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Chapter 9

Foam Angels Never Fade

Chiron managed to give me the slip at breakfast, as Tyson and I had arrived just as it was coming to an end. We were only there long enough to receive some greetings from the majority of the campers (excluding, of course, the Ares cabin, though Clarisse elected to ignore rather than glare at me like her siblings; apparently all the times I had helped her made me tolerable in her eyes) and for Tyson to consume a small breakfast (for him –it would've easily fed three people). Also, I'd had to send my mom an Iris-message beforehand to let her know I wasn't dead. Parents like to know those kinds of things.

I stared meaningfully at Chiron for the short period we were there hoping to catch his eyes, but he avoided my gaze like a master poker player. The only recognition I saw in his face was the way he seemed to fight a grin every once in a while. I couldn't believe he was taking everything so lightly, let alone finding it funny.

But then again, war was nearly upon us. Rachael's mysterious problem was like the division step at the end of a quadratic equation: it was an important but small factor in the grand scheme of things, and I seemed to be the only one who thought it needed immediate attention.

Just as the meal was winding to a close, Mr. D stood to make an announcement. He cleared his throat, unnecessarily, for every demigod knew to become vigilant whenever a God spoke lest they get turned into something creative.

"It seems we have another brat to add to your number," he said, sounding desperately bored. "She's unidentified and, thus, will move immediately to the Hermes cabin." He sat down as an interested babble broke out among the departing campers. Mr. D's briefness reflected upon the insignificance he felt that pertained to things like Rachael's name and age. But, his briefness also displayed a bit of tact. Rachael would move into a cabin that assumed she was a halfblood, for they had not been told otherwise, and shuffle into a background of halfbloods who were unfortunate enough to remain unclaimed. Everyone would think she was a member of that group: a girl neither similar nor loved enough by any God or Goddess to have her heritage identified.

I might have caught up with Chiron on his way to the Archery lanes, but Tyson grabbed me by my collar again and led me toward the beach.

The rest of that day was like the first vacation I'd had in years. We spent the entire day diving and chatting about anything or nothing. Sometimes, Tyson would toss me into the water, and it would erupt in a water fight that made the Titanic sinking seem like a day at the car wash. Other times, Tyson told me about all the awesome things that went on in dad's kingdom, and I made angels in the foam as I listened. The best part about foam angels is if you're the son of Poseidon, they don't have to wash away. Another perk is listening to the sea inside shells; if you concentrate hard enough, you can pick up the frequency of almost any fisherman's radio. It was mainly a great deal of cursing and jokes that made me blush, but it's good to know when you have a talent like that.

We were tanning when Tyson speaking startled me out of a doze.

"I have a bad feeling," he said, looked very serious all of a sudden.

"What about?" I asked, worried at the sudden change in Tyson's mood.

"New girl," he muttered. I laughed, relieved.

"Rachael?" I said, shaking my head. "I think she's the least of anyone's problems, Big Guy. She's completely harmless." But Tyson grunted, still deep in thought, and wouldn't allow the subject to close.

"She has a strange smell… not monster, but still… different. I don't want her to put my brother in danger."

My response was to grin and tell him to relax; that I was perfectly safe or at least as safe as someone like me can ever be.

Looking back, I wished I had listened to what had seemed at the time to be a casual worry of my protective brother. Maybe if I'd listened, I would've been more on my guard. Maybe there wouldn't have been so much struggling and dangers in the weeks to come. Maybe less blood and tears would have been shed, and my friends and I wouldn't have suffered as much as we did.

But "maybe" is a pointless concept, one that will only cause pain and regret. It has to be let go, or it will fester into a wound that only death and madness can relieve. I wanted to let it go, though...

…Because maybe, if Annabeth hadn't arrived at that moment to escort us to Big House to support Rachael in seeking the Oracle, I would have given greater thought to Tyson's words…. and maybe I would have realized the one thing about the Rachael Situation that could've disrupted the lives of everyone involved in it:

I was falling in love with the daydreamy girl who was very nearly a stranger to me.

PERCABETH FANS: Don't panic! Stick with the story, if you get my meaning. There's still a great deal of story to go.

PERCHAEL FANS: You may now commence in the Dance 'O Happiness.

I'm sorry for being so sparing with hints of future plot events, but I like to keep people guessing! HINT: Can anyone think of a reason why Percy would be falling in love so quickly? If not, then look to previous chapters.