𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

3

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 at Bombilo's. Percy was eating or rather inhaling the muffin. Dante just flashed him a smile and ordered a black coffee from the two-headed coffee merchant.

Dante sipped on his drink as he watched Percy's gaze linger on a bunch of the younger campers in swimsuits and towels head into the baths. Steam came up through the numerous chimneys of the building. Laughter and watery sounds echoed from inside. As a son of Neptune, Dante could tell he was itching to go take a bath himself.

"Bath house," Dante slipped in the seat next to his, "You look like you're going to start drooling."

"Haven't had a shower in..." Percy trailed off, unsure.

"No offense, but I can tell."

That caused Percy to laugh. Dante figured this guy was okay.

"Taking him to Octavian?" Dante asked Hazel who nodded. She looked queasy, he didn't blame her. Octavian made him queasy too. "Mind if I tag along?"

Dorian had seen Percy in his dreams. That usually meant Percy was someone important.

Dante remembered being ten, clutching Dorian's shaking body while he thrashed in his sleep only to wake up and tell him about a blond boy with blue eyes like Dante's one. Dorian had dreamt about the blond boy toppling a throne and killing a titan.

That vision had come true nine months ago. And it was eight months ago that Jason disappeared.

So yeah, Dante figured his brother knew what he was talking about. He decided to stick with Percy Jackson.

Hazel looked like she wanted to tell him to go away, "Dante, if Reyna—"

"Please? I'll stab Octavian a little bit for you, please?"

Hazel gave in, sighing as she stood up. "Fine."

Once, she had told him he reminded her of her brother. Weird comment, but not far from the truth.

The ambassador of Pluto wasn't well liked by the campers. A fate Dante was suffering currently as well.

Hazel and Frank had joined the camp late, they didn't know about Dante's animosity toward Jason, they didn't know why most of the camp pegged him as Jason's murderer or something just as insane.

Hey, he spent the last six years with the guy. If he wanted to, Dante would have killed him the first chance he got.

As they approached the front gate, the barracks got bigger and nicer. Even the ghosts looked better—with fancier armor and shinier auras. Dante did not usually like to go to the dorms of the fifth or fourth cohort or their baths. But it had been necessary this time.

"You guys are divided into different cabins?" Percy asked.

"Sort of." Hazel ducked as a kid riding a giant eagle swooped overhead. "We have five cohorts of about forty kids each. Each cohort is divided into barracks of ten— like roommates, kind of."

Dante watched Percy do the math in his head. Numbers had never come easy to him, he usually stuck to Roman numerals.

"You're telling me there's two hundred kids at camp?"

"Roughly."

"And all of them are children of the gods? The gods have been busy."

Dante laughed. "Not all of them are children of major gods. There are hundreds of minor Roman gods. Plus, a lot of the campers are legacies— second or third generation. Maybe their parents were demigods. Or their grandparents."