The night before the trip, Pat printed out Ariadne's boarding pass – Southwest Airlines, Burbank to LaGuardia, where she would be picked up and brought to the camp on Long Island. For as long as Ariadne could remember, Pat had told her stories about the Greek gods, that she was a very special girl, that one day she would spend summers at a camp for kids like her. It was a cherished, father-daughter bonding ritual, and as Ariadne grew older and story time grew less frequent, tales of the gods began to blend in with stories her other father Lorenzo told her – about Santa Clause and his magical reindeer and the Tooth Fairy with a castle in the sky made of Ariadne's baby teeth.
Pat and Lorenzo had told Ariadne the story of their family so many times she knew it by heart. After moving in together, her dads wanted to adopt a child, but had trouble navigating the adoption system since the state of California did not allow them to marry. Then one day, an old man who had known Pat's grandfather presented them with Ariadne. He claimed that one of her parents was an Olympian god. Pat was intrigued, and believed the man's claims based off stories he'd heard from his grandfather as a boy. Lorenzo was incredulous until the man grew grapevines around their house before their very eyes. Ariadne loved hearing that story. When she was small, Pat and Lorenzo would tell it to her while picking grapes from the vines that still enveloped the house.
Pat and Lorenzo offered to help Ariadne pack, but she shooed them away. They assumed that she was anxious about being away from home and persisted. But the truth was, at twelve, Ariadne didn't want her dads poking through all of her belongings.
She packed the essentials – enough clothes for a week and a half to two weeks, toiletries, and the stationery and stamps set Lorenzo had given her to write home. Other than that, not much direction had been provided. Neither Pat nor Lorenzo had been to the camp – though Pat claimed his grandfather lived there as a boy – and to Ariadne, the entire ordeal seemed quite surreal.
Ω
The flight was long, and Ariadne accidentally checked the bag with her iPod. She was grateful when the plane touched down in New York. When she got to the domestic arrivals concourse, she was greeted by a huge man who held a sign: "Welcome, Ariadne Farragut-Garcia!" The man, Ariadne realized, must be Argus. Beside him, a boy who appeared to be a few years younger than Ariadne paced back and forth.
"Are we going yet?" he asked impatiently. Argus grunted, and with Ariadne and the boy's bags in tow, headed toward the parking garage.
After they had made it through the New York City traffic, the ride was beautiful – grassy fields, rocky beaches. It was a foggy June day, but the gloom made the surrounding landscape all the more picturesque.
Ariadne pulled a pack of gum out of her carryon backpack, took a piece, and offered one to the boy.
"Thanks," he said. Then, "Ariadne, right? I don't remember you from last summer."
"It's my first summer," Ariadne explained.
"Oh," the boy said. "I'm Connor, son of Apollo."
Ariadne's eyebrows raised. "You mean the Greek god?" she asked.
"Wow, you really are new," Connor remarked. "Yeah, you know what Camp Half-Blood is, right? All of us have one godly parent and one mortal parent."
Slowly, Ariadne nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I heard that, I just never really imagined…" Her voice trailed off. Connor eyed her carefully.
"I'm guessing you don't know your godly parent then?" he said.
"No."
"Well then do you have a mom or a dad?" Connor attempted to blow a bubble with his gum, and it flattened around his lips.
"What?"
"Like who do you live with?"
"Oh," Ariadne said. "My dads."
Connor looked confused, but then nodded in realization. "So then your godly parent must be your mom," he concluded. Then he smirked. "That must have been interesting for your other dad."
"No, no." Ariadne shook her head. "I was adopted. I don't know who my biological parents were. My dads said that some old man gave me to them when I was a baby."
"Hmm." Connor scribbled a picture into the condensation on the van window. "I guess it's hard to know then. I suppose that man could have been your dad, but gods aren't usually into old people. Or gay people."
Ariadne smiled. Eager to change the subject, she said, "What grade are you in?"
Connor scowled. "I just finished fourth, but I have to do fourth again next year. This year, I got kicked out too early in the year."
"Oh," Ariadne said. "I'm sorry." After a pause, she offered, "I'm going into seventh." She wondered why she was only now old enough to go to camp, when Connor was at least a second-year camper and clearly much younger.
"Bet you got kicked out of a lot of schools," Connor said matter-of-factly.
"What?" Ariadne was taken aback. "No, never." She quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
Connor cocked his head. "You never got kicked out of school?" Ariadne shook her head. Connor looked pensive. "But you do have ADHD and dyslexia." Again, Ariadne shook her head, perplexed by Connor's specificity.
"Well that's odd," said Connor.
For a half an hour or so, they were silent. Ariadne reached into the trunk and pulled her iPod out. In the distance, she saw a sunny valley amidst the June gloom of its surroundings. Connor pointed to it, and Ariadne removed her earbuds.
"There," he said. "There it is. That's Camp Half-Blood."
Ω
As soon as they entered the valley, the world around them had grown bright and the gloom disappeared. While Argus led Ariadne and Connor toward a large, sky-blue house apparently called "The Big House," Connor rattled off last-minute facts.
"The weather's always sunny at Camp Half-Blood," he explained. "There's weather control. Oh, and Chiron is the head of camp. Actually, technically it's Mr. D, but he hates us all. He got in trouble with Zeus and has to be here as punishment." Connor took his gum out of his mouth, wrapped it up, and placed it in his pocket. "He's always a jerk, but you need to be nice. He's a god."
"A god runs Camp Half-Blood," Ariadne said in disbelief.
"Yeah, Dionysus."
Chiron greeted them at the door. He was a middle-aged man who sat in a wheelchair, but somehow felt taller when he spoke. Connor was sent to Cabin 7, the Apollo Cabin, to unpack, and Chiron asked Argus to head down to the infirmary.
"I spoke to your father last night, Ariadne," Chiron said as soon as they were alone. "Patroclus cares for you a great deal." Ariadne was surprised to hear her father's full name.
"I don't know who my godly parent is," she told him.
Chiron smiled. "Most campers do not when they first arrive. We'll put you in Cabin 11 – Hermes's cabin – for the time being."
"When will I find out?" asked Ariadne. "Who my godly parent is, I mean."
"In good time, child." Chiron wheeled himself over to a dining room, and Ariadne followed. "For now, let's find you some food. You must be hungry after your flight. I'm afraid dinner has already passed."
Ariadne looked up at an old-fashioned cuckoo clock on the wall. It was after eight o'clock despite how bright it was outside. This, Ariadne resolved, was no normal summer camp.
"Indeed, it is not," Chiron said as if he had read her thoughts. "Camp Half-Blood exists to train demigods – heroes like yourself."
"Train for what?"
"To protect yourselves. Heroes like yourself wield great power, and there are beings out there who seek to destroy you."
Before Ariadne could respond, a tall man sporting a full leopard-print suit stepped out of the stairwell.
"Mr. D," said Chiron. "This is our new camper, Ariadne."
Ariadne braced herself for the nastiness Connor warned her about, but Dionysus said, "'Ariadne,' what a lovely name." Chiron looked dumbfounded. But the god continued. "My wife's name is 'Ariadne," did you know that?" He reached out for Ariadne's right hand, and shook it. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."
Mr. D. turned to Chiron, who was still visibly taken aback. "Has she had her dinner? Oh, no mind." He waved his hands, and a silver tray appeared in front of Ariadne on the dining table holding several fine cheeses and crackers. She jumped as a small bunch of grapes grew out of thin air.
"Mr. D," Chiron warned. "Remember what happened last time."
Dionysus rolled his eyes, and the grapes disappeared. "I'm not supposed to produce wine grapes," he explained to Ariadne. He muttered, "Part of my punishment."
Ariadne thanked him for the meal, and ate quickly as Chiron went through her "welcome" folder, which held maps, schedules, and pages of camp rules written in both English and Ancient Greek. Once she was finished, Chiron closed the folder.
"That's enough of that for now," he said. "You must be tired. I'll bring you to Cabin 11 so you can get some sleep."
Ariadne followed Chiron out the front door of the Big House, where he seemed to grow larger – no, outward, as a full horse's body sprang out of his wheelchair and collapsed into thin air. There, Chiron stood, towering above her, his torso and upward resting comfortably where the horse's neck should have been.
"Much better," Chiron said. He motioned toward a group of large houses arranged in a circle across a river in the distance. "Onward!"
