Invisible ― Jason Grace

ii. new friends

EVENING MUSTER WAS NEVER anything special for Camilla. Even with the new recruit joining the legion that night, she doubted tonight would be any different.

She winced in sympathy as Hazel ran down the middle of the legion to reach her place, the eyes of the legion watching with varying expressions of annoyance and amusement. She slipped into her place between Frank and Camilla, just barely making it before Dakota called her name on the roll call.

The new recruit, Percy, was standing off to one side with a few guards, and Hazel's half-brother, Nico di Angelo, joined him. Percy looked pretty uncomfortable, which Camilla understood—she still remembered the terror of being introduced to the legion and waiting with baited breath for someone—anyone—to stand for her. She still had nightmares about the solid twenty seconds of complete and utter silence before Jason stood for her.

Once the Lares settled into their places (a feat in and of itself), Octavian the augur shouted, "Colors!"

The standard-bearers stepped forward. They wore lion-skin capes and held poles decorated with each cohort's emblems. The last to present his standard was Jacob, the legion's eagle bearer. He held a long pole with absolutely nothing on top. The job was meant to be a big honor, but Jacob hated it—for good reason. Even though Reyna insisted on following tradition, every time the eagle-less pole was raised, Camilla could feel the embarrassment rippling through the legion.

Reyna brought her pegasus, Scipio, to a half.

"Romans!" she announced. "You've probably heard about the incursion today. Two gorgons were swept into the river by this newcomer, Percy Jackson. Juno herself guided him here, and proclaimed him a son of Neptune."

Camilla bit her lip against the stupid tears that tried to come to her eyes.

After five years, she should have been over it. She should have accepted the fact that her godly parent—whoever they were—was never going to claim her. But it still stung to see someone be claimed within minutes of arriving at camp.

She felt Hazel tap her arm, giving her roommate a comforting smile. Camilla smiled back, thankful for the gesture.

Some of the kids in the back rows craned their necks to see Percy, like he was a spectacle instead of just a boy. He raised his hand and said a simple, "Hi."

"He seeks to join the legion," Reyna continued. "What do the auguries say?"

"I have read the entrails!" Octavian announced, as if he'd killed a lion with his bare hands rather than simply ripped up some poor stuffed animal. "The auguries are favorable. He is qualified to serve!"

The campers gave a shout: "Ave!" Hail!

Frank was a little late with his "ave," so it came out as a high-pitched echo. The other legionnaires snickered.

Reyna motioned the senior officers forward—one from each cohort. Octavian, as the most senior centurion, turned to Percy.

"Recruit," he asked, "do you have credentials? Letters of reference?"

Camilla remembered this from her own arrival at eleven years old. Some kids brought letters from older demigods in the outside world—adults who were veterans of the camp. Some recruits had rich and famous sponsors. Some were third- or fourth-generation campers. A good letter could get you a position in the better cohorts, sometimes even special jobs like legion messenger, which made you exempt from the grunt work like digging ditches or conjugating Latin verbs.

Percy shifted. "Letters? Um, no."

Octavian wrinkled his nose.

Camilla felt bad for the recruit. She remembered coming to camp with nothing but the tattered clothes on her back. It didn't seem fair that Percy carrying a goddess into camp wasn't enough of a recommendation, but Octavian's family had been sending kids to camp for over a century. He loved making recruits think they were beneath him.