Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

003, peter johnson is here (?)

CHAPTER      THREE
PERSEUS JACKSON

₊࿐࿔✸⋆｡° ⚘༉ . ⊹ 

Percy wasn't scared of ghosts, which was lucky. Half the people in camp were dead.

Shimmering purple warriors stood outside the armory, polishing ethereal swords. Others hung out in front of the barracks. A ghostly boy chased a ghostly dog down the street. And at the stables, a big glowing red dude with the head of a wolf guarded a herd of... Were those unicorns?

None of the campers paid the ghosts much attention, but as Percy's entourage walked by—with Reyna in the lead, Frank and Hazel on either side of Percy, and Finley slugging behind them all—all the spirits stopped what they were doing and stared at Percy. A few looked angry. The little ghost boy shrieked something like "Greggus!" and turned invisible.

Percy wished he could turn invisible too. After weeks on his own, all this attention made him uneasy. He stayed between Hazel and Frank and tried to look inconspicuous.

"Am I seeing things?" he asked. "Or are those—"

"Ghosts?" Hazel turned. She had startling eyes, like fourteen-karat gold. "They're Lares. House gods."

Finley wiggled her fingers over Percy's shoulder. "Spoooky, right?"

"Now now, Finley," Hazel sighed.

"Romans are no fun," she grumbled, retracting herself.

"You're Roman," Frank pointed out. He'd removed his helmet, revealing a babyish face that didn't go with his military haircut or his big burly frame. He looked like a toddler who'd taken steroids and joined the Marines.

"Unfortunately."

"Wait," said Percy, "I don't get the 'house gods' thing. Like... smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?"

"They're ancestral spirits," Frank explained. "The Lares are kind of like mascots. Mostly they're harmless—don't let Finley scare you—but I've never seen them so agitated."

"They're staring at me," Percy said. "That ghost killed called me Greggus. My name isn't Greg."

Percy heard Finley stumble from behind, and glanced to see her somehow steady herself. Like usual, she was unphased and smiling easily. "I like you, Peter Johnson. We're gonna keep you."

"Peter John—" Percy's face screwed up, repulsed. There were flashes in his mind that made his head hurt, so he shook them away before the throbbing blindsided him. Still, Finley's words peeved him greatly. "Your godly parent is Dionysus."

Finley raised an eyebrow, expression still light. 

"Maybe there is a reason they call you graecus. We're Roman over here, buddy. Dad's Bacchus."