CHAPTER 2
I really began to wonder why Rhea ever decided to stick around at Camp Half-Blood, as we made our way down to the breakfast area.
As we walked together, people whispered, others jeered, some paid us no attention other than the usual longing looks a pretty girl normally gets while walking past a group of lonely individuals.
Most of the nasty looks came from the fact that Rhea was a very, very powerful demi-god. As a child of Hecate, her powers were more so considered to be a gag-gift rather than something actually useful in a battle. The goddess of magic wasn't nearly as respected as the main three, or any other of the 12 typical Olympian gods or goddesses.
But more often than not, people forget Hecate is the patron goddess of sorcerers, necromancers, and witchcraft. Rhea tapped into her true power with her sorcery, and necromancy—becoming a force to be reckoned with, even if you were a child of the big three.
She taught basic minion summoning at camp, a more modern style of fighting, especially since we've spent most of our lives as demi-gods trying to keep the monsters at bay. No one ever thought about summoning them to fight for our side. It was a foreign, alien idea.
And for that, she was often shunned. People said she was only powerful because she relied on sick, twisted monsters to "do her bidding".
Despite the whispers, Rhea managed to hold her head up high, as I had soon witnessed on our way to breakfast.
"Hey look!" I heard a voice call. It was loud, deep and mean. I looked over, and was greeted by one of the Ares kids. They all sort of lookalike—Black or brown hair, brooding features, thin lips pulled into sneers like rabid dogs. Barbaric.
Don't even get me started on their clothing.
Rhea didn't even turn her head. With the dignity of a queen, she turned her nose up to the air, kept on walking. But our pursuer didn't stop there.
"Hey, witch! Turn around!" He sneered, crossing his arms. He leaned against the side of the Ares Cabin, with its brash, peeled-red paint, barbed wire and boar's head. They seemed proud of the work they had done to the once simple log-cabin. They were all like that. Arrogant, and proud.
The sorceress stopped walking, but didn't face him. "What troubles you, Child of Ares?"
He snorted, cracking his knuckles against his arm "You even talk like one of 'em! Fuckin' witch." With that retort, the boy stood up, and circled around us. "This your witch-in-training? No wonder, Aphrodite kids can't fight for shit."
I clenched my fist, my knuckles turning white. I could feel my face turning red.
"She is learning." Rhea said simply. "More than you ever will—It would do you well to look to weapons other than your fists."
He cocked an unruly eyebrow. His eyes reminded me of his father's—Fiery, instigative and awful. "My fists are always 'ere. Same can't be said for your stupid little wand, witch."
Rhea frowned, her eyes still shifting, formulating. I saw her reach for something concealed in her jacket, but so did the bully.
Like the barbarian he was, he grasped her wrist and yanked it up. Much to his surprise, there was nothing in it. Almost instantly, she whipped her other hand around, and cut clean through his wrist with a sharp, concealed blade.
My breath was caught in my throat as I watched his limp, lifeless hand fall unto the frosted tips of the grass. He was almost as surprised as I was, staring bewildered at his newly-acquired stub.
"M-my hand!"
Rhea appeared unaffected by his cry. "Where are your fists now?"
As the last word left Rhea's tongue, he shot at her with his other hand to rip it out—But she was not finished with him yet. Like a panther, she ducked, and threw her dagger into the air, distracting him enough to switch their positions, and finally kick him onto the ground. The blade glittered in the air, and landed point-down, right in between his legs where he laid, bewildered.
The blade grew, and shifted into a long, ivory staff. The jewel framed at the top of the lavish staff reminded me so much of her eyes, simply indescribable. The Ares kid seemed just as surprised as I was.
Rhea picked up her staff, and waved it over the kid. The air rippled around us, and the illusion faded. His hand had never been cut off.
"Leave us be." She frowned, and ushered me away from the kid—He had a dazed expression on his face, as did the rest of his cabin—They had watched the whole scuffle unravel.
As we walked away, the crowd behind us got rowdy once more, and noisy, teasing and jeering—Although it wasn't directed at us anymore.
I broke the silence as we walked. "Rhea, that was…"
We stopped walking, and she turned to face me, her eyes serious, and dark.
"As women, Penelope, we cannot rely on strength alone to beat our opponents. We must have strategy, and allies. We must take in all that we see, and use it to our advantage, learn and grow. That strategy I used was learned by observing sirens, and contorting the mist into something that can even veil demi-god eyes to what is reality. I did not rely on strength." She explained. I listened, intrigued.
She grasped my shoulder, and looked into my eyes. "You don't have to rely on strength, Penelope. You can fight your opponents with something much greater." Rhea smiled, and gave me a wink as she walked on ahead, to meet Chiron, and Dionysus at the base of the dining hall.
As Rhea left, I felt myself grow weaker at those words. Michael had told me something similar.
He was always my safe-guard, my protector. Anything that dared to hurt me, he was there in a flash, from a spider in the bathroom, to a blood thirsty minotaur, or a malevolent spirit—Michael was always there. I felt so alone, and exposed without him. It was hard to deal with, at times.
I felt myself sink into another sad, wistful memory.
In a rather desperate motion, I scooted into his lap, and pointed a shaky finger to the corner of the room. Something stirred in the darkness. "Spider!"
Michael looked at me with a rather tired expression—Though I knew it was really just a mask. He liked to be depended on, even for the most mundane tasks, like killing a spider that had managed to get into the sparring arena.
"Christ, Penny…" He rolled his dark brown eyes, giving me a sly, half smile. "It's just a bug. Just step on it."
I blinked. "But then I'll get it on my shoe. And that's pretty gross." Batting my eyelashes, I gave him a chaste kiss on the nose. Michael chuckled, and stood up, causing me to slide onto the bench I had been previously sitting on.
"Let's see here…" He started, but didn't get to finish. The spider crawled out from it's shadowy hide away. Michael let out a noise that might've been a cross between a gasp and a squeak. "That's not a spider—"
In a terrible, snake-like hiss, the creature lunged for him. Michael dodged it with ease, and with the thing in the light, I could finally see what he was dealing with.
The "spider" was a six inch, metallic-looking hellspawn, one could only assume it would be the work of a Hephaestus kid. It raked its metal fangs on the floor, and charged at an alarming rate, right at Michael.
Unsheathing his sword, Michael wasted no time. He sliced it to bits with a quick flick of his wrist, and scattered the remains with his foot in contempt. "Guess it won't be buggingus anymore." He smirked at me.
I made my way to my table, where a nymph handed me a plate of my usual—Lots of fruit, yogurt and granola. My cup was filled with hot peppermint tea.
The only other camper in the Aphrodite cabin was Piper, although after this year, you wouldn't pin her to be one of us. She was pretty, without a doubt, but she was covered in so many different battle scars, from gashes, bruises, to old, and tired looking eyes—Not very fitting for a girl in her late teens. I pitied her more than anything else, even though we didn't talk very much.
Though a smaller, more selfish part of me envied her. She still had her boyfriend, Jason. She had so many close friends, not to mention her dad gave a damn about her. But I guess none of that matters when it's always at stake, which it seems to always be in her case.
As people stood up to dump parts of their breakfast into the fire lit near the Counselor's table, Piper and I made our way to the fire. I threw three plump strawberries into the flames, and one ripe, sweet-smelling peach. The area was filled with a lovely, warm smell. I smiled, feeling a little less alone. Silently in my head, I prayed.
Accept my offering, Aphrodite, and help me. Please. I left it at that, and made it back to my table with Piper, the both of us quiet.
I ate my fruit and yogurt, taking occasional sips of my tea. It all tasted like cardboard. Almost ritualistically, I looked to the Athena table for a glimpse of my ex. All I saw was Annabeth, and a couple other grey-eyed kids picking at their food nervously, or reading.
I sighed. Piper seemed to take notice.
"Everything all right?" She frowned, pushing aside her plate of pieta bread and hummus. "You look upset."
The ground became very interesting, all of a sudden. "I guess I'm alright. Just a little shaken up is all."
Piper took a sip of water from her cup. "I bet, I heard what happened with you and that Ares kid this morning."
I raised an eyebrow. "What did you hear?"
She put down her cup, and looked off at Rhea, and the other camp officials. "Apparently you had been walking to breakfast when some jerk was making rude comments about mom. He tried to fight you, but you really showed him up."
I blinked, not recognizing this story, then realized all at once that Rhea had again used her little trick. The mist had even managed to fool Piper, of all people. But why would she have done that?
"Penelope?"
I blinked again, snapping myself out of my thoughts. "Oh, right. Well, I mean, what would you do if some jerk was running his mouth?"
Piper gave me a small smile; one I had seen a lot in the mirror lately. "Probably the same thing you did. I can't stand those kids sometime…" She trailed off, and cast the rest of her food aside. "If you'll excuse me."
My half-sister stood up, and walked off, to her cabin I guess. In the off-season months, you could do that most of the time—Less people meant less rules.
I was alone again.
Before Piper could make it out of the dining area, another horn blew, demanding silence of the camper's. Conveniently, she was near the Zeus table, and helped herself to a seat next to Jason.
Dionysus stood up. He was dressed in a white leopard print, button-up shirt. His greasy black hair was slicked back, his forehead wrinkling as he lifted an unkempt eyebrow, staring at the paper he held in his hands. His eyes were sunken, and very tired looking.
"Alright, alright, settle down…" He frowned. "Brats…" Dionysus added under his breath. With a clear of his throat, he began again. "You all know what's going on. We've got some stray monsters, yadda yadda yadda, we need to keep them in check, and so forth. Normally, we'd send Percy and his little friends to clean it up—" He glanced to where Percy and his friend group all seemed to cumulate. "—But Chiron thinks they need a break. If so-facto, some other brats need to do it."
From the Ares table, heard a voice. The same abrasive, instigative voice I heard with Rhea. "So, it's a quest!"
Dionysus rolled his bloodshot eyes, clearly done with everyone within a 50-foot radius of him. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. If I call your name, make your way up here—Quickly."
He droned on with the names, butchering most of the pronunciations. "…Raymond Greenfield.."
The same jerk who had tried to jump Rhea and I stood up, and strode over to the councilor's table, puffing his chest like he had just won the lottery. I mirrored Dionysus, and rolled my eyes.
He continued with the names. "Hmm.. Chloe.. Chloe Coito…"
From the Hermes table, full of children and teenagers alike, emerged a girl with brown hair, and tan skin. Her eyes were the color of honey, and glowed with the unmistakable mirth of a child of Hermes. She trudged up to the Councilor's table as well.
"Mm.. Nicholas Decius." Dionysus coughed, smacking the center of his chest.
Like the dead, the boy rose. His eyes seemed almost black, and brooding, giving Raymond a run for his money on the mean looking features. His hair was a light brown, and his skin was tan and toned. Freckles placed themselves randomly about the bridge of his nose. "Actually, its Nick." He frowned, looking almost as displeased as Dionysus. He was from the Nemesis table.
If Mr. D had heard him, he hadn't alluded to it. He continued on. "And—Wow, are you sure this is right?" He snorted, and looked to Chiron and Rhea. They both nodded. "Huh. Penelope Santibanez."
My heart stopped. My name?
Almost instinctively, I stood, and albeit numbly, I made my way up there and stood amongst the chosen kids. I didn't even look at them. My eyes were glued to the floor.
"Well, that's all then. You can all go once you're done eating." Mr. D concluded, and then, turned to us.
"You four will come with me."
