Chapter One – Warm below the storm

My name is Henry Clarke. I'm thirteen. And I'm a half-blood.

That last sentence was supposed to impress/scare you. But, for some people, this means nothing. Most of them don't even know what I'm talking about. They are totally unaware about this expression and its meaning. All I can say is: I'd like to be you.

Well, many people know the expression "half-blood" as its synonym, "demigod". It means "half-human, half-god". Yep.

Imagine finding out your dad or mom is a god or goddess from Olympus, from Greek mythology, those you learn about in History classes. Apparently, they're myths, right?

Unfortunately, they aren't. They're too real, actually. But you probably don't know that. Either you don't have any connection with the gods and are as normal as it's possible to be, or the monsters haven't found you yet. Hope for the first option, believe me.

When you are a half-blood, you have a really busy life. If you aren't in a quest, or risking your life, or being attacked by monsters, or running out of time, or having nightmares, or training all your body can handle – (consider all the options at the same time as well) –, you are facing a new threat to the world. Meaning: no rests. It's too much for a kid to deal with.

Of course I'm the newbie at Camp Half-Blood, where all demigods go for training. I came here a month ago. It seems little time, but I'm sure not a single mortal would bear the kind of life everyone has at camp.

The most difficult part is when a demigod discovers their real identity. I'm a lucky one, because now there's a law in which your Olympian parent has to claim their child when the demigod is thirteen. Previous half-bloods didn't have this chance. Some of them have never been claimed.

Basically, this is how it works: you become friends with a satyr disguised as a kid and when your Olympian parent claims you, this satyr and your mortal parent bring you to camp. You fight with some monsters on your way there and then you begin your training. The end.

Yeah, I think I should tell you something about my parents.

My mom is the mortal, all right. Her name is Carolyn Clarke and she's a flight attendant. Maybe that's why she caught my dad's attention, I don't know. I've spent more of my life in airports and planes than at home, and I didn't go to school like the other kids, but I quite enjoyed it. I liked to be in planes, to get to know different places, to be friends with the flying crew, to have special treatment just because I was her son… It was awesome.

I love my mom. She's the best. She'd always had to deal with the monsters attacking me, but she never gave up on me. She protected me at all costs. Even though she had to raise me on my own, she never complained, not once. I admire her courage.

Oh, now that I've told you about my mom, I think you'd like to know who my dad is. Well, you already know he's the godly part of the family, right? All right, here it goes…

My father is Zeus.

Okay, enough with the drama. It's not a big deal. Yeah, I'm the son of the mighty Zeus, king of the gods, Lord of the Sky. Everybody thinks that's an amazing thing. The thing is: there's nothing special. There are only disadvantages, if you compare with other demigods. You'll see later.

But I think I've already given you a fair introduction. Let's get going to the story.

/

It was the day I had completed one month of training at Camp Half-Blood. I was already used to my cabin, the healthy meals outdoors, the night sing-alongs at the amphitheater, the pegasi rides, the rough training (among others, the climbing wall – which by the way shook, dropped boulders and sprayed lava – and the arena – where I practiced sword-fighting), the Capture the Flag and the Ancient Greek lessons.

After a long day of training, I was watching the sunset by the shore of the lake with my satyr and best friend, Kyle Palmer.

Kyle was a funny person. Dark skin, curly hair, quite clumsy. I owed him a lot. If it wasn't for Kyle, I wouldn't be alive. He was my only friend. And apart from the fact that now I knew he had goat legs, nothing had changed between us.

"Happy one-month anniversary," he told me, as he bit an empty juice can.

Oh, yeah, satyrs did that. It's the only thing I'm not used to yet. At least I didn't need to go to the trash can. The rules about the environment at camp were very strict.

"Yeah, thanks," I said. "Don't know if it's a good or bad thing."

"Come on! You're the son of Zeus! You marked history, man."

"Stop it, OK?" I told him. "It's not like I'm awesome for that."

"Why is that?"

I breathed loudly and listed all the reasons to him: "I live alone in my cabin, the others are afraid to stay close to me and everyone stares at me because I'm the son of Zeus. Anything else?"

Kyle sighed. "You're not alone in this, as you already know. You should talk to them, to be nice once in your lifetime."

I knew what he was talking about. Them, as Kyle referred, were the only people that really knew what I was going through.

Zeus had two brothers, Poseidon and Hades. Together, they were the Big Three, the most important Olympian gods. The kids of these three were more powerful than the other half-bloods. Monsters could easily sense them. These kids offered danger to everyone around them and even to themselves, only by existing.

At that very moment, Rebecca Mills was walking around there. Her wavy chocolate hair was tied in a pony tail, and her green eyes were shining with the sunlight. She was carrying a sword, obviously for some sword-fighting at the arena. Rebecca was the daughter of Poseidon.

She smiled at us. Kyle smiled back, but I stood still. Not that I was impolite, only shy. I had difficulty to relate to people.

I kept observing Rebecca until she finally got out from my point of view.

"Sure I am nice," I said, when I recovered my voice. "I just don't want to be like, 'Hey, I'm a child of one of the Big Three too! Wanna talk about it?' "

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Think about that for a moment. What if they find cool your initiative? They're going through the same thing as you. In fact, they've been facing it much longer than you have. They like to make friends as everyone else."

I looked beyond the lake to avoid answering. Eric Butler was making cracks on the earth again on the other edge. He was the son of Hades. He had short black hair and dark eyes. Eric tended to show an individualistic behavior, which was completely normal based on his father.

"But you have to agree with me," I said, "the two of them are really intimidating."

"Intimidating," Kyle repeated. "Becky and Eric. You must be joking, Henry. They are the nicest people in this whole camp."

"I'm not saying they are not nice. But see for yourself. Becky may seem harmless, but in the battlefield she's scary. The girl is a dangerous warrior. And there's Eric. He stays in his cabin all day long. We barely see him outside, except when he is making cracks on the earth, making Mr. D. mad."

Kyle took a while to answer. "If you knew the meaning behind all this, you'd understand."

"Oh, come on! Why don't you tell me? If I can't expect the truth even from my best friend, what am I gonna do?"

"Stop being so dramatic," said Kyle. "If you're so curious about their histories, why don't you ask them?"

At last I gave up on him. Both Kyle and I weren't in our best moods that day. I decided to stop insisting.

Becky, Eric and I were famous at camp. Many people would do anything to be us. There were such great advantages! You would have a cabin for yourself, the opportunity to choose your entire daily schedule, to choose the best bed to sleep on and, at once, have peace. But what they didn't know is that we would do anything to be them. We would have company, friends and roommates. We wouldn't be always worried with the possibility of a monster be waiting to get us when we step outside camp… It was not fun like they thought. Only a kid from the Big Three knew how it was like.

Although I never related to Eric and Becky, I knew our destinies were enlaced somehow. I felt that. We were the most powerful campers in history. And by having the three of us at the same place, all that power concentrated, everyone was in danger. Such an awful feeling, like you were the one to blame.

"When you wake up from death," said Kyle, "let me know, so we can go to dinner."

I hadn't heard the traditional horn blow indicating dinner time. I followed him to the mess hall pavilion. On our way there, we passed near lines of campers, lead by their counselors.

At camp there were a total of twenty cabins. There had been twelve since recently, only for children from the main gods. Then they added new cabins for Hades and the minor gods.

I sat down at table one by myself. This was the worst part on being a kid from the Big Three, even worse than being in constant danger sometimes. I didn't have any siblings, nor at my mortal house. I hated to be alone and to feel lonely.

I took a peek at the other tables. Numbers two and eight were empty, as they were supposed to, which belonged to Hera and Artemis. The two goddesses were maiden forever, thus no demigod children.

The only others who didn't have any mates at their tables were Becky and Eric, from numbers three and thirteen. We couldn't sit together, camp rules. The two of them didn't seem very happy.

Kyle was sitting at table twelve with the satyrs and Dionysus's (Mr. D.'s) kids. I wanted to be beside him.

The nymphs brought trays of food: fruits, bread with cheese and grilled meat. This was a typical dinner at Camp Half-Blood.

"Pepsi Twist," I said to my empty glass.

Immediately, the glass got filled up with soda. This kind of thing was very practical when you were thirsty, you know.

I rose up with the others, leading our plates to the fire at the centre of the pavilion.

When it was my turn, I dumped a piece of meat to the flames and said, "Zeus."

This was kind of an offering to your Olympian parent. Silly, I know, but apparently the gods liked the smell of it. I thought it was extremely bizarre. But I couldn't say that aloud. Gods were quite temperamental. Don't mess with them, this is my advice.

After the end of the dinner, we walked to the Amphitheater. Once there, as always, the Apollo cabin led the sing-alongs around the fire. I loved it. That was the only part of the day that I didn't think about bad things and actually felt home.

The horn blew again, later at night, and lines were formed to go back to the cabins. That was my least favorite part: to go back to the loneliness of cabin number one in the end of the day.

/

Cabin one was quite interesting. And by interesting, I don't mean a nice place to live in.

The ceiling was made to reassemble a cloudy sky. Thunder roared in the room. Once in a while, there was a flash, and I knew it was lightning.

That was already enough to have different cabin. But I didn't mention there was no furniture at all. The beds were, in truth, alcoves carved on the walls. In the center of the cabin was a twelve-foot-tall statue of Zeus.

I clearly had not taken his side of the family. We weren't alike at all. Zeus stood in his classic Greek robes, a shield at his side and a lightning bolt ready to be thrown. He had black hair, a funny beard and an intimidating expression. The only thing we had in common were the blue eyes. The rest – my blond hair and face features – were all thanks to my mom.

The cabin looked more like a temple to Zeus than anything else. It was quite hard to have a good night of sleep there. Not while there was a storm inside the room twenty-four/seven and Zeus looking at me with that lightning bolt in his hand.

I threw myself on my alcove and hoped I would have quite sleep for a change, without nightmares.

The truth is I preferred the nightmares to what really happened that night.

I heard screams from afar, but I thought I was dreaming. I pulled the blankets over my head and stood there. But I was already awake. There was no chance on going back to sleep. I muttered as I sat down, the blankets falling on the floor. The clock beside my bed marked 3 a.m., which made me angrier than I already was.

So I heard the screams again. They were desperate screams. I could almost feel the panic.

I jumped out of the alcove, knocking my blankets to the floor. I couldn't go back to sleep. I felt terror as I realized what was happening.

The camp was being attacked.

I grabbed my sword and opened the door to face the unknown.