Chapter 1: I Almost Get Killed by a Guitarist
My name's Dawn Allegro, my mom, Grace, is Italian. But as for my dad, well, I've never met him. He found my mom, 'fell in love' with her, then ditched her pretty much as soon as he found out my mom was pregnant with me. My mom keeps telling me that that wasn't why he left, but that it was because he wasn't allowed to stay. No offense, but that's probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Anyway, this is the story of a not-so-normal girl.
...
"Dawn! Wake up sweetie," my mom whispered, shaking my body. I flipped over and covered my head with my fluffy pillow and curled up.
"Five more minutes," I mumbled.
"No honey, I'm afraid not," my mom sighed, pulling my blanket off my body. I shrieked as the cold air encased me like a cocoon in my bed. I grappled my mom for my blanket, sitting up and tackling her. Our identically waist-length blonde hair was flying out behind us, swirling in the air.
"Okay, Okay!" I squealed, releasing my mom as she rolled her blue eyes at me. That was the only different thing about us. My eyes were a soft chestnut/almond brown.
"I'll see you downstairs at the breakfast table." My mom ruffled my hair before leaving my room and closing the door behind her. I shuffled out of bed, and walked over to my wardrobe. OK, so I wasn't much of a fashion diva, but I did care about how I looked. I put on black high-waisted shorts with lots of buttons on the front, a bright sunshine yellow crop top with short sleeves and yellow converse.
...
"Hey," I greeted my mom, bounding down the stairs, and jumping off the last step and kissing my mom on the cheek. She was still in her PJ's but she had started cooking pancakes.
"Hi honey, took you long enough," my mom scolded light-heartedly, flicking my hand away from a small pile of steaming pancakes that had just come off the stove.
"Whatever, I'm going to be late," I sighed, going into the cream and yellow colored living room and grabbing my bag. I hastily stuffed my folders into my bag, slung the straps over my shoulders and went back in the kitchen to see my mom holding a small box filled with pancakes.
"Here, for on the go, since you have to catch a bus." My mom smiled weakly and I couldn't help but feel that there was something wrong, but I had to leave. I gave her a brief hug, and made my way. And as I walked to the bus stop, I still couldn't help but worry about why she had seemed so weary and apprehensive.
...
"Dawn!" Kyle yelled, limping over to me. I smiled gratefully and hugged him after doing our secret handshake. Kyle had curly soft brown hair that was constantly covered by a baseball cap, he limped because he had some weird leg muscle disorder and had to walk with crutches everywhere he went. But don't let that fool you. He's as strong as a sumo wrestler. One time, after an extra long summer where we didn't manage to see each other the whole time, he had greeted me with a bone crushing hug and even dropped his crutches. I suppose this was suspicious, but I tried not to let it bother me.
"Did we miss the bus?" I asked, taking out a pancake, splitting it in two and giving one half to Kyle.
Kyle took the pancake but shook his head. "Nah, we've got two minutes."
I nodded. "Hey, Kyle...you know, about the school trip."
Kyle visibly tensed, and I wasn't sure why. "Yeah, of course. Why?"
"Well, I don't know if I really want to go," I mumbled. "And don't worry, it's not because of you! I just, I always make something bad happen."
"It's okay," Kyle said, squeezing my shoulder. "Really. I understand."
"You do?"
"100 percent. But, the bus is here, so let's get moving." Kyle dusted some stray crumbs off his pants, helped me up and together we got on the bus.
...
"Ms Allegro, can you please pay attention!" my history teacher, Mr Turner, snapped.
I jumped. "I'm sorry, sir." Really? Was he seriously pulling that card again with me? He knew I was ADHD and dyslexic, yet he often treated me as though I was just some normal kid, without any problems and nothing to worry about.
"Stay behind after class, please," he grumbled, turning back to the board as I heard quiet snickers from the back of the room.
"She's like, so, stupid!" a voice whispered behind me. I sank lower into my seat. This day couldn't get any worse.
"Could Dawn Allegro please report to the principal's office at once, I repeat, Dawn Allegro, principal's office."
I panicked. I couldn't be in trouble again, I'd only just got to school and had the first ten minutes of my first lesson. Some more snickers followed me as I picked up my books and bag, received a sympathetic look from Kyle, and walked out the room, slamming the door behind me.
...
"Ms Allegro," the principal, Mrs Milano, said softly, shaking her head. "Before you say anything, you are most definitely not in trouble. In fact, quite the contrary."
"Um...okay?" I said uncertainly.
"Please, sit." Mrs Milano pointed to a horrible plastic snot green chair. I nodded obediently and dropped into the chair, looking up at my principal. She had soft features, a bit like a fairy, flowing golden hair and intense green eyes. She sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"Do you know anything about mythology?" Mrs Milano asked.
"Not really," I replied hesitantly. I wasn't sure where this was going. I mean, my principal was talking to me about mythology? Yep, there was something wrong with her.
"How about the Greeks, and what they believed in?" she queried, leaning forward on her chair.
"Again, not really." I seriously thought she was going to fall off her chair.
"Understandable, understandable," she murmured, tapping her bottom lip with her pen. "But surely you must've heard of Zeus, Athena, Poseidon etc?"
"Yeah, those names ring a bell." I nodded slowly.
"Ah, good," Mrs Milano sighed, smiling slightly, "well, those gods and goddesses are very much still alive. In fact, they are here, right now in America. Sometimes, they come down and have children with mortals. These children are called demigods, or more commonly, half-bloods."
"Okay," I said, since it was the only thing I could think of. Mrs Milano opened her mouth, about to say something, when she suddenly must've changed her mind, because she closed her mouth and shook her head. The bell rang.
"Meet me here at lunch" was all she said before shoving me out the door.
...
I had music next, and luckily (not!) we had to work in groups. My group consisted of me, Kyle, some rich snobby girl who never really showed up, and a dark mysterious guy who I didn't even know went to my school.
"Now, get on with it," Ms Love, our teacher, barked. We got into our groups, and were assigned mini practice rooms to work in. Of course, the rich snobby girl wasn't there, and Kyle had to leave halfway through for a doctor appointment about his legs.
"Who's on guitar?" I asked, picking up an acoustic guitar and holding it out.
"Nah ah!" Kyle blurted. "Remember third grade? I had to play the xylophone, and even that didn't work out."
"I'll do it," mysterious guy said, snatching the guitar and strumming a few chords. I could tell he all ready knew how to play.
"I'll sing," I offered. Mysterious guy snickered and raised his eyebrows at me.
"And I'll play the reed pipes," Kyle suggested.
"Reed pipes?" I laughed. "Kyle, are you serious?"
"Fine, recorder it is," he huffed.
...
Halfway through, Kyle picked up his stuff, gave in the lame recorder and left me and mysterious guy alone in the room. I hadn't sung yet, because Kyle would always stare at me when I sang around him, and it really put me off.
"So, Ms Musical," mysterious guy whispered, leaning back on his chair, "sing."
"Okay, fine," I said stubbornly. I coughed lightly then started humming the instrumental intro. "I walked across, an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand."
Mystery guy smirked. "Nice voice."
"Thanks," I muttered, "whatever your name is."
"Mike, my name's Mike," mystery guy Mike said, flexing his arms. "Tell me, do you know about the gods and goddesses from the Greek times?"
I gasped. "You too? Why is everybody asking me that?"
"Everybody?" Mike echoed, shooting from his chair.
"Well, only you and Mrs Milano," I explained. Mike's face darkened. He stood up, and as he did, he seemed to grow. I watched in fascination, and mostly fear, as he stood at a towering three meters, and that was with his head bent so as not to bump his head. He had long, muscled arms that held a flaming bronze sphere.
"Well, seems she figured it out," he growled, his voice shaking the floor. Guitars fell, piano keys broke.
"Figured what out?" I demanded, doing my best to seem not afraid. It didn't work.
Mike laughed deeply. "Surely you know, demigod? She figured you out, just as I did. But, I got to you first. And you will pay!" I was stunned. First of all, it seemed like he was going to kill me, second, he called me a demigod. What the hell was going on?
...
"Mike! Stop!" I screamed as a fifth bronze sphere was thrown at my head, burning off the very tips of my hair.
"No, demigod! I'm afraid not!" Mike boomed, picking up a sphere and chucking at where I had been only seconds before. Alarms were blaring outside at the sense of smoke. Screams echoed against the walls, and I could see fellow students rushing about, Ms Love barking unheard orders. I lunged for the door and yanked on the handle. No luck. Mike seemed to be a step ahead of me. The door had been jammed, somehow, and I was trapped, destined to be killed by a mysterious guitarist called Mike. Brilliant. And to think people actually looked forward to Friday.
"Stand back, Uphias!" I heard behind me. I turned round to see Mrs Milano, wearing battle armor and holding a bow and arrow, the string pulled taught as she directed the point of the arrow at Mike's heart. Or was he Uphias?
"Rose! Curse you, curse you!" Mike, I mean, Uphias yelled, as the arrow was released, and Uphias burst into a column of flame. Then he was gone, a pile of ashes left in his place. I looked over to where Mrs Milano was, but found I couldn't see her. Because she wasn't there. I looked back at the pile of ashes, my head swooning. And then I fainted.
...
I woke briefly for a few seconds to the sound of whispering, hushed urgent voices discussing an escape plan and route. I was lying on a soft linen bed, the sheets hugging my body, feather pillows supporting my aching head and neck. I was in a strange room, I wasn't sure where.
"We can't let her go, not now, she needs to rest," the first voice said.
"It's not safe, you saw what happened with Uphias," another voice hissed back. I almost recognized it, and was about to sit upright and interject, when sleep pulled me under, and I welcomed the peaceful darkness once again. I woke again, some time later, to see Mrs Milano leaning over me, spooning a warm, soft liquid into my mouth. It tasted like my mom's homemade piña colada drink (with no alcohol, obviously). I smiled slightly, and heard chuckling.
"She's awake," Mrs Milano chirped, placing a cold, damp flannel on my forehead.
"What happened?" I asked weakly, trying to sit up. But I was too drained of energy, too weak. I fell back, and Mrs Milano caught me gently, placing me back so I was lying down properly.
"Shhh, take it easy," she whispered, "you need rest." I obeyed. Quite frankly I felt as though I had just had the very life sucked out of me.
...
"What time is it?" was the first thing I said. I had woken up, drank some water, changed into sweatpants and a hoodie that were left on a chair by my bed, and gone down a set of wooden stairs to find Mrs Milano sitting in a living room next to a man in a wheelchair and...Kyle.
"Dawn!" Kyle cried, racing over to me. I pretended not to notice the deep worry in his eyes, the twitchiness of his fingers when he had been waiting.
"Hey, Kyle!" I replied, ruffling his curls under his cap.
He grinned sheepishly. "I'm so glad you're alright." He then turned serious. "I'm so sorry about what happened in music."
"Don't be." I shrugged. "It couldn't be helped."
"Ah, Ms Dawn, why, you're even brighter than your father," the man in the wheelchair commented. He and Mrs Milano laughed. The man had brown hair with wisps of gray, kind, calculating eyes and he wore a tweed jacket. He looked up at me, and his smile faltered slightly. "Does she know?"
"I'm not sure," Mrs Milano sighed, avoiding everyone's gaze by staring intently at a piece of cheese that had been left on the ground.
"Know what?" I demanded, anger swelling inside me. I was right there in the room, and they were just going ahead and talking about like I wasn't there.
"You're a demigod. Your father is a god," the man said weakly, mustering what he could of a smile. I didn't remember anything after that, except the floor rushing to my face.
...
When I came to, I was lying in the same room as before. It had creamy wallpaper, soft plush couches lining the wall, a wooden chair by the door, the bed I was lying in, a wardrobe, a dresser and a window on the left wall. Mrs Milano was standing anxiously by my side, holding another damp flannel in her hands, wringing out the water into a clear bowl. The man was sitting by her, his face grim, but Kyle was nowhere to be seen.
"I think there's been a mistake," I murmured, my eyelids fluttering open as I turned slightly to look at Mrs Milano and the man.
"No, my dear, I am afraid there has been no mistake at all," the man said apologetically. "First, before we talk too much about the wider demigod community, let me introduce myself. I, am Chiron. Activities director at Camp Half-Blood, and the official trainer of the best heroes."
"Like who?" I asked cautiously, siting up and gratefully receiving a glass of water from Mrs Milano.
"Heracles, Jason," Chiron mused, "you name him, I've possibly probably trained him-or her. I was born eons ago, before time as we know it, and I helped those heroes. Now, I still live today. I am immortal, until I am no longer needed to teach heroes, or demigods, like you."
I nodded, letting the information soak in. "So, you're saying, I'm half god?"
"Yes, that's precisely what I'm saying," Chiron agreed, smiling at me. Despite myself and my state of confusion, I smiled back.
"You'll have to come to Camp Half-Blood," Chiron continued. "It's the only safe place for Greek demigods like you. We shall leave at sunrise tomorrow, and we must make haste. Monsters are lurking at every corner."
"Like Mike!" I blurted out, forgetting to ask about the camp.
"Or, as we all know him, Uphias," Chiron muttered gravely. "Yes, monsters like that."
"But what was Mike? Like, what type of monster was he?" I fidgeted nervously with my bed sheet.
"He was a Laistrygonian giant." Chiron rubbed his eyes, and Mrs Milano led him out my room to let me get changed.
"Today," she said. "You'll be saying goodbye to your family." She closed the door, and I didn't know if she meant goodbye for a while, or forever.
...
I stuffed what few things I had (old clothes from the day at school) into my bag, hoisted it onto my back and trudged down the stairs. Mrs Milano was at a dining table with Kyle and Chiron. Fruit, eggs, bacon, bread, pastries, cereal and juice had all been set elegantly on the table. Chiron was helping himself to a plate of eggs, Kyle was munching on something silver, which was kinda strange, and Mrs Milano nibbled daintily at a piece of lightly buttered bread.
"Morning," I mumbled, sliding into a chair.
"We won't, heck we can't! Oh, good morning, Dawn," Mrs Milano chirped. I wondered what she had been talking about, but I was too tired and too hungry.
"Have something to eat, we are leaving soon so you can see your mom and spend the night there, pack anything you need and then we'll be on our way," Chiron explained. I nodded politely more interested in the sparkling apple juice fountain in front of me. I put a glass under the pouring juice, and my cup filled up, but it magically made it so that it never overflowed and the juice didn't drip down the sides.
"Dawn, can we talk?" Mrs Milano asked, placing her bread down and looking at me seriously.
"O-of course," I stammered, sitting up and nearly knocking over my glass of juice. Mrs Milano led me out of the room, through a maze of corridors and doors, until we arrived in a large room. It was quite dark, but as we entered, lights seemed to burst into life and fill the room with a warm glow. Resting against the walls were stacks of swords, spears, bows, quivers filled with arrows, and more deadly looking weapons.
"This is only the basics of what a demigod like you will need to stay alive," Mrs Milano told me. She walked over to some daggers glinting evilly in the light, picked up one with her hands and threw it at me. I dodged, just in time.
"What was that for?" I yelled.
"That's for you," she said, smirking slightly. "You had to pass the test first. That should be enough, for now anyway. Come on, it's time for you to see your mom."
...
Okay, so me and my mom have been apart before. For instance, when I went to one of the many boarding schools. But this was different. For starters, she was glad to see me alive, and second, she had seemed to know that an attack would occur.
"I'm just so glad you're home," my mom whispered, squeezing my hand. We were sitting on the stools at the breakfast bar, sipping coffee and nibbling on waffles. Mrs Milano had excused herself, saying she would rather not break the moment with her awkwardness, and left the house. Chiron and Kyle both stayed with us.
"Me too, but I, I don't want to leave," I gulped, fighting back tears.
"Oh, honey! Don't cry, please, you'll make me cry." My mom wiped my eyes with her thumb.
"Dawn, you are special, you know that." Chiron wheeled over to us. "Camp Half-Blood is the safest place for you. You have to pack soon, the day is almost over and we have to leave early tomorrow morning. Please, be quick." I ignored Chiron, until I heard the front door slam. Then I looked over to where Chiron had been, and saw Kyle grinning.
"Why are you happy?" I demanded, getting up from the stool.
Kyle jumped in alarm. "I'm sorry, Dawn. It's just, I'm happy for you."
"Why on Earth would you be happy for me?" I asked, taken aback.
"Because, I get to come with you to Camp Half-Blood."
...
"What are you talking about?" I had rushed to my room, Kyle following in my wake as I raced around my room, throwing my things in a backpack from previous school years.
"Can you please stand still for one second?" Kyle whined, stamping his foot. That's what got me. He didn't have his crutches. I turned round slowly, and stared at him intently, waiting to see what he had to say.
"I'm listening." I crossed my arms.
"Okay, well..." Kyle began to pull down his trousers.
"Kyle!" I yelled in outrage. What the hell did he think he was up to? But he didn't listen. I panicked, what would my mom think if she just walked in right now? And then I stopped, mid-thought. Kyle was standing in front of me, without legs. In place of his legs he had furry legs and instead of feet he had, well, hooves.
"Surprise," Kyle said weakly, trying to smile.
I felt my knees wobble below me, so I sat on my bed. "You're half donkey?"
"Goat! I'm half goat!" Kyle exclaimed, stamping his foot, I mean, hoof. I felt my head swimming with worries and thoughts. My mind went blank, and I fell back onto my bed.
...
"Oh, thank the gods, she's awake," my mom whispered, rushing over to me and pulling me into a hug. "You have got to stop fainting so much."
"He's a...a...a..." I stammered, sitting up and frantically searching the room for any sign of Kyle.
"Shhh, honey. I know. He's a satyr. He left, he was embarrassed." My mom stroked my hair back from my face. She handed me a drink, and I sipped it. I'd tasted it before. It was like piña colada. My mom handed me a bag, and a box full of pancakes along with apple juice.
"What?" I questioned, my voice hoarse.
"It's morning," my mom answered. "You're leaving today." The doorbell rang. I sprang out of bed, yanked the door open and found Kyle there alongside some other girl who looked about as confused as I felt. Which, by the way, was a lot.
"Dawn, meet Nicole, Nicole, meet Dawn," Kyle introduced. Nicole had brown hair, intense green eyes, and she held a dagger in her hand. She saw me staring.
"Imperial Gold, that's what the satyr says, anyway," Nicole explained, twirling the dagger in her hand. Even though she looked very confused, I couldn't help but notice a dangerous glint in her eye. By looking at her, I guessed that if you messed with her, she'd do karma's job instead.
"Um, nice," I said. She smiling half-heartedly, her innocent look returning. I couldn't help but wonder why Kyle had decided to put us together.
...
"Keep safe, and make sure they serve pancakes." My mom enclosed me in a hug. I could barely breathe, but I tried to keep it strong and not cry.
"I will, you too," I whispered.
"Did you pack everything? Have you got your toothbrush? Some clothes? What about snacks? You'll need snacks. Oh, god, did you remember the snacks?"
"Mom, really, I'm fine, everything's fine," I sighed, smiling. My mom let me go, and looked me once over before turning and running into our house, her eyes blurred with tears. I turned round to face Nicole and Kyle, who were awkwardly looking at each other.
"Are you okay?" Nicole asked gently, stepping towards me carefully and patting my shoulder.
I wiped away an escaped tear. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Dawn, it's okay to be sad about leaving your mom," Kyle insisted.
"Yeah, well, I'm fine," I snapped.
"So, are we all ready to go?" Nicole asked, looking between me and Kyle.
"Yeah, we're ready," I said, keeping my eyes on Kyle. "Ready as we'll ever be."
...
We trudged through the city of New York in an uncomfortable silence, nearly losing each other several times in the busy streets. Lucky for me, I didn't have the New York accent, so people wouldn't ever wonder why we were getting lost if we lived here. Some time passed when we came across a nearly empty Subway.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Nicole stated, rubbing her stomach. Mine rumbled in agreement.
"Sure." Kyle nodded his head enthusiastically. He opened up his bag, and cursed in Ancient Greek. Somehow, I knew what he said, it was, Curse My Unlucky Gym Shorts.
"What?" I asked. "Did you understand that?" I turned to Nicole. She nodded.
"I only have Drachma on me," Kyle explained.
"You mean," I said. Drachma, that was the currency in Ancient Greece. "Ancient Greek currency?"
"Yeah, no dollars, though," Kyle muttered. I searched through my bag and pulled out two twenty dollar bills.
"Problem solved." I grinned.
...
We walked through the door, and a little bell went off somewhere in the back of the shop. We were the only customers besides a small, old man wearing tattered police uniform. We figured it was best not to talk to him. I walked up to the counter and my eyes lingered on the lady behind the counter. She had long curly ebony hair, deep brown eyes so that they almost appeared white, and pale skin that had a slight green tint to it. I didn't know if I imagined that. She covered all her skin except her face and neck. She wore a high collared shirt, long pants, doc martens and gloves that everyone had to wear when working.
"Hi," she said brightly. "How many I help you?"
"Well, we'll take it to go, but I'll have a half size Italian bread with cheese, ham, pickles and honey mustard sauce," I said. The lady smiled again, and made my order. I looked at her name tag. Dracula. What a weird name to give someone. I didn't know if she was pranking or being serious, but I didn't bother about it. Once Nicole and Kyle had gotten their orders were paid, and were about to leave when the blinds on the windows fell down and the doors all slammed shut.
"What's going on?" Nicole yelled, grabbing me and Kyle and sticking close to us.
"I have no idea," Kyle stuttered.
"I do." We turned round, and right where the lady 'Dracula' had been, was a woman in the top half, but on the bottom half, she had two large snake trunks. "Die!" She threw a spear at me, and I was slow to move. I saw it come closer, and a scream escaped me.