Chapter 36

Rhea POV

I sat down at table three, but no one sat with me, so I went over to the Hermes table and sat down next to Luke.

"You aren't really supposed to sit here," he said to me.

"Well, what happened to 'cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors'?" I asked him. I want to make a good impression on him, with the way things are going, I'm going to go on a quest soon and I don't want to change the storyline to the point that I don't know what's going to happen. I don't remember everything from the books, but hopefully enough to get through this life without dying too soon.

"Good point," he said and continued talking about how the training was going to be like.

"Hey, Luke?" I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"What kind of shorts do clouds wear?" I ask, smirking.

"I don't know," he said unsure.

"Thunderwear," I replied smoothly.

He slaps his thigh, shaking his head. "No, just no."

"What? It's funny. It made you sort of laugh."

Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her grey eyes and honey-blond hair. Dad doesn't like Athena, they have some sort of rivalry going on.

Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over being hosed down, because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends.

Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue!

My glass was empty, but Luke said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want—non-alcoholic, of course."

I said, "Blue Fanta grape."

And it appeared, just like that. I had a big smile on my face. Why can't dad do this? I should probably ask him if he can first before making assumptions.

"Here you go, Percy," Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket.

I loaded my plate and was about to take a big bite when I noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the center of the pavilion. Oh yeah, burnt offerings. We had a bonfire at our university before spring break and I threw my hotdog in for dad once. He liked it apparently. I found it really weird.

"Come on," Luke told me.

As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll.

Luke murmured in my ear, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like 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 burning food.

Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes."

I was next.

Thanks dad for helping me today.

I scraped a big slice of brisket into the flames for him.

When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention.

Mr. D got 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 presently holds the laurels."

A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table.

"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Riley Johnson."

Chiron murmured something.

"Er, Rhea Jackson," Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

I groan out, I'm doomed to face the same things as my counterpart.

Luke stared at me, "You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, just peachy," I reply.

The next few days I settled into a routine that felt almost normal, we did a lot of training and my new teachers' styles were different from my fathers'. Definitely easier, but at the same time, it's good to have variety.

Each morning I took Ancient Greek from Annabeth, which wasn't really necessary, but she insisted, and we talked about the gods and goddesses, history, and monsters. She looked annoyed that I knew so much. Guess someone isn't used to having a more knowledgeable person around.

Chiron tried to teach me archery, but he found out that I wasn't very good with a bow and arrow. I could at least shoot somewhat straight. All the practice I've done has paid off. He looked baffled for a moment when I got it right, but then he concluded our lesson and I continued on.

I had to train with Clarisse in wrestling. Why me? Every time I got on the mat, Clarisse would try to crush me. She wasn't taking it easy on me, and neither was I. I did not spend hours training with Triton just so that a demi-god could take me down.

"There's more where that came from, punk," she'd mumble in my ear when she pinned me, once. I might have earned her respect and ire when I knocked her off of her feet almost every time. At least she isn't treating me too badly. I've had to deal with worse kids than her at my school.

I really excelled at canoeing, just like my counterpart. I do love water. It calms me.

I knew the senior campers and counselors were watching me, I could practically feel their eyes burning into me, or was it Zeus glaring at me from Mt. Olympus.

They haven't encountered 'Triton's kid' before and don't exactly know what to expect from me. My skills are above average, considering I've never been to camp.

"I've had defense training," I said to Clarisse.

"I've trained in archery before in my high school," I told Chiron. I didn't tell him that I really, really sucked at it, especially in the beginning.

Luke told me I could've been a child of Hermes, kind of a jack-of-all-trades, master of none, if it weren't for my looks and already being claimed. Apparently I impressed him with my skills.

I knew Luke resents his father, I knew him from my foreknowledge, but it's so different getting to know him. I can't imagine the things he will still have to face. He really is kind, despite being two-faced and worn down by my lovely, evil grandfather.

I understand his resentment; the other gods don't care all that much as my dad does. They don't talk to their kids. They might send small gifts every now and then if their kid impresses them enough. The system is wrong. My dad loves me despite my faults, despite the mistakes I might make. Most other gods only care about themselves and their image.

Thursday afternoon, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I had my first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be our instructor.

We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armour.

I'm not doing this again. I know how to fight with a sword.

"Luke," I called him over after he got everyone set up.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I know how to use a sword. I've done some training before."

"Alright, show me what you've got," he said.

"Good luck," one of the campers told me. "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."

"I'm sure he is very good," I said, agreeing with them. I'm not sure I want to show them how good I am. It's good that they underestimate me. It will be good if Luke can underestimate me.

My father gave me riptide as a birthday gift when I turned ten years old.

We got in position and we slashed at each other, back and forth, I blocked him and kicked at his feet. He jumped out of the way and stopped our fight.

"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered. "If Rhea doesn't mind, I want to give you a little demo," he continued and I shrugged at him.

The Hermes guys gathered around and were suppressing smiles at what they thought was about to happen to me. I grinned evilly, on the inside. I don't want to give them any indication that I'm not worried about Luke.

"This is a difficult manoeuvre, the disarming technique," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Rhea, if she gets it wrong. She says she has experience but most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."

He demonstrated with the method with Percy, but with me, he only said, " Are you ready?" I confirm with a nod of my head, "On the count of three…" he said and counted to three.

I guess he is taking me more seriously than he had Percy.

I nodded, and Luke came after me. Our swords clashed, back and forth, and despite the worthy opponent facing me, I have faced two gods in my training. This is actually a lot of fun.

Luke advanced on me with rapid speed, trying to disarm me, but calculating his move, I twisted myself out of the way and disarmed him as he came at me, twisting his sword arm painfully behind his back, disarming him completely as his sword fell to the ground with a thud.

Silence.

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak.

A smile spread across his face, "That was amazing!" he exclaimed, "Let's go again!"

We parried back and forth as our audience stood in awe at the techniques shown. I realized that if I didn't want Kronos to find out how good I really am, then I would have to lose. I hate losing, I think glumly.

He tried to disarm me again and I let him. I visibly pouted as my sword clanged with his.

"That was awesome!" someone yelled.

"Well done Luke!" I congratulate him, shaking his hand.

"Thanks, you fought well today. You're really good Rhea," he says, but his eyes narrow. Suspicion in his eyes.

I averted my eyes and made an excuse to leave.

He knows I lost on purpose, I thought I hid it well. Maybe my pouting gave me away.