Hey, guys. I'm back. This chapter is most unfortunately extremely similar to the corresponding one in the book. My apologies.
The second she saw the house, Reyna was certain she was dead.
She resisted the urge to frown. What was wrong with her? Fighting off storm spirits with a gold knife? Sure! Walking into a house? Terror, mixed with the strong urge to run away. It was ridiculous.
Mitchell, who had been chattering about the gods and smiling the entire time they had been walking, flashed another grin. "Here we are. The Big House, camp headquarters."
Reyna didn't say anything. She stared at the house. It didn't look threatening. There was nothing about it that justified the dread she felt in the pit of her stomach. It was just a four story manor, painted baby blue with white trim. The porch had lounge chairs, a card table, and an empty wheelchair. Wind chimes shaped like nymphs turned into trees as they spun. It was like a vacation home for old people.
But she felt like the windows were glaring down at her, felt like the bronze weather vane pointing in her direction was telling her to turn around. Every molecule in Reyna's body told her she was on enemy ground.
"You're going to be perfect here," Mitchell said.
What?
That had come out of nowhere. Reyna examined him closely. There was a motive behind the comment. She just didn't know what it was.
He was still smiling warmly at her. She was starting to think that smile never left his face. Reyna supposed he was good looking, with his green eyes and chiseled features, but his proximity to her was making her uncomfortable.
She raised an eyebrow at him. He rushed to explain himself. "Reyna, you're, like, perfect heroine material. Talent and good looks? Perfect combination, really."
Talent?
How did he know whether or not she had talent in anything? Reyna thought back, trying to remember if anyone had mentioned her killing the storm spirits after they had arrived. She didn't think anyone had.
Then Reyna realized that Mitchell wasn't looking at her anymore. His smile was directed at her, but his gaze kept flickering upwards, above her head.
"You're looking for a sign," she guessed.
Mitchell looked surprised, almost panicked at first. Then his face eased into a grin. "Caught me there. Um...from what I've heard, you're a powerful demigod. I guess your parent's going to claim you right away, and I really want to see that. So, tell me – is it your dad or your mom?"
It finally clicked in Reyna's mind. "Mitchell, I'm not lying about my amnesia."
Mitchell blushed. "No! I never said you were lying, I just thought you might have a guess..."
Reyna's lips twitched upward in mild amusement. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a terrible liar?"
Mitchell laughed a genuine laugh at that. "All the time, actually."
"I suppose that's what Drew wanted?" Reyna pressed. "For you to find out if I was telling the truth?"
Mitchell nodded. Reyna looked away from him and back at the house. Every instinct in her body was screaming at her to run away. But it was too late for that – she could hear footsteps from the house, coming onto the porch. No, not footsteps – hooves.
"Hey, Chiron," Mitchell called. "This is Reyna. Annabeth said to take her to see you."
Reyna nearly stumbled backwards. Rounding the corner was a man on horseback. No, that wasn't exactly right – the man was part of the horse. From the waist up, he was a man with curly brown hair and a well trimmed beard, with a T-shirt reading World's Best Centaur and a quiver and bow strapped to his back. From waist down, he was a white stallion.
He started to smile at Reyna, then froze. The colour drained from his face.
"You...you should be dead."
Chiron invited her inside. The way he asked her to come in made it sound like an order. He told Mitchell to go back to his cabin. The son of Aphrodite departed with a grin, waving at Reyna.
Chiron trotted over to the empty wheelchair on the porch. He slipped off his bow and quiver and backed up to the chair, which opened up. Chiron stepped into it with his back legs, somehow managing to fit into a space that should have been much too small.
His lower half disappeared and the chair folded up again, popping out a set of false human legs covered by a blanket.
"Follow me," he told Reyna. "We have lemonade."
Lemonade? Despite her discomfort with the situation, she had to resist the urge to laugh at that. What was it, last luxury before they shoved her in front of a shooting squad?
Oh no, of course not, Reyna tried to reassure herself. Surely they don't shoot people here. Decapitation, perhaps?
The living room looked like it had been swallowed by a rainforest. Grapevines grew up the walls and across the ceiling, leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes. In the back of her mind, Reyna realized that that shouldn't seem right to her – plants shouldn't grow that way, at least not in the winter.
But for some reason, the sight of the plants soothed her slightly, assuaging some of the unease. It made no sense, but it felt like home.
Leather couches faced a stone fireplace where a crackling fire blazed merrily. Wedged in the corner was an old-style Pac-Man arcade game. Masks were mounted on the wall – Greek theatre masks, feathered Mardi Gras masks, Venetian Carnevale masks with big hooked noses, carved wooden African masks. Grape vines grew through the gaps in the mask.
A stuffed leopard's head was mounted above the fireplace. It looked horrifically alive, eyes following Reyna around the room.
She held back a shudder. Taxidermy. How barbaric.
Then the leopard snarled. Reyna nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Now, Seymour," Chiron berated. "Reyna is a guest. Behave yourself."
"That thing is alive," Reyna said.
Chiron rummaged through the side pocket of his wheelchair and brought out a packet of Snausages. He tossed one to the leopard, who snapped it up. "Yes, he is. You'll have to excuse the décor. This was all a gift from our old director before he was recalled to Olympus. He thought it would help us remember him. Mr. D does have an odd sense of humour."
"Mr. D," Reyna repeated. "As in...Dionysus?"
Chiron nodded, smiling as if she were a student that had given him an answer better than he expected. He poured lemonade, his hands trembling slightly, as if her comment, while good enough to merit a surprised smile, wasn't good enough to allow him to relax.
"Yes. As for Seymour, Mr. D liberated him from a Long Island garage sale. The leopard is his sacred animal, you know, and he was horrified that someone would stuff such a noble creature. He assumed that life as a stuffed head mounted on a wall was better than no life at all, and granted it to him."
Seymour bared his fangs at Reyna and sniffed the air.
"Please, sit," Chiron said, gesturing at the couches. He leaned back in his wheelchair and tried to smile. The old man's eyes were dark, weary and deep, the eyes of a person who had lived a lifetime of pain and suffering. "Would you mind explaining to me exactly how you arrived here?"
Reyna told him, starting from the point at which she had woken up on the bus. She didn't see the point in lying or leaving anything out. Chiron was a good listener, and he didn't make her as uneasy as Annabeth had. He didn't react to anything she said, other than the occasional nod.
When she finished speaking, Chiron nodded slowly, as if Reyna came bearing the worst news possible. He took a sip of lemonade. "I see. I'm sure you have questions."
"Yes," Reyna admitted. "Such as, what did you mean when you said I should be dead?"
Chiron studied her with concern. "My girl, do you not know what the marks on your arm mean? The colour of your shirt? Do you not remember anything?"
Reyna held his gaze for a moment before looking down at her forearm and the tattoo inscribed upon it: SPQR, the crossed sword and torch, the four parallel lines.
"No," she said, looking up again. "Nothing."
Chiron sighed heavily. "Do you know where you are? Do you understand what this place is and who I am?"
"You're Chiron," Reyna said. "My guess is that you're the same centaur from the stories, the trainer of heroes. And if you're here, like all the kids out there...this is a camp for demigods, children of the gods."
"So you believe these gods still exist?"
"Yes," Reyna said automatically. She paused then, considering what to say. She felt remarkably alert, like she was treading on dangerous ground. As if any minute, she'd have to fight for her life. "I mean...the gods are a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the centre of power shifts."
"I couldn't have put it better myself." Chiron's voice seemed to have changed somehow. Before Reyna could think about how, he went on. "You know about their existence. You've already been claimed, haven't you?"
"I don't know," Reyna answered. "I don't remember."
Seymour the leopard snarled.
Then it clicked in Reyna's mind. Chiron had spoken in a different language and she had understood, automatically switching to the same tongue.
Reyna shook herself and made a conscious effort to switch back to English. "I'm sorry, what exactly was that?"
"You speak Latin," the centaur observed. "Few demigods do. Most can recognize a few phrases, of course – it's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice."
Reyna thought, trying to understand the implications of that. She still felt like she shouldn't be there. The fact that she spoke a language that most others didn't wasn't helping. The whole place felt wrong – dangerous.
But Chiron wasn't threatening. The centaur seemed genuinely concerned for her, afraid for her safety.
The fire reflected in Chiron's eyes, making them dance fretfully. He sighed heavily. "I have taught for millennia, Reyna. I have seen countless heroes come and go. It is very rare that they have happy endings. It is a curious thing, but it is far easier to grow used to pleasure than pain – it still breaks my heart every time one of my pupils dies. But you...you are not like any pupil I have ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster."
"You must be an inspiring teacher," Reyna said. She bit her tongue. She really needed to start thinking before she spoke.
"I'm sorry. But it's true. I had hoped that after Percy's success, we might have some peace."
"Percy Jackson?" Reyna asked. The name had been brought up earlier in the day. She knew that name. It should mean something to her. "The one who's missing."
"Yes," Chiron confirmed. "I hoped that after he succeeded in the Titan War and saved Olympus, I might be able to enjoy a final triumph, a happy ending, perhaps even retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come."
Reyna looked away from Chiron, into the depths of the flickering flames. The last chapter...
It sounded familiar, painfully so. History repeats itself.
What had happened after the Titan War, in the myths? She should know. She really should. She knew there had been a brief period of peacetime, and then...another war. But with whom?
"All right," she said slowly. "The worst is yet to come. But you never answered my question – what did you mean when you said I should be dead?"
"I wish I could explain, child. But I'm afraid I cannot. I swore an oath upon the River Styx and all things sacred that I would never..." Chiron frowned. "Yet you are here, in violation of that same oath. That, too, should be impossible. I don't understand. Who would – "
Seymour the leopard howled. Reyna's hand flew to her knife's hilt. He stopped mid-howl, mouth frozen, half open.
The arcade game in the corner had stopped beeping. The flames in the fireplace had stopped flickering, solidifying like red glass.
Chiron, too, had stopped speaking. Reyna leaped off the couch, but Chiron kept staring at the spot in front of him, mouth half open, just like Seymour's. His eyes didn't blink. His chest didn't move.
Reyna, a voice said. At the sound of her name in the still, silent room, Reyna whipped out her dagger.
For a moment, she thought the leopard's head had spoken. Then dark smoke boiled out of Seymour's mouth, and another thought occurred to her: storm spirits.
Her grip on the knife tightened.
The mist took the form of a woman, dressed in black robes. A hood was pulled over her face, but her eyes glowed brightly under its shadow. A goatskin cloak was wrapped around her shoulders.
Would you attack your guardian? the woman chided. Her voice echoed in Reyna's head. Lower your weapon.
"Guardian?" Reyna repeated. She didn't lower her dagger. "Who are you? How – "
Our time is limited, child. I do not have time to answer all your questions. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to garner the energy to work the smallest magic through these bonds. I have little time, and even less energy.
"You're in prison." Reyna was growing less and less inclined to lower her knife. "I don't know who you are. And you are not my guardian."
You know me, the woman insisted. I have known you since your birth.
"I don't remember."
No, you don't, the woman agreed. It was necessary. Since your birth, I have guided you, my girl. I kept you alive, for I knew you would grow to become my champion. It is time to pay your debt.
"I don't – " Reyna started to say.
Find me, the woman in the mist said. Find me and free me from my prison, else their king shall rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed and your memories lost forever.
"Is that a warning or a threat?" Reyna said. "You took my memories?"
You have until sunset on the solstice. Four, short days. I believe in you. Do not fail me.
The woman dissolved, and the mist curled back into Seymour's mouth.
Time unfroze. Seymour's howl turned into a cough, as if he were choking. The fire crackled to life once more. The arcade machine beeped, and Chiron said, " – dare bring you here?"
"The lady in the mist, perhaps?" Reyna offered.
Chiron looked up in surprise. "Weren't you just sitting...why are you holding a knife?"
"I think your leopard just ate a goddess," Reyna said wryly. She told him about visit, the smokey figure that had disappeared into Seymour's mouth.
"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "This does explain a lot."
"Would you mind explaining to me, then?" Reyna said. She paused briefly. "Please."
Before Chiron could say a word, footsteps reverberated on the porch outside. The front door blew open, and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging another girl between them. The girl's – Drew, Reyna remembered – head lolled like she was unconscious.
Reyna lowered her knife and rushed over. "What happened?"
"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way. "Vision."
The red haired girl looked up. Her face was pale, eyes glistening with tears.
"I think..." The girl gulped. "I think I may have killed her."
Chapter question: Favourite kind of chocolate? I come with good news – my poll is now closed. It shall be Reyna, Leo, and Drew to go visit Hylla.