The Eye of Gods

by: dnrl

Chapter Three: Play With Fire

"All set, Prop!" The cheerful Apollo camper, Logan, clapped his hand on my shoulder and gave me a mega-watt grin. "Change the dressing every couple of days, and you'll be healed up in a week or so. Be more careful around swords, yeah?"

"Yeah," I exhaled, smiling. "Thanks, Logan."

"No problem! See you two later," he said as he turned away to help a sibling with something, flashing a smile at Aiden and me. We saw ourselves out of the bustling cabin and made our way towards the lake, wandering aimlessly.

Aiden was still hung up on Lucas' behavior. He kept telling me that Lucas wasn't really a jerk, just arrogant, and he didn't have anything against me when they had been talking about me earlier.

"Why were they asking about me?" I asked, puzzled, cradling my hurt hand in my healthy one. "I just got here. I mean, maybe they were nearby when Jeff or whoever hit me with that volleyball, but…does he have this angry thing towards unlucky people?"

Aiden snorted. "They weren't. They have off period when I do, and we were all hanging around the rock wall. And besides, Lucas isn't the luckiest person himself. He's not quite as bad off as you tell me you are, but he's not exactly winning every hand in a card game, either. No, they found me and were asking me if I was positive that you were a son of Nike, what you were like, how old you were, if you had any training. It was weird; Natalia and Lucas were really intense, and Kellie was nervous."

I bit my lip, tugging on the constricting binding. "I don't understand," I said, sighing. "I haven't even had a chance to do anything yet."

Aiden grinned and cuffed me around the head. "Don't let it get to you. It's your first day, everything gets better from here." He glanced at his watch and let out a curse in a weird language. "Ancient Greek," he explained when he caught my questioning glance. "And we need to be in our cabin for the call to mess in about five minutes. Let's head on back."

Later that night, after the bonfire (which was amazing), I lay in my bunk in my cabin, lights out, staring at the ceiling. The pale birch wood was glowing in the silver moonlight, and the crickets were chirping in the woods outside. Fireflies, late for the season, flickered on and off sporadically outside the window. The only noise besides the crickets was the distant roar of the ocean and a soft breeze.

I turned my face to my pillow, letting my emotions back into my head after a day of suppression. The first thing I felt, and the strongest, was the sense of loss that had haunted me since my dad died; the second was an overwhelming wave of confusion at all of the stuff that was happening to me; followed by a softer, sadder sense of grief for Mrs. Bridget, and then bewilderment at the monster that had attacked, and hopelessness that had echoed deep down while I watched my only family drive away and leave me in this place that made no sense. Rejection hissed dark thoughts in my mind when I thought of my informal greeting from my mother, and Hermes' attempt to soften the emotion had only worked a little. But still.

I wouldn't let all of this beat me down. I couldn't. I had to survive this, because really, this was nothing next to my dad. My dad, who was so strong, who taught me never to judge and never to give in, was gone, and without that pillar of support I felt that my world was collapsing. But I would find even footing on solid ground, because that's what my dad would do. He had shown me how to live. I just had to follow his example. Because I clearly wasn't my mother's son – I was my father's. More than anything, I was his. And I wouldn't let him down.

With those thoughts echoing sleepily in my head, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

But sleep didn't offer the comforts it usually did.

My dreams were nonsense, most of the time, just stupid stuff. But this dream was different. I was lying on cool, gritty sand at the base of a gigantic pyramid at night, moonlight glinting off of the ancient stones. I scrambled around, putting the pyramid at my back, and looked up at two gigantic figures towering over me. They were fighting.

"You have put us all at risk, you fool!" screeched one. Literally screeched. His eyes were black, and his head was shaped like an hawk's. I gulped and tried desperately to sink into the sand underneath me. The cruel, unforgiving curve of his beak was harsh in the silver light.

"You know nothing of risk, Horus," replied the other man, his voice icy cold to Horus' heated violence. His head was a bird's as well, but I couldn't tell which kind. His beak was long and slender, curving down, and the feathers on the back of his head were rising. "You have learned nothing, still rash and foolish in battle now as you were all those eons ago. This is larger than us alone."

Horus responded with an avian hiss of displeasure. "God of wisdom – it is a false title if I have ever heard one! Over-pretentious preening creature that you are, what do you know of anything? We are strong, powerful, our thrones secure, as opposed to those weak-minded beings who dare to call themselves gods. They are made of nothing but human flaws, Thoth! What would you have them involved in, pray tell? Shall they be made our equals?"

"It is what the time calls for, Horus, and you know as well as I that when Fate intervenes there is little we can do, save to help it along its way." Thoth's calm voice was belied by the still-at-ready ruff of feathers on his head. "They are not as weak as you say."

"Weaker, then!" spat Horus. "The Greeks have always been weak, and they remain so! They are degenerates, removed from their home by migrating systems and beliefs! We remain strong and secure in the land of our birth and ruling!"

"Be that as it may, it does not change what must be done." Thoth suddenly cocked his head, beady eyes flashing still in the dark. "Be silent for a moment, Horus. I sense something."

I held my breath, my blood pounding in my ears. I could feel the grains of sand digging into my palms, the hard press of the stone against me back, and the constant treacherous thudding of my heart. I nearly shouted in panic when Thoth's cunning bird face focused on me.

"Even now, Horus, see your error. Here is a little Greek among us," he said, no malice in his tone. He leaned forward and made a sign over my forehead with his forefinger and thumb. "Be released, and dream no more this night." He pressed his index finger against my forehead. My world went black, my mind blissfully blank, and I fell into the sweetest dreamless sleep I had ever had.

When I woke up, the sun was rising.

Blearily, I grabbed my watch from the bedside table. Five thirty was way too early to be awake, but my head was stuffed full of questions and I couldn't go back to sleep. I sighed and settled back against my pillow, sorting through the questions.

I threw off the ones about Lucas and his friends and yesterday, because I knew that I didn't know the answer to any of those. Instead, I focused on the blurry images of the only dream I had had the night before: two half-people arguing in the moonlight. Bird-headed people. What had they been fighting about? Something involving the Greeks, the Greek gods. I think. Maybe. Who were they? Horus and…somebody else. Thor? But no, that was Norse. T-something, I couldn't remember.

I tossed and turned for a few more minutes before deciding that doing nothing wasn't answering the questions. I yanked off my pajama bottoms and t-shirt, pulling on a clean (I thought) white undershirt, my bright orange camp shirt, and a pair of gym shorts. I toed my beat-up tennis shoes on, yawned, checked my schedule, and made my way outside.

There were a few other campers up and on the movie, most of them either Apollo or Hermes kids. Aiden had told me that he and most of his siblings hated being woken up early, the Ares kids weren't friendly no matter when they got out of bed, and most of the other campers didn't care one way or the other. But some Hermes kids liked jogging in the morning, and the majority of Apollo campers were naturally early risers. Big shock there.

It still gave me a weird feeling, seeing these kids and these cabins and thinking about the names of gods that, until a day ago, I'd thought weren't even real. Mythology – the study of myths. Not the study of real stuff. But it was easier to accept than it had been yesterday, and I guess that that was progress. I made my way to the Big House where Chiron apparently stayed. Aiden had named him as the authority on most stuff, so I figured that he could have some sort of insight into my dream. And I needed to tell it to someone – I had to. I didn't know why, but it was a pressing need in the back of my mind.

Luckily, there was already activity at the Big House. I could see people moving around in various rooms, and a few times people crossed in front of the window in the living room downstairs. I tread lightly up the creaking stairs and onto the porch, rapping three times on the door.

"Come in," called Chiron. I pushed into the room, looking around cautiously. The bottom fell out of my stomach when my eyes landed on Lucas Parry leaning up against a Ping Pong table. It only got worse as I took in Natalia off to one side and Kellie sitting on a fold-out chair. She gave me a weak, harried smile; Lucas and Natalia settled on glaring at me. "Oh, Prop, you're awake already! What happened to your hand?"

"T-t-t – a-accident," I finished lamely, unable to focus under the combined glare of the children of Poseidon and Zeus. "S-sorry to bother you, um, I-I-I'll come back later. See ya!" I stepped back out onto the porch, almost slamming the door shut behind me. I swallowed hard and took a shaky breath as I stumbled down the steps. I had just touched the grass when I heard the door behind me swing open.

"We need you in here, Prop," Chiron called out. His lips were a tight line, no sign of the smile that had put me at relative ease yesterday. I felt myself tensing up.

"Are you s-sure?" I asked. My voice was more of a raspy squeak than anything intelligible, but Chiron seemed to understand nervous-speak. He nodded, and the motion looked like a death sentence. Fighting to keep the emotions down, I made my way back into the room. Chiron closed the door behind me and waved me into a chair against the wall. I fell into it, looking steadily at my bandaged hand and concentrating on lacing and unlacing my fingers.

"Chiron, we don't need him!" Lucas's voice was angry, like it had been yesterday, only without the condescending sneer. "He's useless, he can't fight, he apparently can't even win anything. He's a stammering, sniveling coward."

"As I recall, Mr. Parry, you weren't much better when you came to camp, either," Chiron said, his even voice close to snapping. "With training and time, he'll become better."

"We can't afford either," Natalia cut in, voice cold as ice. "You didn't see him with that sword, Chiron. The only reason he knew where the hilt was was because he knew it wasn't pointy. It would take months to even get him to a competent level in swordplay. Months we don't have."

"You have a somewhat valid point, but facts are facts, Natalia," Chiron said, his voice stony. "You heard the line in the prophecy. Victory's son, it said. As far as I know, Prospero is the only son of Nike the camp has ever had, or appears likely to have for the near future."

"He's the worst son of Victory that there could possibly be!" Lucas exploded. I closed my eyes, fighting his words in my head. I wasn't. I wasn't. I wasn't horrible, I wasn't stupid, I wasn't the worst. I couldn't be. I didn't want to be the loser. I never did.

Somehow, it seemed like I always was.

"Prop, I wanted to talk to you about this in a different setting, but as Natalia is so keen on reminding us, we're running short on time." I could sense Chiron standing in front of me, but I didn't lift my head or open my eyes. I was afraid to, because I thought that I might see an acknowledgment of what I was. Of what I didn't want to be.

"There was a prophecy made," Chiron continued, undeterred by my lack of response, "by our current Oracle, a Miss Dare. This prophecy speaks of the reforming of Kronos in Greece. Four heroes are to go on the quest, and three have been chosen. Up until yesterday, the fourth hero was conspicuously absent, and his absence delaying the quest for longer than it should have. The prophecy spoke of a son of Victory – a son of Nike."

My breath wasn't coming out of my lungs correctly, and my brain seemed to be having an abrupt meltdown. "N-n-no," I forced out through gritted teeth, eyes closed. "It's n-n-not me. G-get someone else."

"Prop."

I ignored him.

"Prospero."

I clenched my eyes shut.

"Look at me."

I took a shaky breath and looked up, defiance and fear fighting in my face. He was looking at me, but there was no pity. There was kindness, and sympathy, and the offer of help, but no pity, no confirmation of my status as Ultimate Loser. Nothing that I had feared. The comfort wasn't much, but even the littlest bit helped.

"I don't want a quest," I said, my voice pleading. "I just want to stay here and do the stuff here. I want to be a normal camper. As normal as it gets here, anyway."

Chiron smiled. "Normal doesn't apply here, Prop. You're not normal, I'm not normal, no one here is normal. We don't get a chance to make choices here, Prop. We're dictated by greater powers. Sometimes gods. Sometimes not. We don't get the choice of whether we want a quest or not."

"There are always two choices," I said, automatically parroting my aunt. I bit my lip. Which one are you choosing, Prospero? asked the little voice inside my head. Are you letting the world run over you, or are you running with the world? Which choice are you making right now? I took another steadying breath and looked Chiron in the eye. "I – I don't want to fall," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "I'll do it."

A sigh of relief from Chiron and Kellie, and a moan of defeat from Natalia and Lucas. "I've been waiting for a major quest like this for five years," spat Lucas, furious. "And he just waltzes in here and gets one?!"

"You are still the leader of the quest, Lucas," Chiron said as he attempted to soothe Lucas's temper.

"Like it matters? With him there, it won't be an honor! It'll be a disgrace!" He glared at me. "No other camper has gone on a quest this quickly, and definitely not one this big within their first three years, even. What makes him so special, huh? He can't even get his own mother's trait right! He's a loser, Chiron, not a victor!"

"That is enough, Mr. Parry!" Chiron roared. "I will not stand for you speaking that way to another camper, no matter how angry you are! To your cabin, now!" His expression cold, he turned to the remaining two girls as Lucas stormed from the room. "Go pack your bags. Argus will be bringing you to Manhattan in three hours." They left wordlessly, Kellie shooting me a somewhat friendly, sympathetic glance. I tried for a smile, and she sent one back as she closed the door behind herself.

Chiron sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. "My apologies, Prop," he said at length, collecting himself. "I am not normally so temperamental, but Lucas is being particularly mulish on this subject, and he had no right to say those things. But you didn't come here for this drama. Is there something wrong?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Why would I burden this person with my stupid dream? It was a dream, not anything else, and he clearly had enough on his plate. He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Whatever is bothering you," he assured me. "It will not kill me, I promise."

I sighed and related what I remembered of my dream to him, mimicking the gesture the T-named man had used with his hand to send me away. When I finished, Chiron was frowning and staring into space thoughtfully. "Horus," he muttered. "And Thoth, I suppose. Well, this is an interesting turn of events. And, as it happens, it is related to your quest. Come with me."

We rose and walked into a room deeper in the house, a comfortable-looking living-room sort of place. He stood by the fireplace, and I sat on the couch opposite him. "At the beginning of August, Miss Dare, the Oracle, relayed a prophecy to us that went as follows:

To home of old four heroes go,

And there will meet a reborn foe.

But Greece alone cannot not succeed -

Another pantheon must lead.

Victory's son will persevere,

At cost of that which he holds near.

"Victory's son is, of course, you. Home of old deals with the original home of the gods – that is, the land of Greece. We are assuming that a reborn foe is Kronos, of course, but until recently the two lines below that mystified us. We are aware of the existence of other gods outside of the Greek system, but we know of none that have taken an active role in many centuries. It is here that your dream is illuminating – Thoth and Horus are Egyptian gods, and from what you remember of their dialogue it is clear that the Egyptian pantheon is now dynamic again after having been in stasis for a few hundred years."

I looked at him skeptically. "It was a dream, though, just…my mind, my subconscious. Right? It could mean anything."

He raised his eyebrows. "You need only look at your own mind to know that you know that that is not the truth."

I sighed and plucked at the bandage on my hand. "I guess."

He smiled and laid a hand on my head. "You should go pack and then eat a good breakfast. Argus, our security chief, will drive you to Manhattan in about three hours to allow Natalia to obtain permission to fly, and then you'll board a plane to the U.K. in the next hour or so. You need your energy."

I left him behind in the room and I left the house, not looking back. I packed what little I had unpacked, moving like I was in a dream, and the food I ate was tasteless. I scraped some bacon and pancakes into the fire in the middle of the dining area and whispered up a prayer to my mother just like Aiden had told me to. Hey, Mom. I know that you're not proud of me – but I'll try to do the best I can. I will.

"Why so somber, Prop?"

Aiden came up from behind me, ruffling my hair as I walked back to the table. He had told me yesterday that it used to be divided by god, but now there were too many, so there were just huge, long tables for all the campers to use. He slung his leg across the bench as he sat next to me, heaping his plate high with scrambled eggs and buttery grits. "So what's with the long face?" he asked, slurping a glass of orange juice, gray eyes fixed on me.

"I have a quest."

Then I had a face full of orange juice.

"Oh gods, I'm so sorry – here, have my napkin!" Together, we wiped the sticky orange juice off of my face, his expression apologetic but still a little shocked. "Do you really – a quest? But you just got here yesterday! You're so new! What is Chiron thinking?!"

I wiped more juice off of my face and began to wring out my shirt. I focused on the table, the plate, the steaming biscuits, anything but Aiden. "There's a line in this prophecy about a son of Victory, and they think that it means me."

"Who else would it mean? And who's 'they'? And why aren't you looking at me? I swear, I'm not going to spit in your face again, that was an accident and I really am sorry."

I tried to laugh. It was a sort of pathetic attempt. I looked up at him and sighed. "I don't – I feel like a coward, because I don't want to go on this stupid quest. I don't, and apparently questing is a big deal or whatever, and – I'm just a new kid. I want to get used to this first. I'm afraid, Aiden."

He laughed. "Is that why you're avoiding my face? Because you're ashamed? Prop, for my first quest, I'd been here for three years and I was terrified out of my mind. You're brand new, you lost your dad, you got a head wound in the first two seconds on the campground, you're not completely oriented – I'd have been long gone by now. You're braver than I would've been. There's nothing to be ashamed of, I promise." He smiled at me, eyes crinkling at the edges, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Now, who are they?"

I sighed, all happiness gone. "Those jerks from yesterday and Kellie."

He gaped. "Is that why Lucas and Natalia were so upset?"

"He's angry because this is his major quest, and I'm inexperienced, a burden, and a jinx. He doesn't want me going with them. I guess he was testing me yesterday, I don't know. Natalia feels the same way, I guess. Kellie…Kellie's nicer than they are, that's for sure."

"Hey, at least you'll have an ally," he sympathized, chewing thoughtfully on a slice of bacon. "When do you leave?"

I checked my watch. "Two and a half hours."

He nodded, crunched down the last of his bacon, and rose, plate and food in hand. "Come with me" he said. "I'm going to make my offering, and then we'll find out how much swordplay we can teach you in two and a half hours."

"Ow!"

I was flat on my back in the dirt in the arena for what felt like the thousandth time, but was probably only the twentieth or so. Aiden loomed over me and offered me a hand up, which I took gratefully.

"I don't think that swords are my thing," I told him, retrieving the weapon I'd been practicing with from the dirt a few feet away from where I'd fallen. "Maybe archery?"

He grinned at me. "Yeah, like I'm letting you near a bow and arrow. Maybe the sword is weighted wrong for you. Is it balanced?"

"Is it what now?"

He chuckled. "Balanced. Even. Easy to swing."

"Oh. No."

He rolled his eyes, minus exasperation. "Here. Try this one. Lighter."

I fumbled the catch and managed to avoid cutting off my toe, which counted as a good thing in my book. Grunting, I hefted it up and swung it once or twice, but it was still…off. So were the heavier swords that I tried, and the rest of the light swords.

"I like clubs," I offered, handing the latest blade back to Aiden with an apologetic expression. "Just whack things."

He laughed. "It has the advantage of being simple, I guess, but we don't actually…have clubs, here. I don't think, anyway. Here, try one of these."

He pulled out a short, stout sword that looked a little bit more durable than the other swords he'd showed me. "This is a broadsword," he explained. "For a while, the Hephaestus kids were experimenting with different types of weapons. It's a Roman blade. Better for close-up fighting. Try it out."

I did, and I wound up getting the blade stuck in the ground. I shot Aiden a look, and he smiled. "Okay, broadswords out. How'd you even do that?"

"I don't know," I moaned, tossing the bronze broadsword onto a shimmering pile of weapons.

"Well, this is the last of our blade stock," he told me, reaching into the back of the armory closet he was drawing the weapons from. "I should say 'these,' since they're meant to be used as a pair." He re-emerged with a pair of strangely curved knives with short, stout handles. "I'm not too big on the whole foreign weapons thing, but these are called kukri – I think. From Nepal, maybe? All I remember is that Chiron told us that they were mainly used for slicing, not stabbing. I don't know how you'll be with them, but hey, we're kind of out of options."

Sighing, I took them into my hands. Aiden helped me hold them correctly – the actual edge of the blade was pointed inwards and slightly up, with the curves nearly coming together. He then walked me through the easiest attack with the kukri, something he called the stab and slice. "First, you jab one blade into their gut. They double up instinctively, and you cut off their head. Simple!"

I stared at him blankly. "You're kidding me, right?"

He sighed. "You've killed a monster before, Prop."

I bit my lip. "Yeah, but – decapitation? I – I don't know if I can do that. Mentally or physically."

He blew some hair out of his eyes. "They're monsters, Prop. They will kill you and your friends. They will kill your aunt, they will kill me, they will kill anything that they feel like killing. The only way to keep that from happening is to kill them first."

I swallowed. "I'm still not the strongest person, Aiden."

"The heads on the knives are heavier," he said. "They were basically designed for this purpose. You don't need to be Hercules."

I looked down at the wickedly sharp blade in my hand as it glimmered, bronze shining in the overhead sunlight. "There won't be any blood, will there?"

"Just dust," Aiden assured me. He put a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, Prop. It's okay. Do you think you can use these?"

I pressed my lips together and nodded. They felt better in my hands than anything else had before this, and they were easier to use than anything else we'd tried. "I can do it," I said.

Now I only had to convince myself.

We practiced for the remaining half-hour until I was sweaty and panting. I still had half an hour left to shower and report to the bus.

Still, there was something burning in the back of my mind. Something Chiron had said.

"At cost of that which he holds near."

What was I going to have to lose?

A/N

...dude, I'm kind of shocked with the update rate. It's really freaking me out. D:

In other news...kukri/kukhri/the gurkha knife is a real kind of knife, and the attack described is the most common attack used. Commonly, they don't come in pairs, but I like a double-blade attack. So sue me.

And Lucas is just a cranky biotch. He's not that bad. Really. :D

See you guys in...um...another couple of days, I guess. XD