Chapter 2 - A Chicken Calls Me Carry Out

"...so you can see why I need to go," I said. I had just finished recounting the events of my strange dream to uncle Joe, explaining my reasoning for wanting to go to Camp Half-Blood so suddenly.

It was no secret that up until now I had previously had no desire to go to the camp. I was more than happy to stay with uncle Joe in his apartment and help out in the restaurant downstairs. He may not have been my uncle by blood, but that just made him even better in my opinion. A perfect stranger with no relation showing kindness to someone without expectation of reward or thanks. He'd rescued me after I'd been jumped by a street gang, and had taken me in to his home while I healed. Even before that, he'd allowed me to work in exchange for food and education.

He was silent for a moment, clearly processing the information I'd just dumped on him. After a couple minutes he said; "From what it sounds like, your twin is still enrolled in a school. You also mentioned one of the teachers throwing him a sword?" I nodded. "Then, it's possible he will be safe until end of term. That friend of his may even be a protector sent from the camp. They regularly attend public schools and befriend demigods over the course of the school year, then help guide them safely to the camp. If that's the case, your brother wont be there for another few weeks at the earliest when the first schools start letting out for the break."

I was surprised that he'd believed me outright, and even said so.

"It isn't unheard of for demigods to get dreams that are prophetic in nature," uncle Joe explained. "Whether a vision of the past, the present or what is to come, the contents of the dream are always important to the dreamer."

"Then what do I do?" I asked.

"Take a few days to figure that out, nipote," he said. "If you ran into your twin right now, what would you say to him? How would you react?"

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. What he was saying made sense, I knew, but I didn't like it. Right now I would probably frighten him away, if I was being honest. I sighed; "You're right. You're always right, uncle Joe."

"And don't forget it," he winked. "Now, I can tell you're still restless, so you can have the day off. Go run off some steam before you burn the place down."

"I would never!" I cried out indignantly.

"Figure of speech. Now, go. Shoo. Off with you!"

I stuck my tongue out at him before giving him a quick hug. It had to be quick due to my rapidly rising body temperature - a side-effect of my pyrokinetic powers. According to Doctor Phoebe, my general practitioner, excessive use of pyrokinesis led to me having a much higher than normal baseline body temperature. I'd always run on the warmer side, what most doctors would call a 'low grade fever', but now my baseline was in the one twenties - a temperature that was generally considered fatal for mortals.

This had also explained my bizarre tolerance for eating ambrosia that had puzzled me ever since the Winter Solstice. The food of the gods could overpower a mortal's constitution and cause them to burn up from the inside out. Even demigods could only eat a small amount in a certain period of time before they risked the same fate. However, due to the nature of my power, I had no worry about burning up. It was even theorized that I could gain a small, but noticeable boost to my ability if I overdosed on the stuff. Of course as my general practitioner, Doctor Phoebe strongly suggested I not do that.

"Just be back by night fall," he called out after me, but I was already halfway down the stairs. Maybe I'd head to Olympus again. I'd been making regular sight-seeing trips for weeks at this point, but maybe it was time to start gathering information as well.

Unfortunately, my attempts at information gathering on Olympus had been defeated before I could event try. For some reason the key card I'd saved from Winter Solstice wasn't working, and when I went to the security desk to try for a new one, neither Lord Anakin or his brother were present. It was almost as if the city of the gods was closed.

The next few weeks simultaneously flew by in a blur and dragged on for eternity, and by the time the day came for me to go to the camp, I still had no idea what I was going to say to my long lost brother. What were his hobbies? His likes and dislikes? Did he have a lot of friends besides Grover the possible satyr protector? Would he even remember me? Would he have thought I died that day, just like our mom?

And after weeks of planning and waiting, the day had finally arrived. Uncle Joe had called ahead to the camp to secure transportation in the form of a van. While I had a personal aversion to vehicles, I reluctantly understood it would be better to get a ride than to make my own way to the camp. No doubt there would be plenty of monsters between here and there that would love a bite sized appetizer like me.

I had a bag packed with clothes, toiletries and other assorted necessities for a prolonged stay away from home. The last thing to be packed was my Celestial Bronze hunting knife, which I placed right on top of everything else. I was almost reminded of when I had gone off to travel with the hunt last year while uncle Joe had had to go to Italy for a family emergency. It turned out his biological grandniece had been pregnant. She had since given birth to what looked like a very angry potato from the photos she'd sent in the mail. Ari had been amused by my observation. Uncle Joe only slightly less so.

And while I was nervous to travel with the Hunt at first, I'd actually had a great time and had made close friends. I had even learned a lot of various survival tips and tricks along the way. Of course, we'd also fought an evil werewolf necromancer that had been trying to raise an army of vampire zombies in the woods near Canada. Hopefully a summer camp would be less dangerous than that.

"Nipote, the van is here," uncle Joe called from the living room.

I peeked out my bedroom window to see the white Delphi Strawberry Service van parked on the street below. A woman wearing sunglasses and a feathery shawl was sitting in the driver seat, bobbing her head along to some thumping music.

I grabbed my enchanted chiton, a gift from the lieutenant of the Hunt Zoë Nightshade, and turned it into a silver jacket before pulling it on. I didn't want to accidentally burn someone, and thanks to my pyrokinesis I was in no danger of overheating despite it being the start of summer. Grabbing up my things, I walked out into the living room to see uncle Joe and Ari waiting for me. Before I could say anything, the excitable wind nymph rushed forward and pulled me into a hug that had me gasping for breath.

"H-hey now," I said, awkwardly patting her back. "Don't go storming on me. I'm only gonna be gone for the summer and then I'll be back."

"You'd better," Ari mumbled. "Or else Giuseppe will be really sad."

"Yes, I will," uncle Joe agreed with a small grin. "Do be careful, nipote. The camp is well protected, but there could be something more at play that we do not yet realize."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders, "It's probably nothing more than an old man's paranoia." I had the feeling he wasn't being completely truthful with me, but I was interrupted by the honking of a car horn before I could pry for more information. "Don't mind me, nipote. Just go find your brother. And remember to have fun!"

"I will," I said with a smile, then headed out the door. The van was idling by the time I made it down the stairs, and the door had been left open for me to load up my things myself. I glanced at the driver and froze. It was a harpy. What I had initially mistaken for a feathery shawl were actually wings! She turned to me, and lowered her sunglasses revealing sunken, beady eyes that narrowed in irritation.

"Hurry up and get in, sit down, shut up and buckle your seat belt. Until we get to Half-Blood hill, you're not a camper, you're carry out." The driver warned, her high pitched voice sent chills down my spine. "Behave, or you'll be lunch."

I gulped, casting a glance back up at the window of uncle Joe's apartment - briefly considering just turning around and going back. No, I thought, steeling my resolve. I turned back to the driver and nodded, climbing into the very back seat of the van and buckling up. Seemingly satisfied, the driver turned the music back up and began to pull away from the curb. As surreptitiously as I could manage, I reached into my bag and gripped my hunting knife - keeping a firm grip on the handle but also keeping it out of sight. I wasn't sure if the harpy driver would actually eat me or not, but I wasn't going to make it easy for her either way.