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On the surface, things at camp didn't look all that different. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley—the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins—a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different Olympian god.
But there was an air of danger now. You could tell something was wrong. Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.
Somebody *cough Luke cough* had messed with Marlowe's favorite place in the world, and she was ready to murder him for it.
As they made their way to the Big House, nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." Some did double takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties—running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. The camp felt like a military school.
None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. "Whasthat!" he gasped.
"The stables for pegasi," Percy said. "The winged horses."
"Whasthat!"
"Um...those are the toilets."
"Whasthat!"
"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabin—that brown one over there-until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."
He looked at Percy in awe. "You...have a cabin?"
"Number three." Percy pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.
"You live with friends in the cabin?"
"No. No, just me."
"For now," Marlowe muttered, walking slightly ahead of the group. She glanced behind her to see Percy already staring, and scowled, facing forward quickly.
When they got to the Big House, they found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags.
As soon as they saw him, Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture.
Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"
Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not...leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a second father to her.
Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. And Percy, my goodness. You've grown over the year! And Marlowe, always a pleasure to see you."
