Percy Jackson And The Lightning Thief

I Become Supreme Lord of the Bathroom

Once I got over the fact that my Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour,though I was careful not to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol inthe Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trustChiron's back end the way I trusted his front.We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. Onepointed to the Minotaur horn I was carrying. Another said, 'That's him.'Most of the campers were older than me. Their satyr friends were bigger thanGrover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts,with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I wasn't normally shy,but the way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they wereexpecting me to do a cartwheel or something.I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realized – fourstoreys tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upmarket seaside resort. I waschecking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught myeye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something hadmoved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I wasbeing watched.'What's up there?' I asked Chiron.He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. 'Just the attic.''Somebody lives there?''No,' he said with finality. 'Not a single living thing.'I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something hadmoved that curtain.'Come along, Percy,' Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced.'Lots to see.'We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushelsof berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurantsand Mount Olympus. 'It pays our expenses,' he explained. 'And the strawberriestake almost no effort.'He said Mr D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazywhen he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr D was restrictedfrom growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs toleave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. Iwondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if hewas still inside the farmhouse, being lectured by Mr D.'Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?' I asked Chiron. 'I mean... hewas a good protector. Really.'Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horse's backlike a saddle. 'Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable.To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as akeeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill.''But he did that!''I might agree with you,' Chiron said. 'But it is not my place to judge.Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they mightnot see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York.Then there's the unfortunate... ah... fate of your mother. And the fact thatGrover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. Thecouncil might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part.'I wanted to protest. None of what had happened was Grover's fault. I also feltreally, really guilty. If I hadn't given Grover the slip at the bus station, he mightnot have got in trouble.'He'll get a second chance, won't he?'Chiron winced. 'I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. Thecouncil was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the firsttime, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before tryingagain. He's still so small for his age...''How old is he?''Oh, twenty-eight.''What! And he's in sixth grade?''Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalentof a middle school student for the past six years.''That's horrible.''Quite,' Chiron agreed. 'At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyrstandards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he wasanxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career...''That's not fair,' I said. 'What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?'Chiron looked away quickly. 'Let's move along, shall we?'But I wasn't quite ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to mewhen Chiron talked about my mother's fate, as if he were intentionally avoidingthe word death. The beginnings of an idea – a tiny, hopeful fire – started formingin my mind.'Chiron,' I said. 'If the gods and Olympus and all that are real...''Yes, child?''Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?'Chiron's expression darkened.'Yes, child.' He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. 'There is a placewhere spirits go after death. But for now... until we know more... I would urgeyou to put that out of your mind.''What do you mean, "until we know more"?''Come, Percy. Let's see the woods.'As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarterof the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been inthere since the Native Americans.Chiron said, 'The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but goarmed.''Stocked with what?' I asked. 'Armed with what?''You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword andshield?''My own –''No,' Chiron said. 'I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do. I'll visitthe armoury later.'I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armoury, but there was toomuch else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, thecanoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), thejavelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where Chiron said theyheld sword and spear fights.'Sword and spear fights?' I asked.'Cabin challenges and all that,' he explained. 'Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes,and there's the mess hall.'Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on ahill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. Nowalls.'What do you do when it rains?' I asked.Chiron looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. 'We still have to eat, don'twe?' I decided to drop the subject.Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in thewoods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in arow on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection ofbuildings I'd ever seen.Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds onthe left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Numbernine had smokestacks like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on thewalls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold,which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. Theyall faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greekstatues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which weremore my speed).In the centre of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was awarm afternoon, the hearth smouldered. A girl about nine years old was tendingthe flames, poking the coals with a stick.The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked likehis-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front.Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doorsshimmered like a holograph, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemedto streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmercolumns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved withimages of peacocks.'Zeus and Hera?' I guessed.'Correct,' Chiron said.'Their cabins look empty.''Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two.'Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for thetwelve Olympians. But why would some be empty?I stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. Theouter walls were of rough grey stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral,as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. Ipeeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, 'Oh, I wouldn't do that!'Before he could pull me back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like thewind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. Therewere six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no signanyone had ever slept there. The place felt so sad and lonely, I was glad whenChiron put his hand on my shoulder and said, 'Come along, Percy.'Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.Number five was bright red – a real nasty paint job, as if the colour had beensplashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. Astuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to followme. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, armwrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest wasa girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL Camp Half-Blood Tshirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on me and gave me an evil sneer.She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much biggerand tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead ofred.I kept walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron's hooves. 'We haven't seen anyother centaurs,' I observed.'No,' said Chiron sadly. 'My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid.You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. Butyou won't see any here.''You said your name was Chiron. Are you really...'He smiled down at me. 'The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules andall that? Yes, Percy, I am.''But, shouldn't you be dead?'Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. 'I honestly don't know aboutshould be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, aeons ago the gods granted mywish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long ashumanity needed me. I gained much from that wish... and I gave up much. ButI'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed.'I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't havemade my Top Ten Things to Wish For list.'Doesn't it ever get boring?''No, no,' he said. 'Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring.''Why depressing?'Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.'Oh, look,' he said. 'Annabeth is waiting for us.'* * *The blonde girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the lastcabin on the left, number eleven.When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinkingabout how much I drooled.I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thoughtmy dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn't even English. Theletters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures oftemples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecturebook.'Annabeth,' Chiron said, 'I have masters' archery class at noon. Would youtake Percy from here?''Yes, sir.''Cabin eleven,' Chiron told me, gesturing towards the doorway. 'Makeyourself at home.'Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer campcabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paintpeeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged polewith two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it...? A caduceus.Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than thenumber of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It lookedlike a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation centre.Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers sawhim they all stood and bowed respectfully.'Well, then,' Chiron said. 'Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner.'He galloped away towards the archery range.I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing any more.They were staring at me, sizing me up. I knew this routine. I'd gone through it atenough schools.'Well?' Annabeth prompted. 'Go on.'So naturally I tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of myself.There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.Annabeth announced, 'Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven.''Regular or undetermined?'somebody asked.I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, 'Undetermined.'Everybody groaned.A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. 'Now, now, campers.That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor,right over there.'The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall andmuscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orangetank top, cutoffs, sandals and a leather necklace with five different-coloured claybeads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar thatran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.'This is Luke,' Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. Iglanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and herexpression hardened again. 'He's your counsellor for now.''For now?' I asked.'You're undetermined,' Luke explained patiently. 'They don't know whatcabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, allvisitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travellers.'I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given me. I had nothing to put thereto mark it as my own, no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag. Just theMinotaur's horn. I thought about setting that down, but then I remembered thatHermes was also the god of thieves.I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, somegrinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pickmy pockets.'How long will I be here?' I asked.'Good question,' Luke said. 'Until you're determined.''How long will that take?'The campers all laughed.'Come on,' Annabeth told me. 'I'll show you the volleyball court.''I've already seen it.''Come on.'She grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside. I could hear the kids of cabineleven laughing behind me.When we were a few metres away, Annabeth said, 'Jackson, you have to dobetter than that.''What?'She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, 'I can't believe I thoughtyou were the one.''What's your problem?' I was getting angry now. 'All I know is, I kill somebull guy –''Don't talk like that!' Annabeth told me. 'You know how many kids at thiscamp wish they'd had your chance?''To get killed?''To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?'I shook my head. 'Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, thesame one in the stories...''Yes.''Then there's only one.''Yes.''And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in thelabyrinth. So...''Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die.''Oh, thanks. That clears it up.''They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while,maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces.Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form.'I thought about Mrs Dodds. 'You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with asword –''The Fu... I mean, your maths teacher. That's right. She's still out there. Youjust made her very, very mad.''How did you know about Mrs Dodds?''You talk in your sleep.''You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?'Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open upand swallow her. 'You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them theKindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all.''Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?' I sounded whiny,even to myself, but right then I didn't care. 'Why do I have to stay in cabineleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty ofempty bunks right over there.'I pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. 'You don't justchoose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or... your parent.'She stared at me, waiting for me to get it.'My mom is Sally Jackson,' I said. 'She works at the candy store in GrandCentral Station. At least, she used to.''I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talkingabout your other parent. Your dad.''He's dead. I never knew him.'Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids.'Your father's not dead, Percy.''How can you say that? You know him?''No, of course not.''Then how can you say –''Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us.''You don't know anything about me.''No?' She raised an eyebrow. 'I bet you moved around from school to school.I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them.''How –''Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too.'I tried to swallow my embarrassment. 'What does that have to do withanything?''Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when youread, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And theADHD – you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefieldreflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems,that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better thana regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them aremonsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are.''You sound like... you went through the same thing?''Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survivedthe Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar.''Ambrosia and nectar.''The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuffwould've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and yourbones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood.'A half-blood.I was reeling with so many questions I didn't know where to start.Then a husky voice yelled, 'Well! A newbie!'I looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering towards us.She had three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her,all wearing camo jackets.'Clarisse,' Annabeth sighed. 'Why don't you go polish your spear orsomething?''Sure, Miss Princess,' the big girl said. 'So I can run you through with itFriday night.''Errete es korakas,' Annabeth said, which I somehow understood was Greekfor "Go to the crows", though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than itsounded. 'You don't stand a chance.''We'll pulverize you,' Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn'tsure she could follow through on the threat. She turned towards me. 'Who's thislittle runt?''Percy Jackson,' Annabeth said, 'meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares.'I blinked. 'Like... the war god?'Clarisse sneered. 'You got a problem with that?''No,' I said, recovering my wits. 'It explains the bad smell.'Clarisse growled. 'We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy.''Percy.''Whatever. Come on, I'll show you.''Clarisse –' Annabeth tried to say.'Stay out of it, wise girl.'Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it, and I didn't really want herhelp. I was the new kid. I had to earn my own rep.I handed Annabeth my Minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before Iknew it, Clarisse had me by the neck and was dragging me towards a cinderblock building that I knew immediately was the bathroom.I was kicking and punching. I'd been in plenty of fights before, but this biggirl Clarisse had hands like iron. She dragged me into the girls' bathroom. Therewas a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other. Itsmelled just like any public bathroom, and I was thinking – as much as I couldthink with Clarisse ripping my hair out – that if this place belonged to the gods,they should've been able to afford classier toilets.Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and I was trying to find the strength I'dused to fight the Minotaur, but it just wasn't there.'Like he's "Big Three" material,' Clarisse said as she pushed me towards oneof the toilets. 'Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was sostupid-looking.'Her friends snickered.Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers.Clarisse bent me over on my knees and started pushing my head towards thetoilet bowl. It reeked like rusted pipes and, well, like what goes into toilets. Istrained to keep my head up. I was looking at the scummy water thinking, I willnot go into that. I won't.Then something happened. I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach. I heard theplumbing rumble, the pipes shudder. Clarisse's grip on my hair loosened. Watershot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over my head, and the next thing Iknew, I was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind me.I turned just as water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight inthe face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her likethe spray from a fire hose, pushing her backwards into a shower stall.She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming towards her. But thenthe other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted themback. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed thecamouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces ofgarbage being washed away.As soon as they were out the door, I felt the tug in my gut lessen, and thewater shut off as quickly as it had started.The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth hadn't been spared. She wasdripping wet, but she hadn't been pushed out the door. She was standing inexactly the same place, staring at me in shock.I looked down and realized I was sitting in the only dry spot in the wholeroom. There was a circle of dry floor around me. I didn't have one drop of wateron my clothes. Nothing.I stood up, my legs shaky.Annabeth said, 'How did you...''I don't know.'We walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in themud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hairwas flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and shesmelled like sewage. She gave me a look of absolute hatred. 'You are dead, newboy. You are totally dead.'I probably should have let it go, but I said, 'You want to gargle with toiletwater again, Clarisse? Close your mouth.'Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her towards cabin five, whilethe other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.Annabeth stared at me. I couldn't tell whether she was just grossed out orangry at me for dousing her.'What?' I demanded. 'What are you thinking?''I'm thinking,'she said, 'that I want you on my team for capture the flag.'