𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒𝟑

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘

That afternoon was one of the happiest I'd ever spent at camp, which maybe goes to show, you never know when your world is about to be rocked to pieces.

Grover announced that he'd be able to spend the rest of the summer with us before resuming his quest for Pan. His bosses at the Council of Cloven Elders were so impressed that he hadn't gotten himself killed and had cleared the way for future searchers, that they granted him a two-month furlough and a new set of reed pipes. The only bad news: Grover insisted on playing those pipes all afternoon long, and his musical skills hadn't improved much. He played "YMCA," and the strawberry plants started going crazy, wrapping around our feet like they were trying to strangle us. I guess I couldn't blame them.

Grover told me he could dissolve the empathy link between us, now that we were face to face, but I told him I'd just as soon keep it if that was okay with him. He put down his reed pipes and stared at me. "But, if I get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Percy! You could die!"

"If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come help you again, G-man. I wouldn't have it any other way."

In the end he agreed not to break the link. He went back to playing "YMCA" for the strawberry plants. I didn't need an empathy link with the plants to know how they felt about it.

Later on during archery class, Chiron pulled me aside and told me he'd fixed my problems with Meriwether Prep. The school no longer blamed me for destroying their gymnasium. The police were no longer looking for me.

"How did you manage that?" I asked.

Chiron's eyes twinkled. "I merely suggested that the mortals had seen something different on that day—a furnace explosion that was not your fault."

"You just said that and they bought it?"

"I manipulated the Mist. Some day, when you're ready, I'll show how it's done."

"You mean, I can go back to Meriwether next year?"

Chiron raised his eyebrows. "Oh, no, they've still expelled you. Your headmaster, Mr. Bonsai, said you had—how did he put it?—un-groovy karma that disrupted the school's educational aura. But you're not in any legal trouble, which was a relief to your mother. Oh, and speaking of your mother ..."

He unclipped his cell phone from his quiver and handed it to me. "It's high time you called her."

The worst part was the beginning—the "Percy-Jackson-what-were-you-thinking-do-you-have-any-idea-how-worried-I-was-sneaking-off-to-camp-without-permission-going-on-dangerous-quests-and-scaring-me-half-to-death" part.

But finally she paused to catch her breath. "Oh, I'm just glad you're safe!"

That's the great thing about my mom. She's no good at staying angry. She tries, but it just isn't in her nature.