I feel so smart now, sitting down with my new glasses. I don't ever really need these, my vision is pretty good. So, last time is the demigod problems, Jaden got yeeted into camp and Skylah still ships Percabeth and will learn what had changed at camp.

Chapter 5

Hello brother!

Skylah P.O.V

Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, maids number 1-7) has tried to "clean" it, and suddenly you can't find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody's been looking through your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?

That's kind of the way I felt seeing Camp Half-Blood again. On the surface, things didn't look all that different. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields were still baking in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley—the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins—a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different god/goddess.

But there was an air of danger now. You could tell something was wrong.

Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars. Somebody had messed with my favorite place in the world, and this did not spark joy.

As we made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from last summer.

Nobody stopped to talk or say "Welcome back." Lowkey kinda rude. Some did double-takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties, which was running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels.

The camp felt like a military school. Percy and Jaden have been kicked out of a couple. None of that mattered to Tyson.

He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw.

"Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The stables for pegasi," Percy said. "The winged horses."
"Whasthat!"

"Um…those are the toilets."

"Whasthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabin—that brown one over there—until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."

He looked at Percy in awe. "You…have a cabin?"

"Number three." He pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.

"You live with friends in the cabin?"

"No. No, just me and Jaden, sometimes Skyalh."

I didn't feel like explaining. The embarrassing truth: We were the only ones who stayed in that cabin because none of us were supposed to be alive. In fact, I don't even live there most of the time, I spend most of my time shut inside reading the beautiful books inside the Athena cabin.

The "Big Three" gods—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—had made a pact after World War II not to have any more children with mortals.

We were more powerful than regular half-bloods. We were too unpredictable. When we got mad we tended to cause problems…like World War II, for instance.

The "Big Three" pact had only been broken three times—once when Zeus sired Thalia, once when Poseidon sired Percy, not to mention the last time when Poseidon and Athena of all gods, had made Jaden and I. None of us should've been born.

Thalia had gotten herself turned into a pine tree when she was twelve. Percy had been doing his best in doing something different. So am I.

Just imagine what our parents could turn us into if we were on our death beds. What if I got turned into a book? A magic book. Poseidon accepts that I'm alive, but Athena just dots over me. What if she chose to keep me in some dusty old library to read and after she forgets about me, I never get picked up again?

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. I guess I should mention—Chiron is a centaur. From the waist up he looks like a regular middle-aged guy with curly brown hair and a scraggly beard. From the waist down, he's a white stallion.

He can pass for human by compacting his lower half into a magic wheelchair. He'd passed himself off as our(Percy, Jaden, and I) Latin teacher during my sixth-grade year. But most of the time, if the ceilings are high enough, he prefers hanging out in full centaur form.

As soon as we saw him, Tyson froze.

"Pony!" he cried in total rapture.

Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"

Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not…leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a second father to her. Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile.

"Hello, child. And Percy, my goodness. You've grown over the year! My, Skylah I can see you are starting to become a fine young woman! I saw Jaden fly by, I hope he's alright"

I heard Percy swallow. "Clarisse said you were…you were…"

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr. D had to punish someone."

"Besides himself, you mean," Percy growled.

"Percy, calm down, we don't have all the facts," I said, placing my hand on him, hoping that I could stay calm without becoming labeled as one of Luke's soldiers for attacking a god.

"But this is crazy!" Annabeth cried. "Chiron, you couldn't have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree!"

"Nevertheless," Chiron sighed, "some in Olympus do not trust me now, under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Percy asked.

Chiron's face darkened. He stuffed a Latin-English dictionary into his saddlebag while the Frank Sinatra music oozed from his boom box. Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he wanted to pat Chiron's flank but was afraid to come closer. "Pony?"

Chiron sniffed. "My dear young Cyclops! I am a centaur."

"Chiron," Percy said. "What about the tree? What happened?"

He shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus."

"Then we know who's responsible. Kro—"

"Do not invoke the titan lord's name, Percy. Especially not here, not now."

"But last summer he tried to cause a civil war in Olympus! This has to be his idea. He'd get Luke to do it, that traitor."

"Perhaps," Chiron said. "But I fear I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. The tree has only a few weeks of life left unless…" "Unless what?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Chiron said. "A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock of the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago."

"What is it?" Percy asked. "We'll go find it!"

Chiron closed his saddlebag. He pressed the stop button on his boom box. Then he turned and rested his hand on my shoulder, looking me straight in the eyes. "Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It's much too dangerous. But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."

"Why?" Percy asked. "I want to do something! I can't just let the borders fail. The whole camp will be—"

"Overrun by monsters," Chiron said. "Yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life."

I mean, he has more than a few points. But knowing Percy, he would still want to charge straight ahead. The poisoning had to be the work of Kronos. Who else would be so low as to attack Thalia's tree, the only thing left of a hero who'd given her life to save her friends? Annabeth was trying hard not to cry. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek.

"Stay with Percy, child," he told her. "Keep him safe. The prophecy—remember it!"

"I—I will."

"Um…" Percy said. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about?"

Nobody answered.

"Right," Percy muttered. "Just checking."

"What about me?" I asked, feeling a little left out.

"Skylah, I know that it is your turn, but it would not be wise for you and Percy to go on a quest together, not now. If you don't recall, your death is still something quite likely. Stick with your brother and Percy."

"Chiron…" Annabeth said. "You told me the gods made you immortal only so long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—"

"Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."

"I—I swear it upon the River Styx," Annabeth said. Thunder rumbled outside.

"Very well," Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. "Perhaps my name will be cleared and I shall return. Until then, I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It's possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved…one way or another."

Annabeth stifled a sob. Chiron patted her shoulder awkwardly. "There, now, child. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director. We must hope…well, perhaps they won't destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear."

"Who is this Tantalus guy, anyway?" Percy demanded. "Where does he get off taking your job?"

A conch horn blew across the valley. I hadn't realized how late it was. It was time for the campers to assemble for dinner.

"Go," Chiron said. "You will meet him at the pavilion. I will contact your mother, Percy, and let her know you're safe. No doubt she'll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger. Do not think for a moment that the titan lord has forgotten you!"

With that, he clopped out of the apartment and down the hall, Tyson calling after him, "Pony! Don't go!"

I realized Percy had forgotten to tell Chiron about his dream of Grover. Now it was too late.

Tyson started bawling almost as bad as Annabeth. I tried to tell them that things would be okay, but I didn't believe it myself.

The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as the campers came up from their cabins. We stood in the shadow of a marble column and watched them file in. Annabeth was still pretty shaken up, but she promised she'd talk to us later. Then she went off to join her siblings from the Athena cabin—a dozen boys and girls with blond hair and gray eyes like hers. Annabeth wasn't the oldest, but she'd been at camp more summers than just about anybody. You could tell that by looking at her camp necklace—one bead for every summer, and Annabeth had six.

No one questioned her right to lead the line.

Next came Clarisse, leading the Ares cabin. She had one arm in a sling and a nasty-looking gash on her cheek, but otherwise, her encounter with the bronze bulls didn't seem to have fazed her. Someone had taped a piece of paper to her back that said, YOU MOO, GIRL! But nobody in her cabin was bothering to tell her about it.

After the Ares kids came to the Hephaestus cabin—six guys led by Charles Beckendorf, a big fifteen-year-old African American kid. He had hands the size of catchers' mitts and a face that was hard and squinty from looking into a blacksmith's forge all day. He was nice enough once you got to know him, but no one ever called him Charlie or Chuck or Charles. Most just called him Beckendorf. Rumor was he could make anything. Give him a chunk of metal and he could create a razor-sharp sword or a robotic warrior or a singing birdbath for your grandmother's garden. Whatever you wanted.

The other cabins filed in: Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, Dionysus. Naiads came up from the canoe lake. Dryads melted out of the trees. From the meadow came a dozen satyrs, who reminded me of Grover.

When they were at camp, they had to do all kinds of odd jobs for Mr. D, the director, but their most important work was out in the real world. They were the camp's seekers. They went undercover into schools all over the world, looking for potential half-bloods and escorting them back to camp. That's how we'd met Grover. He had been the first one to recognize Percy was a demigod and me and my twin happened to be drawn to Percy.

After the satyrs filed into dinner, the Hermes cabin brought up the rear. They were always the biggest cabin. Last summer, it had been led by Luke, the guy who'd fought with Thalia and Annabeth on top of Half-Blood Hill.

For a while, before Poseidon had claimed us(Kinda), we lodged in the Hermes cabin. Luke had befriended Percy…and then he'd tried to kill him.

Now the Hermes cabin was led by Travis and Connor Stoll. They weren't twins, but they looked so much alike it didn't matter. I could never remember which one was older. They were both tall and skinny, with mops of brown hair that hung in their eyes. They wore orange CAMP HALFBLOOD T-shirts untucked over baggy shorts, and they had those elfish features all Hermes's kids had: upturned eyebrows, sarcastic smiles, a gleam in their eyes whenever they looked at you, that looked like they were about to drop a firecracker down your shirt. I'd always thought it was funny that the god of thieves would have kids with the last name "Stoll," but the only time I mentioned it to Travis and Connor, they both stared at me blankly like they didn't get the joke.

As soon as the last campers had filed in, Percy led Tyson into the middle of the pavilion. Conversations faltered. Heads turned.

"Who invited that?" somebody at the Apollo table murmured. I glared in their direction, but I couldn't figure out who'd spoken.

From the head table, a familiar voice drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't Peter Johnson and Skylar sayborne. My millennium is complete."

Percy gritted his teeth. "Percy Jackson/Skylah Sayboune…sir." We said in synch.

Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. "Yes. Well, as you young people say these days: Whatever."

He was wearing his usual leopard-pattern Hawaiian shirt, walking shorts, and tennis shoes with black socks. With his pudgy belly and his blotchy red face, he looked like a Las Vegas tourist who'd stayed up too late in the casinos. Behind him, a nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skins off grapes and handing them to Mr. D one at a time. Mr. D's real name is Dionysus. The god of wine. Zeus appointed him director of Camp HalfBlood to dry out for a hundred years—a punishment for chasing some off-limits wood nymph.

Next to him, where Chiron usually sat (or stood, in centaur form), was someone I'd never seen before—a pale, horribly thin man in a threadbare orange prisoner's jumpsuit. The number over his pocket read 0001. He had blue shadows under his eyes, dirty fingernails, and badly cut gray hair, like his last haircut had been done with a weed whacker.

He stared at me; his eyes made me nervous. He looked…fractured. Angry and frustrated and hungry all at the same time.

"This boy and," Dionysus told him, "you need to watch. Poseidon's child, you know. And cant forget the double spawn of Athena and Poseidon"

"Ah!" the prisoner said. "That those two." His tone made it obvious that he and Dionysus had already discussed us at length.

"I am Tantalus," the prisoner said, smiling coldly. "On special assignment here until, well, until my Lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you, Perseus Jackson and Skylah Jade Sayboune, I do expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble. That includes your brother"

"No, not at all, Jaden is the only reasonable one among the three, he does his best to keep them in line. But yes, I'd also enjoy less trouble from these two" Mr. D said suddenly, surprising everyone. He must really like Jaden to get his name right, every single time.

"Trouble?" Percy demanded. Dionysus snapped his fingers. A newspaper appeared on the table—the front page of today's New York Post. There was Percy's yearbook picture from Meriwether Prep. Not to mention two other blurry pictures.

It was hard for me to make out the headline, but I had a pretty good guess of what it said. Something like: Thirteen-year-old Lunatic Torches Gymnasium.

"Yes, trouble," Tantalus said with satisfaction. "You caused plenty of it last summer, I understand."

I was too mad to speak. Like it was our fault the gods had almost gotten into a civil war? Like it was our fault that we were born? I didn't even do anything last year!

A satyr inched forward nervously and set a plate of barbecue in front of Tantalus. The new activities director licked his lips.

He looked at his empty goblet and said, "Root beer. Barq's special stock. 1967." The glass-filled itself with foamy soda. Tantalus stretched out his hand hesitantly as if he were afraid the goblet was hot.

"Go on, then, old fellow," Dionysus said, a strange sparkle in his eyes. "Perhaps now it will work."

Tantalus grabbed for the glass, but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops rolled away like quicksilver before he could touch them. He growled and turned toward the plate of barbecue. He picked up a fork and tried to stab a piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew off the end, straight into the coals of the brazier.

"Blast!" Tantalus muttered.

"Ah, well," Dionysus said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Perhaps a few more days. Believe me, old chap, working at this camp will be torture enough. I'm sure your old curse will fade eventually."

"Eventually," muttered Tantalus, staring at Dionysus's Diet Coke. "Do you have any idea how dry one's throat gets after three thousand years?"

"You're that spirit from the Fields of Punishment," Percy said. "The one who stands in the lake with the fruit tree hanging over you, but you can't eat or drink."

Tantalus sneered at him. "A real scholar, aren't you, boy?"

"You must've done something really horrible when you were alive," Percy said, sounding mildly impressed. "What was it?"

Don't you remember? Wasn't he the one that got to eat with the gods, killed his son, and fed his son to them?

Tantalus's eyes narrowed. Behind him, the satyrs were shaking their heads vigorously, trying to warn him.

"I'll be watching you, Percy Jackson," Tantalus said. "I don't want any problems at my camp."

"Your camp has problems already…sir."

"Oh, go sit down, Johnson," Dionysus sighed. "I believe that table over there is yours—the one where no one else ever wants to sit. Where poor Jaden is forced to babysit you. Do give him this will you?" He tossed me a piece of ambrosia.

Percy was bright red in the face, but he knew better than to talk back. I grabbed his shoulder. "Come on Percy he isn't worth it."

Dionysus was an overgrown brat, but he was an immortal, superpowerful overgrown brat.

Percy said, "Come on, Tyson."

"Oh, no," Tantalus said. "The monster stays here. We must decide what to do with it."

"Him," I snapped. "His name is Tyson."

The new activities director raised an eyebrow.

"Tyson saved the camp," Percy insisted. "He pounded those bronze bulls. Otherwise, they would've burned down this whole place."

"Yes," Tantalus sighed, "and what a pity that would've been."

Dionysus snickered.

"Leave us," Tantalus ordered, "while we decide this creature's fate."

Tyson looked at me with fear in his one big eye, but I knew I couldn't disobey a direct order from the camp directors. Not publicly at any rate.

"I'll be right over here, big guy," Percy promised. "Don't worry. We'll find you a good place to sleep tonight."

Tyson nodded. "I believe you. You are my friend."

Which made me feel a whole lot guiltier. I trudged over to the Poseidon table and slumped onto the bench. A wood nymph brought me a plate of Olympian olive-and-pepperoni pizza

Already there, Jaden was plopped down on the table, looking like a dead body. Sensing that Jaden wasn't in any condition to be decent company, I chose to sit with Percy this once.

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't do more...or tell you Tyson was a Cyclops" A muffled sound came from the table.

I grabbed his hair and yanked him up. "Why didn't you say anything?!" I whisper yelled at him, while Percy gave him a glare.

He winced when he noticed. "I- knew from the start. At first, I was on guard, but when I realized he was a baby and didn't fit the criteria from what I heard about Cyclopes, I decided to kill him if he ever tried anything. But-"

I slammed my free hand(which was now a fist) into his injured midsection. "You wanted to kill our friend?!" I hissed with venom dripping from my voice.

"I'd prioritize our lives over our friendship with his," He said with a groan. "Please don't do that again, the nectar they gave me hasn't kicked in too much. My ribs went from broken to heavily fractured. And I think you broke them again" With another wince, he passed out, flopping back onto the table. Maybe I shouldn't have hit him as hard as I did. But he really was ready to kill Tyson at a moment's notice? Besides that, what else happened this year?

I started to summarize this year as I picked JAden up to stuff the golden cracker in his mouth.

We had managed to end our school year with a complete disaster.

Camp Half-Blood was in serious trouble and Chiron had told me not to do anything about it.

I didn't feel very thankful, but I took my dinner, as was customary, up to the bronze brazier and scraped all of it into the flames.

"Poseidon and Athena," I murmured, "accept my offering."

And send me some advice while you're at it, I prayed silently. Please.

The smoke from the burning pizza changed into something fragrant—the smell of a clean sea breeze with wildflowers mixed in and then I smelt that new book smell, and a large library—but I had no idea if that meant my father and or mother was really listening.

I went back to my seat. I didn't think things could get much worse. But then Tantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn to get our attention for announcements.

"Yes, well," Tantalus said, once the talking had died down. "Another fine meal! Or so I am told."

As he spoke, he inched his hand toward his refilled dinner plate, as if maybe the food wouldn't notice what he was doing, but it did. It shot away down the table as soon as he got within six inches.

"And here on my first day of authority," he continued, "I'd like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture, er, interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."

Dionysus clapped politely, leading to some halfhearted applause from the satyrs. Tyson was still standing at the head table, looking uncomfortable, but every time he tried to scoot out of the limelight, Tantalus pulled him back. "And now some changes!"

Tantalus gave the campers a crooked smile. "We are reinstituting the chariot races!"

Murmuring broke out at all the tables—excitement, fear, disbelief.

"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."

"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," someone at the Apollo table called.

"Yes, yes!" Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning! The first race will be held in three days' time. We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?"

An explosion of excited conversation—no KP for a whole month? No stable cleaning? Was he serious? Then the last person I expected to object to did so.

"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table. Some of the campers snickered when they saw the YOU MOO, GIRL! sign on her back.

"What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—"

"Ah, the hero of the day," Tantalus exclaimed. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"

Clarisse blinked, then blushed. "Um, I didn't—"

"And modest, too." Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?"

"But the tree—"

"And now," Tantalus said, as several of Clarisse's cabin mates pulled her back into her seat, "before we proceed to the campfire and sing-along, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Skylah Jade Sayboune, and Jaden Deanglo Sayboune have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here."

Tantalus waved a hand toward Tyson. Uneasy murmuring spread among the campers. A lot of sideways looks at me. I wanted to kill Tantalus.

"Now, of course," he said, "Cyclopes have a reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normal circumstances, I would release this beast into the woods and have you hunt it down with torches and pointed sticks. But who knows? Perhaps this Cyclops is not as horrible as most of its brethren. Until it proves worthy of destruction, we need a place to keep it! I've thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous. Hermes's cabin, possibly?"

Silence at the Hermes table. Travis and Connor Stoll developed a sudden interest in the tablecloth. I couldn't blame them. The Hermes cabin was always full to bursting. There was no way they could take in a six-foot-three Cyclops.

"Come now," Tantalus chided. "The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?"

Suddenly everybody gasped. Tantalus scooted away from Tyson in surprise. All I could do was stare in disbelief at the brilliant green light that was about to change my life—a dazzling holographic image that had appeared above Tyson's head.

With a sickening twist in my stomach, I remembered what Annabeth had said about Cyclopes, They're the children of nature spirits and gods…Well, one god in particular, usually… Swirling over Tyson was a glowing green trident—the same symbol that had appeared above me the day Poseidon had claimed all three of my trio.

There was a moment of awed silence. Being claimed was a rare event. Some campers waited in vain for it their whole lives. When I'd been claimed by Poseidon last summer, everyone had reverently knelt.

But now, they followed Tantalus's lead, and Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"

Everybody laughed except Annabeth and a few of my other friends. Tyson didn't seem to notice. He was too mystified, trying to swat the glowing trident that was now fading over his head. He was too innocent to understand how much they were making fun of him, how cruel people were. But I got it. I had a new cabin mate. I had a monster for a half-brother.

I couldn't help but want to yell "Hug me brotha!". Luckily I managed to fight this urge down.

If Percy and Tyson got close enough, they could be exactly Drake and Josh.

ungravyedPancake: A woodchuck would chuck as much wood as a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.

It's fine if you don't keep up your end, I know what that's like. The girl twin, Skylah, will be getting a weapon and finding her own offensive power that is quite handy. Jaden would have been far more interesting if you had read the first one because I didn't have to nerf his so his sister doesn't get outshined, this story is hers!

No, I have thought about becoming a prison warden, but now I'm thinking about it.

Hope you enjoy your pizza.