Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Percy Jackson, nor do I own any rights to any properties of White Wolf, which occasionally turns up in this story. This goes for the entire story, so I won't be posting this disclaimer in every chapter.

Note from the Author: This work takes place a decade or so after the end of the current, unfinished series. A forewarning to fans of Rick's original works: Janus appears a number of times through much of my stories, but not as he appeared in the original books. I posit that either Riordan didn't do any research about Janus at all, or simply ignored all of it, because his depiction is enormously inaccurate. *sigh* Also, though his new series isn't completely published yet, I just assume the good guys win and move on. ;)

Hope you enjoy, and as always, please review.

/-wujy

1. I Turn Down a Pastry

If you're reading this, I hope you're just a regular kid who thinks this is all make believe, but the truth is, you probably already know that the world around you is not always what it seems. You might be a Believer. You might be able to see through the Mists. You might even be a half-blood; there are so many of us now.

No matter what you are, though, I should warn you that you may learn things about the world around you that you wish you didn't know. Even if you already know there are things out there that regular people can't see. Even if your hobbies include sword fighting and Capture the Flag. Even if you've talked to gods and fought with titans.

Trust me. There is so much more you still don't understand.

I encourage you to walk away now if you've changed your mind, because once you know, there's no going back. Once you believe, your belief only make them stronger.

I hope you're up for it.

/-

My name is Maddie Porter, and I ran away from home when I was twelve years old.

I hadn't exactly planned to run away. It just sort of happened on accident. I was walking home from school one day and I just... kept going. I didn't know where I was going, but just going seemed a lot more important that where I was headed or what I was going to do when I got there.

I didn't leave much behind me—just a crowded foster home and a steady D-minus in English—so I never felt too guilty about it, but if someone had told me where my unknowing feet were taking me, I might have tried harder to stick around and earn that coveted D-plus.

There are demigods all over, maybe including you, who have similar stories to mine, so I won't bore you with the details. I was a gangly, clumsy child with below average grades, a severe attention problem, and no real friends. What family I had changed all the time as kids were adopted or transferred, and I bounced around from home to home. I was even almost adopted a couple of times, but it just takes one ill-placed ant farm or near-fatal attempt at making pancakes to make a family reconsider.

Something changed on my twelfth birthday, though. I can't explain what happened, really, but I was standing on the playground after school, tugging my backpack over one shoulder. It was January in Florida, so it wasn't exactly cold, but the wind was sneaking under the collar of my jacket, throwing my hair every direction except back. I remember thinking that it would take a week to comb out all of the tangles when Angel, this adorable pipsqueak of a third-grader, hopped over the pavement toward me.

Angel and I lived in the same group home, though it was a miracle she hadn't been adopted, because she really looked like her name. She had short, curly blond hair and this heart-shaped face that still had a hint of baby fat and the shadows of freckles. Her cheeks had turned pink in the wind, but her curls were still perfect, bouncing around her face. She looked like one of those chubby babies with wings that shoot people in the butts with arrows and make them fall in love. Although, if someone shot me in the butt with an arrow, all it would make me is angry and more than a little confused.

"Maddieeeee!" she called, grinning and waving one short arm above her head to get my attention. "I know what today is!"

I couldn't help it; she was too darn cute. I smiled and said, "Um... Tuesday?"

"No! It's your birthday today!" she exclaimed, jumping directly in front of me. "Did you remember?"

"Oh, that," I said, nodding. "Yeah, I remembered."

"Do you think Mrs. Hollister got you anything?" she asked me, meaning our foster mother. "Do you think there'll be cake?"

I grinned. Angel was new to Mrs. Hollister's, so she didn't know. There wouldn't be any cake. There might be a cupcake with a single candle on it, if the aging matron remembered, but I could just as easily get the cupcake a week or a month after my birthday, or not at all. Mrs. Hollister meant well, but she was forgetful. Secretly, I hoped there was a cupcake waiting for me, though, even if she'd bought it a couple days early and it was stale. I'd even settle for a leftover doughnut, or one of those fast food pocket pies. I licked my lips. Nothing beats a baked good.

I ruffled Angel's hair and her curls sprang back into shape like I'd never touched her. "Yeah, maybe," I said, taking her hand. "Let's go see."

It happened before we'd even crossed the length of the playground, and if you're a half-blood, here's where my story is different from yours. When you dropped your life and left everything you knew, you probably fought your way out. Odds are, you had to slay a fury, or defeat a Nemean lion. You blew out a cafeteria wall or destroyed a few lockers and the one, good vending machine. For me, it was something so small, so insignificant, I'm sure Angel didn't even notice it. Any other day, I wouldn't have noticed it either.

The wind shifted.

It was subtle, but unmistakable, and it took my breath with it. I stumbled and dropped Angel's hand, taking a half step in the direction the wind was blowing. I closed my eyes for a moment and stood perfectly still. I took a deep, steadying breath, paralyzed by an urge stronger than any feeling I'd ever felt before. Suddenly, my hair wasn't whipping around wildly anymore. Suddenly, every cell in my body wanted to move; I wanted to walk and never stop.

I must have been standing there for a while, because Angel's voice was small and worried when it reached me.

"Maddie?"

She was tugging on my sleeve when I looked down, but I hadn't even noticed until she'd said something. Her little, innocent face was looking at me with wide eyes, but she smiled when I did.

"Sorry, kid," I said, even though I was only a few years older than she was. "I just remembered that I forgot my Social Studies book," I lied. "You can get yourself home without me, right?"

"I'll wait for you," she said, raising up to her tiptoes and then rolling back onto the balls of her feet.

I shook my head. "Oh, no," I said. "You have to get back home before the other kids and make sure to save me a piece of that cake, okay?"

She seemed to like that answer, because she smiled. I kissed her on the forehead lightly and walked back toward the school.

"Yeah!" she shouted. "I'll save you some cake!" It was decided.

I glanced back at her over my shoulder and she looked so happy that I felt sick to my stomach for lying to her like that. She waved good-bye to me with her whole arm, throwing it back and forth before heading off, bouncing on her right foot with every step. I was sad to see her go, because part of me knew I was never going to see her again, but I turned my face back into the wind and the world lined up once more.

That's when I started walking. And I never stopped.