G(r)eek Tragedy

7.

"Fresh meat Chiron, Mr. D! She just stopped by the cabin."

Two men sat playing cards at a little coffee table in the den, surrounded by tacky furniture and brightly patterned rugs. One was pudgy and clad in a purple Hawaiian shirt with socks and sandals. The other wasn't exactly all man. His top half looked completely normal, intense brown eyes meeting her own as he scratched at his beard. But when Eithne looked down, his tweed jacket shifted into a bright white horse, legs tucked in as he sat comfortably on the rug.

"Yes, yes," the pudgy man said, barely glancing at them before he waved dismissively. "Welcome to camp and all that."

"Thank you, Connor," the centaur smiled. "You can head back now."

Connor nodded and quickly ran off, shaking Eithne from her staring. She stood a little taller, crossing her arms.

"Are you just going to stand there," the pudgy man grumbled.

"Are you going to give me any answers?"

He sniffed and glared at her. The other man trotted next to her, placed a hand on her back, and guided Eithne to the leather couch. The monstrosity looked like it'd swallow her whole. Eithne chose to stand, leaning on the couch arm and trying her best not to itch at the spot where he touched her.

"Like Mr. D said, welcome to Camp Half-blood. I'm Chiron...?"

"Eithne."

"So, which unlucky goat dragged you here," Mr. D griped. 

"It was a boy actually, Ak. He lived with me at a...home while trying to track a monster in disguise."

Chiron patiently nodded, hands scratching at his hip. "Ah, yes. With the shortage of satyrs, some demigods have been dispatched to...hmm...recruit campers while handling the monsters outside. Naturally, Aksu is one of them."

"Naturally? He was shit."

Mr. D twitched in a mini seizure as he slammed his deck of cards onto the table.

"Typical," he shouted. "All you mortals have absolutely no manners!"

Eithne was liking the fat man less and less, which really was a feat in of itself given she didn't like anybody, but she let him ramble on. She learned long ago never to push someone who smelled as drunk as him. Especially when she was surrounded by powerful monsters and demigods. He could bench press the entire camp and eat tortured souls for breakfast for all she knew.

Chiron brushed his hand across the table and messed up the cards all over again. When Mr. D frantically gathered them up and went back to shuffling, Chiron continued.

"You came from Cabin Eleven, yes? Hermes has guided travelers throughout the ages. He escorted Pandora to Epimetheus, led Priam to Achilles' tent. Even the goddesses needed help to reach Mount Ida. It's only natural a child of Hermes would help young demigods find their way."

Of course, it'd be just her luck that Ak was a child of Hermes. He had the thievery down pat and he kind of had the same mischievous smile as Connor. Hopefully, he wouldn't stay long and be off recruiting before she ever had to see him again.

"We were attacked twice. People died."

His face darkened a little at that but kept the same placating tone as before. Like she was some kid who needed wrangling. Like her concerns weren't serious. 

"Demigods are rarely safe outside of camp," Chiron agreed, "but you'll learn more later. It's getting late and dinner will start soon. Why don't we put on the orientation film?"

He stared at her with those intense eyes, peering past all her skin and bones to get at the soul within her. Eithne shrugged, partly because she didn't care what they did and partly to shake off the creepy-crawly feeling.

"If we must," Mr. D sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. With a quick snap of his fingers, a 120-inch screen TV propped itself on the wall.

Eithne couldn't hide her gasp and blushed when Chiron laughed quietly. Suddenly, the screen flickered to life. The Big House was filled with blinding light as a Baywatch lifeguard in a little white dress radiated bronze light. He jogged along the beach, the sunlight following his every movement. Arrows flew behind him. Armored kids trailed along in the stupidest helmets Eithne had ever seen, red and blue plumes shooting out like deflated mohawks. The Baywatch lifeguard flexed his pecks and began the chant.

"I don't know but I've been told!"

"We don't know but we've been told!"

"The sun god's got a bow of gold!"

"The sun god's got a bow of gold!"

"He's the best shot in the land!"

"He's the best shot in the land!"

Suddenly, the lifeguard tripped. His white dress fluttered in the wind just before he landed, flashing a bare butt cheek. "I've fallen in the sand!"

"Augh! He's fallen in the sand!"

"I meant to do that, so don't laugh!"

"He meant to do that, so don't laugh!"

He tried to get back up, flailing in the soft sand and plopping back down. Hard.

"Ow! I hurt my godly calf!"

"Ow! He hurt his godly calf!"

Eithne and the camp director snickered, ignoring how quickly the day brightened up outside.

"Mr. D," Chiron chimed in, "you'll have to rewind a bit. We missed Apollo's poetry."

"Oh, no. I must've forgot after watching it earlier."

Twirling a finger in the air, Mr. D replayed Apollo's fall for a few good seconds. Then he started the video at the real beginning. Despite how things had gone with Ak and Cabin Eleven, Eithne thought camp might not be so bad if she got to make fun of idiots like this.