A Son Love & Doves

Chapter 3 (19) The Pigeon Menace

Y/n POV

The next few days were just about how you could expect, shit. While everyone else was focused on the chariot races the border patrol still needed to be kept up, and the other counselors's and I managed to work up a schedule.

We got the schedule approved by Mr D. Well I and Silena did. Most of the conselors took after my example and competely ignored Tantalus and went to Mr D for everything.

I think it annoyed the cannibal king, but I didn't care, the fact actually brought joy to me if anything.

Though I think he took his anger out on Percy. But I knew he would have done that anyways.

Speaking of Percy he was actually annoying me. Whenever Tyson wasn't around I could hear him saying 'He's not my real brother!' or 'He’s more like a half-brother on the monstrous side of the family. Like … a half-brother twice removed, or something.'. It got on my nerves that he would reject Tyson purely because he was a cyclops.

I would have 'talked' to Percy about it if I had the time, unfortunately I didn't. Busy with Border Patrol, conselor duties, catching up with sleep, and training.

In other new Silena gave Percy his first lesson with on a pegasus. Explaining to him that their was only one immortal horse named Pegasus, who still wandered free somewhere in the skies, but over the aeons he’d sired a lot of children, none quite so fast or heroic, but all named after the first and greatest.

Appearently Percy, being the son of the sea god, could sort of understand the pegasus. I guess it was becasue his father created the horse and all that.

Tyson had wanted to ride what he called 'chicken ponies' too, but the pegasi got skittish around him. Percy tried to ease the pegasi but it didn't work, and Tyson wound up crying about it.

Lessons continued like normal for people who didn't have any duites to tend too. Percy thrashed the Apollo campers in sword play and they did it to him in archery.

When I did have free time I sometimes joined the dryads and satyrs singing to the pine tree. Well they had me play my guitar, which I was suprised was capatible to any of their magic.

Since it seemed to twist some feeling within me to look at the sick and dying tree being distracted playing my guitar seemed make those feeling drift away.

The dreams of mine still persisted. Though they seemed to be getting weaker. Which did worry me a little, but I kept myself busy instead of thinking about it.

The smell of forest and rain was always clear and I could tell it was there, but ever since the tree was poisioned it was getting fainter and fainter.

The morning of the race was hot and humid. Fog lay low on the ground like sauna steam. Millions of birds were roosting in the trees – fat grey-and-white pigeons, except they didn’t coo like regular pigeons. They made this annoying metallic screeching sound that reminded me of submarine radar.

The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods. Hephaestus’s cabin had used the bronze bulls, which were completely tame since they’d had their heads smashed in, to plough an oval track in a matter of minutes.

There were rows of stone steps for the spectators – Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads and all of the campers who weren’t participating, me and my cabin included. Mr D didn’t show. He never got up before ten o’clock.

"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke his right hand chased a chocolate eclair across the judge’s table. "You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled at us like we were all naughty children. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s’mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!"