Chapter Four

Ancient Words and New Clothes

Stopping, I reached out my hand, I knew what I was doing.

And yet I didn't. It was an instinctive, unconscious action. I barely could feel the action, but it lifted my right hand upwards, and my mouth moved of its own accord.

I spoke the ancient words.

"Vos qui sunt pro me stant, vestri animus genuflectate."

A gasp echoed around the camp, and I realized that it came not from one person, but from every person in the camp. Many of them seemed to be struggling to find breath, clutching at their chests. A pang of fear struck at my heart, and a strange prickling tug yanked at my own chest. For a moment, I stood with my hand outstretched, and then, with a sudden thought, wiggled my fingers.

People groaned in pain as they found their own fingers moving in perfect sync with my own. I raised my other hand, and they raised theirs.

I brought my hands down,

Shriek.

They brought their hands down.

I smiled,

Groan.

They smiled.

I blinked,

Gasp.

They blinked.

I݇⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

"Jason stop it!"

I⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

"Jason!"

I screamed.

Clutching my head, the tugging sensation terminated, and people all around me dropped to the ground in relief. I quickly shut my mind to the pounding inflow of thoughts that assailed me, I had somehow stopped the flow when they were under my control. Under my control. Oh no. . . No no no no no.

I slumped down onto the ground, and passed out.

I awoke sometime in the morning, sunlight streaming through a window. I knew it was the morning because of a circular bronze (I assumed it was bronze) device hanging on a wall that fortunately worked similarly to a modern clock. It worked slightly different from a normal analog clock, but I blamed it on the strange obsession with Roman style architecture I had seen throughout the camp. I say camp, but it was more comparable to a small city.

The bed I was laying in was wrapped up in brilliant white sheets, and a thick pillow rested underneath my head. Hazel sat beside the bed with a round, Asian looking boy with close cropped black hair. The boy wore a weathered breastplate over a purple t-shirt, and a rich purple cape attached to his shoulders with gleaming gold clasps, lined with intricate carvings. He looked concerned about something, as did Hazel. They smiled when they realized that I was awake.

The boy spoke first.

"I'm glad to see that you are doing well, Jason." When he said "Jason," there seemed to be something that I wasn't catching behind the name. Something mournful. He continued on, saying, "I am⎯⎯⎯"

"Frank Zhang, Co-Praetor with Reyna Ramírez-Arrellano." I finished, cutting him off after having accessed his mind as he said his first few words. He looked startled for a moment, but then nodded.

"Ah, yes, Hazel told me of your power, as a matter of fact, that's why I'm here." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Reyna and I will be holding a senate gathering later this morning to determine your future here at Camp Jupiter. It is unfortunate that we must discuss this, but your abilities have caused quite an uproar. The ability to control water, or fire, or even lightning and wind is one thing, but the power to control people is another matter entirely. We must learn whether you are able to control this ability before a final decision can be made concerning your life here. The gathering today will be centered around whether you will be allowed to continue to stay here. Later on, if you are allowed to stay, we will focus on helping you control your ability by whatever means necessary in order to help you through your life as a demigod. If it is found that there is no way to control your power, we unfortunately will have no choice but to forbid you from living here." He furrowed his brow for a moment, and smiled again.

"I know it sounds bad, but don't focus on that. There is a good chance you will be accepted, and then you will be taught to harness the gift you have." He nodded, and exited the room to prepare for the council. Hazel stood up, smiled, and whispered "Good luck," and walked out of the room. A moment later she popped back through the door and said, "Oh, I forgot. Your clothes are in a box under the bed. You might want to hurry, the senate starts in half an hour. I'll take you there when you're ready." I nodded and she left the room.

As I got ready, I realized that that the room was part of a two room coffee shop, one room per story. The scent of espresso beans filtered up through the cracks in the walls. I had always loved that smell, although I never got the chance to have actual coffee, (monsters were always clogging up the lines at Starbucks, Dutch Bros. you know, all the good places).

I found the box of clothes Hazel had mentioned, which included a pair of dark-wash jeans and the same kind of purple t-shirt that Frank had been wearing under his breastplate. The shirt was imprinted with a gold laurel wreath, and the letters "S.P.Q.R." Below them the shirt read, "Camp Jupiter." I threw the garments on, and stepped out into a small stairwell.

Hazel was waiting outside, and bought me my first cup of coffee. I took the cup to my lips and swallowed the entire thing. It was terrible, but somehow there was something good about it. It was like Danish butter cookies, they were bland, but you couldn't stop eating them. I had learned that the hard way a couple years back when I found an unopened tin of them by a trash can. I sat there, eating them for so long that I almost didn't hear the monsters walking up behind me.

I thanked her and we walked through the camp towards the farther edge of it, where the buildings were taller and more ornate. After about fifteen minutes, we reached a thick white line drawn across the cobblestone path. Terminus popped into existence in front of us, his blunt nose wrinkling in disgust when he saw me. I nodded curtly and lowered my head. Terminus growled,

"Weapons?"

"Nope." Hazel responded, dragging me forward. A little girl that I hadn't seen before looked down sadly at an empty platter where I assumed the weapons would have gone if we would have had them. She looked a little too mournful to not have weapons to hold.

Terminus scowled angrily, but let us pass, muttering curses behind my back as we walked away from the white line. When the little girl asked him what he meant by those words, he smiled and said that she wasn't old enough to know yet, but he would tell her sometime.

As we walked along, my thoughts turned towards my place in all of this. What was I to them? What was I to myself? What did I want in this situation? It was all too much to process. Did I want to be here? Yes, I did. But out there, where children like me, now as I know them to be called "demigods," perished in the night to malevolent creatures and deities. I closed my eyes as I remembered the shrieks in the dead of night. And then, in a flash of agony, I remembered the same choking sobs and screams of those I'd held in my control that night.

What did I want?

Suddenly, Hazel's voice broke through my ponderings,

"We're here."