Deciphering the Oracle's message was not easy: it was written in no language Heather had ever seen, with letters shaped like something from a science fiction novel, strange dashes across the bottoms of them, and upside down punctuation. She had looked at an Ancient Greek dictionary, but the letters did not match. Nothing worked!
She hadn't shown it to Chiron or Pollux yet, determined to figure it out for herself. Yet with each passing day, she seriously considered those options: the note was impossible!
It was early on saturday when she finally made a breakthrough: awake and by the creek at dawn, she was turning the note over in her fingers, not really looking at it. Then she flipped it upside down, and gave a double take.
The letters-which had been so mysterious before-now actually looked like letters! The only problem was that they were facing the wrong way. Excited for the first time since receiving the note, Heather rushed back to Cabin Twelve and ran into the bathroom, holding the paper up to the mirror.
The note isn't written in English, she realized as she studied the reflection, it was written in Spanish, her second language. She recognized many words, including usted and destino. She could read it.
Trembling from head to toe, Heather read the first sentence and scribbled it in English on the back of the paper. Flipping the paper over, she repeated the process half a dozen times. Her excitement-and anxiety-grew with every stroke of the pen. What could this message possibly hold? It must have answers, it must!
Finally finished, Heather brushed her black curls out of her face and capped the pen, preparing herself. The words took up half the paper, and she could bear not knowing any longer. She forced herself to slow down and read it in order:
Child of the wine god, you did not choose your father, and he did not choose you. A power greater than the gods has formed your family, and to deny this is to court animosity and distrust. Your are a child of destiny, chosen to protect the world from the dangers that would threaten it. You cannot do this task alone: heroes need the gods for their strength even as the gods of Olympus need heroes to do their work on earth. You were born with a greek diety as your father, and it cannot change. You have the power of Olympus in your veins, and the even greater power of choice at your disposal. They are yours to do with as you will.
Heather reached the end of the paper, then started at the top again. By the third reading, the message had really sunk in, and she leaned back against the wall, her heart sinking. So, there were no new answers. Only the same words recycled over and over and over again: the god of wine is your dad. Deal with it.
Heather sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. She looked up at the ceiling, studying the vines that waved their leaves in time with the occasional breeze that slipped through the open window. Tentatively, she raised her hand, afraid of what might happen. Slowly, the green tendrils reached down from the rafters, gently coiling around her wrist.
"Guess that confirms it," she whispered, letting the grape vines return to their usual place in the rafters. Still a bit melancholy, she stood, walked over to a quiet corner of the cabin, and knelt, clasping her hands together. She stayed there for a long time, not moving until her brother came to get her for dinner.
"Evening," Heather mumbled to Mr. D as she passed him. The wine god looked up in surprise, but his daughter had already taken her seat at her table with Pollux. Some of the campers stared and whispered, but Heather ignored them, eating with more energy than she had for the past week; acting like a proper human being again.
Mr. D returned to his magazine during dinner, refusing to watch the dark-haired girl. Even when it came time for campfire, the director had an unusual disinterest for the campers-even more extreme than usual. When Chiron finally ordered the campers to get to bed, he set off for the Big House without a word. While on his way, he heard Heather laughing at some joke he didn't care to hear.
The girl in question watched him go, her brow furrowed ever so slightly. Her councilor asked what was the matter and she chuckled to herself.
"It's nothing, Pollux" she answered. "Just a little family matter, I guess. It's all good now."
Pollux raised his eyebrows disbelievingly, but said nothing. Heather hummed to herself, content for the first time since coming to camp. Her half brother made a mental note to ask her later, at a better time. For now, he would let her be happy, no matter how mysterious the reason.