Chapter Text
Percy
My nightmare started like this.
I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings line the streets, their windows boarded up. A block away, past the line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.
Florida, I thought. I wasn't sure how I knew that. I have never been to Florida.
Then I heard hooves clattering against the pavement. I turned and saw my best friend Grover running for his life.
Yeah, I said hooves.
Grover is a satyr. From the waist up, he looks like a typical gangly teenager with a peach fuzz goatee and a bad case of acne. He walks with a strange limp, but unless you happen to catch him without his pants on, which I don't recommend, you'd never know there was anything un-human about him. Baggy jeans and fake feet hide the fact that he's got furry hind quarters.
Grover had been me and my brother's best friend in sixth grade. He'd gone on this adventure with me, my brother, and a girl named Annabeth to save the world, but I hadn't seen him since last July, when he'd set off alone on a dangerous quest—a quest no satyr had ever returned from.
Anyway, in my dream, Grover was hauling goat tail, holding his human shoes in his hands the way he does when he needs to move fast. He clopped past the little tourist shops and surfboard rental places. The wind bent the palm trees almost to the ground.
Grover was terrified of something behind him. He must have come back from the beach. Wet sand was caked in his fur. He escaped from somewhere. He was trying to get away from . . . something.
A bone rattling growl cut through the storm. Behind Grover, at the far end of the block, a shadowy figure loomed. It swatted aside a street lamp, which burst into a shower of sparks.
Grover stumbled, whimpering in fear. He muttered to himself, have to get away. Have to warn them!
I couldn't see what was chasing him, but I could hear it muttering and cursing. The ground shook as it got closer. Grover dashed around the street corner and faltered. He'd run into a dead end courtyard full of shops. No time to back up. The nearest store had been blown open by the storm. The sign above the dark display window read: CT. Augustine Bridal Boutique.
Grover dashed inside. He dove behind a rack of wedding dresses
The monster's shadow passed in front of the shop. I could smell the thing, a sickening combination of wet sheep wool and rotten meat and that weird sour body odor only monsters have, like a skunk that's been living off Mexican food.
Grover trembled behind the wedding dresses. The monster shadow passed on.
Silence except for the rain. Grover took a deep breath, maybe the thing was gone.
Then lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded, and a monstrous voice bellowed: “MIIINNEE!”
I sat bolt upright, shivering in my bed.
There was no storm. No monster.
Morning sunlight flitted through my bedroom window.
I thought I saw a shadow flicker across the glass, a human-like shape. But then there was a knock on my bedroom door and my mom called: “Percy, Victor, you're going to be late” —and the shadow at the window disappeared.
My brother sat up next to me, sputtering a bit as he tried to gain consciousness properly.
“You didn't wake me up?” he asked, sounding almost offended.
“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly.
The figure in the window must have been my imagination. A fifth story window with a rickety old fire escape . . . there couldn't have been anyone out there.
“Come on, my dears,” our mother called again. “The last day of school. You should be excited! You've almost made it!”
“Mom! Don't jinx it!” Victor wined, he stumbled out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom. Since returning from summer camp, he hasn't worn long sleeves as often as he used to, he still does for school. I think he's come to terms with the fact that he can't hide it from me and Mom any longer.
I still find it a little odd that mom hasn't tried to get him help for it, not that I think he'd accept anyway. If she tried, I think Victor would just run away to camp, and not come back for the school year ever again.
I felt under my pillow. My fingers closed reassuringly around the ballpoint pen I've always slept with. I brought it out, studying the ancient Greek writing engraved on the side: Anaklusmos. Riptide.
I thought about uncapping it, but something held me back. I hadn't used Riptide for so long . . .
Besides, my mom made us promise not to use our deadly weapons in the apartment after I swung a javelin the wrong way and took out her China cabinet. I put my sword-pen on my nightstand and dragged myself out of bed.
I got dressed as quickly as I could. I tried not to think about my nightmare or monsters or the shadow at my window.
Have to get away. Have to warn them!
What had Grover meant?
I made a three-fingered claw over my heart and pushed outward, an ancient gesture Grover had once taught me and my brother for warding off evil.
The dream couldn't have been real.
The last day of school. Mom was right, I should have been excited. For the first time in our lives, me and Victor almost made it an entire school year without getting expelled. No weird accidents. No fights in the classroom. No teachers turning into monsters and trying to kill us with poisoned cafeteria food or exploding homework. Tomorrow, we'll be on our way to our favorite place in the world, Camp Half-Blood.
Only one more day to go. Surely even we couldn't mess that up.
As usual, I didn't have a clue how wrong I was.
Mom made blue waffles and blue eggs for breakfast. She's funny that way, celebrating special occasions with blue food. I think it's her way of saying anything is possible. Percy and Victor can pass seventh grade. Waffles can be blue. Little miracles like that.
We ate at the kitchen table while our mom washed dishes. She was dressed in her work uniform, a starry blue skirt and a red-and-white striped blouse she wore to sell candy at Sweet On America. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
The waffles tasted great, but I guess I wasn't digging in like I usually did. Mom looked over and frowned. “Percy, are you all right?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“You don't seem too ‘fine’.” Vic said, looking up from his plate of food. He had a slight frown on his face.
They could always tell when something was bothering me. Mom dried her hands and sat down across from me, next to Victor. “School, or . . .”
“Monster related,” Vic finished her sentence.
“I think Grover's in trouble,” I said. I told them about my dream.
Mom pursed her lips. We didn't talk much about the other part of our lives. We tried to live as normally as possible, but our mom knew all about Grover.
“I wouldn't be too worried, dear,” she said. “Grover is a big satyr now. If there were a problem, I'm sure we would have heard from . . . from camp. . . .” Her shoulders tensed as she said the word camp.
“What is it?” My brother asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “I'll tell you what. This afternoon we will celebrate the end of school. I'll take you boys and Tyson to Rockefeller Center—to that skateboard shop you like, Perce, and we can stop at that secondhand book shop you like, Vic.”
Oh, man, that was tempting. We were always struggling with money. Between my mom's night classes and our private school tuition, we could never afford to do special stuff like shop for skateboards or more books. But something in her voice bothered me.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “I thought we were packing up for camp tonight.”
She twisted her dishrag. “Ah, dear, about that . . . I got a message from Chiron last night.”
My heart sank. Chiorn was the activities director at Camp Half-Blood. He wouldn't contact us unless something serious was going on. “What did he say?”
“He thinks it might not be safe for you to come to Camp just yet, we might have to postpone.”
“Postpone? Mom, how could it not be safe? We’re half-bloods! It's like the only safe place on Earth for us!” Victor all but shouted. Things had gotten better between them since the start of the summer, but there was still a bit of tension between Mom and Vic, after what happened with Smelly Gabe . . .
“Usually, my dears. but with the problems they're having—”
“What problems?”
“Boys . . . I'm very, very sorry. I was hoping to talk to you about it this afternoon. I can't explain it all now. I'm not even sure Chiron can. Everything happened so suddenly.”
My mind was reeling. How could we not go to camp? I wanted to ask a million questions, but just then the kitchen clock chimed the half hour.
Mom looked almost relieved. “Seven-thirty, dears. You should go. Tyson will be waiting.”
“But—”
“Boys, we'll talk this afternoon. Go to school.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do, but mom had this fragile look in her eyes, a kind of warning, like if I pushed her too hard she would start to cry. Besides, she was right about our friend Tyson. We had to meet him at the subway station on time or he'd get upset. He was scared of traveling underground alone
We gathered up our stuff, but I stopped in the doorway. “Mom, this problem at camp. Does it . . . have anything to do with my dream about Grover?”
She wouldn't meet my eyes “We'll talk this afternoon, dear. I'll explain . . . as much as I can.”
Reluctantly, we said goodbye. We jogged downstairs to catch the number two train.
I didn't know it at the time, but the three of us would never get to have our afternoon talk.
In fact, we wouldn't be seeing home for a long, long time.
As we stepped outside, I glanced at the brownstone building across the street. Just for a second, I saw a dark shape in the morning sunlight, a human silhouette against the brick wall, a shadow that belonged to no one.
Then it rippled and vanished.