Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

004, fein fein fein fein

CHAPTER        FOUR
PERSEUS JACKSON

₊࿐࿔✸⋆｡° ⚘༉ . ⊹

On the way out of camp, Hazel bought him an espresso drink and cherry muffin from Bombilo the two-headed coffee merchant. Percy was curious as to why Finley didn't get anything but an empty acrylic cup—even more curious as to why Finley was excited about this.

Percy didn't ask. He inhaled the muffin instead. The coffee was great. Now, Percy thought, if he could just get a shower, a change of clothes, and some sleep, he'd be golden. Maybe even Imperial golden.

He watched a bunch of kids in swimsuits and towels head into a building that had steam coming out of a row of chimneys. Laughter and watery sounds echoed from inside, like it was an indoor pool—Percy's kind of place.

"Bath house," Hazel said.

"Hopefully we'll get you in there before dinner," Finley snorted, after chugging from her cup. Somehow, it wasn't empty anymore. "You stink."

Hazel shot Finley a look, then she shot the same one to Finley's miraculously full cup. "What she means to say, is that you haven't lived until you've had a Roman bath."

Percy sighed with anticipation.

As they approached the front gate, the barracks got bigger and nicer. Even the ghosts looked better—with fancier armor and shinier auras. Percy tried to decipher the banners and symbols hanging in front of the buildings.

"You guys are divided into different cabins?" he asked.

"Sort of." Hazel ducked as a kid riding a giant eagle swooped overhead. "We have five cohorts of about forty kids each. Each cohort is divided into barracks of ten—like roommates, kind of."

Percy had never been great at math, but he tried to multiply. "You're telling me there's two hundred kids at camp?"

"Roughly."

"And all of them are children of the gods? The gods have been busy."

Hazel and Finley laughed, and Finley clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Not all of them are children of major gods, Peter," she explained, though her words were slightly slurred. "There're hundreds of minor Roman gods. And a lot of the campers are legacies."

"Those are second or third generation demigods," Hazel clarified at Finley's lack of context. "Like—maybe their parents were demigods. Or their grandparents."

Percy blinked. "Children of demigods?"

"Why? Does that surprise you?"

Percy wasn't sure. The last few weeks he'd been so worried about surviving day to day. The idea of living long enough to be an adult and have kids of his own—that seemed like an impossible dream.