Chapter 13

We Play Dodgeball: Hard Edition

The next morning I was up bright and early. And by that I mean Andi had me up bright and early, dragging me into the air by the ankles before letting gravity take over. It wasn't a fun way to wake up, but compared to the time Mrs. O'Leary found her way into my room at four in the morning I'd take it. At least this way was dry.

"Morning, sunshine," Andi said with a beaming smile. She was dressed exactly the same as the day before, except this time with a duffle bag large enough to fit a full-sized body strapped over her shoulder. I sincerely hoped it wasn't meant for me by the end of the day.

"Morning," I yawned back.

She leaned in and cuffed me, which with the size difference sent me straight back into the ground.

"Louder!" she shouted. "I want to hear the enthusiasm in my bones!"

I spit out dust. "Your nose felt my enthusiasm yesterday. Is that enough?"

"I felt something from a love tap like that? Please. Now come, a day's wasted on talk."

She would've been more convincing if her right nostril wasn't still slightly skewed to the side, but I kept that thought to myself.

As I followed after her, I crossed the surprisingly nice camp she'd dragged me to after the test. There was no tent, but a slanted sheet of aluminum held up by four wooden posts gave more than enough shelter. There must've been some sort of magic worked on it, too, because the structure was only a mile or so from the visitor center and yet no one had reported it.

Supplies were kept simple and practical. Andi's XXL sleeping bag that dwarfed the one I'd brought lay open. Three sets of pans and utensils, two silver and one bronze, were piled near a basin for washing and a large watercooler. A few cups were scattered atop a small, fold-out table. And just out from under the shelter the was ashes of a campfire, surrounded on three sides by piles of chopped wood. Andi had lit it the night before, reluctantly, when she'd realized I was in no condition to continue training. I liked that. She also muttered under her breath the whole time about "double sessions, to make up for lost time." That I didn't like.

"So what do we start with?" I asked as we passed out of the camp. "Sparring?"

"Sparring?" She bellowed out a laugh. "Think a lot of yourself, do you? That you can hang around with me?"

"It's how I learned with a sword."

"Then you didn't have me for a teacher."

I frowned. "Obviously. You use a spear, and I met you yesterday."

"Don't be pedantic."

She hoped across a small creek in one bound. I clambered from bank to bank, trying not to pick up too much mud in the process.

"Well, what's your approach, then?" I asked.

"Fighting," she said, "is like building a house. The first thing you put in is the foundation. Try to start anywhere else, and the whole thing crumbles. So that's what we're doing right now- laying your foundation."

We'd reached a stretch of empty ground more secluded than where we'd fought the day before, but otherwise similar. To one side scraggy trees slowly grew more common until they achieved full-fledged foresthood. In the other three directions it was just grassy hills, indistinguishable from each other and from the other hundred lumps I'd laid eyes on since my arrival.

The soft noise of rushing water hummed from the creek we'd crossed, probably the same one we'd fought near the day before. Over it, insects and birds chirped and sang. Mixed with the smell of the fresh morning air, it made for quite a peaceful scene.

If only it lasted.

"Alright!" Andi shouted. "Spear, out!"

I jolted, hands blockily grabbing at my weapon. By the time Anthea formed seconds later a frown was etched on my teacher's face.

"You think that was quick?"

I shook my head. "Not real-"

"Rhetorical!" she yelled. "And of course it wasn't! You think a monster will give you all morning to prepare? That a Hydra is going to let you catch your breath, maybe grab a drink, all while waiting patiently?"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe if I ask nicely."

"They certainly won't be stopping to laugh at your little jokes." She leered at me, her bladed hairband catching the sun's light on each of its five points. "From now on, that weapon is your eleventh finger. Your fifth limb. Your second-"

"Alright. Got it. It'll be a part of me."

"Not just a part of you," she said. "The part of you."

Just like she had the day before she dropped a hand to the ground to pull out her spear, letting the duffle bag she'd brought slide off in the same motion. As soon as her hands slid into ready positions, she brought the weapon flat with her torso.

"Watch," she told me. "No do-overs for wandering attention."

She lunged. That was it; just one step forward, dashing the weapon a few feet out and back, and one step back to the position she'd started in.

"That's it?"

She looked over. Her expression was like a surgeon's mid-operation.

"That's it," she said. "Now keep it up for seven."

I adjusted my grip as best as I could to match hers, spread my legs slightly, and struck the air.

"Was that good?"

She tilted her head. "You tell me. Again."

So I did it another time. Then another. The motion became a bit more familiar with each repetition, and by the seventh I felt that some small progress had been made.

As I drew back and rested Anthea against the ground, Andi's voice stopped me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Stopping? That was seven."

"No," she said. "That was seven repetitions. You have…" she pulled out an old-fashioned silver pocket watch and checked it. "About six hours and fifty-eight minutes left to go."

I waited for her to say "Ha, got you!" and show me what to do next.

She didn't.

O-O-O-O-O

If you're ever in the unlikely situation to be training under an Androktasiai, my advice is to bring lots of spare clothes- and I mean lots. If the sweating doesn't get to them the grime definitely will. By the end of the first day I was a sticky dust-covered mess of exhaustion.

As I lay sprawled flat on my back staring at the emerging stars, a weight settled gently onto my stomach. When I dragged my head up, I found a steaming bronze bowl of stew.

"Eat," Andi said, already returning to the open fire and the huge pot bobbling over it. Her voice was a far cry from the drill sergeant screaming I'd been subjected to all day, but still came across as just as commanding.

Moving sounded like a horrible idea. But the smell had already reached me and it was like a fire had been lit in my stomach. I was starving, and really, compared to a spear what was lifting a spoon?

When the first bite hit my mouth my taste buds exploded.

Living with Daedalus had a lot of benefits, but the food wasn't one. He was quite the cook, but he couldn't stand the time it took up. I'd picked up some recipes from him, but it wasn't easy to buckle down and focus with my naturally impaired demigod attention span. That left one option for most meals- the microwave.

Don't get me wrong, I loved instant noodles as much as the next guy. Probably more. But sometimes you wanted a good old-fashioned home-cooked meal, like, say, a bowl of freshly mixed stew. And gods, was this good stew.

"Enjoying it?" Andi was looking at me, peering over the cast-iron pot as she stirred, the ladle clinking against its edges. "Eat till your full. There's as many servings here as you'll need."

I smiled gratefully and took another spoonful. There was no way I was wasting any time on words with this in my hands.

Soon enough my bowl was drained and it was like energy had seeped back into my limbs. I pulled myself up and moved across to her, eagerly holding out my bowl for the promised refill.

"Seconds?" Andi asked, setting aside her own dinner when I nodded.

I watched her carefully spoon up my refill, then return to eating. There was a delicacy to the way she handled food, like spilling even a single drop would kill her on the spot.

"Eat," she suddenly commanded, not looking away from her bowl. "Hunger won't defeat itself."

I started, then quickly sat and followed instructions. It wasn't like I needed much prompting. But I kept watching her.

"What do you normally do?" I asked eventually.

She grunted. "I've done a lot of things, kid. Anyone that's been alive for as long as me will have."

"But I mean how do you have fun? You don't exactly have a TV out here."

"What good's a TV when you've got this?"

She reached out a pinky and prodded the ground. Specters appeared near us like the ones from the day before. Unlike the day before there were only two- one clad in blue union fatigues, the other in confederate grey. Both were holding muskets with bayonets fixed at the end. They charged each other screaming their lungs out before colliding, stabbing at the exact same time. The moment they touched the ground the illusions evaporated into steam.

I winced. "You just… watch people die? All day, every day?"

"Course," she said, chewing through a hunk of beef. "Seeing it live is best, but this will do. It's the highest form of beauty this world's got."

"Yea, I don't see it."

"Give it time and you will. The pure passion. The unbridled emotion that comes out in a battle for survival. Kill or be killed, the ultimate, original, game."

Her eyes unfocused, like she was looking hard at something really far away. A shiver ran through me.

"You don't…" I trailed off, suddenly not sure I wanted an answer to the question I was about to ask.

But she didn't let it go. "I don't what?"

"You don't go around murdering people, do you?"

Her eyes snapped up from her bowl, the red specks in them suddenly glowing like embers.

"Do not," she hissed, "confuse the beauty of death in battle for the ugliness of murder. A fight is a mutual understanding. A contract. Every good soldier knows that he can die, but he accepts that. It is no one-sided, despicable, murder."

The final word was spit so much venom that I half expected it to land on the pot between us and sizzle straight through. Unconsciously I shrunk away, my hand darting to the pocket that held my weapon.

But with a long exhale the fire drained out of her. She leaned her head to the side and said, "But no. Even in a war, I don't take the lives. The best part is the emotion running through the men, not the act itself. If I dealt the blows, I'd only be cutting that out."

I nodded, although it still made no sense to me. As long as my teacher wasn't some serial killer, I could deal with that. Preferably, though, with as few outbursts like that one as possible.

O-O-O-O-O

Every morning Andi had me up bright and early, repeating the painful method from the first day until, after the third time through, I got it in my head to be up and ready on my own. She'd lead me to the clearing between the creek and woods and set me to work doing lunges, watching critically the whole time. If there was one job that seemed more boring than mine, it was hers. At least I had aching muscles to keep me awake.

There were breaks, but they were carefully and distantly spaced. Andi seemed to have a knack for knowing exactly when I was about to collapse and calling a halt right then, pulling a bronze cup from the duffel bag and handing it over. It was just water and yet it felt like the world's best energy drink, one part espresso the other part Gatorade.

In the evening when the work was done, she cooked and then we ate. And then, when the food was gone, she told stories.

Sometimes it was battle tactics. Other times it was a particularly thrilling fight she'd seen, relayed in photographic detail. She was a great storyteller when she cared about the topic… so basically when the topic was a fight.

Once or twice it was a former student she talked about. Embarrassing answers they'd given or impressive acts they'd achieved. One evening, as we sat on a log near to her homebase watching the stars, I finally asked a question that had been bugging me for a while.

"You like teaching," I said, breaking the lull after a detailing of an Italian air bombardment had concluded.

Andi tilted her head as she stared at the stars. "And what makes you say that?"

"You talk about them. Your old students, I mean. And the way you describe them, you always sound more excited than usual."

"That so?" She snorted. "Well, look at the little detective go. But you're wrong."

I frowned. "About what?"

"They weren't my students. None of them but you."

"What? But then who were in those stories?"

"Failures," she said bitterly. "Wastes of time. The ones who failed one test or another. I've never had a true student. Not yet."

"I don't get it," I admitted. "If you enjoy it, wouldn't more be better?"

She drummed her fingers against the bark hard enough to spray splinters. "It's all about getting the right one. Anything else would be such a waste."

"Of what?"

She kept staring at the stars, like she was sorting through them for one particular thing.

"Of everything," she finally said. And then, without another word, stood up and strode away, gesturing me off toward my sleeping bag.

O-O-O-O-O

It was two days after our late-night talk that the first one appeared.

I was four hours deep into my practice when it happened, feeling like a lobster tossed in to boil. The sun was beaming down freely, and if the air got any heavier you could've scooped it up with a spoon.

Now, the heat had really gotten to my head, along with every other part of my body. I was suffering, and simply keeping up my lunges was taking all my focus. That's my excuse for not noticing a thing until it burst out of the forest, trampling aside enough trees for a cozy log cabin in the process.

It was a Laistrygonian giant, as given away by the sharpened yellow teeth in his open mouth. The most notable thing about him was the massive American flag he was wearing like a speedo, a sight so horrifyingly that I paid it more attention than the massive club preparing to crush me.

By the time my brain caught up there was nothing to be done. I was exhausted and stuck in the open. A sitting duck

Then a blur slotted between us, and a spear point sprouted from his oversized forehead. With a look of dumb confusion that probably mirrored my own pretty well, he crumbled into nothing.

"No points for reaction time." Andi looked me up and down, her weapon still raised. "I'll let you off this time, on account of your attention to training. Next time I expect better."

My mouth opened and closed a few times without words. Finally, I shook my head.

"That was a Laistrygonian."

"You know them, huh?" Andi flicked her spear, tossing stuck bits of dust onto the surrounding grass. "They're decent in a fight. Scary strong, scarier stupid."

"I've had experiences," I said. "But why was one here? Why now?"

"You're a demigod, aren't you? And a powerful one at that. Poseidon. Was only a matter of time before they started coming. Especially now."

I decided to set aside her knowing about my dad despite the fact that I'd never told her in favor of focusing on the last part.

"What do you mean 'especially now'? Is something happening?"

"You could say that." She turned to face me. "Out there, monsters are moving en masse. Somethings calling them, and they're answering."

"Like a group chat?" I tried to picture that. Hey guys, Hydra here. I found a whole group of half-bloods out in Kansas. Come over, and bring extra swords!

"There aren't too many things out there that could pull it off," Andi said, oblivious to my thoughts. "But they exist. Beings that hate the gods enough to get along with monsters, and powerful enough to make them listen."

I stared at her. "That sounds big."

She snorted. "Kid, you don't know the half of it. Things are heating up, and when they spill over believe me, it isn't going to be small."

Great, because I didn't have enough to worry about already. But honestly, what would it mean for me? In a few months' time I'd be tucked away in the Labyrinth once more, sheltered from the world. No matter how crazy things got, I wasn't sure they'd even reach me. After all, if not even death had been able to find Daedalus's hiding place, what chance did anything else have.

What about Annabeth? Luke? They certainly didn't have a hiding place like mine. With a frown, I realized I wasn't even sure they were still alive. I knew they'd made it to camp years ago, but death was a fact of life for those of us with immortal parents. You never knew anything for certain.

"What're you doing, giving me a mopey face like that. You should be ashamed; did I say you could slack off!"

For once, I was grateful for Andi's drill sergeant orders. I returned to practice and tried to let the screaming from my shoulders drown out the depressing thoughts. It didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped- for the rest of the day one key question buzzed around the back of my mind:

What, exactly, was coming?

O-O-O-O-O

The neat thing about routines is that even the harsh ones you get used to. For a full week I was ground the bone. Wake up, stab, repeat, stab, repeat, eat, sleep. I would never call it fun, but by the seventh morning, it had been hammered into my bones.

Which was why when Andi stopped me only an hour in, it took me a moment to even process it.

"Your movements are passable," she said, resting her chin in the crook of her hand, her head bobbing.

My eyes must've looked like golf balls. "I've got it?"

"Yep. Good enough, at least."

"No more repetitions?"

"Not of this."

I pumped my fist. "Yes! Go me!"

"Yes," Andi agreed. "Time to move on."

"So what's next?" I asked. "Maybe jumping attacks? Low stabs? Oh, maybe-"

"Surviving."

I stopped short. "When you say surviving…?"

"Oh, it's quite simple." Her smile sharpened into something sadistic. From the ground beside her she unzipped the duffle bag she'd been carrying since the first day. From inside she drew, far too easily, a full-sized bowling ball and a tennis ball. She held one in each hand and lifted them for me to see.

"This," she said, holding the tennis ball slightly higher, "you are going to stab out of the air. And this," she hefted the bowling ball just as naturally, "you are not going to let touch you. For your sake, I recommend succeeding."

"Is it too late to go back to lunges?" I asked.

"Definitely. On your toes now." With a smile somewhere between professional and sadistic, she threw.

I rolled to the right and only stabbed blindly for the tennis ball, more concerned with avoiding its partner. As a result the bowling ball thudded harmlessly into the ground behind me. The tennis ball bounced bast too; I hadn't even come within three feet of skewering it.

"You missed," Andi said. "Don't worry, you've got more chances."

She reached into the bag and drew out two more balls. Then she set them on the ground and reached back in. Pretty soon there were twin stacks, one neon and harmless, the other pitch black and hard enough to bust my skull open like a pinata.

"Now," she said, "round two starts."

In that moment I experienced something I never expected to, let alone just a few minutes after they'd said goodbye: I missed the lunges.

O-O-O-O-O

"What's Eris like?"

I asked the question in a lull between stories, late one night. I was battered and bruised, but it wouldn't stop me from getting out a question that had been bugging me.

"Eris, huh?" Unconsciously, at the name, Andi brought out a pocket knife and began to fiddle with it. "Well, most people know the whole wedding affair with Peleus and Thetis. Mom was the only goddess not privy to an invite, threw a hissy fit, threw a shiny fruit, started quite the war. For the last bit alone, she'll always have my appreciation. But if you're asking what she's like personally…"

"Most people think, on account of that story and the whole 'goddess of strife' title, that she's a real piece of work. Cold, violent, pitiless."

"Is she?"

Andi flicked the knife, cutting off the corner of a nail and sharpening it to a point. "Of course she is! They just don't have the first clue how bad it is. Whatever they're picturing, 'less you know her as well as I do, she'll be twice as bad."

"Wow," I said. "Good to see you guys are on such good terms."

"Hm? But we are." Andi looked away from her knifework but didn't stop. Her accuracy didn't decrease in the slightest. "I said it before- she gave me the Trojan War. If that wasn't enough to earn Mother's Day gifts from me and the others for the rest of time, nothing is."

That was shocking to hear. Not the bit about the war (I should've realized that for myself) but because it was the first time I'd heard her mention other Androktasiai.

"What about your siblings?" I asked. "How many of you are there?"

She shrugged. "Beats me."

"You really have no idea?"

"Kid," she said, "think about it for a second. Do I seem like the type for a family gathering?"

I tried to picture her at a picnic, grilling up burgers as a bunch of mini-mes ran around her ankles playing. I shook my head. Nope, definitely didn't feel right.

"My siblings are the exact same as me. Closest we got to a gathering was the last World War. Felt like I'd run across one of those bastards every other day. Now? You've seen how I live."

I thought about that. Andi spent most of her time wandering. She'd poke around battlefields – usually Antietam, but sometimes others – and watch the action on repeat, lost in her own little world. In a way she was like a shut-in, totally immersed in her shows, just the ones she watched actually happened. If her siblings were all like her it wasn't unbelievable that they really wouldn't have kept any track of each other.

"And what about your dad?"

I started. "What about him?"

"The look in your eyes when he's mentioned," Andi said. "I've seen men go to war with less venom. I figure that's got something to do, too, with how you haven't used your powers once."

That was true, but it wasn't exactly like it was my choice. "I can't," I explained. "It's been like this for years. I try, but nothing happens."

"Sounds like an excuse." Andi flicked the blade on her pocket knife closed and turned it over in her hand. "No good will come from turning down power. Coming by it is hard enough already."

"That's just it," I said. "I'm not turning it down. It just won't work no matter what I try."

She watched me for a moment. "You really believe that."

"Well duh-"

Anymore conversation was put on pause by crunching from the bushes. We shot up, Anthea forming while Andi pulled her own spear from the earth. Together we faced down the source of the noise, a quivering thicket of bushes. The undergrowth burst open and revealed a figure who…

Held his hands over his head and yelled "Please don't hurt me!"

Befuddled, I lowered my weapon. I glanced up and down to see if I was missing something. But no, from the woods, in the dark, a perfectly ordinary looking teenager had appeared.

He had shiny red hair that together with his green hoodie made him look like a reverse strawberry. His jeans looked to be in good condition, and even the holes over the knees seemed like they may've been for style. When he slowly pulled down his hands his blue eyes looked on the verge of tears.

"Are you guys camping out here?" he asked, pubescent vocal cords cracking midway through. I started to say yes but Andi cut me off.

"What's it to you?" she said.

"Huh?" he said. "I didn't mean anything bad by it. I just got sort of lost, and then it got dark, and I'm not really sure what to do now."

"Well you can figure that out somewhere else." Andi squared her shoulders. "Leave."

"I really don't mean any trouble," said the boy. He showed off his empty palms and smiled tentatively, like a kid explaining to his teacher why he didn't do the homework. "Really, if it's not too much trouble, could I at least get a drink? I promise to leave you alone after that."

At first I thought Andi was going to refuse. For long enough for it to get (even more) awkward, she didn't say a thing. But eventually she sighed.

"I'll get it for you," she said, and jabbed a finger in his direction. "You are not to move a step from there. Do you understand."

The boy bowed his head in thanks, but kept it just high enough for him to keep his eyes on Andi. "That's real kind of you."

No one said anything as Andi snatched a cup from the table and took it to the watercooler. As she waited for the spigot to fill the metallic cup, I looked back at the mysterious teen. What I didn't expect was for him to be staring a hole in my head, that same smile suddenly shining ominously in the low light.

"You're around my age," he said when we made eye contact. "What are you doing out here?"

"Learning," I said.

He cocked his head. "Oh. That's cool, I guess. But I prefer doing."

"Here," Andi stepped up to him, breaking my line of sight and holding out the filled cup. "And stop bothering my student."

"We were just having a chat," he said, reaching for the drink.

What happened next I couldn't see with Andi in the way. All I could tell was that the cup was suddenly the ground, its water dribbling onto the earth, and that Andi was frozen with her spear raised, just the first bit of the way through a deadly attack.

"How clumsy of me!" The boy stepped away and came back into my line of sight, a hand clamped over his mouth. "I can't believe I dropped it, and after you were so kind as to fill it for me…"

At the pace of a sloth Andi dropped her arms and returned to standing loosely. "Don't worry about it," she said. "The fault was with me."

The boy shook his head. "Still, though, I'm thoroughly ashamed. Really, I've troubled you enough. Goodbye, and good luck!"

He gave a dramatic wave and scampered away as suddenly as he'd arrived, plunging straight back into the woods. I stared after him, wondering what the hell had just happened. Finally, Andi sighed and picked up the cup, lumbering back to the table to put it away.

"That did just happen, right?" I asked.

"Of course it did." Andi sniffed. "No student of mine will be going crazy any time soon. Especially not off the battlefield."

She came back to the fire and settled down, but I noticed she seemed preoccupied. She hadn't put her spear away for one thing, and she always did that once she was done with it.

"What the heck happened back there?" I asked. "You gave him a drink, and then he dropped the drink, and then it was like you were trying to kill him…"

Andi sighed. "Something was off with him."

I nodded. "I thought he might be a monster, or even a demigod or something."

"So did I." Andi held the cup she'd given him above her head, looking up at the bottom of it. "That's why I gave him one of these. These aren't normal, you know. They were a gift, from an old friend."

I looked at the dinnerware with newfound interest. "I thought they were just from Kohl's or something."

"Kid," Andi said, staring at me blankly, "did you think the rate you've been healing was normal? You had two broken ribs after the first day and trained straight through the next."

I shrugged. "I knew something was doing it. I just thought it was in the food itself, or some other boost you were giving me."

She laughed. "Sorry to disappoint, but everything I've got is about dealing damage, not the opposite. A few meals from these guys," she poked the cup with her finger and prodded the bowl beside her with her elbow, "and you'll be back to your peak like magic. It is magic, in fact. Worked into celestial bronze by an old acquaintance that's quite the little enchanter."

"If that's celestial bronze…" I said.

Andi nodded. "At least you're quick to catch on. Yes, it would take a monster, demigod, or god to touch this thing. The second he held onto it I was going to run him through, but…"

"But it went straight through his hands," I said. "He was mortal."

Andi rolled her shoulders and tilted up her head. "Apparently," she said. "Apparently he was."

That should've been the end of that. You couldn't get any better proof that someone was a mortal, and mortals were no threat. Then I thought of something.

"You did something to the camp, didn't you? That's why the tourists and guides never notice it."

Andi nodded. "That's right. It's covered by the mist."

"In that case," I said, looking up at her, "how did that kid find us?"

She blinked. "That is a damn good question."

Judging from the silence that fell, it wasn't one either of us could answer. Twenty minutes later when I tucked in to sleep Andi was still lingering up, casting looks at the forest like she expected it to come alive.

(-)

The chapter got slightly delayed by midterms and other projects, but at least its on the longer side now that it's here. The chapter after this is a short one, but it's already up for editing over on DLP so it should be posted within the next few days.