I'm here! Bummed that we didn't get any real snow. Oh, and I decided that everyone's POV except for Percy's is going to be in 3rd from now on. My beta, Astoria Goode, had been urging me to for a while, and I finally decided she was right after read Travis Jameson's review. To me, he has written the best SoN story on the site. Check him out!
Chapter 4
Did "doing as the Romans do" include taking a ten hour nap? Because I really didn't want to. The sun had just dipped below the hills surrounding us, plunging the whole house into darkness. The only thing that lit the warren-like halls were candles. "Welcome to domus et Mercury. Go straight to bed and talk to no one." Reyna held my gaze until I'd built up enough guilt to nod my head.
I was alone in a spartan room. I had a basic cot. A roof. That was about it. My roommates got the deluxe package with actual beds and people. My feeling of isolation escalated in the dark. I really wanted a memory of another time to dive into, but I didn't even have that comfort.
I knew Lupa would kill me painfully, ripping my muscle from my bones while probably drooling and licking her lips, but I wanted out of here. I couldn't repeat that enough. I clung to the thought desperately since I couldn't remember much else. Getting out would be my goal, my life boat here as I drowned in the rules, regulations and violence of life here.
To quickly sum up my day so far: it really sucked.
Have no memory? Check.
Wake up in creepy ruins? Double check.
Forced by a talking wolf to a psychotic Roman camp? Triple check.
But that (randomly) lead me to another train of thought. Remembering my own family was beyond me, but the fact that the gods of ancient Greece-er, Rome-were still around and kicking was easy to recall. Of course, I couldn't even do that right. When I'd corrected Reyna, saying Hermes, not Mercury, she gave me a look like I'd sprouted a second head.
I was starting to feel like I had.
Studying the necklace was something I really wanted to do, but I remembered Lupa warning me to conceal it or else I'd be baked alive or something even worse. I figured she didn't give out (gruesome) freebies like that often and heeded her word. Maybe it was paranoid, but I wouldn't put it past Reyna to have someone spying on me, making sure I'd followed orders.
And that pen was important too. Not just because it was blue...but because...? Well, because something. One of the million somethings in the world. I constantly checked to make sure it hadn't disappeared in the past five minutes of heavy musing.
Maybe the pen would somehow be useful during tomorrow's initiation? Yeah, my mind snarked, if it's a magical A+ pen and I have to ace a written test. I nearly groaned aloud. One thing I remembered clearly was my dismal relationship with school work and reading in general.
Still, I made sure not to lose it.
Lupa gave away nothing about my upcoming trial and Reyna was just as tight-lipped. I hoped she would loosen up. She seemed like she could be a fun person to chat with if she was so serious all the time. That level of negative-zero humor couldn't be good for her health.
Clang!
The sound of metal resounding off wood had me instinctively grabbing my pen and quickly shaking off any drowsiness. I leapt from my cot, surprisingly agile, landing lightly in a semi-crouch, alert and ready to run my sword through the intruder.
I peeled my eyes. The room wasn't very big, practically a glorified closet. It was easy to check the two possible entrances.
The door would have creaked...so they came from the sole window. Following instinct, I uncapped my pen, revealing an awesome sword made of celestial bronze. It was weighted perfectly, and felt comfortable in my hands. Like an old friend returned to me. Riptide, it sung.
A flash of a girl, dark haired and solemn with royal looks, and then the image flitted away.
Strange. I shook it off-I could contemplate it later. The glow my sword cast revealed a shadowed figure, roughly five feet away.
"I come in peace!" she exclaimed.
The girl was around Reyna's age, but I immediately took a greater liking to her. I don't know if it was her red-orange hair that flickered like a fire, or the friendly vibe I got from her, but she was different enough that I forgave her for breaking in. Something just told me she was trustworthy.
"Who are you?" I said, gradually lowering my sword. I could now see that she was barefoot and only in thin green night clothes, unarmed.
She stepped forward and squinted from the glare of my weapon. She offered me her hand, "I'm Gwendolyn, daughter of Bacchus. Known as the Mad Witch around here," she said bitterly, "but you can call me Gwen."
((()))
Lupa pace back and forth in the woods; contrary to popular belief, she didn't actually reside in her cave. She would make herself available there in the day for the convenience of her campers, but come sunset she came to be with her other pack. They danced around the sacred grounds of the ruins.
Rumors were spread that especially loyal and savage campers earned a special reward from Lupa. To eternally be a wolf at her side was what they were offered. To hunt down monsters as they had in life and avoid the bane of death and the boredom of the underworld was too great a temptation for some.
Unlike the Lady Diana and her attendants, Lupa held no stipulations; her only terms were to continue to be her tools and spies loyally as they had as humans. Howling, they greeted her with excitement. Only at night would they be united again with their mistress under the soft light of the silver moon.
Ignoring the yips and whines, she growled warningly. Tonight was a night not of revelry, but of seriousness. Lupa needed to think. The wolves understood her violent moods and how they swung from one end to the other on a whim, and were content to bask in her presence in silence.
The pack picked up on her underlying nervousness, and grew alert and tense themselves. What was the threat? Who dare to upset the Supreme Alpha? The threat would be eliminated!
The gods! She snarled finally, I do not understand the game they play!
First, Jupiter had closed the heavens to them. No Iris messages would get through to Olympus. The only deities to slip through the gates were Apollo and Diana, to guide the sun and the moon through the sky. Celebrations over their victory, feasts in their honor should be happening, not apathy.
And now this Percy Jackson had appeared, the oldest demigod to be admitted, after Jason Grace, the first since Remus and Romulus to suckle from her, disappeared.
Briny and salty like the sea, his scent gave him away as one of Neptune's brood. But the stink of the underworld also clung to him, barely discernable. Other scents-of Pegasi, owls and books, mingled in with his scent, suggesting he kept the company of one of Minerva's descent.
But something was also wrong, different. He had compelled her to appear in her Greek form, and he even understood when she spoke the language of the Greeks to him. Lupa could only come to one logical conclusion.
Percy Jackson was Greek, not Roman, and most certainly did not belong here.
His clothing and necklace also identified him as one of Chiron's soft campers, but she had at first dismissed the evidence. It wouldn't be hard for a god to plant that evidence. Unfortunately, his scent and actions spoke otherwise, and couldn't lie.
Did she kill him? He could be a spy-he claimed to have no memory, but a dip in the Lethe could explain that, and his underworld stench. But why would Chiron erase the memory of such a (presumable) powerhouse? A son or daughter of one of the minor gods wouldn't be missed and could accomplish the same feat.
Lupa felt uneasy about the notion of a plot. That horse wasn't an oath breaker, and wouldn't know deceit if it flirted with him.
She came back to her original conclusion-an Olympian conspiracy.
A bid for power? Any sort of remote contact between the camps (which came about because of this son of Poseidon) would be insanity and lead to many, many deaths. Lupa loved bloodshed, but even she didn't want to see all of her pack dead, body parts littered across the ground.
Greeks were soft, but weren't entirely hopeless. They were still the children of Gods and Goddesses and divine blood was to be respected.
All night she would contemplate her problems.
((()))
Percy Jackson didn't seem reassured when Gwen introduced herself. She guessed telling him people called the redhead "Mad Witch" behind her back didn't give the best first impression. But she could work around that. He would quickly learn she was his best be here at camp. Percy did lower his weapon a fraction though, so a point in her favor.
"Why are you here?" He said bluntly. Okay, good Gwen could work with that. She didn't mince my words either.
"I don't want you to die tomorrow. This camp is suffocating me lately and I need someone who isn't brainwashed to talk to."
Ok, maybe "brainwashed" was coming on a little strongly. But lately things had become unbearable-even Reyna was becoming a jerk. Her own way of dealing with her feelings about Jason's absence. Gwen saw suspicion and then relief flicker on his face before settling onto a neutral mask. He was far too open for this place.
Percy sighed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'm starting to think Lupa is going to throw me into the lions pit."
"We don't have any lions here," she answered seriously, "But she might feed you to her wolves.
"Well that makes me feel loads better," he said, putting away his sword, plunging us into darkness. "Any other pieces of advice?"
This time Gwen caught the sarcasm coloring his tone. "Look it's not like they have handbooks for this Percy. Just make sure you're prepared for anything. Most likely you'll have to survive some type of combat. Make your opponent bleed a lot, the crowd likes things like that." Sbe recited, remembering her first time in the gladiatorial arena. She didn't remember the transgression, only the resulting punishment.
Fighting a cyclops when you're eleven and just had your first period isn't fun.
Gwen had also discovered her ability to drive opponents' crazy, so she guessed it wasn't all bad.
Oh wait, Percy was talking again. Her drowsiness was making it hard to focus. "Right. Make it nice and bloody. I'm guessing don't die is next."
"I thought you could've figured that out yourself, new guy." Gwen forced herself to smile and not be annoyed. She was always giving Reyna a hard time about being such a hard ass, but Gwen guessed she didn't notice her own zero tolerance for humor that had developed. Running drills and sieges everyday could do that to a girl.
He yawned, bringing her own sleepiness rushing to the front. "It was, um, nice meeting you, Gwen. But do you think next time you could bring me some blue soda. It's part of being the wine-guy's daughter, right?"
"I don't do requests. Sorry. Good night and good luck, new guy, I hope you don't die."
Gwen escaped back out of his window, but this time she was fighting to keep the smile off her face. Gwen knew it was his exhaustion talking and incredibly cheesy, but she found it oddly cute.
((()))
The shadows drew closer to him, eager to greet their Prince, who was much kinder than their lord, visiting a lot more. His lip twitched as he tried to contain his laughter. Warping to new locations via shadow travel was tiring as hell, but a lot easier than going the same distance physically. It also tickled, but Nico admitted that to no one.
Well, he might ask Percy if the water had a similar effect on him. It was his cousin's element, and surely it tickled him because of that very reason because that would mean Nico di Angelo was not ticklish. If anyone found out...Annabeth and Thalia morphed into hideous monsters with evil grins, as they chased him down threatening to tickle him to death.
He shuddered and focused on his destination: Camp Half Blood, in Montuak, New York. Being specific was important. One time he was really hungry and dazed and confused as a consequence, and thought "let's get some Chinese at New York" and ended up in China. On the plus side, his chow mien was authentic.
The darkness hugged him closer and he let himself fall into its tender embrace. Stark cold. Falling. And then zero sensation as he crossed through the deeper reaches of the underworld, and emerging in the Montuak cemetery. Warping to a place under death's jurisdiction was far less draining. The gravestones were actually clean, at least from his vantage point. It was nice that the dead hadn't been forgotten here.
One double scoop of chocolate ice cream, a conversation with a confused ghost, and one really lost pizza delivery guy later brought him to camp.
Immediately, Nico knew something was up. Had someone died? That might explain the somber mood. His father's palace was less depressing and tear-inducing. Nico scanned the grounds for Annabeth or Percy, the only people he really considered "family" aside from his sister and father. Deciding to try the Athena cabin first, he snuck around quietly and peered inside the window, feeling a bit like a stalker or peeping tom.
The lights were off and only the moonlight illuminated the room-well, what made it past the thick clouds. It was hard to tell what was going on inside. Were they asleep? Awake and holding a secret strategy powwow? Nico knew little of the inner workings of the Athena cabin.
"Annabeth isn't in there." He jumped and turned around to see the tired face of Rachel Elizabeth Dare.
She continued on, as if Nico wasn't spying on fellow campers. "It's good that you're here now. You need to be informed."
"Informed? I already know we've been cut off from the gods." Rachel shook her head and grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the Big House. He quickly got over his surprise that she was holding his hand. Her unusually worried expression was what did it.
"You need to see Chiron, I might not be able to explain all of this right."
((()))
Ok, so here it is guys! For those interested, yes the next chapter is Percy's test. Did anyone have a favorite scene or line? Anything I could improve on?
2/4/11