The Ever-changing Tides~ (PJOxHP)

1:5

Chapter five: I PLAY PINOCHILE WITH A HORSE

There were still people waking up so the weird title through them for an even bigger loop than normal.

What no one heard though was the quiet snort of laughter hidden behind a magazine from a member of the new group.

I had weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food.

I must've woken up several times, but what I heard and saw made no sense, so I just passed out again. I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blonde hair hovered over me, smirking as she scraped the last bit of the pudding substance from a bowl.

When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

Grover and Sirius looked to Annie with deadpan expressions. The girl could only smile sheepishly and offer a small shrug in return.

Having just woken up from what I can only presume was extreme blood loss I was beyond confused. I managed to croak, "What?"

She looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

Completely overwhelmed, I could only say, "I don't know..."

Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled my mouth with pudding.

"Nearly choked by the way, Wise Girl." "Sorry, Seaweed Brain."

The next time I woke up the girl was gone.

A husky blonde dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He had blue eyes-- at least a dozen of them-- on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

***

When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings, except they were nicer than I was used to. I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that was great, but my mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. I was also painfully aware of the throb my thigh was giving off.

On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.

Still knowing that I need to gain my strength back I slowly reached out for the drink.

"Careful," a familiar voice said.

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD. Just plain old Grover, not the goat boy.

But I knew what I saw the last time I was fully awake. He couldn't hide anything from me any longer.

The man reading a magazine let out a light scoff and mumbled, "Too smart for her own good that one."

"You saved my life," Grover said. "I... well, the least I could do... I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

Reverently, he placed the shoe box in my lap.

Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood.

"The Minotaur," I said.