Sing, O Muse [Percy Jackson]

seven

IT had only been eighteen months since Clarion and Winnie Jung left the Emerald City. Eighteen months since they left their beloved house on the outskirts of Seattle. Eighteen months was how Winnie liked to phrase it; Clarion thought a year and six months was more accurate. To her, it sounded longer. Months are short, but a year was long. Though she knew it was light, it was hard to remember the shade of purple her room was painted. Maybe it was lavender or lilac, to match the pale blue sheets she made her bed at camp with. Maybe it wasn't even purple.

Sometimes, though she wouldn't admit it even to herself, she couldn't remember the shape of her father's nose. His face was fuzzy, like television static, unless she concentrated. She could remember the blue blanket they sat on under the stars. Sometimes when it was cold they would wrap it around themselves, or he'd bring out mugs of peach green tea. Sometimes she wished he could see the stars at Camp in all their glory, though she hardly thought he deserved to.

An even longer time ago he promised to take her and Winnie to the National Air and Space Museum. She was seven then, and Winnie was five. Clarion didn't think her sister would remember the first time their father showed them Cygnus – the swan constellation. They used a different blanket that day, a soft pink one, because the other was in the wash. Clarion threw a fit because all her good memories were on the blue blanket. Her father gave her a new one: one day, he would take his daughters to the museum, and he would let them stay in the Planetarium as long as they wanted.

Now that she was there, Clarion wished she could be anywhere else. An arrow, each, angled straight between Percy and her eyes. Zoё and Bianca, with matching faces of alarm, examined them, as if deciphering if they were a trick of the light. For the first time, the daughter of Calliope was prey and for a silly moment she considered fighting.

Common sense won, and Clarion's hands instantly flew into the air in surrender. She said a silent prayer to Artemis when the Hunters swiftly aimed for Percy in what must have been telepathic unison. She let out a sigh of relief as the boy stiffened beside her. On the other side of the balcony, a few mortals yelped and ran in the opposite direction.

Zoё's sneer was more terrifying than her silver-tipped arrow, and with both aimed at Percy he should have been wandering the gates of Hades, "You! How dare you show thy face here? You – jackalope!"

There were very few times Zoё's emotions overcame her, but as she looked into the sea-green eyes of the boy there was very little stopping her from decorating his shirt with her silver fletching.

"Clarion?" Thalia's mouth was agape, her face stretched in a comedic look of shock; as the two made eye contact Clarion smiled meekly and quickly examined her shoes, weaving her fingers together. Of all the people Thalia expected to leave Camp, the daughter of Calliope was dead last. Thalia knew she'd be a liability, and she cursed the gods that Clarion Jung, of all people, crashed their quest. She almost would have rathered Winnie. Almost.

"Percy!" Grover bleated, "Thank goodness. A - and Clarion..." once Zoё's scorching glare turned towards the satyr, he blushed violently and corrected, "I mean, um, gosh. You're not supposed to be here."

It was almost embarrassing how sheerly his last sentence was directed only towards the daughter of Calliope, whose cheeks radiated heat. Having only the courage to eye the others through lowered lids, she nudged Percy and raised her eyebrows expectantly. She didn't trust herself to stop speaking once she opened her mouth, especially because her nerves were so intolerable it felt as though her blood was pumping between her ears.

With his hands on his knees, Percy panted, "Luke. He's here."

Clarion's memory of Luke was blurry at best; she met him in passing a few times at Camp – a legend she knew would grace her epics, one day. She never expected him to become the antagonist in her epics, and though she hardly knew the boy it was difficult even for her to comprehend.