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CHAPTER THREE

My first thought when I woke up was that I wished I was dead. My mouth was like cotton and my head was still spinning a bit and I still had like a ten percent chance of throwing up.

Then I remembered last night and I sat up faster than I should have. "Whoah," a familiar voice said, steadying my torso as I swayed. "Careful. We couldn't give you that much nectar or ambrosia. We have no idea how much you can take."

Nectar and ambrosia. It sounded familiar but I couldn't exactly place it.

I couldn't place where I was either. It looked like some sort of medical ward—except with more of a cottage vibe rather than a sterile white hospital vibe—with several twin beds placed and medical kits strewn about, but it was empty save for me and the body standing next to me.

I tilted my head up to see Thalia staring back down at me. I groaned and fell backwards. "Fuck, you're real."

"Nice to see you again, too. I see you have your father's way with words." She froze after she finished speaking, as if she just remembered that my father was attacked and now missing. I was right along with her. I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying.

"So," I said, with a little more force than necessary to keep my voice steady, "Where am I? Everything's really fuzzy in my head."

"Yeah I bet. What do you remember?" she asked, sitting down in a chair next to me.

"Monsters. My parents missing. The headlines." I rotated my head to stare at her. "You said you'd explain when I'm safe and sober. Nothing is immediately attacking me and I'm...mostly sober."

Thalia sighed. "I've never really had to do this speech. Never really heard it either." She paused, looking down for a moment before continuing, her voice hesitant. "What do you know about mythology. Let's stick with just Greek mythology right now for simplicity."

My parents put me to bed every night when I was little with different tales of gods and monsters. My mom insisted on museum trips and made sure I knew the importance of every relic and weapon and name. "I know a good amount. My parents were kind of obsessed with it."

Thalia nodded, a repressed smile on her lips. "I bet." A deep breath. "See, the thing is, the term mythology isn't really… correct considering mythology implies...story. Fiction. That it's not real."

I waited her to continue or to start cracking up, telling me that I should see the look on my face, but instead she waited for me to say something. "And are you trying to tell me that it is real? That Apollo brings the sun into the sky and Zeus temper determines the weather."

Thalia cleared her throat. "I'll admit it's a little more complicated than that but basically? Yeah."

"Cool. Awesome." I said shaking my head and convinced of Thalia's insanity. Except… I'm pretty sure I was attacked by the minotaur last night and if my vague recollection of both the first monster and my parent's stories are correct… I think I also saw a manticore. "So what does that have to do with me? Why are these not-mythological myths trying to kill me and take my parents?"

"Well, you see, gods are real," Thalia continued, sounding more and more uncertain as she spoke. "And just like humans sometimes they fall in love or I guess just like… think someone's super hot or something, I don't know, and they have children."

I squinted my eyes. "Kay…"

Thalia rolled her eyes. "These children are called demigods or sometimes half-bloods, but I've got to admit, that's an outdated term. We've run into some issues with it. Basically, these kids are half god, half mortal."

"And what?" I said, an exasperated laugh tainting my voice. "You think I'm one of these demigods? That, what, my parents have been lying for years and one of them is a god or not my actual mom or dad? I look just like them both. Black hair, green eyes from dear old dad, and crazy hair and small nose and thin lips all courtesy of mom." I leaned forward slightly for emphasis. "I'm not a demigod."

Thalia nodded slowly. "No. But your parents are. Both of them."

"My parents? Children of gods? Bullshit."

"It's true. They both came to camp for the first time when they were much younger than you. That's where you are now, camp. Camp Half-Blood, specifically. It's a safe haven for demigods."

With all of that all I could manage to say is, "but I'm not a demigod."

Thalia shrugged. "Legacies are admittedly rather new to Greek culture here, but technically you are half god, just two different gods make up that half. We'll have to find out exactly where we want to—" Thalia stopped as someone knocked on the door.

Some scrawny kid about my age poked his head in. "Thalia Grace? Um, Chiron would like to speak with you."

Thalia stood. "I'm sure he would." Thalia glanced down at me. "This is a lot to take in and you have a lot more to digest than most. Take your time. I'll tell you the rest of the story when I get back."

I don't think I even moved as Thalia walked away from me. I stayed stone still staring at the ceiling until the exact moment the door clicked shut. As soon as it did I nearly threw myself out of bed.

In moments of crisis, I didn't sit still very well. I lashed out or broke arms or, worst came to worst, snuck out of windows. The window in the makeshift infirmary didn't even have a screen or any sort of lock and the room was located on the first floor. I had a harder time sneaking out of my bedroom last night to go to the party.

If I had been home would I have been taken, too? Would I have been able to help my parents?

Doesn't matter. Can't change the past. I just needed some air and to walk.

I landed on the ground more solidly than I could have hoped considering I was still like ten percent hungover. After that I just started walking and let me tell you, this 'camp' was insane. Sure they had volleyball courts and rock walls and cabins, but those volleyball players were way too intense and the rock wall had lava and each cabin seemed erratically themed. I saw teens swinging swords at each other, firing arrows, screaming in a language that wasn't english but also didn't feel foreign. It was chaotic.

I didn't stop walking until I reached the far edge of the camp, staring into Long Island Sound. For the first time that morning, I felt like I could breathe.

I nearly jumped when someone spoke. "You must be the new camper everyone's making a fuss about."

I turned and saw a guy about my age with dark skin and closely shaved hair. He looked casual in an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt but this image was slightly ruined by the odd blade hanging by his side, a sword with huge serrations cut in, not to mention his rigid posture and almost military cut hairstyle.

I was suddenly aware I certainly had party hair and smeared make up and was wearing heavily torn skinny jeans and a vintage Green Day plunging neckline choker tank top. "Must be," I said, trying to act like this was a totally normal conversation and I wasn't two inches from a breakdown. "Name's Silena."

"Simon," he said by way of greeting. "You been shown the orientation video?"

"They have an orientation video for this shitshow?" I asked.

He shrugged, neither fazed nor amused by my language. "Supposedly, though I've heard it's outdated. But you've been given the speech, then?"

A highly abbreviated version, I suspected, but still I nodded. "Duh," I said, vaguely gesturing around me, but for what purpose, I didn't know.

Simon nodded. "Good. Claimed?"

"Claimed?"

"Do you know who your godly parent is?"

"Oh," I said, waving him off. "My parents aren't gods. They're demigods."

His eyebrows raised slightly. "I understand those are rare among the Greeks. Good to see that's changing. Who are you descended from, then?"

I let out a breathy chuckle and tried to run a hand through my tangled hair. "I kind of jumped out the window before they got that far into the explanation. 'Gods are real' kinda bugged me out and sitting still isn't really my forte."

"ADHD, I suppose?"

I frowned. "How'd you know?"

"Common demigod symptom. It's our built in battle reflexes. You probably got it from your parents. Dyslexia is also common since our minds are wired for ancient languages."

Both of my parents were ADHD with dyslexia. Luckily I had dodged the second one. "Makes sense." A moment of silence settled over us and I nervously tried to run my hands through my hair again and got my fingers caught in tangles. "Forgive the appearance. I don't usually look like party trash."

His eyes casted down and his lips pursed in a way that was meant to be a smile but dripped patronization. "Looks like you had a fun night. And on a thursday, too."

"Dude's parents were out of town. Kids take advantage of that when they can. Besides, half of my crawled-out-of-a-ditch look is because of the monsters that attacked me also, by the way. Two different ones."

He wasn't as impressed or concerned as I hoped. "Heard the minotaur made quite a mess of Half Blood Hill. It's a good thing the Hunters found you."

He didn't know what he was saying, couldn't know what I heard. It's a good thing the Hunters found you. Otherwise you'd have been taken with your parents. Or maybe you could have helped them. Maybe they would have been fine. Maybe if you were with them you all would have lasted until the Hunters found you all. Maybe if you weren't such a screw up...

My throat suddenly got tight as I remembered the last conversation with my parents. The last things I said. If I'm such a disappointment then just leave me behind when you disappear to another state. That's what you do with everything else in your life you have no need for.

"You have no idea." My throat burned but my voice was steady and my eyes were dry. Simon, however, seemed to study me further. I looked away and changed the subject. "What about you?" I asked.

"What?"

"Who's your godly… whatever."

"Oh." He stood up a little straighter, if that was possible. I have expected to hear his spine snap like a twig. "Mars. Roman god of war."

"Roman," I repeated. "Cause those are real too. Of course."

"Ran out before that part of the explanation too, I suppose?"

I glared, wanting to argue, but unable. "Technically, yeah," I conceded. "But I'm not exactly surprised."

He cracked, a bit of a breathy chuckle, even out of disbelief. But even in that half second he seemed more human. "Really?"

I held my arms outward for a moment before letting them fall back to my side. "It's kind of crazy to be here. I mean, not just the standard brand of gods-are-real craziness but… My parents always told me about camp. I mean, I didn't know it was real, I didn't know any of this was real, but they'd tell me Greek myths as bedtime stories." I looked back at Simon and I had his complete attention. It was almost unnerving. "Sometimes they'd tell me these stories of modern day heroes. They told me about Camp halfblood and Camp Jupiter, that is the name of the Roman camp, right?"

"Yeah. It is. What sort of stories would they tell you?"

I rolled my eyes. "The most ridiculous, outlandish tales. I mean, a war in Manhattan? That no one noticed?"

Simon frowned. "The battle of Manhattan? The war against Kronos? That war?"

I straightened up in surprise. "Where everyone fell asleep?"

"To quote the First Great Prophecy, And see the world in endless sleep. Obviously that was before my time and before even the two camps knew about each other but…" Simon shrugged, "Everything Percy Jackson did is legend now. Even to Romans."

All the air left my lungs while my brain did a record scratch. Everything Percy Jackson did is legend now. That sentence didn't compute. "I'm sorry," I said, my eyes briefly closed as my mind reset. "What did you say?"

"The battle of Manhattan was this whole thing," he began explaining. "A prophecy about—"

"A son of Poseidon, yeah," I shook my head, "I was told that but—"

"Of course they didn't always know it'd be the son of Poseidon, there were a couple other Big Three children in the mix for awhile. And even Percy Jackson wouldn't have survived everything he did without Annabeth Chase, a daughter of Athena."

"Stop." I said with my eyes closed. "Just. No. You're wrong."

When I opened my eyes, Simon had taken another step towards me and was scanning me, as if looking for an injury. "Are you okay?"

"The son of Poseidon and the daughter of Athena. That's who my parents told me about."

Simon nodded, but his concern didn't recede. "Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase."

I was on the verge of hyperventilating. "Stop saying their names like that."

He approached me like one would a wounded animal. "What do you mean? Silena what's wrong?"

My dad always called me his little dolphin. It's the smartest sea creature out there, he'd explain, as if that made total sense. As a marine biologist, I just figured he was obsessed with the ocean.

The son of Poseidon and the daughter of Athena.

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.

"You never got my last name," I whispered.

"What?"

"My last name," I said louder, turning to face Simon, "is Jackson. My parents' names are Annabeth and Percy Jackson."