PHILOXENIA ➸ Percy Jackson¹

δώδεκα

TWELVE—By Moonlight

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They arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaur's travel powers. Lux's companion Dylan talked throughout the whole journey, mainly at her request so she wouldn't fall asleep, and also because Dylan is the kind of centaur who likes to talk. By the time they got to Half-Blood Hill, she knew everything about the history of the Party Ponies, the initiation ritual, and what happened in Orlando in 1993.

Dylan told her all the Party Ponies were anxious to meet Dionysus. They heard he threw the best, wildest parties. But when they got to camp, they were disappointed. The wine god was gathered at Half-Blood Hill with everybody at camp, and no one was in the mood to celebrate.

It had been a hard two weeks for camp. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a Draco Aionius, the smell of soot still lingering in the air. The Big House's rooms were overcrowded with the wounded and every healer that Apollo's Cabin could spare. They have all been working overtime and straining their vocals to perform first aid.  Everyone was weary and battered as they crowded around Thalia's tree.

Lux hopped off Dylan's back and made a beeline for her brother, who was standing next to Lou and Quinn. She tackled him into a hug, causing his knees to buckle.

"I kept my promise," she mumbled.

"You did." Ciaran hadn't had some good sleep in a while. His face was paler than usual, gaunt as though he had no more energy left to spare. But in that moment he smiled, and the shadows left his eyes.

Thalia's pine tree was on its last breath. It seemed to have shrunk in size, making the trunk look like a stick that could snap at any minute, the branches bare except for a few pine needles clinging on. If Clarisse had arrived a minute later, there would be not much left to save.

The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten, shifting from gray 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, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach.

Gradually, the needles on the pine tree turned from brown to green.

Everybody cheered. The transformation was slow, but there was no doubt about the Fleece's magic. It was seeping into the tree, giving it new life and expelling the poison.

Chiron ordered a 24/7 guard duty on the hilltop, at least until he could find an appropriate monster to protect the Fleece. Lux hoped that meant Argus would be rehired soon.

In the meantime, Clarisse was carried on her cabinmates' shoulders down to the amphitheater, where she was honored with a laurel wreath and a lot of celebrating around the campfire.

Nobody gave Annabeth, Percy, or Lux a second look. It was as if they had never left camp. In a way that was the best case scenario. If they admitted the fact that they had snuck out of camp to go on the quest, they'd have to be expelled. But there were subtle acts of acknowledgments here and there—light pats on their backs, as well as knowing smiles and winks thrown their way.

Lux was grateful for their support but she was at her limit. She had sailed through monster-infested waters for two weeks, went against the most infamous Cyclops and got her legs broken in the process, and it was way past her bedtime.

The last of her consciousness left her. Let Clarisse boast of her endeavors. Lux was going to sleep.

─── ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽☼☾.* :☆ﾟ｡ ───