"Just write a book" they said. "It'll be easy," they said, "Everyone gets published these days." Yeah, well, it's a little harder when your editors are gods that will turn you into a gecko and use you as a ping pong ball if you don't write them exac...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I WAS RELIEVED TO SEE ANNABETH HAD GRABBED MY SLINGSHOT AND AMMO. It was a bit of a weird weapon, the passion project of some past demigod, so they weren't likely have a second one sitting around.
Before we found Annabeth, I tried to explain the whole "demigod" thing to Pat. It was hard, since we were also attempting to dodge the ambulances, police cars, and firetrucks that were flooding towards the school. He seemed to be taking it well. It helped that he found the whole idea really cool, even after he'd almost died, so he was happy to accept the idea.
At the same time, Pat explained what the headmaster had meant by "again." Apparently he'd been kicked out of his old school because he'd blown up his dorm room.
"I didn't blow it up," he insisted. "Trust me. It was just...my roommate got tired of me and locked me in a closet. It got hot, and I couldn't breath, and then..."
Pat made an explosion with his hand. He knitted his brows and scowled in front of us. It was a sign of powers, I noted. Already I was trying to figure out who his godly parent was. My first guesses were Hermes and Athena, because he was quick and clever, but that didn't sound like either of them...
"It was the air, I think, but that's sort of insane so..."
Well. I really hoped that wasn't what I thought it meant.
That was about when Annabeth pulled us into an alleyway. She handed me my weapon and we dropped the subject until we were somewhere safer. Maybe Pat would get the introduction video, and he could tell me what happened in it (I've since seen it, and I can confirm it has earned its infamy.)
"Where'd you find him?" Annabeth demanded, pointing at Tyson.
"I don't know, our school?" I snapped.
Listen, I was happy to see Annabeth. She was one of my few friends, one of the people I had really been looking forwards to seeing when I arrived at Camp Half-Blood. But I didn't like the way she was talking about Tyson. He was also our friend. Despite knowing nothing about what was happening, Tyson had jumped in to save our lives multiple times. So why was Annabeth glaring at him like he was pure evil?
"He's our friend," Percy said, defensively.
Annabeth asked. "Is he homeless?"
"What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?"
"He can talk?"
Pat let out a low whistle, as if even he knew that was a little too far. Looking back, Annabeth did sound confused. At the time, though, I was fuming. Her tone hit a sore spot, the one rubbed raw by people treating Tyson like he was too stupid to be a full human being.
