The Third Camp

Chapter thirty five: Neptuna

“You need to leave.” One healer told me.
I was sick of every healer telling me that, but I wasn’t getting up anytime soon. Alivia had just left, and I promised myself that I would ask her a few questions when she came back.
When she walked back in the clinic her eyes immediately rested on me. When Alivia realised that I was looking at her she quickly redirected her gaze to her combat boots.
“Alivia.” I said. “Can I speak with you please?”
“U-uh, sure?”
I lead her outside and eyed her.
“Why aren’t you meeting my gaze?”
“Uh, no reason.”
“There’s always a reason for both hesitation in words and not looking a person in the eyes.”
“Not always, daughter of the sea god.”
“Okay, full title is not necessary, daughter of Apollo.”
A flush of sadness overcame Alivia’s face.
“I-I’m not a daughter of Apollo…”
“All healers are children of Apollo… aren’t they?”
“I-I h-have to g-go.” She stuttered then ran off before I could stop her.
I stormed into my cabin, threw off my shoes then jumped into bed.
“Wow, water girl’s angry.” Liza laughed.
“Shouldn’t you be plotting another sad attempt to take away the praetor’s power?” I snapped.
“Hey! No fights in the cabin!” Doleo yelled at us.
I huffed then punched the wall.
“Don’t hurt the wall.” Liza laughed as she lay in her bed.
“Or your hand!” Someone else mumbled.
“Class in ten minutes!” Doleo announced.
“Ugh, not Natalie again.” I groaned, remembering the last time we met.
“No, not her.”
“Then who?” I asked, sitting up so that I could see her sitting on the exercise equipment.
“Ricky, you haven’t met him yet.” She shook my question off.
In what felt like an amazing few seconds of just laying there while conversations were surrounding me, Doleo stood up and announced that it was time to go to our next class.
We approached the building. It looked extremely worn and old. Inside was even worse, holes in the walls and ceiling, a musty smell in the air and almost everything was covered in dust.
An old man sat at a desk waiting for us.
“Sit wherever you like, children.” The old man instructed us.
“Suckers.” Doleo murmured then turned to leave.
I sat in the very back so that no one could see me. I had to wipe the dust off of my seat before sitting down, but flopped into the old chair none the less. A cloud of dust poofed up around me and settled onto the ground.
“Welcome everyone to History.” Ricky started. I smiled. I loved history, apparently. “My name is Ricky so you can all call me Ricky. For the next few weeks we’ll be learning about the history of the Gods, a week each for the major gods and a day each for the minor gods.” The old man continued on, “Now you may be asking yourselves whether we will be doing Greek or Roman. Because we have Greek and Roman demigods we will be doing both.”
A girl’s hand shot into the air.
“Yes?”
“But sir, there aren’t enough days in the summer to do all of the minor gods!”
“I only teach what I feel will be needed in your future.”
“But that’s idiotic!”
“It’s worked for the past fifty years so let’s hope it still works.”
Then Ricky turned away from the girl and faced the room.
“Time,” He announced, “For a pop quiz.”
His announcement was greeted by most people yelling and moaning and groaning. I smiled.
“Everyone stand up and face toward me.”
Everyone did so.
“If you can understand me move toward this side of the room and sit down.” Ricky lifted his right arm.
Only a few people walked over to my side of the room.
“Hic motus est.” He lifted his left arm.
A few more people moved over to that side, Ricky clapped.
“These are your new seats. Throughout the year you may move seats but you must stay on that side of the room. Does anyone know why I put everyone on separate sides of the room?”
A girl raised her hand and Ricky nodded toward her. “Because fights regularly break out between Greek and Roman demigods.”
“Yes, but also to teach you all a lesson.”
“Why is there no one in the middle?” I asked without raising my hand.
“That’s the lesson for today!” Ricky grinned.
Ricky got up, walked over to the ancient chalk board and spun it around. On the other side was lots and lots of writing.
“Though it is extremely rare, a demigod can be both Greek and Roman. It’s as rare as getting hit by a lightning bolt, then hit by a meteor, then being rescued by a White Peacock riding a Albino Humpback Whale.” He eyed all of us then glanced down at his watch, “Good gods is that the time already? It’s time to leave! But before you all go I have a assignment for you all to complete.”
Homework? No way. I’ve never heard of getting homework at camp before.
Hang on— What?
“I want everyone to go up to the praetor separately and ask him if he is Greek or Roman then write down his answer on this paper, now come on up here and grab one. Remember: No cheating!”
At that moment something sparked in my mind. Thank the gods for logic. According to the topic of conversation from before—That there are both Roman and Greek demigods and that there are some that are both—Carrie is probably both. But how was that even possible?

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