The boy had been running for what seemed like hours before he came to a stop behind a large pine. He'd been trying to escape that particular monster for what seemed like years, and while he didn't believe for a second that he'd managed to outwit it, he knew he had to take a break. After all, he was only a kid, barely nine years old. How could he be expected to run forever? Right then he almost wished he could turn back and go home. It wasn't the first time he'd pondered that notion, but no, his mother was crazy and she scared him. His father did nothing to help and Luke just couldn't live with her anymore. He loved his mother, sure, but he could never go back to that life.
Having caught his breath, Luke slumped down against the trunk of the tree with a yawn. Maybe he could catch a quick cat nap before he had to start running again. He didn't know how to beat the monsters yet, but he was quicker and cleverer than them and he always got away.
"Yeah," he thought to himself, his eyelids drooping. "Just a quick nap…"
With that, he fell asleep. A few hours later the hellhound that had been sniffing Luke out for days passed by that same pine tree. Tucked away under a blanket of its needles lay the boy, safely concealed from the beast's senses. Luke was not yet as powerful a demigod as most, and the smell of pine covered his scent. The hound continued on, oblivious to the boy sleeping just a few feet away. That was the first time a pine tree protected him.
Two years later and Luke was 11. He could fight monsters now as well as run from them, and though the first option was certainly more fun, running was usually easier. He was a scrawny kid after all, and most monsters were way out of his league. So he ran, and he hid. Of course, Luke had made a few friends throughout his never-ending journey. There was Markus, a seemingly harmless kid who was a year younger, but he had turned out to be an empousa. Jo and Madge were orphaned twin sisters, older than him. They'd traveled together for a few months before a group of harpies caught up to them in the night, ripping the sisters apart. Luke had only just escaped. Most recently, there had been his first satyr, Rory. That one had probably hurt Luke the most. For the first time, he had had a best friend, but the manticore had ripped him away before they'd even gotten to the fabled Camp Half-Blood. The worst part was that Luke had had to watch his best friend be ripped apart front of him, with no way of stopping it.
That last friendship had ended weeks ago, and while it still hurt Luke to remember Rory, or to consider travelling with another, he was moving on. His new quest was to find Camp Half-Blood. The place where Rory had said kids like him could live without being hunted, and where he'd be able to learn how to kill the monsters. The only problem was, Luke didn't know where this Camp was, only that they had been heading East from Indiana. That left miles of terrain for Luke to search, and to make it all worse, the manticore still had his ever-growing scent. Oh yeah, Rory had explained a whole load of demigod stuff to Luke, and the scent was one of them. Of course, his friend had also added that by telling him all that new info, he was putting Luke in more danger at the same time he was protecting him, but it had needed to be said.
So Luke was in some town in Pennsylvania, unsure of what he was looking for, exactly, but knowing he had to look. He could sense that something wasn't right, which meant that either the manticore or another monster was near. There went the fantasy of being able to swipe some more food from whatever market or gas station he came upon next. He had to get out of there or innocent mortals would get hurt. Veering off the road, he ran into the woods for the fifth time that day, which was saying something considering he'd only been on the road for an hour.
Immediately, he was knocked to the ground. Hot, moist, reeking carbon dioxide was blown at him from the mouth of the manticore as the beast pressed down on his shoulders, snarling. Luke wiggled around under the weight, his hands pushing against the paws, but it was futile, he couldn't move.
"This is it," he thought despairingly. "I'll never find that camp and I'll never know how to kill a monster the right way. I'm eleven years old and I'm gonna die and no one will even know."
Some dryad must have taken pity on him, though, for in that instant he heard a massive CRACK. A second later, a tall but thin pine soared down, slamming into the manticore's lower half but completely missing Luke himself. Dead, the predator fell on top of the boy, nearly crushing him under the weight. Fortunately, Luke managed to slip out. That was the second time a pine tree protected Luke Castellan.
"Running again, always running," Luke thought bitterly as he gripped Annabeth's tiny hand in his. On his left was Thalia, a punk-rock daughter of Zeus with a magic shield and a death glare as powerful as a nuke. On Annabeth's right ran Grover, the tweeny satyr that had been sent from Camp Half-Blood to protect Thalia. The four of them were sprinting down Long Island Road, a horde of Tartarus' best on their heels. They were so close, Grover said. Just a little further, they just had to make it over that big hill. A few more yards. But then Annabeth tripped. She immediately got to her feet, but it had slowed them down. The front line of monsters was barely a yard away, and closing in rapidly.
"GO!" Luke heard Thalia scream. He watched her activate her shield, a terrifying thing with the head of Medusa shaped into it. She didn't stop, but she was slowing down. Luke knew what she was going to do, but how could he let her?
"Thalia, NO!" He yelled back at her, wanting to grab her arm and drag her along with him but not wanting to slow down enough to put Annabeth in danger.
"Take Annabeth, Luke. Grover, get them to safety, I'll hold the monsters off." Thalia insisted.
"I can't let you-" Grover began, but the daughter of Zeus cut him off with a shove, causing him to stumble up the large hill towards safety. Blindly, Luke followed, Annabeth in tow, not registering what he was leaving behind. A few monsters nearly got to him, but they were hacked down immediately. Thalia was going down fighting.
At the top of the hill, Luke pushed Annabeth towards Grover and drew his own weapon, meaning to rush back down and stand with his friend. He couldn't even find her in the throng, but he knew she was alive. She had to be. Grover grabbed his shoulder just as he took his first step, holding him back.
"Luke, no. She sacrificed herself for you and you can't just run back down there, you'll be killed."
"I have to go, Grover, I can't leave her down there if I can help," he insisted.
Annabeth tugged on his arm, "Look," she said.
Following her finger, Luke looked down the hill where an opening had appeared. Thalia, still fighting, stood in the center of it. She was completely surrounded.
That was how Luke watched his best friend get ripped apart. Minutes later, a tree grew in place of Thalia's body, and that was the last time a pine tree ever protected Luke.
