Disclaimer: The title is from Alessia Cara's Here.
CHAPTER 6: I Ask Myself What Am I Doing Here
I woke up feeling like my head was put in a blender inside a crocodile's mouth while being flattened under an elephant.
And oh my goddamn fucking gods it hurts!
Yeah, just a migraine, they said, it won't be as excruciating, they said.
I reached blindly beside me and found a cup, of what, I do not know. My head hurt to much to open my eyes.
I gulped down the drink without a thought, then just as quickly, I almost spit it out. It wasn't bad, far from bad. It was just startling. And- mmmm, Mom's infamously glorious blue cookie goodness.
Honestly, I didn't care that it was liquid. I swallowed it down quickly. Mom's cookies already made me feel good, mentally and often physically. (Don't ask.) But, this… my migraine, almost immediately, went away. I sighed in relief.
And- fuck!- memories of my previous? night hit me like a chick on a Black Friday sale.
Not pleasant, trust me.
Mrs. Dodds, Grover, Mr. Brunner- Chiron?- and Mom. Oh, my god- gods Mom…
I knew she wasn't dead. But still… it hurt thinking that she just- poof- disappeared.
Oh, and apparently Uncle Hades wasn't the only one who something precious of his was stolen. Uncle Zeus also had something stolen from him. And my… father was blamed for it, and just by being his daughter so am I.
Yes, uncles. The Fates did call me 'daughter of the sea' afterall. Poseidon, god of the Sea, Stormbringer, Earthshaker, Father of horses, and the list goes on and on, was my father. And he is so getting an ass-beating, god or not.
Gods can't cross into another god's domain without permission, or interfere directly in mortal affairs- well, more like won't, unless they feel like it. And the whole mortal-affair-is-a-big-no-no is so damn hypocritical. I mean, hello, I exist, and I know I ain't the only one- they usually tend to send demigods to do their dirty work. Or work in general.
So -bam!- I get hunted by Furies, a Minotaur, get struck by lightning, and my Mom taken hostage, all in one hella-messed-up day.
After a couple minutes of throwing thoughts around and snuggling into the first bed I touched in three days, I came to a couple of realizations.
One, Kýma wass on me though all my other weapons, except the balisongs in my hair, were on a chair across me. Seems like Kýma always returns to me.
Two, my two immortal uncles thought my father stole from them through me. And that makes me on their shitlist. Lovely.
Three, my army green sweater wasn't on me. I was wearing an orange shirt. I felt vulnerable without it. I always have with me for… good luck? But I knew it outside the room. Also, my combat boots were on my clean and folded short jeans on a chair across the room.
Four, I will do anything to get Mom back. And, on the way, I'll be helping my hopeless uncles, and try and figure out who possibly wanted World War III. I had suspicions, but let us not jump into conclusions. Bad things usually happen that way.
Finally, I could… I seriously don't know how to explain it… see… sense an aura of things, apparently? Yes. For example: Kýma. since she was the closest thing to me I had on me, it was easier to see it.
Kýma was already breathtaking. But now? Now it was magnificent. Since she was made using at least five metals and lots of precious stones, Kýma glowed, yet sucked the light at the same time. Now, she looked like a frickin' light show.
She was surrounded by a thick sea green mist, with flecks of silver, gold, bronze, black, blue, and red appearing randomly. And often overpowering, but not to the sea green, when I brushed each corresponding metal or gem. It was mesmerising.
I blinked and it was… gone. I blinked again and it was there. Blink, it was gone, if I looked directly at it. But it was still there in my peripheral vision.
I concluded that it was always there, but I think that if I wanted it to be there clear and loud, it would. If I didn't want it distracting me, it was just in the corner of my eye.
Sweet!
I looked at everything around. Almost everything had an aura. It was fantastic and new and just… exhilarating.
I heard footsteps approaching and pretended I was asleep. My heart beat slowed down incase other individuals were as capable as my satyr best friend, Grover. Still processing. Migraines suck ass.
"How is she doing?" The concerned voice of ex-Brunner drifted to me.
"She has amazing healing abilities," a young female voice said, she sounded too formal and serious for my liking. She needs loosening up. "According to Michael Yew, as soon as he washed the wounds, they began healing almost instantly. She seems to have an affinity towards water. Since even the bruises and the worst of her injuries reacted positively to the water. Though he did wrap them after putting an anti-infection paste on the worst of them.
"Though… there were other wounds. Older ones, and I'm not talking about the Kindly Ones' attack. Stab wounds, gunshot scars, scattered scratches everywhere, scorch marks, and Michael said that almost every bone in her body was fractured at some point… it's- I- it's unusual. But if you consider the arsenal she's carrying around, it makes sense.
"Most are almost completely healed, others barely visible. Michael did some anti-scarring hymns and applied creams. Something about bikinis.
"Her heart rates were a bit erratic at times and steady at others. But overall she seems stable for now. She should wake in a day or two. She did have one Hades of a concussion and lost a lot of blood," she finished her rant- report.
I could basically feel their eyes on me. My teacher didn't respond, but I knew he was curious about the battered minefield, aka my scarred skin, and how he didn't notice them before. Again, I'm just awesome like that.
"She's the one," the girl interrupted the silence. "Isn't she, Chiron?"
"Not now, child," he answered in his fatherly voice.
"What about the solstice deadline? Nothing's been normal since the Winter Solstice. And now the Summer Solstice is getting closer, and nothing is getting better, but worse," she was agitated. Apparently she hated not knowing. "Does she have anything to do with it?"
"Let us hope not," he sighed.
They left, finally. But I got to use my cool sensors. Hey, I still haven't found a cool name, okay? Cut me some slack… judgy peeps.
Brunner- Chiron, what-the-fuck-ever, had a kind, warm brown aura. But I couldn't decide between a chocolate brown or a coffee brown. Both fitted his level-headed, fatherly and wise-beyond-ages personality. Seems like coffee and chocolate are today's winners!
The other girl however was harder to read. I think it's because I never met her. Though because of my line of expertise, I have to be and am good at reading people. So it only took a few tries to see the soft yet intense grey mist and bronze streaks, probably had to do with the dagger on her thigh- I sensed it too, subconsciously, and gut instincts-y. If the bronze was part of her aura that means she's probably wickedly good with it. My gut agreed.
Though after the speculation I needed water, it was exhausting trying to force it to show on people apparently. I had no damn problem with the bloody inanimate objects. But of course individuals would be harder.
Thank you very much, aunties. I swear I almost cringed from the copious amounts of sarcasm.
Okay, ADHD won over the heavenly bed. Sigh, and I was getting used to getting comfortable. The bed was just a regular cot with a comforter, but honestly even a stack of cattle munchies - hay- sounded pretty damn comfortable.
I knew many languages. Not all fun trip-missions were in dear ol' America. I even knew a couple dead ones, including Ancient Greek, which quite frankly is way easier to read, write, and speak than all o' y'all's -hehe- English. So I knew I was in Camp Half-Blood, according to the shirt.
Sounds a bit racist at first, if you ask me. But it is true. And there was a black pegasus under the writing and laurel wreaths around it all. Creative and fitting, I guess. Ugh, a migrane's on its merry way to town.
I redid my hair to a fishtail-braided-crown held by the butterfly balisongs on the side. Some stubborn strands ran loose around my face. I put my shoulder holster back on- it functioned as a bra, since mine apparently isn't anywhere to be seen- under the baggy, short-sleeved shirt, which I tied from the front and let one of the shoulders fall off the side.
I double checked my precious babies- my knives, daggers, guns, etc.- with my cool detecting power. Still haven't thought of a good name. Shocker, yes.
No one tampered with them, but someones definitely examined them thoroughly, except for precious Kýma. I put her in a thigh holster I found in one of the drawers in this room. The blue sea serpent's ruby eyes glinted in the light, happily? I would sure hope so.
I scanned the floor with my assassin-y, spidey senses. Hehe. But no one was there.
I was on the first floor in an infirmary of some sort. I looked out the window. I was in the that big, baby-blue farmhouse. There was another floor, attic and basement.
After going through the basement and attic, I am convinced of these people's fetish for weird shit, creepy-ass mummies, and weapons. The later not very unexpected.
I decide to leave the second floor for last, gut-feeling. The first floor had two offices, the infirmary, a rec room, bathroom, duh, and kitchen, which meant rooms were one the second floor.
Second floor. Too many rooms to count. But I chose a Mr. D's room. Good choice.
Eye aam confushan… What the fuck? How in the name of Doctor Who is this room- no, no, no chamber? Suite? Yeah, one of those fit in here?
One foot was on the farmhouse's wood floors, the other was on a glowy ceramic tile.
This is a portal of some sorts from this place to mysterious Mr. D's house, pardon me, his palace. But where is here?
Mr. D turned out to be Dionysus, the wine dude, god of theater, banging, rad parties, and getting shit face drunk. My cousin. Hmm. I think I might find him cranky.
He had his signature in his big-ass bedroom almost everywhere. His aura's a multitude of purples and tiny flecks of other colors. But the rest of his house looked barely lived in, and there was some not-meant-for-me-but-for-him-obviously-duh barrier I passed when I left his room.
Nice wine collection he has. Note to self, one on the way to keep the panic away.
I stepped out and- holy fucking shit I'm on Olympus!
It was beautiful, majestic all of it; the gardens, markets, the personalized palaces around, the simple and extravagant houses, the prominent golds and whites. A marble city of goddamned awesomeness.
But the air was tense. There was an especially nasty looking storm cloud above the highest point in the divine city. The throne room probably. You know, the place where I'll probably find the pissy gods.
Yes, find. After a debate between my logical, rational and irrational, illogical parts of my mind, where the illogical ruthlessly beat the logical part to a bloody pulp, I chose fuck it, I'm going.
I was every bit Sally Jackson's daughter as I made my way silently through the city. I reached the edge, literally. A lovely more-than-a-mile-drop awaits right after fluffy clouds and mist, I think that shit holds the goddamned city in the fucking sky. What the hell?!
"Brother, please. Listen to reason," a soft, warm female voice drifted from the throne room.
"I have already made my decision, sister," a gruff voice, the same as bluey-toga from my sharknados-and-eagles-on-laxatives dream. Zeus. "If my bolt isn't returned to me by the Summer Solstice, it shall be war."
"But-," the soft female tried again but was cut off by murmurs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Someone stole the Master Bolt. Oh, oh my. And remember the Solstice deadline the girl in the infirmary mentioned? Not cool, so not cool.
Now I seriously need that bottle from Dio's wine cabinet. Maybe two, for me and whoever the hell I feel like joining me, for when I get back. That migraine was getting a bit much to ignore, and I didn't even use my spidey senses here. I had a feeling I need a hella-lot of training to be able to see through my full vision here without getting overwhelmed. Peripheral vision's not helping any with Mig the migraine.
"Ah, hell."