Hello, my wonderful, amazing, Readers! I just want to start off this chapter with a sincere apology for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger for so long. I'm really lazy and I have a lot of stuff to do at school not that I have nine classes instead of eight. Two of those classes are AP college credit classes. Anyway, I want to dedicate this chapter to my friend Antigone and the rest of you for being so patient with me.
This chapter begins after the day of the campfire.
The next few days I settled into a routine that felt almost normal, if you don't count the fact that I was getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur. Each morning I took Ancient Greek from Annabeth. I discovered Annabeth was right about my dyslexia: Ancient Greek wasn't hard for me to read. The rest of the day, I'd rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something I was good at.
Chiron tried to teach me archery, but we found out pretty quick I wasn't any good with a bow and arrow. Throughout days of training I only managed to get two arrows in the center. I wasn't that good at Foot racing either. The wood-nymph instructors left me in the dust. They told me not to worry about it, but still, it was a little humiliating to be slower than a tree.
I wasn't really good at wrestling. My body just didn't seem to be built for it anyway. There's that and Clarisse and the rest of the Ares cabin hate my guts because of that fall out we had a couple days ago. I'm good at any activity that involves water or fine arts. The second one was surprising to me too.
I knew the senior campers and counselors were watching me, trying to decide who my godly parent was, but they weren't having an easy time of it. I wasn't as strong as the Ares kids, or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. I didn't have Hephaestus's skill with metalwork or-gods forbid- Dionysus's way with vine plants.
Luke told me I might be a child of Hermes, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But, I know he was just trying to make me feel better. He really didn't know what to make of me either but he still stuck around despite anything.
Despite all that, I liked camp. I got used to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, even the creepy noises of monsters in the woods at night. I would eat dinner with cabin eleven, scrape part of my meal into the fire, and try to feel some connection to my real dad. Nothing came. Just that warm feeling I'd always had, like the memory of his smile. I tried not to think too much about my mom, but I kept wondering: if gods and monsters were real, if all this magical stuff was possible, surely there was some way to save her, to bring her back. Luke and I talk a lot about the gods and his experience with them. He always seems so bitter when he talks about them and how they have so many kids they don't take responsibility for. I started to understand Luke's bitterness. I agree that even gods have to take time off and take care of the kids and family they sired. It's only fair,...no, not fair..it's just right. I mean, even I'm starting to feel abandoned and unwanted seeing as I haven't been claimed yet anyway.
Thursday afternoon, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I had my first sword-fighting lesson. Every-body from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be our instructor. We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. I guess I did okay. At least, I understood what I was supposed to do and my reflexes were good. The problem was, I couldn't find a blade that felt right in my hands. Luke tried his best to fix me up, but he agreed that none of the practice blades seemed to work for me. We moved on to dueling in pairs.
Luke announced he would be my partner, since this was my first time. "Good luck," one of the campers told me.
"Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."
I shrugged my shoulders at him in a nonchalant type of way before going to stand near Luke.
Luke showed me thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way. With every swipe, I got a little more battered and bruised.
"Keep your guard up, Percy," he'd say, then whap me in the ribs with the flat of his blade.
"No, not that far up!" Whap! "Lunge!" Whap! "Now, back!" Whap!
By the time he called a break, I was soaked in sweat. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke poured ice water on his head, which looked like such a good idea, I did the same. Instantly, I felt better. Strength surged back into my arms. The sword didn't feel so awkward.
"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered.
"If Percy doesn't mind, I want to give you a little demo."
Great, I thought. Let's all watch Percy get pounded.
The other Hermes kids gathered around us, all of them suppressing smiles. I figured they'd been in my shoes before and couldn't wait to see how Luke used me for a punching bag. He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon.
"This is difficult," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique." He demonstrated the move on me in slow motion. Sure enough, I lost my hold on the sword and it clattered to the ground.
"Now in real time," he said, after I'd retrieved my weapon. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?" I nodded, and Luke came after me.
Somehow, I kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of my sword. My senses opened up. I saw his attacks coming. I countered. I stepped forward and tried a thrust of my own. Luke deflected it easily, but I saw a change in his face. His eyes narrowed, and he started to press me with more force. The sword grew heavy in my hand. The balance wasn't right. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took me down, so I tried the disarming maneuver. My blade hit the base of Luke's and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust. Clang. Luke's sword rattled against the stones. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended chest.
The other campers were silent.
I lowered my sword with a shy smile on my face, even though inside I jumping in excitement from actually being able to pull of that move on the first try. For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak. Actually, everyone was too shocked to do anything.
Luke was the first to snap out of it. His scarred face broke into a grin. "By the gods, Percy, that was amazing! Show me that again!"
I didn't want to. The short burst of manic energy had completely abandoned me. But Luke insisted. This time, I knew I wasn't going to win, but I still tried my best. We began our duel analyzing each others moves. He was the first to slash his sword at me and since I knew trying the move right now was a bad idea, I dodged out of the way and took a step back. I tried a low blow by swinging my sword from below Luke's arms, aiming up towards his chest and arm pit. He voided my attack and tried to thrust his sword at me but I blocked him by hitting his sword with mine. That proved to be a very dumb move because right after I did that he disarmed me using the new move.
After a long pause, somebody in the audience said,
"Beginner's luck?" Luke wiped the sweat off his brow with a small smile.
He appraised at me with an entirely new interest.
"Maybe," he said. "But I wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword... ."
Friday afternoon, I was sitting with Grover at the lake, resting from a near-death experience on the climbing wall. Grover had scampered to the top like a mountain goat, but the lava had almost gotten me. My shirt had smoking holes in it. The hairs had been singed off my forearms.
We sat on the pier, watching the naiads do underwater basket-weaving, until I got up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D. His face turned a sickly shade of yellow. "Fine," he said. "Just great."
"So your career's still on track?"
He glanced at me nervously. "Chiron t-told you I want a searcher's license?"
"Not really." I had no idea what a searcher's license was, but it didn't seem like the right time to ask.
"He just said you had big plans, and that you needed credit for completing a keeper's assignment. So did you get it?"
Grover looked down at the naiads. "Mr. D suspended judgment. He said I hadn't failed or succeeded with you yet, so our fates were still tied together. If you got a quest and I went along to protect you, and we both came back alive, then maybe he'd consider the job complete."
My spirits lifted. "Well, that's not so bad, right?"
"Blaa-ha-ha! He might as well have transferred me to stable-cleaning duty. The chances of you getting a quest... and even if you did, why would you want me along?"
"Of course I'd want you along!"
Grover stared glumly into the water.
We talked about canoeing and swordplay for a while, then debated the pros and cons of the different gods. Finally, I asked him about the four empty cabins.
"Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis," he said. "She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd be mad."
"Okay, but what about the other three at the end. Are those the Big Three?"
Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject.
"No. One of them, number two, is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos."
"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades."
"Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what."
"Zeus got the sky, Poseidon the sea, Hades the Underworld." I remembered.
"Uh-huh."
"But Hades doesn't have a cabin here."
"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here ..."
Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant. Let's leave it at that."
"But Zeus and Poseidon-they both had, like, a bazillion kids in the myths. Why are their cabins empty?"
Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II, you know, that was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side, and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx." Thunder boomed.
I said, "And that's the most serious oath you can make."
Grover nodded.
Grover's face darkened. "Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell off the wagon. There was this TV starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo-he just couldn't help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia .. . well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."
"But that isn't fair.' It wasn't the girl's fault that she was born. It was Zeus that couldn't keep it in his pants. Or use protection."
Grover hesitated and looked up nervously. "Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about the girl, he wasn't too happy about Zeus breaking his oath. Hades let the worst monsters out of Tartarus to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill." He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where I'd fought the minotaur. "All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted animal. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill. As she died, Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."
I stared at the pine in the distance.
The story made me feel hollow, and guilty too. A girl my age had sacrificed herself to save her friends. She had faced a whole army of monsters. Next to that, my victory over the Minotaur didn't seem like much. I wondered, if I'd acted differently, could I have saved my mother?
"Grover, have heroes really gone on quests to the Underworld?"
"Sometimes," he said. "Orpheus. Hercules. Houdini."
"And have they ever returned somebody from the dead?"
"No. Never. Orpheus came close... . Percy, you're not seriously thinking-"
"No, I was just wondering." I lied.