Forgotten memories

War meeting. With Cocoa

The first thing that hit me when we arrived back at camp wasn't the sight of the cabins glinting in the afternoon sun, or the familiar smell of strawberries drifting from the fields. No, it was Christine.

More specifically, Christine slamming into me like a freight train and practically squeezing the life out of me. Her arms locked around me in what could only be described as a bear hug of death, and I swear I heard my ribs pop.

"C-can't... breathe..." I croaked, tapping her shoulder like I was in a wrestling match and needed a timeout.

Christine finally let go, stepping back with an embarrassed laugh. "Oh my gods, sorry! I just—oh, I can't believe you're actually here!"

She looked exactly like I remembered: jeans, an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, her dark hair braided neatly down one shoulder. Her storm-gray eyes, though... they looked sharper, more intense than usual. She was smiling—beaming even—but there was something else there, something buried under the excitement. A flicker of worry, like a shadow on a sunny day.

"Uh... is everything okay?" I asked cautiously as we started walking deeper into camp, side by side.

Christine nodded way too fast. "Yeah. Totally fine. Just... missed you, that's all. You were supposed to be here a week ago." Her tone shifted, and she shot me an irritated look that could probably melt celestial bronze.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I was out doing hunter business."

That made her stop dead in her tracks. Her jaw practically hit the dirt. "Excuse me—what? Since when do you do that? Where? And why?!"

The questions came flying out like arrows, so fast I half-expected her to whip out a notepad and start taking notes. By the time we reached the steps of the Big House, she was still staring at me like I'd grown an extra head.

"Since about two weeks ago," I said casually, trying to make it sound like this wasn't a big deal. "Can't tell you that... and also can't tell you that."

Christine narrowed her eyes like she was trying to read my soul. "Okay, is there anything you can tell me?"

I frowned, thinking for a second. "Well... the mummy oracle isn't as bad as it sounds compared to..." My words trailed off, and I bit my tongue before I said too much. Yeah, probably not the time to drop that little bomb.

Instead, I let my eyes wander around camp—and that's when I noticed it. Something was off. The camp didn't feel the same. Normally there'd be laughter from the volleyball courts, the clang of swords from the arena, campers running around without a care in the world. But now... everything was muted. People walked in groups, whispering to each other, their faces pale and tense, like they were waiting for something bad to happen.

And then it hit me like a celestial bronze brick to the face.

Percy and Beckendorf. The mission. The Princess Andromeda.

They were supposed to blow up that cursed cruise ship. Two days ago. Which meant by now...

"Christine," I said slowly, turning to her. "Where's Percy?"

Her face fell. For the first time since I got here, she didn't meet my eyes. She just sighed, and that was all the answer I needed.

"They haven't come back yet."

My stomach dropped straight to the floor. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but before I could, a voice split through the air.

"PERCY!"

It came from the shoreline—a scream of panic and relief all wrapped into one. And of course, it was a voice I recognized immediately. Connor Stoll.

By the time we reached the dining pavilion, Percy was standing there, dripping wet and looking like he'd just been through Tartarus and back. But it wasn't the water that worried me—it was his expression. He looked hollow, like someone had punched a hole straight through him. And Beckendorf? Nowhere in sight.