Chapter Three
"Eh, wake up, kid," Daphne felt someone nudge her arm.
"Huh?" she sat up, bleary eyed and not focused at all.
"Name's Aaron," the blonde goat-man smiled.
"Ow… My head feels like an elephant sat on it…" Aaron chuckled quietly.
"Pretty close. The cyclops threw you against the metal wall of the train. You probably have a concussion and a broken rib, but other than that, you're fine." Daphne noticed her upper abdomen on the right side felt really odd.
"Oh? Then I must be Wonder Woman…" She winced. Aaron blinked.
"Who?"
"Ah, nevermind. It was a joke. I'm Daphne. Daphne VanOwen." Daphne held out her hand and attempted to sit up. Her broken rib didn't like that thought, and she went sprawling back onto her back, winded.
"Woah, easy there, wolf." Daphne winced.
"Isn't the expression, 'easy there, tiger'? Aaron laughed.
"Yeah, but you obviously like wolves. There's a tattoo of one on your ankle." It was Daphne's turn to laugh.
"Uh, no, there isn't. I've never gotten a tattoo." Aaron's face morphed into a look of confusion.
"Well, it's there, in natural colors no less, on the inside of your right ankle."
"I'm telling you, I've never gotten ink. My French father hates tattoos." Aaron rubbed his cheek with a sigh.
"Maybe it's a birthmark, then? It is neutral colored, like flesh."
"Maybe. Though I've never noticed it before."
"Ah, well, I guess we can worry about it later. So, who is your parent?" Aaron asked innocently.
"I don't want to tell you. He'd be mad at me if I got caught after running away…"
"So, he's a God, huh?"
"I guess you could say that." Daphne rubbed the back of her head in pain.
"Well, he can't be a Goddess." Daphne winced again as her fingers hit a bump on the nape of her neck.
"Why do you keep comparing my father to Greek Gods?"
"Everyone has a godly parent. One of my good friend's father is Apollo. Another friend of mine's mother is Iris. How cool is that? You know, Apollo and Iris would make a good couple, don't you think, Daphn-"
"Wait, Gods and Goddesses are real?" Daphne cut him off. He answered with another question.
"Daph, when is your birthday?"
"July tenth, 1998. Answer my question."
"You're sixteen? Her question was ignored again.
"Yes. Answer my question!"
"Yes. Who is your father? Your mother?"
"Connor VanOwen. I don't know my mother. She left my dad when I was six. I have no memory of her though. She didn't intentionally abandon me."
"Can you take that arm bracelet off?"
"No. It's fused to my skin."
"Sarcasm?"
"No. It's seriously fused."
"Oh."
"Do you know who my mom is?"
"No. I do know that she's probably a goddess though." He finally noticed her suitcase. "What all did you bring and where ya headed?"
"Go ahead and look," she tossed the black bag to him, "New York. I'm getting the feeling that I'm supposed to be there."
"Ah, I can take you to Camp Half-Blood. It's for Greek demigods."
"Sure. As long as it's far, far away from Pennsylvania. I hate it here."
"Why?"
"I've lived here my entire life, without my mom. It's tiring to watch my father snuggle up to that she-demon who treats me like garbage. It's obvious that I'm not her kid, and even though he is my father, I look nothing like him. He has light blond hair and green eyes. I've been asked several times, by various people, if I was adopted." Daphne shrugged and looked down.
Aaron pulled the picture of Daphne and Connor out of the black suitcase.
"That your dad?" he grunted, lifting the picture up gently.
"Mhm…" Daphne glanced at her ankle in mild curiosity. "I just see a flesh-colored blob on my ankle…"
"Must be the Mist."
"The what?"
"The Mist. It distracts mortals and makes them see something more acceptable than what demigods see."
"But I'm a demigod, and it's my body, so why can't I see it?"
"Maybe it's manipulated Mist, controlled by the Gods so that you can't see it?" Daphne shook her head.
"I haven't even met any of the Gods yet, and I'm already dreading it!"
Aaron looked at her, a seriousness reflecting in his eyes that was rarely ever seen in the satyr's facials.
"You should hope to high Tartarus that you will never have to speak, let alone see or meet the Gods!" Daphne's head snapped up, her ankle immediately forgotten.
"What? Why not?"
"A visit from the Gods usually means eminent danger. You shouldn't ever go looking for the-"
A figure appeared behind Aaron and gave him a generous wallop on the back of the head.
"Ow!" Aaron proclaimed, followed by a steady stream of curses, but that was also cut off by the deep voice.
"You shouldn't be so lenient with your accusatory words toward the Gods. They won't be happy about your calling them tyrants." Aaron jumped in his seat, but didn't turn around.
"To what do I owe a Death Demigod?" His voice was wary.
"Aw, you don't owe me anything, Aaron. Just introduce me to your friend here."
"Why?" There was an edge in his voice.
"Well, we all know that she almost die-" He cut himself off at Daphne's stunned expression.
Aaron's eyes were wide, and he was shaking his head 'no' frantically.
"It's too late now." The Death Demigod raked his pale hand through the dark locks that were neatly piled on top of his head. "You're Daphne VanOwen, right?"
Daphne nodded and shook the other Demigod's hand when he held it out. "Nico DiAngelo. Son of Pluto, the Roman version of Hades." Daphne looked at him in confusion, before turning to Aaron.
"I thought that it was a place for Greek demigods?" Aaron nodded.
"Nico travels between the two camps. Camp Jupiter is for Roman demigods." Suddenly, Aaron glanced at Nico and took a sharp breath. "Do you know where we're at?"
Nico's glare made Daphne shift in her seat uncomfortably. "Hazel's gift is of the ground, mine is of the dead, but I'd say that we're in the northern part of Pennsylvania."
"Speaking of your gift, why're you here?" Daphne trained her unnervingly dark, sapphire eyes on Nico. He blinked a few times before stuttering;
"W-well… You almost died, Daphne…"
"I what?!" Nico nodded fiercely.
"You were almost dead, an NDE." Daphne shook her head in wonderment. This was going to be a loooooong day...
