The Trials of Camp Half-Blood

An Uneasy Alliance and an Even Uneasier Confrontation

You ever have one of those days where you're pretty sure the universe is just messing with you? 

Yeah, this was one of those.

The number of demigods still standing was shrinking faster than my confidence in this trial. We had lost more people than I could count. Annabeth, Clarisse, and I were still sticking together, but trust? Let's just say that was in short supply.

Everyone who was still alive had gathered in a small clearing—no fire this time. No one wanted to light up a beacon for monsters or, you know, a possible psycho killer. Tensions were higher than the Empire State Building, and nobody seemed all that interested in buddying up anymore.

Great, just what we need—a demigod Hunger Games. This should go well.

The worst part was, even the alliance we managed to scrape together felt as solid as the cabin made of sand. I kept catching Clarisse shooting daggers at Luke every chance she got. Not literal daggers, though. That would've been too easy.

Clarisse: What are you looking at, Castellan?

Luke: Nothing I'd want to see for longer than a second.

There it is.

The tension was palpable, like a powder keg waiting for someone to light the fuse. And believe me, Clarisse looked more than ready to strike the match. Annabeth and I just shared a look—the kind of look that said, "this could go sideways any second."

But despite all the drama, I couldn't shake the feeling gnawing at my brain. Luke wasn't acting like the cold-blooded murderer I thought he was. I mean, sure, he was sketchy—he had a history of sketchiness—but saving that demigod? That didn't line up with my theory. And now, here we were, joining forces with him to hunt down a killer. Talk about awkward.

Annabeth: We need to stay focused and stop arguing with each other..... The killer's still out there, and we're not going to survive this if we keep second-guessing each other.

Annabeth always knew how to be the voice of reason in a storm of chaos. But this time, I was second-guessing myself. Big time. I didn't trust Luke—he had betrayed us before, and I couldn't forget that—but what if I was wrong? What if he wasn't the one hunting us?

As we moved through the woods, everyone stayed on high alert. There was no more talking—just the sound of our footsteps crunching leaves and twigs. Every now and then, I'd catch someone glancing over their shoulder, checking to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them. It was eerie, being in a group and still feeling so... alone.

By the time we reached a rocky ridge overlooking a valley, I had made up my mind. I needed to confront Luke directly. No more dancing around the issue, no more silent accusations. I needed answers.

Me: Hey, Luke.

He didn't look at me at first, just kept scanning the forest like the demigod ninja he was.

Luke: What, Jackson?

Me: How did you know something was off? I mean, back with that guy we couldn't save. You tried, I'll give you that. But you knew something was wrong. How?

Luke finally turned to face me, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, I thought he was going to tell me to back off. But then, he sighed and shook his head.

Luke: I didn't know, Percy. I guessed. I've been out here long enough to know when things go south, and that situation had 'trap' written all over it. I tried to save him because, believe it or not, I'm not a complete monster.

I studied his face, searching for any sign of deceit. But there was none. He was telling the truth—or at least he believed he was.

Me: And what about everything else? The killings? The traps? You expect me to believe you don't have anything to do with that?

Luke's jaw tightened, and for a split second, I saw a flash of anger in his eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by something that almost looked like... regret?

Luke: I don't expect you to believe me. After what I did, I wouldn't trust me either. But I'm not the one killing demigods. If I was, I wouldn't have saved you back there.

That hit me like a cold bucket of water. I wanted to argue, to accuse him of being the same old Luke who'd betrayed us all. But the truth was, he had saved me.

We were interrupted by the sudden sound of something crashing through the underbrush—a big something. Before I could even process what was happening, Luke was already moving. He shoved me aside just as a dracaena launched itself out of the trees, its two serpent tails snapping at the air like whips.

Me: Oh, great. This again.

Luke drew his sword, deflecting one of the tails as it lashed out at us. I barely had time to get to my feet before the other tail came swinging my way. I ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as it whooshed past my head.

Luke: A little help would be nice!

I didn't need to be told twice. Riptide was in my hand, and I slashed at the dracaena's tail, sending it writhing back in pain. Luke moved in for a quick strike, but the dracaena was faster than either of us expected. It reared up and knocked him flat on his back, its claws digging into the dirt as it prepared to strike.

Me: Luke!

I threw myself at the dracaena, slashing at its scaly chest. It hissed in pain and recoiled, giving Luke enough time to scramble to his feet. Together, we drove it back, our swords moving in perfect sync until, finally, it collapsed to the ground, defeated.

We stood there, panting, covered in dirt and monster blood, staring at each other.

Me: You saved me.

Luke: You're welcome.

It was a simple exchange, but it carried a lot more weight than either of us let on. Luke could've let me die—heck, I half expected him to. But he didn't.

Later that day, as we regrouped with Annabeth and Clarisse, I couldn't stop thinking about Luke. Was he really the killer? Or had I been wrong all along?

Annabeth noticed my silence and gave me a questioning look.

Annabeth: Everything okay?

I glanced at Luke, who was busy sharpening his sword, and then back at Annabeth.

Me: I'm not sure anymore.