Crimson Rivers [1] - Percy jackson

Chapter 20: The Chariot Race Ends with a Bang

We arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaurs’ travel
powers. I rode on Chiron’s back, but we didn’t talk much, especially not about
Kronos. I knew it had been difficult for Chiron to tell me. I didn’t want to push
him with more questions. I mean, I’ve met plenty of embarrassing parents, but Kronos, the evil titan lord who wanted to destroy Western Civilization? Not the
kind of dad you invited to school for career day.

When we got to camp, the centaurs were anxious to meet Dionysus. They’d
heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine
god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-
Blood Hill. The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a Draco Aionius (which as near as I could figure was Latin for ‘really-big-lizard-with-breath-that-blows-stuff-up’).

The Big House’s rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo
cabin, who were the best healers, had been working overtime performing first aid. Everybody looked weary and battered as we crowded around Thalia’s tree. The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten, turning from grey to liquid silver. A cool breeze
rustled in the branches and rippled through the grass, all the way into the valley.

Everything came into sharper focus – the glow of the fireflies down in the
woods, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach. Gradually, the needles on the pine tree started turning from brown to green. Everybody cheered. It was happening slowly, but there could be no doubt – the Fleece’s magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power and expelling the poison.

Chiron ordered a twenty-four/seven guard duty on the hilltop, at least until he could find an appropriate monster to protect the Fleece. He said he’d place an ad in Olympus Weekly right away.
In the meantime, Clarisse was carried on her cabin mates’ shoulders down to
the amphitheatre, where she was honoured with a laurel wreath and a lot of celebrating around the campfire.
Nobody gave Annabeth or me a second look. It was as. if we’d never left. In a
way, I guess that was the best thank-you anyone could give us, because if they
admitted we’d snuck out of camp to do the quest, they’d have to expel us. And,
really, I didn’t want any more attention. It felt good to be just one of the campers
for once.

Later that night, as we were roasting marshmallows and listening to the Stoll
brothers tell us a ghost story about an evil king who was eaten alive by demonic breakfast pastries, Clarisse shoved Percy from behind and whispered in our ears, ‘Just because you were cool one time, Jackson, don’t think you’re off the hook with Ares. I’m still waiting for the right opportunity to pulverize you.’

He gave her a grudging smile. ‘What?’she demanded.

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Just good to be home.’

The next morning, after the party ponies headed back to Florida, Chiron made a
surprise announcement: the chariot races would go ahead as scheduled. We’d all figured they were history now that Tantalus was gone, but completing them did feel like the right thing to do, especially now that Chiron was back and the camp was safe.

Tyson wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting back in a chariot after our first
experience, but he was happy to let me and Percy team up with Annabeth. He would drive, Annabeth and iwould defend, and Tyson would act as our pit crew. While Percy worked  with the horses, Tyson fixed up Athena’s chariot and added a whole bunch of special modifications.

We spent the next two days training like crazy. Annabeth, Percy and I agreed that if we won, the prize of no chores for the rest of the month would be split between their two cabins. Since Athena had more campers, they would get most of the
time off, which was fine by me. I didn’t care about the prize. I just wanted to
win.

The night before the race, Percy and ivstayed late at the stables. I was talking to ourbhorses, giving them one final brushing, when somebody right behind me said, ‘Fine animals, horses. Wish I’d thought of them.’

A middle-aged guy in a postal carrier outfit was leaning against the stable
door. He was slim, with curly black hair under his white pith helmet, and he had a mailbag slung over his shoulder.