Chapter 4: The Oracle Gives Me A Hint

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With Chiron back, the camp was gearing up for summer. In a few days, the buses would arrive, bringing our regular campers back. The cabins—excepting the four that were pretty much honorary—would be filled again as our numbers tripled. The summer campfires would start up, and best of all, capture the flag. I was determined to win the first game of the summer to show Chiron just how ready I was for a quest.

The day before the summer campers were due to arrive, Chiron called a counsellors' meeting. I was surprised when Luke came to get Anita and me, saying that Chiron had specifically asked for us to be there, too.

We were the last to arrive. Six head counsellors were already gathered around the pool table in the recreation room of the Big House. Camp rules dictated that the position of counsellor passed on to the oldest remaining camper, unless someone with quest experience wanted to challenge for the position. Since no quests had been issued in the last two years, there weren't many of us who could claim that honour. So the counsellors were mainly older campers who'd been around at least two or three years. Luke was head counsellor for Hermes cabin, of course, and at nineteen, he was one of the oldest half-bloods still at camp. Clarisse was probably the youngest, at fourteen, and she had been newly appointed last fall when the previous Ares counsellor had left camp for good.

Only one cabin (aside from the four unoccupied ones) was unrepresented—my own—and I realised immediately why Chiron must have called for Anita, though I was still uncertain what I was doing here.

'Where's Ruthann?' Anita said. 'Is she coming with the buses?' The head counsellors who weren't year-rounders usually tried to get to camp earlier for the meeting, but perhaps our cabin leader had been delayed. I think we both hoped she had, though I guessed we sensed the truth.

'Ruthann's family moved to San Francisco last year,' Chiron said. Everyone winced. San Francisco was well known to be monster central—close to the entrance of the Underworld and the migrated seat of power for the gods' great (but fortunately defeated) enemies: the Titans. 'Unfortunately, she went with them, and—well, an Acromanthon found her there.'

Anita gasped. I shuddered involuntarily. Losing a camper to monsters was devastating enough; for a daughter of Athena to fall to a giant spider, our mortal enemy and greatest fear, was infinitely worse.

'This means, of course, that cabin six is in need of a new counsellor,' Chiron continued. 'Anita, as oldest member of cabin six—'

'I don't want it!' Tears streamed down Anita's face. She'd been quite tight with Ruthann, and the news had clearly shaken her. 'I never wanted to lead the cabin.'

'I was afraid you would feel that way, my dear, which is why I asked Annabeth to come, too. Annabeth, you've been asking me for more responsibility for a while now. I thought you could help Anita to carry out her duties as counsellor.'

'Chiron, she's only twelve,' Clarisse protested.

I stuck my chin out and opened my mouth to retort that she'd barely turned fourteen herself when she'd got her position. Luke beat me to it, though.

'She's also been here longer than you,' he said. His tone was mild, but his words were pointed. I threw him a grateful look. His returning smile gave me a warm glow inside.

'I want her help,' Anita said quickly. She turned her tear-streaked face to me. 'Please, Annabeth.' I knew she meant it. Anita was brainy and book-smart, but she hated being put in charge of anything.

'I think Annabeth is sufficiently familiar with the rhythm of things around here,' Chiron said pleasantly. 'And perhaps she will have the ability to take over in time. That is,' he looked at me, 'if you accept the position.'

'I do,' I said. My fingers drifted up to the five beads on my camp necklace: one for each summer of experience. I was glad Chiron had finally recognised that, but what did he mean, the ability to take over? Only a camper with a quest under their belt could challenge for the counsellor position.

My heart leapt.

'That's settled, then,' Chiron said with a nod. Clarisse muttered mutinously under her breath, but none of the other counsellors seemed perturbed.

'Moving on,' Chiron continued, 'I'm appointing Luke and Darinia camp leaders for this year. They'll be responsible for arranging cabin inspections and overseeing general discipline—along with Mr D and myself, of course—and if the rest of you need any help or advice, they're your senior counsellors to go to.

'Now, to duties—as you know, each cabin will lead a segment of the training activities. As counsellors, you will be in charge of scheduling and manning your respective stations. You may enlist your cabin mates to assist as instructors. Remember, we are all here to learn, and there is much you can learn from one another.'

He went around the table, checking off each cabin against a list of activity stations. Some of the cabins had their own natural specialties that they always oversaw, like the archers in Apollo and the Hephaestus kids at the forge. Others tended to rotate activities based on whatever their head counsellor excelled in. Luke, for example, was the best sword fighter Camp Half-Blood had seen in centuries, so ever since he'd become a counsellor, Hermes cabin had taken over fencing instruction. Ruthann's thing had been weaving—a natural talent of our mother's, but not one I had spent much time cultivating. I wasn't sure I could keep up with it.

'Cabin six … ah, I suppose you wouldn't be keen on continuing the weaving classes?'

Anita gave me a panicked look. She wasn't fantastic at weaving either. I said, 'Not really,' and racked my brains for something we could do instead. I thought of Malcolm Pace and the other campers who had been so interested in my storytelling, and an idea hit me. 'I could do an Ancient Greek class. You know, all the mythologies about the gods and goddesses, and the old heroes, too. Monsters are always reborn from the myths, right? It'd be important to know how they operate and the best way to outsmart them.'

I could hear Clarisse scoffing. Her idea of dealing with monsters was pretty much one size fit all: charge and destroy. Ares cabin was going to lead wrestling again.

'Yes, you're right,' Chiron said. 'I see you've been taking your reading seriously. Ancient Greek it is. I'm sure it will be enlightening.' He made a note against my cabin on his sheet. 'Can you make up a schedule and lesson plan for me by the end of tomorrow?' I nodded, and he moved on to Lee Fletcher from cabin seven.

'Thanks,' Anita mouthed at me.

Once Chiron had gotten the list of activities for each cabin, he dismissed us, but I lingered, hoping he'd say something to me when the others were gone. I waited until the last counsellor had left the room, and took the chair closest to him.

'Did you have a question, Annabeth? You should ask Luke or Darinia. Good practice for them.'

'No, sir—I mean, yes, I do have a question, but it's not about camp stuff.'

Chiron put down his notepad. 'Go on.'

'You said … earlier you said I might be able to take over as head counsellor. Did you mean, like, challenge for the position?'

'Well, I'm sure you'll be an excellent leader,' Chiron said. I waited for him to go on, but he didn't.

'I thought you might have said that because, um,' I bit my lip, 'you might have a quest for me.'

'I'm sorry to have got your hopes up,' Chiron said gently.

Disappointment crashed down on me. 'I thought for sure, with the summer solstice thing … and the theft …'

'How did you—never mind, I don't want to know how you've found out as much as you have. But it doesn't matter. The gods will have to resolve their own quarrel for once. It's not safe for a quest now. We're already losing too many.'

'But there is something going on? The gods want to issue a quest?'

'I talked them out of it,' Chiron said shortly. 'I reminded them we had no one who fit the bill.'

'What! That's not fair. I could do it, if you just told me—'

'Annabeth.' Chiron rubbed his forehead wearily, as though he was tired of rehashing this conversation. To be fair, we had revisited the subject plenty of times. It was just, nothing ever changed, even though it should have by now. 'It's nothing to do with you. The gods suspect … well, my job is to protect you. All of you.'

A jolt went up my spine, like a sudden burst of electricity. 'It's him, isn't it?' I said. 'The kid in the prophecy. Grover found him, and he's a son of Zeus. That's why he called you. That's why you went away.'

'Annabeth, this really isn't your business …'

'Please, Chiron, if it's the kid in the prophecy, I need to know!'

Chiron sighed. 'First off, you know I couldn't tell you if I did—it wouldn't be right for me to go about sharing details about another camper with you. If Grover brings him in—and I hope he won't have to yet—you'll have plenty of time to meet him and get to know him yourself. Secondly, I really don't know. I can't tell you for sure who his parent is. It's like with every new camper—he'll be undetermined until the gods claim him. And I have a feeling they may not be so quick to do so at the moment.'

'Why? Because they're fighting? But if they want his help, they'll claim him, won't they? And I could help him, if he gets a quest!'

'Look, even if Grover's kid fits the bill, he's still very young. You're still very young, for that matter. We have to train him up. Perhaps in a year or two—'

'A year? But what about the summer solstice deadline?'

'It doesn't matter. I will keep you safe as long as it is within my power to do so. I would very much like to see you grow up, my dear.'

I didn't answer him. It wasn't fair. I wasn't too young. I nearly stamped my foot in frustration. Well, fine. If Chiron wouldn't set me up with this kid and a quest, I'd catch Grover when he got back and find out everything he knew about the boy, and the summer solstice, and …

'And I don't want to catch you talking about this to anyone,' Chiron warned.

Hades! I didn't look at him as I stomped out of the recreation room, letting the door bang shut behind me. Clarisse and a few of her buddies were hanging around near the back porch. A few snatches of their conversation carried over: Chiron's pet … like a spoilt little princess …

I almost snorted with derision. As if.

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I stayed mad for the rest of the day. We were supposed to make sure our cabins were ready for the summer campers, but there wasn't much to do for cabin six. Athena's children all tend to be fairly orderly. Anita and I cleaned out Ruthann's bunk, and that was depressing enough to dull my anger, but only a little. She hadn't left that much behind since her last visit at winter break: a couple of t-shirts and shorts, a piece of rainbow-coloured cloth that was frayed at the edges, and, pinned to the wall over her bunk, a large crow feather about the size of my head. Ruthann was one of the last campers to have a quest, the year before Luke. She'd had to free a sacred crow from some trap—I didn't remember the details, although the story had been fascinating back then. I thought the feather was a token of thanks.

Anita packed up the old clothes and said she'd take care of them, but she looked dubiously at the feather. She said, 'It should probably go with the other old quest trophies in the attic. Could you—?'

I nodded and took the feather, but left it on my pillow. I'd bring it up to the Big House later; I wasn't in the mood to go back right now. Then I took my bronze knife and stalked out to the archery range. It was empty, since the Apollo kids who usually practised there in their free time were still at their cabins. I glared at one of the targets, took careful aim, and let my knife fly.

It sank into the bulls-eye, or at least I thought it did, until I jogged over to retrieve it and saw I was actually an inch off. I returned to my starting position to go again.

I pictured monsters, snarling and ugly, standing between me and my goals. It was figurative, of course, but I needed something to fight. I hurled my knife again; a hit like before, but this time my aim was even more off. So I kept at it. I sank my knife into hundreds of imaginary demons: gorgons and drakons and giants (but no spiders; even mental pictures of those terrified me).

I kept at this for hours, until the shadows of the trees were starting to grow long and my knife was starting to grow hot in my hand. A rustling from the bushes caught my attention immediately. I turned warily, knife at the ready. An over-reaction, maybe, since it was probably just a dryad or something; no one who wasn't meant to be here could pass the magical boundaries without permission from one of us. But I'd been battling pretend monsters all afternoon, so my mind was still alert for threats.

A sandy head popped up out of the brush. 'You're not going to throw that at me, are you?'

I lowered my knife. 'Luke! Where did you come from?'

'Oh, you know, just the forest,' he said vaguely. 'I was scouting. Preparing for capture the flag and all. You're gonna be on my team this year, aren't you?'

My dark mood, already mellowed after an afternoon slaying imaginary monsters, lifted more. 'I hope so,' I said. 'I've, um, got some good strategies.' This wasn't precisely true—I hadn't spared a great deal of thought for capture the flag yet, but I was confident that I'd be able to come up with a foolproof battle strategy once I focused on it.

'We'll make an alliance, then,' Luke said. 'I'd best be on my way. See you later.'

I watched him stroll up the beaten path towards the main camp for a while. Then I turned my attention calmly back to the target, not really seeing anything in particular. I took aim and hurled.

This time, I scored a perfect bulls eye.

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When I finally left the archery range, the sun was almost beyond the horizon and Chiron was blowing the conch horn for dinner. I hurried to join my cabin mates—four of us who had wintered at camp, anyway—nothing that once summer session was properly begun, it would be Anita and my job to lead them in.

At the end of the meal, Chiron banged his front hoof on a rock for attention.

'Campers, we will be beginning our summer session shortly,' he said. 'I would like to remind you all that your friends will be arriving tomorrow, so if you haven't already, I would advise you ensure that your living quarters are ready for them.' He looked significantly between the Ares and Aphrodite tables when he said this. 'As in previous years, we will leave you all to settle in and summer camp will begin properly the day after tomorrow. I hope everyone is excited!'

A loud cheer started at the Ares table and went round the pavilion. Someone from Hermes wolf-whistled.

'On that note, I am pleased to announce your camp leaders for this summer—Luke and Darinia.' There was an outburst of cheers and applause, loudest at the Hermes and Demeter tables. 'Most of your cabin counsellors you already know, but for Athena cabin, Anita Hawthorne and Annabeth Chase will be taking over as co-counsellors.'

The clapping was a bit more muted, since the circumstances surrounding our promotion weren't exactly festive. I felt slightly guilty as well. Having been at the archery range all afternoon, I'd left Anita to handle breaking the bad news about Ruthann.

'Activity schedules will be posted at the Big House on Tuesday morning. Your counsellors will also be passing them around then. And that's all for now. Dismissed!'

'We're going to have a funeral pyre for Ruthann, right?' Arthur said on the walk back to the cabins.

'We haven't—well, we have to get Chrion's okay, I think,' Anita said uncertainly. She looked to me for back up.

'Um, yeah, we'll ask Chiron,' I said. It hadn't really crossed my mind. Stuff like this had always been organised by someone else—by Ruthann. I realised Anita did know how much more the job held than arranging duties and chores. Counsellors were supposed to actually take charge, take care of all the kids in the cabin and their needs. Earlier, I'd been so confident and proud that Chiron and Anita wanted my help, but already I was failing. Little knives of guilt stabbed at me. I guess I really didn't have any grounds to be mad at Chiron for treating me like a child. 'I'll ask Chiron,' I amended.

'We need a shroud,' Arthur said.

Anita winced. 'Ruthann could have made the most beautiful shroud.' She sounded like she was going to start crying again.

I nodded. 'Celia's good at weaving, too,' I said, running through the other members of our cabin in my head. 'When everyone is back, we'll get it sorted.'

'Why do we need a shroud?' Malcolm asked. 'There's no—well, we don't have her, um, body …'

We reached the cabin then and my eyes went immediately to my pillow, where Ruthann's raven feather lay. I had completely forgotten about it. I figured I might as well bring it over to the attic at the Big House now, before something else came up to distract me. I grabbed it and left the cabin, leaving Arthur and Anita to explain our funeral traditions to Malcolm.

As I traipsed across the lawns, I noticed that the sky was unnaturally dark, as though the light of the stars was failing to filter down. I realised it was because of a pool of inky clouds that were forming an ominous ring over the far slope of Half-Blood Hill. More weird weather. It seemed to be skirting the camp, but it cast a shadow over us nonetheless. A low rumble echoed over the hills, but no flash of lightning accompanied it.

Seeing the skies hanging so threateningly over Thalia's tree made me uneasy. It had looked exactly like this the day I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood: grim and unforgiving, with the howling wind whipping and snatching at us like the Furies we'd been trying to outrun. I almost fancied I could hear the enraged howl of a savage beast.

I hurried on. Those weren't memories I cared to relive.

I heard the low murmur of conversation when I passed Chiron's apartment in the Big House. He was probably sending an Iris message or two. I climbed the four flights of stairs to reach the attic trapdoor. It was the storage place for all the artefacts campers had left behind, including spoils of war that had been discarded. I'd only been here once, though it hadn't been to stow stuff.

The attic was also where the Oracle of Delphi lived.

She wasn't a real person—at least, not any more. Decades ago, the speaker of prophecies had been cursed, and now all that was left of the old one was a decaying body. Getting a prophecy for a quest was a gruesome business: the Oracle couldn't deliver them without billows of putrid green smoke.

She stared at me now with her glassy, empty eyes.

'I don't suppose you have any hints for me?'

I didn't really expect her to answer. So I was shocked when a wisp of green smoke, like a breath in freezing air, escaped her mouth. It pooled and thickened, and then the green mist enveloped me, making my eyes water and my head spin. Fear tightened like a vise around my chest. There were rumours among the campers that the Oracle could drive you crazy. It was why visiting it without permission was supposed to be forbidden. The only time I'd ever asked her a question, it hadn't been like this, and I wondered now if I'd pushed a bit too far.

I felt myself falling.

Three blobs grew out of the mist, resolving into the stooped figures of three wizened old ladies. Their wrinkles were carved so deeply, their faces looked like ancient, weathered rock. In fact, I would have thought they were stone statues if their hands had not been active. Each of them held a ball of yarn—one green, one blue, and one grey—and they were all knitting frantically. Their needles went so fast, they were a blur. It was astonishing how quickly three ancient women like them could use their fingers so deftly.

I had never seen any of them before, but I thought I could guess who they were: the legendary Fates, who were responsible for weaving the fabric of our lives.

Clickety-clack went the needles, twining the three balls of yarn into a massive quilt at dizzying speed. The centre Fate took out a pair of scissors and snipped off one of the threads, but I couldn't see which ball of yarn it had come from.

The Fates looked directly at me. They began to chant in a raspy voice I had heard only once before:

One that bid his time for many a year

The fate of Olympus, the time draws near

A god maligned, desperate card to be played

Daughter of wisdom awaits her prophesied fate

A quest unfolds only when safety is torn

Child of the prophecy arrives by morn.

I heard a faint roar, as though the wind was carrying the enraged howl of a fearsome beast from beyond the camp's boundaries. The mist swirled, reducing the Fates and their knitting to insubstantial smoke. Four tiny figures took their place, running across the room. It was like watching a holographic movie in mute: three kids and a satyr raced across smoky hills, pursued by a dark shadow.

It was tapping into my memories, showing me the worst day of my life.

The smallest kid stumbled, falling behind. Her two friends ran back for her while the satyr hopped nervously from foot to foot. The monsters descended upon them: winged Furies flanked by a pack of hellhounds.

The boy dragged the girl who stumbled to her feet and helped her clamber up the hill towards the satyr. The other girl drew her sword and sliced down the nearest Fury. She shouted at her companions.

The scene had no sound, but I remembered perfectly well what Thalia had said: 'Go, Luke! Get Annabeth to safety. I'll hold them off!'

I closed my eyes and lay my head on the rough wooden floorboards of the attic. I didn't know how long I lay curled up there. When I opened my eyes again, the mist had receded. The stars that had shone through the skylight before had been blotted out by dark clouds, leaving the room pitch black. My ears rang in the attic's silence.

Outside, someone wailed desperately. I heard a thump downstairs, loud enough to carry up four storeys.

I froze for a second, then leapt through the trapdoor and raced down the stairs, taking them three at a time. I nearly crashed into Chiron exiting his apartments. He said, 'Annabeth? What are you doing—' but I didn't stay to let him finish the question. I didn't stop until I'd flung open the main door.

On the front porch were two bedraggled bodies. I recognised one of them immediately: my friend Grover Underwood, divested of his human disguise. Wet fur clung to his goat legs. He was unconscious, but his chest was heaving.

The other was a shivering boy about my age, with black hair plastered against the sides of his face. My first thought was, I know him! But I couldn't think where I'd seen him before. His hands were gripping Grover tightly, like he'd just dragged him up the steps before collapsing himself. He was clearly spent, his breath coming in hard, ragged gasps. Yet he seemed to crackle with energy. I was forcefully reminded of Thalia. It dawned on me that I was the age she'd been when we'd got to camp.

The skies shook with another crackle of thunder. I stared at the black-haired boy, my mind racing frantically.

Grover … this unknown but strangely familiar boy … the Oracle's words … the resemblance to Thalia … Everything seemed to be falling into place.

A half-blood of the eldest gods … Child of the prophecy arrives by morn.

Excitement bubbled up from the pit of my stomach.

'He's the one,' I breathed. 'He has to be!'

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A/N: No, the Acromanthon isn't actually from Greek mythology. I adapted it from Harry Potter.