Hello guys!

I have LUNAR BREAK! HIP HIP HOORAY!

Literally TWO days, but I can PROBABLY finish this until then.

HOPEFULLY.

Keep reading!


THREE OLD LADIES KNIT THE SOCKS OF DEATH

I sighed. Socks of death? Either this guy was a serious over-reactor, or he had seen the *snicker* Fates. Like that would EVER happen!

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually, they were over quickly.

The Mist must be working overtime, trying to keep up with all the monster Percy must be attracting.

This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle.

Aw, poor Percy. Then again, I had it WAY worse than him- so I shouldn't be sad for him.

For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me.

Nope. It's the MIST that's playing tricks on the CAMPUS.

The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr- a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on the bus at the end of the field trip- had been our pre-algebra teacher until Christmas.

They ARE totally convinced.

Have a brain, will you? Oh, right. Your brain is made of sea sewage.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho.

It got so that I almost believed them- Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

HA! I bet Grover would mess everything up.

But Grover couldn't fool me.

KNEW IT!

When I mentioned Mrs. Dodds, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist.

But I knew he was lying.

Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.

Intelligent much, shark boy?

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat.

Okay, I felt bad for saying those things now.

I could relate, thinking about those pricking spider legs, the terror, the nightmares...

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room.

A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy.

One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

I sighed.

At these times, I was ashamed of my godly relatives. Why, why, WHY did they have to include mortals in their squabbles?

They would look back at a time and think, ha, remember, we fought about that, wanna do it again, it was fun, when MILLIONS of mortals died in those fights.

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs.

I was horrified. Ds? Fs?

That was a foreign language to me.

I got mostly Bs and Cs, maybe As once in a while, because of my Greekness combined with my smartness.

I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends.

Well, I could definitely forgive him for doing that.

I mean, what kind of name is Bobofit?

I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Erm... not so good.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped.

Ooh... I have a feeling this will be GOOD.

I called him an old sot.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

He called his TEACHER an old drunk!

This is so good.

Okay, Percy Jackson, I forgive you for having Fs.

I wasn't sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

I bet it did!

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official:

I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Oh, that's so sad. This is all because of the Mist and the monster and- GROVER.

If only Grover could have lied better and convinced Percy!

Then Percy would have been more focused...

Anyway.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was homesick.

Home...sick?

H...o...m...e...s...i...c...k

H-o-m-e-s-i-c-k-n-e-s-s.

Wikipedia:

Homesickness is the distress caused by being away from home. Its cognitive hallmark is preoccupying thoughts of home and attachment objects. Sufferers typically report a combination of depressive and anxious symptoms, withdrawn behavior, and difficulty focusing on topics unrelated to home.

Makes no sense.

Why would anyone want to go back home?

Maybe... Google?

experiencing a longing for one's home during a period of absence from it.
"he was homesick for America after five weeks in Europe"

Um. Longing for home?

My head is spinning.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties.

Well, I guess that makes sense.

I mean, he doesn't like his stepdad, at least. We have that in common.

I don't like my stepmom.

And yet... there were things I'd miss at Yancy.

The view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees.

Pine trees.

DID NOT NEED THAT!

Gods... Thalia.

I let so bad all of a sudden.

I hadn't thought about her, in, what, ages?

I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little strange.

A little strange?

You got that right.

I worried how he'd survive Latin class next year without me.

That... won't be his biggest worry.

I'd miss Latin class, too- Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith I could do well.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for.

I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me, about Latin being life or death for me.

(This was part of the part I skipped in the pre-algebra teacher)

I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

I groaned.

He didn't mean Latin, fish face!

He'd meant mythology!

The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room.

Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards.

There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon,

exCUSE me?

Chiron is a great centaur, coincidentally the same centaur that is teaching YOU!

Charon is just an Underworld creep.

or Polydictes and Polydeuces.

Okay, that was fair.

Polydeuces was another name for Pollux, a child of Zeus in the Argo.

Polydictes was the king of an island, and he ordered Perseus to bring the head of Medusa to him.

Perseus...Percy...

Huh.

They have similar names.

and conjugating those Latin verbs?

Forget it.

I paced the rooms, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, thousand-year-old eyes.

I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson.

I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book.

I'd never asked a grown-up for help before.

Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam.

I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried.

Well, he was nice, I'll give you that.

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them ere dark and empty, but Mr. Brunnner's office was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

I have a bad feeling about this.

I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question.

A voice that was most definitely Grover's said "...worried about Percy, sir."

Oh NO.

I froze.

I'm usually not an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if your best friend is talking about you to an adult.

Eesh.

Still, if it was Chiron, I wouldn't do anything.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Still!

I inched closer.

"...alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by telling him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."

NO!

PERCY IS RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR, YOU-

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

"Sir, he saw her..."

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

Yeah, I thought, if Grover wasn't such a terrible liar.

"Sir, I... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

That would mean another Thalia.

I would never wish that on anyone, not even a Poseidon kid.

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

OH GODS!

The mythology book dropped out of my hands and hit the floor.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

Okay... so he finds out he's a half-blood here?

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed into the hall.

Maybe not.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

CHIRON!

Poor Percy is going to be scared out of his wits- not like he HAS wits.

I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door.

A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

Oh no...

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the summer solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn..."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying as his Latin exam noted like he'd been there all night.

Hey! At least he was studying!

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to be ready for this test?"

I didn't answer.

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just... tired."

Yeah, I bet.

Tired of being lied to!

Grover, just fess up already. It doesn't matter what Chiron says now.

Percy is so fed up. Can't you see?

I turned so he couldn't see my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

Don't we all?

But one thing was clear:

Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger.

Doofus!

You are in danger!

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam,

Three hours?

Athena's owl!

That was bad.

my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside.

For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

What was?

"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's... it's for the best."

Gods, Percy will take that the wrong way!

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, the others taking the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

Zeus, I hated Nancy.

I mumbled, "Okay, sir."

"I mean..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

My eyes stung.

Oh, Percy.

CHIRON! You made Percy feel so bad!

You are NOT good with words.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it.

See? He feels horrible!

After saying he believed in me all year, now he was telling me I was destined to get kicked out.

No, Percy!

Chiron didn't mean it like that. He meant that you're a demigod, you can't be normal by mortal standards!

"Right," I said, trembling.

I bit my lip.

I couldn't help but be sorry for Percy, even if he was a salt spew.

I mean, a teacher telling you that you deserve to get kicked out?

Harsh.

"No, no." Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say is... you're not normal, Percy. You don't belong. That's nothing to be-"


SPOILER: I added the 'you don't belong part' because I just thought it would raise the tension. You guys don't like it, skip it.


"Thanks," I blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me."

"Percy-"

But I was already gone.

Oh jeez...

That was sad.

Seriously sad.

Not that I'm crying. Why would I?

Totally...not...crying...

Okay, so what if I am?

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans.

One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month.

They were juvenile delinquents, but they were rich juvenile delinquents.

Their daddies were executives, or ambassadors, or celebrities.

I was a nobody, from a family of nobodies.

Percy.

DO NOT LET ANYONE HEAR YOU SAY THAT.

The gods would blast your head off if you told them they were nobodies.

Idiot.

They asked me what I would be doing this summer and I told them I was going back to the city.

What I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or telling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.

(and here I'm going to pause and restart tomorrow, because I've been working on this for, what, 2 hours?)

(me back!)

Oh, that's sad.

On top of everything Percy has to deal with, his family is poor, too?

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."

They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

Oh gods, that's so sad!

Ignoring Percy, the homesick son of a poor mother?

I couldn't help but feel bad for him, even if he was a whale weight.

The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to.

Did Grover ask Percy to Camp Half-Blood?

Gods of Olympus, I hoped so.

He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

Aw, so he's not going to Camp Half-Blood.

I should have known.

It's impossible, anyway, for him to go there.

Grover didn't even tell him about it!

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers.

It occurred to me that he's always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen.

Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased.

Yeah, if 'getting teased' is the same as being attacked and shredded to itty bitty pieces.

But there was nobody to tease him in the Greyhound.

What about a million monsters that have picked up your scent?

Chiron can only protect you so much, Percy.

He can't follow you around Manhattan, can he?

So...

JUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!

Not that I care.

In fact, I'm hoping that you get attacked.

Totally.

Completely.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.

I said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

PERCY!

Grover will be scared out of his shaggy hindquarters!

Nincompoop.

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Wha- what do you mean?"

I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam.

Well, at least he has some sense.

Or else Grover will assume the worst, maybe that Percy's dad is a mind-reading god.

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh...not much.

How about pretty much everything?

What's the summer solstice?"

He winced. "Look, Percy... I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers..."

"Grover-"

Don't you see you're making it worse, Grover?

He already knows that you think he's in danger, everything!

If you keep lying to him...

He's going to misunderstand.

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds..."

Yeah, and you're making him even more stressed!

Gah, Grover, you're so stupid yet with such good intentions...

Keeping Percy alive until next fall?

You know how much that's going to hurt Percy?

Lying to his face, telling him that you thought he was 'overstressed' after he heard you say something about keeping him alive?

"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar."

His ears turned pink.

"Oh gods, so true!" I laughed.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card.

"Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

"What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um... summer address."

Liar, liar, god of fire!

Instead of pants on fire.

No insult to you, Hephaestus.

It's just, he had the most cheating, lying relationship with his wife.

So instead of pants on fire, it becomes 'god of fire'.

"Okay," I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion."

He nodded." Or... if you need me."

"Why would I need you?"

Ooooh!

OUCH.

Of course you need him, Percy! He is your protector, the only reason you're alive, did you forget, I, I- I AM JUST SO MAD AT YOU, I can't believe you, I thought you were nice, thought you were friends with Grover, why the why did you say that, it's going to break his heart and remind him of Thalia, how could you do that, you're a rotten friend, I hate you, I can't believe I thought you might be okay, of course you're not, after all you're the son of Lord Fishy, I just-

It came out harsher than I meant to.

THAT DOESN'T MATTER!

It just MATTERS that you hurt his feelings!

Maybe it didn't sound like you wanted, but did you really have to say that?

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I- I kind of have to protect you."

I stared at him.

All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him.

Okay, that makes sense...

I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me.

He does, Percy!

He does, he does, he does!

All his chances rest on you, Percy, and you're being so rude.

"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you defending me from?"

Hmm, let me think?

What about... monsters that want to kill you?

Or are you a big boy now? Can you live without Camp Half-Blood?

I knew it was mean, but I couldn't help but be mad at him.

He had been so incredibly mean to Grover, my best friend!

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotting eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

Some monster at work, no doubt.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off.

Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.

MONSTER ALERT!

We were on a stretch of country road- no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars.

That must hurt Grover, being so near litter and not being able to do anything about it.

Poor Grover.

On the other side, across four lames of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice.

There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.

Old ladies...

Death socks...

Fates..?

No, it can't be.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted another. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

YARN?

Definitely...the...Fates...

I'm having trouble breathing.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at me.

HE'S GONNA DIE!

But no, there are SO MANY PAGES left, but what if the rest is about how he dies and torture, monsters eating him alive, GAH, I don't knowww!

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that all the blood had drained from his face.

Poor Grover, he's going to lose his one and only chance.

I'll say...

Can't there be an acception?

I mean, a son of Poseidon, right?

So...

Let me think.

If I convinced Chiron (which is relatively easy because it's Grover, of all satyrs) and then he could persuade Mr. D by saying, hmm, I don't know, maybe that all satyrs are supposed to be under his protection?

Then we could vote against in the Elder Council...not me, of course, I can't.

But maybe someone else?

I'll ask a few of the dryads.

"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man-"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"

Not funny, Percy! Not funny at ALL.

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

I groaned.

I was a satyr now?

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors- gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears.

I heard Grover catch his breath.

I'm 'catching my breath too over here!

I'M TRYING!

I CAN'T BREATHE...

Choking...

Is he really going to die?

The 'okay' son of Surf Dude?

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there."

SWEATING IN INEVITABLY BETTER THAN DYING!

But still... it's no use.

When the Fates want you to see something, you will see it.

Even if you're on the other side of the planet.

Hats off to Grover for trying anyway.

"Come on!" he pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.

GETTA MOVE ON!

HUP HUP!

Across the road, the ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic.

DUH!

That's your lifeline being snipped, dummy!

You fool.

Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for- Sasquatch or Godzilla.

Only you, my salty friend.

I mean, who else, who else in the whole world would think of that when they have been decreed to DIE!?

*huge sigh*

Only the son of a certain sea god.

More like a flea god.

Ha!

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment.

The bus shuddered, and the engine roared to life.

The Fates have done what they wanted to.

No reason for them to, ahem, delay, the mortals on their way.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

A bit too late, don't you think, bus driver?

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu.

No!

He can't die right away!

Why the flu?

Such a simple death...

Surely Grover can't be blamed for the flu?

Well, maybe he can.. 'keep the demigod safe, Grover! That includes making sure he sanitizes..."

I can just imagine that.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

Ohhh okay.

Since both of them are like that...

it's probably just an after-effect of meeting the Fates.

You're not going to die, Percy!

Hooray! (or hurray to those of you that use that)

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this the part where you tell me I die?" I said, trying to act out Percy.

A few Athena kids glanced at each other like, is she okay?

For your information, yes, I am.

"What are you not telling me?"

Huh.

Smarter answer than I ever thought he'd say.

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

Um, what about... three helpless grannies with poor eyesight who don't have the power to make proper socks?

Or will you surprise me again, Percy Jackson?

"You mean the old ladies?

Nope, ignorant Percy is back again.

What is it about them, man? They're not like... Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds.

Really?

How could simple grandmothers with the power to control every living being's destiny be worse than a creepy judge? (don't yell at me if they're not judges, because i don't wanna go and search that up)

"Just tell me what you saw."

YOUR OWN DEATH, MAYBE?

(I know Annabeth is being sassy but she's just really worried about Percy {she doesn't know..shh!} and is super frustrated that he doesn't understand the full meaning of the Fates)

How stupid can this Percy kid be?!

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't.

It was something else, something almost- older.

You don't say?

How could an ancient warding gesture be... old?

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?"

But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.

Ya think!?

PERCY JACKSON, I HAVE PUT UP WITH YOUR INSOLENT WAYS FOR A LONG TIME!

READING THIS BOOK IS TOUGH ON MY DYSLEXIC EYES, BUT I PUT UP WITH IT BECAUSE YOU'RE A DEMIGOD LIKE ME!

BUT YOU HURT GROVER, ARE AN UNGRATEFUL MORON, AND NOW YOU DON'T THINK ANYTHING OF YOUR DEATH!

YOU-

I AM NOT READING THIS BOOK! EVERRRRR!


One day later:

*picks up book*

"Huh." I said. "Wonder why I stopped reading it. Ohhhh. I was mad at Percy for... GAH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU, PERCY! BUT I WANT TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT SO BAD!"

"Curse youuuuuuuuuu!"


"This is not happening," Grover mumbled.

He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like last time."

"What last time?"

Grover-

I AM SENDING YOU A LETTER.


Dear Grover,

Please be very careful when talking to demigods. You don't know what I'm talking about. But imagine that I will punch your horns off whenever you say something creepy. So don't say things like, "last time" and whatnot.

Your friend,

Annabeth


"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

True.

Luke and Thalia... they never got past sixth grade. (I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS CORRECT! IF NOT, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!)

I got away fast and didn't have to face that.

"Grover," I said, because he was really starting to scare me. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

Grover, Grover, Grover.

You're going to sound like a creep! Or a stalker!

Maybe a creepy stalker!

A stalking creep?

Whatever!

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised him he could.

Strange...?

STRANGE?

This is life or death!

No time for thinking stuff is strange!

Stupid sea kid.

"Is this like a superstition or something?"

Try myth or godly forces or divine power.

Still not close to what the Fates are.

No answer.

"Grover- that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean someone's going to die?"

Wow Percy!

Figured that already?

I'm impressed.

Seriously.

Chiron told me that, and I didn't fully grasp it until he told me that if I met them, I was probably going to die.

Harsh but true.

And Percy found that out all by himself?

I'm surprised.

He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.


That's the end of another chapter!

Yay!

It's right now Friday... *sweats*

I wanted to get it done on Thurday, when I started this thing, but oh well.

I'm juggling school, fanfiction, fictionpress, and homework.

You can only expect so much from me.

As always, review, like, favorite, whatever.

Bon voyage!