𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 - 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒐𝒄

.•°*¯'*¤° 𝑻𝑾𝑶 °¤*'¯*°•.

Percy and Phoenix caught a taxi to take them to camp.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Phoenix was upset but she didn't really know why. She didn't have anything to be mad about. Her plans got cancelled but it was for a good cause.

She played with the beads on the bracelet she wore on her wrist as she sat next to Percy.

He cleared his throat, "So uh, any word on Luke?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters, Annabeth didn't dare go close, but I don't think Luke is up there. I think we would know if he was."

"What about Grover?"

"He's at camp," she said. "We'll see him today."

"Did he have any luck? I mean, with the search for Pan?"

"You'll see," she said not tearing her eyes off her bracelet. But she didn't explain.

Percy used the taxi driver's phone to call his mom

Half-bloods try not to use phones if they can avoid it, because broadcasting their voices is like sending up a flare to the monsters: Here I am! Please eat me now!

But Percy figured this call was important. He left a message on his home voice mail, trying to explain what had happened at Goode. He probably didn't do a very good job. He told his mom he was fine, she shouldn't worry, but he was going to stay at camp until things cooled down. He asked her to tell Paul Blofis he was sorry.

They rode in silence after that. The city melted away until they were off the expressway and rolling through the countryside of northern Long Island, past orchards and wineries and fresh produce stands.

Phoenix caught Percy staring at Rachel's phone number the whole ride. Which also made her upset. Leaning her head back and staring out the window, she sighed to herself. She knew Annabeth and Silena's words were true, she did like Percy. But obviously he had an eye for Rachel. It was crystal clear her and Percy were just friends.

The taxi exited on Route 25A. They headed through the woods along the North Shore until a low ridge of hills appeared on our left. Phoenix told the driver to pull over on Farm Road 3.141, at the base of Half-Blood Hill.

The driver frowned. "There ain't nothing here, miss. You sure you want out?"

"Yes, please," Phoenix handed him a roll of mortal cash, and the driver decided not to argue.

The two hiked to the crest of the hill. The young guardian dragon was dozing, coiled around the pine tree, but he lifted his coppery head as they approached and let Phoenix scratch under his chin. Steam hissed out his nostrils like from a teakettle, and he went cross-eyed with pleasure.

"Hey, Peleus," Phoenix said. "Keeping everything safe?"

Above his head, on the lowest branch of the pine tree, the Golden Fleece shimmered, its magic protecting the camp's borders from invasion. The dragon seemed relaxed, like everything was okay. Below us, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful- green fields, forest, shiny white Greek buildings. The four-story farmhouse we called the Big House sat proudly in the midst of the strawberry fields. To the north, past the beach, the Long Island Sound glittered in the sunlight. Still...something felt wrong. There was tension in the air, as if the hill itself were holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.

They walked down into the valley and found the summer session in full swing. Most of the campers had arrived last Friday, so Percy already felt out of it. The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swooping over the woods on their pegasi.