Author's note: Hey lovelies, my apologies for the lack of chapters lately! (They may continue to be sporadic for a bit.) I've had a few health issues and a dissertation to do and it's been generally hectic. So -

To the people who have left lovely reviews, and those who just like this, you have my eternal love and gratitude

To the couple of people who have asked about Lana's quirks (ie motion sickness and her incomplete knowledge of French), there is a reason that they're there and that reason will be brought up later on :)

Anyway, I hope this turned out okay!

Even though Lana had said that Grover could walk her home, the reality was that she ditched him as soon as they got to the coach station. Grover had been acting weirdly ever since the fruit stand incident, and if she was being honest, it was starting to scare her. The fact that he kept looking at Lana like he expected her to drop down dead in front of him only made things worse. So, when Grover said that he needed to use the bathroom – Lana wasn't surprised at that. Whenever he got stressed, he always needed to use the bathroom – Lana had left the moment he was out of eye-and-earshot. Wasting no time, she hopped in a taxi with her suitcase and started the final leg of her trip home uptown.

"East One-hundred-and fourth and First," she said to the taxi driver, then leaned against the window as they set off, thoughts drifting to seeing her mother again.

There was probably no better person on the Earth than Sally Jackson, in Lana's completely unbiased opinion. Despite the fact that she wasn't Lana's mother by blood, she had still raised her with all the love in the world, even when any other foster parent probably would have given up on even trying. Thinking of all of the good that she had done, it made Lana clench her fists as she thought about all of the terrible luck that her mum had been cursed with. She'd had a not-so-great childhood – her own parents died in a plane crash – and had been forced to drop out of high school in order to help her ailing uncle.

Still, somewhere along the way, she had met Lana's birth parents. Her mum always spoke fondly, even reverently, of them, despite having not seen them in twelve years. Lana herself couldn't remember them – they might as well have been a fuzzy idea in the back of her mind. She never asked her mother what had happened to them, though. Whenever they came close to that subject, her mother always looked sad.

She had gone above and beyond a normal foster parent. She always worked odd jobs whilst taking night classes in order to gain her high school diploma, whilst raising Lana by herself. Eventually, she met Gabe Ugliano and married him. The guy had seemed nice enough at first, but the moment her mother and he were married, he began to show his true colours as a world class shithead. For whatever reason, the guy always smelt like mouldy garlic bread wrapped in drying swimming trunks, which seemed to be the result of his personality. He treated Lana's mother horribly, and the way that she and him argued? Well, Lana wasn't surprised he smelt so bad.

After getting out of the taxi and hauling her suitcase into the apartment building, into the lift and onto their floor, Lana was at the door to their apartment. She unlocked the door and merely walked in, only gagging from the smell once. Her stepfather, Smelly Gabe, was sat in the living room with his equally awful poker buddies, apparently hosting a poker party. Lana barely managed to restrain herself from growling at the mess strewn across the floor.

Gabe didn't look up from his cards, but he pulled the cigar away from his mouth. "You're home," he acknowledged, rather pointlessly. Why else would she be here?

Lana made a noncommittal noise. "Where's mum?"

"Working," he replied, finally lifting his eyes to look at her. Judging by the redness in his eyes, Lana would guess that he had been drinking for a good couple of hours, maybe from when he'd woken up. "You have any money?"

Of course that was all he cared about. He didn't ask how she'd been for the last few months – all he wanted was money. Lana merely tilted her chin up slightly as she regarded him. He'd put on weight, she noticed idly, and had combed his two solitary hairs over his balding head in an attempt to look handsome. As always, his vest top was covered in beer stains and crisp crumbs, a testament to what he'd evidently spent all of his time doing. It was a wonder he ever had any money left to buy anything, given that he spent it all on gambling. Probably why he expected her, a child, to provide his funds. Lana didn't even dare tell her mother. Gabe had made it very clear that he would be quite displeased if she did.

Lana shrugged at him, dragging her mind back to the present. Normally, Gabe could sniff out money that was hidden in a pile of paper kilometres away, "Nope, sorry," she said, very unapologetically. "Don't have any money." She added some force in the undertones to the last part. Gabe narrowed his eyes at her for a long moment, before turning back to his greasy friends with a vague noise.

"Whatever," he muttered, a clear dismissal if there ever was one. Lana stared at him for a moment, confused – Gabe had always managed to find any money she had on her, so what made this time different? – before taking the offered escape and heading to her room.

Her bedroom was the only part of the apartment that didn't smell like cigarettes, beer, and pizza. Gabe had wanted to use it as his study during the months when Lana was away at school, but her mother had told him no, absolutely not, young girls need their own space. The threat of refusing to cook for him had worn Gabe down, so Lana's room had remained her own. Shutting the door behind her, Lana dropped the suitcase on the floor, and flopped down onto the bed.

God, just being in the same room as Gabe was enough to make her think of the nightmares. The ever-present stench that seemed to linger around him was almost worse than the visions of Mrs Dodds, or the sound of the giant scissors snipping thread. Thinking about the latter made a chill go up Lana's spine, and a feeling like a shadow was watching her passed through her, like something was waiting to rip her to shreds.

And then, "Lana?"

Lana's fears melted away. It was her mother, opening her bedroom door. Nothing else mattered.

Sally Jackson somehow had the magical, almost godlike, ability to make Lana feel better just by being in the same room as her. She gave off waves of calming energy, a soothing salve to the chaos that always seemed to be storming in her mind. When she looked at Lana, it was always with the softest expression, like she could only see the good things about her, none of the ugly.

Her mother had crossed the room in a flash, sitting on the bed beside Lana and pulling her in for a tight hug. "Oh sweetie," she murmured, her voice somewhere near Lana's ear. "You've grown so much since Christmas."

Lana let her head rest on her mother's shoulder, the smells of a thousand different kinds of sweets tickling the inside of her nose. For a moment, she simply lingered there, letting her mother be a grounding presence against the chaos. A moment, and she pulled away, her mother continuing to stroke her hair softly as she retrieved a bag of sweets with her free hand.

As she dug into the bag, her mum continued to sit next to her on the bed, asking about all of the things that had happened to Lana since Christmas, wanting to know everything that may have slipped her mind when she'd written her letters. Nothing came up about the expulsion.

The tight ache that had been in Lana's chest since the trip to the museum seemed to ease a bit, breathing coming easier until –

"Hey, Sally – where's that bean dip?" Gabe's obnoxiously grating voice cut through their conversation. Lana's jaw clenched.

Her mother, adoptive or not, was the nicest person in the world. She deserved the world, not Gabe.

A look from her, though, and Lana sighed, began recounting the last few months of her time at Yancy. "It wasn't bad there," she said, forcing some upbeat cheer into her tone. "I mean, I lasted nearly a whole year, yeah? And I made a friend!" At the thought of Grover, her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and she quickly hurried past that before she could linger too long on that thought. "Plus, I actually did pretty decently in Latin!"

This mystical spin on her year at Yancy almost convinced Lana, had her re-evaluating the last few months. "And I–" She cut herself off sharply, thoughts of the trip to the museum, of Mrs Dodds and fiery red eyes, an explosion of golden dust, leaking into her mind's eye.

Her mum gave her another look, this one almost calculating. Her eyes seemed to bore into Lana's soul, lifting out any and all secrets that may be sequestered away. "Has something scared you?"

"… no, mum."

A long look from her mother was the indicator that she knew that Lana was holding something back. Thankfully, though, she didn't press for details, and instead continued to idly stroke her hair.

"I have a surprise for you," she said instead, voice soft. "We're going on holiday – to the beach."

Lana felt her breath catch in her throat. "Montauk?" she asked, barely daring to hope as she searched her mum's eyes. It had been over two years since they'd been to Montauk, since they could even consider going back there. Gabe had always strongly discouraged it, saying that there wasn't enough money for frivolous spending like a weekend break. Then, he'd always said that whilst hosting his poker parties, so it was pretty suspect. No wonder they didn't have any money.

Her mum nodded, smiling softly. "Three nights. Same cabin."

Lana felt the hope balloon inside her chest, and she felt like she might float away from the excitement bubbling there. "When?"

"Just as soon as I'm changed."

Before Lana could launch into excited babbling, Gabe and his monstrous smell appeared in the doorway. Immediately, his near-sentient stench seemed to fill the entire room with its pungency. To her credit, her mother barely flinched or so much as acknowledged him.

"Didn't you hear me, Sally?" he growled, scratching at his neck. "Bean dip."

"I was just on my way. We were just talking about the trip," her mum said evenly, no sound or sign of impatience anywhere. She had the patience of a saint, truly.

Gabe narrowed his eyes at them, beady eyes turning into cartoonish pinpricks. "Oh," he said blandly, hand on his neck lowering back down to his side. "You were serious about that, huh?"

Lana grit her teeth, turning her face away so Gabe wouldn't see her stare. "Of course he's not gonna let us go," she muttered in an irritated aside, casting Gabe a dirty look through her hair. Not that he could see it, with his tiny eyes still squinting at them. "Why would he do something decent?"

"Don't worry, he'll let us go," her mother said, tone as steady and unwavering as a mountain. "Gabe is just worried about money, aren't you honey?" She didn't wait for Gabe to give her an answer, already talking before he'd even opened his mouth to protest, loudly. "He won't have to settle for just the bean dip – he'll be getting his favourite seven-layer dip, enough to last the whole weekend."

Lana's admiration for her mother, which was already enough to fill an entire football stadium, increased yet again. She watched Gabe's face soften the slightest bit, and the knowledge of her mother's cunning side was reinforced.

"So about the money for this trip," Gabe began, scratching his wispy chin, "it'll be coming out of your clothes budget, right?"

That was where she drew the line. Before her mum could answer him, probably reassure him that yes, she would be giving up her clothes budget for this, Lana jumped in with a half-growled, "No, it won't be. It's coming out of your precious gambling fund."

The moment the words left her mouth, Lana recognised the undercurrent of force and power infused into her tone, meticulously woven into each word. It had the same feeling as her remark to Gabe when she'd first gotten in. Her mother shot her a sharp look, but Gabe didn't seem to notice anything different. He merely regarded them for another second, then huffed with an irritated, "Whatever. Just don't get my car damaged. You'll take it there, then bring it back."

Her mother nodded, almost sagely. "Yes, dear. Of course."

With one last scratch of his chin, Gabe made a noise. "Fine, just hurry up and make that seven-layer dip before you go."

There were a number of things that Lana wanted to say to Gabe, most of them less than complimentary. A look from her mother, however, made her hold her tongue. She understood what the look meant: just a bit longer, and they would be free of Gabe for three whole days. Her mother turned back to Gabe with a smile and a nod, and Gabe stomped out of her room with all of the grace of an elephant wearing five metre tall stilts.

Her mother turned her face back to Lana. For the briefest moment, there was a flash of something in her eyes, something that Lana couldn't quite identify. It almost looked similar to the look that she'd seen in Grover's eyes. If she didn't know any better, she'd have said that it looked almost like fear, but that didn't make any sense – why would her mother, the fiercest person that Lana had ever known, be afraid? The moment passed, though, and the flicker vanished as her mother gave her a soft smile. She cupped Lana's cheek, a familiar comfort that she never got tired of.

"Start packing," she said, gesturing pointedly towards the case that Lana had haphazardly thrown against the wall. "I'll be ready to go soon."

She got up and left the room, presumably to tend to Gabe and his piggish ways, and Lana started sorting through her things. An hour later, she and her mother were standing outside the shabby apartment building next to Gabe's car. Their cases had been piled in the boot, and it was all Lana could do to stop herself from rocking back and forth on her heels.

Gabe had managed to tear himself away from his poker party and his undeserved seven-layer dip long enough to watch them drag their cases down the stairs, all without lifting a finger to help, of course. Her mother hadn't said anything about it, so Lana had settled for casting him dirty looks with the occasional muttered curse. Once at the car, Gabe had then started complaining about losing her mum's cooking and, most importantly of all, his Camaro, for the entire weekend.

Oh no. Boo hoo, Gabe.

He stomped over with his usual amount of grace and whilst her mum's back was turned, checking the boot of the car, Gabe leaned down. Lana recoiled at the smell radiating off him – it was almost in waves, and no matter how long she had been exposed to it, it never got any better.

"I'm warning you," he growled lowly, the warning tone clear in his voice, "any scratch on that car, any little scratch, and I'm not gonna be happy."

Lana swallowed, but she refused to let herself show the trepidation she really felt. Forcing her face to a mask of indifference, she flicked her eyes to Gabe's and said, "Sure. Just go back to your game."

Gabe once again narrowed his eyes at her, but after a few seconds, turned and started lumbering back towards the building without complaint. Another second, and Lana placed her hand over her chest in an unconscious motion, replicated the position that she'd seen Grover make it take, and pushed it outwards. Like an invisible wind sweeping through the empty street, Gabe was suddenly swept off his feet, sent flying into the apartment building with the door slamming behind him.

Her mother appeared, staring at Gabe and the door with wide eyes. "What the -"

Lana all but leapt into the passenger seat. "Let's go," she said quickly, relieved when her mother seemed to share her sentiment. Once in the car, they were off before Gabe had even clambered back to his feet and speeding towards Montauk.

Their cabin was way out at the end of Long Island, a small pastel box, with faded colours in the curtains from the long days in the sun, that was half sunken into the surrounding sand dunes. For whatever reason, sand always managed to find its way into the place, sequestering itself into the sheets and in the cupboards with the spiders.

Lana loved it. There was no place she loved more in the world than Montauk.

This place had been their go-to place for holidays and short breaks ever since she was a baby. Her mum had been going there for even longer – it was the place where she'd first met Lana's father and had become friends with him.

It was late when they got there, the sun beginning to dip behind the horizon and casting hues of pink and yellow across the sky and sea, so they quickly deposited their cases into their cabin, opened all the windows, kicked their shoes off, and went for a walk along for surf. As the cool water lapped at her feet, the coiled anxiety Lana had been feeling for god knows how long began to ease. With the wind blowing softly against her, the cries of the gulls in her ears, she let the anxiety ebb away with the waves.

As the sky continued to darken to a light blue, the moon beginning to appear, Lana and her mum made their way back to the cabin and started a campfire. Under the perfect cloudless night, they roasted marshmallows, throwing some to the occasional gull that wandered close to them. Her mum began to tell stories, then – stories about her back when she was a kid, before her own parents had died in a plane crash. She told her the different ideas for the books she wanted to write, every plot and every possible twist and turn for the stories.

It was only when the sky was completely dark above them, when even the gulls had quietened down, that Lana dared ask about the thing that had been plaguing her mind. It had always eaten away at her, whenever they had come to Montauk. This trip was no different, it seemed. She asked about her birth parents.

"I was friends with your father," her mother said, holding a marshmallow over the fire, the light flickering in her eyes. "He was…" she trailed off, pausing as she searched for her next words. Lana remained silent. "… kind," her mum decided on, a small smile gracing her face. "Handsome and powerful, but somehow troubled. Like he had the weight of the ocean on his shoulders." A slight movement had her mum's hair shifting. "I think he just wanted someone to talk to so he wouldn't go insane," she smiled wryly.

Lana pondered that for a moment. There was another question she wanted to ask, but at the same time she didn't want to say the words. Her mother watched her with knowing eyes, and Lana sighed. "What about my…" she trailed off as the word got stuck in her throat, unwilling to be said aloud. Saying it aloud would make it real. She swallowed heavily and forced herself to continue. "… my mother?"

Her mum merely gave her another of those knowing looks, the looks that made Lana think that she really did know everything. Her eyes turned skyward for a brief moment. "I never knew her, but I was told that she was beautiful."

Lana was quiet again for another moment, silently digesting that information. She'd known that her mum had known her father – it was one of the few things that she'd heard about him – but she hadn't realised that her mother had been just a stranger. The thought made her uneasy.

"So you adopted a stranger's kid," Lana said blankly, quietly. She stared into the fire, not meeting her mum's eyes. "Why?" She could have done anything with her life, but instead she'd been saddled with the responsibility of a kid that wasn't even hers.

A movement on the other side of the fire made her look up. Her mum was smiling, something in it that was close to wistful. "You'll understand when you're older, love."

Lana turned her face to the stretch of sea beside them. With the sounds of the fire crackling in her ears, she watched the reflection of the moon twist and warp on the dark, glittering surface. Watched the gulls sit on the water, bobbing up and down as the waves gently rolled towards the shore, crashing against the sand with barely a sound.

"We still need to figure out what to do about school," her mum said quietly, more of a mumble than anything. She didn't sound angry about the expulsion. She prodded at the fire with a stick, her eyes seeing something far away. "It needs to be safe…"

"Safe?" Lana repeated, uncomprehending. What did her mum mean by safe? "Safe from what?"

Across that flickering fire, her mother looked up and met her eyes. Something about the look in her eyes – flashes of fear, and something else that Lana instinctively knew she didn't want to know – triggered a rush of memories. From behind a self-built wall, all of the strange, unexplainable things that had ever happened to her came rushing back like a tidal wave, things that she had tried to forget.

When she was younger, on one of their trips to Montauk, Lana had wandered out to the surf before her mum had woken up. When the waves had crashed onto the shore, she had been greeted with a pure white horse, made entirely out of sea foam. The horse had excitedly called her 'Lady', something that she hadn't understood, and had pressed its wet nose against her forehead before retreating back into the ocean.

And so many other things, creepy things that had happened at every school Lana had ever been at. Every time something happened, she had been forced to move.

Part of her wanted to tell her mum about the strange occurrences that had happened since the trip to the museum, everything from Mrs Dodds to the nightmares to the three old ladies at the fruit stand. She hesitated, though – somehow, she knew that if she opened her mouth about any of those things, their trip would come to a screeching halt.

"We'll figure something out," her mum said quietly, and Lana flicked her eyes back to her. "There was somewhere safe your parents suggested… But that might mean…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Might mean mean what?"

"Might mean you never leaving," her mum all but whispered, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"What? Why?"

But her mum shook her head again, and the look in her eyes told Lana that if she continued to ask about it, she would start crying. Dutifully, she let the matter drop.

That night, her dreams were as vivid as they were disturbing.

She was standing on the beach, watching as it stormed with ferocious intent. Two animals, a pure white horse and an eagle, were battling on the edge of the water. As the horse rose to kick at the eagle, so did the waves surrounding it, the water crashing around the horse. The winds seemed to respond to the eagle – as it dived down towards the horse, talons outstretched, the winds became harsher, the lightning louder. Barely audible above the crashing of the waves and the thunderclaps, there was a voice – monstrous and cold, seeming to chuckle from beneath the earth itself.

Instinctively, Lana tried to run towards the two animals, to try and stop them fighting. Her legs refused to cooperate, though. She may as well have been running through custard for all the good it did her. She watched, helplessly, as the eagle dived down towards the horse's eyes, and she screamed.

Lana woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in her bed.

A glance towards her window told her everything that she needed to know – a storm was raging outside, just as it had been in her dream. Unlike her dream, though, there were no white horses or eagles fighting on the beach. Just lightning acting as a pseudo daytime, and waves with enough strength to tear the beach apart in their fury.

Another shuddering clap of thunder that left the ground shaking, and her mum was sitting up, awake in a flash and saying, "Hurricane," before she'd even finished opening her eyes.

That should have been crazy – Long Island never saw hurricanes at that time of the year. A lingering feeling in the back of her mind though, something residual from the dream perhaps, told her that her mother was right. The ocean, raging outside against the light of the lightning strikes, seemed to have forgotten that small point, though. As her mother quickly got up, Lana listened to the wind howling outside – over it was a distant roar, an angry sound that seemed to permeate into her very bones far more effectively than the wind chill could.

Then there was a second noise – yelling, desperate against the wind, and the sounds of something punching against the sand. Lana stared in the direction of the noise, barely daring to breathe, and nearly jumped out of her own skin when there was sudden pounding on the door.

Her mother was there in a flash, shoving the lock off and throwing the door open.

In the doorway, surrounded by the pouring rain, stood Grover. Lana stared incredulously at him – what on Earth was he doing there? And why was there something really, really off about him?

" – searching for hours," Grover panted, leaning against the door frame with one hand. "What were you thinking?"

Lana might have answered him in another life, but it was as if the connection between her brain and mouth had been severed. She stared at Grover, trying to make her mind comprehend what she was seeing. That couldn't be real, right?

As the silence dragged on too long for his liking, Grover groaned out, "O Zeu kai alloi theoi." He turned wide, desperate eyes onto her, seeming to dig through her soul. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

Lana didn't answer, couldn't answer. The strange disconnect between her brain and mouth seemed to grow. It was as though the storm outside had simply blown away her ability to think, leaving her mind blank. Even as she stared at Grover, she couldn't find the wits to wonder how he had found them, in the middle of the night, no less. The only thing that seemed to trickle down through the blankness was the vague but persistent observation of Grover's legs, and distinct lack of trousers.

Because he wasn't wearing them, and where his legs were supposed to be –

"Lana." Her mum whirled around, face lighting up as more lightning illuminated the area. Her face was stern, something in her eyes that Lana had never seen before, and when she spoke, it was with a tone that she didn't recognise. "Tell me now!"

The strange spell broke, and suddenly Lana was babbling about the museum trip, stammering about Mrs Dodds and the three strange old ladies from the fruit stand. With each word, her mother seemed to lose all colour, leaving her bone white in the flashes of lightning and eyes alight with something close to fear. Before Lana could say something – perhaps assure that everything was fine – her mum reached over and grabbed her bag, threw Lana her hoodie.

"We need to leave," she said sharply, pushing Lana out the door with an urgency Lana had never seen before. "Both of you, get to the car!"

And as Grover ran to the car – well, Lana used that term lightly. It was more like trotting than anything else – Lana couldn't help but stare at his legs, at the way the fur on them seemed to shake with every trot. Her brain still didn't want to accept any of this, but innately, she knew.

Grover had donkey legs.

Author's note: Believe it or not, I do actually have a plan for where this is going. I have it on a separate word doc that I open for reference. Anyway, since we're now past this chapter that means that all the stuff I've been looking forward to (the Claiming, the camp, the quest, etc) can be done. Hopefully, you liked this, and please leave me your thoughts on it (because I really appreciate them)!