POTTER FILES : THE LIGHTNING THIEF
Chapter 4 : Exploring the Camp
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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.
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Once Percy got over the fact that his Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour, though we were careful not to walk behind him. Let's say, we did not trust Chiron's back end the way we trusted his front.
We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the Minotaur horn Percy was carrying.
Another said, "That's him ."
Another pointed at her and said, "That's her."
Having already had some experience with fame, I gave them a friendly wave. It helped that I was famous for a greater achievement than merely surviving.
Most of the campers were older than her. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters.
She suddenly had the distinct impression that she was being watched. She looked back at the farm house but found no one.
"What's up there?", Percy asked Chiron pointing to the uppermost window of the attic gable.
It seemed that Percy had managed to spot something she didn't. He looked where Percy was pointing, and his smile faded.
"Just the attic."
"Somebody lives there?"
"No", he said with finality, "Not a single living thing."
She got the feeling that Chiron was telling the truth. She wanted to ask about it but she could see how uncomfortable he was. While she knew that here Necromancy was one of the domains of Hecate rather than a field of magic that was declared as Dark Arts and banned, she personally preffered dead to stay dead but she understood that Hecate children had the right to practice their arts as long as it didn't harm anyone. 'Live and Let Live' policy and all that.
"Come along, Percy, Iris", Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced, "Lots to see."
We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.
Chiron told us that the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus.
"It pays our expenses", he explained, "And the strawberries take almost no effort."
He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.
They watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. She wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music, well...without damaging the eardrums of bystanders.
She wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.
"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" Percy asked Chiron. "I mean ... he was a good protector. Really."
Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."
"But he did that!"
"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate ... ah ... fate of your mother. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."
She tried to not think about Sally's 'unfortunate fate' as Chiron put it. She knew why Chiron had used that term. There was no proof of her death. For all she knew, the woman was still alive in the Underworld under Hades' clutches being punished for having child of his rival.
If there was one thing she learned as the friend of Neville Longbottom, it was that being alive was not always a good thing. She and Hermione had visited St. Mungos last summer with the Longbottom family and the sight there reduced them into tears. His father was sitting there with gaunt face and sunken eyes as still as a statue with no reaction to outside stimuli. If he did not blink once in a while, he would have been declared dead long ago. His mother, nothing like the beauty she was before the attack, can move slowly but cannot talk or even recognise their son. She atleast had the privilege to know that her parents died as heroes while Neville had to watch his parents, pale shadow of what they once were, live a cursed existence wishing for them to die but feeling guilty for giving up on them.
She hoped that Percy would not have to endure such pain but hope was all she had. The corpse of Sally Jackson would sent a good message to Percy and his father but Sally reduced to such a cursed life would serve as a long term reminder for them.
"They do know that Grover had to be dragged inside because he was magically exhausted after helping me kill the Python, right?", Iris asked.
"Yes, they do. I believe that is the reason they are discussing the issue rather than outright rejecting him.", Chiron replied.
"When you say a Python-"
"Yes. The one Apollo killed to get control of the Oracle and earn the title of God of Prophecies.", she replied.
Percy looked deflated. From what she had seen of his posturing in front of the Annabeth girl, she could guess his thoughts. Killing a Minotaur didn't seem like a great feat when there was someone who killed the mighty Python. She considered reminding him that it was a team effort but decided against it. A little humility would not hurt him much. It might even cause him to think before pulling stunts like the one with Mr. D. Hopefully. She did not want her new friend to become the late one.
"He'll get a second chance, won't he?", Percy asked Chiron.
Chiron winced and said, "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. As you know, his second attempt cannot be classified as success or failure. Usually, in those cases, failure of the first attempt would have weighed against him and he would have been rejected immediately. Once he is rejected, the decision is for life and is unchangeable. But, his actions against Python showed a potential they could not afford to waste. It is a complicated situation. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age..."
"How old is he?"
"Oh, twenty-eight."
"What! And he's in sixth grade?"
"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."
"That's horrible."
"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career..."
"That's not fair," Percy said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"
Iris cringed. She started wondering whether it was too late to get rid of him and find a safer and more tactful friend. Then she remembered that he had just seen his mother kidnapped and his step father was an unhygienic version of her uncle Vernon. Other than Grover, she was the only friend he had. She suddenly didn't feel like leaving him anymore. Curse her and her soft spot for strays.
"Percy, when Chiron said Grover failed the first time, he meant that the demigod he was in charge of died before they reached the safety of the camp. I am sure their godly parent and other loved ones would explain to you in great detail whether it was really so bad.", she paused to enjoy his cringe and continued, "As I said, the godly parent was no doubt furious and would have put pressure on the Council to reject his request. Despite that, the Council gave him a second chance and he hasn't even got the proper success to justify the second chance to the angry parent."
"Come, Percy, Iris. Let's see the woods.", Chiron said in an obvious attempt to move the conversation away from dangerous waters, atleast obvious to her.
As we got closer, she realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.
Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."
"Stocked with what?" Percy asked. "Armed with what?"
"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"
"My own—?"
"I have a couple of knives but they are not the kind that can be used in a game."
"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do. Perhaps, size two for you, Iris. I'll visit the armory later."
We then saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't
seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.
"Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."
Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea.
There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
"What do you do when it rains?" I asked.
Chiron looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird.
"We still have to eat, don't we?"
"Percy, I don't think it has rained here for a long time, if ever. I know that the camp is considered a neutral territory where the children of all gods can live together and mingle freely. Perhaps, thats the reason the gods made it a rain-free zone. Or they don't want their children to have a valid excuse to slack off their training. It has been that way for long enough that Chiron doesn't remember a time before it.", she told him quietly.
Iris shook her head sadly. For once, Percy asked a good question and Chiron decided to be the obtuse one.
Finally, he showed us the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings she'd ever seen.
Except for the fact that they each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory.
Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass.
Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at.
They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).
In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. What was even more more shocking for Percy was that there was a beautiful swan-like bird that, as far as he could see, was literally made of fire resting on her left shoulder.
"Fawkes"
He saw Iris run towards it as if she was greeting an old friend and the bird flying in her direction with similar enthusiasm. She took the bird in her arms and stroked it behind its head.
"What are you doing here, Fawkes? Are you here because you missed my farewell or are you here to welcome me to my new home?", she asked.
The bird trilled something in its soft voice and she seemed to have understood it.
"He usually doesn't come here. But, for some reason, he was quite intent on coming here today.", the girl said with a smile on her face.
"Lady Hestia", Chiron said kneeling on his horse legs and bowed. Others followed.
"Don't bother, Chiron. You know that I don't care much for those formalities. Unless you prefer to called Lady Potter, Iris.", Hestia spoke with a smile on her face.
There was a motherly air around the girl that made them feel warm and safe.
"No. Call me Iris."
"Come here and have a seat, children. You too Chiron. You have been pushing yourself too hard.", she admonished.
Chiron sat down with them after some half-hearted protest. It was amusing to se a grown up centaur being scolded like a child by a 9 year old girl.
With a clap of her hands, she summoned a plate each of everyone's favourite dishes. Atleast he assumed as much as his favourite blue waffles sat in front of him prepared just as his mom would have.
Hestia's clothes suddenly went ablaze startling him. The fire soon molded itself and settled in leaving her in a type of clothing that would have been normal on a Buddhist monk if not for the moving designs on it. The first picture was of a family sitting around a campfire. The second was of a family standing in front of a large lit fireplace in which the man throws something into the fire causing it to grow larger and turn green. The last was of the bird on Iris' shoulder flying majestically leaving trails of fire behind.
"The patron of Floo system and phoenix as your symbol. It is quite appropriate. You are certainly a badass goddess, aren't you?", Iris said with admiration, "So, how did Fawkes end up with the headmaster?"
"Thank you. It has been a long time since someone has complemented me. Badass. I like it. As for your question, it was right after he became the headmaster. I went to warn him that tough times were coming. I felt sad that he had to fight a war against another tyrant closer to home after he had already given his best in the previous war against the son of Silver tongue. Sadly, any help I could provide was limited. So, I made him my champion after the necessary oaths were taken and gave him a companion who he can count on for support during the dark times. The phoenix is respected and revered in all magical societies even if they had forgotten the reason for it. I figured he could use all the help and support he could get.", she had a contemplating look on her face for a moment before she shook her head and continued, "Let's not talk of depressing matters on a wonderful day, children. Come on, everyone. Eat up."
While they started eating, Fawkes suddenly flew up and started circling around them. He started singing and she felt all the tension in her body drain away. She could see the effect the song had on the others. Percy was smiling for the first time since she had known him, a happy relaxed smile. If what she was seeing was any indication, he would be the most well sought after boy in the camp. Chiron looked like a heavy burden of sorrow and regret that no one noticed he was carrying had just been lifted. He looked younger, more energetic and happier. Suddenly, Fawkes burst into fire and disappeared startling them.
"What happened? Where did it go?", Percy asked.
"He is in England right now with the headmaster, Percy. What you just saw was their method of instantaneous travel.", Iris replied.
"Hestia, it was nice of you to treat us but we have to get going. They still have a lot left to see.", Chiron told the goddess.
"Don't mind me. It was nice to have a company once in a while. Iris, you should know that a friend of yours will be coming here soon to join you."
"Hedwig? I know. I believe she is familiarising herself with our new home.", Iris replied smiling.
"In that case, continue on your journey, children. I will not be taking any more of your time."
She suddenly vanished leaving the fire burning. It was as if she had never been there. Chiron shook his head and then continued to show them around.
The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them.
Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.
"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guessed.
"Correct," Chiron said.
"Their cabins look empty."
"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."
Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot.
Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty?
He stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.
It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. He peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"
Before Chiron could pull him back, he caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place felt so sad and lonely, he was glad when Chiron put his hand on his shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy."
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
Number five was bright red-a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists.
The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow them. Inside he could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on him and gave him an evil sneer. She reminded him of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red.
We kept walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron's hooves.
"We haven't seen any other centaurs.", Percy spoke.
"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. Iris might tell you later about our Celtic counterparts who are capable of divining the future by observing the skies. But you won't see any here."
"How much am I actually allowed to tell them, Chiron?", Iris asked.
"Oh, they know about the magical society, at least one in here. If they don't know about the one in England, it is because they had no need to know rather than the Gods hiding it. Gods have only removed the knowledge of their existence from the records of the wizards of Europe. The magical creatures there and magicals here know the truth. There is no need to hide anything here.", Chiron replied.
Percy spoke, "You said your name was Chiron. Are you really ..."
He smiled down at them and said, "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Heracles and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."
"But, shouldn't you be dead?"
Iris winced. She decided that she would recommend Percy as God of Tactlessness and Thickheadedness.
Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish ... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."
Percy thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't have made his Top Ten Things to Wish For list.
"Doesn't it ever get boring?"
"No, no", he said, "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."
"Why depressing?"
Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.
"Oh, look", he said, "Annabeth is waiting for us."
The blonde girl we'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.
When we reached her, she looked him over critically, like she was still thinking about how much he drooled.
Percy tried to see what she was reading, but he couldn't make out the title. He thought his dyslexia was acting up. Then he realized the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to him, literally Greek.
There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.
"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"
" Yes, sir."
"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."
Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it... ?
A caduceus.
Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center. Iris now understood that when Chiron mentioned the cabin eleven being filled to its limits, he meant it quite literally. She felt thankful that she did not have to stay there. She had a great fear and hatred of tight, enclosed spaces as they reminded her of her childhood in the cupboard under the stairs, the room in the corridor and even the Chamber compared to the beast.
Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.
"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."
He galloped away toward the archery range.
Percy stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at him, sizing him up. He knew this routine. He'd gone through it at enough schools.
"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."
So naturally he tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of myself.
There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.
Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven."
"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.
He didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."
Everybody groaned.
A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward.
"Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."
The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.
"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. He then looked at his first demigod friend and knew that it was not his imagination. The expression on her face sent a shiver down his spine and he suddenly felt sympathy for the blond girl.
She saw them looking, and her expression hardened again.
"He's your counselor for now."
"For now?", I asked.
"You're undetermined", Luke explained patiently, "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."
He looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given him. He had nothing to put there to mark it as his own, no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag; all of them had burned down along with the car. Just the Minotaur's horn. He thought about setting that down, but then he remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves.
He looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing him as if they were waiting for a chance to pick his pockets.
"How long will I be here?", Percy asked.
"Good question", Luke said, "Until you're determined."
"How long will that take?"
The campers all laughed.
"Come on", Annabeth told us. "I'll show you both the volleyball court."
"I've already seen it."
"Come on."
The girls grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside. He could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind him.
When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."
"What?"
She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."
"Yes Annie. When you saw Luke, you realised that he was the one.", Iris said wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"You shut up! That's not what I meant. And don't call me Annie.", Annabeth said with gritted teeth and red cheeks.
Iris held her hands up in a sort of surrender gesture though the grin on her face was indicative of more teasing to come.
"What's your problem?", he was getting angry now, "All I know is, I kill some bull guy-"
"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told him. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"
"To get killed?"
"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"
I shook my head. "Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."
"Yes."
"Then there's only one."
"Yes."
"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So ..."
"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."
"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."
"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them arche types. Eventually, they re-form."
Iris shook her head in exasperation. She could not understand why she chose to use complex words when he had difficulty absorbing simple ones.
"Percy, you know that the Olympus and the Underworld are connected to mainland America, right?", he nodded, "Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld is the place where monsters are formed and return to after their death. They come above the ground after some time. The more powerful the monster, the more time it takes unless it has the backing of a powerful deity."
"You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"
"The Fur ... I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."
"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"
"You talk in your sleep."
"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"
Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open up and swallow her.
"You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."
"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?", Percy whined, "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."
He pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or ... your parent."
She stared at me, waiting for me to get it.
"My mom is Sally Jackson," I said, "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."
Iris sighed. She had been doing a lot of that lately. Now she had to choose between doing the duty of a friend by helping her convince him and enjoy the entertainment that came with Annabeth trying to convince Percy on her own. Tough choices.
"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."
"He's dead. I never knew him."
Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids.
"Your father's not dead, Percy."
"How can you say that? You know him?"
"No, of course not."
"Then how can you say—"
"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."
"You don't know anything about me."
"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."
"How—"
"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Iris tried to keep her giggles in but some came out. Annabeth, so focused on her tirade, did not seem to notice that Percy looked ready to cry due to his embarrassment.
"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD-you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battle field reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."
"Annabeth, just so you know, I have ADHD but not dyslexia.", Iris said.
"Are you magical?"
"Yes"
"That might be the reason. Hecate's children and children of some minor gods like Iris also don't have dyslexia. You would think Athena being the Goddess of Wisdom would give her children immunity to dyslexia but no, we have to suffer through it."
"You sound like ... you went through the same thing?"
"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."
"Ambrosia and nectar?"
"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."
A half-blood.
Percy was reeling with so many questions he didn't know where to start.
Then a husky voice yelled, "Well! Two newbies!"
Iris looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering toward us. She had three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean looking like her, all wearing camo jackets. They slightly reminded her of Dudley's gang but any similarities ended with the size. Dudley's gang consisted of fat lumps, wannabe gangsters and cowards who believed that their numerical advantage and their parents would keep them safe. Their size was more of muscle and less of fat. They were the real deal. They were dangerous. If they end up alone against a group, they would only fight more ferociously and mercilessly, like a cornered animal.
"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"
"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."
''Erre es korakas!" Annabeth said, which she translated from Greek as 'Go to hell!'
"You don't stand a chance."
"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward us.
"Who're the little runts?"
"Percy Jackson, Iris Potter", Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."
Percy blinked. "Like ... the war god?"
Clarisse sneered. "You got a problem with that?"
"No," he said, recovering my wits. "It explains the bad smell."
Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."
"Percy."
"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."
Clarisse gave a hand signal to other two girls which she roughly translated as 'The boy is mine. Take the girl.'
"Clarisse-" Annabeth tried to say.
"Stay out of it, wise girl."
Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it.
Confession time. She ran away. Yes, yes, she knew it was not very heroic of her. But, she knew that in situations where victory was not possible, strategic retreat was the wiser option. As far as she remembered, her last name was not Lee or Chan. Magic was not an option. She had decided on arriving there that she would only use magic only in life and death situations and even then only if there was no other way. While ensuring that no one knew the limit of her magical abilities, it also ensures that she was not dependent on it. For the same reason, using poisoned daggers was overkill. So, she took the only option available. Escape now and strike when she has the advantage. She might have pushed Annabeth on to the two Ares girls and used a subtle Tripping Jinx to ensure that they fall with her on top. Really, the girl wanted to protect them from the bullies, she just needed a push, pun intended of course. What Ares kids had gained in strength, they had lost in speed. By the time they got up, she was far out of their reach. The girls might have returned to deal with Percy who, as far as she knew, had given his Minotaur horn to Annabeth and was readying himself for a heroic fight. She did not why he believed he was the reincarnation of Bruce Lee but, for his sake, she hoped he was right.
X-X-X-X-X
They marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined them from the meadow. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls came out of the woods-literally straight out of the woods. He saw one girl, about nine or ten years old, melt from the side of a maple tree and come skipping up the hill.
He then saw two nymphs chatting animatedly with each other gesticulating with their hands. One of them turned to look in his direction. She smiled the moment she saw him and gave him a friendly wave shouting his name. He was surprised. He did not know that they knew his name. He awkwardly waved back but for some reason she seemed familiar. It was now that she completely stepped out of the forest that he realized that she was not a nymph at all. She was his friend Iris. He hoped she never learned of it. It would be too embarrassing.
Iris was chatting with her new friend Lizzie when she felt eyes on her. She turned and found Percy looking in their direction. She gave him a friendly wave shouting his name and got an awkward one in return. To her surprise, he did not seem to have recognised her. She wondered whether he became so slow that he forgot her. Considering that it was Percy, it was quite possible. Silly boy.
In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads.
At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, but cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. She saw Percy squeeze on to the edge of a bench with half his butt hanging off and thanked her good luck.
She saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D and sat next to him. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur.
Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her gray eyes and honey-blond hair.
Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"
Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"
Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue!
Her glass was empty, but Grover said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want-nonalcoholic, of course."
"Chocolate shake"
The glass was filled with thick brown liquid. She took an experimental sip.
Seeing his raised eyebrow, she said, " I am a growing girl."
"Yes. Lot of growing up to do.", Grover muttered.
"What did you say, goat boy?", she asked.
"Nothing.", he squeaked.
"Here you go, Iris", Grover said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket.
She loaded her plate when she noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the center of the pavilion.
She wondered if they were going for dessert or something.
"Come on," Grover told her.
As she got closer, she saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire, the ripest straw berry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll.
Grover whispered quietly, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell."
Grover approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Pan."
She was next.
She did not know whether there was a one god per dinner rule but she decided to risk it.
She scraped the first slice of brisket into the flames.
Apollo
The next...
Artemis
The next...
Whoever my parent is
The next...
Hecate
The next...
Hestia
When she caught a whiff of the smoke, she didn't gag.
It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. She could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke.
When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for their attention.
Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."
A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table.
"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have two new campers today. Peter Johnson-"
Chiron murmured something.
"Er, Percy Jackson and Iris Potter," Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."
Everybody cheered. They all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along.
They sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, she felt that she was home.
Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and she went to her assigned space in Big House while they all filed back to their cabins. She didn't realize how exhausted she was until she collapsed on her sleeping bag.
When she closed my eyes, she fell asleep instantly.
That was her first day at Camp Half-Blood.
She wished she'd known how briefly she would get to enjoy her new home.
X-X-X-X-X
As you might have noticed, I have cut off the parts that are exactly canon. No point in wasting your time by making you read what you might have already read many times.
Next chapter will have the official claiming of our favourite demigods. Stay tuned.
It was amusing to see many say Artemis just because Iris has red hair. Don't forget that while the Sun is usually golden yellow in colour, it turns red during sunrise and sunset. It might or might not be a clue to her real parent.
Anyone wants to know what Iris looks like, the photo with the story is hers.