Invisible ― Jason Grace

xv. camilla learns the truth

THEY STOPPED AT the front porch. A loose ring of campfires glowed in the woods around the house, completely surrounding the property, but the house itself seemed untouched. 

Wind chimes jangled in the night breeze. A wicker chair sat empty, facing the road. Lights shone through the downstairs window. Frank collected a spare key from under stone elephant statue.

He hesitated at the door. 

"What's wrong?" Camilla asked. 

Frank seemed lost in a memory. 

"Frank?" Hazel asked. 

"Ella is nervous," the harpy muttered from her perch on the railing. "The elephant—the elephant is looking at Ella." 

"It'll be fine." Frank's hand was shaking so badly he could barely fit the key in the lock. "Just stay together." 

Inside, the house smelled closed-up and musty. 

They examined the living room, the dining room, the kitchen. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink. 

In the parlor, Buddha statues and Taoist immortals grinned at them like scary clowns. There were large porcelain vases strung with cobwebs. The fireplace was dark and cold. 

Hazel hugged her chest. "Is that—?"

"Yeah," Frank said. "That's it." 

"That's what?" Percy asked. 

Hazel's expression was sympathetic. 

"It's the fireplace," Frank told Percy, which was kind of obvious. "Come on. Let's check upstairs." 

The steps creaked under their feet. They checked Frank's room first. His walls were covered with spelling awards from school, photos of a woman who looked like him—sitting on a Humvee, dressed in a soccer coach uniform; wearing a military dress uniform, her hands on Frank's shoulders. 

"Your mom?" Hazel asked gently. "She's beautiful." 

Frank didn't answer. Camilla wasn't sure he could. 

They checked the other bedrooms. The middle two were empty. A dim light flickered under the last door—Camilla assumed it was Frank's grandmother's room. 

Frank knocked quietly. No one answered. He pushed open the door. An old woman lay in bed, looking gaunt and frail, her white hair spread around her face like a basilisk's crown. A single candle burned on the nightstand. 

"Mars," Frank said.

"Frank?" Hazel whispered. "What do you mean, Mars? Is your grandmother... is she okay?"

Frank glanced at his friends. "You don't see him?" 

"See who?" Percy gripped his sword. "Mars? Where?" 

Frank was quiet for a moment. "Guys, it's... it's nothing. Listen, why don't you take the middle bedrooms?"

"Roofs," Ella said. "Roofs are good for harpies."

"Sure," Frank said. "There's probably food in the kitchen. Would you give me a few minutes alone with my grandmother? I think she—" 

His voice broke. 

Hazel laid her hand on his arm. "Of course, Frank. Come on, guys." 

The three demigods made their way downstairs and into the kitchen. 

Hazel volunteered to make dinner. She found some noodles in the pantry and a sort of cheese sauce. It wasn't a gourmet meal, but Camilla felt like she could eat a whole grocery store aisle. Camilla and Percy tackled the dirty dishes in the sink—it was only right to clean up a little.