Chapter 3
No one looked at him as they made their way through camp.
Most of the campers were older than him. Like a lot older than him. The camper he thought looked closest to his age was twelve. That was six years older than him.
Percy looked back at the farmhouse. It was really big. It looked like it had three or four floors, was painted blue like the sky. He glanced at the brass eagle on top of the building when a shadow flickered in the window of the attic. The curtain had suddenly moved, and a cold and eerie feeling crept up his spine.
"What's up there?" he asked Chiron.
Chiron looked where he was pointing and his smile faded. "Just the attic."
"Is there something in there?"
The centaur hesitated, like he was choosing his words carefully: "Not a single living thing."
Percy believed him. But there was something about the attic that made him feel like something was strange.
"Come along, Percy," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little tense. "Lots to see."
They walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe. Chiron said 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 that effect on fruit-bearing plants. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.
Percy watched the satyr play his pipe. The music was causing all the bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like it was a disease. Smirking, he snatched a strawberry and ate it.
The campers picking berries all gave him weird looks, but they carried on with their business.
"My mom would've took one for me," Percy said in defence.
"Taken," Chiron corrected. "And… I'm sure your mother would have…"
"Now she's in the Underworld."
"Yes."
"Chiron?"
"Yes, Percy?"
"Hades is the god of the dead, right?"
"Well, Lord of the Dead. He does not personify death itself. That is Thanatos' job. But he is the lord of the dead and god of riches."
"Then… then who is the god of shadows?"
Chiron raised an eyebrow. As the centaur looked at Percy, the boy tried to remember the figure that killed his mother. The shadow had a hat on…some sort of helmet or something. Like Hades'… Helm of Darkness.
"There is no specific god of shadows, my boy, but there are deities of the—"
"But Hades has a Helm of Darkness, right?"
Chiron's expression darkened, as if he knew what he was thinking.
"The Helm of Darkness encases him in the shadows, yes, but such power would radiate far. The Olympians would know if he was in New York wearing his Helm of Darkness."
But an idea was already beginning to grow in Percy's head. He didn't pay attention to the rest of the tour. Chiron just led him through the camp until they made it to the cabins, which were the weirdest assortment of buildings Percy had ever seen. Every single cabin looked different. As he stared, he caught Chiron talking to Nathan as they stood outside the Athena cabin.
The giant owl above the door glared daggers at him the entire time. Soon, Chiron was galloping off, and Nathan was speaking to him: "Hey, Percy. Come on, we're going to make a quick visit to the Hermes cabin and then we're going to have a little sword fighting lesson, 'cause, uh, I'm the sword instructor here. And the Hermes cabin is up next."
"Okay."
Nathan led him to the Hermes cabin, which looked the most human… the most ordinary. The brown paint was peeling. The whole thing looked old. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. He couldn't remember what it was called.
"Mortals… well, they're not the smartest people," Nathan said from beside him. "That's a caduceus, staff of Hermes. But it's sometimes misused as the rod of Asclepius."
"Ask-leh-what?"
"Asclepius. A-s-c-l-e-p-i-u-s. He's an old Greek god of medicine. Most people forgot about him. The Romans started it. From what Chiron says my siblings and I have determined that Asclepius faded during the European Dark Ages because the Romans made Apollo the god of healing and medicine. And Apollo's graciously embraced that. His kids have power of healing. Some of them. And I guess the Greeks during the rise of the Roman Republic accepted that fact."
"Gods can die?"
"They don't just die… They die-die." Nathan paused, looking for the right words. "We don't know where they go, but probably a safe haven somewhere in Chaos. They never come back… usually. Human spirits… human souls, which include demigods, are able to be reborn into this world. But gods can only fade if their source power has been destroyed or are forgotten. And they don't come back unless… Chiron said that it was dark magic. That's all I know."
An old story flickered in his head. "So like that satyr who shouted that Pan was dead."
Nathan's eyes flickered with warning. "Don't let satyrs hear you say that. For thousands of years, satyrs have been searching for Pan. They won't believe that he's dead and… or gone. I don't know if he is gone. Looking at human pollution, it's easy for demigods to conclude that he is dead but…" Nathan stopped himself. "Let's go inside. Meet your new cabin mates."
The two of them stood in the doorway, and Nathan whistled to catch everyone's attention. All of them glanced at Percy at one point or another as Nathan began speaking.
"Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven."
"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.
Nathan said, "Undetermined."
Everybody groaned.
"Undetermined?" Percy asked.
"Their godly parent hasn't claimed them yet," Nathan explained.
"The gods don't say hi?"
"Unfortunately, no."
"But Chiron said they're here in America. Can't they come?"
"No… but good, good. You're embracing the fact that the gods are still living in America today. I know it's hard to believe at first, but you'll get used to it. We're all family here. And I doubt people would dare trick an innocent six-year-old."
Percy noticed he gave certain people pointed looks.
One of the older girls took a step forward. "Yeah, you pretty much know what it means. Undetermined means 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 or dad, is the god of travelers."
"There are twelve cabins, right?" Percy asked.
"One for each of the Olympians. The heads are Zeus and Hera. No one stays in those cabins. There are also the Poseidon and Artemis cabins which no one lives in. Long story for Zeus and Poseidon. But, uh, there's the Dionysus cabin across from us. There's Aphrodite, number ten; Hephaestus, nine; Apollo, eight; Athena, six; Demeter, four."
"You forgot about the Ares kids," Nathan reminded.
She gave him a dark look. "Don't even get me started on those little—"
"Demons," someone said quickly.
The Hermes kids gestured toward Percy, which confused him. What were they referring to? Was it something that she was going to say?
"Doesn't matter," Nathan sighed. "You're having sword-fighting class with them, and you're stuck with 'em. And that class is right about now."
It took a while, because the Hermes cabin was as crowded as Times Square during the holidays. Well, actually, New York—especially Manhattan—was busy throughout the year. But it didn't matter. What mattered to Percy was that he couldn't find a balanced weapon; there was no sword or knife that felt comfortable in his hands. Nothing seemed to suit him.
They started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor.
Percy learned quickly that the Ares kids were like bullies. They were rude, mean and, aside from their head counselor, were pretty ugly. The head counselors from both cabins fought often. It turned out the girl that had stepped up in the Hermes cabin, Rose, was the head counselor for Hermes. And Brooklyn was the name of the Ares head counselor.
They looked like they were going to kill each other, which was exciting and scary at the same time.
"You know what, Rose?" Brooklyn growled. "I will go polish my spear. So I can run you through during capture the flag."
"Erre es korakas!" Rose shouted, which Percy recognized as "Go to the crows!" in ancient Greek. He figured it was more insulting than it seemed.
"Hey hey hey!" Nathan tried intervening. "Stop it you two."
"Don't get involved in this Nate," Brooklyn snapped. "You're just going to make this problem worse."
"You wanna fight?" Rose challenged Brooklyn.
As quickly as a viper, Brooklyn lunged with her sword, hit the base of Rose's and twisted, putting her whole weight into a downward thrust. Rose had no choice but to drop her weapon, and Brooklyn head-butted her.
"Not a chance," said the Ares head counselor.
The rest of the class was a giant fight between the Hermes and Ares cabin. Percy just stood aside and watched. By the end of class, most of the Hermes kids were tired and injured. A couple had to go to the infirmary.
Nathan still forced them to go to archery.
But apparently Chiron didn't want Percy at archery. When the Hermes group arrived, Percy saw a satyr standing next to him. He looked a lot younger than Coach Hedge. The briefing was brief. Percy learned that the satyr's name was Grover Underwood, and Grover would be in charge of leading him around.
"So, how do you like camp so far?" Grover asked nervously.
"It's fun."
"Really? Rose told me that you were fighting an Ares kid."
"She was nice. She shook my hand."
As they spoke, they passed by the twelve cabins, which caught Percy's attention. He stopped walking, and the satyr stopped to see what he was looking at.
"Oh," Grover exclaimed. "Well, those are the cabins. I'm sure you've been introduced to them."
"Why is there no Hades cabin?" he asked.
"I guess the same as why he doesn't have a throne on Olympus," Grover shrugged. "He got the Underworld. The land of the dead."
"They're scared of him," Percy decided.
"Who?"
"Zeus and Poseidon. They're scared of Hades."
"I wouldn't say that. I mean, if Hades did have a cabin here…" Grover shuddered. "It would be freaky."
"Nathan said Zeus and Poseidon have cabins that don't have people in them. But Zeus had a lot of kids: Perseus and Hercules. And so did Poseidon: Theseus and Orion. Why don't they have people in them?"
Grover shifted uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon and Hades—agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. They wouldn't have any more kids. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side, and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx. The most serious oath anybody can make."
Thunder boomed.
"So there are no kids of Zeus or Poseidon?"
"Not that we know of."
"Not since the World War II?"
Grover sniffed and gave him a hesitant look. "No. We would probably know about any. Children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a smell that attracts monsters. By the time the child is seven or eight, it's not safe for them to be in the mortal world anymore. That's why most children of the Big Three are killed."
"But there used to be a lot of Big Three kids?" Percy asked.
"Yeah. That shows you how many times Zeus and Poseidon had…um…affairs with women."
"Children of Zeus can shoot lightning, right?"
"I don't know. I've never seen one."
"And Poseidon?"
"I… I guess the ocean really helps them."
"Hades?"
"I wouldn't want to meet a son of Hades. That's for sure."
Percy looked at the two big cabins. "If Poseidon, Zeus and Hades kids are the most powerful, what are the others? Athena, Hephaestus, Apollo, Hermes."
"They are good at other things," Grover sighed. "Like the Athena kids are smart. The Apollo kids are good at archery. Hermes kids are tricksters and thieves. And Hephaestus kids are good at metalwork. Making swords and stuff like that. It all depends on their parent."
"So if I'm good at something, people know who my dad is?"
Grover grimaced. "Well, Percy. The gods are busy. And, uh, sometimes they forget about demigods. Ignore demigods. Your dad may never claim you. I forgot to tell you, Chiron and Hedge told me a bit about you, so I know your mother was a mortal."
"What?" Percy knit his eyebrows in confusion. "My dad might not look for me?"
"At least half of the kids in the Hermes cabin are unclaimed. Their godly parent never claimed them."
"Half?"
Grover held up both his hands. "Out of ten people, five of them are not claimed." He closed one hand.
Percy counted his fingers and looked up in shock and surprise. "That's a lot."
"It's sad. But it's true. The gods don't pay attention much."
"They should."
"But they don't."
Percy looked down. Along with all of the weird things he'd been through, he remembered something happy. It was like a warm glow. Like a powerful presence. It could have been a dream, but he was sure that it was real.
When Percy went to bed that night, he couldn't get the feeling of loneliness out of his head. He was alone with no mom, a dad who would never talk to him, and no friends. He was younger, and the other kids were intimidating.
He cried into his pillow, and as he fell asleep, he thought he heard a dark, raspy voice say "There there, Percy. Everything will be all right. The gods may not care about you, but there are people who do. Don't cry."
And for four years, Percy Jackson trained to become one of the best swordsman camp had seen for centuries for his age. But every night, he would delve into darkness where a voice goaded him, lured him to hate the Olympians. And with every day that passed, the angrier he felt toward the gods for never helping him. Not even in the slightest.
Then came the arrival of Luke Castellan.
I'm going to be gone for a little while, but it won't really affect anything. Just another build-up chapter. If there's anything I can improve on, tell me nicely. Thanks.
SharkAttack719