Chapter One – Ceridwen, daughter of Hecate
From a young age, I knew I was different.
I could make things happen as if by magic, which had landed me in trouble many times. The first time I did something magical I was six years old, and camping with my dad in the winter.
I woke early in the morning, freezing cold, and my dad awoke later to find me warm and happy, conjuring purple flames from my fingertips. I guess that was the day he knew my mother had not been lying when she told him she was a goddess. My dad didn't tell me that I was a daughter of Hecate – I didn't find that out till I went to Camp Half-Blood – but from that day on he told me to hide my abilities. Even at the age of six I knew not to tell people I had 'magic powers', otherwise I'd end up in therapy!
By the time I was twelve I had been kicked out of so many schools, my dad had no option but to send me to a school for 'behaviourally challenged' children. To be honest, the last regular school I was at expelled me unfairly – that guy's looks were much improved after I'd finished with him. The teachers thought I had somehow superglued a Halloween mask to his face, and I wasn't going to tell them what I'd really done (he'd annoyed me, sparks flew, and the next thing I knew he looked like a gargoyle…) don't worry, the effect wore off after a couple of days.
It truly wasn't my fault. When I was angry, excited or in need of something, the powers I'd inherited from Hecate kicked in. Magic was just a reflex to me. When I was cold, my fingers sparked and I could send flames into the air to warm myself. If anyone hurt me (people soon learned not to) I would see red, and bad things would happen to them. If I got excited, my whole body would start to glow; once, I even levitated a couple of inches off the ground. Oh, and I'm a chemistry geek – I guess it's pretty similar to brewing magical potions.
Despite my special abilities, I'd been diagnosed with ADHD and didn't do very well at school. However, I didn't have as much difficulty with writing as other demigods: if I stared intently at my notepad, the words would write themselves. (I was lucky enough not to get caught doing this, thank the gods!)
I was taken to Camp Half-Blood when I was fourteen years old; I was told that children of the minor gods were more difficult to find, and the law for all gods to claim their children had only just been made.
I'd spent two years at Rosehip Academy for Young Ladies, a boarding school describing itself as 'an establishment turning behaviourally challenged girls into polite, happy, young ladies'. As well as the core subjects, the classes included Fine Cuisine (cooking fancy meals which I always burnt), Garments & Embroidery (sewing 'ladylike' clothes and embroidering girly flower patterns onto them), Handwriting (fairly self-explanatory) and several other classes which bored me relentlessly.
There were also two optional classes, Flower Arranging and Good Manners – needless to say, neither had many pupils. In many ways it was a relief when I found out I was a demigod, although the monsters put a damper on the occasion.
That day that I was taken to Camp Half-Blood was a Monday; the first day back after two days of freedom. During the second lesson of the day, Fine Cuisine, I was watching my pot of broth bubble on the stove. The pot began to bubble over and, without thinking, I shot a glance at the heat dial and the stove turned itself off. Unfortunately, Mrs Alecson saw what I did.
Mrs Alecson was the teacher of Fine Cuisine, and she hated me. She praised the other girls no matter how bad their cooking was, but my food was always "Too lumpy", "Tasteless" and often "Ceridwen, how can you even call this food?" She always scraped her grey hair into a bun and wore round little spectacles, pastel-coloured dresses and beige tights. But now, she looked completely different.
When I saw her new appearance I drew my pale-pink cardigan around me, suddenly freezing cold despite the heat from the ovens. Where there had once been thinning grey hair, Mrs Alecson was now bald. Her eyes glowed menacingly behind her spectacles. Leathery wings sprouted from her back. I didn't know the exact name for what she was, but I knew that I was looking at a monster. Strangest of all, none of the other girls seemed to see the transformation.
"Class, due to your good work today I will allow you to have recess early. Have a lovely day, my darlings!" The monster's voice was falsely sweet and still sounded like that of an old woman. "Oh, but I need to talk to you for a moment, Ceridwen." She snarled my name, and I don't think I had ever been more scared in my whole life before that day. Sweating with nerves, I took off my cardigan and made the school badge – a delicate red rose – change colour.
What did it matter if she saw? She already knew what I could do, and by the looks of things she was probably going to kill me. As soon as my classmates had left and were out of earshot, she dropped the sweet-old-lady voice completely as she spoke to me.
"I know what you are, little witch-child." Mrs Alecson's voice was now deep and raspy. "But surely that blasted Chiron won't notice if I kill the child of a minor goddess. Prepare to die, demigod scum!"
Chiron? Minor goddess? Demigod? I had no idea what she was talking about but I knew one thing: I was in great danger. I'd never believed in any God but at that moment I thought – If these myths and ancient gods that Dad tells stories about are real, I would really appreciate some divine help right now. Well, I guess my mother did answer me.
The 'divine help' came in the form of Marcus Oakes, the teenage groundskeeper. (Despite being young and walking with a slight limp, he was very good at tending the gardens.) Just as Mrs Alecson finished her sentence, Marcus hurled himself through the window with a strange goatlike bleat, scattering glass across the classroom. He brandished a gleaming bronze sword with strange inscriptions.
"Get away from her, Alecto!" Much to my surprise, Marcus shook his legs and his feet appeared to fall off, revealing cloven hooves. "Ceridwen, get behind me. Stupid Furies, ruining my day when I could be nibbling – I mean mowing the lawn…"
I shuffled behind Marcus and watched with horror as he skewered Mrs Alecson with his sword. After uttering her final words ("Oh well, back to Hades I go") she crumbled into a pile of dust.
"You… you… you killed Mrs Alecson! You've got a sword! You're a goat!" I exclaimed.
"I'm a satyr, not a goat!" Marcus seemed highly offended. "Anyway, that wasn't a human. That was Alecto – a Fury, a Kindly One, whatever you want to call it."
"Ok, I am SERIOUSLY confused right now. Why did she say I was the child of a goddess? Why are there even such things as monsters?"
"Don't worry, it's natural to be confused; I'll explain everything on the way to camp. As for the goddess thing… you got any special abilities? Can you do things you can't explain?"
With much concentration, I managed to produce the purple flames from my fingers. Then I demonstrated my little colour-changing trick with the school badge.
"Let's get you to camp before any other monsters find you. This is a lot to take in, I know. But you, Ceridwen, are a daughter of Hecate – the Greek goddess of magic."