The waves rolled gently off the sand and then back again, stars lighting up the night sky like glowing freckles on its midnight canvas. The fire licked lazily at the heaps of wood below it, flaring up every now and then before settling. He watched it with a certain daze, sea-green eyes reflecting the flames.

His mom pulled a perfectly roasted marshmallow off the tip of her stake, brown on the outside but sticky on the inside. She gave him a heart-warming smile, her own gentle eyes twinkling. Percy upturned the corners of his mouth in reciprocation, finally working up the courage to ask her the million dollar question that he always did.

His voice was soft, curiosity smoothing out the edges. "What was my dad like?" He asked, watching as Sally's eyes went misty.

"Hey was kind, Percy," she responded, and it was the same answer as always, but he was okay with that. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know." She looked up at her son. "And his green eyes."

Her hands fished a blue jelly bean out of the large candy bag between them, Percy watching with mild interest. "I wish he could see you, Percy," she continued. "He would be so proud."

He pondered that for a moment, knowing it wouldn't be true, before popping the next question from his mouth. "How old was I?" Not needing to elaborate but feeling like he did, he added. "I mean, when he left."

Her grin settled, fading away into the features of her face. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right at this beach." Her gaze flickered to the sea. "This cabin."

"But..." He faltered. "He knew me as a baby."

She looked at him, shaking her head slightly. "No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

His eyes widened, and he looked down at his hands in his lap, thinking. "Are you going to send me away again?" He eventually asked. "To another boarding school?"

She pulled out another marshmallow. "I don't know, honey," she told him, disheartened. "I think-" she faltered. "I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" He blurted out, regretting it instantly as the words escaped.

Sally's eyes welled up with tears as she took her son's hand. "Oh, Percy, no. I- I have to, honey. I have to send you away."

He remembered the words that his favorite teacher had said, right before the year ended as they kicked him out. "Because I'm not normal?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she said, squeezing his hand. "You don't know how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I'd thought you'd finally be safe."

Percy looked at his mom quizzically. "Safe from what?" She only shook her head again, looking away.

He let go of their hands, sighing inwardly, thoughts wandering to red-haired girls dying in fountains and ladies in fruit stands. It was a while until his mom spoke up again.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," she muttered. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy- the place that your father wanted me to send you to. And I just-" she paused, voice heavy. "I just can't do it."

He didn't know what to make of that. "My dad wanted to send me to a special school?" He finally decided.

"Not a school," she corrected. "A summer camp." His head was swimming with questions, the feelings showing in his eyes only causing her to look away once more.

She apologized, words sincere. "I can't talk about it. I couldn't- I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" He asked. "But it's only a summer camp-" he stopped, seeing the look in his mother's eyes, unsure if the next question would be enough to break her.

The 78' Camaro tore through the vicious winds, knocking its passengers back and forth, lightning crackling through the skies overhead. Even as the makings of a horror movie came to life before his very eyes, Percy could not stop staring at his friend beside him.

His friend's features lit up from the occasional lights via the storm overhead, revealing hard eyes and nervous expression. And underneath it all, his shaggy goat legs twitched, Percy still unable to break his gaze from the sight. It wasn't every day your best friend turned out to be half donkey, he mused.

"So," he started. "So, you and my mom know each other?"

Grover spared his friend a raised eyebrow, eyes darting to the review mirror. "Not exactly," he answered. "I mean, we've never met in person before. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you," he elaborated. "Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, and Percy believed him. "I am your friend."

"Um," he stuttered. "What are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now," he insisted.

"It doesn't matter?" Percy questioned. "From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-" he was stopped by a sort of irritated bleat.

"Goat!" He cried. Percy raised his eyebrows. "I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter," he accused. Grover rolled his eyes, making the sound again.

"There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!" Percy held up his hands at that.

"Woah," he told his friend. "Wait. Satyrs? Like Mr Brunner's myths?"

Grieve fixed him with a hard look. "Were those ladies a myth, Percy? Was the museum a myth?"

His eyes widened. "So, that stuff really happened? There was a field trip?" Grover nodded, expression turning sad. "And Nancy? I really..." He suddenly felt sick, each jolt of the car too sharp. "Then why-"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you would attract," he replied, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "We put the Mist over the humans' eyes. We had hoped you would think that the field trip was just a hallucination, especially with a Kindly One so close on our trail, but it was no good. You started to realize who you were." Percy remembered the words exchanged in Brunner's classroom, the look in his least favorite teacher's eyes the day before he left.

"Who I am?" Another roar came from behind him, Percy still not knowing what it was, but wanting to know.

"Percy," his mom spoke from her place behind the wheel. "There's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what?" He pressed. Grover gave a sarcastic snort.

"Oh, nobody much," he answered. "Just the Lord of the dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions. Maybe even Mrs Dodds, since she's been having her eyes on you all year."

"Grover!" Sally chastised. The satyr in questions sighed, peering over his shoulder anxiously.

"Sorry, Mrs Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

As she contented, Percy tried to wrap his head around what was happening. She made a hard left, zooming through darkened farmhouses and strawberry fields.

"Where are we going?" He wondered.

"The summer camp I told you about," she answered, voice tight. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go," he commented, tones hollow.

"Please, dear," she begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger." But he didn't want to, if understanding meant that he was leaving his mother, if it meant that his best friend was a goat, if it meant he had killed someone in ways he couldn't comprehend.

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," he whined, and it sounded stupid to his ears, too.

"They weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what that means- the fact that they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to," he faltered. "When someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said 'you.'" His eyes widened.

"No I didn't," Grover insisted. "I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you,'" he corrected. "As in me."

"I meant you, as in someone. Not you," Grover said defiantly. "You."

"Boys!" Sally said, pulling the wheel hard to the right. Percy's eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the things they were running from; a dark fluttering shape, lost to the storm, and a large figure with sharp horns.

"What was that?" He demanded, heart pace quickening.

"We're almost there," his mom reassured. She started to murmur consolations that he wouldn't remember, just as a hard flash of light flooded the car and a weightless feeling overtook him.