LOVE THE WAY YOU LIE . . . pjo

XVII.

ON THE SURFACE, things didn't look all that different in Camp Half-Blood. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley — the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins — a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different Olympian god.

But there was an air of danger now. You could tell something was wrong. Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.

As they made their way to the Big House, Mia recognized a lot of kids from last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." Some did double takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties — running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. The camp felt like a military school. And if there was one thing Mia despised, it was military schools.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw.

"Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The stables for pegasi," Mia said. "The winged horses."

"Whasthat!"

"Uh . . . those are the washrooms."

"Whasthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabin — that brown one over there — until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your father or mother's group."

He looked at Mia in awe. "You . . . have a cabin?"

"No, I live in the Hermes cabin," Mia glanced at the Hermes cabin. "Cabin 11. My mother hasn't claimed me yet, so I stay in there until she does."

Sweet-talk. Silver tongue. She'd always been good at lying, so much so that they slid from her lips as if she'd learned how to do it her entire life — which she had.

When her mother had appeared to her, she'd made her promise to not tell anyone who her mother was — well, except for Sophia, because apparently her mother knew her well enough that she'd known that Mia would tell Sophia immediately. Though now Soph was sworn to secrecy about Mia's mother.

Mia tried not to think about her mother, and she walked faster to catch up to her friends' pace.

When they got to the Big House, they found Chiron the centaur in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags.

As soon as they saw him, Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture.

Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"

Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not . . . leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a second father to her.

Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. And Percy and Mia, my goodness. You've both grown over the year!"

Percy swallowed. "Clarisse said you were . . . you were . . ."

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr. D had to punish someone."