The Book of History (Discontinued)

Cornelius IV: The Mean Girls Make Us Run Away

Right now, I hate people. Mainly Percy Jackson. He humiliated me in front of a whole crowd of people. I grew up in a ghetto—I should know how to fight a stick like him. But it did give me joy that Beth was also beaten, with two swords.

I was sulking under the shade of a pine tree. It was the same tree that we were greeted with when we came into the camp. The Golden Fleece was dangling above my head, and the dragon, Peleus, still coiled protectively around the trunk. Seeing the familiar sight around me reminded me of when I had to carry my barely conscious friend here. Having grown up in a dangerous suburb, I understood death pretty well—being the son of Hades helps too—but I never knew what it felt like to loose someone you're kinda close to. Sure, I hated basically everyone, but there were some people that I can . . . tolerate.

But what I found strange was the cold feeling in my stomach when I laid Hailey down on the bed in the Big House. It was like a freezing mass swirling around me. Once things started to calm down again and Hailey was stumbling down the hill last night, the cold blanket over me was lifted. Only now did I begin to think that it might have been Hailey's spirit. It's like it was trapped between life and death—she was so far gone that she started to die, yet somehow she hung on and stayed alive in a coma-like state. She seemed pretty good this morning for almost dying yesterday.

I traced my finger along the edge of my blade that hung across my back. Even though I hated Percy, I was thankful that he gave me a good weapon after the class. After exploring all kinds of sharp objects and fitting me up, we found the perfect weapon that was balanced in my hand and seemed to be made for me. It was an Imperial Gold battle axe. It had a pattern on the flat of the blade and its handle was wrapped in smooth black leather. Percy told me that the wielder of one of these things had to be very strong to heft them. By then, I wanted to strangle the guy. Maybe then he would see if I was strong enough.

I looked up to see a herd of winged horses—pegasi, right?—over my head. The lead stallion had a boy on his back and was making different sounds and waving his arms at the horses. Somehow seeming to understand that mess of directions, the horses all flipped in midair. I heard clapping sound from a distance and saw kids staring up at the group of pegasi, marveling at their synchronization and how beautiful they looked.

Staring up at the horses and looking at the camp around me, I wasn't sure if I was ready for this. I still feel like this is a dream—a living paradox. Greek gods? Demigods? Flying horses? Hard to believe. Yet I'm still standing here in this beyond-normal camp, still staring up at the dancing, flying horses. And I still have a Greek god of death as a dad.

Speaking of hard to believe, here comes a raging ball of goddess fury.

A string of curses filled the air in a number of different languages. No, seriously, there were symbols and words floating around, twirling and dancing around innocent demigods. Each word popped as it was spoken and another word took its place. As the voice in the distance got louder and closer, the words got faster and bigger and worse. One symbol in particular popped right in my face, and I had to laugh—that was a word I used all the time. Not going to say it now; children are here.

A whirl of smoke arose from the ground and dispersed in the blink of an eye with a figure standing in the middle of the field. It was Morgana, and she was mad. She started storming over to the Big House. Demigods scrambled to get out of her way. If one was too slow, words started swirling around them, popping in their face and screaming in their ears. And, I will admit, I got scared, because in one corner of the cluster of cabins, a sleepy group of kids emerged from their cabin and watched as Morgana raged. The Hypnos kids. If Morgana could wake them up, anything is possible.

The goddess reached the Big House and stepped up to the door. She said in an eerily calm voice, "Open Sesame" and the door blew off its hinges. She seemed unfazed as she walked inside to find her next victim.