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This day started out like any other. Except, it did not. They were on their way to a quest, not a very often occurrence, so to say it started out like any other day would be telling a flat lie.
Just the three of them. Like… All quests did.
Apparently. Whatever those old stories and prophecies said.
Sam would just have to trust them.
"You have two minutes!"
Ugh. Loud screeches seven in the blazing cold morning – who even had so much energy barely twenty-and-a-half seconds after the sun rose? Sam barely had his braincells together, his hair looked terrible and unfortunately mussed-up from him falling out of bed due to a previous screechy wake-up call, and his wardrobe had to be re-decided, because he was so not feeling the red for today.
Adding on to that, his tiny window was jammed (not a coincidence – Janet had superglued it to stay open, clearly, before yelling the soul out of his body), and, yes, Janet was not-so-covertly hyping him up to, as quoted, "Get the HELL out here!"
Well, unlike some people, Janet, most campers have cabin mates who do not consent to also getting yelled at just because they chose the bed next to the sole person on the receiving end of the yelling. Goodness. She had not shame. None at all.
His half-siblings would, judging from their sleepy glares being directed at him this very moment, roast him to smithereens if they were not trying to salvage the last few minutes of sleep before they were also forced to get up. He would be nice this time. Let them get their very important beauty sleep – because that was what big brothers did. Obviously, he did not also make a habit of yelling his cabin-mates up five minutes after dawn. Nope.
"Shhh!" He shot out the window, while wrestling with whether the blue or deep beige— oh, nevermind, just put it all on, it will all get covered in monster goo or whatever, Sam, get your act together—
"One. Minute."
Her tone barely missed out on the exclamation mark at the end, but Sam was open to mentally marking it with one.
"I've already packed, I'll be out soon!" Yes, yes, he could do this, this quest would go smoothly and they would be back so soon no one would even—
When he rushed out, hair barely combed and bag slung over a wrinkled sweater, he was met with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. Ugh. He hated that look.
"Thought you said you were thinking of that fuzzy red coat for today," Janet remarked, eyeing his layered mess of clothes. Sam scowled at her.
"Wasn't feeling that colour," he off-handedly replied, running a hand through his hair. Hopefully not many others were already up this early, he did not want to be seen so disgruntled and in such disarray. Being a camp counsellor had three perks and a million downsides – including being picked on for being over-critical when they themselves were even a little out of line. Even if it was by a stray hair. "Where's Darcy?"
Janet shrugged. "Must still be in the gardens."
"She can't be taking too much longer, can she?"
He was proven right when their gardener friend tripped over herself rushing to their side, some soil decorating her boots, not one minute later. "Sorry! I was dealing with those enchanted weeds. We've yet to come up with a name for them but they're really getting on my nerves."
"Anyone going to manage that while we're away?" Janet inquired, frowning. Her dark bangs shifted a little with her head moving. Sam suddenly noticed that she had left in the ebony ear piercings from her impromptu dress-up session from yesterday (don't ask), and kind of felt like congratulating himself.
"Well, I'm not the Demeter cabin counsellor, so I don't really handle all those scheduling things," Darcy said, shaking the soil off her boots, "but Mari said she has everything handled, including the weeds, before I went to bed yesterday, so it'll probably be fine."
"That's good," Sam offered. Darcy shrugged in response, sighing.
About two seconds of nothing passed, in which nerves really started to gather in his gut, before Janet spoke up again, taking up her position as their quest leader. "So! I guess we'll be setting off, huh?"
She was already walking off, and Sam was quick to follow, Darcy beside him.
"Feels kinda weird to just be… leaving," Sam said, wincing. "If Argus isn't waiting for us beyond the barrier, can we really quickly rush back so no one notices we're gone, like, at all?"
Janet turned around and eyed him again, pausing in her footsteps. This time, she looked like she was contemplating his entire existence. Sam felt rather dwarfed. "…There's probably better things to worry about, Sam."
Then she was off walking, again. When Sam felt more nerves gather in his gut, he turned to Darcy for help, but she just shrugged her big, famed shrug back at him.
"Besides," Janet added, this time keeping her eyes forward, "We already got a prophecy from Rachel. Aren't you excited to figure out that mess of words?"
Nope. Nope.
No, he was not. Seriously, Janet.
Janet had jinxed them.
Was there any doubt to distinguish that thought? Nope, none at all, because the moment Janet had asked for a doughnut and then dared to claim that there were no malicious spirits in the baked confection because, oh, "that would be so absurd, Sam, what are you on about", instead of there being no monsters present in the first two hours of their relatively low-stakes quest, there appeared a seven-foot-tall shadowy monster wearing a half-chewed doughnut as a hat growling at them. For what, only the creature itself knew, because Sam's braincells for the day we're only half-gathered. Not that anyone had to know that, obviously.
Sam almost felt bad for enraging that shadowy creature (was it a hellhound?), mostly because it looked kind of like a dog, and hell-spawn-like or not, dogs were dogs. However, Janet did not seem to share the same sentiment, because—
"I was NOT done with that doughnut, silly!"
She was not even trying to attack the monster, with how she was merely gesturing madly at it with the tip of her bow. Her arrow case was still closed. At least, she did not seem to want to fight it, but she could do with some calming down, because they could always get another doughnut. Also, the dog had only jumped out at them after they had stolen (read: half-eaten) its hiding spot. Maybe it just needed a squeaky toy to calm down.
Janet's hair was more unruly than usual – there was even powered sugar on one side. That did not help to make her look menacing, but Sam's friend could dream.
Sam wondered, suddenly, just how they had managed to get on that bus ride with no casualties if demigods were monster magnets. Sure, only two out of three of them were kids of the Super Major Gods, but that was plenty enough. Even a drop of god blood detected in any poor demigod was apparently enough to send invitations to every old monster two miles away from the demigod's current location.
Then he figured that they had just been lucky enough. Unfortunately for them, Janet Worthington had decided that she would be here, with them, with her penance for occasional bad luck. Only occasional, after all.
Darcy was at Sam's side in the next blink. "Do we, like, run?" She looked pretty unsure. Sam could not help but feel the same, even if he was older than them.
"Janet seems to really want her doughnut back," Sam noted. He was then cut off.
"I give up on that doughnut, we are going!"
And so they were… going. When they turned around, the chilly atmosphere and glowering darkness crawling along the pavement suddenly disappeared, and something soft hit the ground. There was a pretty innocent 'woof'. Sam was too afraid to turn back around to check where it had come from.
See? Never choose violence, kids. Everything works out in the end.
Yes, yes it does.
When Sam and Darcy caught up with a scowling Janet, trying to keep their twinning smiles down, he felt a violent chill slide down his spine, and his breath caught in his throat. What?
Like someone was watching them. Him. He had never felt anything quite like this before but he was so sure that was what it was.
Oh, not now, gods, please, there had to be powered sugar in his hair, too—
And, more importantly, oh, Mother Aphrodite who even was it? Who even could it be?
The tingling sensation running down his back could barely be ignored, but he pushed on, trying not to let it show. It probably was not anything serious. Maybe this happened to campers on quests all the time.
He could not help but feel like eyes were on him, pouring ice into his skin…
Janet finally cracked a smile, knocking her hand against his. He tried to smile back.
All right, he would take responsibility for this one.
Chiron would tell him that such a mistake (walk into a cafe, sit down after fighting a pack of ten kobaloi who wanted to mess around with the "young-spirited little half-gods", order shakes with your hair still a little singed, and hope that this cliché movie-like scene would not incite more monsters to arrive and mess with their quest) was a rookie one.
Well, Sam made rookie mistakes, owned them, and also took responsibility for the fact that this little town cafe was now also run through with flames and spilled drinks due to a blazing, enormous lizard tracing their paths to this very spot.
Charmspeak could only get a demigod so far. How was one supposed to charmspeak fire away, again?
"Great idea to come to Sharley's Café, Sam, really," Janet drawled, sarcasm clear in every syllable, "I really cannot think of the million other ways we could have avoided this situation – like, I don't know, for instance, taking our shakes for to-go?"
"Please zip it, Janet, and give me that jug of water you are so graciously filling, thank you!"
She threw it over, him barely catching it. Water sloshed over the rim.
Their new lizard friend had been shot and subdued - barely - by Darcy's weave of coreopsis, coneflowers and geranium; all fire-resistant enough that they were not too worried about the creature creaking and groaning in the corner of the shop, strangled by flowers, while they attempted to clean up after themselves. Sam wondered absently if the Mist would save the mortals who had been in here some trauma (they had run, some screaming about a huge, flaming refrigerator running around as though possessed. Kind of strange, but at least they had a sense of survival). The huge lizard had yet to be destroyed completely, but they had to worry about the fire first, since the monster could always reform – they could not.
Some flames burst out, nearly catching his side, but he sidestepped easily, putting it out with a careful tilting of the jug in one wide swipe. Steam rose from the ground.
Sam hurriedly pushed his hair back, hoping he would not have it all burnt from blonde to void-black before the end of this quest. That would suck.
"That milkshake better be world-ending!" Janet added over her shoulder, already filling up another jug behind the counter. A few plants, high above the chaos, waved their drinks, and Sam shook his head up at them. Darcy must be managing the flames better than they were on her side of the shop if she could be waving at them.
More flames erupted, though, with every one they put out, and Sam felt that their impending deadline-slash-doom was soon to arrive in another fiery explosion… Whether they got to have their shakes after this or not.
It felt like they would be going at this for longer than they spent actually ticking the actual agenda of their quest. That was, before, yes, Explosion Number Two came. In the form of a powerful, twitchy minor god.
Oh, gods of Olympus.
The god was tall. Covered in flames, too, to the point that it was clear that the flames were coming from him. At the same time, in those five seconds the three of them blinked at the oncoming being, ice, cold and paralysing, shot up Sam's entire form, and he visibly shivered, hugging himself, despite the sweltering heat showering them all with a golden glow and burning hazards.
Eyes, burning gold.
Those eyes that must have been following him after they met that shadow-dog. A sense of foreboding clenched him tight, making it hard to think.
Darcy had run back to their corner of the place, brows furrowed. Her pigtails were tangled up with some stems, and leaves were growing out of her bag. She rushed to Sam's side, Janet abandoning the jug at the counter for her bow and some arrows to also join the pair, stepping a little further out in front of them, probably to give a semblence of protection like she always did. Wow, the three of them, together. Again.
Pretty powerless against this weird, glowing, fiery god, but at least Sam felt better about their combined odds. Janet had her photokinesis, Darcy had her flora-manipulation, and he had his charmspeak and a few throwing knives, perfect for—
"Samuel Littman," the god drew out, his voice surprisingly young, a low smirk on his face. How…concerning. Oh, and was that a full name? Gods, he was not even the leader of this quest, he should not be getting all this attention. Not that he wanted Janet in his place. "Finally, you stay in one spot for more than two blasted minutes."
Sam fidgeted uneasily where he was on Janet's left, swallowing. His throat felt really dry – what he would not do for that shake being held up by Darcy's plants right now. "Should— Should I know you?"
Sheesh. Creep of an immortal being, sends a giant, flaming lizard over to thrash a café, burns up that café, and leers at a son of Aphrodite in the remains of the café – how unoriginal.
As he readied himself for what was probably going to be another fight, except in a fire-strewn café this time, they all jumped upon the startling slam of what sounded like a car door being closed hastily. Even the god narrowed his eyes and turned around.
Just outside the ruined cafe, in the carpark of the stripmall, there was a car with some dents on the hood, and some… guy… striding straight towards them, seemingly unafraid of the flames. He looked almost disgruntled, his dark hair falling over his face messily.
"Uh," Sam voiced out, honestly super confused as to how they had ended up in this blend of a situation. Yeah, he was ready to walk straight back to camp, quest completed or not. The god turned back to face him, glaring, and—
And before they knew it, the flames were put out in a sudden mass-drop of water from the top of the café, the pipes in the ceiling had burst, they were all sopping wet and the huge lizard in the corner was literally drowning in the new pool of water created. Sam blinked, pushing his hair out of his face, not even angry enough about how wet he now was when all he could feel was shock. And some ever-lasting confusion. He had nearly dropped his knives.
As he watched, the water gathered, being sucked from around their feet to a whirling ball of powerful, churning blue under the palm of none other than their mystery figure, who had somehow remained perfectly dry throughout the three seconds of flash-flooding the cafe had just underwent. The man, barely looking twenty, raised a very expressive eyebrow, first at the god, then at their lizard friend, then at the three of them.
The god took a step back from the man. Weird. Huh.
He was very clearly waiting for an explanation, but it seemed that the young man decided to take pity on them, because he started speaking anyway, breaking the silence. "First I get a fire alert, and then some mortals screaming about a huge, fire-spewing fridge, and now I see that their claims were not so far off! And here I was, thinking I could get a break this month for once."
Sam kind of felt as though he were being reprimanded, despite the exasperated smile on the dude's face. Was this guy - very possibly a half-god like them - some sort of Chiron-two-point-o or something? It could explain his age and… control over water…
Wait. Wait a godsdarn moment.
Okay, now his braincells were working. Uh oh. The young man's piercing green eyes suddenly felt very, very familiar.
"We're on a… quest, if you know what that is," Janet perked up, narrowed eyes directed at the man. "… Should we know you?"
"Maybe," the man shrugged, stuffing his hands in his long, green coat pockets. The ball of water remained churning and floating. "A whole lot of people know me, fortunately, and unfortunately." He eyed the god, somehow looking almost disapproving. "I'm afraid you're going in the latter category, bro."
The god spluttered. "Do not "bro" me, Jackson!"
Jackson.
Yup. Yup. That only confirmed Sam's suspicions. This day was moving way too quickly for his taste.
"Okay, since you three are on a quest," the man said to Janet, promptly ignoring the god, who glared at him in response, "Can you tell me one thing? On a scale of one to ten, just how important is it for you three to take this god down yourselves?" He pointed with a thumb at the god, who looked furious at the implication that he could be defeated by some teenagers. "Because I have already beat him up before and would love to do it again."
"We don't know him," Janet said quickly. Sam nodded, unsure, while Darcy shrugged. "Please beat him up so we can fix Sam's mother's chariot with a magic artifact."
"Seriously?" Sam hissed at her. Oh, she did not have to expand on the contents of their quest. Janet patted his shoulder, which made him very conscious of just how wet they all still were. He shook both his hands towards the ground, grimacing, some droplets getting flicked off.
The water-controlling probably-demigod winced at that, and brought his hands out of his pockets, flicking one of them. A second later found the three of them dry and warm, the god still sopping wet and no longer burning away like a very persistent matchstick. Sam figured that was done out of spite.
The young man turned to face the god, contemplating him with an unreadable expression in those green eyes, shot through, now Sam noticed, with a wavering, twinkling blue. They were rather dazzling.
"What did I say about stalking young demigods who really don't want to be followed around, Heffron?" The man finally said, crossing his arms. Huh. That was not a name Sam recognised. Also, what?
Heffron, the god, for his credit, merely scowled under the man's gaze and stood his height. Like all creepy gods, clearly he had no qualms about… stalking young demigods. What the hell. "That you would pull the ground out from under my feet if I were to do that again?"
Clearly, the god had not been beat up enough before if there could be so much sarcasm in those few words.
"Thank you for removing the cuss words I definitely remember adding in, but there really was no need," the man shot back. His fingers did a little tap-wave on his other arm. Then, he sighed. "I swear, if I see you again, I am not letting you go, like, at all." He took a step right into Heffron's personal godly space, leaning right in. "And I swear, whatever you were planning on doing with Sam, you would barely find yourself even touching him before I ripped the arm out of your socket."
Then he was stepping away, an easy, albeit slightly dark smile on his face. Also, wow, he knew Sam's name. However he had gotten it.
"You don't touch the kids, you got that? They're under a whole lot of protection, whether or not you know it." The man continued, still, even as he adjusted his coat, not quite looking at any of them. "In fact, if you want to follow anyone around, why not try following me?"
It was a threat. It was, really, it was. Underlying and barely there, but with how dark the churning in the young man's eyes had gotten, it was intended. Definitely.
The ball of water, which Sam had nearly forgotten about, evaporated into thin air with a wave of the man's now outstretched arm.
Heffron eyed the young man, his golden, glowing eyes narrowed, but betraying his unease even with how the colour covered all of his two eyes. "Until we meet again, sea-spawn."
"Get out," the man offered. The god was gone in an instant, leaving glowing, orange sparks behind, flying around the café. Sam shuddered, still feeling some phantom icicles crawling down his back.
He turned to them, trying for a smile. "…Hey there. You three got a quest leader?"
Uhm. So were they going to ignore all that had just happened? Wow. Okay, okay. This should be something perfectly normal, then. To experience during quests, specifically.
"Me," Janet responded immediately, but still cautiously. "By the way, you seem really familiar."
The man hummed. He seemed perfectly fine with that, so Sam filled in the rest of the puzzle for his friend. "Are you Percy Jackson?"
Janet swore, startling him, still staring straight at the guy. Her bow was lowered slowly, almost awkwardly. How nonchalant.
Sam would cover Darcy's ears if not for Janet standing between the two.
The young man let out a laugh at that. "You got me – name's Percy." His hands went back in his pockets, and he let out a breath. Sam felt himself relax, too. "You may have heard of me before. Or not, hopefully. Building on impressions is a feat I am never going to be up for."
Janet seemed shell-shocked. Sam would laugh at her expression if he was not also feeling the same way. Darcy, meanwhile, seemed perfectly happy to wave at Percy.
"Soooo," Ariana, Sam's one and only older sister in this whole cabin, said, wriggling her eyebrows, clearly waiting for a continuation of his explanation. Sam sighed, adjusting himself in the heap of heart-shaped pillows and silky blankets, pushing back his wavy hair to sit behind his ears. Some curls popped out anyway.
"So," Sam replied, readying himself, then just pausing to breathe in. "Ugh. So. Uh. She kissed me. We fixed the chariot. Blah blah blah. The end. Happy?"
"I think your charmspeak is really cool!" Izel piped up, crawling forwards to sit beside him. Sam gasped, feeling his face burn.
"Izel, you were not supposed to hear that," Sam said slowly, inching away from his little sister. She grinned. "Any of that. Like, no."
Way too many of his other cabin-mates turned their heads in perfect synchronisation towards him at those words, looking plain guilty. Somehow, they had all congregated a little closer to him this the twenty minutes he had been pouring his heart out to his older sister, and he had not noticed. Sam gasped again, shaking his head, trying to look reproachful. "Seriously, you all."
"Damn," Ariana remarked. Sam set his death glare on her, and she raised her hands, setting down the blush she had been fiddling with. "I'm sure they were only curious, Sammy."
"Half the cabin is in here, Ana," Sam groaned, hiding his face in his hands.
Then came the campfire, and Sam's escape from his teasing sister and eavesdropping cabin-mates. It was maybe half-past seven, the fire was already reaching the heavens with how mad high and bright pink it had gotten, and he was the last few to get to the amphitheatre because he had been waiting for a certain someone.
Dumb, giggly emotions threatened to erupt in his gut, and he let them. Just a little.
Janet's hand slid into his easily, her shoulder bumping into his, and there was the rabbit in his gut again, jumping up and down, making squeaking noises, causing a rampage and great gods he had never felt so high and floaty before then. He could feel, more than see, Janet's smirk.
They sat down beside Darcy – not normal camp seating arrangements, but who cares, they were celebrating the three of them, at least a little. Finally, three demigods return from a quest with no casualties or the message of impending doom and carnage, and also manage to make the gods happy again.
Although, Sam had a feeling that Aphrodite had never cared about the chariot getting fixed in the first place, if her eyes twinkling at their intertwined fingers before they had even reached the busted chariot had been any indication. Well, gods could have all sorts of weird motives. As long as they, demigods who merely wanted to live as old as possible, were not smited, then… cool.
The flames did a little dance when they joined, turning a little green, for that pretty cool-warm gradient. Sam jumped, mind nearly going to the café they had pretty much gotten burned down, but he breathed out slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
For naught.
Because now there was a guy in a long green coat and a black sweater sliding in behind them, looking right at home. His sea green eyes twinkled, the fire only helping to illuminate the strange glow they always seemed to possess. Sam eyed him – Percy only seemed to near the trio with a little shift to the left, fitting right in with the small group.
Oh. Wow. Uhm.
At least this was a less stressful surprise.
Janet, about to say something to Sam, instead let out a sudden swear when she turned her head to the side, hand dropping back down to her lap, looking away from Percy quickly. Somehow, though, Darcy seemed to find the presence of their newest friend yet completely normal.
Darcy, somehow having formed a handshake with the twenty-ish-year-old without any of their knowledge (maybe when they had turned away to discuss their next few steps while standing in the wreckage of the café?), executed it behind Sam and Janets' backs, making them lean over with a shared eye-roll.
Percy breathed a laugh after the two could lean back again, the low-force wind blowing his dark hair around. "Didn't think I'd be back here so early into break, but I wanted to check on you guys."
Sam looked around the amphitheatre, which was brimming with chatter, and a humming sense of anticipation. He wondered if anyone had noticed Percy already – possibly not many, since the campfire would probably go mad with greens and blues with the campers' excitement. Sam, being the literally empathic individual he was, could tell anyone a list of ten whole campers who had the biggest, fattest crush on their resident Saviour of Olympus – complete with the one instance each person had or had not met Percy but fell in love with the idea of him in the first two minutes of them knowing of his existence. Regardless, too, of the fact that Percy had a girlfriend who could kick ass as cool as he could. Maybe even cooler. Definitely, actually. No one could possibly say less of Annabeth Chase.
Percy shifted just the slightest, and Sam realised with heat rising between his eyes that those might not the best thoughts to have right next to the subject himself.
Sam sat up straighter. "You've really got your timing on right, then. We just got back."
"Yeah, it's a funny sense that I have," Percy whispered, as though he were sharing a secret with the three of them.
"Wow," Darcy breathed.
"Why are we whispering?" Janet cut in, also low-voiced. Sam felt her breath on his neck, and a rush of flurrying motion tumbled through him, leaving him blushing.
"Because it's fun," Sam replied, tone shifting a little closer to a stage-whisper. "Also, uh, Percy, it kind of feels like you're trespassing with that huge cloak and black sweater – us lesser beings don orange for the days and nights, you know."
"Ah, yes, you're helping the trespasser get around," Percy said, mock appalled. "Next thing you know Chiron will find out and horse-kick me out."
What a mental image to have.
"…Would he really?" Darcy asked, leaning her head against a fist.
"No, he already knows I'm here," Percy assured them, his smile turning more fond as he stared at the campfire. Sam was very suddenly reminded of the fact that Percy Jackson was older than every single camper in this amphitheatre, and was on teasing-basis with their old centaur mentor.
Not quite knowing what he was planning on saying, Sam said, with a laugh,"Uh, you know, my siblings still ask for bedtime stories involving your adventures."
Percy turned to him, aghast, but with a little twitch to his lips, like he also wanted to smile. "That's… What kind of stories?"
"They'll ask about anything that they think happened, and by the time it's cleared up, they're falling asleep," Janet clarified. Percy still looked half-mortified-half-proud, which Janet met with a rather creepy slow-smile. "Oh, yeah, just to clarify—" she leant forward, over Sam, "—you ever blow a hole into the armoury because you very specifically were attempting to get a bullseye in the archery range with a flaming apple stuck on an arrow?"
"…I characterise that under 'I did not mean to do that'," Percy said slowly. Janet leant back into her spot, pushing her elbows down on Sam's thighs to get up. Again, dumbly, something buzzed in his gut at the contact.
Meanwhile, Janet gave a nod, her eyes narrowed. "Figures you were once just like any of us trouble-makers-in-the-making. Crazy how I used to have, like, the biggest crush on you."
Sam kept a straight face, not letting the flashbacks of those… awestruck days come to mind. Darcy was looking away pointedly, eyes wide and looking ready to bolt. Maybe she had something to confess too, hmm. Not that Sam would know, of course.
Percy made a strangled noise, sounding like he had attempted to acknowledge that with a hum-turned-concerned-shout. His green eyes did a glance-around before coming back to rest on them. "…Is it ethical of me to keep sitting here?"
"Yes!" Janet answered, somehow cheerful. "You should give me your autograph or something. The other Iris kids would never believe me if you leave without anyone noticing tonight."
Sam knew, deep within, Janet was jumping at the chance of a semblance of an autograph from Percy Jackson. He still remembered those days. No amount of character development was going to pull Janet's history out of that hole.
"Maybe next time I'll come in orange," Percy said as he handed back the crumpled-up receipt to Janet, a fresh marker-drawn scrawl on it. She tried, Sam could tell, to be chill and stuff it back into her jeans pocket, but he could nearly see the excitement in her go mad. "I'm pretty sure my old camp shirt is drying on a rack right now."
Right then, just before Janet began to say something back, the clopping of hooves against tarmac could be heard echoing off the sides of the amphitheatre, along with a slight clearing of the throat, just as amplified. Chiron was here, and was probably going to start off the night with announcing the success of another small quest. They had even figured out their prophecy on the journey – see, Rachel's belief in them had been well-founded.
"Attention, campers!"
The chatter ceased, just a little.
"News may have reached your side of this camp before tonight, but let us welcome back the three questers of last week!" Chiron raised his arm towards their general direction. "Samuel Littman, Darcy Clayton, and their quest leader, Janet Worthington!"
A roar of applause and whoops came by their direction, everyone turning in their places to face them.
That was broken by some guy with long white sleeves shouting, "Yo, is that Percy Jackson?"
There were some exclamations, and the crowd nearly tripped over themselves to spot the mentioned person – not that it could be that hard, seeing as Percy was one lone figure wearing dark, muddy colours next to vibrantly orange-donning teenagers. Maybe Percy was starting to blend in with the falling colours of the night.
Chiron's arm wavered in the air for a few seconds before he slowly lowered it, shrugging. "And Percy has come to visit, I suppose."
Percy gave a weak wave.