Airplanes have always bothered me. I hated the long-haul flights it took to visit my grandparents in Hong Kong. Even a short three-hour flight to Newark is Hell for me. Or should I say now, Tartarus? Maybe Hel with one L. I'll take it.

My parents opted not to come, so I have to fend for myself for a bit. Julian says he's staying the rest of the school year before he comes in June. A visitor in February can't be that uncommon. I scan my boarding pass, then take a seat. So far, so good. Thirty minutes of flight time and nothing much happens.

"Attention passengers," the intercom rings up. "Due to the possibility of severe weather further north, the plane is forced to stop in Charlotte, North Carolina. All tickets shall be refunded, and a complimentary flight shall be rescheduled. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Other than the fact that American Airline just offered to fly people for free, I don't fret it much. I can wait for another two days before going. Another hour or so later, the plane lands in Charlotte. I make my way to the counter and make arrangements for a flight on Thursday.

Just when I have any kind of positive thoughts, things go terribly wrong. All those judo and kendo lessons I suffered through as a kid, I now thank my parents for making me learn such skills. After I take my taxi to the hotel, I was hit by what I can only describe as a massive slap to the face. Then, behind me, there stand three snake-footed women. Dracaenas.

"Well, ladies, would any of y'all be so kind and dance with me?" I ask.

"Well, you silver-tongued lad, perhaps you can woo foolish mortals, but we know better," one responds. "Now, stand down and become our lunch. "

Unfazed, I unleash the gauntlets. Screw off, Mr. Broussard, let me have a shot. I punch and duck and kick at the dracaenas, each of them too slow to dodge my blows. Then, summoning spikes on the knuckles, I punch one hard in the back of her neck. It fades into specks of gold, a sight I don't think I can get used to. In a sudden twist around, I grab another dracaena from behind me and flip her into the last one. Both collapsed as heaps on the ground. I summon my khopeshand reap them both like barley. They faded into gold dust, the same way the other one has.

After that warm-up (I don't know why I am so cocky right now, being new to this whole monster-fighting thing), I check into my room on the thirteenth floor. A few hours of TV, reading, practicing AIME questions and planning my latest combat engineering exploits, it was time for dinner. I walk out and check into the dinner hall. Of course, something is waiting for me.

A cat casually strolls out of the room next door. I can't conceive of why anyone would travel with a cat, but here it is. She (it's calico, it has to be a she) approaches me with an odd gleam in her eye. I think nothing of it and walk towards the elevator. Then, I feel what I presume is the world's biggest kitty scratch. Thankfully, it didn't get far, but it did tear my favorite hoodie.

I turn around to see a large leopard creature several times larger than the kitten. Its neck is unnaturally long. At the end of the neck is a diamondback rattlesnake's head. What is this called again, a Servo Pad? Whatever it is, I charge at it.

I feel a spurt of noxious liquid hit my right calf. Instantly, it burns like a splash of nitric acid leaving an orange smear. I take a step back and reorganize myself. I try to remember what my Dad said to do when one encounters something Egyptian, assuming this is Egyptian since they are so fond of cats. I try a few words, but they don't work.

"Ha-lee?" I tried. "Ha-gee?"

"Ha-wi!"

I don't think that was what Dad said, but I do it anyway. Suddenly, an enormous spiked gauntlet erupts in front of me. Or maybe it's a lightning bolt. Or at moments, it's even a rainbow? In any case, when the hologram makes contact with the Servo Pad, it knocks it into the ground. I approach the creature, conjure up my gladius, and just I was preparing to strike, I hear a voice from behind me.

"Ha-di!"

The monster shatters before my eyes. Behind me, a blonde girl a few years older than me approaches. Her hair is streaked with pink highlights, and her combat boots make me slightly nervous. She is about a head taller me. Her blue eyes look at me with devilish intrigue.

"Well, what a way to cheese off a nice lad," she says. London English, I believe. "Alright mate, you haven't a scratch on you?"

"Well, thank you, kind stranger," I say to her. "I'm not hurt, though my shirt is now ruined. I am having worse than a barmy week."

My ability to mimic accents still does not fail me, even at this moment.

"Say, a fellow Londoner?" she asks. "Perhaps this trip won't be so bad. May I ask why you were faffing about with a Serpopard?"

"Erm, I haven't a clue," I reply. I continue in my normal accent. "First of all, I am not actually from London. I'm from San Antonio. Second, I just learned the biggest secret of a lifetime. I don't have much to say for why. Third, who are you?"

"Sadie," she replies simply. "My uncle is Amos Kane. Perhaps you have heard of him, as he is the Chief Lector. You are a Magician, aren't you?"

"Not exactly," I begin. "My father is Boris Romanchuk. He is a Magician. My mother is a Greek or Roman legacy, whichever she might be. I have faced a medley of both Greek and Egyptian monsters since Tuesday, and it seems they won't stop any time soon."

"Did you say Greek?" Sadie asks. "I assume you are on your way to Manhattan. We Egyptians typically stay in Brooklyn, the location of the Twenty-First Nome."

"I may want to visit you later on," I say simply. "My name is Arthur, by the way."

"Splendid to meet you, Arthur," replies Sadie. "Perhaps I should contact my brother and my Greek friend. You will probably meet them anyway. I invite you to stay in Brooklyn since you are clearly Egyptian. We can train you to be a proper Magician. Although, you may not be as good as I am, me being Blood of the Pharaohs."

I already trusted this girl, but I had no idea why I should be. Then she drops that bombshell on me.

"You say you're Blood of the Pharaohs? Who's your ancestor?"

"I am descended from two Pharaohs," Sadie begins. "One is Narmer, the First Pharoah of Egypt. The other is Ramses II."

"Ramses II you say? That makes us distant cousins or something."

"You are a descendant of Ramses II? That explains why Romanchuk sounds so familiar. I believe my Uncle Amos mentioned the Romanchuks at some point."

"In any case, I am on my way to Camp Half-Blood, which I presume is in Manhattan. I'll have to come by another time."

"See you," Sadie says.

I make my way down to the dining hall, and help myself to some bacon. Meeting my distant relative in Charlotte was weird, but I have a feeling that will not be my first encounter with her.