The Demi-god Chronicles: Chapter 3
This chapter is a mashup of 2 different ones. Some scenes will be more violent than the book, fair warning. I also changed the way a demi-god's abilities go. Only when he/she is exposed in a bad way to the mythological world, do their powers start to manifest, sort of like the mutant x-gene, or inhumans with the terrigen mist. (those characters won't be in this story.) That being said, Grayson has quite the bus ride ahead of him (insert grinch smile here.)
THERE'S A HELLHOUND IN THE LIVINGROOM
I'd like to say things went back to normal after that, but it didn't. In fact, it only got worse. I kept asking, practically begging at this point for someone to tell me Mrs. Dodds had been here, but all the students looked at me like I was crazy. They kept saying Mrs. Kerr, a perky blonde woman I swore had never taught at Yancy, had been our algebra teacher since Christmas.
The last half hour of the trip was torture, and by the time we filed back onto the bus, I was ready to lock myself into my dorm room. I gave up asking everybody, and I sat near the back this time, away from Grover and Brunner. This wasn't like any of the past weird experiences I'd had, usually they were over quickly. I'd get a reprimand from a teacher, and that's the end of it.
This, however, felt like I was hallucinating, and I couldn't handle it. The bus started away from the museum, and I could hear the whispers from the other students. Freak, weirdo, psycho, you name it, I heard it. I tuned them out as best as I could, and tucked my legs up to chest, staring out the window.
Mrs. Dodds, or whatever had been Mrs. Dodds, stuck in my mind. It was vampire-like, and that thought scared me most. Things like that don't exist... right? But I had no other explanation for it. I reached under my collar for the charm, and raised it to my eyeline.
My dad said this belonged to my mom, so she had to have known something. I clenched it in my fist as we made our way out of the city, the skyscrapers, and my home growing farther and farther away. I wondered what they were doing, since Peter would've been out of school by now. I wanted to jump out of the window, and run all the way there, but at the speed the bus was going, that'd be suicide.
Before too long, we weren't even in the city, and the road we were on was lined by forests as far as I could see. We were only on this road for a few minutes, when I felt a sharp pain in my head. It was like someone had poured scalding water into my mind, and then I felt the burning sensation spread through my body. My ears started ringing, and it got to the point where I had to cover them.
The pain behind my eyelids was also unbearable, and tears dripped down my face. All of the voices on the bus grew much, much louder, and I grit my teeth. I could hear every breath, every whisper clear as day, and the fading sunlight hurt my eyes. I tried so hard to block everything out, but it kept getting more intense.
I may have screamed out, I wasn't even sure, but one of the kids sitting in front of me turned around. When he called out for one of the teachers, the sound made my ears hurt even more. Mrs. Kerr's worried face appeared in my vision, as out of focus as it was, and she was gently grabbing onto my shoulder.
I was shaking, of that much I was sure, and the tears were flowing even more now, hot against my face. Everyone on the bus was trying to see what was going on, and I wanted to bury myself into the seat. But my body wasn't responding. The crescendo of voices reached its limits, and my vision started going black. I was vaguely aware of my face connecting with the seat in front of me, and that's the last thing I remember.
*Dream sequence*
The sky above was alive, rain pouring down. Lightning would flash, and every so often, I could see the front entrance to the museum. There was no one else around, and underneath of the thunder, I could hear screeching. When the lightning flashed again, I could see Mrs. Dodds on the other side of the street, morphed into the demon from the gallery.
My feet moved without a second thought, and I started running towards the building. I could hear her wings cutting through the air, my heart rate spiking in terror. I made it into the museum and ran down the corridors. Mrs. Dodds caught up to me, her claws raking across my shin, knocking me off balance.
I hit the floor, sliding for a few feet. I realized we were back in the gallery, and I tried to get back to my feet. Mrs. Dodds didn't give me the chance to run again, pouncing on me, and her claws dug into my arms. She pushed me back to the floor, crouched over me with her fangs bared.
'GIVE ME THE BOLT, AND I PROMISE TO MAKE YOUR END SWIFT!'
'I don't know what that means!' Furious, her claws sank deeper, and I screamed out in pain. She leaned over my face, saliva dripping from her mouth, and I fought the urge to vomit. Her breath reeked of decaying flesh, and sulfur. I kicked her with my legs, but it didn't do a thing, and her clawed feet clamped down on my ankles, pinning them to the floor.
'ONCE I FINISH YOU, MAYBE THE GIRL WILL BE MORE COMPLIANT!' Her teeth extended out further, and in a flash of movement, she bit down into my neck. The pain was white hot, and I couldn't scream out, my vocal cords also being crushed. Feebly, I punched her over and over again, the blood pooling across the floor, and staining my clothes.
*End Dream*
I bolted straight up, my breath caught in my throat, and I swung wildly. Fighting to get a breath, I quickly scanned the room. I was in my dorm, no Dodds, and night had fallen outside my window. Grover was fast asleep on his side, like nothing had happened.
But it did happen, all of it. I don't know what that was exactly on the bus, but something about me had changed. For one, the lights in the room were off, but if I focused, I could see clearly. I could hear conversations happening down the hall from me, and I could make out Brunner's voice all the way downstairs in his office.
This wasn't like on the bus, this was crisp, no ringing in my ears and no pain. I threw off the covers and stood up. I waited to see if I could hold my weight, before going to the window. Pulling the window up, my nose was assaulted with new smells.
It was all coming from the woods that bordered the school. It was as if I was being called to it, like a missing puzzle piece. I heard Grover stirring, and I shut the window, returning to my bed. I didn't feel like talking to him right now, and I pretended to be asleep.
Much of the rest of my school year was like that. I didn't have a whole lot of time to test what I could do, or think about Dodds, but at night was a different story. Visions of Dodds plagued me most nights, and I would wake up in cold sweats. The weather didn't improve, which wasn't helping with my mood.
A massive thunderstorm blew out all the windows in my room one night. As I was cleaning up the glass, I happened to glance out the window, and a falcon was perched on the sill. It just sat there, staring at me with silver eyes, which was odd. Falcons had yellow eyes, not silver.
It just sat there on the windowsill, staring right at me, not moving at all. It vanished as soon as it had appeared. No, not flew away, I mean it literally vanished. A couple of days later, a tornado ravaged the Hudson Valley, only fifty miles from where we were.
In our social studies class, one of the current events was the unusual number of planes that had gone down in freak storms over the Atlantic this year. I began to feel crankier and more irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from As and Bs to Ds and Fs. The number of fights I'd gotten into climbed, more often with Nancy and her friends.
I ended up being sent out into the hallway most classes. The last straw was when Mr. Nicoll, our English teacher, asked me again for what felt like the hundredth time why I was too lazy to study for tests. I snapped, and called him an old washed-up old sot, which sounded good to say. Nancy and a few others snickered, and Mr. Nicoll's face turned red.
May received a letter from the headmaster the next week, detailing what I already knew was coming. I would not be invited back to school next year. I was fine with that, totally fine. Maybe I could get into Midtown later on, but that was just wishful thinking.
I'd be happier there, but I'd miss things about Yancy too. The view of the woods from my window, the Hudson River in the distance, and the smell of the pine trees. I'd miss Grover, even though he lied, he'd been a good friend. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.
I'd miss Mr. Brunner's class most of all. Every tournament day, every time he'd tell me he had faith that I could do better, I'd miss that. As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I bothered to study for. When Brunner had told me about his teachings being life and death, it had stuck with me.
The evening before the final, I got so frustrated, I threw the Greek Mythology guide across the room. I was so tired, the letters on the page floated off and circled around my head. Right now, there was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. Not to mention trying to conjugate Latin verbs was near impossible.
I got up from my bed, and paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt. I was getting myself too worked up, so I went to the window. I breathed in deeply, the smell of the woods bringing me a sense of calm. I remembered Mr. Brunner telling me at the museum, how he only accepts the best from me.
Turning away from the window, I took a deep breath and picked up the mythology book. I made it a point to never ask a teacher for help, not even Mr. Brunner, I was stubborn that way. But maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me a nudge in the right direction. Or at the very least I could apologize beforehand for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam.
I didn't want to leave Yancy with him thinking I'd just given up. Taking the book with me, and slipping on my sneakers, I walked downstairs to where the staff offices were. Most of them were empty, the lights all shut off, but the door to Mr. Brunner's was ajar, and the light from inside stretched out across the hallway. I was only a few steps away from the door, when I heard voices inside. Mr. Brunner was in the middle of asking a question, and a voice that belonged to Grover replied.
"I'm worried about Grayson, sir." I immediately froze and listened to their conversation. I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but when my best friend is talking about me behind my back to a teacher, I couldn't stop myself. I crept closer to the door, and Grover started speaking again.
"He's alone this summer, with a mortal family. I mean, a Kindly One, here in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too..."
"We would only make matters worse by rushing him. The boy needs to mature more."
"But he may not have any time. You felt his power on the bus too. And the Summer Solstice deadline-"
"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Emma is the one who needs to worry about that, not Grayson. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."
"Sir, he saw her..."
"We must play it off as his imagination. The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."
"Sir, I... I can't fail in my duties again. Not like last time. You know what that would mean."
"You haven't failed, Grover, and you know Emma doesn't blame you. As for the Kindly One, I should've seen her for what she truly was. For now, let's just focus on keeping Grayson alive until next-" I dropped the mythology book in shock, and it hit the floor with a thud. Both of them went silent. My heart began hammering in my chest, I picked up the book, and backed down the hall.
The window of his office was blocked by a shadow of something far taller than my teacher who was bound to a wheelchair. Something was being held in its hand, and it looked suspiciously like an archer's bow. Panicking, I opened the nearest door, and slipped inside. A few seconds later I heard a slow clopping sound, like wood striking the linoleum, then the sound of something shuffling right outside the door.
A large, dark shape stopped in front of the glass, inspecting, until it moved on. Breathing a sigh of relief, I felt sweat beading on my neck. Somewhere outside in the hall, Mr. Brunner spoke again.
"Nothing. My nerves haven't been right since the Winter Solstice."
"Nor have mine, but I could've sworn..."
"Go back to your dorm, Grover. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."
"Don't remind me." The lights in his office went out a moment later, but I stayed in the room, waiting in the dark for what seemed like forever. I finally slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm. Grover was laying on his bed like he'd never left, and his Latin notes were all spread out before him. He looked over at me, pretending to be bleary eyed.
"Hey, didn't know you were up. You going to be ready for this test?" I didn't answer, too mad at this point. Grover frowned at me, as I laid out on my bed.
"Is everything okay?"
"I'm just... tired." I turned over so he couldn't see my face, and my mind was racing. I didn't understand what I had heard downstairs. I wanted to believe the whole thing was my imagination. But one thing was for sure, Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me, and apparently, I was in danger somehow.
The next day, as I was leaving the class after the three-hour exam, the Greek and Roman names swimming in my vision, Mr. Brunner called me back inside. I was worried that he'd found out I was eavesdropping last night, but that wasn't the problem.
"Grayson. Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's... it's what's best for you. You're not really a fit here." He kept his tone kind, but his words reminded me of the last foster family I had. They justified bringing me back to the foster home by saying almost the exact same thing. The other kids finishing the test could hear, and Nancy Bobofit smirked at me, making sarcastic kissing faces at me. His words cut into me, and I felt like crying on the spot. I blinked back the tears and mumbled under my breath.
"Okay." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, searching for a more appropriate way to phrase this.
"What I mean... this isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time." Now he really sounded like a previous foster family, and that made my chest constrict. My favorite teacher I've ever had, was telling me I didn't belong here, in front of the entire class. He told me he believed in me all year, and now he was telling me otherwise, like it was a wasted effort for him.
"Right." I was trembling, unable to form words at the moment, and he took notice of the expression on my face.
"No, my dear boy, what I meant was... oh confound it all. What I'm trying to say is you're not normal, Grayson. That's nothing to be-" I couldn't take it another second, and I cut him off.
"Thanks. Thank you, so much for reminding me."
"Grayson-" I walked away before he finished, moving down the hall to my dorm. On the last day of term, I shoved my things into my suitcase, not bothering to fold anything. The other guys were goofing off and talking about all their awesome vacation plans. One was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland, which sounded fun. Another kid was going on a cruise to the Caribbean for a month.
These kids were troubled, like me, but they came from rich backgrounds. Their parents were ambassadors, celebrities, or even Stark Industries employees. But unlike them, I was going home to a family who actually cared. Our plan for a fun summer night was getting pizza ordered in and renting a movie or two. The pizza could be cold, and the movie could suck, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Someone asked me what I'd be doing over the summer, and I told him I was just going to be in the city. Maybe get a summer job walking dogs in the park or helping out at a library close to home. I left out the part about spending all my free time worrying about where I'd go to school once fall came around. He simply nodded and went back to another conversation like I wasn't here.
The only person I wasn't looking forward saying goodbye to was Grover. But as luck would have it, I ended up not having too. He got a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as me, so here we were, together one last time, heading into the city. I was happy to be going home, but during the whole ride, Grover was looking nervously down the aisle, eyes glued to the other passengers.
Looking back on it, he'd always acted this way every time we left Yancy, like he expected something bad to happen. Before now, I always thought it to be he was afraid of getting picked on, but there was no one on here to do so. After about the hundredth time he looked back, I couldn't take it anymore.
"Are you looking for Kindly Ones?" Grover jumped in his seat, looking at me with wide eyes.
"Huh? I don't know what you mean?" I told him I'd been in the hall that night, and his eye started twitching.
"How much did you hear?"
"All of it. What's supposed to happen at the Summer Solstice?" Grover winced, not meeting my eyes for a few seconds.
"Grayson, listen... I'm just worried about you, ok? You were hallucinating about demonic teachers." I got a little mad at that.
"Grover-"
"And I was just telling Mr. Brunner that maybe all the stress from school was getting to you or something. There was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and-"
"Grover! You're lying to me, why?" His ears started to turn pink, and I thought I pushed him too far. But he took something out from his shirt pocket and handed it to me. It was a business card, plain white with small lettering on it.
"Just keep that, alright? In case you need me this summer." The writing was in fancy script, and it took me a second to make it out.
Grover Underwood
Keeper
Half-Blood Hill
Long Island, New York
(800) 009-0009
"What's Half-"
"Don't say it out loud! That's my, uh... summer address." I'd never gave it a thought that Grover's family might be rich, like everyone else's at school, and my heart sank.
"Right. So, if I want to come visit your mansion or whatever."
"Or... if you need me." My response came out harsher than I meant it to be.
"Why would I need you?" Grover's face turned red, and down his neck.
"Look, Grayson, the truth is I... I sort of have to protect you." I stared at him in surprise. The entire year, I'd gotten into fights, and kept bullies away from him. I was out of my mind with worry that he'd be an even bigger target without me there next year. Now he was trying to tell me he was the one who had been defending me.
"Wait, what are you protecting me from exactly?" In the next moment, there was a loud grinding noise from under the bus. The screeching made my ears hurt again, and I saw black smoke billowing from the dashboard. Soon the whole bus was filled with smoke, and my nose picked up a rotten egg smell, making me almost gag.
"Shit!" The driver cursed, and he managed to get the Greyhound to the side of the highway. He spent the next ten minutes bent over, messing around with the engine, until he said we all had to get off. I followed behind Grover as everybody else walked off the bus. We stood on a long stretch of country road, not really a place you'd even notice unless you were purposefully looking for it, or if you broke down.
Our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees, and trash thrown from cars that passed by. I looked across the four other lanes of traffic, and there was an old-fashioned fruit stand. The things they were selling looked delicious. There were boxes full of cherries, apples, walnuts and apricots. Jugs of apple cider sat in a tub filled to the brim with ice.
There weren't any customers, just three old women sitting in chairs underneath a tree, and they were knitting the largest pair of socks I'd ever seen. They were close to the size of a sweater, knitted from an electric blue yarn. The women to the left and right worked on one, and the one in the middle held the basket of yarn. They all looked ancient, their faces pale and wrinkled like leather.
All had silver hair tied back the same way in white bandannas. They looked skeletal, and the sundresses they wore hung off them. But the weirdest thing about it all, was they were all staring right at me across every lane of traffic. I looked at Grover to say something, but I saw the blood had drained from his face.
"Grover? Hey, are you okay?"
"Please tell me they aren't looking at you Grayson."
"Yeah. Kind of strange, right? Hey, you think those socks would fit me?"
"This isn't funny, Grayson." The lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors, one side gold, the other silver. It looked extremely sharp, sort of like shears. Grover grabbed ahold of my arm, dragging me back.
"We need to get back on the bus. Right now."
"Dude, it's a thousand degrees in there."
"Now!" He pried the door open, and tried to pull me inside. I twisted out of his grip, and looked back across the road. The old women were still watching me. When the one holding the shears cut a strand of yarn, I heard it all the way from here. They balled up the socks, and stuffed them into the basket. Over at the engine compartment, the driver wrenched free a sizeable chunk of smoking metal, and the engine started up again.
"Damn right!" He slapped his hat agaisnt the bus as everyone cheered.
"Everybody hop on. Let's get out of here!" Once we were back on the road, I started feeling sick to my stomach, like something bas was about to happen. Grover didn't look any better than I did. He was shivering and his teeth were clicking together loudly.
"Grover, what are you not telling me?" He wiped his forehead against his sleeve.
"Grayson, what did you see at the fruit stand?"
"Just the three old ladies. Wait, they're not like Mrs. Dodds are they?" He didn't answer, but I got the feeling that they were something far worse than Dodds.
"Please, just tell me what you saw."
"The one in the middle took out a pair of scissors, and she cut a piece of yarn." Grover grimaced, and closed his eyes, making a gesture with his hands. I thought he was crossing himself, but this seemed different, something older.
"You saw her snip the cord."
"Yes, but what's-"
"This can't be happening." Grover started chewing his thumbnail.
"It can't be... I don't want this to ne like last time."
"What last time? You mean the thing with that Emma girl?" Grover didn't seem to hear me, just chewing his nails and muttering to himself.
"Every time they manifest... they never make it past that." He was really starting to scare me, and I shook him by the shoulder.
"Grover, what are you talking about?"
"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me, Grayson." I told him I would, though this seemed like a strange request.
"They were just old ladies with some string, why is this-" That's when it hit me. Something we learned in Brunner's class, and how the Greek god Apollo tricked the three fates once.
"Grover... does this mean somebody is about to die?" He looked at me with sadness, like he was picking out flowers to put on my coffin. As soon as we got to the bus terminal in Queens, I ditched him. I know this was probably a stupid decision, and sort of rude, but Grover was freaking me out, looking at me like I was a dead man. Whenever he got upset, Grover's bladder acted up, so I wasn't surprised when, as soon as we got off of the bus, he made me promise to wait for him, then made a beeline for the restroom.
Instead of waiting, I got my suitcase, slipped outside, and caught the first taxi I saw.
"107-24 71st Road, Forest Hills, please", I told the driver. A word about Ben, Peter, and May before you meet them. May Parker used to be May Reilly, and she's one of the best people in the world, which proves my theory that the best people have the most rotten luck. Her parents died when she was young, and she had no real family to speak of. May wanted to be a nurse, so she spent the entirety of high school working to save enough money for a college with a good nursing program.
Then she met Mary, and her boyfriend, Richard, in college. It wasn't until later that May was introduced to Ben. The only good break they both had was meeting one another. Ben came from a low-income family, and both he and his brother worked their butts off to make something of themselves.
Ben was well on his way to getting a senior position in the construction company he worked at. And Peter... well, Peter was an ornery, little ball of energy. I didn't get along with him at first. Everything he did annoyed me, to be honest. It wasn't long though, until I saw Peter as blood.
The love all three showed me got me out of a dark place, and I will forever be grateful for that. When I walked into our little apartment, I hoped they'd be home. I strode past the kitchen, and something on top of the counter caught my attention. My last report card was sitting there, untouched.
'I'll have to explain to Ben why it dipped so low.' I sighed and headed straight back to my room after checking each room to find no one there. My room was as I had left it, the bed made up, and I could smell the lingering detergent on the blanket. The walls were all decorated with posters, the largest being one from WWII.
Captain America stood, saluting whoever looked upon the poster, wanting them to support the war. Everything was the same, and it brought an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort. I dropped my suitcase on my bed. It was almost enough for me to forget Mrs. Dodds' screeching as she attacked me or remembering Grover's look of panic and how he'd made me promise that I wouldn't go home without him.
A sudden chill rolled through me, and my legs felt weak. I felt like something was looking for me right now. Then I heard May's voice, "Grayson?" She opened the bedroom door, and all my fears melted away. May can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her kind eyes sparkle in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. When she looks at Peter or me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about us, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone.
"Oh, Grayson." She hugged me tightly.
"I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas!" Her scrubs still smelled like the anti-septic the hospital staff used. I then caught the familiar scent of goods from Peter and I's favorite candy store. We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I dug into the grape sour strings, she ran her hand through my hair and demanded to know everything I hadn't put into my letters. She didn't mention anything about me getting expelled. She didn't seem to care about that, but only if I was okay.
For her sake, I left out certain things and tried to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I told her I wasn't too upset about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the entire year this time around. I'd made a new friend, and I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I had put such a good spin on the year, I almost convinced myself, until that trip to the museum. I started choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner.
"What?" May asked. Her eyes tugged at my conscious, trying to pull out the secrets.
"Did something happen to you?"
"No, May." I felt bad lying. I wanted to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old women with the yarn, but I thought it would sound stupid. She pursed her lips. She knew I was holding back, but she didn't push me.
"How about tonight, we order in and have a movie night. Does that sound good?" May asked.
I said, "yesh," my mouth still full of sour string. Laughing, May ruffled my hair and went off to change out of her scrubs. It wasn't until an hour later that I heard the front door open again and small feet running across the floor. Peter came bolting into my room, his little backpack dropping to the carpet. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
"Grayson!" He launched himself off of the ground, and I had to embrace him so he didn't fall.
"Hey, Peter." I felt my eyes begin to sting as I hugged my little foster brother. He'd gotten slightly taller since Christmas, and his unruly brown hair was longer than normal.
"How was school?"
"Boring." Peter stuck his fingers in his mouth and locked his brown eyes onto me.
"Are you staying today?"
"Yeah, Pete. I'm here for the summer." Peter's smile widened, and with his fingers still shoved into his mouth, it was adorable. I held up the bag of candy May had brought home earlier, and his eyes widened comically. His little fingers reached up for the bag, giggling with happiness.
"I'd prefer Peter have dinner first, and then he can have a few pieces later." Ben's voice came from the doorway, making me whirl around.
"Ben!" I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around his midsection, earning a chuckle from him.
"Hey, buddy." He rested his hands on my shoulders, causing me to look up at him. I knew by his expression that he wanted to talk about my expulsion from Yancy.
"Peter, go ahead and go to your room. I'll be there in a few minutes to help with your homework." Pete ran out of the room, only stopping to grab his backpack. Ben gestured to the edge of the bed.
"What happened, kiddo? You were getting close to straight A's." I couldn't keep a lid on it, and I told the truth about, well, everything. I left out the bit of my necklace being a sword. When I was done, he didn't look at me like I was insane when I had brought up Mrs. Dodds and the old women. Ben sighed and clapped me on the back.
"We'll figure this out, alright? Get you into one of the schools around here, I promise. All I ask is when we do, you'll not get into any more fights."
"I promise." Ben rose from the bed, stopping in the doorway to look back at me.
"I'm picking up pizza from Dani's in a little while. Does that sound good?" My stomach grumbled in response, making Ben chuckle. I haven't had their pizza with the sweet sauce since I left for Yancy. I finished the unpacking I had put off, and we all settled in for our movie night. I almost ate an entire pizza by myself. Peter was fast asleep before the movie was over, and Ben carried him to bed. I said goodnight to them and got ready for bed myself, excited to be back to sleeping in my own room.
That night I had a vivid dream. It was storming on a beach, with a forest in the background. Two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons, sending golden blood spraying onto the sand. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagle's wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, the waves crashed against the beach, and the trees bent, almost snapping like toothpicks.
A monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the Earth, goading the animals to fight harder. I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. I watched as the eagle dove down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I screamed.
'Only you can prevent this war from becoming a reality, my son.' The women's voice was only a whisper over the howling wind, but I searched for the source. The only other living thing anywhere close to the beach was a falcon perched high in one of the trees. I realized it was the same one that had been outside my dorm that one night.
'What does this mean! Who are you!?' I shouted over the storm. The falcon, with its wide silver unblinking eyes, spoke again.
'I've watched over you your entire life, protecting you, making sure you would live. It is time for you to find your kind.' The eagle descended down onto the horse, its beak tearing into the horse's eyes, and with a great cry, more golden blood oozed from the horse.
'No!' I screamed. I woke with a start. Outside, it really was storming, the kind that cracks trees and blows down houses. I climbed out of bed and went straight for the window, just to assure myself there weren't any fights to the death happening outside. But what I did see shocked me. The falcon was perched on my windowsill, its eyes boring into mine. They were a startling silver, much like the clouds in the sky.
'Prepare yourself,' was all it said. The falcon didn't fly away; it simply vanished in the very next second.
"Prepare myself? For what?" Over the roaring of the wind outside, I heard a distant noise, almost like howling. The sound made my hair stand on end. Then a much closer noise, like nails scrabbling against sandpaper, came from further in the apartment. I crept out into the hall, expecting someone to be up, but everyone's doors were closed, and the lights were off.
'The power must've gotten knocked out or something.' The sound kept coming from the living room, like something large was walking around. I peeked past the corner, and my breath caught in my throat. Standing halfway on the couch, its nose pointed up into the air, was a giant dog-like... thing. It had the body of a dog, but its head was misshapen, and its mouth was far larger, jagged teeth lining its mouth. The tail was long and covered in black fur, like the rest of it.
I quickly backed up out of view and pinched myself. There was no way this was real, I still had to be having a nightmare. But when the smell reached me, I knew it wasn't a dream. It smelled like sulfur, and I almost gagged at the overwhelming stench. Then, to my horror, Peter's bedroom door opened.
He came out into the hall, in full view of the living room, rubbing his eyes. Peter saw the dog thing before it saw him, and he opened his mouth to scream. I quickly reached out and clamped my hand over his mouth. I pulled him next to me before the dog could see him. I put my finger up to my lips, signaling him to be quiet. The muffled sound must've attracted the dog, its ears perking up.
It crept off of the couch and circled behind it. Its head was lowered to the floor, and now that we were hidden from its view at the moment, I had to act. I began leading Peter back towards the safety of my room. If I could get to the charm necklace in the drawer of my nightstand, I might be able to get this thing out of our apartment. I pushed him inside and quickly shut the door. I rushed over to my nightstand, taking out the necklace. When I laid eyes on it, it was already glowing faintly.
'Speak the words. Παιδί του Κυνηγιού.' The voice was the woman again, and this time the words flowed easily from my mouth.
"Παιδί του Κυνηγιού." The knife charm began to glow, and the blade was in my hands. But it was different this time. It was longer now, like a sword, though the hilt was still made of deer antler. Peter's eyes widened at the sight, "whoa." I moved to the door, holding up my hand for him to stay there. I slowly pulled it open and peeked around the corner. The dog was now in the kitchen, its head stuffed down into the trash can. I crept down the hallway, carefully keeping my steps as silent as possible. I stopped at the entrance to the kitchen and took a slow breath.
'This is incredibly stupid, Grayson,' I thought to myself. It raised its head, alerted by something. I held my breath, tensing my body to jump out at it. I didn't get one step before the dog whirled its head in my direction. Eyes as dark as coals made a cold chill run down my spine. The dog bared its teeth, and a deep growl came from its throat. I didn't have the chance to take another step before the dog lunged at me. I desperately swung the sword, and to my horror, misjudged its speed.
The dog collided into me, and its teeth sunk into my arm, the blade dropping from my hands. I fell onto the floor, the thing on top of me. I bit back a scream, and kicked the dog in the stomach, desperately trying to get it off me. Tears stung my eyes as I fought, but the dog dragged me across the floor, shaking its head back and forth. The flesh of my arm was stained from all the blood, my clothes soaked from where it had pooled on the floor. It bit down again, more of my arm now in its jaws.
Over my whimpering, I heard voices from in the hall outside of our apartment. The door flew open, and two people were standing there. One was Grover, drenched from head to toe. The other, a girl, was someone I didn't recognize. She had dark hair and bright green eyes and was clad in an orange shirt and jeans. She didn't hesitate and threw something at the dog.
A blade almost like mine flashed and sank into the dog's neck. The dog let out a yelp and released my arm. I didn't even want to look at the damage done to it. The dog collapsed, dissolving into wisps of smoke, until there was nothing left. I was frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I had seen... what I was seeing... because Grover didn't have his pants on.
Where his legs should be... where his legs should be... The girl moved first and right towards me. She bent down and picked up the blade, and before my eyes, it shrank down into the shape of a small seashell. She clasped it onto a bracelet on her left wrist and faced me. She gently took ahold of my arm, checking the deep teeth marks. She took out a small pouch from her pocket and took my good hand.
"Here, eat this. It'll help." She tipped the pouch over, and a small cube of what looked like peanut butter fudge fell into my palm.
"What is this?" I was skeptical of sticking something given to me by a stranger in my mouth.
"It'll heal your arm, Grayson." Grover's eyes were fixed to the mangled mess, his face pale. I did as she said and popped the cube into my mouth. It tasted like the grape sour strings I loved, not like the smooth peanut butter I was expecting. Immediately, I watched as the blood clotted, and the gashes started closing. I took a breath of relief when bone mended itself, and the pain stopped.
"You killed the dog." Peter's voice made us jump, and the girl looked down at him with a shocked expression.
"You saw it?" The girl's eyes remained fixed on Peter for a few seconds until she looked up at me.
"We need to go. More will show up looking for you."
"More of what? Who are you?" She didn't answer, just started walking straight for the door. Grover was pacing back and forth in the doorway, making small sounds like a mallet tapping against the wood. Where his legs and feet should be, were shaggy hindquarters and hooves.
"Graaayson, we have to leave. They'll be safe, I swear. Emma's scent is stronger than yours. They'll follow that instead."
"To where? I can't just leave in the middle of the night."
"I'm sorry, but we don't have a choice. It's the safest place for you right now." The girl came back in again and grabbed ahold of my hand.
"We can't keep arguing about this. Trust us, Grayson, worse things than that are on their way." I then heard another howl, and something sounded like it was scrambling along the side of the building. The girl, Emma, started pulling me towards the door. Peter reached out and grasped his hands around mine, his brown eyes showing how scared he was.
"Grayson, where are you going?" I shook off the girl's hand and kneeled down to Peter's eye level. I didn't want to go, but the sounds were getting more frequent, and I knew they were right. Something else was coming.
"I'll be back, I swear. Just go back to bed, and this will all be like a dream, I promise." I hugged Peter before getting up to follow them out. I grabbed my charm necklace off of the floor. I turned one last time to look at Peter. He was wiping tears off of his face but was doing as I had asked. I quickly shut the door behind me, feeling the sting of tears in my own eyes. Down on the street, there was a white van waiting on the curb. Printed along the side was Delphi Strawberry Service. Emma pulled open the door and climbed in, offering me a hand.
"Come on." I studied her face, seeing if I could truly trust her before taking her hand. Inside the van, Grover sat in the driver's seat. My eyes widened, "What are you doing?!"
"What, I'm legally licensed. Buckle in." Squished in between the two of them, I pulled the seatbelt over my chest, clicking it into place. I looked at Grover sitting next to me, remembering the smell from kindergarten trips to the petting zoo... lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal. Grover's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, then noticed me staring. All I could think to say was, "this is what you were protecting me from."
"Yes. I was told to keep tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily. "I am your friend."
"Um... what are you exactly?"
"That doesn't matter right now."
"It doesn't matter? My best friend is a donkey-" Grover let out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha!" I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat.
"Goat!" he cried.
"What?" "I'm a goat from the waist down."
"You just said it didn't matter."
"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you under hoof for such an insult!"
"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like... the myths we learned in Mr. Brunner's class?"
"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Grayson? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"
"So you do admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!"
"Of course."
"Then why-"
"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the human's eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are, and your abilities manifested"
"Who I... wait a minute, what do you mean?" A weird bellowing noise rose up from somewhere behind us, and Grover pressed his foot... no, hoof further down onto the gas pedal. It was close, whatever was after me was now right on our trail.
"Grayson," Emma said. "There's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."
"Safety from what? Who's after me?"
"Oh, no body much. Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."
"Grover!"
"Sorry, Emma." Emma turned her gaze to the mirrors.
"Could you drive a little faster please?" I tried to wrap my head around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I didn't have this much of an imagination, and I could never dream up something this weird. Grover kept going through the city, and straight into Long Island. Grover made a hard left onto a narrower road, making me and Emma get uncomfortably close. The smell of the ocean reached my nose, and I pushed myself back into my seat.
"Where are we going?," I asked. We raced past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and pick your own strawberries signs on white picket fences.
"The summer camp on the card I gave you." Grover's voice was tight; he was trying to brave here, but was failing.
"The place your mother wanted you sent too." I stared at Emma, "You know my mom? My real mom?"
"Yes. We'll explain everything when we get across the border."
"All this because some old ladies cut yarn." My mind was still reeling about the new information about my mom.
"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know that means, the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to... when someone's about to die."
"Whoa. You said, 'You'."
"No, I didn't. I said, 'someone'."
"You meant 'you'. As in me."
"I meant you, like, 'someone.' Not you, you."
"Guys!," Emma yelled. She reached over and pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd made us avoid, a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.
"What was that!?," I asked.
"We're almost there," Grover said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please." I didn't know where there was, but I found myself leaning forward in the van, anticipating, wanting us to arrive. Outside, there was nothing but rain and darkness, the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island.
"Emma, can you do something about this rain?"
"I can't. We're moving too fast, and this storm is too big." Before I could ask Grover about why he asked that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom, and our van exploded. I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried and hosed down all at the same time. I peeled my forehead off of the dashboard and said, "Ow."
"Grayson!," Grover shouted.
"I'm okay..." I tried to shake off the daze. I wasn't dead, and the car hadn't really exploded. We'd swerved into a ditch. Emma leaned back into her seat, pressing a hand against her forehead.
"I'm good," she mumbled. Our driver's side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in. Lightning, that was the only explanation. We'd been blasted right off of the road. On the other side of me, Grover wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Grayson," Grover said, "We have to ..." His voice faltered. I looked back, and in a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns. I swallowed hard.
"Who the hell-"
"Grayson," Emma said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car." Emma threw herself against the driver's side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried the passenger's side, pushing as hard as I could. The door swung open, making me almost topple into the muddy ditch.
"Climb out this side!," Emma told Grover. "Grayson, we have to run. Do you see that big tree?" Another flash of lightning, and through the darkness I saw the tree she meant. It was a huge White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.
"That's the property line," Grover said, scrambling out of the van. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."
"I'm not leaving you guys." Emma grabbed my hand before pulling, causing me to stumble forward.
"We're right behind you go!" The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he couldn't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands, huge meaty hands, were swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head... was his head. And the points that looked like horns...
"Let's go. We can't let him catch us." Emma started leading me towards the pine tree, our pace quickening.
"But..."
"We don't have time, Grayson. Go!" Grover grabbed ahold of my arm.
"We get across the property line, he can't follow." We scrambled towards the hill, the mud making it hard to get any traction. Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the monster. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the scene of a monster movie. Bulging muscles, all stuffed with baseballs under vein webbed skin. He wore no clothes except underwear.
I mean, bright white fruit of the looms, which would've been funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders. His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns, enormous black and white horns with sharp points. I recognized the monster, all right. He had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told us. But he couldn't be real. I blinked the rain out of my eyes.
"That's Pasiphae's son."
"You realize now how badly they want to kill you?," Emma said.
"But he's the Min-"
"Don't say his name," she warned. "Names have power." The pine tree was still way too far, a hundred yards uphill at least. I glanced behind me again. The bull-man hunched over our van, looking in the windows, or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only fifty feet away. Emma must've guessed what I was thinking.
"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough." As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up the van by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.
"Grayson," Emma said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way, directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"
"How do you know all this?"
"I've been trained for years on how to deal with them." Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill. He'd smelled us. The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker. The bull-man closed in on us. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.
"Separate! Remember what I said." I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right, it was our only chance. I sprinted to the left, turned, and saw the creature bearing down on me. His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like rotten meat. He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest. The fear in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So, I held my ground, and at the last moment, I jumped to the side.
The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned l, but not toward me this time, but towards Emma. We'd just reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side, I could see a valley, just as Grover said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away. We'd never make it. The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing Emma, who had slipped in the mud. He charged, Emma trying to sidestep, as she'd told me to do, but the monster had learned his lesson.
His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, gasping for air, kicking and pummeling his chest. With newfound strength, I moved, the being frozen in fear evaporating, and slipped my necklace out. The words seemingly flowed out of my mouth, and blade in hand, I ran straight at the monster's enormous back. The bull-man had both fists closed around Emma's neck, her face beginning to turn purple. Trickles of blood coming from her nose, and the corner of her mouth.
The sword cut into his back, earning a roar of pain. "RAAAARRRRR!" The monster dissolved before my eyes, melting into shadow, and was gone. Emma fell to the ground, Grover clopping over, kneeling down to her. Running over, I saw Emma's eyes were closed, and only shallow breaths were coming from her. The rain had stopped, and I could see the blood still leaking from her nose. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance.
I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head was pounding, like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared, I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Emma, needing my help. I took one of her arms alongside Grover, slinging it over my shoulder. We staggered down into the valley, toward the lights of the farmhouse. Emma had fallen unconscious, and Grover called out to whoever was inside.
The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, how tired I was catching up to me, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me. Moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern face of a familiar looking bearded man gazing down at me.
"He is the one." Grover's voice sounded like it was faraway.
"Silence, Grover," the man said. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside and go wake Will to help Emma." With that, my entire world turned black as I slipped into unconsciousness.