Word of the bathroom incident spread quickly. Everywhere we went, campers were pointing at Percy and muttering something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just looking at me and Annabeth, because we were still soaked.
She showed us other places: the metal shop (where the kids forged their own swords), the arts and crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man) and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two walls that faced each other and shook violently, dropped rocks, spewed lava and clashed if you didn't get to the top fast enough.
At the end of the run, we headed back to the canoe lake, to take us back to the cabins.
"I have a training to do," Annabeth said in a neutral tone. "Dinner at seven-thirty. You'll just have to follow your cabin to the mess hall.
"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilet," Percy said.
" Whatever."
"It wasn't my fault." She looked at him skeptically, of course it was his fault. He squirted water out of the toilet. But I couldn't figure out how.
"You need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said.
"Who?" I asked. "Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron.
I looked toward the lake, wishing someone would give me a straight answer for once.
I didn't expect anyone to look at me, so my heart missed a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the foot of the pier, about six meters below. They wore blue jeans and glittering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and greeted each other as if Percy were a long-lost friend. Percy replied with a wave of his hand.
"Don't encourage them," Annabeth told him. "Naiads are terrible flirts."
"Naiads?" he repeated, completely overwhelmed. "That's it. I want to go home now."
Annabeth frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. It's the only safe place on earth for kids like us."
Percy frowned. "You mean, mentally disturbed children?"
"I mean, not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human.
"Half-human and half-what?"
"I think you know."
I didn't want to admit it. I felt a tingling in my limbs. I remembered my conversation with Luke some time ago.
"My God, Percy. We're demigods."
Annabeth nodded. "Your father isn't dead, Percy. He and Kassi's mother are part of the Olympians."
"That's... crazy. "I said.
"Really? What's the most common thing the gods did in the old stories? They spent their time falling in love with humans and having children with them. Can you imagine having changed their habits over the last few millennia?"
From my point of view, I found the gods a little disgusting: most of them were married but always cheated on their husbands or wives, one partner might have been enough for them.
"But they're only..." Percy almost mentioned the myths again. Surely he remembered Chiron's warning that in two thousand years, I might be considered a myth.
"But if all the children here are half-gods..."
"Demigods," Annabeth said. "That's the official term. Or half-blood."
"Then who's your dad?"
Her hands tightened on the dock railing. I sensed Percy had just broached a sensitive subject.
"My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was a very small. He teaches American history."
"He's human."
"What? You think it must be a male god who finds a human attractive? How sexist is that?
"Who's your mother, then?"
"Cabin Six."
"Meaning?"
Annabeth straightens up. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle."
"Okay," I say to myself. Why not Athena was a virgin goddess, but why not?
"And my father?"
"Undetermined," said Annabeth, "as I've already told you. No one knows.
"Except my mother. She knew."
"Perhaps not, Percy. The gods don't always reveal their identity."
"My father would have. He loved her."
Annabeth gave him a cautious look. She didn't want to burst her bubble.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. It's the only way to be sure: your father must send you a sign that recognizes you as his son. Sometimes that happens."
"You mean sometimes it doesn't?" Annabeth runs the palm of her hand along the railing. "The gods are busy. They have lots of children and they don't always... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us."
For ignorance my mother must have been an Olympic champion. I thought of some of the kids I'd seen in Hermes' cabin, teenagers who looked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would never come. I'd known kids like that at Yancy Academy, sent to boarding school by rich parents who didn't want to help them. I, unlike them, had an uncle who really cared about me, but the gods should behavebetter.
"So I'm stuck here," I said. "That's it? For the rest of my life?"
"It depends," Annabeth said. "Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But forsome of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Mostof the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble—about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."
"So monsters can't get in here? "Annabeth shook her head negatively.
"Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by someone on the inside."
"What possible reason could there be for summoning a monster?"
"Practice fight. Practical jokes."
"A practical jokes?"
"The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm.
"So ... you're a year-rounder ?" asked Percy.
Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt, she pulled out a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. It was exactly like Luke's, except Annabeth's also had a big gold ring on it, like a college ring. "I've been here since I was seven," she declared. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a pearl for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the advisors, and they're all in college."
"Why did you come so young?" She twisted the ring on her necklace.
" None of your business."
"Oh." Percy stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence. "So... I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?"
"It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until after the summer session unless..."
"Unless?" I asked.
"You've been granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time..." His voice trailed off. I could tell by his tone that the last time hadn't gone well. "Back in the sick room," Percy said, "when you were feeding me that stuff..."
"Ambrosia."
"Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice." Annabeth's shoulders tensed
"So do you know anything?"
"Well... no. Back at our old school, Kassi and I heard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something about how we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?"
She clenched her fists, "I'd like to know. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something's wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. The last time I was there, everything seemed so normal."
I looked at her. "You've been to Olympus?"
"Some of us year-rounders - Luke and Clarisse and me and a few others - took an excursion during the winter solstice. That's when the gods hold their great annual council."
"But... how did you get there?" asked Percy.
"The Long Island Rail road, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She looked at us as if sure we should already know. "You're New Yorkers, aren't you? "
"Yeah," I said. "But as far as I know, there were only a hundred and two floors in the Empire State Building, but I decided not to point that out.
"Right after we visited," Annabeth continued, "the weather got weird, like the gods had started fighting. A few times since then, I've heard satyrs talking. The best I can figure is that something important has been stolen. And if it's not returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. I mean, other than that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something. Percy shook his head. "Sorry," I said. I wished I could help him, but I was feeling too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions.
"I've got to get a quest," Annabeth mumbled to herself. "I'm not too young. If they could just tell me the problem..."
I could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Annabeth must have heard my stomach growl. She told me and Percy to keep going, she'd catch up with us later. We left her on the pier, tracing her finger on the railing as if drawing a battle plan. Back in Hermes' cabin, everyone was chatting and enjoying themselves until dinnertime. For the first time, I saw the resemblance between them all: pointed noses, raised eyebrows, mischievous smiles. These were the kids you immediately think of as troublemakers, and I could really tell they made me feel at home.
No one paid any attention to me when I went to slump down next to Percy on the corner we'd been provided.
Luke joined us. He I could see really had a family resemblance to those in the Hermes cabin, a little marred by his scar but at least his smile was intact.
"I found some sleeping bags for you," he said. Here, I stole you some toiletries from the colony storeroom." I wasn't sure if he was joking about the theft.
"Thanks," I said.
"No problem." (Luke sat down next to me, leaning against the wall.) "Rough first day?"
"I don't belong here," Percy said.
"What are you talking about remember what Annabeth said, she gave us all the possible answers and she's logical and you keep saying that?! " I asked her.
"What do you want me to say, I don't believe in gods!"
"And you think I do, it's just been revealed to me that my mother is probably an Olympian goddess who must be boasting on her little cloud up there and you think I do!" I shouted at her.
"You seem to believe in it more than me, Kassi!" he replied in kind.
"Of course because I'm less stupid than you, I have the impression that you don't see what's around us!"
"CALM DOWN!" Luke shouted at us. We stopped immediately and I realized that our little argument had silenced the whole cabin. Luke smiled at us and said:
"Don't worry, you know we all started out that way. And even if you start believing, it doesn't simplify anything."
Even with his apparent smile, there was a bit of bitterness in his voice. I was a little surprised, but I understood him: all-powerful gods walking around doesn't simplify things at all.
Percy was about to ask him some questions, but I left because I smelled of toilets and Percy was too stupid. I took some clothes from my suitcase, and went to the shower, the argument I'd just had with Percy running through my head, it's not every day it happens, especially as Percy had just lost his mother, who'd have thought something like that would happen to Sally. I had to forgive his burst of anger, even if I'd been the one to shout at him in the first place.
I didn't stay too long and when I came back Luke and Percy were still talking to Luke. I sat next to him, trying to fix the afro I'd already had for several days.
He was saying to Percy, "Don't worry about it," Luke said. "Annabeth wants to think that every new camper that comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for. Now, come on, it's time for dinner." No sooner had he finished his sentence than a horn sounded in the distance. I knew it was a conch shell, even though I'd never heard one before.
"Eleven," he shouted. "Fall in!"
The whole cabin, about twenty of us, lined up in order of seniority, Percy and I being the last ones. Other campers streamed in from the three empty cabins and the eighth, which was beginning to glow with a silvery light.
We climbed the hill towards the refectory. Satyrs left the meadow, then naiads from the lake, girls literally came out of the woods, they must have been nymphs, tree or plant spirits.
In the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered with a white cloth edged in purple. Four of the tables were empty, but cabin eleven was well overcrowded. I couldn't have sat down if we hadn't squeezed together. There was Grover at table twelve, Mr.D's table, with some other satyr and two guys who looked like Dionysus. Chiron stood right next to the table, even though it was too small for a centaur. Annabeth was sitting at table six with a group of youngsters, looking sporty with blue eyes and blond hair.
Clarisse was seated behind me at Ares' table. She'd apparently recovered from being hosed down, as she laughed and belched alongside her friends. Finally, Chiron thumped his hoof against the pavilion's marble floor, and everyone fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"
Everyone else raised a glass.
"To the gods!" The wood nymphs showed up with trays of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue! My glass was empty, but Luke said:
"Speak to it. Anything you want, no alcohol, of course."
"Guava juice."
My glass filled with a pink-colored liquid.
I tasted it, and it was fresh and delicious.
"Here you go, Percy, Kassi," Luke said, handing us a platter of smoked brisket.
I loaded up my plate and was about to take a big bite when I noticed everyone getting up, carrying their plates to the fire in the center of the pavilion. I wondered if they were going to have dessert or something.
"Come on," Luke said to me and Percy. As I approached, I saw that everyone was taking part of their meal and throwing it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, buttiest roll. Luke whispered in my ear:
" Burnt offerings for the gods. They love the smell. "
"You're kidding."
His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn't help wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burnt food. Luke approached the fire, lowered his head and tossed in a bunch of large red grapes. "Hermes."
I was next. If Luke really wanted the gods to love the smell of holocausts, then I wasn't going to give my mother that pleasure. I wasn't even going to pray to her. I scraped a slice of breast into the flames, not bothering to dedicate it to anyone. When I smelled a puff of smoke, I didn't retch. Not the smell of burning food, but rather hot chocolate, cupcakes, hamburgers and wildflowers and so on - they should never have mixed, but this time if it everyone had returned to their seats and finished eating, Chiron clapped his hoof again to attract our attention. Mr. D stood up with a huge sigh.
"Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello . Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five currently holds the laurels."
A bunch of ugly cheers went up from the Ares table.
"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have two new campers today. Peter Johnson and Kelly kniffe."
Chiron murmured something.
" Er, Percy Jackson and Kassi Knight," corrected Mr. D.
"That's right. Hooray, and all that. Now run along to your stupid campfire. Keep going."
Everyone cheered. We headed to the amphitheater, where the Apollo Cabin enlivened the evening with song.
Everyone applauded. We all headed for the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin hosted the evening's singing. We sang songs about the gods, ate chocolate-roasted s'mores, laughed and joked, and the funny thing was, I didn't feel like anyone was watching me anymore. I felt at home.
Later that evening, as the sparks from the campfire flew into the starry sky, the conch shell sounded again and we all lined up back to our bungalows. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed onto my borrowed sleeping bag.
The second I closed my eyes, I fell asleep. Such was my first day at the Camp Half-Blood. Little did I know then that my stay in my new home would be so short...