POTTER FILES : THE LIGHTNING THIEF
Chapter 3 : Pinochle with a Horse
X-X-X-X-X
Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.
Note : The timeline of the HP universe has been changed to fit PJO universe. Some slight changes have been made to HP canon to fit girl Harry. So, Iris (fem!Harry) Potter was born on 31 July 1993 and COS happened in 2005-2006.
X-X-X-X-X
Iris woke up a few times before going back under. She remembered vaguely lying in a soft bed being spoon-fed something that tasted like a buttered croissant. Only it was pudding. A girl with curly blond hair with neat looking grey eyes hovered over the green-eyed girl, smirking as she wiped off some stray bits from the redheaded girl's chin. The girl then noticed that her eyes were open.
"Since the other one didn't know, maybe you can help. What will happen at the summer solstice?", She asked, well, more like interrogated.
"What?", Iris moaned out, her eyes blinking at the naturally lighting in the room.
The blonde looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear.
"What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"
"Leave me alone.", The small girl mumbled and then turned back to sleep.
She awoke again and the interrogating girl was gone while a guy was in her stead. A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over her. He had blue eyes- at least a dozen of them-on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands. Naturally, she fell back to sleep again.
When she finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about her surroundings and she saw a window by her side. Outside of it, she gazed across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The window was cracked open as the breeze came in and smelled like strawberries. It was heavenly to her really, like something out of a postcard.
She yawned a bit, clicking her tongue somewhat and felt as though she'd been in Egypt for a while from how dry her mouth was. While looking around, she realised that she was in another infirmary…she was really starting to hate ending up in one all the time!
On the table next to her was some kind of juice in a tall glass. It looked like iced apple juice.
Iris looked at it critically, like it could be poison…but her gut was saying otherwise and when her gut spoke, she tended to listen. Even if it was a poison, she would not be affected as long as it was not a highly potent one. It seemed that the godly energy that flowed through her after she broke the bindings activated the basilisk venom and phoenix tears in her system giving her quicker healing rate along with minor immunity to poisons. It was interesting to see Madam Pomfrey speechless though she believed it was her accidental magic that activated them. Madam Pomfrey also mentioned that she had no idea how good those new abilities would be as she was in a 'transition' state. It did not make her an unbeatable killing machine though. Her increased healing rate was nothing compared to the stories of master vampires or perhaps the reality of Greek gods. It just meant she healed slightly faster than she usually would have. Of course, in the life of a demigod, there would be situations where small advantages could be the difference between life and death.
So, she decided to see if it would kill her or not. Her hand was a bit weak at first, but a few flexes of her finger and rotating of the arm; she got the feeling back in it while picking up the glass, or moved it enough so her mouth could reach the straw.
The auburn haired girl took a tiny sip, just in case, and gasped lightly, it tasted like hot chocolate…it was brilliant. Iris felt a bundle of energy build up in her from the magic drink or whatever they call it here, and felt as though she could lift a troll. She eagerly had some more, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading through her body.
After licking her lips a bit and put the half filled cup on the table, she pulled the blanket off and swung her legs to the sides. She then started her infirmary exercises. Swinging her legs back and forth to get the feeling back in them as while rotating her shoulders, but winced a bit as she moved her left one.
After the bit of stretching, Iris stood up and only wobbled a little bit. She saw her shoulder bag that had Undetectable Extension charm on it and sneakers in the corner and checked it immediately. Her cloak, wand, and all other belongings were in it. Throwing her bag over the good right shoulder and putting her shoes on, she turned to the door and opened it to walk out onto the porch. She took the magic drink with her. As she got out, the window postcard scene was before her but much bigger and it was even more breathtaking. Iris admitted that she could just look at it for hours, it was so peaceful.
There were a few chairs, tables, and lounge chairs spread about the porch. Sitting on one was Percy Jackson, the boy who came with her to the camp. Now that she took a good look at him, he looked about her age, maybe older compared to the petite frame she had. His legs were covered by a blanket and had a pillow to his back. On his lap was a shoebox and in it was a jagged white and black horn.
"...fault"
"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you.", said the curly brown haired boy who she recognised as Grover.
He was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD.
"Did my mother ask you to protect me?"
"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least...I was."
"But why...", the sitting boy asked, sounding woozy, Iris wanted to know too as she took a casual sip from of drink in her hand.
"Don't strain yourself", the goat boy said, "here."
He held the glass to the raven-haired boy's lips.
"Grover"
The boy turned around, and looked shocked.
"Iris!", he said, letting out a nervous bleating noise that sounded goatish.
It was funny.
"You shouldn't even be standing.", he said as he walked over to her while taking the bag from her shoulder and gentle lead her into one of the lounge chairs next to the other boy, much to her protest. The two demigods sat there sipping their drinks until only quarter was left.
"Was it good?", Grover asked them.
Percy nodded while Iris spoke, "It was amazing."
"What did it taste like?", he asked sounding wistful.
Percy looked frowned somewhat while the girl blinked.
Why didn't he have any? Iris wondered.
"Sorry", Percy said feeling guilty, "I should've let you taste."
Grover's eyes got wide in surprise and he said, "No! That's not what I meant. I just... wondered."
"It tasted like hot chocolate to me.", Iris supplied to him.
"Chocolate-chip cookies," Percy said, "My mom's. Homemade."
Iris sighed a bit, lucky him.
He heard her and looked curious.
"Doesn't your mom make you anything home made?", he asked
"No."
"Why?", he asked
"She is dead.", Iris said bluntly.
He winced, "I'm sorry, um, your dad?"
"Dead.", she replied in annoyance.
Take a hint; we all aren't lucky like you. Iris thought darkly.
Percy stopped talking and turned away embarrassed. Iris was thankful.
Grover sighed. "And how do you two feel?"
"Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred yards." Percy answered him happy to get away from this awkward moment.
"Who?" Iris asked
"A bully in my old school." he answered her.
"Oh", she stated with a shrug
"Anyway, I feel like I could run a marathon and not even feel tired a smidge.", Iris said with a playful yawn, getting Grover to chuckle lightly.
"That's good," Grover said. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff."
"What do you mean?" Percy asked in confusion.
Iris frowned, "Yeah, I mean, sure it's a potion or whatever you call it here, but shouldn't we finish it for the full effect?" she asked.
She may have had average grades in potions, which should be higher but the evil potions professor hated her dad's guts, therefore he hated her for being his 'evil spawn' and tries to fail her at every class. Greasy git.
Grover didn't answer and took the cups gingerly, as though they would blow up at any second if he didn't handle them with utmost care.
"Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."
It was then the girl noticed that the porch was wrapped all the way around the farmhouse. Percy's legs looked wobbly as he tried to walk that far. He should have done infirmary stretches like she had. She was feeling better and was able to stand up right.
Grover offered to carry his Minotaur horn and her bag, but Percy had said he'd hold on to it, looking stern. Iris thanked him though while handing it to him, trusting the boy with her stuff.
As they came around the opposite end of the house, Iris caught her breath once more.
They must've been on the edge of the states or something, because on that side of the house, the valley rolled all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, the girl simply couldn't process everything without getting giddy. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture-an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, and a circular arena-except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns shining in the sun. She wondered whether that was what Beauxbatons Academy looked like. She then decided that the next time she saw her headmaster, she would pester him until he sends a group of Hogwarts students including her on a field trip to Beauxbatons to 'encourage international cooperation'.
In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs playing volleyball, which seemed fun to watch. Canoes were gliding across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and some of their horses had wings! Iris knew that the magical world had winged horses, but these looked grander somehow.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blonde haired girl who'd spoon-fed the green eyed witch croissant-flavored pudding and tried to interrogate her, was leaning on the porch rail next to them.
The man facing the kids was small, but plump. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like he could out eat her uncle and cousin, and that was saying something. But he also looked like someone you would always see at a party of the more adult variety, mostly because of alcohol. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt. The main thing that got Iris was how powerful he was. She inwardly shivered at the power rolling off him in waves. Sure, Dumbledore was strong, yes, but this man? He made the headmaster look like an ant, or something even lower on the food chain.
"That's Mr. D", Grover murmured to the kids. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And Percy already knows Chiron..."
He pointed at the guy whose back was to them. First Iris realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. He had a tweed jacket, thinning brown hair; a scraggly beard that fit him just right, unlike the headmaster's whose was so long it was a Merlin wannabe.
"Mr. Brunner!" Percy cried out. The auburn haired girl looked at him funny, why was he shouting? Didn't Grover just say his name was Chiron?
The man looked at them and had this twinkle in his eye that rang some mischief as he smiled kindly.
"Ah, good, Percy, Iris" he said. "Now we have five for pinochle."
He offered Percy and her the chairs to the right of Mr. D, who looked at them with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."
"Uh, thanks."
She scooted away as far as she could from Mr. D. If he was not a drunkard, she was actually Voldemort in disguise. For some reason, the boy followed her lead.
"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl.
She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you both back to health, Percy, Iris."
She was probably her age, maybe half a foot taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair and her well developed...assets both on the front and the back, she was almost exactly what she thought a stereotypical American girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image.
They were startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty in their own way, but intimidating too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take them down in a fight.
"Thank you Annabeth.", she said not wanting the girl to feel that she was ungrateful for taking care of her even if it was due to selfish reasons.
"Though I would have preferred to be interrogated when I was lucid and actually able to answer."
"Interrogation?", Chiron asked confused while Annabeth looked uncomfortable.
It was not hard to put two and two together and get four. Unfortunately, the boy beside her seemed to be the slow type and needed all the help he could get. Well, she might as well help him along.
"Sir, wasn't she authorised to interrogate the newcomers? She asked me what was going to happen at Summer Solistice. Atleast, that is the only thing I remember. Why she thought I was a seer, I don't know.", Iris said with an innocent face.
On hearing that, Chiron looked at Annabeth sternly and said, "We will talk about it later."
Iris enjoyed the sight of her rapidly paling face. While she was impressed by her tactic of extracting secrets from people and using it against them later as blackmail, she was not happy that the girl tried to use it against her. It was a good thing she did not have any secrets important enough for her to worry. She might not have done it if Chiron was like his counterpart in the west when it came to discipline. The most she would get would be a little scolding and the common weapon of adults all over the world : the infamous disappointed look. Atleast that will teach her that she, Iris Potter, was a foe not to be trifled with.
"I believe Albus was the one who introduced you to our world, am I right?", Chiron asked gently to which she nodded.
"Albus?", Percy asked.
"He told me a bit of general information about the origins and about how Gods influenced that side of the pond. As for the others, he told me that it was something I have to learn on my own, something about going off on my own adventure.", she replied.
She noticed that Mr.D's face screwed up in dislike when she mentioned that side of the pond.
She told Percy, "He is the headmaster of my school and a demigod son of Hecate. I will explain more later."
"That sounds like him. It seems he hasn't changed much over the years.", Chiron replied with a reminiscent smile, "He came here at a time when there was a war going on in Europe. We had to take stricter measures on the newcomers to ensure the safety of the campers. The fact that Albus came from England which was in the centre of it only put him under more scrutiny. Most of the demigods here have experienced many hardships and losses like you did in their journey here. They come here because they consider this the safest place for them, their new home, trusting us to protect them. We do not betray their trust by interrogating them when they are vulnerable unless dangers of wartime necessitates it.", he replied giving Annabeth another stern look when he spoke the last sentence.
Iris could almost see Annabeth shrinking like a mouse in shame and started feeling bad. She decided to speak to her later to tell her that there were no hard feelings between them. After all, she was not the first person to cross the line of politeness due to her curiousity.
"Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."
Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."
She glanced at the minotaur horn in Percy's hands, then back at him. Percy sat straighter and slightly puffed out his chest as if he imagined that the grey eyed girl was going to say, You killed a minotaur! or Wow, you're so awesome! or something like that.
Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep."
Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.
Iris started laughing, well, it was more of a cackling like a hyena. She could not help it. The sight of Percy's face with his mouth wide open in shock was so funny. She wished she had a camera with her so that she could capture the priceless moment. Perhaps, the magical world had a way to store memories and take pictures from it. She would have to ask Dumbledore the next time she gets to talk to him.
Once he was sure that she had stopped, Chiron said, "As for you, Iris, with Percy, cabin eleven is filled to its limits. So, we will arrange for you to stay here at the Big House, for now."
She translated the 'for now' as 'until either you or someone in cabin eleven is claimed'.
"So", Percy said, anxious to change the subject, "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?"
Iris resisted the urge to palm her face. There was slow and then there was sssslllloooowwww. How many times did have to be introduced as Chiron for him to understand?
"Not Mr. Brunner", the ex-Mr. Brunner said, "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."
"Okay.", Percy replied looking totally confused.
He then looked at the director and said, "And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?"
"D stands for dangerous, Percy.", she replied hoping that he would take the hint.
Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards.
"Well, atleast someone is intelligent enough to understand. Hopefully, you will not be as bad as the other brats here."
He looked at Percy like he'd just belched loudly, "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I must say, Percy," Chiron broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."
"House call?"
"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to ... ah, take a leave of absence."
Percy tried to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but he did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher his first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr. Brunner had taken the class.
"You came to Yancy just to teach me?", Percy asked.
Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp
Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."
"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"
"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, though Percy didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.
"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyed them suspiciously.
"I'm afraid not", Percy said.
"I'm afraid not, sir.", Iris said.
"Young man, look at the girl. She knows to properly respect her superiors. I suggest you learn something from her. Now repeat after me. 'I am afraid not, sir.' "
Iris knew the only reason Mr. D was complementing her was to piss off Percy. Still, she took it with grace.
"I am afraid not sir.", Percy repeated.
He was liking the camp director less and less.
"Well", he told them, "It is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men and women to know the rules."
"I'm sure they can learn", Chiron said.
"Please", Percy said, "what is this place? What am I doing here? Chiron why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"
Mr. D snorted and said, "I asked the same question."
The camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile.
Chiron smiled at Percy sympathetically as if to let him know that no matter what his average was, he was his star student. He expected him to have the right answer.
"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?'
"She said ...", Percy's eyes turned sad as if he was remembering how she looked, unconsciously looking out over the sea, "She told me she was afraid to send
me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."
Iris sighed. A soft part of her that was buried quite deep due to her less than stellar childhood felt for the boy. He was just starting to see how harsh and cruel life could be.
"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"
Iris held her cards in front of her face to hide the expression of disgust that came across her face. What an insensitive jerk! Even if it might have been true, he did not have to say it to his face. True, the boy was a bit slow on the uptake and had a way of getting on your nerves but he did not deserve that kind of cruelty.
"What?", Percy asked.
Mr. D explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so he did.
"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."
"Orientation film?" Percy asked.
"No," Chiron decided, "Well, Percy. You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know-" he pointed to the horn in the shoe box- "that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either, lad. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods- the forces you call the Greek gods- are very much alive."
Percy stared at the others around the table.
He waited for somebody to yell, Not!
But all I got was Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!"
He cackled as he tallied up his points.
"Mr. D", Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"
"Eh? Oh, all right."
Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully.
"Wait", Percy told Chiron, "You're telling me there's such a thing as god."
"Well, now", Chiron said, "God- capital G , God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."
"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about-"
"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."
Iris noted with amusement that Mr. D did not seem happy to be considered a 'smaller matter'. Perhaps it was a subtle revenge on Chiron's part for Mr. D's previous insensitive comment. She atleast hoped so.
"Smaller?"
"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."
"Zeus," Percy said, "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."
And there it was again, distant thunder on a cloud less day.
"Young man", said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."
"But they're stories", Percy said, "They're- myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."
"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson"-he flinched when he said what she guessed was his real name,- "what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?", Mr. D continued, "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals- they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."
She saw Percy look at Mr. D then at the silent Grover who was dutifully chewing the aluminum can without looking up. It seemed that Percy was finally beginning to see that there is more to Mr. D than it seemed.
"Percy," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"
Percy seemed about to answer that it sounded like a pretty good deal, he hesitated.
"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," he said.
"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that some day people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"
She gasped. That was cruel. It was then that she noticed that Chiron was observing the boy waiting for something. She then understood that he was trying to get Percy angry enough to accidentally use his powers and give them certain evidence of his parentage.
Amazingly, Percy kept his temper under control. Maybe he caught on to their ulterior motives as well.
Percy said, "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods."
She mentally facepalmed. She was getting a headache from his stubbornness and she was not even the one talking to him.
"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."
Grover said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."
"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe.'"
He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine. She saw Percy looking at it as if it was from outer space and she could not blame him. She was impressed herself. As a Transfiguration prodigy, Professor McGonnagal had taught her many tips and tricks that were outside the syllabus. She knew that conjuration of a cup with complex designs was something only a master of the art could do. Considering the fact that it was done without a wand or any other conduit but also that the cup contained wine which was one of the items considered impossible to conjure as stated in one of the Gamp's laws of Transfiguration. If that is not enough proof that he was no mortal, then she didn't know what was. She had a feeling that the boy was staring at it for some other reason.
"Mr. D", Chiron warned, "your restrictions."
Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.
"Dear me.", He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"
More thunder.
Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.
Chiron winked at them and said, "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."
"A wood nymph," Percy repeated, still staring at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space.
"Yes," Mr. D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time- well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away- the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha.' Absolutely unfair."
Mr. D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little kid.
"And ...", Percy stammered, "your father is ..."
"Di immortales, Chiron", Mr. D said, "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."
Percy looked like he was thinking through everything that was told to him to identify the god infront of him. She snidely wondered how much of a hard work it must have been for him but then felt bad about it. It was not right to make fun of someone for being less intellectually gifted than her...well...not too much.
"You're Dionysus", Percy said. "The god of wine."
Ha. Finally.
Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"
"Y-yes, Mr. D."
"Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"
"You're a god."
"Yes, child."
"A god. You."
Iris put her cards down and actually facepalmed. She saw Mr. D look directly into Percy's eyes and his purple eyes started glowing. She saw the raven-haired boy wince many times and even whimper.
She leaned towards Chiron and asked apprehensively, "Is he actually allowed to play around with our minds?".
"Nah! Mr. D wouldn't do anything like that."
If it wasn't usual occurence, Percy must have really pissed him off to get the special treatment.
"Would you like to test me, child?", he said quietly.
"No. No, sir."
The glow died a little. He turned back to his card game and said, "I believe I win."
"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."
For a moment, Mr. D looked like he was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He got up, and Grover rose, too.
"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."
Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."
Mr. D turned to the boy, "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners."
He then nodded at her and swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.
"Will Grover be okay?", Percy asked Chiron.
She wanted to know that too.
Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."
"Mount Olympus", Percy said, "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"
"There is a palace still there, I believe. But, it had been abandoned for many millenia. So, I don't think it is exactly livable.", Iris spoke.
"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece with an abandoned palace like Iris mentioned.", Chiron spoke with an amused smile on his face, "And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."
"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in America ?"
"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."
"The what?"
"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know- or as I hope you know, since you passed my course- the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps- Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on- but the same forces, the same gods."
"And then they died."
Iris sighed. She decided that if she ever rose to a position with some influence in the Olympian Council, she would recommend Chiron as the God of Patience and Perseverance. If he actually succeeds in teaching Percy something, she might even add God of Teachers to it. It was then something else occurred to her. Why wasn't he already a God? True, she might have only been jesting but Chiron had been training heroes for many millenia bringing out the best in them. Surely, some godly parent would have been thankful enough to recommend him for godhood.
"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see
them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not- and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either- America is now the heart of the flame. It
is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."
Iris opened her mouth and then closed it. She could see that Pefcy was confused enough. Mentioning the exceptions at that time would only make Chiron's hard work pointless.
"Who are you, Chiron? Who ... who am I?"
Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he was going to get up out of his wheelchair.
"Who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be smores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."
And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, he thought Chiron was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, he realized that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an
animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached.
Percy stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of his Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.
Despite having an advantage over her new friend of being prepared, Iris was still surprised and impressed. Sub dimensional spaces were quite common in the magical world from multi-compartment trunks to rooms with expansion charms and even her own shoulder bag but still it was a delight to see it at work and the various creative applications it could be used for.
"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy Jackson, Iris Potter. Let's meet the other campers."
X-X-X-X-X
Next chapter will have many clues to Iris' godly parentage. I am sure many of you have already guessed her parent but I am in the mood to be mysterious.