AN: Nothing to say, let's move right along.
Chapter 5: Nancy?
Percy and Willow had weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill them. The rest wanted food.
They must've woken up several times, but what he heard and saw made no sense, so he just passed out again. The last time he awoke, he was lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovered over him, smirking as she scraped drips off his chin with the spoon.
When she saw his eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"
Percy managed to croak out, "Wh-what?"
She looked around, as if afraid someone would over-hear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I don't..."
Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled his mouth with the pudding again.
The next time he woke up, the girl was gone.
A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over him. He had blue eyes- at least a dozen of them-on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.
When he finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about his surroundings, except that they were nicer than he was used to. Percy was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over his legs, a pillow behind his neck. All that was great, but his mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. His tongue was dry and nasty and every one of his teeth hurt.
'Somebody get the number on that bull...?' Willow mumbled as he returned to consciousness.
'...That was all real, wasn't it...' Percy didn't phrase it as a question. Willow didn't respond, which was as good as a yes as far as Percy was concerned.
On the table next to him was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry. His hand was so weak that he almost dropped the glass once he got my fingers around it.
"Careful," a familiar voice said.
Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD. Just plain old Grover, Not the goat boy.
"You saved my life," Grover said. "I... well, the least I could do ... I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."
Reverently, he placed the shoe box in Percy's lap.
Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the entire thing heavily scorched but still in tact. All of Percy's fears were confirmed again. This was real.
"The Minotaur..."
"Um, Percy, it isn't a good idea-"
"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" he demanded. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."
Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?"
"My mom. Is she really ..."
He looked down.
Percy stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of them, was the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looked beautiful in the sunlight.
His mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should have looked beautiful anymore.
"I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "I'm a failure. I'm-I'm the worst satyr in the world."
He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. Well, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole.
"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled.
Thunder rolled across the clear sky.
As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, Percy thought, 'Well, that settles it.'
Everything was real. It was damn real. Percy's eyes widened. That meant his talk with his mother had been real too. His father was Hades...the Greek God of the Underworld...and his uncle, Poseidon, was angry at that, and had adopted Percy as his son while he was still in his mother's womb.
Percy wasn't sure how he felt about his father being the God of the Dead. Hades shouldn't have a grudge against him at least, that was a good thing. His dad wouldn't ever want to kill him or anything right? Right?
Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid- poor goat, satyr, whatever- looked as if he expected to be hit.
Percy finally said, "It wasn't your fault."
"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."
"Did my mother ask you to protect me?"
"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least... I was."
"But why.." he suddenly felt dizzy, his vision was swimming.
"Don't strain yourself," Grover said. "Here." He helped Percy hold the glass and put the straw to his lips.
He recoiled at the taste, because he was expecting apple juice. It wasn't that at all. It was chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. And not just any cookies- his mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting. Drinking it, his whole body felt warm and good, full of energy. His grief didn't go away, but he felt as if his mom had just brushed her hand against his cheek, given him a cookie the way she used to when he was small, and told him everything was going to be okay.
There was also a second lying taste to it. It took Percy a minute to realise that it tasted like raspberry juice mixed with orange juice. It was a strange taste next to the cookies and yet it just...worked.
Before Percy knew it, he'd drained the glass. He stared into it, sure he'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.
'Oh that tasted good,' Willow drooled happily. Percy quickly figured out where the raspberry/orange juice taste came from.
"Was it good?" Grover asked.
All Percy could do was nod.
"What did it taste like?" He sounded so wistful. Percy felt guilty.
"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I should've let you taste."
His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just... wondered."
"Chocolate-chip cookies," he said. "My mom's. Homemade...with a weird second taste of raspberry juice mixed with orange juice."
Grover looked at Percy strangely for a second, before shrugging it off. "And how do you feel?"
"Like I could throw Na-" he stopped himself. He didn't really want to throw Nancy a hundred yards anymore. "Like I could piledrive Mrs. Dodds into the ground a dozen times."
"That's good," he said. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff."
"What do you mean?"
He took the empty glass from Percy gingerly, as if it were dynamite, and set it back on the table. "Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."
The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.
His legs felt wobbly, trying to walk that far. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, but Percy held on to it. He and Willow paid for that souvenir the hard way. He wasn't going to let it go.
As they came around the opposite end of the house, he caught his breath.
They must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, he simply couldn't process everything he was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture-an open-air pavilion, an amphitheatre, a circular arena- except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless he was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoon-fed Percy popcorn-flavoured pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them.
The man facing him was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels- cherubs. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt.
"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to Percy. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron..."
He pointed at the guy who had his back to them.
First, Percy realised he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then he recognised the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard...
"Mr. Brunner!" he cried out in surprise.
The Latin teacher turned and smiled at him. His eyes had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.
"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."
'Percy...let me have control for a minute...' Willow told him.
Percy complied. Immediately, green bled into amber. Willow rubbed the ring on his finger and everyone immediately tensed as the long, blood red spear appeared in his hands. He levelled it at Chiron. "Give me a reason," he growled angrily. "Give me a reason and I swear I'll do it!"
"Percy?" Grover questioned in worry.
Willow ignored him. "You knew!" he snapped at Chiron. "You knew about Mrs. Dodds! You knew about what I am! Yet you never told me! If you had told me, maybe I'd have come to this camp sooner! If you'd told me, then maybe my mother wouldn't be dead!" Blood red aura began to come off of Willow and the spear, his amber eyes showing pure anger.
"Percy," Chiron said in as soothing a voice as he could. "I am sorry for the loss of your mother, and I agree, but it wasn't the ti-"
"The hell it wasn't!" Willow snarled. "The time was right after I was attacked by whatever the fuck Mrs. Dodds was! The right time was at the end of term, when you decided to embarrass me in front of the class! THE RIGHT TIME WAS ANY TIME DURING WHEN YOU TRICKED THE SCHOOL!" the aura began to pulsate hard.
"Per-" Chiron tried again, but Willow cut him off.
"That isn't my name!" he snapped. "Percy is the sane part! My name is Willow!" the aura grew stronger and heavier. It looked like the blonde girl was about to leap into action, when suddenly the aura died down. Willow grit his teeth as he stabbed the spear into the ground. "Not worth it..." he muttered bitterly. "Killing you won't bring her back..." he gripped the spear and it once more shrunk into a blood red ring on his middle finger. "Know that you are on thin ice with me, 'Mr. Brunner'. I don't know if Percy is willing to give you a chance, but know that I am not."
With his piece said, Willow handed back control to Percy. Amber changed to green, and he looked at them all awkwardly. "Um...sorry about him," he said apologetically. "Willow is kind of...insane."
"I ah...see..." Chiron mumbled softly.
He offered Percy the chair next to Mr. D, who looked at Percy with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "As amusing as your little outburst was, I'm still not looking forward to having you here. But I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."
'Asshole,' Willow muttered.
"Uh...thanks." Percy mumbled, before scooted a little farther away from him because, if there was one thing Percy had learned from living with Gabe as a child, it was how to tell when an adult has been hitting the 'happy juice'. If Mr. D was a stranger to alcohol, then Percy was a goat.
"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl.
She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced them. "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."
Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."
She looked to be around Percy's age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what Pecy thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling grey, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analysing the best way to take him down in a fight.
She looked at Percy a little uneasily- probably because of Willow's earlier outburst- before she glanced at he Minotaur horn in his hands, then back to him. Percy thought she'd make a comment about him being awesome, or something along those lines.
Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep." Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.
"So," Percy said, anxious to change the subject. "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?"
"Not Mr. Brunner," the ex-Mr. Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."
"Okay." Totally confused, Percy looked at the director. "And Mr. D...does that stand for somethi-" Percy paused as his conversation with his mother came to his mind.
'Your father, Percy, is Hades. The Greek God of the Underworld.'
Percy thought about it for a minute, before he realised the man in front of him was a god. He looked at him for a minute, running through the name of Greek Gods with names starting with 'D' before he found one linked one to alcohol. "You're Dionysus. The God of Wine."
Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at Percy, and he looked mildly impressed. "Very quick to find out who I was, I see. But you will refer to me as Mr. D. Names have power, after all. You don't go around using them for no reason."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I must say, Percy," Chiron-Brunner broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."
"House call?"
"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to...ah, take a leave of absence."
Percy raked his brain trying to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but he did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher his first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr. Brunner had taken the class.
"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" Percy asked, a little surprised.
Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."
"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"
"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, trembling with good reason. Mr. D- if Percy remembered right- was basically the lord of Satyrs.
"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyed Percy suspiciously.
Percy shook his head, "I'm afraid not, sir. I've never really had too many friends since I've had to change schools so much, so I've never really learned how to play."
"Well," Mr. D said, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."
"I'm sure the boy can learn," Chiron said
"Please," Percy said, "I know what this place is but...What am I doing here? Mr. Brun-Chiron-why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"
Mr. D snorted. "I asked the same question."
The camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile.
Chiron smiled at Percy sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let him know that no matter what his average was, Percy was his star student. He expected him to have the right answer.
"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?"
"She..." Percy looked down. "She said she'd been selfish to keep me so close, and that as soon as our trip was done, she was bringing me here. She..." Percy's mouth grew dry. "She told me who my father was."
Chiron's eyes widened and he leaned forward eagerly. "And...?"
Percy looked at Chiron. "Forgive me, sir, but you've lost a lot of my trust by keeping so much from me. I am in agreement with Willow. My mother might still be alive if you'd told me this sooner. I'm not inclined to tell you any details anytime soon."
Chiron pulled back, looking a little hurt, but understanding, "I see..."
"Young man," Mr. D spoke up, "are you bidding or not?"
"May I ask how you bid, sir?" Percy said politely.
He explained, rather kindly, how you bid in pinochle, and so Percy did.
"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."
"Orientation film?" Percy asked.
"No," Chiron decided. "Well, Percy. You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know"- he pointed to the horn in the shoe box- "that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either, lad. And you also know the great powers that are at work in your life. You know that Gods- the forces you call Greek Gods- are very much alive."
Percy stared at the table. Mr. D yelled, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackled as he tallied up his points.
"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"
"Eh? Oh, all right."
Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminium can and chewed it mournfully.
Mr. D turned back to the card game. "I believe I win."
"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."
"Um...all I have is this..." Percy showed them his hand.
Chiron's eyes widened, and Mr. D laughed loudly. "Haha! The boy has your number, Chiron!" He stood. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."
Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."
Mr. D turned to Percy. "Cabin eleven, Mr. Jackson. And mind your manners."
He swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.
"Will Grover be okay?" Percy asked Chiron, worry laced in his voice.
Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been...ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."
"Mount Olympus," Percy blinked. "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"
"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."
"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in America?"
"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."
"The what?"
"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilisation.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilisation were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know-or as I hope you know, since you passed my course-the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps-Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on-but the same forces, the same gods."
"So...why are they here now?"
"The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Centre, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not-and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either. America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."
Willow muttered something, and Percy was a little startled by it since he'd been so quiet, 'We are all connected, huh...?'
Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he were going to get up out of his wheelchair, but that should have been impossible. He was paralysed from the waist down.
"For now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."
And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, Percy thought he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, he realised that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached.
Percy stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.
"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."
Percy nodded dumbly as they started walking away from the house, when Percy caught the sight of someone and froze. 'No way...' he thought, but spoke. "Nancy?"
Hearing her voice, Nancy Bobofit turned, looking for the person who spoke her name, before her eyes lit up. "Percy!" she squealed in happiness. She ran towards him and tackled him to the ground in a hug, pressing a firm kiss on his lips.
Chiron looked both amused and surprised at what was happening.
Percy didn't know how he should react, so he just kept his eyes wide and in shock. Willow was equally as stunned, as both halves of Percy Jackson just lay there, allowing her to kiss him like there was no tomorrow.
Finally- after what felt like a year- Nancy broke the kiss and smiled down at him, blushing. "I'm so happy to see you!"
Still in shock, Percy gave an intelligent response, "Uh-huh."
There we go! Remember, if you want anyone else in the harem just tell me. There might be lemons if you tell me to do it but right now I am not planning to. I have thought about it and there will be NO MAIDEN GODDESS IN THE HAREM! Artemis and Annabeth will become friends with Percy in time. There will be a good Luke. That's all for today! Bye!