Deep Water, Percy Jackson

MISTAKE FOUR: I Befriended The Son Of Poseidon

The Greek word for glory is kleos. Well, really, kleos has lots of meanings —— glory, legacy, fame. But the concept boils down to one thing. Victory.

In the old days, everything anyone ever did was for the purpose of claiming kleos. It was like currency in Ancient Greece. You had to be the best, to be a champion, to be noble and a warrior and glorious. Having kleos was a hero's compensation for an untimely death. So, naturally, competition at Camp Half-Blood ran deep. It was ingrained into our DNA, our culture, our lives. Everything we did was a competition. Someone always had to be the best —— and if it wasn't you, why were you even playing?

Athenian kids, in particular, took competition very seriously. They all had a very deep need to be winning at absolutely everything, and would do anything in their power to make it happen. That was one of the biggest differences between Athena and Ares. They were both gods of war, but where Ares was about the fight, the brutality and the spontaneity, Athena cared for the organisation, the certainty, the strategy.

So, naturally, on Friday morning, cabin six called a meeting.

It was a struggle, to cram us all into their cabin. It was one of the biggest, which was nice, but still it felt that there wasn't any air to breathe, no space to move. Percy, Luke, Annabeth and I sat on her bunk, squished together like sardines. The two oldest Athena campers stood at one of the whiteboards, explaining the plan.

"We will not lose this time," Quinn Andrews, the Athena camp counsellor, declared, "We cannot let Clarisse win again. We have a full team, so there is no excuse for failure."

Quinn was a lot like Annabeth, really. They had the same proud posture, the same sharp grey eyes. Quinn was calmer, though, more mellow. She didn't care for quests, was happy to stay here and be camp counselor for as long as she was needed. Anyone with any question to ask would go to Quinn. I'd never known another Athena counselor. Quinn was nearly eighteen, and she'd been doing the same thing since she was eleven. I wondered if she'd ever get bored of it.

Her younger brother, Rowan, was a lot less agreeable. He'd spent too long hanging around their dad's mansion, and it'd made him pig-headed. It was a marvel how they were full blood relatives, really. They couldn't be more different from each other. Beside her, he nodded, a determined set to his jaw. I'd seen Annabeth wear the same face hundreds of times. I wondered if it was genetic, if it was the same face their mother wore when she devised battle plans. "With the rest of cabin six, we have come up with a plan we believe will give us the best shot at victory."

"Apollo cabin," Quinn said, gaze raking over the children of the sun. She shoved a few strands of red hair away from her eyes and tapped a point on the whiteboard. She'd diagrammed the layout of the woods, and where each flag would be. "You will be in two groups here, around the edges of the trees. If you see or hear any Ares campers, you will shoot. Some of you, the slowest and the weakest swordsmen, should be higher up, in the trees themselves, to get a clearer shot. The rest should stay on the ground, in the event that you need to move."

Rowan nodded. "Athena campers will be scattered throughout the forest in groups of two or three. Stay as spread out as possible, to cover more ground. Quinn and I will be defending the flag." Hushed chatter started up as Athena campers arranged groups, selecting partners based on best-suited strength. Quinn raised a hand, and silence fell back upon the room.

Beside me, Luke raised an eyebrow. "Need to teach cabin eleven that trick."

"You'd have to be a child of Hecate to get Connor and Travis to shut up," I whispered back, and he chuckled.

Percy leant over. "Or Katie Gardiner."

I didn't know what they'd done this time, but with the way they'd been parading around with tomato vines like leis around their throats, I could only imagine it was bad. Katie's patience was wearing thin with them. I didn't know why she was so often the target of their misdemeanours, but I didn't envy her. My half brothers were menaces. For the morning, though, they'd been pretty quiet. Every time they opened their mouths to say something undoubtedly stupid, the vines twisted a little tighter.