I thrust towards my opponent, and felt his skin give as my knife pierced through his armor. He made no sound, however, and his expression didn't even change.

I wanted it to change. I didn't have time for that, though, and I twisted around, gnashing my teeth as I threw one of my knives at the next man coming towards me. He abruptly stopped, but didn't make any noise.

As soon as the hilt left my hand, I drew my sword and ripped the face of my first opponent open. Fluff floated to the floor as the dummy magically mended itself, and I heard a slow clapping from the door.

"Well done, Jane," Brandon Wellen grinned, leaning against a rack of weapons. He was an Apollo kid, and looked it, too: His short blond hair, golden eyes, and tan skin made girls melt. Not me, though.

"What are you doing here, Brandon? It's three in the morning." I snapped, sheathing my sword. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get in practice so I wouldn't have to tomorrow. Plus, I enjoyed the satisfaction of winning, even if it was against a burlap dummy.

"I could be asking you the same thing," Brandon took an arrow from the rack and balanced it in his hand. "But to answer your question, the harpies woke me up. They wouldn't stop chattering outside of our bunk, and the rest of the guys decided to watch a movie. I wasn't interested."

I raised an eyebrow. I had never trusted Brandon, but I didn't want to argue right now. Suddenly, I was exhausted.

"Look, Brandon, I'm tired. I don't know what you want, but whatever it is, I don't have it." My voice was weary. I was slipping on my coat when he spoke, his voice smooth and hinted with a smile.

"Oh, come on, Jane. Every single guy in camp wants you, and you don't want anyone. Why won't you just open up? You've been here for seven years, and you haven't shown anyone who you truly are. Anyone except for that one Nike girl."

"Kate?" I shook my head, slipping my throwing knives into the lightweight vest I used for training. "You're not doing anything to help your case, Brandon."

Kate had been my best friend for seven years, having taken me in when nobody else bothered to speak to me. She was currently in the middle of her freshman year at NYU, and I was more than happy for her.

"What? She's a Nike kid. They don't have much going for them other than a competitive spirit and some leaves." He shrugged. "Come on, Jane. What's the real reason? I can do it all for you. I can shoot a bow, I can heal people, and look at me! I was blessed with Apollo's looks." He made a wide gesture to himself, and a sneer started on my lip.

"My dad's your brother, Brandon. Even if I was attracted to you, it'd be too weird." I shuddered internally at the idea of kissing my cousin. But the godly side of your ancestors didn't matter, Chiron told me. As long as you didn't date a cabinmate, it was like going out with any other person.

"That didn't stop Artemis!" Brandon called as I pushed out of the door and into the snow. There was almost three inches of it down, and it was amazing. I never saw snow in California.
"She went out with your dad, who's her nephew!"

I shook my head, trudging towards my cabin, and was relieved to notice that Brandon wasn't following me.

The Artemis cabin was lonely thing, as I was something of an oddity. The first and, most likely, last, child of Artemis in history. Don't get me wrong, I respected Artemis completely, but I would like her a bit more if I had a sibling.

Normally, it was empty. Sometimes, the Huntresses stopped by for a week or two, and that was fun, but I had to urge to join them. I wasn't interested in living while constantly pursuing something. I wanted to settle down, to live life to the fullest. And I couldn't do that as a Huntress.

The cabin was separated into two rooms. There was a little foyer when you first walked in, a nice wooden table with a portrait of Artemis and a bow hanging on the wall. To the right was the room that the Huntresses used, a simple arrangement of bunk beds. To the left was mine.

It was pretty big, and looked like a normal room. In fact, you'd think it was a normal room, save for the long bronze sword hanging on one wall and the rack containing my vest of throwing knives and a bow.

The rest was normal. It had plush carpets and a queen-sized bed, a flat-screen television and an Xbox. My room was a hit during the day when the other campers would rent out my television, as most cabins didn't have the luxury. I had worked at the camp store for five years to save enough money for my room, and I wasn't about to let people use it for free.

I prided myself on the room, the assortment of book and movie posters on the wall, and the air of normalcy I still had in the middle of this strange camp. Strange, yes, but it was my home. I loved it, and in fact, it was the only thing I allowed myself to love.

After changing into pajama pants and an old Knicks shirt, I collapsed onto my bed. Curled up under the thick silver comforter along with me were my hopes and my doubts, my dreams and my nightmares, and my real life. Here I allowed myself to think freely, to let everything I have shoved away during the day break free like water breaking through a dam.

I considered Brandon. He was a creep, no doubt about it. Anyone who followed me like him deserved one thing, and that was a restraining order.

At least there was the new demigod to look forward to. He was going to arrive in the morning, and, as the senior counselor for Artemis and Percy's right hand man, or, er, woman, I was in charge of giving him a luxury tour of the place.

I could imagine it now, like the tours I had done before him. Ah, yes, here is the rock wall! I hope you enjoy getting burnt, because there's no way around it! or, Don't listen to the nereids! A kid last year almost drowned because of them!

Yeah, from the outside Camp sounded incredibly dangerous with no real value to it. But those of us who actually called this place home knew that while it was dangerous, it was home. And home is where I intend to stay.