Percy Jackson And The Lightning Thief

My Dinner Goes Up in Smoke

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever I went, camperspointed at me and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they werejust staring at Annabeth, who was still pretty much dripping wet.She showed me a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forgingtheir own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting agiant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actuallyconsisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayedlava and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough.Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to thecabins.'I've got training to do,' Annabeth said flatly. 'Dinner's at seven thirty. Justfollow your cabin to the mess hall.''Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets.''Whatever.''It wasn't my fault.'She looked at me sceptically, and I realized it was my fault. I'd made watershoot out of the bathroom fixtures. I didn't understand how. But the toilets hadresponded to me. I had become one with the plumbing.'You need to talk to the Oracle,' Annabeth said.'Who?''Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron.'I stared into the lake, wishing somebody would give me a straight answer foronce.I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so myheart skipped a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at thebase of the pier, about five metres below. They wore blue jeans and shimmeringgreen T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders asminnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved as if I were a long-lostfriend.I didn't know what else to do. I waved back.'Don't encourage them,' Annabeth warned. 'Naiads are terrible flirts.''Naiads,' I repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. 'That's it. I want to gohome now.'Annabeth frowned. 'Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the onlysafe place on earth for kids like us.''You mean, mentally disturbed kids?''I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human.''Half-human and half-what?''I think you know.'I didn't want to admit it, but I was afraid I did. I felt a tingling in my limbs, asensation I sometimes felt when my mom talked about my dad.'God,' I said. 'Half-god.'Annabeth nodded. 'Your father isn't dead. Percy. He's one of the Olympians.''That's... crazy.''Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ranaround falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you thinkthey've changed their habits in the last few millennia?''But those are just –' I almost said myths again. Then I remembered Chiron'swarning that in two thousand years, I might be considered a myth. 'But if all thekids here are half-gods –''Demigods,' Annabeth said. 'That's the official term. Or half-bloods.''Then who's your dad?'Her hands tightened around the pier railing. I got the feeling I'd justtrespassed on a sensitive subject.'My dad is a professor at West Point,'she said. 'I haven't seen him since I wasvery small. He teaches American history.''He's human.''What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human femaleattractive? How sexist is that?''Who's your mom, then?''Cabin six.''Meaning?'Annabeth straightened. 'Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle.'Okay, I thought. Why not?'And my dad?''Undetermined,' Annabeth said, 'like I told you before. Nobody knows.''Except my mother. She knew.''Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities.''My dad would have. He loved her.'Annabeth gave me a cautious look. She didn't want to burst my bubble.'Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know forsure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes ithappens.''You mean sometimes it doesn't?'Annabeth ran her palm along the rail. 'The gods are busy. They have a lot ofkids and they don't always... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy.They ignore us.'I thought about some of the kids I'd seen in the Hermes cabin, teenagers wholooked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would nevercome. I'd known kids like that at Yancy Academy, shuffled off to boardingschool by rich parents who didn't have the time to deal with them. But godsshould behave better.'So I'm stuck here,' I said. 'That's it? For the rest of my life?''It depends,' Annabeth said. 'Some campers only stay the summer. If you're achild of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. Themonsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summertraining and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it'stoo dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attractmonsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'llignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble – about ten or eleven years old– but after that most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off.A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me,if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they'redemigods. But very, very few are like that.''So monsters can't get in here?'Annabeth shook her head. 'Not unless they're intentionally stocked in thewoods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside.''Why would anybody want to summon a monster?''Practice fights. Practical jokes.''Practical jokes?''The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. Fromthe outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just astrawberry farm.''So... you're a year-rounder?'Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt she pulled a leathernecklace with five clay beads of different colours. It was just like Luke's, exceptAnnabeth's also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring.'I've been here since I was seven,' she said. 'Every August, on the last day ofsummer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longerthan most of the counsellors, and they're all in college.''Why did you come so young?'She twisted the ring on her necklace. 'None of your business.''Oh.' I stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence. 'So... I could justwalk out of here right now if I wanted to?''It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr D's or Chiron's permission. Butthey wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless...''Unless?''You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time...'Her voice trailed off. I could tell from her tone that the last time hadn't gonewell.'Back in the sick room,' I said, 'when you were feeding me that stuff –''Ambrosia.''Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice.'Annabeth's shoulders tensed. 'So you do know something?''Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talkingabout it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like wedidn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?'She clenched her fists. 'I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, butthey won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major.Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal.''You've been to Olympus?''Some of us year-rounders – Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others – wetook a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their bigannual council.''But... how did you get there?''The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. EmpireState Building, special elevator to the six-hundredth floor.' She looked at me likeshe was sure I must know this already. 'You are a New Yorker, right?''Oh, sure.' As far as I knew, there were only a hundred and two floors in theEmpire State Building, but I decided not to point that out.'Right after we visited,' Annabeth continued, 'the weather got weird, as if thegods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking.The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn'treturned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I washoping... I mean – Athena can get along with just about anybody, except forAres. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside fromthat, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something.'I shook my head. I wished I could help her, but I felt too hungry and tired andmentally overloaded to ask any more questions.'I've got to get a quest,' Annabeth muttered to herself. 'I'm not too young. Ifthey would just tell me the problem...'I could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Annabethmust've heard my stomach growl. She told me to go on, she'd catch me later. Ileft her on the pier, tracing her finger across the rail as if drawing a battle plan.Back at cabin eleven, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting fordinner. For the first time, I noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features:sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kidsthat teachers would peg as troublemakers. Thankfully, nobody paid muchattention to me as I walked over to my spot on the floor and plopped down withmy Minotaur horn.The counsellor, Luke, came over. He had the Hermes family resemblance, too.It was marred by that scar on his right cheek, but his smile was intact.'Found you a sleeping bag,' he said. 'And here, I stole you some toiletriesfrom the camp store.'I couldn't tell if he was kidding about the stealing part.I said, 'Thanks.''No prob.' Luke sat next to me, pushed his back against the wall. 'Tough firstday?''I don't belong here,' I said. 'I don't even believe in gods.''Yeah,' he said. 'That's how we all started. Once you start believing in them?It doesn't get any easier.'The bitterness in his voice surprised me, because Luke seemed like a prettyeasygoing guy. He looked like he could handle just about anything.'So your dad is Hermes?' I asked.He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket, and for a second I thought hewas going to gut me, but he just scraped the mud off the sole of his sandal.'Yeah. Hermes.''The wing-footed messenger guy.''That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travellers, merchants, thieves. Anybodywho uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality.Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors.'I figured Luke didn't mean to call me a nobody. He just had a lot on his mind.'You ever meet your dad?' I asked.'Once.'I waited, thinking that if he wanted to tell me, he'd tell me. Apparently, hedidn't. I wondered if the story had anything to do with how he got his scar.Luke looked up and managed a smile. 'Don't worry about it, Percy. Thecampers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're extended family,right? We take care of each other.'He seemed to understand how lost I felt, and I was grateful for that, becausean older guy like him – even if he was a counsellor – should've steered clear ofan uncool middle-schooler like me. But Luke had welcomed me into the cabin.He'd even stolen me some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody haddone for me all day.I decided to ask him my last big question, the one that had been bothering meall afternoon. 'Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me being "Big Three"material. Then Annabeth... twice, she said I might be "the one". She said Ishould talk to the Oracle. What was that all about?'Luke folded his knife. 'I hate prophecies.''What do you mean?'His face twitched around the scar. 'Let's just say I messed things up foreverybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of theHesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's beendying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told herhe already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tellher the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet.She had to wait until... somebody special came to the camp.''Somebody special.''Don't worry about it, kid,' Luke said. 'Annabeth wants to think every newcamper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for. Now, comeon, it's dinnertime.'The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance. Somehow, I knew it was aconch shell, even though I'd never heard one before.Luke yelled, 'Eleven, fall in!'The whole cabin, about twenty of us, filed into the commons yard. We linedup in order of seniority, so of course I was dead last. Campers came from theother cabins, too, except for the three empty cabins at the end, and cabin eight,which had looked normal in the daytime, but was now starting to glow silver asthe sun went down.We marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined us from themeadow. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls came out ofthe woods – and when I say out of the woods, I mean straight out of the woods. Isaw one girl, about nine or ten years old, melt from the side of a maple tree andcome skipping up the hill.In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozenassorted wood nymphs and naiads.At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fireburned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table,covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, butcabin eleven's was way overcrowded. I had to squeeze on to the edge of a benchwith half my butt hanging off.I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr D, a few satyrs and a couple ofplump blond boys who looked just like Mr D. Chiron stood to one side, thepicnic table being way too small for a centaur.Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all withher grey eyes and honey-blonde hair.Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over beinghosed down, because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends.Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, andeverybody fell silent. He raised a glass. 'To the gods!'Everybody else raised their glasses. 'To the gods!'Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples,strawberries, cheese, fresh bread and yes, barbecue! My glass was empty, butLuke said, 'Speak to it. Whatever you want – non-alcoholic, of course.'I said, 'Cherry Coke.'The glass filled with sparkling caramel liquid.Then I had an idea. 'Blue Cherry Coke.'The soda turned a violent shade of cobalt.I took a cautious sip. Perfect.I drank a toast to my mother.She's not gone, I told myself. Not permanently, anyway. She's in theUnderworld. And if that's a real place, then some day...'Here you go, Percy,' Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket.I loaded my plate and was about to take a big bite when I noticed everybodygetting up, carrying their plates towards the fire in the centre of the pavilion. Iwondered if they were going for dessert or something.'Come on,' Luke told me.As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal anddropping it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, thewarmest, most buttery roll.Luke murmured in my ear, 'Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell.''You're kidding.'His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn't help wondering whyan immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food.Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat redgrapes. 'Hermes.'I was next.I wished I knew what god's name to say.Finally, I made a silent plea. Whoever you are, tell me. Please.I scraped a big slice of brisket into the flames.When I caught a whiff of the smoke, I didn't gag.It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and freshbaked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred othergood things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. I could almostbelieve the gods could live off that smoke.When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals,Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention.Mr D got up with a huge sigh. 'Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all youbrats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag isFriday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels.'A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table.'Personally,' Mr D continued, 'I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, Ishould tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson.'Chiron murmured something.'Er, Percy Jackson,' Mr D corrected. 'That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Nowrun along to your silly campfire. Go on.'Everybody cheered. We all headed down towards the amphitheatre, whereApollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and atetoasted marshmallows and joked around, and the funny thing was, I didn't feelthat anyone was staring at me any more. I felt that I was home.Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into astarry sky, the conch horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. Ididn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed on my borrowed sleepingbag.My fingers curled around the Minotaur horn. I thought about my mom, but Ihad good thoughts: her smile, the bedtime stories she would read me when I wasa kid, the way she would tell me not to let the bedbugs bite.When I closed my eyes, I fell asleep instantly.That was my first day at Camp Half-Blood.I wish I'd known how briefly I would get to enjoy my new home.