The Sacred Thievery

Chapter V: Camp Half-Blood.

Ever been in a car explosion? Like, in the car when said car blows up? Well, it hurts. At least, I thought they did, because explosions sounded painful to me, but I was too distracted by what I thought was the command for one to think of how much one would hurt.

Arrows flew at the man's command and fell like deadly rain. Close behind us, I saw multiple Stymphalian birds I didn't know were there get shot full of arrows, each one getting a bronze-tipped arrowhead right through the body, and getting turned to dust and feathers.

The last one died with a squawk, and everywhere was silent. I rendered my surroundings; we were right by a large, hilly field, with trees spotting the sidewalks, and grass as green as my eyes growing wildly. But in the area we were in, there were about fifteen kids with orange shirts like Argus' standing on a hill, all armed with bows, and quivers on their backs or at their sides, arrows in them. In front of all of them was a man in a wheelchair.

He has slick brown hair on his head, curling around it, and falling in different directions, glistening as if wet with dew. His goatee is sharp at the bottom, like the point of a dagger, circling his shining white teeth. His eyes were intense, but a warm brown, the eyes of teachers who are nice but get angry when you turn your homework in late. He's wearing an unbuttoned khaki suit jacket, with a black vest under it, covering a white buttoned shirt and a tied red tie. Below that was in a wheelchair, black dress pants and beige suede shoes.

Argus pushed open the door of the van on his side, and walked out. He gestures for us to do the same. As soon as we stepped out of the car, however, the storm stopped. I shifted my head back a little and found that the storm is still going. As I awed at this, I sensed an annoyed glare from all of Argus' eyes and fully exited the car, at which the teacher man smiled warmly, his eyes softening. "Leroy," he said. His voice is the same one that called for the archers to shoot, much calmer now. "You successfully completed your first retrieval mission!"

I remembered how Leroy said that satyrs bring demigods to Camp. So this must have been his first mission. "Chiron!" Leroy responded. "This is Jesse, a daughter of Apollo. I brought her from her school." He waved his hands in front of her, like she was a first place prize on The Price Is Right. "The other one's Timothy."

Chiron's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that? They aren't usually claimed before arriving."

Leroy's lips quivered. I somehow just noticed that he had orange reed pipes hanging from his neck by a thick green string instead of a whistle. "Um, well-"

"I figured it out," I said, saving Leroy from the complication of explaining. "I have clear sight, and I saw a lyre above her head." As I said it, every single kid in the group of archers flinched. Archers, I thought. Apollo's children. Jesse's siblings.

Chiron seemed to stumble over the words he wished to say. "Oh-a mortal. A vision, in fact. We haven't had an orama come to Camp since Rachel, our Oracle." I remembered that Oracles gave prophecies and advice and such to heroes before quests and missions.

"Well, I'm a friend of Jesse. When the birds attacked, I escaped with her. And Argus brought us here," I explained. "It wasn't my idea," I added defensively.

"We'll sort this out later." He turned to Jesse. "Now, before we continue, Jesse, Timothy, something you should know about me."

He seemed to launch out of his wheelchair as if his lower half phased through the seat. Below his waist, the body of a horse, a sleek white stallion's body leapt out majestically, replacing the vanished two legs and shoes. He landed, clopping his gleaming black horseshoes and swishing his dirty blond tail.

"I'm not really in a wheelchair," he explained as Jesse's eyes widened to about half of her face. I simply stared, my eyes transfixed. "I simply use it as a disguise, when in the mortal world or introducing new campers, such as you two. I am Chiron the centaur, the activities director here at Camp Half-Blood."