Chapter Text
“ Pasiphae’s son,” Percy says disbelievingly. “ The Min–”
“ No names,” Sally shushes. “ I had no clue– you’re still a child. Why send him after a child?”
“ To get out of child support,” Percy says off-handedly. The border is still far away, a hundred or so yards, uphill. The grass up to their knees. ‘ They really need a lawn mower,’ Percy thinks. He looks behind them to see the Minotaur sniffing around the car.
“ Food?” Grover moans.
“Shh,” Percy whispers. “ It’s messing with the car, can’t it tell we're not in there anymore?”
“ He goes by scent,” Sally says, fifty meters from the barrier. “ He’ll figure it out soon enough, the rain can only cover so much–” the terror hollers in fury. Tearing off the door, throwing it away.
Temper, temper.
But that's not enough for the Minotaur. He picks the car up, far above his head, and throws it into the trees. Bouncing off them, onto the asphalt, scraping down the road, sparking before it explodes.
‘ Not a scratch,’ Gabe had said.
Oops.
“ Percy,” Sally says, having him turn back around. “ Once he sees us, he’ll charge. Wait, as long as you can, then dodge– like the people at the rodeos do. He can’t change direction well.”
“ How do you know all this?” Percy asks, Just twenty-five yards to go.
“ I’ve been reading up, just in case– though with him,” her head indicates to the eight-foot steak behind them, “ his abilities coincide with his mortal counterparts.”
“ So you could read up on stuff, but I couldn’t?” Percy asks, upset.
“ Not the time, baby,” Sally says.
The Minotaur roars again and runs up the hill, smelling them out. They’re only a few yards away from the big tree, but the ground is getting steeper and slicker– Grover’s not getting any lighter. The Minotaur is closing in on them–
“ Run Percy,” Sally hollers, taking Grover, gaining the bull's attention. “ Remember what I said.”
Percy hesitates, giving the Minotaur time to catch up. He dodges a clawed hand and sprints to the left, “Come on! You can’t catch me!” The terror follows him, away from Sally and Grover. ‘ Go. Get them over the line,” he pleads to whatever is listening. The minotaur is right on his tail, its eyes blazing with hatred, smelling of rotting meat and neglected barnyard. Percy's eyes widen as the terror lowers, and charges– its razor-sharp horns lining up with his ribs. Percy's mind races with possibilities– straight, equals skewered, like a body on a pike, right– captured and eating– he stops, turns around, and holds his ground. The Minotaur races towards him like a bullet train–
Percy jumps up, using its horns as a step stool, onto his back, then leaps off the side, running towards the camp.
The Minotaur yells in frustration and turns towards the easier targets: Sally and Grover.
“ Mom! Watch out!” Percy screams. They’re so close, at the crest of the hill. There’s a valley down there, multiple buildings, but it’s too far.
Sally sets Grover down, putting herself between them. Once he’s locked onto her, she starts down the hill, trying to lead it away. All the running, the back and forth, it's exhausting. The Minotaur growls, hooves digging into the earth. “ Go, Percy! I can’t– save yourself!”
Percy rushes over, watching as the Minotaur charges. Sally tries to sidestep, but it's not enough– the terror is just so big– its hand grabs her neck. Sally kicks and screams as it squeezes.
“ Mama!”
Sally catches his eye, and chokes out, “ love y–” before the terror squeezes the life out of her. Her body goes limp and melts into a shimmering golden light, fading, then simply gone.
Percy feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. She’s gone, his mom’s gone. Her body is gone. She’s not dead– she’s not. He takes a shuddering breath and goes forward. The earth trembles with each step. The world’s not so dark anymore; if anything, the lighting is just right.
The minotaur staggers back up the hill, sniffing Grover, pawing at him. Inspecting his next meal–
Percy’s not gonna allow that.
He takes out his dagger and slides off his jacket. It's not red, but it’ll have to do. “ Hey,” he yells, waving the jacket, sticking to one side of the terror, “ meathead, tenderloin!” It swings its big head around and below. Percy turns his back towards the tree and shakes his jacket, goading it forward.
It takes the bait.
The Minotaur rushes forward, arms out in front of him.
Percy drops the jacket, sliding under it, slashing the back of its ankle. Golden flakes start falling out. The terror roars as Percy climbs onto it, stabbing into it, creating anchor points, till he’s seated on its neck. It tries to shake him off, hitting himself against the tree, but Percy holds on by the horns. It’s hard. The rain– the storm– is making everything slick.
The Minotaur starts bucking, unable to shake Percy loose. ‘ Why doesn’t it just fall back and squish me?’ he wonders.
“ Food?” Grover whines, regaining the terrors attention.
It paws at the ground again, taking Percy with it. He tries to stop it, yanking on its horns, forcing its head back, then grabs the one towards the camp with both hands and pulls. ‘ If you’re taking us, you’re going with us,’ Percy thinks. He feels the Minotaur tense, trying to stop them from going over. It grunts, then– snap.
It screams and flings Percy off into the grass– him going one way, his dagger the other. He gets back up, horn still in hand. Percy inspects it, ‘ not bad– ragged bone… better than nothing.’
The terror charges, and without thinking, Percy rolls to the side, pops back up, and rams it into its rib cage. The Minotaur cries out in agony. Flailing around, grabbing its chest– but this time, it was enough. Golden sand spews out as it disintegrates, blown around by the wind.
The terror is gone.
The rain lightens to a sprinkle, but the sky continues to rumble—a warning. There's more to come. He grabs his dagger, tremors ending as he puts it back in its sheath. The world becomes dark, once again, as he picks up Grover and continues down the hill. “ Help,” he hollers as they reach a big white house, setting Grover on the steps. “ Help, please,” legs giving out on their porch, spots entering his vision.
A blonde girl opens the door, princess curls around her face, “ it’s him, he’s the one–”
“ Silence, Annabeth…still….. Inside…” a deep voice says as Percy’s world fades to black.
✴❀✿❅✿❀✴
Percy’s dreams drift.
Like the tide.
In and out of consciousness, giving him the craziest dreams. At first, he’s a farmer on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. He’s hiding from them– the livestock. He’s trapped with the cows, in the back of a barn. It’s filthy in there. The bulls want in. The sheep are coming– hunks of goat stuck in their teeth. Then, he’s in the sky, endlessly falling, burning, reaching for the sea. Falling into the clouds– memories– the fight at the museum, Sally dissolving into light, giant golden eyes. Just watching– before waking up in an unknown bed. It’s soft. Above him is the blonde girl, Annabeth, force feeding him some kinda pudding, it tastes like popcorn.
She notices he’s awake and asks, “What’s happening on the solstice?”
Percy just blinks at her.
Annabeth looks around, making sure they’re alone, and demands, “What’s going on? What was stolen? Do you have it– we’ve only got a few weeks!”
A blond guy, more golden than Annabeth, comes in scowling, “ out.”
She turns around, “ but Chiron said–”
“ Out,” he demands, taking the pudding from her. “ You woke him up. Out of my infirmary.”
“ I’m sorry.”
“ No, you aren’t,” he says, pushing her out the door. He sighs, looks Percy over, “ get some sleep,” and leaves the room.
The next time Percy wakes up, he’s really sore, aching all over, and he doesn’t want to move. He notices a husky blond man in the corner. ‘ What’s with all the blonds?’ Percy can’t help but wonder. Though he’s different from the others, for one, he’s an adult, second, he’s covered in eyes– all of them blue– on his cheeks, forehead, and back of his hands. ‘ Are they all… over him?’ He wonders as he once again fades from consciousness.
When he wakes up for the last time, he can move. Percy’s not sure how long it’s been, but he doesn’t think it has been long. There’s a blanket over his legs, and the air smells like strawberries. His mouth feels dry, like a scorpion’s nest. He carefully sits up and looks out a window, to see a green, flourishing meadow. It’s beautiful.
It doesn’t deserve to be beautiful.
He looks away.
It looks away. There’s a nightstand next to him, with a drink on it. It’s in a red solo cup, with a green bendy straw, a tiny blue umbrella, and a cherry stabbed onto the end. Percy grabs it, hands shaky.
“ Careful,” says a familiar voice, lingering in the doorway.’’
It’s Grover.
He looks rough, like he hasn’t slept in a week. He’s wearing an orange t-shirt, ‘ Camp Half-Blood’ printed on it, jeans, and red high-top Converse. Holding a shoe box. “ You saved my life,” Grover says, coming into the room and pulling up a chair. “ I… well.. I went back and grabbed what I could find. I thought you’d like to keep this.” He reverently places the box in Percy's lap.
Percy opens it– the Minotaur’s horn. He eyes the tip, covered in dry blood, ‘ where’d that come from?’ The terrors don’t have blood, and he’s pretty sure he didn’t get his on it. “ It didn’t disintegrate? His horn? The Minotaur’s gonna be pissed. He’s all lopsided now.”
“ Um, Percy, that’s not a good idea–”
“ But he’s gone, for now anyway,” Percy says, putting the horn back in the box. “ How long have I been out?”
“ Two days.”
“ Two days!” Percy exclaims, drink sloshing, spilling a bit of it.
“ Woah, be careful,” Grover says, helping to steady his hands, sniffling. “ I’m so sorry about your mom. I’m a failure– the worst satyr in the world.” He puts the cup back on the nightstand and gets up. Tripping out of his shoes, chipping his styrofoam insert. “ Oh, Styx.”
Thunder booms.
Grover tries to shove his hoof back in, but the insert is too messed up. Percy sighs, “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“I–I didn’t wanna push you. I know this is a lot–”
“ I’ve just spent the last nine-ish months waking up to your horns sticking out of your hair,” Percy says monotone, “ your hooves aren’t a big deal. I’ve seen them before. This… this isn’t your fault.”
“ Yes, it is. I was supposed to protect you .”
“ Did I or my mom ever ask you to?”
“ Well, no–”
“ Then it's not your fault. Just the Minotaur’s.” Percy says, not wanting to dwell on it. He knows she’s alive. He can feel it.
He can’t tell Grover that, though. Sally’s been taken by an unknown—an unknown to Percy . Grover might know them– tip them off. Despite his best efforts, Grover can’t act, or lie, to save his life. The fewer people who know the truth, the better.
“ It doesn’t work like that, Percy,” Grover runs a hand through his hair. “ I’m a keeper– or at least I was. You were my charge. You were never supposed to get hurt.”
“ I–” Percy squeezes his eyes shut, dizzy, mind swimming.
“ Don’t strain yourself,” Grover says, grabbing the cup and putting the straw to Percy’s lip.
He gags a bit– not because it tastes bad– but because it tastes like his mom’s chocolate chip cookies– her blue chocolate chip cookies, buttery, hot, the chips still melting. With each gulp, Percy surges with energy. Before he knows it, he’s drunk it all.
“ Was it good?” Grover asks. “ What did it taste like?”
“ Yeah,” Percy says. “ Not what I expected… like mom's cookies. Sorry, I should have offered.”
Grovers' eyes go wide, “ No! That’s not what I meant. That stuff, nectar, tastes different to everyone, so I was just–”
“ It’s fine, G-man,” Percy waves him off. “ It was really good. Do you think I could get some more? I’m still, like, really thirsty.”
Grover takes the cup away, quickly, “Yeah, let's not. If you're feeling up to it, there's someone who wants to speak with you.”
“ Uh,” Percy swings his legs around, “ sure. Would you mind?”
Grover helps him up, grabs the shoe box, and leads Percy out. They pass through an empty infirmary and exit into the camp. “ Watch your step, the ground's not even.” They're on the North Shore of Long Island Sound, the valley meeting the water, the landscape peppered with buildings. Cabins, open-air pavilion, amphitheater, an arena–All looking straight out of a History book, white marble shining in the sun. “There's a lot to do here,” Grover says, pointing at a group of high school-aged kids. “Over there is the volleyball court, the lake next to it we use for canoeing, the archery range is by the woods, a bit before the cabins.”
Percy can't help but notice they're all in Orange shirts. He thinks, ‘Please, don't let this be like a gang thing.’ He's seen other groups with silver jackets and others in purple. He really doesn't want to fight them. He's seen a lot of purple shirt people–they'd be creamed. “Grover, what's with all the orange?”
“ Camp shirt,” he pulls at the collar, “ everybody gets them. You don’t have to wear it, but most do.”
‘ So it is like a gang thing,’ Percy sighs internally as they approach a big white house with a wrap-around deck. Over in the corner is a table with two men playing cards. Annabeth was leaning on the rail next to them. The one facing them catches Percy’s eye.
He's small, has a dad-bod, with a bit of a beer belly, a sunburnt nose, curly black hair, purple eyes, and a clear complexion. Like one of those cherub paintings aged 40 years, picked up by a hippie and painted over, dressed in tiger and Hawaiian print. He wouldn't look out of place at one of Gabe's poker parties– if I weren't for the glitching.
Overlying the man as a younger one, fit, draped in animal skins, a wreath on his head. Full of power.
Power the other version does not.
Grover catches him staring, “ that's Mr.D he's the camp director– be on your best behavior. The girl over there, that's Annabeth. She's about your age, and one of the senior campers, and of course, you know Chiron,” he says, pointing to a man's back.
It's only then that Percy realizes that the chair is a wheelchair. He’d recognize that tweed jacket and thinning hair anywhere. “ Mr. Brunner?”
‘Brunner’ turns around smiling. Eyes holding that same mischievous glint he’d get when making all the answers on a test, C. “ It’s good to see you up. Come join us, we need four for Pinochle,” he says, pulling up a chair.
Percy sits.
Mr. D looks at him with bloodshot eyes. “ You’re… interesting. To say the least. Well, let's get on with it then, welcome to Camp Halfblood. Don’t expect anyone to be glad to see you.”
Percy flinches and scoots away, “Uh, thanks.”
Mr.D’s breath? Reeks of alcohol.
“ Annabeth?” ‘Brunner’ calls, and she comes forward. “ This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don’t you inform cabin eleven of their new bunkmate?”
‘ Bull shit’ Percy thinks, remembering how she got kicked out of the infirmary.
“ Sure, Chiron,” she says, then glances at the shoebox in Grover’s hand and back to Percy. “ You drool in your sleep,” then sprints down the lawn, her blonde hair flying behind her.
Annabeth is different from what Percy expected. Colder. It could be because she doesn’t know him, but he doesn’t get that impression. “ So…” Percy says, watching her go. “ Mr. Brunner–”
“ Not Mr. Brunner,” he corrects, “ just a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron.”
“ Okay," Percy says, unsure. That name, he couldn’t be– “ Like the trainer from the myths?”
“ Exactly, you catch on fast, Percy,” Chiron says, smiling, shuffling the cards.
“ Thanks,” Percy says, “ and would I be correct that ‘Mr.D’ stands for something important?”
Mr.D takes a sip of his drink, “Names have power, boy. You don’t just go around using them for no reason.”
“ My mom said that too,” Percy nods, “ it’s why I go by Percy.”
“ Smart,” Mr. D nods, “ but unnecessary at this point.”
“ I’m glad you didn’t end up being a complete waste of time,” Chiron says, passing out cards.
‘ Excuse me?” Percy sputters.
“ It’s been a while since I’ve made a house call,” Chiron says, chuckling.
Percy can’t believe the audacity, “ house call?”
“ Our time at Yancy– we send satyrs to various schools, to be on the lookout for potential… talent. Grover told us about you right away, so I decided to come upstate. I must admit, I thought he was overreacting. I convinced the other teacher to… take a leave of absence. We had contacted your mother and found out what each of you knew. She insisted you weren’t ready for camp, didn’t need it, but I wanted to make my own assessment. Though, based on your reaction, I missed something. Regardless, you made it here safe, that’s always the first test.”
Percy's mind races to the beginning of the school year. He remembers the other teacher leaving quickly. He didn’t see anything happen to them, unlike the old algebra teacher, but he doubts their exit was normal. His mom said nothing about being in contact with them, even when he was freaking out about ‘Brunner.’
“ Grover,” Mr.D asks, annoyed, “ are you going to play or not?”
“ Yes, sir,” Grover rushes to the other chair, trembling.
Mr.D turns to Percy, “And do you know how to play?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. What kind of game is it?”
“One of the greats!” Mr. D exclaims theatrically. “Up there with gladiator fights, Pac-Man, Mario Kart– sometimes I can't believe they were made by humans. I expect all my campers to know the rules.”
“ He can learn,” Chiron tries to placate him.
“I'm sorry– but I just don't understand,” Percy says. “What exactly is Camp Half blood? I know I'm not normal, I know everyone here isn't normal, but what's the point of this place? I'm at a table with a satyr, a horse man– if you were serious about being the actual Chiron– and a deity.” Percy says, “ I've seen an arena, and a volleyball court– why am I here?”
Chiron smiles sympathetically, “Percy, what exactly did your mother tell you?”
Percy looks away from him, “She said it's a place my father wanted to send me, but she didn't want me to go. She was… considering dropping me off for the summer. Only for the summer. She wanted to keep me close to her.”
“ Typical,” Mr.D huffs, “ that’s how most of you get killed. Mortals thinking they know best. Are you bidding or not?”
“ Hold on,” Chiron interjects. “ Percy, what else did she say? What else do you know?”
“ Nothing.”
“ I highly doubt that,” Chiron says, crossing his arms. “You knew Grover was a satyr, accepted what Mr.D and I are–”
“Cause I'm not stupid,” Percy cuts him off. “I've always seen things others haven't, and I asked questions. Mama couldn't keep up the lies. I’m a demi-god; my dad is a god. Stands to reason that the rest is true too. She said not to look into it, no Disney's Hercules, no mythology unless it was for school, not that I always followed that. Look, all I know is the basics, that's it. I knew you, Grover, and Dodds were different– I could just tell, but I didn’t know who you were or what you wanted with me. Grover, I figured out early on. He couldn’t always hide the hooves, but you and Dodds? Two teachers being replaced in the same year? Suspicious. After she attacked me, all I could wonder was if you'd be next. You, Chiron, have lost my trust. I asked about Dodds afterwards, to make sure I hadn't suddenly gone crazy, and you lied to me, instead of being honest. You could have come clean to me once we were back at Yancy,” he turns to Grover, “ either of you. But you didn't. Grover's lost some of my trust, but unlike you, he still has my respect.”
“ Woah,” Grover says, “ Percy–”
“ It is fine, Mr. Underwood,” Chiron says weakly. “Everyone is entitled to their own emotions. I am sorry our actions came off that way, my boy, but hopefully things can brighten themselves in time.”
Percy huffs, “ doubtful.”
Mr. D clears his throat. “Who's betting?”
“How do you do it?” Percy asks, trying to change the conversation. Mr D shows him, and they carry on.
“...There's still so much to tell you,” Kyron says, bidding as well. “ I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't suffice.”
“Orientation film?” Percy asks, making a face. ‘How many demigods are there for you to make one of those?!’
“ No,” Chiron decides, “ well, you know monsters exist, killing the Minotaur is no small feat, beings of nature like Grover as well, but you may not realize the great powers present in your life. The gods-the Greek ones–are very much alive, here in the states.”
‘ Nice slip up,’ Percy thinks, but decides to cause some chaos, “ Just the Greek ones? What about the Romans, Etruscans, Aztecs–”
Chiron flounders, apparently not used to being questioned, “All I can speak on is our pantheon.”
“ Ooh,” Mr. D exclaims, cackling as he adds up his points, “ a royal marriage!”
“ Sir, if you’re not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?” Grover asks hesitantly.
“ Eh, go for it,” Mr. D waves him off.
Grover takes it, taking a huge bite out of it—pure aluminum.
Percy can't imagine how bad that must taste. But to each their own. “What about God, as in capital G, God. Mr. Big Man upstairs?”
“Well now,” Chiron clears his throat, “That's different. We don't deal with the metaphysical.”
“ Metaphysical, but we were just–”
“ Talking about gods, plural as in the forces embodying the world around us. Ones that control the forces of nature and reflect humanity– we are not almighty. We may be immortal, but we are limited,” Mr. D says, for once sounding serious.
“Isn't that tiring? Don't you all get burnt out?” Percy asks, unable to comprehend what that kind of existence truly means. “If you've been around for so long…”
“Percy, you can choose to believe it or not,” Chiron says, “ but immortal means immortal. Never dying, existing as you are, for all time.”
“But… What about gods of stuff that doesn't exist anymore? If there's nothing for them to mirror, emulate?” Percy asks.
“Enough, Mr. Jackson,” Chiron says harshly.
“Before one of us decides to incinerate you,” Mr D mumbles.
“ Please, sir,” Grover says, trying to smooth things over. “ He’s just lost his mother, he’s still in shock, coming to terms with everything.”
“ A lucky thing for him, too,” Mr.D grumbles, playing a card. “ Or we wouldn’t be so lenient.” He waves his hand, and a goblet of wine appears on the table, followed by a rumble of thunder.
Percy’s jaw drops as Chiron admonishes him, “Your restrictions!”
Mr. D rolls his eyes at the reminder, “Oh, you tattle-tale.” It thunders again. “ Oh fine.” he looks towards the sky, “old habit, sorry!” Changing the drink back to a can of Diet Coke, sighing unhappily.
Chiron winks at Percy, “ he upset his father a while back. They both took a liking to a wood nymph, and his father declared the nymph off limits.”
“ A wood nymph,” Percy repeats and thinks, ‘ I’m like 95% sure you’re who I think you are, and last I checked, you were married– both of you. Your poor wives.’
“ Oh, yes, how my father loves to punish me. First prohibition– such a long decade. Then, this time, community service, just fifty more years,” Mr. D pouts like a toddler. “Ugh, ‘get back to your roots’ absolutely ridiculous.”
Percy sighs, “You’re… Dionysus, right?”
“ Oh my– Chiron,” Mr. D groans. “ I thought you taught this kid the basics– of course, I’m Dionysus. What do the kids say these days? Duh.”
“ Kinda off by a few years, Mr. Wine dude, but I was just double–checking. “ Percy says, monotone.
Dionysus turns to look straight at him, a purple fire burning in his eyes. Percy can feel something around his throat. Constricting. Visions of days past flash through his head. People adorned in skins celebrating after a kill, people dressed in linen, fine silk, partying the night away. Drunk warriors sharing stories– lust, people forced to change forms– hands to flippers, fins breaking through skin– followers, worshipers– consequences. Percy knows he wasn’t meant to see all that. But it’s all there, carefully restrained. Dionysus is powerful. He could melt Percy’s brain and leave him in a padded room for the rest of his life. Or do the kinder thing and outright kill him. “ Do not test me, child.”
“ Of course not, sir.”
As suddenly as it came, the power leaves Mr.D, and he turns back to the game, “ I believe I win.”
Chiron clears his throat, “ not quite,” setting down a straight. “ This one goes to me.”
If looks could kill, Chiron’s chair would be empty. Mr.D gets up, roughly pushing the chair, and Grover follows suit. “ I’m tired.” He says. “ I’ll be taking a nap before tonight's festivities, but first, Perseus, a word, please, in private. Chiron, would you mind escorting Mr.Underwood to the counsel? They wish to speak with him.”
“ Of course,” Chiron says, surprised, looking between them.
“ With me, Perseus,” Mr.D says, taking him inside. The room is full of chairs, set in a circle, with a pool table off to the side. Mr.D sits in a plush chair, while Percy sits in a folding chair, a couple of chairs away from him. “ You’re the most peculiar thing.”
“I have no idea what you mean, sir,” Percy says, looking behind him, refusing to meet his eyes.
“That's the thing, I don't believe you do,” Dionysus agrees. “... I wanted to warn you, there aren't many like you here. Chiron and the brats will sing this place’s praises, but for you, it will never be enough.”
“Sir, I don't understand what you're talking about,” Percy says, frowning.
“When you look at me, what do you see? What do you feel?” Dionysus asks, eyes narrowing, contemplative.
“You're all wound up,” he whispers. “ Restrained. I don't know why. Like this… you’re a shadow. Your clothes don't fit the right way, you're uncomfortable, like if you move the wrong way, the seams will split.”
“You're the same way, aren't you?” Dionysus says, “You watch your words, but make trouble for the fun of it… the world speaks to you.”
“ No,” Percy stammers.
“ I've seen it, in your eyes,” Dionysus says, his image flickering again, back to young, fit, covered in skins. Someone older than Zeus's child. “They changed. Iris overtaking them. You saw things–things you shouldn't have. It's been so long since one's been added to our numbers, even for a little while. The others won't be pleased; they’ve forgotten our ways, little cousin.”
Percy's eyes widen, “What?”
“Not in the traditional sense, of course,” they say, “ but adoption and other aspects make it all the same.”
“You know who my dad is?” Percy asks, on the edge of his seat.
“You look just like him,” he says, flickering back to Mr. D. “ Run along now– don’t start to think I’ll play favorites, I have a reputation to keep.” He heads to another room, “ Good luck, cousin.”
Percy sits there flabbergasted, ‘ What on earth just happened? Cousin? T-that 's what, two options? Five, counting the sisters– in the myths, gender didn’t matter– but mom said a man, from the water. Oh gods, no, no, no.’ He slumps in his chair. ‘That…that’s not… it makes sense, in a way… I wanna go home.’ He sits there till someone knocks on the door. He turns around. Chiron.
“ Come on, my boy,” he says. “Let's get you settled.”
Percy gets up and joins him outside.
“ We’ll be getting you situated in cabin eleven for the time being,” Chiron says.
“ Is Grover all right?” Percy asks. “ Is everything okay with that whole… counsel thing?”
Chiron sighs, “This is his second mess up; how things go is up to the council and Olympus.”
“ Mount Olympus? Like in Greece?” Percy asks as they stroll down the desk.
“Well, yes, there is an Olympus in Greece, but I was referring to the realm of the gods. The Mortals confused the realm with the mountain and named it in their honor. It's cute in a way.”
“ So, are they still on the mountain, or?”
“Oh, no,” Chiron says. “The gods move about all the time, with the heart of civilization. The spark began in Greece and turned into a roaring flame. The gods chase it, having tied themselves to it. To their knowledge and beliefs. From Greece to Rome and so on. Names changed, Zeus became Jupiter, Hephaestus to Vulcan…”
“ Same Gods, different names?”
“ Exactly.”
“How does that work, though? The Greeks and Romans have two versions of some events. Which ones are true? The Greeks because they're older, or the Romans because they're more popular?”
“Why can't it be both?” Chiron winks at him. “Come on, let's get you to your bunk. There'll be plenty of new friends to meet and times for lessons in the future. There's a campfire tonight, they'll be s'mores– we have the good chocolate.” he gets out of the wheelchair, blanket falling to the floor– a horse– a centaur springs from the chair.
It's one thing to know but another to see—his ex-teacher, turning into a white stallion.
“What a relief,” Chiron says, stretching. “My fetlocks had fallen asleep on me. Come on, time for a tour.”