There were several things at Camp that intrigued me but what really caught my eye were the kids practicing with a spear. I was watching them one day when Luke came up behind me. "Interested in that?" I shrugged, half listening to him. "Clarisse has one—an electric one that's a gift from her dad—she calls it Maimer but everybody calls it Lamer behind her back." I nodded, a dangerous idea formulating in my mind.

I was walking off the archery fields when I spotted the bulky form that could only be one person. "Hey, Clarisse!" she turned annoyed.

"I should pummel you now and save you the breath," she growled.

Ignoring her comment I swallowed and asked the question, "Can you teach me how to fight with a spear?" After starting at me a moment she burst out in laughter.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I want you to. How does tomorrow morning sound?" Smiling I turned on my heel and walked away, a bit more bounce in my step than before. If I have the courage to ask for Clarisse's help with something I can do anything.

I was a bit surprised when I found Clarisse waiting at the sword fighting arena the next morning. A pile of spears lay on the ground beside her.

"I was wondering if you were going to show up," she stood, tossing a spare to me. "Don't make this a waste of my time." She showed me where to grip the shaft and how to balance the weight in my hand. That was all we had time for before she was called away by her siblings. "Tomorrow," she said.

"Tomorrow," I smiled.

The days passed quickly after that with lessons with Clarisse in the morning and a busy day afterwards. Each morning we reviewed from the previous days and added one or two new concepts. It was a bit intimidating working with her. If I made a mistake or did not understand she became frustrated. Often in the beginning she was barking orders at me by the end.

"Give me some slack!" I yelled at her once. "I'm not perfect and I'm not like you! You're supposed to be helping me learn!" I thought she was going to stab me or slap me or walk away but sighed heavily.

"Fine, I'll try to be more patient with you if you actually do what I tell you."

"Deal." We met each morning until she was satisfied with my form on both offense and defense.

"That's not enough in a fight," she continued, "You need to know how to throw. In ancient Greece soldiers carried spears, transitioning to swords after it was thrown." The next sessions were throwing stance and form. When I had convinced her I could throw in a straight line she had me drag two dummies from the storage. I placed them at opposite ends of the arena and practiced over and over. By the end of the month I was confident in the skills I was learning; by the end of the next month I was sparing against Clarisse herself. Word traveled around Camp and people would come and watch us.

"You're making quite the audience," she noted.

"They probably want to see you loose," I retorted, blocking her thrust with the shaft. I thrust the head forward, flipping the butt of her spear upwards. It came out to another draw like the day before. I was pleased with myself for doing so well in a short amount of time. Two months ago when I arrived I knew no one. Now I had many friends here and was still growing in knowledge. I still missed Dad and my quiet home terribly but felt this was where I belonged. As much as I missed my old life I knew I could never and would never return to it.

"You are dong incredible!" Annabeth caught up with me afterwards.

"Thanks," I smiled, "I could do even better but the spears don't feel right."

"Then I think it's time you had your own," she said with a glint in her stormy eyes. I followed her behind the Athena cabin to a small shed. Annabeth unlocked the weaponry shed and I stepped in, hit by a blast of foul odor; the smell of mustiness filled the dingy shed. "Anything you want to look at, feel free," she told me.

A glimmer in the corner caught my eye. Walking over I saw it was a shield the color of moonlight. The leather straps fit comfortably on my arm. I noticed a small quarter-sized circle on the back of the shield. Curious, I turned it and jumped backwards in surprise as the shield shrank into a bracelet with the small circle. Upon turning it counterclockwise, the bracelet expanded back into the shield.

"Where did you get this?" I asked.

Annabeth shrugged. "Looks like something the Hunters of Airtimes would use. But who knows? Go ahead and keep it if you want. Anything else?" I scanned the shed again and saw a spear, propped up in the corner. But it might as well have a spotlight on it, the way it stood out to me.

"That one," I pointed. Annabeth picked it up and held it out to me. The smooth shaft fit my hand nicely, not too wide or too narrow. The head fanned out from the tip, the celestial bronze glowing in the dim lighting. But the strangest and most beautiful thing was the handle: made of the same material and color as the shield bracelet, with the same intricate designs. "I love it."

Now we were talking.

Later that afternoon I was sitting on the stretch of beach looking out over Long Island Sound. I was writing a letter to Dad as I had done every week. I wrote about lessons with Clarisse, the latest capture-the-flag.

I really miss you and hope everything is going well. Please don't forget to feed my fish and tell them I will come home again. I love you and miss you. Stay safe.

Love, Caitlin XOXOXO

I had told Dad in my first letter home I had been claimed by Mom, though I left out who she was. I was not sure yet how to break that news to him. He deserved to know.

P.S. My mom is Hera.

Skimming over it one last time I sealed the envelope, placed a stamp on it and put all the stationary items into the shoebox I used. After dinner of pulled pork (my favorite!) I told jokes with Annabeth at the fire. When the conch horn sounded for lights out I crawled onto the cot and stared at the ceiling. I thought life was beginning to fall into a routine for me once more, that there would be a sense or normalcy for the time being. I was wrong.


In the dream a boy who seemed my age was standing on the hill below Thalia's pine tree. Grover was lying in the grass, bleeding from his head. Through the rain was the Silhouette of a monster, larger than a man. A woman who I assumed to be his mother pushed the boy out of the way as the monster charged forward. The fear in his eyes was the same I had felt the night the hellhound broke through the glass door. He did not know what was happening or why, just that something was after him and would stop at nothing.

A roar jerked me awake, bolt upright in bed. It sounded close but not in the direction of the forest. It came again and I threw the covers off and poked my head outside. Others were doing the same, looking around in confusion with sleep clouding their eyes. A woman's scream sounded and I crept out. The action seemed to be coming from the other side of Half-Blood Hill. As I watched Grover appeared over the top, unconscious and in the arms of a boy. He staggered into the valley and onto the Big House Porch. Chiron came out, followed by Annabeth. They hoisted him up and took him inside. All I could see from this distance was a head of dark, soaked hair. As he disappeared inside I caught sight of his face and gasped.

He was the same boy as in my dream.

Hi! From now on the chapters should be more interesting. I am following the general outline of the PJO series but putting my own twist on it. Hope you like it. Please comment! :)