La Vie en Rose // Percy Jackson

iv. percy is offered a quest

The next morning, Chiron moved Percy to cabin three. I imagined it had to be lonely, being the only member of a cabin.

Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but campers were definitely talking about it in hushed tones. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that Percy was the son of the Sea God; and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill him. They could even invade a camp that had always been considered safe.

The other campers steered clear of Percy as much as possible. Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with him after what he'd done to the Ares folks in the woods, so his lessons with Luke became one-on-one.

Annabeth and I still taught Percy Greek in the mornings, but we were distracted. Every time Percy said something, she scowled at him, as if he'd just poked her between the eyes. Whether or not it had something to do with the Poseidon and Athena rivalry I'm not sure.

After lessons, she would walk away muttering to herself: "Quest... Poseidon?... Dirty rotten... Got to make a plan..."

Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill Percy for breaking her magic spear. I mean, you couldn't really blame her for that. She did like that spear.

I made my way back to my cabin, strangely not in the mood for social interaction. Luckily, Valentine, my bunkmate, seemed to notice and fended off any one of our siblings who tried to talk to me.

"You okay?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Not really. Percy doesn't deserve to be shut out. Just because he's a powerful demigod, doesn't mean he should be treated so differently."

"People are scared, Annie. Can you blame them?"

"No, not at all. The hellhound was a terrifying thing to come to camp, but I don't think it was Percy's fault. Too many coincidences are occurring, but I don't think they're all connected. Percy doesn't seem like the guy to bring a monster into camp. But why was it summoned shortly before he was claimed by a god of the Big Three?"

"All good questions. Maybe some rest will help you sort through all that."

"Maybe. Thanks for listening, Val. And for the advice."

"Any time."

That night, Percy and I had our worst dream yet. Of course, I didn't realize it was him at first.

Percy and I were running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind us. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

Percy and I had to stop them. We didn't know why. But the harder we ran, the more the wind blew us back, until we were running in place, our heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, we could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me and Percy with salt.

Percy yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

He finally registered that it was me and we shared a look, wondering why we were having the same dream.

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned our blood to ice.