[A/N: Some of this I will be taking straight from the book, small actions or pieces of conversation. All of this is property of Rick Riordan, I swear I'm not trying to steal his brilliance! AND I need more reviews please, guys!]
**Flash Forward Five Years**
Annabeth was at the Big House, talking with Chiron, when it happened. When he came, when her life was turned upside down and changed forever.
"Really, Chiron, it's ridiculous!" she argued heatedly. "I'm smart and I'm capable. If you just gave me some more information, I could—"
Chiron cut across her, sounding angry, which was rare for him. "Annabeth Chase, for the final time, I cannot tell you any more than what you have heard. In fact, you shouldn't even know that much, and you wouldn't if it weren't for that hat of yours." He frowned at her disapprovingly, looking uncharacteristically stern. Then he sighed and continued, "I don't pick who goes on quests. That is determined by the Oracle, as you well know. Since she has not given you a prophecy, this is not your quest to undertake. That is my final decision."
"But Chiron—!" she protested. He cut her off again, raising his hand and glancing around. Annabeth scowled and opened her mouth to continue her protesting, but then he spoke.
"Shh. Do you hear that?" he murmured, tilting his head to one side. In the distance she could just make out someone yelling…for their mother? Annabeth shook her head, confused, and turned towards the sound. She was slightly alarmed to see a guy with dark hair dragging Grover over Half-Blood Hill. Grover was unconscious, and both of them were coated with mud and blood.
The boy—he looked to be roughly Annabeth's age—stumbled up to the porch of the Big House. "Help…" he mumbled just before he collapsed in a heap on top of Grover. Annabeth moved toward him, saying excitedly to Chiron, "He's the one. He must be!"
"Silence, Annabeth," Chiron told her, looking at the unconscious boys with a frown. "I think he's still conscious. Bring him inside." Annabeth nodded and bent over, pulling the boy to his feet as Chiron grabbed Grover. When the guy sagged, Annabeth pulled his arm around her shoulders and dragged him to the infirmary. She set him down on a cot with a grunt before turning impatiently back to Chiron.
"He is the one, though, isn't he? You know, Chiron, I know you do," she said insistently, not willing to be so easily distracted from her argument.
Chiron looked weary and worried. "He could be, child. But we won't know for sure until the gods decide to tell us."
Annabeth groaned loudly, stamping her foot and glaring. "But Chiron, that could take months! We don't have that kind of time. The summer solstice—"
"I'm well aware of what will occur on the summer solstice," he interrupted. "More so than you are, child. However, there is nothing more we can do at this moment. Now, I need to go tend to Mr. Underwood's wounds." Grover groaned something about food, but otherwise he didn't stir. "Can you watch this young man until he awakens?"
Annabeth was tempted to continue arguing, but he pierced her with his eyes and she knew disputing him right now was pointless. Trying not to look sulky, Annabeth nodded. She sat down by his cot as Chiron clopped out, studying the guy's face. He was really thin and kind of short, and his hair was seriously dark. At the moment he looked really pale, and he had a cut on his cheek along with several bruises that were a myriad of colorful splotches against his white skin.
Sighing, Annabeth grabbed the nectar and ambrosia along with a washcloth. She used the washcloth to clean the mud and blood from his face. Then she started to spoon ambrosia into his mouth. It dribbled out over his lips, and she couldn't help smirking a little as she wiped it off his chin, snickering when she noticed his drooling.
When she snickered, his eyes cracked open a slit. He squinted up at her bemusedly. Annabeth was struck by an idea—maybe…just maybe…it was possible that he knew what had been stolen. Maybe he could tell her, and then she would…ask Chiron again. Stifling a sigh and making a mental note to think more on that later, Annabeth leaned in to whisper urgently, "What will happen on the summer solstice?"
"What?" His voice was a hoarse croak. Annabeth nervously glanced over her shoulder to check that Chiron hadn't returned, then leaned in closer.
"What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!" She stared at him hard, as though she could force him to tell him everything by sheer force of will. He just kept looking confused and dazed.
"I'm sorry…" He mumbled. "I don't…" He shook his head.
Then somebody knocked on the door. Annabeth quickly shoved the spoonful of ambrosia in his mouth, watching in irritation as his eyes slid shut again. If this was "the guy", the one who was supposedly going to save Olympus by the summer solstice, it didn't seem like he would be of much use on his own. He didn't seem to bright or strong. Heck, he was just a kid! Annabeth felt a surge of mixed anger and despair as the door creaked open behind her.
She turned around, ready to snap the head off of whomever was about to come between her and her answers. Then she saw that it was Grover and felt her face soften. She beckoned him over. He came and sat by her, looking concernedly at the boy's face. "How is he?"
"I think he's fine. He was conscious a second ago. He'll probably be up again soon." She then noticed the shoe box Grover was holding. Curious, she pointed at it. "What's that?"
"It's a Minotaur horn," he said quietly. "Percy broke the horn off and stabbed it with its own horn. I thought…I thought he might want to keep it." Grover sounded upset, so Annabeth slid a comforting arm around his shoulders, squeezing lightly. Then she looked at the guy—Percy, Grover had said his name was Percy—thoughtfully. This skinny midget had single-handedly killed the Minotaur and gotten its horn? Annabeth had to grudgingly admit that she was impressed. If he could do that, he might not be that bad.
"So…what can you tell me about him?" Annabeth was dying of curiosity. He had stumbled into camp drenched in mud and blood, crying for his mom, dragging an unconscious satyr. He had apparently fought the Minotaur with no training and won. What else could he do?
"Not much," Grover admitted. "Only that I think he's powerful." Grover watched Percy solemnly with wide, unusually wise brown eyes.
Annabeth tried to hide her disappointment. "Okay…do you know what happened to his mom?" she asked, recalling his tear-streaked face as he yelled for her and begged for help.
Grover looked sad. "The Minotaur got her." Oh. Annabeth winced sympathetically.
"Do you know if he—" Annabeth began, but a voice behind her interrupted.
"Annabeth, would you please come with me? Mr. D and I would like to speak with you." Annabeth broke off guiltily when Chiron spoke, standing up. She patted Grover's curly-haired head as she passed him, glancing over at Percy again.
He was still out cold, and once again drool was trailing down his chin. Suppressing another smirk, Annabeth followed Chiron out to the porch. Chiron backed into his wheelchair—probably so he wouldn't alarm Percy when he eventually came out—and rolled up to the table where Mr. D sat, picking up his cards. Annabeth sighed and leaned against the porch railing, trying—and probably failing—not to look impatient. Chiron dealt cards while Mr. D watched indifferently, sipping his diet Coke and scowling at her. But he hadn't threatened to turn her into a porpoise yet—he must be in a good mood today. But neither of the adults spoke, just played cards. Annabeth watched with growing irritation until she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Chiron, I really think—" she began, but he held up his hand. Annabeth bit back a growl of frustration, glaring.
"Now is not the right time to discuss things, child," Chiron told her mildly. "Soon, when Percy wakes up, we can talk about…things."
Annabeth's irritation faded, and she felt a thrill of excitement. "So it is him, then? He's the one the quest is meant for?" She didn't even try to hide the eagerness in her voice. Chiron gave her a quelling look, but it was Mr. D who spoke.
"Yes, yes, another brat to save my family from making fools of themselves," he grumbled, looking at his cards. "How thrilling, so wonderful, hurrah, blah, blah…" He trailed off apathetically. Annabeth looked at him in annoyance, but she bit her tongue—she knew better than to deliberately rouse the anger of a god. Even a god as useless and exasperating as Mr. D. She turned to Chiron again, opening her mouth, but before she even got one word out he was shaking his head at her.
Annabeth clamped her mouth shut again with a surge of bitterness, her jaw flexing. Oh, of course, he couldn't tell her—she wasn't the Chosen One. She never got to test her skills. She was always stuck here, left behind while the others got the chance to prove themselves. She was smart. She was strong—she could fight better than most people in camp. Why couldn't she be the one who got to lead a quest, just once? It wasn't fair! Annabeth wanted to scream from the utter unjustness of it all sometimes. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the railings, not even bothering to hide her scowl.
She didn't know how long they sat there like that. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Eventually, Grover came out with Percy trailing behind him. Percy was clutching the Minotaur horn like a teddy bear, looking sad and lost and confused, like a child just waking up from a nightmare. Annabeth pitied him—he didn't seem to realize that his nightmare was only just beginning. Grover murmured something to him before sitting by Mr. D. Percy looked at Chiron and his eyes widened.
"Mr. Brunner?!" he yelped. He looked even more confused now. Annabeth watched him carefully, wondering what he was thinking, how much he knew, how he would handle this situation.
Chiron turned to face Percy with a genial smile. "Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle!" He gestured to the chair next to him, and Percy sat uncertainly, causing Mr. D to glare at him and sigh heavily.
"Oh, very well, I suppose I must say it," he groused. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now don't expect me to be glad to see you." And with that he dismissed Percy, giving his full attention back to his cards.
"Um…right," Percy mumbled, edging uneasily away from the god, closer to Chiron. His sea-green eyes were wary and distrustful. Annabeth nodded to herself—that was smart. He seemed to have good instincts.
She was snapped out of her musings when Chiron called her over. "Annabeth?" He beckoned her forward and introduced her to Percy. As Annabeth studied him she could barely keep the excitement off her face. This guy could very well be her chance to finally get out, to go on a quest, if she could only get him to pick her when the time came. Annabeth was so lost in her speculation and planning reactions to possible outcomes, she was barely aware of Chiron talking to her.
"…check on Percy's bunk?" he asked, and Annabeth re-focused on the present abruptly. "We'll be putting him in Cabin Eleven for now."
Annabeth nodded. "Sure, Chiron." Then she glanced at Percy and didn't quite know what to say. Her first impression of him didn't have much of an effect on her. He was a scrawny kid that Grover professed to be powerful, and she knew from experience that Grover had a good nose. But if he was so powerful, why did he seem so…so…mediocre? Annabeth mentally shook her head and said the first thing that ran through her mind: "You drool in your sleep."
What the—of all the possible things she could've said, why on Olympus had she chosen that? Gods, she needed to get out of there. She gave him one last calculating look before jogging off to Cabin Eleven.
If this is the guy we all have our hopes pinned on, she though grimly as she ran, then we are all in very big trouble.
