(A/N Thank you for all your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. I'm getting a clearer idea of where I want this to go as I go along. Let me know if you have any input.)
Of course, Percy's hopes for a quiet campfire were dashed rather quickly. He was the talk of the camp, and not for a good reason either. His father wasn't supposed to have kids, so his very existence was a crime; his display at capture the flag marked him as powerful, so everyone wanted to know where he fell in the pecking order; and Clarisse had guessed an obvious fault of his and dared him to sneak into the Big House attic. He couldn't resist a dare when the bully pointed out two others who she'd torment if he didn't comply.
With a heavy sigh he found a way to scale the building and gain access to the attic. Luke, who he'd paired with during capture the flag, cautioned him against it before he started, but he brushed off his concern; he was used to being between a bully and a broken rule.
Before long he was looking around the attic and spotted a lot of...interesting things.
Namely a mummy.
Not like a Walmart mummy either. This thing was a dehydrated husk of a person dressed like a hippie and was more than a little gross.
"What are you?" he muttered, and jumped back in surprise as green misr poured from its mouth. A voice inside his own head answered his rhetorical question.
I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach seeker, and ask.
Ask? Ask what?
He ran over her words again. She spoke prophecies, like the quests in (not so mythical) myths?
He considered what he could ask her. What prophecy he could want. His dual identity came to mind. The biological son of a 'Big Three' Greek god, and the adopted son of the strongest Egyptian magician in the House of Life. A conundrum to be sure.
"What is my destiny?"
You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.
You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.
You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.
And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.
He stood there slack-jawed for a moment until he realized this was what he was intended to matter how ominous it sounded.
He had a quest.
He stumbled down the stairs to find Chiron surprised that he'd been in the attic.
"Are you...quite well?"
"Uh...no." Percy related his dare, the mummy, and the prophecy.
Chiron's face was grave as Percy recounted his evening. And then they decided Chiron would meet Amos alone in the morning as a quest was not to be ignored. Chiron offered a weapon from his father and made his suggestions on who to take and Percy deferred to his wisdom as he asked Annabeth and Grover to accompany him.
.
"Percy's not with you." A broken voice spoke from behind him.
"I'm afraid not."
"But he's alright?" The emotion behind his query was unmistakable.
"Last I saw him, yes. Are there prophecies in Egyptian lore, Mr. Amos?"
"He's on a quest?" He surmised in surprise.
"Yes. On a dare he snuck in to see the oracle. She has sent him west."
"So I won't know if he's okay until he gets back."
"He seemed quite gifted and he couldn't have better companions at his side."
"Will he… He's my son. He's been my son for nine years now. Are you…"
"I have no interest in taking your son from you Mr. Amos. And his father would not be allowed to even if that were his intent." He breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's just Amos. Amos Kane, actually, but Amos is sufficient."
"Of course."
"So what do you suggest then?"
"His summers could be spent training. If he or his father asks I would suggest allowing them to bond. It isn't wise to refuse a god anyway."
"Summers. I suppose I can deal with summers. And god or not my allowing him liberties with Percy relies on Percy wanting it." Chiron smiled.
"I am glad Percy came to you. Even if it makes some things more difficult."
"May I enquire where you live?"
"Brooklyn House. Twenty-First Nome. It's like-"
"An Egyptian safe house. I've been acquainted with magicians in the past."
"Oh. I was unaware we had any Greek encounters recently. When I learned of your existence I was told the House's last acquaintance was from two centuries ago."
"Mmm. Yes. That seems about right. Muḥammad ʿAlī was excellent at avoiding Napoleon's war."
"But you're…"
"A lot older than I appear," he smiled.
"Right…"
.
It would be a lot easier to go along with the quest if it was with anyone else. Literally anyone.
An exploded bus with three Kindly Ones, a mute sphinx, and an empty stomach later Annabeth remained distrustful of the son of Poseidon. He couldn't have been a child of Zeus, or even Hades. No. Poseidon.
Not to mention he had the most ridiculous knowledge base that she could discern. It was obvious he didn't know about his Greek origins until he made it to camp, but he was entirely unphased by the attacking monsters. She'd never seen a sphinx like that in all her studies and argued about what its weak spot would be, but he automatically knew how to take it down-as if he'd dealt with one before. When they talked about how things worked in their world he'd nod along, ask a question, and then say "like a-" or "kinda like-" and then cut himself off.
She didn't like it.
She didn't like him.
She didn't like his dad.
And right now she really didn't like Chiron for encouraging him to take her on this quest, no matter how badly she's been itching to get out of camp for the past several years.
What made it worse was when she remembered his face as they left camp.
He wore a mournful look as he put his hand on Thalia's tree. She asked him about it and he just shook his head and mumbled something about "she was always the brave one."
She badgered him for a while about if he knew her, but he kept saying no and seemed really uncomfortable.
Good. She was glad he was uncomfortable.
The thought and smell of cheeseburgers was the only thing that was lightening her sour mood. She had no intentions of thanking Percy Jackson for saving her life and she was anxious to distract Grover from trying to extract such a civility.