{1} 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐘𝐄 | p.jackson

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

| chapter three |

in which demon pigeons attack the camp

THE NEXT STEP WAS MOVING TYSON into Cabin Three. He and Naomi were already best friends because Naomi was just like that: ecstatic to have more family, even if the rest of the camp made fun of them.

But for Percy, Nia could tell, it was a whole lot more complicated. Every time someone commented about him and Tyson, the look on Percy's face was the same way Nia always looked when someone brought up the fact that Artemis was her mother.

It was a face of embarrassment, a face of shame. Just another reminder that they were different.

To make matters worse, now Annabeth and Percy weren't only upset with Nia, but they were also upset with each other. From what Naomi had told her, Nia figured that Annabeth had said something about Tyson that Percy hadn't liked and the rest was history.

Nia, not one to lose her dignity, refused to go and talk to Annabeth and Percy first, but fate didn't seem to be on her side, since she and Percy had border patrol together.

When the time for their patrol came, the two quietly sat on Half-Blood Hill and watched the dryads come and go, singing to the dying pine tree. Satyrs brought their reed pipes and played nature magic songs, and for a while, the pine needles seemed to get fuller; the flowers on the hill smelled a little sweeter; the grass looked greener.

But as soon as the music stopped, the sickness crept back into the air. The whole hill looked infected, dying from the poison that had sunk into Thalia's tree's roots.

Nia clenched her fists, speaking for the first time since they started that evening, "It's horrible."

Percy looked at her. "Yeah. It is. And Luke did it."

"Gods," Nia snarled. "Don't even mention that dickwad's name. I can't believe that he would do this to Thalia."

Percy was silent for a moment. "When you and Annabeth first met him. Was he—"

"Nice? Trustworthy? Yeah," Nia chewed on her lip, still staring at the poisoned view. "Don't tell her I told you this, but Annabeth practically worshipped the ground Luke walked on. I can't really blame her, though. We were only seven and Luke was one of the first people who treated us like we mattered. Not even our own families did that."