Slavic Huter [OC PJO Crossover]

CHAPTER 2 - Suprise to be sure, but a welcome one

13th/14th December 2007 

    Situations where one man can silence crowds are known throughout History (mostly football one): Tomaszewski silenced English fans at Wembley in '73, Alaides Ghiggia silenced Maracanã in '50; I, on the other hand, silenced 25 of the deadliest people on the Northeast Atlantic Coast in one sentence: the Hunters looked as if they were wondering how I was still alive, Echoes and Gammas couldn't understand why their commander demoted himself to NCO, and the other five wondered who the hell I am. Artemis, on the other hand, wasn't surprised at all.

     - Sparrowhawk... Much water has flowed in Aliakmon since our last meeting; although as far as I can see — her head jerked at the rank marks on my uniform — you haven't been a sergeant in a while.
- Yes, but this rank is closest to me - for obvious reasons.
- Haply the closest, but certes thy companions art not did suppose to filleth a c'rtain void? - Zoe joined the conversation, having recovered herself from little shock.
-I am offended by your claim that I could be so terrible to them. - I answered half-jokingly, theatrically clutching my heart with both hands.

     At that moment, a black-haired girl dressed as a punk joined the conversation.
- All cool and so on, but there are much more important issues: What happened to Annabeth and who in Hades pants are you?
- And you? Who are you? – asked one of the VIPs: a young girl with olive skin and dark hair, pointing to all the people in the clearing with a wave of her hand. The answer came from Huntresses' Lieutenant.
- A bett'r questioneth, mine own lief, is who is't thou art? Who is't art thy parents?
- Our parents are dead: we're orphans, and school is paid by the bank... - She trailed off as if sensing that none of us believed her. She must have sensed it, because she quickly resumed in a defiant tone.
- What is going on? I'm not lying!
- Thou art half-blood children. - Zoe replied, using such Shakespearean English that Queen Elizabeth herself would be proud of her.
- One of thy parents is a m'rtal and the oth'r is an Olympian.
- An Olympian... you mean an athlete?
- Nay; gods.
- Cool! - The boy, similar to the girl, but younger than her, was happy.
- No! Not great at all, Nico! There is no such thing as "gods"!

     At those words, I flinched—I had heard them many, many, many years ago, in a place I'd rather forget... or at least not mention. The punk girl gently turned to Nico's sister.
- Bianca, I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Trust me: they exist, they are immortal, and when they have children with mortals... well, our lives are full of dangers.
- You mean the girl who fell? - Bianca asked, and at that moment the atmosphere became even colder: as if a little joy had escaped from this world. Artemis quickly took control of the situation.
- Don't give up hope for Annabeth: she's not dead, she's gone.
I stopped listening for a moment to what was going on around me; I thought about the whole duel with the monster. How did the monsters have allies among the mortals? Why, of all the old monsters, had the manticore awakened? And what else can awaken?

     The heated discussion brought me back to reality.
- Camp?
- Camp Half-Blood: where we learn how to survive, and so on.
- Th're is one m're possibility. - I heard Zoe's voice.
- No, there isn't! The punk girl interrupted her. They both started glaring at each other with such fury that I feared I might have to intervene before they were at each other's throats. Artemis beat me to it, she told Zoe to set up camp, asked Bianca to accompany her, and finally turned to me:
- Sparrowhawk, please join us, I need to talk to you about important matters.
- Yes ma'am, I'll just take care of my people. - With that said, I started organizing my squad: Echo 3 was tasked with making contact with the base, while Gamma 1 was tasked with setting up camp and helping the Hunters...if they needed it.

***

     Walking through the camp, a wave of longing and memories swept over me: 12 years had passed, and I could safely say that nothing had changed. The same tents, a pack of wolves patrolling the perimeter of the encampment; Among the Huntresses, many faces were still the same, with one exception: I missed some familiar faces as well as some new ones.
- So you're still alive. - one of the archers separated from the group by the fire and approached me - And we were already taking bets, not if, but when you died. - she jokingly stated.
- Phoebe, you know very well that devils will not take one of their own. - I replied in the same tone - Besides, I'm not "dying" but "gone from the radar for a while." I just haven't had time to walk in the woods so far.
- "Walks in the woods"?
- Or do you prefer the phrase "teen girls trips"?
- Well, you know it's not easy.
- I know, but it's still easier than the summer of '67 in West Virginia.
Phoebe smiled as she thought of those events
- Supposedly still mortals they believe it was Sasquatch...Let them believe: they had better not know what blew up half the buildings in the area.
- At least the Southerners had fun...
- What? Why?
- No, that's nothing... Nevermind.