Percy Jackson

Middle schoolers (and teenagers) are the meanest motherfuckers on the planet.

The morning after I was claimed, Chiron moved me to cabin 3, though I was basically shunned out of Cabin 11 that night. Luke had to lecture another kid to let me sleep in my spot. He apologized for them, but it didn't stop what had happened.

Cabin 3 was pretty big. I was the only one and didn't have to share. I got to sit at my own table at dinner, pick all of my own activities (goodbye wrestling), and call "lights out" whenever I wanted to.

In other words, I was miserable.

Just as I was starting to feel accepted, to feel like I had a home in cabin 11 and like I might get to be a normal kid— or as normal as you can be here— I was ostracized. Separated like I had some sort of disease.

My second night in the cabin, when I hadn't called light outs yet even though it was well past any reasonable bedtime, I heard a knock on the door.

"It's open." I called, not having the energy to get up. I just hoped it wasn't a monster. 

Thankfully, it was just my best friend.

"Hey, you're still up." He said, closer the door behind him. "how uh— how are you liking the new cabin?"

I shrugged.

"It's cool."

Which was really code for I haven't fallen asleep yet because I have a knot in my chest that I think might be another mental breakdown.

"Cool?" The satyr questioned, setting down a little gift baggie by the door as he walked over and sat at the edge of my bed. "Percy, our dorm was cool. You look... Depressed."

I shrugged again.

"The only people that will talk to me are you, Annabeth, and Luke," I reasoned with my best friend. "And even Annabeth is hesitant. What's there to be happy about?"

"You know who your dad is now." But as he said it, Grover knew that that was a weak selling point.

"Oh, yeah," I said half-sarcastically, because I didn't know how else to cope with it. "now I know who I'll probably never meet and will never receive anything from because I'm not even supposed to exist. That's wonderful. Wonderful enough to be treated like a freak by the rest of camp. Because I haven't been treated like that enough already for a million other reasons."

A blanket of silence fell over Grover and I for a moment after the claim i made, because it was true, but he didn't know how to address it because he obviously didn't know everything there was to know about it.

If you can think of a minority group, I probably apply—with the exception of being a man.

Over the course of my life, both children and adults—grown ass adults, have used these things as excuses to treat me like I'm special.

Trust me, when you're not a child prodigy, special isn't good.

I remember when I was in kindergarten or first grade, a kid in my class started using an eraser on my arm to "erase the color from my skin." Being half Brazilian and half... Greek, I guess, I was darker than a lot of kids in the schools i went to. A teacher once told me it was important to know how to find surface area and volume if I wanted to be good at laying concrete one day.

Gabe laid into that teacher and I think might've gotten them fired for saying that. Because Gabe is white, so he has that kind of power. He defended me against many teachers, back when he cared.

Mom would, too, obviously, but as a woman of color, they usually didn't take her seriously.

Growing up poor and going to schools where kids weren't poor? They didn't even have to try to make me feel bad. Yancy was awful for that, especially first semester.

Somehow, everyone knows when you're a scholarship kid. If I had a nickel for every time I heard "if your parents can afford it..." I'd probably be rich.

Have you ever gone to a Christian school as somebody who doesn't believe in God?

Wouldn't recommend it.

This last year alone, rumors started circling around Yancy Academy that I uh, didn't like girls, and while that was a rumor Nancy Bobofit never seemed to pick on me about, most other kids did once they got over the fact that I'm poor.

Grover never asked about it, but I know he heard the rumors because he was with me when the students would occasionally throw slurs at either of us.

He's never asked, so I've never confirmed or denied. But it made me feel spectacular when Clarisse somehow clocked me and called me a fruitcake during Capture the Flag.

The cherry on top? Being dyslexic and having ADHD, which aren't drawbacks here, but cause me hell in the real world.

I guess the Fates decided that making my dad be Poseidon was compensation for that.

"Percy..." Grover said, his expression saddened. He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"It's fine." I insisted. "I mean it's not, but it's not like I can do anything about it without seeming like an asshole."

I paused, taking a breath.

"I'm sorry." I apologized with another sigh. "I just—it's been a whole week. You shouldn't have to listen to me vent when you have your own stuff going on, right? Mr. D's been on your ass, hasn't he? And now that we know who my dad is... I'm sorry if that makes getting your license thingy even harder."

"Wh— hey, don't apologize," Grover told me, squeezing my shoulder as he spoke in a soft tone. "You have no control over that, Percy, and neither do I. Mr. D has backed off a little. Right now, were just waiting. And waiting is something I can do because it's usually easier than doing something."

"Usually."

For a while, another blanket of silence fell over the two of us as I started to get lost in thought: thinking about my mom, about Gabe, and about my dead beat dad, Poseidon. About how I wish I'd been claimed by a different god. About how I wanted to understand what seemed to scare kids so much about me.

It couldn't just be that I punched Clarisse. Something about being claimed as Poseidon's kid...

Children of the Big Three demigods have stronger powers.

But that doesn't make us evil.

I missed my mom.

I missed Gabe, even.

Not necessarily the Gabe I'd met at home currently, but my dad Gabe. The one who seemed to die with mom's miscarriage.

I missed a family that never was. The kid they never had, the little sibling i never had.

And now, will never get.

I wonder where in the Underworld my mom ended up— if she really is gone.

Would I end up in the same place as her if I somehow...

"-Percy?" Grover's voice cut through my thoughts once more, pulling me back to reality. "Earth to Percy? Dude, what's going on up there?"

But I didn't know if I wanted to even try and articulate that last thought for him, so I only half lied.

"Just... Thinking." I said, which was true. "about my mom and dad and— Gabe, not Poseidon."

"What about them?"

I looked down.

"I miss them."

"Even Gabe?"

I nodded my head.

"What about you?" I asked, not knowing how things worked for satyrs when it came to like, living with parents and stuff. "I don't think I've seen your parents around. Do they not live at camp?"

Feeling Grover's hand and watching the rest of his body decompress, I was worried that I'd hit a soft spot.

"Um, in theory, they do," my best friend answered. "But Chiron, Mr. D, and I are all pretty sure they died years ago. Like... I don't even know when. My uncle took me in after that, but he went out on a search after that and never returned so... It's just me."

"It's just..."

Holding my breath, I propped myself up on my elbow to better look at Grover, who seemed so... Okay.

He just told me that his parents were gone, plus his uncle, and yet he sounded perfectly fine.

"Grover," I said, forcing the satyr to look up at me. "Are you okay? That's... A lot. You've never mentioned that before. I mean, you never talked a lot about life outside of school and I understand why now because it'd be a lot to have a consistent lie for this but... Are you okay?"

"I'm alright, Percy," he told me and I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "seriously, I'm doing okay. It's been years and I have friends here. Plus, Chiron and Mr. D, even if Mr. D isn't always the nicest person. How do you think your dad is handling your mom..."

I shrugged.

"I don't know." I was honest. "I've thought about it a few times, but I'm not sure if I want to talk to Chiron about it. Part of that is also just me hoping that she isn't dead yet, either, and that like... I don't know, she was just kidnapped or something. Mostly because Chiron hasn't said she's dead, which is weird."

"It is weird." Grover agreed. "maybe if you go talk to him about Gabe, he'll tell you. You look tired, though, and I'm also tired, so I'm going to head to my place to get some rest."

"You're gonna—"

But as Grover stood up, I felt a wave of panic wash through me that I had to fight down and swallow before I could say anything else.

I don't want to be alone.

"Wait," I said, as if he weren't half way to the door already. "It's super late, G-man, you'll never make it back in time. Where do you even sleep?"

"Just in the woods," he insisted, which was concerning. "Not like— not out in the wild, I have a little cabin. Most of the satyrs do.  I promise I have a bed."

Grover looked outside as the sun was definitely down, though I doubted it was time for curfew.

"Is it really that late?"

But for the first time in my life, I was trying to prevent myself from spiraling into a crisis at 3am, so I lied and nodded my head.

"Hm. Odd. Are you sure it's alright that I crash here?"

Once again, I nodded my head as Grover sat down where he had been moments earlier, at the end of my bed.

"Hey, Grover."

"Hm?"

"Can you tell me more about camp?" I asked my best friend, hoping it'd be a good distraction. "You've lived here like, your whole life, right? Do you have any good stories?"

Smiling, Grover launched into a story about trying to help the strawberries grow as a kid with his parents, which tied into a story about how bad he was at playing reed pipes. I feel asleep to Grover telling me how to play a reed pipe, though I doubted I'd ever actually play one.

•••

The next morning, I woke up to find Grover also asleep in my cabin, which confused me until I remembered that I basically asked him up stay over.

Didn't think he'd fall asleep in my bed, but I guess I feel asleep pretty early last night, so it works.

It's not like it's the first time that's happened, but it's one of very few. Once a month or so, Grover and I would do a movie night in our dorm at Yancy and a few times we'd fall asleep before the movie ended and wake up really confused.

Looking towards the front door of the cabin, I realized that the sound that woke me up was a newspaper coming in through the mail slot (which I didn't realize existed until now). It was opened already.

I wasn't sure what was more odd: the fact that i got a newspaper delivery, or that it was already opened.

Slipping out of bed, I tried not to wake Grover as I approached the New York Post newspaper, seeing it opened to an article that I didn't want to read.

Thanks to my dyslexia and the fact that I was still waking up, it took a minute to make the title out.

BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT
by Eileen Smyth

"Hm? Oh, Percy, hi," Grover's voice spoke from behind me, still in my bed. Looking back at him, he smiled, making me feel a little warm in my chest. "Good morning, did you sleep well? What are... Is that a newspaper?"

"Yeah, somebody just dropped it off," I explained. "Good morning to you, too. Do cabins usually get a newspaper delivered to them?"

Shaking his head, Grover told me that he's never heard of that since they live too far out of the city to get anything delivered. Plus, kids are dyslexic.

"Speaking of which," he offered. "Do you want me to read out the article you have open?"

That was my reminder that he wasn't dyslexic.

"Oh, yeah, that would save me a headache." I agreed, walking back towards my bed and handing him the open paper. "I've only read the title."

Sitting up, Grover took the paper and his eyes immediately widened, which seemed concerning.

"BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT.
by Eileen Smyth

Sally Jackson and her son Percy are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. Their family's 1978 Camaro was found badly burned last Saturday on a Long Island Road with it's front axle broken and roof ripped off. Officer's say that the car rolled several time and slid a a few hundred feet before exploding.

Sally and Percy had gone for a vacation to Montauk, but left hastily Saturday night under mysterious circumstances. Traces of blood were found in the car, but no other signs of the Jackson's have been found. Nobody in the rural area reported seeing anything strange, and some suggested the severe thunderstorm Saturday night could have been reason for the accident. Officials haven't completely ruled this out, though the chances seem unlikely.

Mrs. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that Percy is a troubled kid who's expressed violent tendencies in the past, though also insisted that "Percy would never raise his voice to Sally, much less hurt her." Police would not say whether Percy was a suspect in his mother's disappearance, but foul play hasn't been ruled out.

Below are some recent photos of both Sally and Percy Jackson. Police urge anyone with information to call the number below."

As Grover read the article, I had to be conscious about not getting visibly angry. I balled my fists and took a stiffened breath.

"They... They think that I could've done that?"

Before Grover could respond, there was a quick knock and somebody opened the door.

"Wh—"

"Hey, Mr. D wants to see...." Annabeth's voice faltered, as she looked between Grover and I. "You. What are you doing here, Grover?"

Grover held up the newspaper.

"Helping Percy read a paper somebody dropped off!" He smiled. "Which one of us did Mr. D want to see?"

"Percy," she answered, skeptical of his answer. "What's the paper about?"

"Mine and my mom's disappearance." I answered. "What does Mr. D want?"

"To k— talk to you." Annabeth corrected herself partway through. "I don't know what about, I'm just the messenger. Can I see the newspaper?"

"Can you read it?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Grover, what did it say?"

"I, uh, I'll tell you later." Grover said, sensing that I didn't want to have to explain Gabe's whole situation to Annabeth before I've even had breakfast. "Or Percy can if he wants to, but we should get to breakfast."

Sighing, Annabeth said something under her breaths about boys being stupid before leaving the cabin, as if what the New York Post says about my mom and me being MIA is any of her business.

Fun fact: it's not.

"Sorry," Grover apologized for the daughter of Athena as I got dressed and we left the cabin for the Big House. "Annabeth can be... Judgemental. She doesn't mean it."

I had a feeling that, to at least some capacity, she did mean it, but I decided to keep my mouth shut.

Outside, there was a nasty storm not far from camp, and while I knew that it wouldn't actually rain or storm here because of the barrier, it still made me anxious. Of course, I wasn't the only one. A lot of the kids around camp seemed to be busy multitasking with their normal activities and then eyeing the storm and eyeing me.

Getting summoned to the big house wasn't that big of a surprise. Ever since I was claimed, I'd expected it. Most of my life I'd felt like I wasn't supposed to be born, but now it wasn't just a feeling. It was a fact.

Like they were my first day, Chiron and Mr. D were sitting on the porch outside, playing pinochle together like an old married couple. There were also two sets of cards, floating like invisible players.

"Well, well," Mr. D said, not even looking up. "Our little celebrity."

I bit my tongue.

"Come closer," the god told me. "and don't expect me to kowtow to you just because barnacle brain is your father, half-blood."

"I—"

If another person calls me a half-blood, I'm going to lose my barnacles.

"Now, if it were up to me, I'd just cause your molecules to erupt in flames." Mr. D said, which seemed to be pretty on brand for him. "We'd sweep up the ashes and be safe from a lot of trouble. But Chiron feels like that goes against my job here to protect you brats from harm, and some... Others have insisted on keeping your particles the way they are."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D." Chiron reminded the god, as gently as he may remind him that he has a dentist appointment later today.

"Nonsense, the boy wouldn't feel a thing!" The god argued. "Regardless, I've agreed to restrain myself. Maybe if I turn you into a dolphin and send you to your father—"

"Mr. D." Chiron lectured.

"Fine!" Mr. D said as he stood up. "There's still one other option. I'm off to Olympus for a meeting. If the boy's still here when I return, I'm sending him home—to his father's palace, not to whatever pathetic excuse of a residence he was in before now, do you understand? If you have any sense, kid, you'll see that that's a much better option than what Chiron has to offer you."

Snapping his fingers, Mr. D went from a god to a hologram, to a faint glow before disappearing, leaving behind the smell of fresh grapes.

Chiron smiled at the two of us, but it seemed strained. He looked tired. "Have a seat, you two. Please."

As the two of us sat down, Chiron laid his cards on the table— a winning hand he didn't get to use.

"Tell me, Percy," the centaur began. "What did you think of that hellhound?"

Now, I'm sure that Chiron wanted me to brush it off like almost getting killed by a hellhound wasn't a big deal. Especially since I'd taken on the Minotaur, right?

But I didn't think this was a good time to lie. When it involved possibly getting turned into a dolphin.

"It... Scared me." I said, shrugging. "I probably would've died had you not shot it. Why do you ask?"

"Because," he reasoned. "You'll face far worse by the time you're done."

"Done? With what?"

"Why, your quest, of course," my old Latin teacher said, as this was something he taught me in a unit. "will you accept it?"

Would I accept...

Was Chiron already kicking me out?

I just got here.

I just got here, why would he just send me away to somewhere that wasn't my apartment?

Camp is supposed to be the safest place in the world for me and I've only been here for like, a week, and he's going to send me away and...

Is it because I haven't given him my best?

Or, at least not his definition of best.

"My quest? You haven't..." But maybe I missed a meeting last night. "You haven't explained what it is, sir."

Chiron grimaced.

"Well, that's the hard part, isn't it? The details."

They're the important parts, I thought to myself.

As if in response, thunder rumbled. Across the valley, I could see that the clouds had reached the end of the beach, and it looked like the sky and seas were boiling into one.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I realized as the events of the last six or so months since the weather got weird clicked into place. "They're fighting, right? Something valuable that was stolen or something? That's why the weather's been so weird."

Grover and Chiron exchanged looks, Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair.

"How did you know?"

"I mean it's not... Hard to see," I figured, motioning to the weather. "But I've also had a couple weird dreams."

"I knew it!" Grover said.

"Hush, satyr." Chiron ordered, which caused me to give him a stern look because you don't talk to my best friend like that.

Mr. D is the only exception, sort of, because he's a god who could kill me in about four seconds. And he's also technically Grover's like, manager, I think? It seems weird.

"But it's his quest!" Grover's eyes lit up as I recalled what we'd spoken about earlier, before I was claimed. "It has to be, sir!"

If I go on a quest and come back alive, Grover gets his searchers license.

If I come back alive.

I wonder how long Luke had to train before he went on his quest.

"Only the Oracle can say." Chiron insisted, effectively shutting Grover down. "But, yes, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries."

"My... Please don't call him that."

Ignoring my request, Chiron explained to me that Zeus's Master Bolt had been stolen at the solstice, and if nobody returned it by the summer solstice, there would probably be a civil war. Zeus currently assumes that my dad has it, and since he just claimed me and gods can't steal each other's token of powers...

"Stolen? By who?"

"By whom." Chiron corrected, which made me want to tip his wheelchair over. "By you, of course."

"But I wasn't on Olympus."

"Zeus doesn't seem to think that matters."

Oh, so he's like every teacher I've ever had. Good to know.

"I didn't even know the gods existed then! He's crazy!"

Grover glanced at the sky nervously.

"Percy, I wouldn't use the c word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

Oh, I'll call him that to his face, I thought.

"Neither do many people who encounter them," Chiron insisted. "You must be the one who returns in, child. Based on the monsters you've witnessed, one can assume that there's another god behind the scene who would've taken it: the brother often forgotten. That isn't me."

"Ha..." Not wanting the storm to get worse, I paused before finishing the name. "The Lord of the Underworld? But how would I get it from him? Or even get to the Underworld? Why won't Poseidon just admit that he didn't do it? Why..."

"Your father is too proud, Perseus. If the gods go to war, the world will fall into chaos, and you'll be the first one to feel Zeus's wrath."

Beyond the porch, rain started to pour down across camp. Games of volleyball came to a standstill as everyone stared up at the sky before making their way indoors. I caught a few kids look my way.

Because this was my fault.

Because I was born, this was suddenly my fault.

And because it's "my fault", I don't deserve to be or feel safe. I don't deserve to reside in the one place in the world where I'm safe.

What wonderful parents the gods were.

"Consult the Oracle." He insisted, which wasn't helpful and only played into the issue at hand: us not knowing the actual thief. "In the attic. It'll tell you all you need to know. After you've heard it out, return to us and tell us what it said."

To say I was furious would be an understatement.

"So I have to find the fucking thing? And return it?"

"What better peace offering, no? Consult the Oracle, child, before I wash your mouth out with soap."

"So where is it?"

"I... Believe I know. But you must formally accept and consult the Oracle first."

Glancing at Grover, I caught him nodding his head at a rate that might give him a concussion.

Easy for him to say, right? He's not the one Zeus wants dead.

"Alright." I sighed. "I guess it's better than being turned into a dolphin, right? Fine. Sure. I'll take it."

"Then head to the attic." He repeated for the millionth time. "Consult the Oracle. If you're still sane when you return, we'll discuss details."

I hope this sends me to a psych ward.

Up in the attic, which was five stories up, it smelled of mildew and something... Reptilian? Like the smell of snakes.

I hated snakes, but I continued on anyways.

The attic was filled with Greek hero junk: bits of armor, keepsakes and spoils of war— faded shields, pickled eyes, claws and so forth. Some stickers with ancient locations on it.

On the far end of the room, placed on a tripod stool was what I assumed was some sort of mummy they called the Oracle. She wasn't some sort of Halloween costumed mummy, though— she was... Deceased. Wearing a dress that must've dated her to the 1960s and hair that barely existed in patches. Her eyes were clear and glassy, like her real eyes had been replaced with marbles years ago. Looking at her sent a chill up my spine.

And then she sat up and my soul nearly sprinted out of my body. A green mist flooded out of her body, coiling on the ground in thick tendrils and hissing like thousands of snakes.

I stumbled backwards, hoping to maybe find an exit, but the trap door snapped shut.

Inside my head, I heard a voice slither into one ear and wrap around the tendrils in my brain in the most invasive way you could imagine.

I am the voice of Delphi, the voice informed me. speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask.

I'd rather not, I tried to think it return but it apparently didn't hear or just didn't care.

Forcing myself to take a breath, I reminded myself that she wasn't alive. She was... Something, but not alive and her presense also didn't feel malicious or evil like Mrs. Dodds and the Minotaur did when I was around them. It was just... Intense. Invasive.

Very invasive.

Swallowing, I took a step forward and asked the question that I hoped would get the answer I needed.

"What is my destiny?"

Slowly, the green mist started to change until I was seeing a familiar sight: Gabe and his poker buddies around our kitchen table.

Seeing them made me clench my fists before remembering that they, too, aren't real. Gabe wouldn't just... He has to be worried about us, right? He wouldn't just drown himself in gambling and drinking and...

And if he did, I guess I wouldn't blame him.

Before I could think any more about that, Gabe turned to face me and spoke with the voice of the Oracle.

You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.

His buddy on the right looked up and said in the same voice: you shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned.

To Gabe's left, somebody threw in two poker chips and chimed in: You shall be betrayed by one who calls you friend.

Lastly, our landlord Eddie delivered a line worse than any eviction notice he could think of writing: and you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.

Before I could react, the figured began to dissolve. But as the mist recoiled back into the horrific mummy from which it came, I cried, scrambling forward in a desperation.

"Wait!" I called out. "What do you mean? What friend? What will I fail to save? What...?"

As I tried to reach out and grab it, the last of the green mist slithered into the mouth of the mummy and she slumped over as she had been before. Her mouth sealed, as if it hasn't spoken in a hundred years.

The silence in the attic became deafening.

My audience with the Oracle was over.

Having a feeling that, no matter how long I stood here, I wouldn't learn any more than I already had, I walked back to the trap door and found it open— ready for me to return to my party downstairs.

"Well?" Chiron asked, sounding impatient as I returned.

I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table.

"She said I'd retrieve what was stolen."

Grover sat forward, seeming excited by the news as he chewed on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great, Percy!"

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed, making me more stressed than Grover was able to relieve me. "This is important."

Then why didn't you tell me to bring a pen and paper? I thought to myself, knowing that it's a miracle that I even remembered what she said.

"She..." I held my breath for a moment. "she said I would go west and face the god who turned. I'd retrieve what was stolen and see it returned."

"I knew it." Grover said to himself with a little smile.

"Anything else?" Chiron asked, not looking satisfied.

But I didn't want to tell him. Chiron, sure— but I didn't want to tell Grover.

Does that make me a bad friend? What friend would betray me? I didn't have many.

And the last line— why would you send someone on a quest when the prophecy always says that, oh, by the way, the person is going to fail?

How could I confess that to Chiron, who will only accept the best from me?

"No." I insisted. "That's about it."

For a moment the centaur studied me, and I don't think he bought the lie, but he decided to give in to it.

"Very well." He decided. "But remember, Percy: the oracles words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth often isn't clear until the events come to pass."

Was the old man trying to make me feel better? Maybe, but it was only making me feel worse.

"Okay," I responded, anxious to change the topic. "so now what? Where do I go? You said out west, right? Hades or whatever? He'd like... Gain a lot of Zeus and Poseidon went to war, right?"

"Wo— woah." Grover cut in. "Chiron, you're not suggesting... It couldn't be in Maine? Maine is very nice this time of year."

"I'm afraid you'll have to endeavor to the Underworld." Chiron apologized in tone. "He must have a spy within the camp, I'll investigate more once you have departed, Percy. I don't pretend to understand his motives, but it's clear to me that you must go to the Underworld, retrieve the bolt, and restore peace on Olympus."

Now, dear reader, I personally wouldn't charge a hyperactive 12 year old who is currently a wanted suspect for possible manslaughter, or at the very least, arson charges, with this responsibility.

But Chiron seemed confident about it, and theoretically the two thousand something year old trainer would know more than the 12 year old trainee, so I just nodded my head.

The weird thing was that I got a sinking feeling in my stomach that wasn't fear, but rather anticipation. If my mom was in the Underworld...

"Wait." I said. "If we know it's Hades, why can't we just tell the gods again?"

Chiron heaved a sigh.

"Suspecting and knowing aren't the same, Percy." He reminded me. "plus, gods can't cross each other's territory. Furthermore, no god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods usually operate through humans?"

And just like that, my anticipation twisted into something more intense. Something closer to anger.

"You're telling me I'm being used?"

He shrugged.

"I'm saying it's no coincidence you were claimed when you were."

I looked at Chiron, realizing something that I could hardly believe after everything I'd learned from him over the last year since we'd met.

"You knew my dad was Poseidon all along." The sentence left a sour taste in my mouth. "and you didn't say anything."

He had the audacity to give me a smug smile.

"I had my suspicions— I've spoken with the Oracle as well, previously." The centaur insisted. "Claiming you was a risky gamble, Percy. He needs you."

My dad needs me.

Emotions rolled inside of me like a kaleidoscope and I didn't know which one to settle on— frustrated, angry, grateful, resentful.

I needed my dad for 12 years and he didn't care. And all of a sudden he needs me and I'm supposed to care?

And you know what? I do care.

But I don't care because of him.

I care because of my mom and because of Gabe. Because I don't want to see my actual dad, my real dad, get worse if she truly is gone. I want to have a fighting chance at getting her back.

I care because if I don't return the stupid fucking lighting bolt, my world will fall apart and I'll never get the chance to be happy.

I care for a number of reasons, and none of them are related to the guy my mom had sex with almost 13 years ago.

"Alright." I steeled my expression. "So now what? We... Don't fly, right? That would be like, really expensive."

"You're the child of the Sea God, Perseus," Chiron risked my full name as he spoke. "Zeus would know where you are immediately and you wouldn't survive the flight."

"Mhm." I hummed, suppressing my growing frustrations with the centaur. "So we travel overland?"

"Correct. You can bring two others with you. Grover would be one, and another has already volunteered— if you'll have her."

"If I'll have her?" I repeated the phrase back to him. "It's a quest, Chiron, not a wedding. And who on Earth is dumb enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"

Making herself visible, Annabeth put her Yankees cap in her back pocket and smiled.

"I've been waiting for a quest for a long time, Seaweed Brain," she said. "Athena and Poseidon aren't exactly best friends, but if it's your job to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

"If you say so," I suppressed the urge to call her a smartass. "I suppose you have a plan, Wise Girl?"

Her cheeked turned pink. "Do you want my help or not?"

Want and need are two very different words, but in this case, they ended in the same outcome, so I settled for a yes.

"A trio." I said. "That'll work."

"Excellent." Chiron smiled. "This afternoon we can take you as far as the Manhattan bus terminal. After that, you three are on your own."

Lightning flashed and the rainfall became even heavier across a camp that was never meant to experience this type of weather.

"Well, no time to waste." He excused the three of us. "best get to packing and I'll see you all shortly."