Book 1 - The Constriction in Breathing Air

Chapter 6

The next day, Percy was followed by whispers and wary eyes into Cabin Three.

The cabin was long and low, with marble sea blue and gold walls like waves. The door led down three steps to a wide open area with only one dresser, one desk, one nightstand, and one bed with purple sheets and deep blue covers, all made of dark wood. It was almost as if it had all appeared overnight.

It probably had.

The floor felt like sand, funnily enough, though nothing moved when he kicked it. There was a large stone fountain in the back center, the water bubbling playfully, and large windows faced the lake behind the cabin. Half-shell lights were on the walls.

In the center connected to the fountain was a large and deep pool built into the floor, the water crystal-clear but salty. Percy peered down into it and watched a few fish playfully swim around the coral-covered bottom.

He pushed the bed into the corner closest to the door, parallel to where the pool started, and dropped his bag onto the desk he pulled to be perpendicular to the bed and next to the nightstand. The dresser he pulled next to the desk, forming a little bubble in the big room. The Minotaur horn he got back in trade was placed on it until he could find a proper stand.

Chiron had explained that since he was the only occupant, he was the head counselor by default. He was in charge of himself, essentially.

It was equal parts wonderful and awful.

His own space was appreciated, but he despised being looked at in the corner of people's eyes. They whispered about him behind his back, refused to let him participate in activities with them, and on several occasions just wouldn't talk to him.

Even with Annabeth, Luke, Katie, Grover, and some of the Apollo kids not avoiding him, it was becoming too much.

He was starting to wonder if maybe he should risk his chances out of camp. He obviously wasn't safe there, as the hellhound had proven, so it wouldn't matter where he was.

The only thing stopping him was the comforting smell of sea-salt caramel. And the fact that anytime he got the idea in his head, Dionysus would somehow catch wind of it and glare at him.

Like now.

He sighed, looking at the god in exasperation.

Couldn't even eat and plot in peace.

He approached the fire.

Father, a blueberry muffin. Sea-salt taffy.

Hades, a blueberry bagel. Pomegranates.

Hermes, a bunch of grapes. Strawberries.

Then, he locked eyes with Dionysus and thought, why not?

He dumped the rest of his plate.

"Lady Ariadne," he whispered, and the air was soft with surprised and carefully-picked thread, "please get your husband to stop glaring at me, I've done nothing wrong ever in my life."

He bolted from the dining pavilion afterwards, cackling as Dionysus yelped for some reason or another.

He'd probably pay for that later. Or not, considering Dionysus loved his wife and adored when she visited, according to Grover. Guess he'll see.

The common area was empty of anyone, even the goddess that liked to grace their fire pit. Percy gave one look to the oddly darkening sky before he ducked into his home and prepared for bed.

That night, he suffered from one of the worst visions yet.

The majestic blue horse and white eagle were back, grappling with each other, fighting. The black dog was watching from farther away again, hidden in the shadows casted by the sandy hills. Wind blew in every direction, the water crashed down on the beach like a terrible symphony.