C'mon," Percy told Tyson, motioning for him to follow.

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

Sophie narrowed her eyes at him. Even though she could only see his head from where she was sitting, she could hear him fine. The whole camp could.

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

Tyson looked at the demigod with fear in his one big eye.

"I'll be right over here, big guy," Percy promised. "Don't worry. We'll find you a good place to sleep tonight."

Tyson nodded. "I believe you. You are my friend."

That made Percy feel a whole lot guiltier.

He trudged over to the Poseidon table and slumped onto the bench. As he was walking past he caught Sophies eye. She tried to give him a reassuring smile but she could tell it did little when Percy gave her a week nod.

A wood nymph offered her some olive pizza, but she wasn't very hungry. Camp Half-Blood was in serious trouble and Chiron had told them not to do anything about it.

Then, Tantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn to get everyone's 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. Tyson was still standing at the head table, looking uncomfortable, but every time he tried to scoot out of the limelight, Tantalus pulled him back.

"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.

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

"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," Lee Flecher called out from the Apollo table.

"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?"

There was an explosion of excitement amongst the campers. Then, an unlikely person interrupted.

"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table, reaching to feel her to make sure there wasn't another sign stuck to it. "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. "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.

Uneasy murmuring spread among the campers. A lot of sideways looks we're thrown at the named demigods.

"Now, of course," he said, "Cyclopes 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. 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?"

There was silence at the Hermes table. Sophie leaned her head to the side so Tyson could see her, and offered him a half smile. Travis and Connor Stoll developed a sudden interest in the tablecloth. Sophie wanted to nudge them, but she also didn't really blame them for their reaction. Neither did Percy. The Hermes cabin was always full to bursting. There was no way they could take in 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 everybody gasped.

Tantalus scooted away from Tyson in surprise. Swirling over Tyson was a glowing green trident—the same symbol that had appeared above Percy the day Poseidon had claimed him as his son.

There was a moment of awed silence.

Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"

A lot of campers laughed.

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.

Sophie tore her gaze off the glow above Tyson and felt the need to see Percy's reaction.

He definitely didn't look too thrilled. 

I'm sobbing. 10k words. I'm so proud. 🤭

Also TYSM for 8.4k reads. My goal was 10k, but at the speed were going were going to be way over that. I LOVE Y'ALL.🙏🙇‍♂️

I'm sorry if Sophie's conversation with Chiron is basically a repeat of Percy's and Annabeth's. I had no idea what to do.😭

Blake 🫡