My dream causes me a nice bout of insomnia. I wake up at 5:00 AM, feeling quite worried. I can't put my finger on why this is, but I knew what I saw in my dream. That was the Underworld, and Hades is in serious trouble. Most troubling was the fact that the giant fissure of light seems to generate an unlimited supply of all sorts of monsters, some of which don't appear either Greek or Egyptian. The old man I saw must be Hades and for some other odd reason, he seems much older than he should be. Whoever that other man is, he's taking on the massive front as well. The only silver linings are that both sides are entrenched, meaning neither can make decent progress on the front, and both sides have spirits that are already dead as soldiers. Those poor souls, many of them have been soldiers in their mortal lives, are going through the horrors of war for possibly a second time. I see now why I am so desperately needed down there.
An hour of the most excruciating anticipation I've ever felt later, I gather my supplies and head for Half-Blood Hill, as I now know it as. The tree was once what kept Thalia, who I now know is the Lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis, alive for seven years. She must be much older than she looks, probably in her late twenties or early thirties, for she practically raised Annabeth at age seven, so I've heard.
All of the campers gathered to watch me depart on my solo quest. Amidst the crowd of somber eyes, one hazel pair stick out much more than the others. They are red and bloodshot as if resulting from lack of sleep or crying. I can't bring myself to think about which it may be. I had cried when I saw Penelope move away. Now, she's seeing me leave her too, possibly for eternity. It hadn't occurred to me that I can die today until those sad eyes gazed upon me. Even as a million thoughts and emotions race through my mind, everyone else only sees a determined expression. If my acting can't cover it, the illusion certainly can.
I climb my way up Half-Blood Hill. At the summit, I turn and gaze upon this place one more time. What had once been such a homely-looking summer camp has now become one of my only safe refuges. I only now realize my days in the mortal world are forever behind me, for I will bring danger anywhere I go. I can't even keep danger away from places of safety, and I certainly can't risk it in places with no protection. First time for everything, they say, but no one ever acknowledges the last. That boring day in the Museum seems glorious when you possibly can't ever have it back.
Descending from the summit, I see Argus, the eyeful of eyeballs that man is, sitting in the driver seat of a black Cadillac Escalade ESV. I would have preferred something European like an Audi, but considering how much stuff I'm carrying even with the space-compression magic I cast on it, I'm certainly thankful I'm not riding in one of those uncomfortable-looking strawberry vans. I did see one of the spells on my Egyptian scroll allows me to store items in the Duat, whatever that is, but I can't seem to make it work currently. As I've heard, those vans have been the ferry of several generations of American heroes to their deaths, and the campers have all sorts of urban legends about each van, however identical they appear.
After loading all my supplies into the van, I ride in silence to Brooklyn. Normally, quests begin in Manhattan. But, considering my special circumstances, a stopover at the Twenty-First Nome is in order to offer me two well-guarded chauffered paths before I begin. It would be insanely stupid to have another phoenix attack me in a densely populated area.
After about twenty minutes on the road, I hit stop-and-go traffic in Brooklyn. Despite having only been here once before, I can certainly see that things have changed. A store I once knew as a Duane Reade is now a Starbucks, and a few old abandoned houses have been torn down. The city still feels and looks like what it did when I last came here, but I know something is different. Perhaps it's just the gods messing with my head, but whatever at this point.
Twenty more minutes and a turn around a block later, I arrive at what appears to be an abandoned warehouse.
"We're here, Arthur," Argus calls out. "Good luck on your quest! In all my centuries of chauffering heroes, you may have been my hardest one to see out. Everyone has heard their own version of that cursed new Prophecy, and my version must have been one of the worst ones. I can only hope to see you once more, young hero."
I can help but feel defeated before I even start. That's five alternate versions of that prophecy at least, and most of them are so bad their owners refuse to share them with me, who everyone so far agrees is the subject of what they heard. Why is everyone so closed off about this? Is there something I can't be trusted to hear, or are they the problem? I can only imagine what horrible things they have heard to not tell me anything at all. Not even Percy, who's famous around camp for being reckless with his tongue, suddenly has it worked on by an Eagle Scout when I ask what he heard. If I shall die on this quest, let it be spectacular, for I have scarcely lived for twelve years and have already been given a death sentence.
I unload my stuff and take a good hard look at the edifice before me. It initially appears as an abandoned warehouse. On a second look, I see the five-story mansion that's been magically stacked on top of it. The house looks surprisingly modern for a structure meant to host ancient Egyptian arts, and even more so when I saw on the plaque that this was built in 1942.
A moment later, two birds, an eagle and a kite, fly down in front of me. They morph into humanoid figures before my eyes. To my left stands Carter, his black hair now better managed. He's wearing a Camp Jupiter T-shirt for some reason. The other person is of course Sadie. Her blonde hair has been tied back into a ponytail, a look I can't see her wearing at all. In a similar odd fashion, she's wearing a Hotel Valhalla T-shirt. I sincerely hope that's just a camp for Norse demigods, for gods know what does that actually mean. Anything goes at this point.
"Welcome, Arthur," Carter begins. "Unfortunately, our driver will be late to return today, so you can't leave until tomorrow. In the meantime, we can help you decipher some of these spells. It's already quite unusual that you can cast spells without a wand, but it's also important for you to master the tools of the Magician nonetheless."
"Well, let's see what our five-thousandth cousin can do," Sadie cracks.
Training to be a magician isn't much harder than to be a Greek demigod, at least to me. I had their spells memorized in no time at all, and I had free time to train with Jazmine, their apothecary. Soon, I have a vast array of healing potions and spell-bound scrolls added to my toolkit. I eventually did figure out how to keep stuff in the Duat, and stored the vast majority of my nectar and ambrosia there. Hopefully, the Greek items will drive away any snoopers, for they can't touch the things without possibly burning up.
"Mind if I snag some of that ambrosia?" Carter asks. "Sadie says it tastes like your favorite comfort food."
"I don't think that's a great idea, but what the Hades, go for it," I respond.
Carter takes a small piece and eats it.
"Huh, it tastes like caviar," Carter responds.
"You have some expensive taste buds," I retort.
"What can I say, I spent years of my life flying around the world with Dad." Carter answers.
The next morning, the driver returns with a black Audi SUV. Finally, some nice luxury.
"Looks like the driver is down for tomorrow, so I'm going to have to be your driver," Carter says.
"Are you sure that's safe, Carter?" I question. "I'm supposed to be on this quest solo."
"Also, Carter, you've been the one driving for the last couple of quests," Sadie speaks up. "I don't think we can subject Arthur to more of your driving skills."
"Shut up, Sadie," Carter snaps back.
Carter suddenly slaps himself in the face.
"Sadie, knock that out before I get Arthur here to wipe your memory!" Carter shouts.
"I don't know if I can do that," I answer.
"Well, everyone just kind of expects you to have all the skills now," Sadie answers. "Give me the bloody keys. I'm driving."
Begrudgingly, Carter hands Sadie the keys.
"Now, get the side of the road straight, Sadie," I tease. "Let's not get flattened into an Audi sandwich before I even start."
Sadie snorts at me as Carter double overs laughing.
"Unlike me, you can't bring yourself to jab Arthur, now can you?" Carter says, still laughing.
"I've lived here for longer than I have in England at this point, I think I can drive on the proper side of the road." Sadie snaps.
I load the stuff I didn't stuff into the Duat into the "boot" and hop in. Sadie drives a whole two miles on the wrong side of the road just to spite me before we head off to my actual launching point.