Destiny's Child

PERCY

I had weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food.
I must've woken up several times, but what I heard and saw made no sense, so I just passed out again. I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovered over me, smirking as she scraped drips off my chin with the spoon.
When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"
I managed to croak, "What?"
She looked around, as if afraid someone would over-hear. "What's going on? What was stolen?”
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I don't..."
Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled my mouth with pudding.
The next time I woke up, the girl was gone.
A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He had blue eyes- at least a dozen of them-on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.
When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings except all around me looked like medieval hospital in war crisis zone. The whole room was made up of stone and wooden planks. The windows looked bigger and have drape curtains. I remember seeing them in my school history book.
Holy God! Am I in heaven? I have died maybe. But there should be angels or ghost nurses to serve you, to nurse you. May be its off hours. What time is it? Is there any clock in heaven or time remains a constant figure?
Weird thoughts came over me. I looked around to find glass full of blue liquid kept at one side. I was thirsty as if someone has scratched my throat with sand paper.
I tried to sit down but my back started paining again.Goddammit, I felt like I was run over by tank.
“Careful your back is still injured and will take time.”
I looked around to find a boy of my age with curly hair and a goatee that he grew recently. His eyes are big. He wore tight black colour vest that showed not so good not so bad physique. He wore wait instead of pants and normal legs he’s gotta goat legs. I rubbed my eyed to look carefully whether I am dreaming or not. His face resembled my friend Grover at Yancy who brought me here yesterday telling me they had vacations and all sorts of fun stuff.
I felt my mind is gone and I am perfectly in mental asylum. Who can see a half goat half boy kind of stuff or species in broad day light?
“Are you ok?”asked Grover.
“Yeah beyond repair.”I groaned.”Are you a zombie and am I in some tooth fairy land.”I enquired.
“Very funny. “Grover laughed at what I said.
“Let me help you get up and oh take this drink. “Grover added.
He helped me stand up. I took the blue liquid as he said. It was warm sweet. I could not explain the taste but it felt I have took this before. I have weird sensation that this is not the first time I drank this blue liquid.
“Are you ok?” Grover enquired.
“Yeah, never mind.”I added.
I walked with him outside the so called medieval building and the outside view surprised me. I felt like I have been thrown in some different time zones set up like those movies “Back to future” kind off.

The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture-an open-air pavilion, an amphitheatre, a circular arena-except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods.
Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoon-fed me popcorn-flavoured pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them.
We walked towards them.
The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels- what do you call them, hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger pattern-Hawaiian T –shirt.
"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth
Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron...."
He pointed at the guy whose back was to me.
First, I realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.
“Mr Brunner! What are you doing here?” I cried out.

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."
He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh.
"Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."
"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl.
She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy.
Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."
Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."
She was probably my age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.
"You drool when you sleep."
Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.
"You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?" I asked.
"Not Mr. Brunner," the ex-Mr. Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."
"Okay." Totally confused, I looked at the director. "And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?"
Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at me like I'd just belched loudly. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I must say, Percy," Chiron-Brunner broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."
"House call?"
I tried to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but I did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher my first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr. Brunner had taken the class.
"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" I asked. He nodded.
"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be
Sufficient."
"Orientation film?" I asked.
"No," Chiron decided. "Well, Percy. You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either, lad. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods-the forces you call the Greek gods-are very much alive."
I stared at the others around the table.
"Wait," I told Chiron. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."
"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavours: the
immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."
"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."
"Zeus," I said. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."
And there it was again-distant thunder on cloud-fewer days.
"Young man," said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."
"But they're stories," I said. "They're-myths.
"Percy," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal.
Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

I was about to answer, off the top of my head, that it sounded like a pretty good deal, but the tone of
Chiron's voice made me hesitate.
"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," I said.
"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that some-day people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"
My heart pounded. He was trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him. I said, "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods."
"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."
I wasn't liking Mr. D much, but there was something about the way he called me mortal, as if... he
wasn't. It was enough to put a lump in my throat, to suggest why Grover was dutifully minding his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut.
“What’s your problem? First of all you take my friend as a servant of yours. Do you know child labour is a crime?” I snapped at him distastefully.
He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him, Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a strait-jacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.
"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly.
But something inside me told me not to stop and then something happened which also took me by surprise. I felt a surge at gut and the next time I knew Mr. was holding his head in hand and withering in pain.
Chiron and Grover both were taken aback by the certain turn of events. Never in their life had they seen something like this.
Grover ran towards me and jerked me “Percy.”
I came back to senses and that something inside me eased out.
Mr. D looked coming back to senses. He looked at me with distaste but I saw something in his eyes, fear.
“I need to consult my father about something, I remember.”He stammered and left with a smell of wine in the air.
“Whoa how do you do that?”Grover asked me.
Ï don’t know.
“Percy theirs more to you than I expected .Your power over weapons, manipulating mist and weather, not to mention your incredible strength .After all no one can take Minotaur single headedly any day and that too with bare hands and of course your fire powers and now this…”Chiron added.
“I did this all?”I was surprised. All I remember I was fighting some monsters and then the kick in my back when I toppled at a tree and then something inside me snapped open .Like some hidden doors of my memory opened. And the next thing I remember I was in that medieval building.
“What are you thinking? Percy “Chiron looked at me.
“Nothing it’s just I don’t remember fighting any bull man and fire. “
Who ... who am I Chiron?
"Who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be sophomores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."
“Come let’s take you to your cabin.”Chiron added.
We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to me. Another said, "That's him."
Most of the campers were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I wasn't normally shy, but the way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something.
I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realized-four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.
"What's up there?" I asked Chiron.
He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic."
"Somebody lives there?"
"No," he said with finality. "Not a single living thing."
I got the feeling he was being truthful.
As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans. Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."
"Stocked with what?" I asked. "Armed with what?"
"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"
"My own-?"
"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do. I'll visit the armoury later."
I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armoury, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, and the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.
"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."
Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea.
There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.
Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dot-ted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops.
The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.
"Zeus and Hera?" I guessed.
"Correct," Chiron said.
And then something happened. Out of the cabin one came a girl. I was in awe. She was having the same black hair like me but cut short and spiked in a unruly manner. She has sharp features .She was athletic but the most intimidating were her eyes .They were electric blue. You can almost get electrocuted and yet stay alive looking into those eyes.
I didn’t know I was staring at her until I Chiron from my side cleared his throat.
“Ohh!”the only word I can say hiding my embarrassment as if nothing occurred. The girl also looked quite embarrassed the way I looked at her. If I am not wrong I saw her blush. But her eyes gave away the fact.
“Percy this is Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Thalia this Percy.”Chiron said from beside me.
(Percy Aside)Way to go man the next time you look remember you will be electrocuted .Stay away if you want live through this times.
“Hello.”I said extending my hand for a handshake.
“Thalia can you help Percy look around to cabin eleven. I have gotta go to archery lessons.”Chiron said before walking away.
We stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.
I peeked inside the open doorway and Thalia said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"
Before she could pull me back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place was so homely as if it was designed for me.
WHY I DON’T KNOW THE FIRST TIME EVER I FELT AT BEING IN HOME.
I was glad when Thalia put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy. What happened?"
“Nothing just a feeling. Déjà vu.”I said looking at the cabin.
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
Number five was bright red-a real nasty paint job, as if the colour had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen.
The blond girl I'd met at the Big House was standing in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled.
"Make yourself at home." Thalia said from beside me smiling at Annabeth.
Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it...? A caduceus.
Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds.
Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation centre.
Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven. "Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked. I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."
Everybody groaned.
A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."
The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cut-offs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colour clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.
"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn both Thalia and Annabeth was blushing.
I felt a pang when I saw Thalia blushing at the surfer dude. Why in hell she has to smile at him? And above all why I have got this kind of feelings coming from.
She saw me looking and her expression changed again. "He's your counsellor for now." "For now?" I asked.
"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travellers."
“I see.”I added
“Get yourself comfortable and we will meet at dinner.” Luke said patting my back and then the three went away towards the door.