Percy Jackson and The Nameless Deity: Ensemble of Fools

Do-over, courtesy of God, and I Become the Destroyer of the Bathroom this time.

When I finally came to, having drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, I was seated in the comfy deck chair on the porch of the farmhouse. The weather was nice, no storms on the horizon for now, maybe a break in Zeus and my Dad's constant Arguing. My mouth was dry. I felt so parched. On the table next to me sat a glass of nectar, with a bright green straw and a stupid little paper parasol, which I carefully picked up with both hands and sipped on.

It tasted like my mom's blue chocolate chip cookies, as expected. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it.

"Percy," a familiar voice said. "You saved my life. I ... Well, the least I could do was ..." The satyr, dressed in pants and sneakers, obviously trying not to overwhelm me, dropped a shoebox in his lap. "I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

I popped the box open, looking down at the Minotaur horn I had left on the hill, too occupied with Grover. A black-and-white bulls horn with a jagged edge where it had been broken off and a tip splattered with dried blood.

I wordlessly closed the box again and met Grover's gaze. Spoils of war.

"The Minotaur," I said, slowly and deliberately.

"Uh, Percy, it isn't a good idea to name a monster."

'Names have power. I know. But ask me if I care.' I took another sip of the nectar, which made me feel a little better.

"You've been out of it for two days," Grover shifted uncomfortably. "What do you remember?"

I gazed out over the meadow, over groves of trees, a winding stream and acres over strawberries spread out under a clear, blue sky. It was beautiful.

Then I remembered.

I remembered it.

THE NAMELESS DEITY.

It...it meant what it said, didn't it. It wasn't some elaborate bit by a prankster god or something.

I am part of a Primordial Deity, and I was sent back in time.

I then remembered the first thing it told me to alway remember.

With a monotone voice, I began, "A goat on my doorstep, a madman-esque car chase, a bull man, mom..." I trailed off. Even though I knew I'd get her back by the end of the summer, the mere thought of mom in Hades' clutches gave me goosebumps.

No offense to the guy, he seemed reasonable.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffled, "I'm a failure. I'm...I'm the worst satyr in the world." He stomped his foot so hard the sneaker came off. "Oh, Styx!" he mumbled as he struggled to put it back on.

Taking another sip, I said quietly, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was! I was supposed to protect you!"

"Even if I left you in the dust and went to Montauk with mom? I chose to fight that thing because it...took mom."

Grover winced. "But ..."

"And it isn't your fault the car got hit by lightning, right?" Making sure he didn't look my way, I sent a scathing glare skywards. 'Yeah, that was your fault you petty jerk.'

"I..." Grover tried again.

"Not your fault."

"But it's my job! I'm a keeper. At least...I was."

'So, the stupid satyrs or wine god had already blamed Grover for my mistakes. Great going,' he thought bitterly. In true godly fashion. I took another sip, emptying the glass now. That felt better. I was energized and ready to take on the world, a familiar feeling after drinking so much nectar.