BOOK THREE: THE FLOWER OF PROMISE


One more well versed in the art of story would call upon the muses, or the gods, or perhaps even the holy spirit. I, however, will do none of these things, for to think that these great powers could ever enter into my faulty self is the height of arrogance. My own spirit will therefore need to grow, and fly on its own. I beseech you, idle reader, to hold onto your patience, and to show mercy to this flawed writer, who will fail time and again regardless of his many attempts.

Our story begins in daytime, with three satyrs standing beside a bus. They'd seen the visiting demigods get out some minutes before, all of them led by one of their tour nymphs into the Hoof. Even now, they remembered the faces of those children; the wonder in them, eyes trailing up to see the thing casting them all in shadow.

It made the satyrs sick.

Hypocrisy of the highest degree. They pumped the air full of carbon, coming in their buses. They drank from their water bottles, cut down trees for their paper. They littered the forests with their aluminum cans and used napkins. Then they had the audacity to be impressed at all they were destroying?

These feelings and more had entered these satyrs when they watched those demigods. To the point that, when the visitors began to make plans as to their luggage, the satyrs had intervened. Insisted on bringing it themselves. Don't worry about it, they'd said, wringing their hands. We'll bring your stuff up, no problem. It's our job to welcome you properly, after all.

There'd been some complaints, of course. The visitors tried to be polite. Didn't want to impose. But the satyrs saw the relief, too. The slacking of their shoulders. The slight upturn of their lips. So it was easy enough to convince them.

All except one. A girl, young, hair colored like soft dirt. She'd become rather problematic, so they'd allowed her to take her own bag up with her. A rolling suitcase, and a large one at that, big enough for her to fit in if she'd wanted to. She'd been too insistent for the satyrs, not leaving the matter alone, so they'd allowed her that sole exception. Even now, she toured the Hoof with her suitcase rolling along behind her.

Well. That was all fine anyway. The rest of the luggage was right there in the two buses. All that was left was figuring out what to do with it. Just thinking about the possibilities made the satyrs smile wide, eyes glinting darkly.

Then, another satyr came by. This one was younger than the rest, twitching nervously, face uncertain. He rode a gigantopod, the giant snails used to get up and down the Hoof, friends of satyrs for millennia. The three satyrs watched as the other one rode across to the stable a ways away, and their plan came into fruition, because they knew this new satyr by his appearance and conduct.

"Grover!" one of the satyrs bleated. His hands were up to his mouth, like a town crier. "Grover, get over here!"

Grover heard the shout. He turned around on his saddle, pointed at himself, questioning. The three satyrs nodded, smiling, waving him down. So he turned the gigantopod, coming back towards them, a slimy trail of snail saliva marking his tracks.

"W-What's going on, guys?" Grover asked once he neared them. His hands were tapping nervously on the reins. He'd very rarely gotten called out by the other satyrs in Clover, after all. It was hard for him to make friends, and harder still for friends to make themselves present to him. His eyes shot to each of the three satyrs, finding them older and, by their horns, more distinguished in their organization.

"Help us out with something will ya?" one of the satyrs said. The other two went over to the buses, opening the undersides where the luggage lay. They began tossing the bags and suitcases to the ground before them, building up a pile. It was rough, the luggage coming down hard on the dirt and kicking up dust each time. They didn't care to know if they broke anything—hoped for it, actually.

"Um… sure? Y-You guys need some help brining all this up?" Grover asked. His face was sweating.

"No, nothing like that!"

The pile was a mound now. Bags on top of bags, suitcases on top of suitcases. Some had been popped open by the roughness with which they were dealt, spilling clothes out into the open. Grover began to see that this wasn't something the satyrs were doing out of kindness or duty. He felt the hard edge of it. Tasted the bloodlust in it.

The satyr speaking to him got closer, almost whispering. "Let's get one over on these damn humans, huh? Play a little joke. What'dya say you take ol' Bolly here," he patted the gigantopod on the shell, "and stink some of this stuff up? Just comb over it a few times. Really get the juices in there." His voice darkened as he talked. "See how they like it."

"Y-You want me to… ride over their clothes?"

"That's right."

By now, the two satyrs tossing luggage had finished up the bus. There was still a whole other one left, but they decided that could be taken care of in due time. For now, they walked over to Grover and their friend, set to watch the show.

Now all three satyrs looked to Grover, smirking at him, egging him on.

"Come on, Grover."

"It'll be funny."

"Get back at 'em a little."

Grover looked around. "They're children of D-Demeter, right? And Dionysus. Aster said—"

"Who gives a shit about Asterion?" the lead satyr said. His eyes narrowed now. Grover wilted under his glare. "You actually listen to that… that bullhead? Who cares? He's no satyr. Hell, he's not even a nature spirit, is he? Well?"

"N-No, I guess not…"

"That's right. We satyrs gotta stick together. Right?"

"I mean… yeah."

"So?" The lead satyr gestured to the luggage, arms spread to it, inviting. "C'mon. Do something, Grover. For once, do something, ya dimple."

At this, the other two satyrs laughed a bit, and Grover's shoulders drooped.

"Yeah, Grover. Earn your keep, will ya?"

"What, you wanna be a dimple forever?"

"Dimple! That's rich!"

Grover looked down at his hands. His horns were still growing in, so they all called him dimple. Him and all the other satyrs who hadn't been around as long. He was a Little Horn of Clover, same as the three satyrs that made fun of him, but a dimple wasn't the same. They shared the same patch on their chests—the same horn insignia, a small green thing—but they weren't the same, and he knew it, and believed it.

His hands tightened around the reins. He would do it. He would ride over the luggage. Bolly's voice drifted into his head, asking if he'd do it, and he thought, yeah, I'll do it. I'll do it alright. I won't be a dimple forever.

But his hands wouldn't move. They couldn't. He was frozen in his saddle, anxious and feeling alone among the laughter of the other three satyrs.

Then, just as his panic was starting to rise, one of the suitcases banged. All four satyrs around the pile stopped. Their eyes went to that suitcase, and again, something banged from inside. Like something was trying to get out.

"What in Hades?"

"Check it out."

As one, the three satyrs moved to see what was going on. The suitcase was bouncing in place now, something hitting its sides from the inside. Grover tightened his grip on the reins until the rope bit into his hands and almost drew blood. Now the anxiety was replaced by a new type of fear, and he started trembling, breath coming out in short bursts.

The suitcase began trembling too. Wildly. A monster, Grover thought. It has to be. He saw the tree satyrs get closer and closer, climbing atop the luggage pile until they stood right above it. Two of them, the two that had gotten all the luggage out, even crouched to get a closer look.

The suitcase fell silent. It was still now, causing the satyrs to come even closer. Then they heard a click.

"YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Percy Jackson popped out of the suitcase, arms up in the air. He flew up so fast and so suddenly that both hands punched out at the satyrs crouching beside him, catching them by surprise and sending both flying off the luggage pile.

"I made it!" Percy said, voice flying up with him. He started laughing.

The two satyrs he'd punched lied on the ground, cheeks bruised and battered, groaning in pain. The one who'd escaped such a fate, and Grover too for that matter, looked down at Percy with the bewilderment of one who was suddenly thrown into an alien planet.

"What in… What in the Hades?"

Percy turned around to see who'd spoken. His eyes met the satyrs, and the satyr backed up a step, hands coming up between them. "Hey!" Percy said, grinning. "My names' Percy Jackson! Sorry, but I snuck in!"

"…. Uh…."

Both Grover and the other satyr watched dumbfounded as Percy got out of the suitcase, rolled down the luggage pile, and began stretching on solid ground. "Man, that was a tight fit, y'know! And I got so hungry! Oi…" Percy stopped stretching, fixing both remaining satyrs with a look far more serious than either were ready for, his face contorting into sternness, transformed into a different person before their very eyes. "… You guys got something to eat?"

The satyr and Grover looked at each other then, finding in themselves some amount of comradery for once, seeing that the other was just as off-step as themselves. Then, the older satyr realized with a start his own position, and where they were, and exactly what was happening. His glare settled on Percy.

"You're an intruder!" he said, pointing.

Percy, his stretching complete, began picking his nose. "Yep!"

"And a human!"

"… Yep!"

"You're not allowed here at all!"

Percy flicked a booger off to the side. "Sorry."

"You don't sound like you're sorry!"

Then, Percy noticed the gigantopod Grover rode on. He went to it, eyes wide and filled with wonder. "Woah! Look at that snail!" He began patting its shell without pause. "It's so big!"

Grover leaned back away from Percy, as much as he could without falling off. As the boy patted his mount, Bolly started doing something like purring, a start-and-stop sound like the soft screeching of a wheel. Hearing it, Grover realized Bolly liked it.

"Hey, I'm Percy Jackson!" the boy said, giving the satyr a toothy smile. "What's your name?"

"G-Grover. Grover Underwood…" the words came out without his meaning to, but by then it was too late. Percy grabbed Grover's hand and began shaking it.

"Nice to meet you! Hey, can I ride a snail too? And where's the food around here?"

Where' the food? The words caught in Grover's throat, and so he stayed silent, not quite knowing what to say. On one hand, he'd been told over and over that humans weren't to be trusted. On the other hand, this human was so friendly that he couldn't help but want to trust him. Plus, and perhaps most importantly, Bolly already trusted him. He could hear the gigantopod's insistence to bring the boy along. If there was any good judge of character, as far as he knew, it was Bolly.

By then, the other satyr—whose name was Milford—had grown irritated that Percy seemed to completely ignore his calls of authority. So, stepping forward, he caught Percy's wrist in his hand, holding it tight. He turned the boy around to face him.

"I don't think you heard me, human! What do you think you're doing here?" Milford said, a vein popping out his forehead.

Percy stared at him. His head fell to one side. "I wanted to see the big tree," he said, and right then, as he had to look up at the taller satyr, his eyes went past the bus they stood behind. His breath caught.

High, high above them, reaching up into the sky so tall that it had been easy enough not to even notice, there stood the trunk of a tree. To Percy, it was a trunk, because the rest of the tree was too large to be fully grasped with his sight. The trunk's width spread for what seemed like a mile on either side, and as his eyes trailed up, Percy saw that the wood began branching out into the clouds. He couldn't even see the cover of leaves.

Wrapping around the trunk like a snake was a platform made of sanded wood, and on it, Percy saw the minute impressions of what looked like people. Some walked up and down the platform, while others seemed to be riding atop something in big groups. And at the base of the tree, partially hidden by the bus, Percy saw the hollow opening that stretched out at least five stories up, like a great big mouth.

Only then did he notice too that what had looked like hills all around him were actually roots, some stabbing up out of the ground, others slipping slowly down into it in graceful arcs. All in all, the majesty of it left him well and truly speechless, the first time since he'd been introduced to the crazy world he was now a part of.

The Hoof of the World. The tallest tree in North America, its orange-red leaves stretching up thousands of feet into the sky, a miniature mountain made solely out of plant life. Its hollow trunk was home to Clover, an organization created some fifty years before to control the environmental impact of modern life. Nature spirits from all around the world worked in its name, infiltrating governments, protecting national parks, cleaning out the oceans, you name it, they're part of it. At least, that's what Percy had heard from a Dionysus camper before he'd decided to sneak in.

Milford kept talking, either not seeing the glister in Percy's eyes or not caring for it. "I don't know who you think you are, kid, but you're in big trouble! Just let Master Leneus hear about this…" His eyes went to Grover, and the other satyr jumped. "Hey, dimple! Change of plans. Let me take Bolly up to see Leneus. We'll figure out what to do with this guy."

At the mention of trouble, Percy snapped back to reality. "Oh! Uh, sorry, but I can't get caught yet," he said.

Milford looked down at him, glaring. "Well, sorry, but I don't care. I'm bringing you in."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am!"

"Nuh-huh."

"We'll see what happens, then!" Milford said. Now incensed, he began walking away towards the tree, hand tightening around Percy's wrist.

It took him a while to realize that he was walking in place. When he did, he looked down at his hooves, saw them sliding across the dirt. Then, he looked back at Percy, who stood still and stable, and even a little bored.

Frowning, Milford stood his ground and pulled on Percy's arm. Nothing happened. The boy didn't budge even a little. The satyr pulled harder.

Grover saw all this, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He saw Milford spread his legs to pull, then use both arms, then go around Percy and try to push the boy from behind. He tried to pick the boy up off the ground, but Percy's feet seemed glued to it.

"You're pretty weak, huh?" Percy said, looking at Milford with something akin to pity.

His scowl now firmly locked, Milford stood in front of Percy, seething. "I'll have you know, I'm a recruit for—"

Milford was thrown back into the bus. He dented the side, body crumpling into the metal, before sliding down to the ground in an unconscious heap. Percy brought a hand up to his mouth and yawned.

"Anyway," he said, turning to Grover, who was now shaking hard enough to make the shell he sat on tremble. "You mind showing me around the place, Grover? Preferably the cafeteria?"

"Uh…. Uh…"

"…. You alright?"

"Uh…."

Percy stared at him for a long while. Then, his eyes lit up, and he brought his hands together behind his head. "Oh, you're scared," he said.

He'd seen that expression before. White as a sheet, mouth agape, eyes going this way and that like he was about to cross the road. It was something he'd grown used to, even. The first time had been a full-grown man who'd been pointing a gun at him and was set to pull the trigger. He'd smacked him in the face with the barrel, then tossed the thing out of his hands and off the side of the building they'd stood on. All without moving an inch. The way his face morphed from wonder to realization to horror had almost been funny. Almost.

By now, Percy had grown bored of it. "Hey, I'm not gonna kill you or anything. Calm down," he said, voice drawling. He began walking towards the satyr, ignoring the groans from the two he'd accidentally punched out.

As he neared, Grover began trembling harder. He didn't hear Percy's words, he was shaking so bad. But then, Bolly's mewl pierced through the thumping of his own heart, and it told him that there wasn't anything to worry about. That he'd be fine.

Before he knew it, Percy was standing right before him, petting Bolly's head. Slick mucus dripped form him as he did, but the boy didn't seem to care. Watching it, hearing Bolly's purrs, Grover's fear abated despite himself.

"These things are super gross," Percy said, though he kept petting Bolly. And he was smiling.

That's what did it for Grover. The smile. There was no danger in it. If he hadn't just seen what Percy could do, he'd have even thought it was sort of dumb-looking.

"You're not part of the camper group are you?" Grover asked. He saw that Percy was dressed as a camper, with the orange shirt all the other demigods had come wearing, but it was clear to him that he wasn't supposed to be there.

Percy shrugged. "No. But I heard about this place, and I thought it'd be cool is all."

Grover knew that he should report him. Go up to a senior, even another little horn, and tell them all about the kid who'd sneaked into Clover. He was a human, after all, one completely disconnected from nature as far as he could see. But Bolly liked him. And Grover hadn't really spent any time with a human in some years.

Speaking of which…

"Do you know Annabeth, by any chance? Annabeth Chase?"

It was Percy's turn to be surprised. He looked at Grover, eyes wide. "Yeah! She kicked my ass! You know her?"

Well, maybe the rules could wait a bit, Grover thought.


Malcolm was waiting for her back in the room.

This single thought put Katie at ease even as she followed the rest of the camp group into the dining pavilion. He'd gotten out of the suitcase, and was now sitting in her bed or his, probably resting. That, or playing around with his new toy, Katie thought, a smile coming to her when she remembered the excitement on his face when he'd told her about it.

That smile bloomed even more when she saw the large chamber they entered. What looked to be a simple hole on the side of the Hoof's trunk became a giant, circular room the size of a small stadium. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were sandpapered to perfection, looking so smooth that light reflected off them as well as any marble construction. Inside, two rings of round tables circled its perimeter, truly gigantic tables fit to serve thousands of people.

Even then, Katie and her siblings followed after their guide, a forest nymph named Sadine. They walked across the room and through the frenzied crowd of all sorts of spirits—satyrs mostly, some of them giving their group rather derisive looks, but there were also a wealth of multicolored nymphs; among them hamadryades, oreades, meliae, and even some salt-water dryads who'd somehow made it inland. All the way at the back, she saw a smaller table, one fit for only a handful of people, and sitting on it, Katie saw her for the first time.

Her mother was easily the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen in her life. Clean, silky waves of hair the color of maple wood flowed down to her shoulders in generous arcs, framing the curve of a face that Katie could only describe as purely pretty. She'd always imagined her mother to match what she'd seen in magazines and television—someone akin to a model—but the reality was much closer to what she'd think of a princess, or even a young queen, with her melodious curves hidden under a simple white gown, like she'd taken a break from court and had decided to go take a walk in the gardens.

The Goddess Demeter looked back, only for a second, but it was enough for their eyes to meet and for Katie to become immediately ashamed. At once, the girl felt that her mother could see right through what she'd done, the rules she'd broken, and the rules she planned to keep breaking. She noticed what looked like a small frown develop on Demeter's incandescent face, before the goddess was addressed by the person sitting next to her and turned.

Katie sighed then, not having realized the way her heart was beating. She heard the murmurs of her siblings, most of them having likely never seen Demeter either, all of them excited at the chance of being in the same room with her. Some even ventured to think they'd get to talk to her.

Sadine led the group all the way around the room to their seats, and it was only when Katie slid in under the table—prepared with plates and cutlery as it was—that she noticed the most impressive thing about the place.

Rising high into the room, almost touching the ceiling some forty feet up, was a giant flower. Its stem was as thick as the largest redwood, and its many white petals were big enough to use as blankets. It was covered in a strange, green sap that looked like it was glowing, and a tidal wave of fireflies circled it, some coming to rest on the sap to eat, others drifting off the flower altogether and flying around the room as they wished.

Fire was not allowed in the Hoof. That's what Sadine had told them as they journeyed into the maze-like hallways and tunnels of it. There were no torches to light the many rooms and pathways. No electricity. All they had were the fireflies, who were enough in number to keep the whole place as bright as any building in New York. And those fireflies were attracted by one thing.

"That's Halcyon, alright," Sadine said, sitting next to her. Katie turned on a dime, blushing at being caught in her reverie. The dryad laughed. "Don't worry, I was worse the first time I saw it. You don't see lots of granadines around these days."

Katie nodded dumbly, looking back at this flower. A granadine, the rarest species on the planet. No one even knew if there were any left aside from the one in that very room, its stem popping out of a hole in the floor, planted far, far below at the entrance chamber and rising 700 feet in the air all the way to where it bloomed now.

Halcyon, the Flower of Promise. She'd heard about it, as anyone in camp had heard about the wonders of Clover's headquarters, but only ever in stories and rumors. In some ways, it was even more impressive to her than the mountain-tree it was planted within.

A gong went off. The room quieted. As the low ring echoed, Katie noticed that everyone was now seated, all the thousands who'd come to that room. Some kept to muttering, but all eyes were now on the one who'd struck the instrument, standing behind the head table, the one who sat next to her own mother. A satyr. Fat, rotund, his goat legs looking far too small on his wide frame, and his beard curling up at the ends like some kind of wizard.

But his face was hard as stone, and just one glance around the room from him quieted even those who'd been whispering.

"I welcome all of you to this great wonder of our mother Earth," he said, letting the gong stick down on the table. "I especially want to welcome Lady Demeter and Lord Dionysus, who've taken a reprieve of their affairs in Olympus to join us here for this most important week."

At this, the room burst into applause, Katie joining it without even meaning to, then participating wholeheartedly. Her mother smiled and waved. The God Dionysus, sitting on her other side, ignored the cheering, head on his forehead like he had a headache.

"And… I'll welcome also our guests who we have here alongside them. Their children, all the way form Camp Half-Blood."

The applause was more polite this time, even strained. It was clear many didn't want to do it at all, but Katie saw many of the attendants seem to swallow it down. They were all looking at the gods in the room.

"I'll welcome also all the Middle Horns that were able to make it. We know you are all halfway through some project or other, and your loyalty isn't overlooked. Welcome home, all of you."

A final round of applause, some hoots even. Katie saw some satyrs hug each other, pat each other on the shoulder, laugh like old friends seeing each other after a long time. Some of the same people who'd forced themselves to clap for them. The thought made Katie frown for the first time all day.

She'd noticed the cold shoulder her and the other campers had been getting. She'd have to be blind not to. Glares, curt responses, upturned noses like the smell was too much. Katie was disappointed, but the rumors she'd heard at camp had made her ready for it.

But now she recalled a different time just a year or two before, when satyrs and nature spirits were the friendliest people at camp. When many of them were her friends. She recognized some from across the room, many of which she hadn't had the chance to talk to yet after only one day, and some who had treated her and her siblings the same as the others. Her frown deepened.

"For those who don't know me, I am Leneus, Elder of Clover's Guardian Branch. Next to me are Elder Erato, and Elder Asterion."

The former, a dryad who would've been resplendent If she hadn't been sitting alongside her mother, smiled and nodded. The latter was the Minotaur.

Katie didn't know how it happened. The monster they'd all heard about as children had somehow become part of Clover, and one of its three leaders at that. Even now, its engorged muscles threatened to rip the seams of its green suit. She'd heard it had some kind of redemptive awakening, but looking at it, at the beady eyes and dark horns, she couldn't be sure, even knowing it had been in the job for decades.

"Let's get down to business, then," Leneus said. He walked out from behind the head table, his old but strong voice echoing throughout the room without difficulty. "Clover as an institution was founded only half a century ago, now. It's the most concentrated effort us nature spirits have made at protecting, reclaiming, and searching for those wild places which mankind has more often than not taken to conquer." He walked towards Halcyon, slowly, the tapping of his hooves against the hardwood floor the only sound in the room other than his voice. "But as an idea? Clover's been around far longer than a mere 50 years. Clover's been deep in the hearts of all those who care for this great bounty we've been blessed with here on our great mother Earth."

"Yeah it has!" someone shouted from across the room. There was laughter, and even Leneus smiled a bit.

"There's the excitement I want to see," the satyr said, turning to the voice. "Right there! That's the spirit that has fueled us for centuries! For millennia! Since the beginning, there were those of us who knew that, at the end of the day, this is all we had!" He spread his arms out at the room, but his eyes affixed themselves firmly on Halcyon, and his smile dropped. "My friend Halcyon knew it too. We were just a couple of kids trying to protect the land we cared so much about. Cared about it so much that it ended up killing him."

He paused, looking down at his hooves in a kind of remembrance. Katie looked back at the head table. She saw the forlorn look on Elder Erato's face. Even the Minotaur's monstrous visage was twisted into something like sorrow.

"But he lives on still. His promise lives here with us in the Clover he founded." Leneus put his hand on Halcyon's stem. Fireflies danced around him. "The promise that, one day, the world will be green and wild again. That one day, mother Earth and all her children will live in peace." He turned to examine the crowd, and when his eyes swept across the campers, Katie thought she saw them narrow just the slightest bit. The look disappeared just as quickly as it had come. "That's what we're doing here today, and in the days to come. It's a chance for us all to come together and figure out what's best for mother Earth moving forward. Talk to each other. Share your ideas. Your discoveries. Your accomplishments. Your hopes and dreams. And don't be afraid to share them with us! If we work together, we can surely find some way to save ourselves from the wretched state we find ourselves in."

A sour look crossed his face then, and Leneus looked to spit, but seemed to think better of it. He swallowed, turning back to walk towards the head table. "Fuel emissions are on the rise. The seas are being filled with plastic. Animals dying left and right. It's a truly wretched state we're in. Perhaps, mankind will one day realize how much damage they truly deal. How sick they make us to our stomachs. But until then, all we can do is find solutions with each other."

Katie slouched back on her seat. She saw some of her siblings do the same. The tips of her ears were burning, and it didn't help that some of the nature spirits around them gave their group rather pointed looks.

Leneus was now back beside her mother. He grabbed the back of his chair, pulling it out. "And in that spirit, with the powers given to me by my office and the grace of my peers, I call this our Fifth Decennial Jubilee… Officially commenced!"

The room erupted into applause. Right at that moment, servers burst into the room, satyrs and nymphs and all other sorts of spirits, all carrying platters of food over their heads. They set the great plates down onto the tables, and almost immediately everyone began to eat with ravenous frenzy. The room that had just seconds ago been completely silent was now filled with chatter and cheering and bleating and laughter and sliding chairs.

And all through it, Katie was excited. She got right to feasting with everyone else. Sadine passed her a plate of bread, and she took two loaves before passing it along. She grabbed for fruit. She forked mouthfuls of spinach and grapes. She smiled.

Katie wanted to share her ideas and hear others' stories. The noise and chaos of the pavilion was welcome to her. But all throughout, a feeling creeped its way down her chest and settled deep in her gut. Even amongst so much joy and enthusiasm, Katie couldn't help but feel as if she didn't belong.


Here is where the story truly begins.

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