Author Note: Sorry for the slight delay in posting. I've been a bit sick and just recovered. Without further ado, let's get into it.

Chapter 3
Hermes Cabin Has No Personal Space

Darkness pressed against me – thick, suffocating, and alive.

Flashes of fire split the void, illuminating the nightmare around me. I was back on the hill. My breath quickened. I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, like I'd been sunk in wet cement.

Silas's face floated into view – twisted in agony, his final smile a grotesque mockery of reassurance.

"Get to… camp…"

The words echoed through my skull like a broken record.

Camp.

Where was camp?

I spun, searching, but all I saw was an endless slope of corpses. Bloodied faces stared back at me – some familiar, some not, all frozen in expressions of torment. With each step I took, I sank deeper into the mound of flesh and bone, the ground sucking at my boots like quicksand.

A shriek split the air, sharp and piercing. I snapped my head up, just in time to glimpse a blur of wings cutting through the sky. Lightning split the heavens, striking the bird mid-flight. In its place stood a lone pine tree, like a lighthouse in the storm. My salvation.

I staggered toward it, boots squelching through the gore, sinking deeper with every step. By the time I reached the tree, only my arm remained above the surface, clawing at the air.

The darkness swallowed me again.

Thick, coppery blood filled my mouth as I fought for breath. I didn't want to die – not here. Not like this.

And then, as the last of my strength faded, something grabbed my arm. A shadowy figure yanked me from the mire, hoisting me up like I was nothing. Its eyes glowed like molten gold, bright against the black abyss.

Screams echoed on the wind. Steel clashed in the distance.

"Well, well, well," the figure rumbled, its voice deep and coiled with menace. "What do we have here, little hero? Abandoned and alone? I think you'll do nicely."

Before I could speak, the thing flung me through the air. The world spun around me as I awaited the impending pain.

But the impact never came.

Instead, I landed in the arms of a girl I'd never seen before, her grip steady, effortless, as if I weighed nothing at all. Where her skin met mine, warmth bloomed, static dancing beneath the surface.

I looked up.

Sharp features. Wild black hair. Eyes that burned electric blue – not like a human's, but like twin bolts of lightning trapped behind glass. They cut through the dark like a storm on the horizon.

"Get up," she ordered, her voice steady but urgent.

I tried. My body wouldn't cooperate.

The golden-eyed figure loomed in the distance, watching, waiting.

"Come on!" she snapped, gripping my shoulders. Sparks leapt from her fingers, biting into my skin.

"Who-?" My voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

Her scowl deepened. "No time. You have to wake up."

The earth trembled beneath us. The corpses writhed, groaning, their hands stretching toward me. The golden-eyed figure shifted, its form blurring like smoke in the wind.

The girl clenched her jaw. "Oh, for the love of Hades-"

Then she pressed her fingertips against my forehead. Electricity surged through me.

My back arched. My vision went white.

And I woke up screaming.

"AARRGGHHHH!"

The harsh glare of the lights above stabbed at my eyes. The air reeked of antiseptic and something sickly sweet, each scent battling for dominance. Every sound felt amplified to the point that my eardrums began to bleed. I clenched my eyes shut, clamping my hands over my ears, the phantom scent of acid burning my nostrils.

My heartbeat pounded like war drums in my skull. Why wouldn't this pain stop?

"Hey! Hey, kid – breathe!"

A warm, firm hand gripped my arm, anchoring me. Through blurred vision, I made out a boy crouched beside me, maybe fourteen or fifteen, his golden curls almost glowing under the lights. His expression was etched with concern.

"He's burning up," a girl murmured nearby. "Get the nectar."

The words barely registered before something warm pressed against my lips.

"Drink," the boy urged. "It'll help."

I hesitated. But my body, desperate for relief, acted before my mind could argue. I drank.

The moment the liquid touched my tongue, a rush of warmth flooded my senses. The taste of Mum's fried chicken – crispy, buttery, spiced just right – filled my mouth, carrying with it a bittersweet wave of comfort.

The pain ebbed away, dulling to a manageable throb. My muscles unclenched as I slumped back onto the bed, my breath shuddering but growing steadier by the minute.

"There we go," the boy whispered, watching me closely. "Better?"

I could only nod weakly, still trembling.

"I thought the ambrosia would've healed everything by now," the boy muttered to the girl. "It's been a week since he was brought in, so why is he still in pain, Adelyn?"

"I-I don't know," Adelyn stammered. "Maybe he has a delayed reaction?"

Their words swirled in my mind, but I was too drained to question them. My senses still felt stretched thin, like a wire wound too tight, ready to snap.

I focused on my breathing.

In – one, two, three. Out – one, two, three.

Slowly, the war drums in my ears quieted to a steady rhythm. The sounds softened from piercing shrieks to whispers. The lights still pressed against my eyelids, but they no longer seared like tiny suns. My hands twitched at my sides as I adjusted, willing myself to adapt.

Not great, but better.

I forced my eyes open. The brightness made me flinch, but I didn't recoil. My surroundings sharpened into focus – rows of beds lined the room, shelves were stocked with bandages, and soft white curtains let the daylight flutter in. I was in an infirmary.

The boy exhaled in relief. "You with us now?"

I hesitated, then gave a weak nod.

"Yeah," I rasped, my voice hoarse but functional.

Adelyn let out a breath. "I'll let Chiron know he's awake." She slipped through a pair of double doors before I could say a word.

I slumped back against the pillows, exhaustion weighing me down. My brain felt like a storm – questions and half-formed memories clashing, colliding, demanding answers. My fingers clenched into the blanket. How had I even ended up here? The last thing I remembered was–

The Hydra.

The ground shaking. The roars. Silas's screams as he melted.

Oh god, please tell me that was just a very bad dream.

The doors swung open and a man in a wheelchair rolled in. He was older, his long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, his kind eyes radiating wisdom. Dressed in a tweed jacket over a crisp white shirt, he looked more like a college professor than anything else.

The boy stood, offering him a respectful nod. "Chiron."

The name sent a ripple through my mind, like it was a name I should recognise, but I couldn't quite place where I'd heard it before.

Chiron smiled gently, his gaze settling on me.

"Theo," he said, his voice warm and soothing. "I'm so glad to see you awake. You certainly gave us quite the scare."

"How do you-?"

"Know your name?" he finished for me. "Luke, the camper who found you, told us as you were brought in. Another minute or so, and we likely wouldn't be having this conversation."

That sounded about right, given how I felt.

"So… this is…?"

"You're safe now," Chiron reassured me. "You're at Camp Half-Blood. A sanctuary for… those like you." His eyes twinkled. "I heard that your arrival was a bit more dramatic than most."

My heart sunk. It wasn't a nightmare. So that must mean...

"Silas…" I whispered, his name a painful lump in my throat. "Is he-?"

Chiron's face softened. "I'm sorry, Theo. He was a good satyr. A true protector. He gave his life to ensure your safety."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I swallowed hard, pushing down the bile that began to rise in my throat. I turned, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. He was gone. And it was my fault.

Chiron rested a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You're not alone, Theo. You stand among those he fought for, those who will remember him as the hero he was. And here, we don't let our family grieve alone."

Family. The word felt foreign. My real family had abandoned me. They'd left me to die to save Lily. A bitter laugh almost escaped me.

I clenched my fists, swallowing hard. "It should've been me."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Silas was the one who knew what he was doing. I was just… just some idiot who slowed him down. If I had – if I had been faster, or smarter, or stronger, maybe-"

"Theo." Chiron's voice was calm and steady. "Silas made his choice. Not out of obligation, not because of a mistake – but because he believed in you." He gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. "That's what satyrs like him do. They protect demigods, yes, but more importantly – they believe in them. And he believed in you."

My breath hitched. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but I couldn't. Because deep down, some part of me knew it was true. And that just made it worse.

Chiron continued, his tone gentle. "I know it's a lot to process. If you'd prefer to rest, we can talk-"

"No!" I snapped. "I'm tired of not knowing anything about this demigod crap. I need answers."

The sharpness in my own voice startled me, but at least it helped ground me – gave me something to focus on besides the hollow ache in my chest.

Chiron blinked, then nodded. "I see. Silas had already explained some things?"

"Yeah, before he-" My throat tightened once more.

Chiron gave me a moment before continuing. "Then you understand the basics. Demigods are the children of the Olympians – Greek gods who still influence the modern world."

My mind raced as continued. This was it. This was my chance to get real answers.

I latched onto the distraction, clinging to it like a lifeline.

Focus. Stay in control.

"So… the Greek gods are real? Just like the myths?"

"Indeed," Chiron confirmed. "And their power is strongest in the heart of Western civilization. Right now, that's America."

"What about other gods? From other mythologies? Thor, Horus, even God?"

Chiron hesitated. Just for a second. But I saw it.

"That's… complicated," he said carefully. "History is vast, and the divine even more so. For now, it's best not to dwell on such trivialities."

That wasn't a real answer. Figures.

Silas had freaked out when my mum revealed she was a Nephilim… a creature I know is only mentioned in the Bible. That reaction was starting to make a lot more sense now. I could sense that Chiron knew more than he let on, and either he wasn't allowed to say anything, or he just didn't want to.

Fine. Two could play that game.

I took a slow breath, forcing myself to shift gears. If I couldn't get answers about that, I'd have to try a different approach and figure out another angle. Figuring out what made this guy tick would probably help, but what did I know about him?

Let's see. His name is Chiron. He sounds older than he lets on, he's clearly done this a number of times. He dresses like an old professor and oversees a camp of demigods. Likely connected to the Greek gods… wait a minute, could he be…?

My mouth moved before my brain could stop it. "I heard the others call you Chiron. Does that mean you're the Chiron? The centaur? Trainer of Achilles, Jason, and basically every famous Greek hero ever?"

A small smile played at Chiron's lips. "You know your myths."

My gaze flicked to his wheelchair. Something wasn't adding up. If Chiron was a centaur, how was he sitting in a wheelchair? Unless…

My eyes widened. "Your wheelchair… it's not really a wheelchair, is it? It's some kind of… pocket dimension, I'm guessing?"

Chiron's smile widened, a hint of pride in his voice. "Very observant, Theo. Yes, well… let's just say it's a necessary accommodation for first meetings like this." He shifted slightly, the wheels of his chair creaking softly. "A bit cramped, admittedly, but it serves its purpose."

The shift in conversation felt jarring, but weirdly… welcome. The weight in my chest didn't go away, not completely. But for the first time since waking up, I felt like I could breathe.

"But… how?" I leaned forward, so fascinated that I couldn't help myself but get a closer look. "Is it folded space? A magical portal? Is there a tiny stable in there with hay and everything?"

Behind me, the boy snickered.

"I know which cabins I'd be betting on," he muttered, grinning.

Chiron shot him a flat look but didn't argue.

A silly thought hit me, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Wait – if you are a centaur… doesn't that mean you technically have two ponytails right now?"

The boy snorted – full-on, had-to-bite-his-lip snorted. Chiron sighed and undid his hair tie, letting his hair fall loose.

I swear I heard him mutter, "Never again."

Oops.

The boy burst into laughter. Something in my chest loosened just a little, and before I knew it, I was grinning, too.

Chiron shook his head. "David, why don't you show Theo around camp? A bit of fresh air might do him good."

Yup, I definitely soured his mood. I was off to a great start.

"Sure thing, Chiron." David grinned. "C'mon, Theo. Let me show you the ropes."

David led me away from what was apparently called 'the Big House' (clearly, naming things creatively wasn't a priority here), whistling a tune that I was pretty sure was the theme from Indiana Jones. I wasn't sure whether that should comfort or concern me.

"So, Camp Half-Blood," he announced, sweeping his arm wide. "We've got everything a demigod could ever need – training grounds, cabins, camp store…" He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "…and the occasional monster attack in the woods. So, you know, don't wander off alone."

"Fantastic," I deadpanned. Mentally, I added 'the woods' to my growing list of places to avoid.

He grinned, oblivious to my sarcasm. "You'll get used to it."

We passed a fenced-off area where kids were sparring with various weapons.

"That's the combat arena. Survive your first few training sessions, and you're already ahead of the curve."

Just as we walked by, a pint-sized girl with a dagger sent her opponent sprawling.

"That's… comforting." I gulped.

David snorted. "Over there are the stables. The pegasi love sugar cubes, but no unauthorised joyrides." I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he cut me off, smirking. "And no, Chiron doesn't sleep there."

My question had, in fact, been about Chiron's sleeping arrangements. I shut my mouth, feeling a blush creep up my neck. This guy was way too good at reading me.

As we continued, I took in the odd mix of activities around the camp – campers repairing armour straps, weaving baskets (seriously, baskets?), and playing volleyball with the intensity of gladiators. I swear I saw sparks fly when someone spiked the ball.

Then I saw it. A massive, rumbling structure that made my jaw drop.

"Is that… lava?"

"Yup," David nodded like molten rock was a standard landscaping feature. "Extra challenge, or something."

He was so casual about it. Part of me was horrified, but another part… kinda wanted to climb that lava wall. Clearly, this place was already messing with my head.

We stopped at a forge that radiated an intense heat. Inside, campers hammered at glowing metal, sparks flying with each clang. The air smelled like an unholy mixture of smoke and sweat.

"You'll typically find at least one or two Hephaestus kids around here," David explained. "If you ever need something fixed or you want some custom armour, they're your guys. Just be prepared for explosions."

As if on cue, an alarm blared, and a kid stumbled out, coughing. "I told you not to mix celestial bronze with-"

BOOM!

A small fireball erupted from the forge.

David patted my shoulder. "See? Perfectly normal."

I rubbed my temples. "This place is insane."

He grinned. "You'll fit right in."

I doubted that.

"So… all these kids are demigods?" I asked.

"Every single one," he confirmed. "Power levels vary depending on the godly parent, but yeah, we all have that good old-fashioned divine blood flowing through our veins."

I glanced around, suddenly feeling very small. These kids were powerful. Dagger Girl could probably fillet me before I blinked. The Hephaestus kids played with fire like it was Play-Doh. Even the volleyball players looked lethal.

And me? I was just… lucky. Lucky to have had Silas. Lucky my parents were… whatever they were. Lucky to be alive.

David nudged me. "You okay? You've gone a bit pale."

"Just… thinking," I mumbled.

He smirked. "Lot to take in, huh?"

Understatement of the century.

We reached a circle of twelve cabins, each distinct – some ornate, others downright intimidating. I'm pretty sure I saw one wrapped in barbed wire and another gleamed so brightly that it nearly burned my retinas.

"Welcome to the cabin circle," David declared. "Home sweet home."

"So, I just… pick one?" I asked, gesturing at the cabins.

He chuckled. "Not quite. See, each cabin belongs to a different Olympian. If you're claimed by your godly parent, you get a bed in their cabin. If not, you bunk in Cabin Eleven." He pointed to a plain-looking cabin near the end.

I frowned. "There are way more than just the twelve Olympians, right? What if you never get claimed by one of the twelve, or even don't get claimed at all?"

David hesitated, then gave a half-hearted shrug. "Then you stay in Cabin Eleven."

His nonchalance concerned me.

"So, which one's yours?" I asked. "You don't strike me as someone who hasn't been claimed yet."

"Cabin Seven." He puffed out his chest. "Apollo claimed me last winter, so I didn't have to bunk with the Hermes kids for long, thank the gods. That place is a zoo." He shuddered dramatically.

The blatant disdain in his voice made my stomach twist. So that's how it was. The unclaimed were the bottom rung of the ladder to this guy.

"So," he continued, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "Any clues about your godly parent? Any weird talents? Hidden powers?"

I hesitated. I hadn't exactly prepared for a divine parentage questionnaire.

"I don't know," I said slowly. "Uh... I'm good at thinking on my feet. I've got some decent reflexes, I guess?"

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Survival instincts. Hermes, maybe? Or Athena? Though her kids usually have that whole warrior vibe, and she tends to claim them at birth anyway, so…"

I scowled. "I can fight."

He snorted. "Sure – once you stop looking so terrified at the idea of getting into the arena with a ten-year-old girl. I'm just saying… not very Athena-like."

My ears burned. This guy was starting to tick me off.

Then he asked the question that took the wind out of my sails.

"How about something simpler? Who's your mortal parent?"

My mouth suddenly felt dry. I had been avoiding that question since the night I first learned I was a demigod.

Mum and Dad.

Which one of them was my real parent? And which was the "cover parent", as Silas had once put it?

Was it my dad, with his uncanny knowledge of the supernatural and his almost inhuman fighting skills? He'd wielded that sword like an extension of his own arm, cutting down monsters like he'd been doing it his whole life.

Or was it my mum? The memory of her transformation, of the raw, primal power radiating from her, sent a shiver down my spine. What could I expect if she turned out to be my "mortal" parent?

Could my senses going haywire in the infirmary have had something to do with my godly parent… or was it something from Mum or Dad?

Given Silas's reaction to my mum and Chiron's avoidance of my question about other pantheons, I felt that perhaps I should keep my cards close to my chest… for now, at least.

David was still watching me, too eager, too interested. The way he kept looking over his shoulder, towards the other cabins, told me everything I needed to know. This wasn't just friendly curiosity; this was insider trading. He wanted the scoop, the edge in whatever demigod betting pool was currently running.

"I don't know."

He blinked. "Wait, what?"

"That's just it," I said curtly. "I. Don't. Know."

David opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly re-evaluating whatever theory he had cooked up. "Huh. That's… weird."

"Yeah, well, welcome to my life."

He stood perplexed for a second, then shook his head and started walking.

"Right. Well, Cabin Eleven's this way. Home of the perpetually unclaimed and the… uh… uniquely parented."

I didn't follow immediately.

I looked at the cabins again, a strange sense of longing tugging at me. Somewhere in this circle was a cabin that held a connection to my past, to my future, to me. The only question was which one? And would I ever find out?

"Coming?" David called. His tone was almost dismissive. He'd gotten what he wanted – or rather, hadn't gotten anything, which was apparently just as valuable for his betting purposes.

I lingered a moment longer, his attitude toward me stinging more than I cared to admit, then trudged after him, my footsteps echoing the hollowness in my chest.

Cabin Eleven was… underwhelming.

It wasn't bad, exactly. Just… not what I was expecting from a godly cabin. Plain wood walls, the rows of bunk beds crammed together like barracks, the single flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling – it all felt more like a forgotten storage closet than a place where demigods lived. The air carried the faint scent of stale socks and dashed hopes. Compared to the other cabins, with their shimmering facades and distinct personalities, Hermes cabin felt oddly unremarkable.

And given Hermes' reputation as the god of thieves – not to mention David's clear disdain for this place – I wasn't about to let my guard down.

My hand instinctively brushed the metallic wristband hidden beneath my sleeve. Dad's journal sat heavily in my pocket. Call me paranoid, but my Spidey-senses were usually tingling for a reason.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled, amusement threading through every syllable. "Look what the hellhound dragged in."

I had barely set foot inside before a young woman strolled over, her sharp features set in a knowing smirk. Her brown hair was pulled back into a practical ponytail, and her faded orange camp shirt spoke of years of wear. Even amidst the controlled chaos of the cabin, she radiated authority.

Her eyes flicked to David, who leaned against the doorframe like he owned the place.

"Davey," she greeted, drawing out the name. "Back so soon? Did you finally get struck by divine inspiration and decide to switch cabins?"

A flicker of annoyance shot across David's face (guess I know what I'll be calling him soon) before he snorted derisively. "Please, as if I'd abandon the golden melodies of Apollo for this… den of iniquity."

The girl grinned. "You wound me."

Then, her attention landed on me, and suddenly, I was very aware of the dozen or so pairs of eyes watching.

"And you must be our newest resident."

I swallowed. "Uh… hi?"

"Mia Harper," she introduced herself, extending a hand. "Cabin counsellor, Keeper of the Unclaimed, and – most importantly – unofficial bookie for all things demigod."

I shook her hand cautiously. Her grip was firm, confident.

"Theo West."

She turned back to David. "Got anything for me?"

David sighed dramatically. "Not much. Kid doesn't even know which parent is mortal. Makes my job damn near impossible. Same time, same place?"

Mia narrowed her eyes. "Your intel better be good this time. Last month's Demeter debacle cost me nearly twenty drachmas."

David winced. "Hey, that wasn't my fault! Julia was way too aggressive to be a gardener. How was I supposed to know she wasn't an Ares kid?"

"She chased you with a sickle after you asked her out for the tenth time." Mia rolled her eyes. "Using a gardening tool as a weapon should've been your first clue!"

David opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He turned and made a hasty retreat, whistling what sounded suspiciously like "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden". A well-aimed boot clipped the back of his head as he went, which was met with a chorus of laughter.

"Alright, everyone, hands where I can see them!" Mia clapped her hands. "No fleecing the newbie – at least not until tomorrow."

A few groans echoed through the cabin. I instinctively patted my pockets. I had a feeling that was going to become a habit.

"Luke," Mia called. "Got any space near you?"

My ears perked up. Luke – wasn't that the guy who found me on the hill?

Across the cabin, Luke sat up, ruffling his sandy blonde hair. He met my gaze, then nodded. "Yeah, over here."

Relief washed over me. At least there was one familiar face.

I wove through the maze of bunk beds and sprawled limbs. Luke swung his legs over the side of his bunk, making room for me.

"Good to see you in one piece," he said, his smile genuine. "The Apollo kids work miracles, but even they have their limits."

"Thanks," I replied, sinking onto the bunk beside him. "For… you know."

"Don't mention it," he said with a shrug. "Besides, I'm not in the habit of letting kids die on my watch."

"Still appreciate it."

For a moment, we just sat there, letting the noise of the cabin swirl around us.

"So," Luke said, studying me. "First day at Camp Half-Blood. Besides waking from a near-death experience… how's it going?"

I gave a dry laugh. "Just fricking peachy."

"Not feeling it?"

I hesitated.

"It's just… a lot. Everyone here has powers, a parent, a purpose. I barely made it here in one piece."

Luke had a pensive look on his face. "Can I tell you something?"

Lemme guess, he's going to tell me how wonderful it is.

"When I first got here? I hated it."

I… did not expect that. And apparently it showed because Luke smirked.

"Yeah, shocking, I know. But I was angry. Lost. It took me a long time to figure out where I fit in. And I still…" He trailed off, something unreadable flickering across his face before he shook it away. "Point is, you don't have to have to figure it all out right away. Or ever, really."

For all his confidence, there was something else underneath. Something raw. Maybe I wasn't the only one struggling here.

A comfortable silence settled between us, a shared understanding that didn't need words. The noise of the Hermes cabin faded into the background, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Clearly my thoughts are out to get me, because the instant I close my eyes, my mind brings forth images of that night in the car like I was watching a movie. HD quality, no less.

The screech of the tires, the crunch of metal, the world upside down. Mum and Dad, faces grim, throwing themselves into the horde. Their last words echoing in my ears – Get him to camp. Keep him safe.

Not I love you. Not We'll be back. Just… orders.

A lump formed in my throat. Were they even thinking about me now? Or were they too focused on their own survival and taking care of Lily to remember the kid they'd left behind?

I know why they left. I keep telling myself over and over. The monsters were closing in. They had to get my sister to safety. They had to trust that I could make it.

But knowing that didn't stop the feeling from gnawing at me. They ran. They left me. And Silas was now dead because of that. And if Luke hadn't found me…

I shook the thought away, but the anger remained, bubbling under my skin like a parasite. I needed to talk to them. No, I needed them to hear me. I needed to say everything that had been clawing at my chest since I woke up.

And even more importantly, I had to find out if they were even still alive.

The words were out before I could stop myself.

"Is there… is there any way to contact someone on the outside? A phone or something?"

"Lemme guess, your family?" Luke sighed.

I hesitated. Did I want to? Even if what I heard might not be what I wanted to know?

"Yeah," I muttered, clenching my fists. "I just… I need to talk to them."

Well, more like scream and yell at them, but that's just splitting hairs at this point.

Luke looked at me, a strange mixture of pity and understanding in his eyes.

"Look, even if the camp had a phone, it's not a good idea. They basically send out huge 'Eat me, I'm delicious' signals to monsters when demigods use them. Same goes for the Internet too."

"So, we're just… cut off from everyone outside the camp?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly. There's Iris messaging. It's like a magical video call. You throw a drachma into a rainbow, say who you want to talk to after a little prayer to Iris, and boom. Instant connection – sort of."

"A rainbow? Seriously?"

Luke grinned. "Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but Iris is the goddess of the rainbow. It's kinda her thing." He dug into his pocket and tossed me a golden coin. "Here, on the house. For when you're ready."

I turned the coin over in my palm, feeling the weight and all the inscriptions on it. I admit it, I was genuinely touched by his charity.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Just then, a small boy with dark reddish-brown hair and amber eyes scrambled onto the bunk opposite us. He had a mischievous grin and a scattering of freckles across his nose. He was younger than me, maybe nine or ten, but there was a spark in his eyes, a resilience that made him seem older.

"Hey, Luke!" he chirped. "You hear about the capture-the-flag game next week? I'm so gonna nail Clarisse this time!"

Luke chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. "Sure you are, kid. Just try not to get trampled by the Ares cabin again."

The boy stuck his tongue out. "They cheat! They're not allowed to block my arrows, that's a rule, ain't it?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "That's what they all say." He gestured toward me. "Eli, this is Theo. He the one we found on the hill last week."

The boy's expression dropped. "You were the one with Silas?"

"Yeah," I replied cautiously. "You knew him?"

He nodded, his gaze distant. "He saved me."

Wait, this was one of the demigods that Silas had saved before me? Within a second, it felt like a piece of the puzzle had just snapped into place.

"Your last name wouldn't happen to be Hunter, right?"

His eyes widened. "How did you know that?"

I swallowed. "Silas mentioned you, before…" I hesitated, but Eli nodded in understanding.

"He talked about me?"

"Yeah. He said you were a tough kid. That you fought off giant ants even when you thought he was crazy."

Eli let out a chuckle, but it was laced with sadness. "Yeah, that was dumb. I should've listened sooner."

Luke watched us quietly before speaking. "Silas sounds like he was a good satyr."

"He was the best," Eli and I said at the same time.

We exchanged a glance before sharing a small, bittersweet laugh.

Eli shifted, glancing between us. "You ever meet a satyr before him?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I think I would've been more prepared if I had. I just assumed monsters weren't real until one tried to eat me."

Luke leaned back against his bunk. "That's how it goes for most of us. I was lucky – I had Thalia and Annabeth with me."

At their mention, something in his expression shifted. Not sad, exactly, but… distant. Like he was looking at something far away.

"The tree at the boundary," he said after a moment. "The one that stopped the Hydra from getting you, that used to be Thalia."

My eyebrows raised. "The tree was a person?"

"A demigod," Luke corrected. "A daughter of Zeus. She saved me and Annabeth – stood her ground against an entire army of monsters while we made it to camp." His jaw tightened. "She didn't make it."

The weight of his words settled over us like a thick blanket. I exchanged a glance with Eli, who looked just as uncomfortable as I felt.

"That's… that's rough," I said finally.

Luke exhaled, forcing a smile. "Yeah. But she's still protecting us. Even now."

None of us said anything after that, but the silence wasn't awkward. Just… reflective.

Then, from outside, a horn blared, echoing across the camp.

"Eleven, fall in!" Mia yelled.

Eli jumped up, his earlier sadness forgotten.

"Food!"

He scrambled off the bunk, getting in the back of a line that had formed almost instantly. Given how Luke went almost to the front of the line, I assumed it was in order of seniority. Meaning I was dead last behind Eli.

We marched out the cabin and up the hill to a large open-air pavilion filled with long tables, each covered in a white cloth labelled with a different god's symbol.

Masses of kids, aged from as young as Eli to as old as Mia, filed in and sat down at different tables. Some remained empty, others were packed… Hermes's table was overflowing to the point I had to lock my elbow with Eli's so that I wouldn't fall off the edge of the seat.

A pounding on the marble floor drew my attention, and I saw Chiron standing nearby, his lower half resembling the body of a white stallion. Even though I mentally knew he was a centaur, it was still weird to actually see it in-person.

Everyone fell silent.

Chiron raised a glass to the air. "To the gods!"

"To the gods!" came the response.

A group of beautiful girls with green-tinged skin came forward with platters of food stacked with roasted meat, fresh bread, and fruits. Luke handed me a plate and I piled it high.

I was just about to dig in when the table stood up and walked towards the large brazier in the centre of the pavilion.

"Rule number one: best portion goes to the gods." Luke whispered as he passed me.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Eli went before me, hesitating before he slid the juiciest slice of beef off his plate and into the fire, murmuring under his breath. "Please, Mum, just a sign, please."

I was up next.

I sighed, grabbing a handful of the ripest strawberries and tossing it into the flames. The scent of it wafted upward, carried away to Olympus. I stared after it for a moment before muttering, "Whoever you are, I hope you're watching."

I didn't know if they heard me.

But I figured I'd find out soon enough.

As we sat back down, Luke clapped me on the shoulder. "Eat up, kid. You're gonna need your strength."

I nodded, sitting back down next to Eli. As I dug into my food, I felt a flicker of hope that, for the first time in a while, I wasn't completely alone. Maybe this really was my family now.

The drachma in my pocket felt slightly heavier at that thought.

But first… I needed to talk to my parents. I needed answers.

And I needed to honour Silas's sacrifice.

As soon as dinner ended, I slipped away from the pavilion, keeping my head down and my steps light. No one stopped me. No one called my name. With all the chatter at the campfire, it was easy to vanish. Still, I moved like I was being hunted – ducking into shadows, keeping to the edges of the path.

I didn't want company.

I just needed to see where everything happened.

The hill still bore the scars of the attack – earth torn and blackened where the Hydra had fallen. Rain had washed away most of the blood, but the scent of battle still clung to the air, sharp and metallic, like a memory that refused to fade.

I found the place where Silas had fallen.

There was no body. No golden dust. No twisted horn or snapped reed pipe. Just an empty patch of dead grass where he'd made his last stand.

Well – almost empty.

A single bush bloomed against the arid ground, vibrant and defiant. A hydrangea, if I remembered right. The petals were a bold, impossible blue, soft and glowing in the dying light. It didn't belong here. Not really. And yet… somehow, it was perfect.

I dropped to my knees, the ground damp and cool beneath me. My fingers brushed a blossom – so delicate, it felt like it might melt under my touch. It shimmered faintly, like it had caught a bit of the sun and refused to let go.

"Hey, Silas," I said, my voice low. "I made it. Thanks to you."

The wind stirred the leaves gently.

"I wish I could've known you better," I murmured. "You were a good… a good friend. I- I'll never forget what you did for me."

My throat tightened. I closed my eyes.

"I wish I could've saved you…"

The hydrangea swayed again, rustling softly. Maybe it was the wind. Or maybe… maybe not.

I stood on unsteady legs and turned toward the top of the hill.

Thalia's pine stood tall and proud, its needles glittering faintly in the twilight. The bark was still splintered where I'd slammed into it.

She deserved the same respect as Silas. Ignoring her would be such a disservice. She deserved better.

"Thalia," I said quietly, but firmly. "I don't know if you can hear me, I'm still not sure how this would even work. But… thank you. For protecting me. I owe you my life."

I didn't expect an answer.

"You know, most people just look at the tree. They don't talk to it."

I did not scream. And I definitely didn't jump a foot in the air.

Anyone who says otherwise is lying through their teeth.

Heart hammering, I spun around, hand flying to my wristband.

Standing a few feet away was a small girl with wild blonde curls and stormy grey eyes. She looked maybe two years younger than me yet carried herself like someone who'd already seen too much to care. I recognised her immediately.

Dagger Girl.

"Jesus H. Christ," I hissed, clutching my chest. "Were you trying to kill me?!"

"Sorry," she said in a not-sorry-at-all voice. "You weren't exactly subtle sneaking off."

I narrowed my eyes. "You were following me?"

"Technically, I was… observing." She stepped closer. "Annabeth Chase."

"Theo West."

Jeez, I'm starting to sound like a broken record. I might as well stick a nametag on my chest; it would certainly save a lot of introductions.

Her grey eyes studied me, sharp and calculating, like she was trying to solve a puzzle and didn't like how the pieces were fitting. It was unnerving – mostly because I recognised the look. I'd seen it in the mirror enough times to know I didn't enjoy being on the receiving end.

Honestly, looking at her gave me a strange feeling in my gut, almost like I was staring at a warped reflection – one that looked way more confident and seriously unimpressed with me.

"You're the one who took down the Hydra."

"I didn't 'take down' anything," I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Silas did, with some kind of… green firebomb. I just happened to be there."

A flicker of something crossed her face. Respect, maybe? Surprise at my admission?

"Still," she said, her tone softening just a touch. "Not many campers would've survived an encounter with a Hydra. Especially untrained."

I scoffed bitterly. "Yeah. Sure."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"You can pretend it's luck if you want," she said as she moved closer. "But you survived a monster that even Heracles needed help to kill. Monsters like that… don't waste their time on nobodies."

"Look, Annabeth, wasn't it?" She nodded once. "I don't know what you're trying to get at, but I'm nothing special, alright? That Hydra wasn't following me because of some scent, it was just sent after me because–"

"Sent after you?" she repeated sharply.

Crap. Me and my big mouth. Deny, deny, deny!

"Uhhhhh… no?"

Smooth. Real smooth. Might as well have tattooed I'm Lying across my forehead in neon letters. There's no way in Hell she's buying that – unless she's spontaneously developed a head injury.

Annabeth gave me a look that screamed, Seriously? That's what you're going with?

And to be honest, I deserve that.

Annabeth didn't press the question. She just stood there, arms crossed, studying me like she was mentally assembling a murder board, and I'd just landed dead centre with a thumbtack through my head.

The silence stretched so long I started wondering if I'd broken her. Or maybe she was just trying to make me sweat. Mission accomplished, Chase.

Finally, she spoke.

"You know, I could call you out on that," she said casually, almost like it didn't matter. "But I won't."

I blinked. "You won't?"

She shrugged. "Not yet anyway. But Athena kids don't quit. We don't rest until we've solved the puzzle." Her eyes locked onto mine. "And you, Theo West… you're one Hades-sized puzzle."

I swallowed. Somehow, she was way more terrifying than she had any right to be.

She turned, her curls bouncing slightly with the movement, and started heading back up the hill. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, only for her to pause just shy of Thalia's pine.

Her hand brushed against the bark – barely a touch – but it wasn't casual. The moment lingered, her fingers resting against the splintered trunk like she was anchoring herself to something far away.

"You know," she said quietly, without turning around. "Thalia would've liked you."

My throat tightened. I didn't know what to say to that.

Annabeth gave the tree one last, almost reluctant pat, then straightened and glanced back at me over her shoulder.

"I'll be watching you, West."

And just like that, she walked off into the sunset, leaving me alone as the sky began to darken.

I didn't get any sleep.

It wasn't that Hermes cabin wasn't cosy.

Oh, who am I kidding? The regular bunks might've been cosy, but my so-called "bunk" was a single sleeping bag on a hardwood floor, parked right next to a kid who snored like a chainsaw cutting through gravel.

Sorry, Eli – but if you don't shut up soon, I might have to smother you with a pillow. No hard feelings.

All jokes aside, it wasn't the snoring that kept me awake. It was the thinking.

I hadn't managed to get an Iris message out before the sun went down, and now I was stuck stewing over what I'd say to Mum and Dad come morning. I'd already mapped out a basic outline – yeah, I know, peak nerd status – but I wanted to get it right. Sue me.

Even so, the little voice in the back of my head wouldn't shut up.

They chose her.

They left you.

I rolled onto my side, yanking the sleeping bag over my head like that could muffle the thought. No luck. My brain was louder than Eli's snoring and twice as annoying.

If only I had a magic "Dear Mum and Dad" scroll lying around to spill my guts onto – classic spelling disasters and all. But Iris messages were the only sure way.

Too bad it was past midnight.

Rainbows don't exactly grow on trees at night. I needed light, water, and-

I sat bolt upright, immediately smacking my head on the underside of Luke's bunk.

OW!

Where was I? Oh, right…

Light. Water. Rainbows didn't need the sun, just the right angle. (And with that, I officially surrendered any chance of proving I'm not a total nerd.)

Camp had flashlights – the camp store probably had hordes of them. And water – well, the lake wasn't going anywhere. And for the rainbow... I just needed something to aim the light at.

Paper.

My brain clicked into gear, piecing together a plan like I was starring in one of those old-school heist movies. I slid out of my sleeping bag and crept toward the cabin door, quiet as a shadow. My cabinmates snored on, blissfully unaware I was about to commit grand theft stationery.

The flashlight was the easy part. The camp store wasn't exactly Fort Knox – someone had left a window cracked open. I squeezed through (okay, I got stuck halfway and tumbled the rest of the way in), grabbed the smallest flashlight I could find – one of those cheap ones that barely lit up your shoes – and slipped back out.

One down.

Next: the kitchen. I retraced the path the cleaning harpies (yeah, that had been a shock and a half) had taken after dinner and found a set of stairs leading underground.

The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The place was empty – but the "sinks" glowed faintly – stone basins filled with actual, honest-to-gods lava still simmering from the evening's clean-up.

Weirdly, the fact that Camp Half-Blood used molten rock for washing dishes didn't surprise me as much as it probably should've.

I picked my way through the counters until I found a glass on the cooling rack, still warm from its volcanic rinse. I snatched it up and slipped out before the lava got any funny ideas.

Two down.

Last stop: paper.

The arts-and-crafts centre didn't even bother locking its supply drawers. Makes sense – who's desperate enough to steal paper? Still, knowing the Athena kids probably stashed booby traps in their favourite haunt, I kept my hands light and fast. I snagged a blank sheet, a little bent at the corners but good enough, and bolted before my luck ran dry.

Three down.

Armed with my loot, I made my way to the lake. The moon hung high overhead, turning the water's surface into black glass. I crouched at the edge, dipped the glass into the cold water, and watched as ripples spread across the surface.

Something stirred.

A naiad drifted up from the depths, her hair like tangled moss, sea-green eyes narrowed in a scowl sharp enough to crack stone. She didn't speak – just hovered there, glaring at me like I'd committed some unspeakable crime.

I winced and lifted the glass in a peace-offering kind of way.

"Emergency call," I whispered. "Sorry."

She didn't blink, didn't break eye contact, just swam away, her glare lingering like she wanted to make sure I knew I was on thin ice.

Weird.

But I had everything I needed.

I found a low, bare-branched tree and pressed the paper flat against the trunk, using a smear of sticky sap to hold it in place. Then I set the glass on a nearby rock, flipped on the flashlight, and started the trial-and-error dance of aiming the beam through the water, adjusting the angle by millimetres.

Too high. Too low. Nothing. Not even a faint glimmer.

I gritted my teeth, shifting the angle in microscopic adjustments until – finally – a thin strip of rainbow arched across the paper like a magician's trick.

I stared, almost afraid to blink.

Then I pulled the drachma from my pocket, my thumb brushing the worn metal.

Here goes nothing.

I tossed the coin into the rainbow.

"O goddess, please accept my offering."

The drachma vanished mid-air, swallowed by the light.

It worked.

It actually worked.

A surprised laugh slipped out before I clamped my hand over my mouth, remembering half the camp was still dead asleep. I straightened up and locked my eyes on the rainbow, heart pounding.

"Sera and Damian West," I said.

The rainbow shimmered.

Nothing.

I frowned. This time I raised my voice.

"Sera and Damian West."

The colours warped and flickered like a dying lightbulb. I leaned in, breath held, waiting for their faces to appear.

Instead, the drachma flipped back into existence, landing at my feet with a soft clink.

And then a voice – smooth and faintly amused – echoed from the fading rainbow, like a celestial voicemail:

"Sorry, the person you have tried to reach is unavailable."

I stared down at the coin, then at the empty air.

Wait.

WHAT?!

Author Note: Ay, it only took three chapters for Theo to not be unconscious at the end of a chapter. Well done, Theo!

I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter. I've dropped a few hints so far as to who Theo's godly parent is... and I'd like to hear your guesses or theories in the comments. Have at it, and as always I'll see you in the next chapter.