Heart of a Traitor

5: Come Alive

DISCLAIMER: The majority of the events in this chapter are from Percy Jackson: The Last Olympian. I changed a few things for story purposes, but have no intention of stealing credit for this work. All rights go to Rick Riordan (the god of fiction).

...

After the day at the beach, we begin to head east. Two days pass with Thalia and Luke wearing solemn expressions before I realize something is up. I ask Thalia about it.

"Luke isn't happy," she tells me, "because I'm making us go to Connecticut."

"Oh." I'm still confused. "What's in Connecticut?"

"His mom," she answers vaguely.

I'm silent.

She must sense that I'm still lost because she adds, "Luke ran away from home two years ago, but he promised his mom he'd come back. So I'm making him keep his promise. He isn't happy with me."

"He's going back for good?" I can't hide the disappointment I'm feeling.

She purses her lips. "Maybe. It's doubtful, though. There's little more Luke hates in his world than his childhood home."

We make it to Connecticut the next day. Luke lived in Westport, a coastal town just a few miles north of the state line. His backyard contained more forest than actual lawn, which made the property feel huge. The white house was two stories and had a rusty swing set under an apple tree. There was a light on in the kitchen.

The four of us hesitated when we found it. None of us tried to look at Luke, not wanting to make him pressured. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his stone-cold expression. Hate turns his blue eyes to ice. I want to reach out to him, to say something that will make him feel better, but I know nothing I do or say or think will make this easier.

We stand in front of the house for several minutes. Finally, Luke moves towards the front porch. I note something strange before we've even made it to the door: the lawn is decorated with gift shop beanbag animals. Hand-sized lions, pigs, and dragons litter the grass. It's impossible to say how long they've been out here.

The porch is decorated with hundreds of wind chimes. It's hardly windy, yet the sound is enough to drive me crazy. How does Luke's mom stand this?

Luke raises his hand to the door, then holds it there. He hesitates for one second, five, ten. Annabeth and I exchange a glance. Should we do something? He must twitch or something, because his knuckles touch the door once. It's enough. Ten seconds later, the door opens.

There's a man standing on the other side. If I was thirty years older, I'd say he's attractive. Almost too attractive to be human. His salt-and-pepper was smooth, a nice backdrop for his blue eyes. Eyes the same shade as Luke's. It's Luke's dad.

"Luke..." His dad gasps, unable to tear his gaze away from his son. How long has it been since they last saw each other?

"Hermes." Thalia gulps. "We came to talk to Mrs. Castellan."

Luke's dad blinks, like he's coming out of a daze. He steps aside and opens the door wide enough to let the four of us inside.

Mrs. Castellan stands in the entrance to the doorway. Her blonde hair is beginning to turn white, sticking up in multiple directions. There's a strange look in her eyes, like she's slightly blind. Thalia tugs Annabeth and I towards the kitchen, leaving Luke and his dad in the living room.

"Mrs. Castellan!" Thalia exclaims in such a cheery voice that it startles me.

"Are you Luke's friends?" She seems reluctant to turn her gaze from her son.