A/N If you read this story before, you may have noticed that I made drastic changes to this chapter. After much character building, plotting, outlining and thinking I've decided that I should introduce the main characters of this story first, and then the ones we all know and love can play their parts. I'm really sorry if you don't like the changes, but I do. And don't worry, Percy and Annabeth will appear briefly in the next chapter and again in the third (In character this time). I hope that you enjoy this chapter, but if not feel free to mention how I can improve future chapters in your review. I'll try to have the next chapter out at the end of next weekend. I hope you grow to like Melanie and Jason as much as I have!
Chapter One: Rosy Fingered Dawn
"I'm sorry Charlie, it's just not working out." I try and make my voice sweet, my eyes wide as if it hurts me as much as it hurts him to split.
"But Mel, please? What did I do?" Charlie's jaw works furiously like he's chewing a bit of tough gum, his hair pushed out of his eyes with a baseball cap facing backwards.
"It's not you, it's me." I clasp my hands behind my back, pinching the inside of my wrist to encourage tears to come to my eyes.
He sighs, turning away. "Mel, I just don't get you sometimes."
"I'm really sorry Charlie." I apologize again, "I just think we should go our separate ways." Charlie doesn't say anything, so I turn, making my way down the street.
Night fell a few hours ago and the street is dark except from the glow of the street lamps. Hands in pockets, I navigate the familiar New York streets easily, shivering in the darkness. Usually Charlie walks me home after our dates, but tonight I get to walk home alone. I quicken my pace, it's only a couple of blocks home, a path I walk all the time, but darkness gives things a more sinister light. A part of me whispers that if I would only open up my cell phone and call, Dad would be glad to pick me up but I shove the thought away. How hard is it to walk home? It's only a few blocks, and besides, I'm thirteen and today was the final Friday of school before summer break. I should have a social life, or at least the guts to walk home.
Pausing, I note that the street light has gone out in the road ahead, casting the buildings and sidewalks in deep shadow. I'm tempted to detour down the next street over, but shove on anyways. 13 is far too old to be afraid of the dark. I quicken to a jog, hurrying through the darkened street. Ahead an angry shout rings out in a language that I don't understand, but sounds strangely familiar. A growl responds to the shout, breaking into a run, as I round the corner I bite back a screech.
A horse rears in the alley, screaming its fury, over the form of a teenage boy, looking impossibly small in comparison. Unsure of quite what I was seeing, I press myself to the wall, wide eyes taking in the uncertain scene. The horse rears, screaming a challenge and striking out with bronze hooves. Peeling back its lips, it reveals curling fangs and a bloody muzzle. The boy jerks a sword out of his belt with startling smoothness, brandishing it before him. The horse, unperturbed by the sword, kicks out at the boy, who rolls away with surprising quickness. Lunging again, the horse ducks around another parry of the sword to bite at the boy, catching his sleeve between his teeth. Shouting, the boy hacks at the horse's underbelly with his sword, twisting away with a muttered oath.
Blindly gripping something on the ground to my left, I stand, heart pounding in my throat. Reeling back, I step forward, without thinking, throwing the rock I grasp at the horses flank. The animal spins, screaming, to rest its gaze on me. The boy takes advantage of its distraction to lunge in with his sword, passing the blade in behind the horse's foreleg, with a squeal the animal falls to dust, merging with the shadows as if it was never there leaving behind a single curved fang.
I shrink back against the wall, surprise shuddering through me. "What was that?"
The boy doesn't answer, continues staring at me intently with narrowed blue eyes. "What did you see?" He asks, after a moment's pause.
"A killer horse!" My voice sounds more indignant than I meant it to; does he think I'm blind?
He whistles low under his breath, "Wow, what are the odds? Who's your parent? No, I don't suppose you don't know…"
He continues muttering to himself, as if I've suddenly vanished. "Hello? You can't just almost get killed and then start ignoring me! What is going on?"
My shouting has no effect, but finally he turns. "Well, I suppose I have no choice. I'll take you back with me."
Instinctively I jump back a couple of steps reaching into my bag for a weapon, anything. I come out with a nail file. Brilliant. A nail file against a sword. "Take me where?" I take another step away from him, sizing the boy up. He doesn't look big, or near muscular enough to take me down. Brief affairs with baseball, volleyball and cheerleading have given me an athletic frame. Rolling back on my heels I cup the file inside my palm, watching him warily.
He takes in my motions and laughs, sheathing his sword. "Relax newbie, I won't hurt ya."
"Newbie?" For the moment I forget about being offended, this guy is completely insane.
He smiles, it looks like he's trying to look welcoming but he just looks like he's got an ace up his sleeve. "Listen, have you ever heard about the Greek Gods?"
"Yeah, Poseidon and Zeus and stuff." I relax, a little bit. But not enough to put the nail file away, but at the moment he's got the bigger weapon.
"And stuff. Listen, do you have a house or something? I could go for some food."
Great idea, I'll take him home and Dad can call the cops. "Yeah, an apartment with my dad, just a block away."
"Fantastic. Lead the way."
I back up the street, careful not to turn my back to him, I study him looking for signs he might be crazy. Tall, thin with shaggy brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, moving with a quick bounce in his step. He seems normal, except for the sword at his hip. The walk seems longer than it usually does, mostly because the entire time I'm waiting for him to whip out his sword and run me through. Through the front doors of the building, up the stairs and one very awkward elevator ride later, I let myself into the apartment. "Hey Dad, I'm home! Can you, uh, come here for a second?"
"Sure." I can hear Dad setting down his book and coming towards us, backing away from the creepy guy, I back away, setting the nail file down in exchange for a candlestick off of the table in the entry hall.
Dad enters, and pauses when he catches a glimpse of my new friend. "Hello, who's this Mel?"
I immediately jump behind him, "Call the cops, this guy-"
He cuts me off by leaning forward and offering his hand out for Dad to shake. "Jason, son of Hermes."
Dad looks shocked. "Son of who? Come in, I'll make some coffee."
I glance at him with surprise. "Hermes? The guy with the winged sandals?" Why does Dad seem to trust this creep?
"Yeah, well, he prefers Converse these days."
"Winged Converse?" I try to picture the flying shoes in my head while I lead the way to the little table in the kitchen, "What is going on?" I direct my question at Jason and Dad, whoever will answer.
Dad sets a mug of coffee in front of each of us, Dad makes coffee all the time, usually decaf at night. Around our house, it's 'had a bad day at school? here's some coffee.' 'Got fired from work? Here's some coffee!' Jason thanks Dad and takes a swig of the murky brown drink.
Dad settles in, looking serious. I clutch my mug tighter, my palms uncomfortably warm from the mug, but I can't loosen my grip. Something serious is going on here. "Mel, you know the Greek gods-" Dad begins, but I cut him off.
"Yes, Zeus, Poseidon, Hermes. Jason and I have been over this, what about them?"
"They're real." He still looks serious, but I relax my grip on the mug, sit back, and laugh.
"Right. Some big guy wearing a dress is going to come electrocute us all." Both Jason and Dad tense at that comment, and thunder rumbles outside. Which is weird, because there weren't any clouds earlier.
"Yeah um, we typically try not to offend the big guy." Jason warns, taking another swig of coffee.
"We?" I glance between him and Dad, wondering when they'll give up the joke.
"We meaning Demigods." Jason explains.
"Demigods?" I search my memories of history this year, Demigods? What were Demigods? And then it starts to make sense. "Son of Hermes? You think you're a Demigod?" Now I'm sure, this guy needs to be locked up.
"I don't think I'm a demigod, I am a demigod. You are too." Jason glances over at my Dad for backup.
"Melanie, your mom was Eos. Goddess of the dawn." For a minute I'm a little disappointed, Eos? I was hoping it would be someone important and then I remind myself that none of this is real.
"Yeah. Right. The jig is up, Dad where'd you find the crazy guy?"
Dad looks surprised, but Jason just smiles and grabs a pair of shoes out of his bag and slaps them on the table. I lean in for a good luck, and laugh when I see there are two little white wings on each. I start to point out that this proves nothing, when the wings flap. They give another feeble flutter before rising off the table and zooming around the room, bouncing off of walls. I recoil back in my seat, taking a swallow. "F-ff-flying?" I stammer, unable to force anything intelligent out of my mouth.
Dad sits quietly while I watch the shoes, but Jason laughs and leans back on the rear two legs of his chair "Pretty sweet huh? Gift from my Dad."
Dad. He means Hermes. Both Dad and Jason sit quietly while I digest the information. The gods are real, my mom is Eos. I rack my memories for proof, evidence that this might all be true. The shoes, the horse, that water nymph in the river out in San Francisco, the Cyclops I saw on our school field trip to the beach, last summer when all of New York fell asleep for hours on end. I try not to think about that afternoon, I convinced myself it was all just a dream. "Last summer?" I ask, meeting Jason's gaze.
He looks surprised, "You were awake?"
"Well yeah, it scared the hell out of me; I thought it was a dream afterwards."
He smiles, "You believe us?"
I consider this for a moment, and then nod. It's a lot to swallow, but what other choice do I have? "There's more." Jason speaks up after a moment of silence, "There's this place called Camp Half Blood, people like us, demigods can get trained there. It's a place to meet with other demigods and be ourselves. It's totally protected from monsters. I can explain more when we get there."
I meet Dad's gaze over the table. "Will I go home?"
"Well yeah, only a few people are so powerful they have to stay year round, you don't even have to come, but most stay the summer to train and then spend the school year in the mortal world."
"What do you mean they're 'so powerful'?"
"Well, the more powerful your parent, the stronger your scent. The stronger your scent, the more monsters you attract. Some are so powerful they prefer to stay in Camp Half Blood year round, or they're on the outs with their mortal family. You're mom, Eos, if that's who she is, isn't one of the greater gods, so you should be fairly safe outside of camp, once you're trained of course."
I bristle at his comment that my mother isn't very powerful, all of the gods are powerful, "So, I'd spend the whole summer there?" I meet Dad's eyes again over the table. "When do we leave?"
"I was going to head back to camp as soon as possible." Jason says, jumping up to go catch his shoes, which are trying to escape out the window.
So soon? Dad nods in response to my silent question, "I'll be fine, it'll be fun, trust me." It does sound fun, I mean, the Greek Gods? How cool is that?
"Okay. Okay I'll go."
"Go get your stuff!" Jason shouts from the next room, "I'll just catch my shoes!" I hear a thump followed by the sound of shattering glass and decide not to investigate.
Standing, I sprint for my room and paw through my drawers, tossing as much stuff as I can into my backpack. Clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, make up, hair brush, purses, necklaces and belts. I follow that up with a little knife I keep hidden under my mattress because I'm scared of the dark, and the little plug in light shaped like the sun Dad bought me for my last birthday. After a moment's hesitation, I toss in my copy of The Complete Idiots Guide to Ancient Mythology. I've never been able to read it because of my dyslexia, but why not? Zipping up the pack, I exit, making my way back into the living room. Jason has captured his shoes and exchanged them for his old sneakers, looking proud of himself.
"Ready?" He asks, hovering an inch or so off the ground.
I glance at Dad, my breathe catching in my throat. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Be careful baby," Dad catches me in a hug, kissing the top of my head, I squeeze back for just a second, and then let go.
Jason unsheathes his sword and we make our way out into the night as he tells me more about the Greek Gods, talking a lot about Hermes before I begin to press him with questions about my mom.
"So, what's her claim to fame?"
"She's the goddess of dawn, like your dad said. You know how people are always referencing the 'Rosy fingered dawn?' Well, that's a quote from one of Homer's poems when he was writing about Eos. She wakes the sun, banishing the darkness of night before opening the gates of Olympus so that Apollo can ride his chariot across the sky." I think back, all my life I've been afraid of the dark, waking up just before Dawn to watch the sunrise even if it's a weekend or a holiday. That makes sense, so what if she's only a minor god? "She's also known to be quite the hussy," Jason continues.
"Hussy?" In interrupt him, offended.
"Sorry, sorry," He quickly backtracks, "Aphrodite, the goddess of love, caught her with Ares."
"Isn't Aphrodite married?"
"Yeah, but she's the goddess of love, so you can't expect her to be faithful. Anyways, she caught Eos with Ares, the god of war, and cursed Eos. So now your mom goes through male lovers by the hundreds, falling for men who can't return her affections, or falling for them, obtaining her goal and then losing interest." That sounds familiar, but I don't dwell on the thought. "So, flying or taxi?" Jason asks, digging a golden coin out of his pocket.
It takes me a moment to realize the coin isn't American money and swallow nervously. Flying or some mysterious Greek taxicab? Which sounds less life threatening? " Let's fly."
Jason steps forward and wraps his arms around my waist, I twist away, "What are you doing!?"
He shoots me an exasperated look, pointing to his feet, "I only have one pair of shoes, and it's this or dangle you by your ears."
I frown and step towards him again, he clasps me around the waist and kicks his shoes to life, pulling off the ground with a little strain on the shoes, I guess they're only made for one person.
"Next stop, Camp Half-Blood!" He shouts in my ear over the rush of air.