AN: I'm making a disclaimer now, which stands for all chapters. 1) I am not a man. I am therefore not Rick Riordan. I like writing stories about heroines, not heroes.

2) This story is purposely written like FemPercy could have written it…that means that no, the grammar isn't perfect, and yeah, I didn't go back and edit. I am, however, a decent writer for first-drafts and trying to be careful of the changes I make for story continuity. Complaining won't get you anywhere. It's intentional, and I'm fully aware that this won't be my finest piece of work. But it fits the style.

3) This story is meant to be humorous, from a 1st person past tense perspective. You will not understand this story if you haven't read all of the books currently released in Percy Jackson's world. I am not writing out the whole books as an AU. Just snippets, introducing my characterization, my changes to the story and such. Whole books may be missing.

4) I do not take relationship requests for the main characters. Think of something that might work for side characters and you can suggest it, and why it works, but I make no promises for using it. If you inspired me, I will acknowledge that.

Otherwise: enjoy your reading.

-Cyrene Jackson-

Dear Diary,

I always think of myself as someone with a mixed bag of luck.

Lucky: my mom, Sally Jackson, is awesome. She makes blue chocolate chip cookies, works at a candy store and brings me home "free samples" and is the nicest lady a girl could ask for. Our idea of bonding time is baking cookies, throwing darts, and going bowling at the local cheap-o alley.

Not Lucky: My mom hasn't had an easy life. Her parents died in a plane accident when she was 5, her uncle took her in, but then she had to drop out of high school to take care of him because he was dying of cancer. So no diploma, no real prospects…she meets my dad. Who blah-blah-blah sounds like a great guy: only he didn't stick around. I really wish he had, because if he had my mom wouldn't be married to Smelly Gabe.

Extraordinarily unlucky: Smelly Gabe is my stepfather. He drinks too much beer, smokes cigars in the house and gambles on poker so much that I'm surprised we still have the apartment. My mom has to pay all the bills; he uses his paycheck (which I have no idea how he's still collecting) for his own self and not a penny on the needs of the three of us. Quite frankly, I hate the guy and it's all I can do not to punch him.

Lucky: I'm away at boarding school most of the year. That means I don't have to see Smelly Gabe a lot.

And here is where my luck goes from leaning-bad to a whole lot of crazy: my name is Cyrene Jackson (maybe you've heard of me on the news…) and I am a demigod. You might think wow, I bet she's got superpowers and is totally awesome! Or scoff and say yeah right, or you might think that everything comes to me on a silver …or gold, platter. Well….here's the reality: yes, superpowers. Awesome. Silver platter? Ha! As if the Greek gods ever let their kids have an easy life. No, my life comes with monsters who hunt me down, thinking its chow time on pizza day at the school cafeteria. In other words, I smell like a whole lot of yum to them.

I first began to figure out something was strange, that maybe I wasn't normal, when my pre-algebra teacher tried to kill me when I was 12 (okay, my birthday is in August, and it wasn't August yet, but I didn't want to be seen as 11)…and I killed her instead. Now, I'm no stranger to getting in trouble at school (hey, I'm dyslexic and ADHD! Cut me a break! Though…I've been expelled from 7 schools so far…yep, kindergarten through grade 6. So maybe I accidentally fired a cannon at a school bus once, but who leaves a loaded cannon at a public historic monument? Is this a record, 7 schools?) But turning my teacher into dust wasn't normally my style.

And yet, on a field trip to a museum for Latin class (no, I suck at Latin) my pre-algebra teacher was being all pissy and summoned me with the come-hither-look-of-doom that always precedes long detentions, suspensions and expulsions. I was hoping for detention. I kinda liked Yancey Academy—I had a good friend Grover (sure he's a guy, but I'm not much of a girly-girl), and really liked my Latin teacher. Then, suddenly, standing in between all the old Greek steles and drawings…my teacher turned into a bat from hell. Then Mr. Brunner, my Latin threw me a pen that turned into a sword and…SWING! I killed my teacher.

Awesome, right? But suddenly I was standing there holding a pen, thinking I'd gone crazy.

The next few months only got worse. Three old ladies knitting a really big whacked-out sock, which I decided might fit Godzilla. My best friend trying to stalk me all the way home in a panic—yeah, Grover's cool and all, but I ditched him. I did not want to try to introduce him to Smelly Gabe (the pig seriously asked me for money when I got home, and had left smelly boxers, beer cans, muddy footprints, and moldy pizza boxes all over my room. EWWW).

To sum it up: the end of my school year had SUCK written all over it. And I haven't even mentioned old bull-head. Yeah…see Mom and I went on vacation to our favorite beach in Montauk as soon as I got back, taking Smelly Gabe's Camaro. Only I woke up with weird dreams of a horse and eagle trying to kill each other in the surf-and when I opened my eyes a hurricane was blowing in. So much for weather men: that was NOT on their Doppler radar.

Next thing I know my stalker-friend Grover shows up with no pants—rude right? I mean, I'm a girl he's a….not guy, apparently. Satyr. Whatever. He had goat legs and smelled like wet barnyard animal. Not my favorite scent. And he was pretty sure we were being chased and had to get out of there.

Sure enough, I'm getting some explaining done in the car, and then we hear something behind us and I'm thinking, oh crap! Guess this isn't a hallucination after all…no way I dreamed that ugly up. We were being chased by something that probably stood ten foot tall, counting something poky coming up off of the shaggy black torso.

To make a painful story short: KaBOOM. Lightning threw the Camaro off the road (sorry Smelly Gabe, no small scratch. Just a hole in the room and the car exploding a minute or two later…whoops?) Then mom and I are attempting to haul Grover's sorry ass up the hill, him having passing out and drooling about food. Great, the guy's hungry. Maybe that means the Minotaur that was chasing us like we're chocolate and he's a PMSing rabid cheerleader won't think he is a worthy target.

Didn't really matter, Mom yelled at us to separate. I was pretty stupid and did so—next thing I know Mom's yelling "Go," and vanishes in the grip of the Minotaur. My mind numbly realizes she's gone. Dead. And then I go from shocked to pissed off as the beast turns to face Grover, still drooling and groaning. And I did something really dumb.

As the rain pounded down on my skin, I yelled at the beast, drawing its attention toward me. "Hey you big bully! Yeah you, ground beef for brains! Too afraid to pick on somebody who is awake? Ha! You're probably a big momma's boy too—bet you even look like her—you big UGLY."

Yeah, that did it. The bull but all of its weight (baby elephant maybe?) and charged at me, and I'm standing right in front of this tall pine, waving my raincoat and muttering, "Toro, dear god I hope this works." Praying might not have helped. The bull was smarter than to let me dodge to the sides. 2 choices, duck and get kicked or….

Somehow I kicked off the tree, grabbed onto him, and twisted myself around so I was riding the bull's shoulders. Safe? No, next second the thing slammed his head into the tree making me bite right through my lip. The taste of blood filled my mouth, and I was dazed for a moment.

The good luck: bull seemed to think I had disappeared. Not smart enough to realize I was ON it. The bad luck: the bull once again aimed itself for Grover. No way was I letting a second person get killed by this beast that was chasing me. I grabbed a horn as hard as I could, trying to pull its head around. Then, SNAP, I was flying through the air and the Minotaur was blubbering like a cow.

I really caught the bully's attention all right. In my hand was the horn—must not have been as strong as I thought. But as the bull charged me one last time, I gulped, spat out some blood, and hoped it was strong enough for what I was about to do. Otherwise we were all dead.

Here's some awesome luck: it was strong enough. The bull charged right into its own horn and impaled itself, turning to dust. (which got in my mouth, maybe I should downgrade this to luck?)

There I stood on the hilltop, near this pine tree, shaped perfectly like a Christmas tree. Mom was gone (and I was sobbing alright, at this point. Hey, I'm a girl, cut me some slack! My mom just died and a monster straight out of Greek mythology attacked me.)

I don't know how long it took, but soon enough I had dragged Grover down the hill to the farm house, where Mom had told me we were going, where we'd be safe. I was exhausted, crying, with a half dozen nasty scrapes, and already stiffening from being thrown from the Minotaur. The world was going fuzzy, blood dripped into my eye from a gash on my forehead (I vaguely remembered my head hurting when I got thrown), and the last thing I remember was a large shadow, and blonde curls leaning over my face.

"Gods!" a voice proclaimed. A girl. "Is she the one? Is it beginning?"

The large shadow spoke, "Shh, she's still conscious…" As the shadow leaned over me, I was gone.

-Cyrene Jackson-

I woke up to sunshine and a headache. At first I thought it was all a dream. Then I looked around the room, and saw the horn sitting on the bedside table. Tears began to leak out of my eyes, which I quickly brushed away as I heard footsteps nearby and the door creaked. In came Grover, complete with fuzzy legs. I sniffled one last time (for now) and gave Grover a pretty pathetic smile. He sat down on the edge of my bed and held a glass out for me.

I wrapped two hands around the glass, and at his urging took a sip through the straw. I nearly dropped the cup in shock: it tasted just like my mom's blue chocolate chip cookies. My face must have looked bewildered because Grover explained.

"It's nectar. Don't drink too much or…well, it's not good. But I'm told it tastes like something you love."

"It does," I whispered sadly, and slowly nursed the taste. It might be my last taste of the cookies mom and I used to make together.

Even having just recovered, my ADHD didn't let me remain in bed long. Soon enough I was up and about getting the tour and explanation of what had happened and where I was.

Camp Half-Blood, a training ground for demigods, complete with a cabin/temple thing, in which kids slept in the cabin of their parents (assuming their parent had a cabin). Me, I didn't know who my dad was, and awesome as Mom was…well, she died. Not a goddess then. So that meant I was shown to Cabin 11, for Hermes, who took in travelers (read, strays).

The head counselor, who looked about 18 or 19, showed me to the girls half of the cabin, apologized for the lack of beds, and showed how they had rigged the room to have just huge bunks all lined up, where 2 or 3 sleeping bags were placed on a bed, with gaps between. Crazy crowded, huh? Apparently gods don't make great parents…they frequently don't even step up and say "yeah, this is my kid, now keep on going on living your life as if you don't know who I am, because I don't care about you." At least, that's how Luke, the head counselor, put it.

After being shown my cabin, Mr. Brunner (err…Chiron, trainer of heroes and a centaur…not a wheelchair bound man after all) and I bumped into the blonde from the other night.

"Oh, Annabeth, there you are. I wanted to introduce you to Cyrene Jackson. Cyrene this is Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. Annabeth, I've got to go to the master-level archery class. Do you mind finishing up the tour with our new camper, here?"

Annabeth turned grey eyes onto the centaur and nodded. As Chiron clapped me on the shoulder and walked off, her eyes turned back to me, as if inspecting me for dirt. I instantly felt awkward around her. Here was this pretty athletic-looking blonde girl sizing me up. Me, in ripped jeans, and a green T-shirt that looked like I'd rolled in the mud. At least I'd brushed my hair—not that that ever did much good. See, I have black hair that always looked like I've been at the beach, and is all wind-tangled and wavy no matter what I do. I usually just give up after a few strokes of the brush.

I probably looked pretty gross. Ripped jeans, muddy t-shirt, slightly tangled black hair, and green eyes that probably still looked like I'd been crying (if I was unlucky).

"Well come on, let's show you around…let's start with the bathroom and camp store, eh?" I felt a wave of relief. At least this blonde was going to be nice about how I looked. Another cabin I'd walked by, had looked at me as if I were some freak of nature—Aphrodite, I had realized quickly.

We didn't make it to the bathrooms without getting accosted. Or kidnapped. Maybe that's a better word. This huge girl, who looked like she was made of muscle and had a name about as prissy as mine—Clarisse, decided that I needed orientation by swirly.

Now, I've been bullied before. The girl who fails ALL of her classes, eats blue food, and is always in trouble is an easy target. That whole thing your parents say, about ignoring it? Yeah, that might work with some bullies, I've learned over the years. But girls are vicious. I mean seriously, they scratch, they make you feel like a worm with words—those bullies you ignore, they get bored, and laughter is their weapon. Clarisse—she's more of the type of bully you fight, and show her you can stand on your own feet-or you're easy pickings. Forever.

So I fought. I punched and kicked as Annabeth stood back and watched me get dragged into the bathroom by Clarisse and two other Ares girls. Some friend, right? I was kinda pissed. Kinda pissed went to wave roaring in my head angry (which ALWAYS got me in trouble at school) when I saw the toilet they were trying to force MY head into.

I was NOT disappointed, bewildered sure, but disappointed no, when the toilets and showers went haywire and spewed all the other girls (including Annabeth, wink, oops, wink) with water. I was perfectly dry, but they were pissed.

I guess Annabeth wasn't too angry, because she said I was on her team for capture the flag that Friday. But she sure wasn't happy with me either…in the next week or two I couldn't tell if we were friends or not. Sure she tutored me at Greek, and smiled encouragingly when I disarmed Luke in sword practice (how I did that, I've no idea) but she also gave me a crappy role in capture the flag and left me to the dogs. Literally.

There I was, minding my own business, manning border duty between the enemy team and my own, when I see Clarisse and three of her team coming across to me. Somehow, two of them had gotten behind me—must have come through away from my position. I was surrounded.

"Well, well, if it isn't the freak. I've got a bone to pick with you," Clarisse grinned. I gulped. And said something really stupid.

"Bone? Can't imagine you'd find one on yourself, all that fat…" I didn't get any farther before Clarisse came at me with her spear, the goons backing me in with no room to maneuver. I managed to block her a couple times, then dodge, wincing every time I blocked.

Her spear was freaking electric! Even blocking sent a little numbness up into my hands. I couldn't imagine being hit with it!

Then there was a shout, and my attention got pulled away (stupid ADHD) and I saw someone decked out in my team's colors running away, with a whole horde of people chasing him. Clarisse growled, but we both knew it was too late. The guy was almost at the finish line, and nobody was near enough to get him. An arrow, perhaps, but…the game was just about over.

I must have paid too much attention to the other guy for too long, because movement near me caught my attention just long enough for me to turn in time to groan internally. Then… ZAP! Clarisse sliced my arm with her spear. The world was pain for a moment, and I fell to my butt, dazed, confused and with a nasty burn and gash on my arm, the sword I was using clattering to the ground at my feet.

I guess I was pretty out of it, because next thing I know, Annabeth is taking off a hat next to me. She hadn't been there a moment before. I groaned. "Were you here the whole time or did I just now notice you?" I grumbled. When she hesitated, I knew it: She'd watched me get speared by Clarisse. Some friend. She'd set me up.

"You handled yourself well," she said instead of lying—we both knew the truth. "I'm surprised you held your own against Clarisse. She's the best in Ares cabin. I would have jumped in if you were in trouble." Annabeth offered a hand to me, to help me up, as Chiron announced the winners a few feet away. Three goons and Clarisse didn't count as 'in trouble'?

I'm still on my butt, like a sitting duck. Squawk, squawk. When suddenly the camp who had been jubilant moment before goes silent. I hear growling, and the silence is broken.

"Hellhound! Di immortals! Get my bow!" orders Chiron, yelling.

I look up and my heart freezes. This huge black dog is snarling, fangs absolutely dripping: and it's looking right at me. Oh yay, I must be dessert.

Annabeth shoved me back, "Run Cyrene!" I attempted to scramble to my feet, but my whole body felt like it was on fire and numb. It refused to be obey, and instead I stumbled back a few feet, and was just barely on my feet when the beast sprang right over Annabeth's head (hey look, maybe she does like me…she at least attempted to stop it) and crashed into me, pushing me into the creek. I felt claws digging through my armor, and teeth sink into my shoulder.

With a boost of strength born from pain and fear, I pushed my left hand out and tried to shove the beast off; even as I felt my blood flowing and pain making my vision go white. I felt a thud, and heard the sounds of arrows flying. Then the beast turned into dust, settling all over me.

The pain was fading. Maybe I was dying. Mom, I'm coming. Sorry I let you down…I know you wanted me to live… My vision began to come back.

Suddenly, Annabeth made me realize that I wasn't dying. I was healing. She gasped, "Cyrene! Look at your wounds…" As I looked at my body, I realized that as the water from the creek flowed over me, my wounds were closing, the skin knitting together. After a few moments there was only a thin scar where the hellhound had bitten through my armor. The gashes healed completely.

Chiron's voice sounded across the murmuring of the other campers. "It is determined. Hail, Cyrene, daughter of Poseidon the Sea God. Stormbringer. Earthshaker. Father of Horses."

Great, I finally find out who my Dad is…and all the campers are scowling, looking nervous, and bowing to me. I guess I'm camp royalty. Only…camp royalty that just had a HELLHOUND summoned to kill me, right through the protective borders of camp.

Needless to say: being royalty made me instantly unpopular. Unless popularity was counted by the number of gods who want you dead. If it's counted that way: I'm the most popular demigod in the world. Yippee!

-Cyrene Jackson-

So, there I was on a quest to clear my name. My dear Uncle Zeus, my father's youngest brother and KING god, believes that I stole his Master Bolt last winter solstice. Can I just say, no way? I didn't even know I was a demigod then, let alone that Mt. Olympus was on top of the Empire State Building! How the heck could I have stolen it? Regardless, I had 10 days to return it to him…or war will result, with little old me getting blamed for it (and probably turned into an immortal so I can be tortured for all eternity. Yahoo!). Maybe I should have let Mr. D turn me into a dolphin…

Worse? Chiron is pretty sure that another uncle of mine, Hades, is really the one who stole it. So basically here's the quest: travel from Long Island, New York to L.A. California over ground (because flying will yield one shishkabobed Cyrene, charbroiled to order), kill or avoid all monsters met on the way, while they're being sent after me like bloodhounds with a serious case of rabies. All of this with just me, Grover, and Annabeth (couldn't think who else to go, she really wanted to, and hey, at least she tried to help with the Hellhound) on the case. Get the goods from the Underworld, and make it back to Long Island. In 10 days. I am so royally screwed. Royal, funny…Dear gods, could this please be a mistake? Can I be some minor god's spawn? Glad to know who my pops is and all but really, UNCLAIM ME!

So far the tally?

1 destroyed bus (some nasty publicity on my part there) because all 3 of the Furies, you know Hades' person torture squad, tried to kill me. 2 of 3 Furies killed.

1 meal at Medusa's garden gnome emporium. Seriously, who buys garden gnomes that are life-size statues and none of them look happy (Hades apparently)? That should have been my first clue…anyways, success. 1 medusa head, snakes, and dripping blood all sent special order to Olympus. Ha!

3 tickets west for having returned some dumb poodle. Never did like those dogs. Give me a big slobbery dog that likes swimming any day. But poodles have always been too prissy for me. This one was nice enough, I guess. But I'm not getting one anytime soon.

Ah…then the St. Louis Arch. I seriously owe Annabeth an apology for that. So apparently my new friend (yeah, we figured things out. She's not as girly as she seems, and is pretty nice when she's not acting all holier-than-thou) loves architecture, and the Arch is a favorite of hers. I busted it. Echidna, mother of monsters…and name inspiration for an Australian animal (which she doesn't appreciate, by the way, in case you ever meet her), and her son the Chimaera attacked me…so…I did a dive that seriously should have made a Guinness World Record through the glass and into the river. Yeah, didn't kill those monsters—ran, yes, killed: no.

So, if I didn't like Clarisse (and I totally blame her for me being a sitting duck with the Hellhound instance) before…well, I really hate her dad. Ares is a creepy pervert of a war god. All he wants is bloodshed. He threatened my life, and then indicated I might be a good spoil of war. Can we say: I'd kill myself first! The Underworld can't be as bad as being that lug's mistress. His motorcycle seat is made out of human skin! Grover and Annabeth were both pretty pissed at him too: but you can't really say, "No thanks Lord Ares, sir. I don't want to take a quest, the one I'm on is super important and I can't be late on it or King Zeus will kill me. I hope you understand. Please get someone else to fetch your shield…" Yeah, that's a fast way to get me killed. Ares: 1. Cyrene: I got out alive, Annabeth freaked with metal spiders, and Grover was a big help with the flying shoes courtesy of Luke.

Ares' idea of a thank-you? Yeah, we got some lame-ass ride west in the back of a truck that was carrying a zebra, an antelope and a lion.

Oh, and I totally discovered another superpower to add to my list: water manipulation and healing, and the ability to talk to horses (and their close relatives.) I just couldn't leave that zebra. This kinda trashed our ride west in Sin City-one state to go. (Why is this city seriously not the entrance to the Underworld? Sin City? Anyone?) We're not making bad time, I guess.

Growing up in New York, Vegas was like a whole new world for me. Annabeth looked a bit bewildered too, as she hadn't left Camp since she got there when she was 7. Grover took the lead. That was a mistake. We're wandering around looking at hotels and knowing we can't afford them. Grover…well, I guess he's a satyr, so it's kind of typical: but he loves the ladies.

It was actually kind of funny to watch Annabeth growl at Grover. "Just because we let you lead goat-boy, does not mean we will stay that near to prostitute's over night!" Annabeth dragged Grover away from the hotels near the cheaper side of town.

The problem was, we were tired, there's no good place to sleep in a place like Vegas as kipping out in a park as pre-teens? Yeah that gets you noticed. And my face was already in the news…I'm a wanted criminal! Did you hear about that? Apparently, I'm responsible for Mom going missing, blowing up a bus, and a terrorist incident at the St. Louis Arch, and am working with Ares. Ha! We certainly didn't have the money for a fancy place on the strip.

Grover gave in on looking near the red-light zone, and led us down a back alley. "Maybe there will be someplace off the main street," he said hopefully.

I growled. "Ugh, I hope to the gods there is." It had been a long couple of days, and I hadn't been sleeping well. Demigod dreams suck. You wake up feeling like you've just been in a battle—at least if your dad and the king god are acting like kindergartners fighting over a toy…with superpowers. Yeah….my body wanted a bed.

Suddenly we rounded a corner, and there in front of us was a really nice hotel. It didn't fit into the surroundings much, and a teenager was standing outside. He smiled and waved us over. Annabeth and I caught each other's eyes, warily. Nice things always meant trap.

But Grover, our, well, not-human monster-detector, indicated it smelled okay. No monsters. And walked forward.

"You kids look like you need a break. Why don't you come on in and cool off, take a rest? We've got some open rooms, and can set you up for a nap and a break."

Annabeth bit her lip. "I'm not sure we have the money for a place like this," she admitted to the doorman. He waved the concern off. "The owner is real friendly about that: kids get taken care of around here. It's a rough city at night, and if you're lost you shouldn't have to be alone."

I was still apprehensive, and I knew Annabeth was too. But Grover was sold. Before we could stop him he was in the door, and munching on a lotus cookie he was offered.

"Cyrene! Annabeth! You've got to try this, it's delicious!" Hesitantly, I took a bite. Hey, I wasn't in the Underworld, it's not like a bite would trap me there forever!

-Cyrene Jackson—

The next morning, I woke up and stretched in a lovely king waterbed. I dressed in jeans and a dark green t-shirt. This hotel was paradise, and I just had to swim in the pool and play some more video games. We'd had a rough couple days, and were only one state away from our destination, with more than half of our time left. I figured we could relax for a bit, and maybe catch an overnight greyhound to LA later tonight.

It wasn't until I was playing some game about jungle adventures and killing monstrous spiders (Annabeth wouldn't come near that one) that I realized the guy playing my partner on the game was totally weird. The boss spider came out, and he yelled out the weirdest thing, "Groovy! Man that spider could chow down on our machine! These games just get better and better every day!"

Groovy? Hadn't that gone out decades ago? And this game had been out for a while… "Dude, how long have you been here?" Maybe he was a local and came back every now and then…

"Oh about two weeks. I checked in on vacation. Die, die, die!"

I blinked, and dropped my controller. Two weeks, and this game had been added? I didn't buy it, plus he was wearing bell bottoms and a paisley shirt. I'm not exactly your fashion queen, and Aphrodite would have disowned me if I were her kid (thank the gods I'm not…) but I knew that there was no way this teenager had only been here two weeks.

"What year is it," I asked the guy. I didn't like the answer so I got the heck out of there and looked for Grover and Annabeth. This place was a subtle trap, sure, but it was still a trap with a capital T. I just wondered how long we'd been here….if I had signed my death warrant and started a war by entering that stupid hotel.

I was pretty pissed, so when I couldn't find Annabeth and Grover I decided there was one way to make them leave the hotel like I wanted to. And…it didn't bother my feelings at all to blow up this dumb hotel. I'd already gotten in enough trouble travelling west…why not do something illegal intentionally?

So yeah, I started an electrical fire. It might have been a trap, but it still used modern technology. It was pretty easy to start the whole thing. Water powers? Check. Power socket? Check. A couple power sockets more to overload the system? Check. Starting a trash can fire in a ladies room as well, for smoke and bonus points? Check.

Yeah, I set a hotel on fire. Turns out traps burn pretty well, and the lotus cookies don't work so well against mass hysteria. The entire hotel population poured out of the hotel, screaming about smoke and fire. I wondered what the authorities would make it, but, that didn't matter, there were Annabeth and Grover looking around wildly.

I waved my smoke covered arms, caught up to them, and glared.

Grover looked me up and down. Annabeth looked at me appraisingly. "Why did you start the fire?"

"Might have had something to do with the fact that I was playing a video game with a hippie who time traveled…"

Grover's eyes were widening and he bleated worryingly. "oh no, oh no, oh no! Not again! I ruined it again. What's the date, what's the date!"

Annabeth looked around and found a newspaper stand.

My idea of the next morning? Yeah, it was 5 days later. We had 2 days left to complete our quest.

-Cyrene Jackson-

I bet you're surprised the quest ended well. I sure as heck am. Really, I guess I have my dad to thank. He had some underling give me three pearls, which got us away from Hades. Who, can you believe, rescued my Mom from the Minotaur as bait for me? So yeah, she's alive, but still stuck with my Uncle. I guess I kinda like him better than Zeus.

I mean sure, he sent monsters after me to kill me. He ordered his skeleton minions armed with AK47s to destroy me, he is blaming me for stealing the Master Bolt AND his Helm of Darkness…but he saved Mom. I'll give him some props for that. Message clear: you'll like the reward; you won't like it if you cross me. All Zeus was offering me for returning his bolt that I hadn't even stolen…was NOT killing me. No thanks, just: okay, you can live until I get pissed off next time.

Turns out Ares had given me the Master Bolt. And we got the Helm of Darkness back for Hades (that was a quick side-quest…). It's weird, but I was talking with Annabeth, and we agree: something is off with this whole thing. Grover whimpered when we talked about that. But somehow, I'm a hero to Hades (grudgingly) and the mortals have decided that I had been kidnapped and blackmailed, and I'm totally awesome for escaping and got us a free plane ride back to the big Apple. (Good thing nobody knew I set the Lotus Hotel fire…that might not have gone down so well).

So here's the summary, now that I'm back at Camp Half-Blood for the summer: Hades returned my mom, alive. Zeus didn't apologize but he called off the war. Ares is in big trouble for trying to start a war, and Aphrodite is ticked off at him for his comments about me. Athena glared at Annabeth and me for having made friends. (Apparently she doesn't approve of me for being, as Annabeth says, a Seaweed Brain. But, hey, I'll take it, it's better than Destructor, as she teased she should call me, after the Lotus Hotel.) Oh, and I got to meet Dad. Yeah, Mom's right, he's pretty cool. He's pretty laid back, but I can tell he has a temper. He gave me a hug…I tried to pretend I was too old for that from my dad but…what the heck, it's not like he's someone I can see often.

Turns out there is this big agreement: Zeus, Dad, and Uncle Hades promised after World War Two not to have any more demigod kids. Something about us being too powerful and starting too many wars. But even beyond that, all of the gods are forbidden from spending too much time with their mortal children. As one of the Big Three, Dad can't really show too much favoritism. He has an example to set…yeah, that's the excuse anyways. I figure time just doesn't seem as important for gods who are thousands of years old. It's hard for them to keep up with mortal life, I bet.

Oh, and Smelly Gabe? Just in case you're wondering. Yeah…Mom told him to get out. The Medusa head came in handy in case he refused. He refused. So now, Smelly Gabe is officially Stony Gabe. The Mist finally came in useful: It covered up his disappearance. Yay! And he's not, technically, dead…

So there you have it. My first summer at demigod camp. And I still have a couple weeks left until my 12th birthday, August 18. I hate being one of the youngest in my grade…Maybe next year will be better. Until next time…Tchau!

-Cyrene Jackson—

Okay, so much for that being my story of the summer. Here I thought I was done. Quest completed, Mom doing well. Somehow became best friends with Annabeth. Am not longer a wanted woman.

And then…the second to last line of the prophecy by the Oracle, the one about being betrayed? Oh I didn't tell you the exact prophecy that led to this quest did I? Okay, so basically, it said go west, face the "god who turned," kick some butt and recover the stolen items, get betrayed, and fail to save what matters most. So...god who turned, ended up being Ares, I think. Even in retrospect interpreting prophecy isn't all that easy. Items? Check. Fail to save Mom? Yeah, I did—but Hades returned her anyways. Nice as far as gods go. (Maybe I'll have to send him a Christmas card…not Zeus though. He is on the Uncle-non-grata list.) Betrayal? Whoops, turns out the prophecy wasn't over just yet.

So, remember Luke? Cabin counselor for Hermes, got me set up with a bed when I first arrived? Is a good friend of Annabeth's, and Grover escorted him to camp on his first disastrous mission (that ended up with Zeus' daughter the pine tree that I got the Minotaur to hit)? Yeah, him.

He tried to kill me. With a scorpion, the two-faced liar.

Apparently, I'm powerful enough as a demigod to be on the "recruit to the dark side" list. He wanted me to join him to support Kronos in destroying the gods. Yeah, Kronos, as in the cannibalistic Titan who ate his own kids! Like Hades I'm helping him. I bet he eats his helpers too!

Needless to say, my answer pissed Luke off. So he tried to kill me. Boy was that fun explaining to Annabeth, exactly how I ended up poisoned and just barely having my life saved before the poison killed me.

So yeah: lucky that I survived, and know what we're facing. Luke is working with Kronos.

I guess that means I failed to prevent a war, eh? Well, I prevented one…but the bigger one? Yeah, that's still coming.

I'm completely scratching that I hope next summer will be better. No point hoping. I need to pray. If I'm extremely lucky the next few weeks of summer before I start 7th grade will be fairly tame: climbing rock walls with lava, sword fighting, capture the flag against the Ares cabin who has sworn that I am their enemy for showing up their dad, and lessons with Annabeth in ancient Greek. At least she was nice and decided we could go for a swim after each lesson…

And now…for vacation. Right?

-Cyrene Jackson-