I'm back, and I brought you chapter four! Yeah!

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FRANK

I opened my eyes, my head rolling. I felt my claws slowly melt back into dull fingers, my epic fangs reduced back into human teeth. My fur melted back into skin, my hair growing shorter and darker until it was again ebony and buzzed cut.

I rolled over and slowly released a groan. I had an increasing headache, as if my grandmother had given me another lecture.

What had happened, and where were my friends?

I heard gasps, and I struggled to get myself up, as if the poisonous gas was still effecting my consciousness, and stared towards the figure in which I had originally mistake as my friends. But, instead, I faced a band of strangers. With wings.

This could have only meant two things, I was either hallucinating, or I was dead. I was hoping it was option number one.

The first girl was tall, perhaps fifteen, who had hair with blonde streaks that glowed in the sun. She radiated power and strength, both physical and mental, and I had no doubt in my mind that she was the leader of this…flock? Her wings were only half folded on her back were colored a light, cozy brown, with beautiful patches of spots that assembled randomly on them.

Behind her were six more bird children. One was blonde, blue eyed and strong, which reminded me of Jason. His wings were pure white, like a freshly washed sheet drifting on a line. Another had paling skin with semi-long black hair. His wings were a deep, ominous black, like a starless midnight. A reddish blonde who had graying eyes was staring into nothingness, standing closely next to yet another blonde boy who was much smaller. An African-American with deep cocoa wings and huge brown eyes stood next to the smallest of the group, a little girl about seven. Despite their different appearances, they each had shared the same expression-astonishment.

Suddenly, the leader of the group stepped forward, her mouth twisting in disgust. "So, this is how you get your sick kicks?" she asked, hatred burning in her eyes.

Huh?

"Don't play dumb for me kid. We all know what your doing here with your ship full of brainwashed mutants. We all know you were looking for us for your inhuman experiments! What were you going to do this time? Maybe dissect us, chop off our wings, and kill Fang for his DNA? Hmm?"

She was shaking with rage, her face dying itself a deep crimson. Her fist were balled up so tight, the skin around her knuckles had gone a ghostly pale.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking-" I stuttered.

"Of course you don't, you all don't! How dare you hurt other mutants when you're one yourself!" she spouted, her voice rising.

"Hey," I protested, "I've been called a lot of things in my life, but a mutant? That's new. I believe the correct term is demigod." Sarcasm always seemed to get Percy and Leo out of situations, right?

The girl was almost purple when she gave a cold laugh. "Yeah right, demigod. Son of a god, really? Somebody's got ego issues…"

"No, seriously!" I began, "I am a demigod, and there were others! They were all on the ship with me, and then we were attacked, and everything went black and…" To this day I don't know why I started rambling like an idiot. Maybe it was because I was that close to getting my face pounded in.

"Oh, things are going to go black all right." She said between her teeth, before lurching forward, ready to strike a punch.

I was just about to transform into a butterfly or something manly like that and escape, not wanting to hurt her, when a small voice rose up above the chaos. "Max, STOP! He's telling the truth!"

She stopped in midair, giving me a chance to actually get up. She glared back at the smallest girl, who looked at her with determination.

"Angel," she questioned, "how can he be a demigod? That's impossible!"

"But, he is a demigod. The shape shifting gift, that's from the gods." Angel said, "Besides, it's not like kids with wings are that much more plausible."

I was officially scared. How did Angel, the seven-year-old, know who I was and about the gods? Stalker alert!

"How in the world-" I started

"…Do I know all these things? I can read minds." Angel said matter-of-factly.

Of course! Silly me. It should have been so obvious that she could read minds. Duh!

Max contemplated this before finally relaxing. They entire flock was still staring at me, expecting me to offer clarification.

I cleared my throat. "It is true. I am the son of Mars, Roman god of war. I traveled along with the other seven demigods last year and defeated the Titan Gaea, who wanted to destroy the world."

The group glanced at Angel, who nodded, her face pale. No wonder. Gaea was pretty horrifying.

"So, wait a second, you mean like, the Earth?" The-Jason-look-alike questioned.

I shook my head, "Yes and No. Yes in a way that she was the earth goddess, but no because she was, well, evil."

"Mother Earth, evil?" The apparent blind kid asked.

"Oh, yes. She wanted to sacrifice two of my best friends to have the opportunity to rise from her eternal slumber. That's usually not a good sign."

A flicker of a smile played across his lips.

"I'm not sure I believe you." The black hair kid said, whom I later learned was named Fang.

Angel looked like she was about to launch into an entire speech in my favor, but I managed to hold my own weight this time. It was, after all, a bit embarrassing having a seven-year-old stand up in your favor.

"Don't your remember, about a month ago, those enormous earthquakes that destroyed half of Greece?"

"I remember! It was on the T.V for about a week! Monuments were totally destroyed! There was smoke, and fires, and, and…" One of the girls squealed.

"Nudge!" The flock screamed, and Nudge quieted.

"So," Max began,"that was all created by gee-uh, guy-uh whatchamacallit?" she asked skeptically.

I shook my head in a fluid up and down movement, and I launched into my speech, not leaving out any detail about being a demigod. For some odd reason, I felt I could trust them. Despite Max being lethal, she was a very good listener, which is probably why she was the leader. By the time I was finished with my lecture, the entire flock, even the motor mouth, were stunned into silence.

"It's true." Angel muttered.

"I'm not sure I've actually warming up on the idea of Greek and Roman gods being real." Max called out.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," I replied, "people with wings aren't exactly that possible either."

Max smiled slyly. "Well, I'm no daughter of a goddess. These puppies," she extended her beautiful wings, " these are from a lab experiment."

That's when we traded stories. I listened, my heart pounding faster and faster. Raised in a dog crate? Eating desert rats? I couldn't imagine what it would be like for them.

When she was finished, it was my turn to look like I ran into a ghost. (And no, I was not ripping on Nico di Angelo)

"We came out here because we heard someone was in trouble." Max said, "Was it you?"

My expression must have been priceless, because Angel added; " I can heard thoughts over a long distance."

That's right! It all rushed passed me now, the storm, my friends screaming, then it all going silent. Oh my gods, where were my friends!

"Frank," Angel said slowly, "when we got here, all that was left was a battle scene, and fallen invaders. Obviously, they were mutants, because they had no thoughts. But, I think they were just the leftovers of the battle. Frank…I think." Her voice trailed, and the flock shared the same expression-pity.

I added two and two together. The generated storm, apparent mutants, my AWOL friends, the flock's story…

"No." I protested.

I pushed past them and made my way to the deck, still lost in denial. No, not my friends, I thought, not Hazel.

The deck did look like a battlefield in the ruins. After being ambushed, I assumed that everybody had taken the battle on to the deck, so they couldn't reach the control room and steal the Argo ll, although I'm sure that the intruders wouldn't even know how to even steer the ship anyway. Something caught my eye, and I reached down to capture it. It was Annabeth's dagger.

I started into, and my miserable face stared back. The image was twisted and corrupted slightly as it bent over every dent the dagger had. But, it was still me, my eyes of the verge of spilling.

"Frank, I think your friends were captured by the School." Max spoke, her soft voice fragile.

"What did they look like?" I asked.

"What?" Max answered.

"The captures. What did they look like?" I asked, my eyes still glued to the dagger.

"They looked," Dylan said, finally speaking, "like that."

I turned my head just in time to see a girl in a black leather suit lunge for the ledge.

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