PSA for this chapter: Don't dry-fire a bow kids. You might think I'm being dramatic, but what happens in this chapter actually happened to my boyfriend a few weeks back.

To my guest reviewer- Thank you very much for taking time to review. To everyone else- enjoy!

Chapter 8-My Dreams Are Like Acid

Luke caught me staring at the ocean again. He'd forgotten his toothbrush when going to brush his teeth, a strange thing to forget in my opinion, and came back to find me on my cot, staring out the window at the rolling waves.

It was the end of October. While not a single day at AA had been normal, I was starting to get used to the constant insanity that came from 100 demigods living and learning in one place. Sure, over the past two month I'd been stabbed, set on fire, and (briefly) kidnapped by a nymph, but I'd also made friends, kicked butt at our first swim meet, and gotten a B+ on my Ancient Greek quiz. Life was pretty good. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I truly belonged at Achilles Academy.

But every time I walked along the beach, I knew something was wrong. Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was more than that. I could feel a certain tension beneath the waves, like they were calling to me, and begging me to stay away. Every night I dropped my bluest blueberries into the fire, praying that my father would send some sign. If he wanted to keep me hidden, fine. I didn't need other people to know who he was. I just needed to know myself. I needed to know for certain because the longer I thought about it… Well, I was beginning to worry there was a reason my dad wouldn't claim me. Maybe if he did I would be in trouble… or maybe if he did he would be in trouble.

My mom seemed to think it was a bit of both. Demigods weren't supposed to use phones, even in camp, but at Chiron's prompting I had written her a few letters. The spelling in them was a mess, but she'd figured out what I was saying anyways. I almost wished she'd pretended not to understand my plea for my father's name. But she wouldn't lie to me. She knew who he was. She knew I wanted to know. But she wouldn't tell me. I love you both too much to reveal the truth, Percy. Have faith. When the time comes, you will be reunited. I am certain of it.

"Doesn't it make you angry that he won't claim you?" Luke asked, sitting down next to me, toothpaste in his hand. "Styx, it makes me angry for you!"

I shrugged. I didn't know if it made me angry, not exactly. Usually it just made me squirm. Was my dad embarrassed to claim me? Even at AA I got into way more trouble than everyone else. Maybe he was ashamed of putting his name to my problems. I wouldn't have blamed him- depressing as it sounds.

Now that Luke mentioned it though, I wondered if I should be angry. So what if I was a screwup? I was his screwup. My mom was the most wonderful, most perfect person on the planet. If I had issues- and gods, I had issues- they were his fault. He should take responsibility for his mistake, for me. That would be the godly thing to do. Though I was learning very quickly that the gods weren't always godly. My B+ in Greek was based on an essay about Arachne. Athena was the goddess of wisdom and she'd still gone off the handle. You couldn't expect the gods to act like mature and rational anything.

Thinking about it like that, I got angry. I turned back towards the sea, and muttered, "If my dad doesn't care about me then I don't care about him. Why should I be angry?"

Luke clenched his fist. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that he was holding a tube of toothpaste. It squirted out, thudding against the window and dripping down until it resembled a frowny-face.

We both broke out into hysterical laughter, and our sullen resentment of fathers was forgotten for the time. A few hours later, though, long after we'd cleaned the window and turned out the lights, I wondered more about Luke's question. Did I resent my dad? No, not really. But should I?

He'd never been there. I knew most demigods had only met their parents once or twice, but that was once or twice more than I'd met mine. He'd offered my mother pearls. Why hadn't he just offered us money? Why hadn't he just shown up, kicked Gabe to the stoop, and given us someplace to live? Even normal dads had to pay child support.

Why hadn't he stepped in every time some monster decided to attack me? The longer I stayed at AA, the more monsters I read about in class, the more I remembered. The snake I strangled as a toddler, that was right out of Hercules. But Hera had sent those snakes after Hercules, so who had sent one after me? And the strange man on the playground in third grade? I wasn't crazy. He only had one eye because he was a cyclops! The time I accidentally sent my 4th grade class for a swim at the aquarium? I'd been panicking because one of the sharks wasn't really a shark at all. I didn't know what the monster was called, but it was ugly. And it had been threatening to eat me, because I could understand sea monsters apparently. And don't even get me started upon the canon last spring. I knew I'd seen something creepy hanging around it; that was why I had gone over to look. Just last week Annabeth had told me about how keres, death spirits, hung around old battlefields looking for trouble. One of them had to have loaded the canon! In the end, it really wasn't my fault after all. None of it was.

But then why hadn't my dad stopped it? I was his son. He was supposed to protect me. Instead, he'd brought me into a dangerous world and said – here you go kid, start fighting - from the moment I was born. It wasn't fair. It was cruel. Luke was right, I had every reason to be angry.

I fell asleep burning with anger, and woke up in the middle of a fiery pit.

Immediately I panicked, turning around, looking for water to put out the flames before they consumed me. I knew I was asleep. I knew I was dreaming. But I knew if you died in your dreams you died in real life. My panic was as real as the danger.

I could feel the heat of the flames, but after a moment of panicking, I realized they were not getting closer. They held their distance, flickering taller, a rainbow of orange, red, and blue. I knew from bonfires at school that blue flames were the hottest, the most dangerous, but I struggled to believe it. Blue reminded me of my mom, of my dad even, and the vast ocean. Maybe that explained why they were so dangerous.

"Who are you?"

The voice which rang out through the cavern was deep, slow, and terrifying. My every thought evaporated. My heart stopped. I couldn't breathe.

I reached to my pants. Unsurprisingly, Riptide wasn't there. This wasn't just a dream, I knew that, but it was a dream. No sword, no matter how magical, could help me here.

It spoke again. I couldn't tell you if it was a shout or a whisper, but it shook me to my core, "Answer me, boy! I sought another and yet your power, your anger, drew me here. Whose child are you?"

I was used to people at school asking me that question. They always were referring to my godly parent, my dad. But anger spiked within me, complemented by my fear. My dad wasn't the parent who mattered. He'd never done anything for me. My mom was the one who'd raised me. My mom was the one who loved me. I was her son, "Sally Jackson!"

I was prepared for the voice to get angry, for the fire to race towards me, burn me alive. Instead it laughed, "You have spirit… the tumult of the sea. Perhaps you are what I need. We shall see."

The dream shifted. Suddenly I was standing along the magical border of the school. Annabeth and Luke sat cross-legged at my feet, looking younger, sad. Annabeth looked right up at me, and said, "I miss you."

I tried to tell her that was silly; she saw me every day. The words wouldn't come out. I could not even move my mouth. I couldn't move anything. I tried to move my arms, but found them stuck out to the side. When I looked, I wanted to scream- my arms had become the branches of a pine tree. I looked down. No, my whole body had become a pine tree.

The world shifted. I wanted to vomit. Suddenly I was standing in a giant hall lined by twelve chairs. No, not chairs, thrones. Somehow I knew I was on Mount Olympus, standing in Zeus's palace. This was the throne room of the gods, but it was empty. The chairs sat bare, and no one was around. Or so I thought.

"Percy? What are you doing here?"

I turned around, and found Luke staring at me. It wasn't the same Luke from my last dream-the scar underneath his eye, that was what had been missing before, why he looked so much younger. Now the scar was back, and for the first time ever, I found myself staring at it. I'd never asked him how he got it. I'd always just assumed it was some monster. Wasn't it always for people like us?

Luke caught me staring, and frowned, "You shouldn't be here, Percy. I'm not… you're not ready for work on this scale. I promise you, when the time comes, I'll tell you everything. We'll do this together. But for now, let me do this for you, and for Thalia and for every half-blood the gods have used and discarded!"

"I don't understand."

Luke smiled. It was such a familiar sight. I remembered how we'd laughed only a few hours before, the toothpaste all over the window, blocking my view of the sea with its frowning face.

"Good. Go back to sleep, Percy. This is for me to deal with."

I tried to obey, but I failed. I willed myself away from Luke, and found myself standing in my mom's apartment. She was sound asleep. The clock read a little past four. Suddenly the door to her room opened, and Gabe came stumbling in. He shouted, "Get up you lazy woman! A man has needs and you hardly fulfill them."

My mom stirred, and the dream shifted once more. I was back in a palace, but this was not on Olympus. A fish swam by, and I realized I was under water. I sucked in my breath- Atlantis. This was the palace of Poseidon. Why was I here?

A beautiful woman sat on a throne, attendants brushing her hair. When she looked up, I realized this was the woman I'd seen off Montauk, the one who'd told me to keep the pearls. But who was she? A friend of my father's? His sister or daughter? Knowing what I did of the gods, she could even be his wife.

I don't think she saw me. Her eyes went right through where I stood, but she started to sing softly. The tune was light, like a lullaby, but there were no children around to sing to, not that I saw at least. Still, her soft voice was enrapturing, and I listened more to the echo of it than to her words,

"White may pass through hands most mortal, but Iris's child is Amphitrite's portal.
Blue shall always bring you home, but gold returns you to the foam.
Red to combat Hecate's magic, but pink contains the springs pelagic.
Orange is for Achilles' haven, but when fleeing death, the pearl is raven.
For Theseus in purple I cloaked, my envy he did not invoke.
So listen with care my husband's child, those born of the sea are always wild."

Then a noise, like a sigh great enough to tear apart whole cities, interrupted her song. I was torn between staying this woman and going to see what it was, but my curiosity won out. I followed the noise, walking (or was it swimming) towards its source.

I found myself outside a great room, inside, a giant marble altar, piled high with offerings. Standing next to it was a man. He didn't look like much, a surfer from California, perhaps, or a Hawaiian tourist. Then he turned around. I couldn't quite make out his face. The water seemed to ripple across it, blurring it. But I knew without a doubt that this was my father.

I didn't know what to do. I considered yelling at him… and I considered dropping to my knees and begging for answers. Instead I did nothing. For a second, he did nothing either. But then he seemed to smile, and raised something in his hand to his mouth. Only as he ate it did I realize what it was- a blueberry. Then he waved his hand.

I woke up. Luke was shaking me, the alarm blaring in the background. "Percy, if you want to shower you need to go now."

I needed to shower, but my heart longed to return to my dream. My father had been there, so close I could hear his sigh. I needed to go back. I needed to wait for the currents to settle so I could see his face, ask him his name, know what it was he wanted of me.

Vaguely I remembered that there had been other dreams as well, but they seemed utterly insignificant compared to the dream of my father. I told Luke, "I'll shower tonight. Just a few more minutes."

I closed my eyes, willing sleep to fall back over me. But when I fell back asleep, I was no longer in Atlantis. I simply stood in front of my English class, reading from a PowerPoint. Everyone was sniggering, and when I looked down, I realized why. I had on no pants, just a few leaves covering my waist.

I was glad when Luke woke me up again saying I would be late for class.

I was irritable the rest of the morning. I hardly heard a word my teachers said, instead sketching in the corner of my notebook every little detail I could remember of my father. Unfortunately, I wasn't a very good drawer, and I just couldn't seem to remember his face.

Then Annabeth asked me what I was doing and I snapped. At that point, people stopped trying to talk to me. I supposed that was a good thing, but it left me feeling worse.

We did have a presentation in English. I had my pants on, luckily, but as I tried to explain the symbolism of trees in "Where the Red Fern Grows", I couldn't read my own notes. "The psychic trees…the sagamore trees…" A few of my classmates started to giggle, and I got angry. "Billy likes trees, okay! And they represent nature's answers. Or maybe he's just having an affair with a dryad. The book never says!"

People kept laughing, but at least now they weren't laughing at me. My teacher, of course, wasn't laughing, and raised a brow. I just sat back in my seat and laid my head upon the desk.

For open-block we were supposed to be shooting with the head of Apollo House, Irene. I just groaned. I was bad enough at archery on a good day, but now that I couldn't focus… my first few arrows way overshot the target, landing harmlessly in the woods. Then I somehow managed to drop the arrow just as I released the string, dry-firing my bow, the one thing we were never supposed to do. The force of the motion caused the entire shaft of the bow to shatter and explode in my hand.

Everyone closest to me dropped to the ground. A chunk of wood impaled itself into my arm. I howled and cursed; my mom would have killed me if she heard what I said. Irene was furious, refusing me any nectar even as she pulled out the wood and bandaged my arm. I protested that I hadn't meant to do it, but it didn't much matter to the girl whose bow I'd broken.

As lunch rolled around, it seemed the whole school was talking about 'Percy Jackson's meltdown'. From the head table Chiron looked at me nervously. Next to him, Mr. D glared at me. I felt like an idiot and a freak. I knew I needed to get my head on straight, but as I looked at the golden brazier before me… I scooped up everything blue we had and dumped it in, begging my father to just show his face.

Once I sat back down at the Hermes table, Luke came over. "Celia, switch places with me, will you. Percy and I need to talk."

Celia and the rest of my grade had had front-row seats to my crappy day, so she was all too happy to oblige. As Luke stared me down, I picked nervously at my food. Luke was odd like that. Most of the time he was just my friend, an older, cooler friend, yeah, but a friend. Now he was in Head-of-Hermes-House mode. Sitting in front of me wasn't the teenager who laughed at toothpaste on the window. This was the guy personally responsible for the well-being of half the school who'd be shoved into his house because their own parents didn't want them.

"Look, Percy, about last night, you really can't let it bother you like this," Luke sighed, rubbing his temple.

I knew my brain was fuzzy, but I was extra confused. How did Luke know I'd dreamt of my father? I hadn't told him. I knew that. Had I been talking in my sleep?

"I don't know what brought you there, but frankly, it's none of your business. This one is up to me. Once it's done, I promise, I'll find a place for you, but nothing can happen until at least Christmas. You need to keep your mouth shut, and not look so upset."

I blinked, and cocked my head. Finally, I managed to say something, "Luke, what are you talking about?"

Luke paused, studying me. "You don't remember coming into my dream?"

I vaguely remembered something about Luke, but I'd been so focused on my father that I hadn't bothered to remember what else I'd dreamt of. I figured I should tell Luke as much, "No. I can do that?"

"Yeah, all powerful demigods can… but if that's not what's bugging you, what is?"

I looked around. No one else was paying attention to us. Good. For some reason I didn't want anyone else knowing I had dreamt of my father. It felt important they didn't, but I trusted Luke. "I was in Atlantis, in Poseidon's palace. There was an altar with all kinds of sacrifices on it, but next to it was my dad. I know it was him because he ate the blueberries I offered to him yesterday! He really is a courtesan of Poseidon. He has to be."

Luke didn't seem particularly excited for me. He rubbed his face, touching the scar beneath his eye gently, then grabbing his necklace. It was something he wore every day- most kids did. At the end of each year you got a bead for not dying. But Luke was a senior and had more beads than most. The first one upon his necklace was a green pine tree. He gripped it tight, and looked nervously around him.

"Percy, don't tell anyone else what you saw, okay? It is very important that you don't know. If your dad really does work for Poseidon… well he shouldn't be eating off Poseidon's altar. He'd get in big trouble with his boss. And if he doesn't work for Poseidon then that means… well it just means trouble. The other gods will kill you if you're not careful, do you understand me? Promise you won't try to dream of your dad again, or tell anyone what you saw."

I gulped. Sure, people had told me before that I might be safer not knowing who my dad was, but normally Luke told me that was crap, just an excuse by which everyone could lie to me. But suddenly he looked really scared.

I wondered if he suspected what I did. There was something about the way Luke had said 'if he doesn't work for Poseidon'. Annabeth was too frightened to voice her suspicions, but I knew she'd had them from the start. I had too. Long before I'd spoken of Triton or Nerites I'd asked if Poseidon could be my dad. But that's impossible, they said. Poseidon doesn't have kids anymore. He can't.

But if he did… well that would just about explain why everyone seemed so worried about me. If Poseidon was my dad even when he wasn't supposed to have kids, the other gods would be furious. They'd punish me. Of that I knew enough myths to be certain.

For the first time, I hoped my dad wouldn't reveal himself. And I nodded, unwilling to speak aloud even to Luke our shared suspicion. He seemed to relax a bit then, and, after a second, he even smiled.

"What?" I asked. How could he go from terrified to smirking so quickly? My heart was still pounding.

"Your dad wouldn't be a courtesan of Poseidon, Percy. He'd be a courtier. Courtesans are very different."

(No, I won't tell you what the difference is. Google it yourself if you want to, but only with parent permission. But yeah, I'm glad my dad isn't that.)

Somehow, despite the dangerous undercurrents to our conversation, I felt better after my conversation with Luke. It certainly helped though that I took a little detour to the beach before swim practice.

Even as I approached the water, I could hear it calling me. The voice seemed louder than ever. I kicked off my sneakers, climbing into the foam. I didn't need to go very deep to feel infinitely better. I pulled off the bandage, and watched as the cut upon my arm healed. A few seconds later and you'd never even know I'd exploded a bow. Every sign of it had been washed away.

I looked around, checking to see if anyone was close enough to hear me. I saw an Aphrodite girl flirting with a son of Demeter down the shore, but they paid me no note. I could just barely hear her giggles carried on the wind.

I turned back to the sea. I noticed a starfish on the beach near me, struggling to get back into the water. I grabbed it, tossing it back in to safety. Then I just stood there, watching the waves roll, trying to figure out what to say.

Finally, I just let my impulsive side take over, and spoke without thinking at all, "I'm glad you like the blueberries… My mom and I have a joke about blue food. My stepdad, Gabe, he said blue food didn't exist so Mom… she just had to prove him wrong. Gabe's a jerk. He stinks, literally. I don't get how Mom can go from a god to him. I don't get how you could let her be with someone like him. Not if you cared about her. And you had to care about her. I exist. I exist and I'm not supposed to. So you had to love her. If you didn't… well then why risk it? Right? You had to love her…

"Look, Poseidon," my heart caught in my throat. "Poseidon, if you really are my dad… I get it. I get why you won't claim me. I know the gods will punish me just for existing and maybe, maybe if you keep me guessing, you can keep them guessing as well. So fine. Don't claim me. I want to hate you for it but I just can't. Maybe you're a jerk too. Maybe you're just doing the best you can. And I get that. I'm… I'm just doing the best I can as well.

"But if you're not Poseidon. If my very existence isn't going to get me killed… well then own up. Say something, please. Don't leave me like this, guessing and scared, dreaming up monsters that aren't even there. Because trust me, there are plenty that are. I don't care if you're scared of your wife or your boss or whoever. Be a man. If you can't be that much, then you're really nothing at all."

I stared at the sea for a moment longer, wondering if I was truly done. But the words had tumbled out before I could stop them, and now they left me empty, dry. For the first time, standing by the sea didn't make me feel better. It just made me feel worse.

I turned and padded back towards school. Let my father hear my words and take them to heart or not. There was nothing left for me to do. I had swim practice.