chapter twenty-eight

─── apparently, murder is illegal. who knew?

          ℭoming back after not having been at camp for nine months was truly bizarre. Everything looked normal and all, but there was something off about it. On the surface, it was fine. Everything was where it should be, the colour it should have been but there was this air of danger now, and my hair stood on end at every turn I made.

Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counsellors 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 the hill stood out like ugly scars.

As we made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." 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. 

And believe me, I know what they were like. I've been kicked out of a couple.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. "Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The stables for pegasi," I 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 Eleven—that wooden one over there—until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."

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

"Three." I pointed to a low grey building made of sea stone, before turning to look up at Luke, who's face was stormy. Now, I'd seen Luke tense before, but this was a whole different sort of tense.

"You live with friends in the cabin?" Tyson asked, before I could get the chance to ask Luke.

"No. No, just me." I didn't feel like explaining. The embarrassing truth: I was the only one who stayed in that cabin because I wasn't supposed to be alive which, you know, was a bit shit.

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favourite 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, who had appeared from no where and scared the life out of me, ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not...leaving?" Her voice was shaky, disbelieving of it all.

Chiron patted her braids and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. And Andromeda, my goodness. You've grown over the year!"

"Uh, thanks," I replied, feeling a little bit awkward. "Clarisse said you were leaving?"

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humour. "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," I huffed, scrunching my nose up as Luke's hand found mine.

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

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

"What circumstances?" I 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," I said. "What about the tree? What happened?"

He shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Andromeda. 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, Andromeda. 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 Puck to do it,"

"Puck would know how important that tree is to us," Luke backed me up softly, as I squeezed his hand again.

"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?" I 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 my shoulder, looking me straight in the eyes. "Andromeda, 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. Luke, you make sure that she does nothing reckless."

"Why?" I 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."

It was true, but still, I wanted to help so badly. I also wanted to make Kronos pay. He'd manipulated a child, a child? And that was something I would not stand for. The poisoning had to be his doing. Who else would be so low as to attack Thalia's tree, the only thing left of a hero who'd given her life to save her friends?

Annabeth was trying hard not to burst into tears. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay with those two, child," he told her. "Keep them safe. The prophecy—remember it!"

It was much more likely that we'd be looking after her, but it gave Annabeth something to keep her mind of the situation.

"I—I will."

"Um..." I 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, great," I muttered. "Just checking."

"Chiron..." Luke 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 Andromeda from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."

"I swear it upon the River Styx," Luke didn't hesitate, swearing quickly as thunder rumbled outside. I narrowed my eyes at him, stopping Annabeth before she too could swear it.

"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."

Annabeth nodded, before wrapping her arms around Luke, who soothed her gently.

"Who is this Tantalus guy, anyway?" I 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, Andromeda, 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!"

"I'm always in danger," I mumbled.

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

I realized I'd forgotten to tell Chiron about my dream of Grover. Now it was too late. The best teacher I'd ever had was gone, maybe for good.

"Tyson, it's alright," I tried to tell him, as Luke led the four of us down to the dining pavilion.

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 Six—a dozen boys and girls with startling grey eyes like hers. Annabeth wasn't the oldest, somewhere in the middle of it all as she followed her siblings in.

Next came Clarisse, leading Five. 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.

After Five came Nine—six guys led by Charles Beckendorf, a big sixteen-year-old African American kid. He had hands the size of catchers' mitts and a face that was hard and squinty from looking into a blacksmiths forge all day. He was nice enough once you got to know him, but no one ever called him Charlie or Chuck or Charles. Most just called him Beckendorf. Rumour was he could make anything. Give him a chunk of metal and he could create a razor-sharp sword or a robotic warrior or a singing birdbath for your grandmother's garden. 

Whatever you wanted.

The other cabins filed in close behind. Naiads came up from the canoe lake. Dryads melted out of the trees. From the meadow came a dozen satyrs, who reminded me painfully of Grover.

After the satyrs filed in to dinner, Eleven brought up the rear. They were always the biggest cabin. 

"I've got to go, Andi," Luke murmured, shooting me a soft look. "I'll see you after dinner."

"Yeah, see you," He hurried off to the front of Eleven's line, shoving a couple of his siblings in a good natured way, as they attempted to prank him.

Finally, I led Tyson into the middle of the pavilion. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. "Who invited that?" somebody at Apollo's table murmured.

I glared in their direction, but I couldn't figure out who'd spoken.

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

How was that anywhere near my name?

I gritted my teeth. "Andromeda 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. 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, where Chiron usually sat (or stood, in centaur form), was someone I'd never seen before—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 grey hair, like his last haircut had been done with a weed whacker. He stared at me; his eyes made me nervous. He looked...fractured. Angry and frustrated and hungry all at the same time.

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

"Ah!" the prisoner said. "That one."

His tone made it obvious that he and Dionysus had already discussed me at length. I cracked my knuckles behind my back, shooting him a smile.

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

"Of course, Sir," I replied, taking another deep breath.

I can't kill a teacher. I can't kill a teacher. I can't kill a teacher.

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

Murder is bad. Murder equals prison. Murder would mean my mom would kill me.

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.

"Go on, then, old fellow," Dionysus said, a strange 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?"

Luke turned and shot me glare, shaking his head and I kept my mouth closed as I realized who it was. I'd heard this tale.

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

"Your camp has problems already...sir."

"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 have no siblings to sit with," I muttered quietly, before walking to my table. "Come on, Tyson."

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

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

The new activities director raised an eyebrow.

"Tyson saved the camp," I insisted. "He destroyed 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 me with fear in his one big eye, but I knew I couldn't disobey a direct order from the camp directors. Not openly, anyway.

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

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

Which made me feel a whole lot guiltier.

I trudged over to Poseidon's table and slumped onto the bench. A wood nymph brought me a plate of Olympian olive-and-pepperoni pizza, but I wasn't hungry. I'd been almost killed twice today. I'd managed to end my school year with a complete disaster. Camp Half-Blood was in serious trouble and Chiron had told me not to do anything about it.

I didn't feel very thankful, but I took my dinner, as was customary, up to the bronze brazier and scraped part of it into the flames.

"Dad" I murmured, "enjoy the pizza."

And send me some help while you're at it, I prayed silently. Please.

The smoke from the burning pizza changed into some-thing fragrant—the smell of a clean sea breeze with wild-flowers mixed in—but I had no idea if that meant my father was really listening.

I went back to my seat. I didn't think things could get much worse. But then Tantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn 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 half-hearted 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. I turned to look at Luke, who's eyes were narrowed. Whatever that was, didn't sound good at all.

"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," 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 the last person I expected to 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 every-thing to ready our chariots—"

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

Clarisse blinked, turning to look at me as we both shared confused looks. "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. Andromeda Jackson and Annabeth Chase have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here." Tantalus waved a hand toward Tyson.

"Uh, sir?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "That was on me."

Tantalus ignored him.

"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 a pause, but Luke shook his head and I couldn't blame him. They were full to the bursting with unclaimed and Hermes campers. He couldn't take a 6ft 3 cyclops as well, and I knew how Luke felt about cyclops. He had a lot of unresolved issues in his past, and cyclops were one of them.

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

Suddenly everybody gasped.

Tantalus scooted away from Tyson in surprise. All I could do was stare in disbelief at the brilliant green light that was about to change my life—a dazzling holographic image that had appeared above Tyson's head.

With a sickening twist in my stomach, I remembered what I had been told about Cyclopes, They're the children of nature spirits and gods...Well, one god in particular, usually...

Swirling over Tyson was a glowing green trident—the same symbol that had appeared above me the day Poseidon had claimed me as his daughter.

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'd been claimed by Poseidon last summer, everyone had reverently knelt. Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"

I wanted to launch myself onto the god, but Luke had appeared by my side, grabbing me around the waist and removing my pen from my grip. He kept a tight grip of me as my anger issues made a reappearance.

"Calm down," He hissed, sitting us back down as there was confused laughter around the pavilion. Most followed Luke's lead, as he was the oldest at camp and one of the best fighters they had, so if he wasn't laughing, they didn't.

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 had a new cabin mate. I had a monster for a half-brother and I was going to kill the new Camp Director.

∘☽༓☾∘

Hiya,

Andi is just down for murder and Luke's set on making sure she doesn't try to kill anyone cause he would prefer her to be out of jail. Got to love them.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx