house of cards
❛ iii. bullfighting showdown ❜

━━━━━ IF PERCY WAS confused before, he was lost in the middle of nowhere now.

Outside Ugly Gabe's Camaro, the scenery was a blur of vicious rain, lighting, and rolling thunder. They tore along the dark country roads as Percys' heart hammered in his chest. His chest hurt with fear and pleading desperation — fear and pleading desperation to understand what was going on. To understand why his mother was so scared. To understand what those dreams meant. To understand why Percy's absent father cared so much if he went to some summer camp. To understand why Mrs. Dodds attacked him — and why he was made to feel crazy for knowing she existed. To understand why Grover had furry, donkey hindquarters for legs —

Percy yelped when the car shuddered over a pothole in the road, jolting him upward in his seat. Wind slammed against the Camaro, jarring the car left and right; rain lashed the windshield. He had no idea how his mother could see anything, but she never once slowed down, her foot heavy on the gas pedal. The winding roads seemed to lead nowhere, but she drove as if she knew exactly where they were.

Every time there was a flash of lightning, Percy glanced over at the boy beside him in the backseat. With each glance, Percy wondered if he was truly losing his mind — either that, or Grover was wearing some kind of shag-carpet trousers. There was no way Percy's best friend had donkey legs, right?

But there was a way. Percy could smell the way. Grover smelled like a wet, barnyard animal.

Lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the backseat of the Camaro. Percy took a shuddered breath, the fear had long set in. There was so much he wanted to say — so many questions he wanted to ask. But as they flew down dangerously narrow roads, he could only stomach one question; "So, you and my mom ... know each other?"

Grover's dark eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, as if checking to see if there were cars following them. Just to make sure, Percy looked around — there was nothing, nothing but the dark Long Island that surrounded them. "Not exactly," he finally answered. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay." From the expression on Percy's face, he added hastily, "But I wasn't faking being your friend. I am your friend."

His voice wavered, as if he feared Percy's response. Maybe that fear was valid, because Percy had no idea what to say back. His mind was buzzing worse than a beehive — flooded with questions, reactions, and even more questions. The ADHD didn't help, either. Instead of worrying, and focusing, on trying to figure out why his mom and friend were so scared, Percy's main questions were about why Grover was half donkey.

"Um ..." Percy swallowed the built-up saliva in his mouth, "what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter?" Percy repeated, his voice pitching in shock. "From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey —"

"Blaa-ha-ha!" Percy flinched at the noise, shocked at the volume, sharp and throaty. Grover had made that noise before, but Percy thought it was just a nervous laugh; now, he realized it was more like an irritated bleat. "Goat!"

"What?!"

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter!"

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you under hoof for such an insult!"

Percy threw his hands up, letting go of the small argument — Until he had to take a moment to backtrack and realize what Grover had just said, "Whoa, whoa — wait. Satyrs. You mean like ... Mr. Brunner's myths?"

Grover seemed annoyed that Percy was just realizing this all now. "Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

Percy's jaw dropped. "So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Of course, there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Then why would you and Genna lie —"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover broke in quickly, like it was all obvious and made total sense. (Spoiler: it doesn't make sense!) "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who I — Wait a minute, what do you mean?"

Their conversation screeched to a halt when that weird bellowing noise echoed into the stormy night once again. Percy's breath hitched in his throat when he noticed it was a lot closer than it had been before. Whatever was chasing them was still on their trail.

"Percy," his mom spoke up, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

Percy sat back, trying to wrap his head around what was happening, but it only felt like his skull was on a swivel. Some part of him wanted to still think of this as some drea, but he knew that it wasn't. He had no imagination. He could never dream up something this weird.

He yelped, sliding in his seat, as he mom made a hard left. They swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" he asked, digging his fingers into the faux leather of the Camaro's seats.

"The summer camp I told you about." His mother's voice was tight; she was trying for Percy's sake not to be scared, but he still could hear it. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go."

"Please, dear," she begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

Percy shook his head, the questions rattling around. "Danger? Because some old ladies cut yarn."

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover corrected. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means — the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to —" he stopped, and backtracked "— when someone's about to die."

Percy's eyes widened. "Whoa. You said 'you'."

Grover's eyes widened, too. "No, I didn't," he said quickly. "I said 'someone'."

"No!" Percy argued. "You meant 'you'. As in me."

"No, no —" Grover shook his head, his face scrunched. "I meant you, like 'someone'. Not you, you —"

"That's not what you meant —"

"Boys!" Percy's mother said.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and Percy got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid — a dark fluttering shape now lost behind them in the storm.

"What was that?!"

"We're almost there," his mother said, ignoring Percy's question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

Percy didn't know where there was, but yet, he found himself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting them to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness — the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. He thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. His breath hitched and his limbs went numb with delayed shock ... Mrs. Dodds really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill him.

Then Percy's mind darted to Mr. Brunner and the pen he had thrown Percy — a pen that had turned into a sword. Before he could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of his neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling BOOM!

And their car was flung up into the air.

Percy didn't remember much. He remembered the feeling of lifting off his seat and propelling forward as the car spun. It was like he was turned into something weightless, but that feeling was almost unreal — like he had made it all up.

He peeled his forehead off the back of the driver's seat. "Ow ..." he groaned.

"Percy!" his mom shouted, jarring him from his stupor.

"I'm okay ..." he managed, trying to shake off the daze. He wasn't dead, which he supposed was a positive. They had somehow swerved into a ditch. The driver's-side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof was split open — cracked and splintered, and rain poured in.

Lightning, Percy realized with a chill down his spine. That was the only explanation. They had been blasted right off the road. Another realization hit him, and Percy gasped, turning to where his best friend sat beside him — only there was a motionless lump. "Grover!"

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth and onto his chin. Percy's heart raced with a new terror. Even if his best friend was half-barnyard animal, that doesn't mean he wants Grover dead. Percy pushed his friend hard at his furry hip. "Grover!" he cried. "Come on. Get up!"

Grover groaned, "Food ..." and Percy knew there was hope.

"Percy," his mother said, shaking the daze from her eyes, "we have to ..." Her voice faltered.

Percy looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, he saw a figure lumbering towards them on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made his skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge man, like a football player ... but he was too tall to be a man — bigger than any person Percy had ever seen. With broad shoulders, and what looked to be a blanket over his head, his top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had ... horns.

Percy swallowed hard. "Who is —"

"Percy," his mother cut him off, her tone deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

She threw herself against the driver's door. It was jammed shut in the mud. Percy tried his own — stuck too. He looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" his mother told, growing even more frantic. "Percy — you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?"

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof, Percy saw the tree his mother was talking about — a huge, White House Christmas-tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," his mom said as Percy started shaking with fear. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

Percy didn't understand. His mom wanted him to leave her behind? No way was he doing that. "Mom, you're coming, too."

Her face was pale. Percy's heart fell as Sally looked over at the ocean. Percy's heart got lodged in his throat. "No!" he shouted. "You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover."

"Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder.

The man with the blanket on his head kept coming towards them. The sounds he made were odd — grunting, snorting noises. Not weird to the point of being funny; Percy was terrified — a frozen-in-fear type of terrified. As the huge man got even closer, Percy realized he couldn't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands — two huge meaty hands — were swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head ... was his head. And the points that looked like horns ...

"He doesn't want us," his mother told Percy. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"B-but ..."

"We don't have time, Percy. Go. Please."

Percy clenched his jaw. He got mad — really mad. Mad at his mother, at Grover the goat, at the thing with horns that was lumbering towards the car, slowly and deliberately — like a bull. But Percy only shook his head. He wasn't leaving his mother and Grover behind. He would never leave them behind. He climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain. "I'm not leaving you. We're going together. Come on, Mom."

"I told you —"

"Mom! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover."

Percy didn't wait for her answer. He rushed outside, scrambling across the mud, shattered glass, and wet grass. He then dragged Grover out of the car. He was surprisingly light — but Percy knew he couldn't have carried Grover very far if it wasn't for his mom hadn't helped. Together, they draped Grover's arms over each of their shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, Percy got his first clear look at the monster. The thing was seven feet tall at the very least, looking like he could crush Percy, his mother, and Grover all in one sitting with only his forefinger and thumb. He wore no clothes except underwear — bright white Fruit-of-the-Looms, which would've been funny except for the top half of his body. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders. His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as Percy's arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns — enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener. A monster that was half-man, half-bull.

He recognized the monster, all right. This had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told the class. Percy even remembered the comments Genna made; "A totally horrible advertisement of bulls." She shook her head as if the idea saddened her. Percy thought she was just being snarky — which she was, because she always was — but Percy knew she was right now.

Percy blinked the rain out of his eyes. "That's —"

"Pasiphaë's son," his mother answered for him. But that wasn't what Percy was going to say. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you."

"But a he's the Min —"

"Don't say his name!" his mother cut him off, her voice urgent with warning. "Names have power."

"What does that even mean?!"

The pine tree was still way too far away — a hundred yards uphill at least. Percy glanced over his shoulder again. The Minotaur hunched over their car, looking in the windows — shoving his head and nose up against the exterior body and the leather seats. Percy didn't even know why the monster was even doing that — they were only just fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moaned.

Percy shushed him. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

Percy wondered how his mom knew all of this, but the question on the tip of his tongue dropped to the bottom of his stomach as the Minotaur bellowed with rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

Sally guided Percy and Grover back, wincing at the firestorm that was once Gabe's car.

("Not a scratch ..." Gabe said. Oops?)

"Percy." His mother fixed her grip on Grover, hosting him higher. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way — directly sideways. He can't change direction very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

Percy finally choked out a question; "How do you know all this?"

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."

"Keeping me near you? But —"

Another bellow of rage, and the Minotaur started tromping uphill. The monster had smelled them — and it was probably because of Grover's wet, furry legs.

The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter. The monster was closing in; in only a few seconds, and he'd be on top of them.

Percy's mother must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover by herself. "Go, Percy!" she cried out over the wind. "Separate! Remember what I said."

He didn't want to split up, not at all, but if his mom had been right about the smell, knew about this summer camp, and everything else she knew — she had to be right about this. If they split up, they may have a chance of getting out of this alive. Percy sprinted to the left and turned — the creature bore down on him. His black eyes glowed with hate; they were like a bottom pit of hate. He reeked like rotten meat.

He lowered his head and shook his horns, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at Percy's chest.

Then, the Minotaur charged.

Percy's stomach jolted, jumping with each heavy footfall the monster made. It made him want to bolt, but he knew that would never work. He couldn't outrun this thing, so he held his ground, and at the last moment — Percy leaped to the side.

The bull-man stormed past like a freight train. Percy watched the monster skid to a stop, nearly tripping over his clunky hooves. He roared with frustration, puffs of white smoke popping out of his snotty nostrils. The thing turned, but not towards Percy — towards Percy's mother, who was setting Grover down in the grass.

They had reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side, Percy could see a valley, just as his mother had said. There were lights glowing — the lights of the farmhouse, just like his mother had said, and they flickered at him like spotlights in the rain. That farmhouse was half a mile away; they were never going to make it.

The Minotaur grunted and pawed the ground. It was a wild, terrifying thing to see — a half-man, half-bull that was seven feet tall ready to storm a twelve-year-old kid. But ... it kept eyeing Percy's mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back towards the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run, Percy!" she told him. "I can't go any further. Run!"

But Percy stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she'd told her son to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummelling the air. Percy's heart was back in his throat, and he wanted to scream — but nothing came out as he watched the Minotaur lift his mother into the air.

He barely found his voice, and it was croaky, pleading, and desperate: "Mom!"

She caught Percy's eyes and managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

With an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around Sally Jackson's neck, and she dissolved right before Percy's eyes, melting into light — a shimmering golden form. Then in a blind flash —

She was gone. His mother was gone.

Percy did scream this time. It ripped through his throat, like his heart was gone with his mom. "No!"

Anger replaced his fear. Newfound strength burned in his limbs — the same rush of energy he had gotten when Mrs. Dodds grew talons. The strength swept up inside his chest, to the point it felt like fire was burning in the pits of his lungs. The bull-man bore down on Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling over Percy's best friend, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve into gold too.

Percy couldn't let that happen.

"Hey!" Percy screamed, ripping off his red rainjacket. He threw his hand into the air and waved the jacket over his head, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

The monster spun to face him, heaving furiously.

Percy had an idea — a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. He put his back to the big pine tree and waved his red jacket in front of the Minotaur. The bull-man would charge, and Percy would jump out of the way at the last minute.

The plan went wrong immediately.

The Minotaur charged, but faster than before. He spread his arms out wide, ready to grab Percy whichever direction the boy tried to dodge.

Until ... time slowed down.

Percy's legs tensed. He couldn't jump sideways, so he leaped straight into the air, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, and turning in midair. Percy had no idea what he was doing, how he was doing it, or how it worked — but he landed on the back of the monster's neck. Percy didn't have any time to try and figure it out either, because — a millisecond later — the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked Percy out.

The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake Percy off, but he locked his arms around the monster's horns to keep himself steady. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in Percy's eyes, burning them and making it harder to see. The smell of rotten meat burned his nostrils. The monster shook himself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed up into the tree and smashed Percy flat, but he was starting to realize that this thing had only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. Percy wanted to yell at him to shut up. But with the way Percy was being tossed around, if he opened his jaw, he would surely bite his own tongue off.

"Food!" Grover moaned.

The Minotaur wheeled towards him, and pawed the ground again — he was getting ready to charge. Percy looked at where his mother had been, and the fury returned to him ten-fold. Percy wrapped both hands around one horn and pulled backward with all his might, yelling all the while. Percy had no idea what he was trying to do, and neither did the monster, who tensed, grave a surprised grunt, then —

Snap!

The Minotaur screamed and flung Percy into the air. He yelped as he landed painfully on the grass. His head smacked against a rock, and his vision started to go blurry. When he managed to sit up, he realized he had a horn in his hands. A ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.

He had ripped a horn right off the Minotaur's head.

The monster charged.

Percy didn't think about it. He rolled to one side and skidded onto his knees. As the monster barrelled past, he drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.

The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed. He clawed at his chest, then began to disintegrate — not like the way Sally Jackson in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

And just like that, the Minotaur was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still brewed up in the dark sky, but only in the distance. Percy smelled like livestock and his knees were shaking, and so were his hands and the only remnant left of the Minotaur — a jagged, bloody horn. The lump was back in Percy's throat, making it harder to breathe; his head felt like it was about to split open. He was weak, scared, and trembling with grief. He wanted to lay down and go to sleep, only so he could wake up back at the cabin in Montauk. So all of this could be one, horrifying nightmare.

But Percy couldn't. Despite everything he wanted, this wasn't a dream. Grover was still groaning in the grass, Percy had just killed a monster with his own horn, and his mom ...

Percy glanced at his best friend — Grover still needed help. Percy stumbled to his feet, the world spinning around him as his head screamed with pain, and he managed to haul Grover up and stagger down the valley. Percy stumbled for the lights of the farmhouse, the lights that had been taunting him before. The way was a blur — Percy was crying, calling for his mother, as the wind howled ferociously and thunder rolled above the clouds.

But one thing was for sure — Percy never let go of Grover. He wasn't going to let him go.

The last thing Percy remembered was collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above him, moths flying around a yellow light, and ...

Faces appeared above him — two faces. The stern face of a familiar-looking bearded man and ...

Percy's vision focused, seemingly right as he spotted her. A pretty girl with hair the color of copper, and that made soft waves around her thin face. Her eyes — they looked almost ghoulish in the yellow porch light; they looked as golden as amber. Her skin was sunkissed, maybe even more so than the last time he saw her, and her freckles were just the same — light brown and clustered around her face. He recognized her — Genna Archer.

Genna stared down at him, and the usual expression of mischief was gone. She looked ... stunned. Her breath hitched and she looked up at the stern-looking man. "Grover sent me an I.M.. Said Percy bailed on him in —"

"Silence, Genevieve." The man held up a hand. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

♤

Genna didn't know how Percy was alive. She didn't know how he'd survived — let alone killed — the Minotaur. He even saved Grover's furry behind while doing it, dragging the unconscious satyr onto the front porch of the Big House. That little fact wouldn't go over so well with the Cloven Elders, but Genna always said those elders were full of it — and they were!

She didn't understand how Percy had survived. Or how he suddenly learned how to bullfight, but here he was. Alive. But ... unconscious. He had been out for a whole day, constantly drooling in his sleep. It honestly made Genna a little sick looking at it. Minotaur slayers don't drool in their sleep — yet, here Percy was, drooling.

She wanted him to wake up so she could ask what the hell happened. The night before, Grover suddenly Iris Messaged her, saying Percy had gone AWOL while on the way back into NYC. So she set out in the rain, telling Chiron what Grover told her. Then — there were two loud thunks! and she and Chiron found Grover groaning about food, half unconscious, and Percy, who was just barely still awake, lying there. There was no way they could get information out of them at that point. And with Grover busy dealing with the Elders, and Percy still not awake, Genna was left in the dark. She didn't like that.

All of it made Genna question who his godly parent was. She figured it was a god since Percy had a mortal mom (but that always doesn't count; Kayla Knowles was a daughter of Apollo and still had a mortal dad). To be able to kill the Minotaur, Percy had to be the son of a powerful god. Who was the most powerful god? Zeus. That's who.

Except for the fact that Zeus was one of the Big Three, and they had made a pact — he, Poseidon, and Hades — to never have mortal children again.

Annabeth seemed to be certain that there would be a child of the Big Three coming to Camp soon. All for reasons that either flew over Genna's head, or Annabeth outright refused to say why. (Genna hated when Athena's children would do their whole I'm too smart to explain this to you thing.) But a child of either Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades seemed even more unlikely to happen than Genna to stop skipping out on chores. Besides, the last time there was a child of the Big Three — a daughter of Zeus ... it hadn't ended well. For the daughter of Zeus.

Maybe Percy was the son of Zeus. A son of Zeus could kill the Minotaur. And there had been a lightning storm when Percy stumbled into Camp Half-Blood so maybe ...

Genna's face twisted when a line of drool trailed out of the corner of Percy's mouth. This was so stupid. She pursed her lips and grabbed for the ambrosia that the Apollo kids on infirmary duty had given to her so she could feed some to Percy. Michael gave her a hard look and said, "If you're going to skip out on chores and hide here, you can at least be helpful."

Ambrosia was the food of the gods — that and nectar, which healed demigods whenever they got injured (it happens quite a lot, not-so-surprisingly). Half-blood could only handle ambrosia and nectar in small doses; have too much, and they burn up from the inside out. But Genna risked giving Percy some more, scooping a small portion of the pudding-like consistency, and spoon-feeding it to him. She grimaced when she had to catch it when it only fell out of his mouth.

"Stop drooling, dumbass ..." she muttered through gritted teeth. Never would she have imagined spoon-feeding Percy Jackson some ambrosia. If he wasn't knocked out cold, this would've been a perfect opportunity to tease him. It was always easy to tease him, and it was easy to get a reaction out of him. But — and Genna would never admit this — there was some part of her that was a bit amused.

Perhaps that ambrosia had done the trick, because as soon as Genna pulled the spoon away, Percy's eyes fluttered. She raised her eyebrows, watching with anticipation, to see if this was another fall in and out of conscious trick of his. She watched him as he woke up in a daze, blinking rapidly.

When his green eyes focused on her, she narrowed her own before saying, "You know you drool when you sleep, right? Like ... a lot." It was all she could think to say, all the questions she had lined up to ask him about the Minotaur fight gone.

He stared at her, his mouth agape. "Uh ... what?" he croaked.

"You drool, Percy," she repeated, leaning closer to say it. "Just thought you should know."

He blinked at her, and Genna could tell he wasn't really awake. There was a moment of silence, then —

"You are Genna, right?"

She frowned at him, clearly miffed at the question. She probably should've taken into consideration the fact he had just woken up from unconsciousness — but she didn't. "Of course I'm Genna. You don't seriously think I'm Bobofit, do you?"

He made a face, still looking very dazed. He looked as if Genna had spoken a whole different language to him, as if he didn't know the names Genna and Bobofit. Genna returned the look, still clearly offended that he even asked who she was.

Percy drifted back to sleep after that, and almost immediately, began to drool all over again.

Percy Jackson didn't fully wake up until an entire day later. Luckily, Genna wasn't on feeding the unconscious duty that day, but she did hear about how Annabeth started hounding Percy for answers about the summer solstice from Luke: Argus, Camp Half-Blood's security (he was perfect for the job considering he had eyes all over his body. No really — all over.) caught Annabeth harassing the unconscious and now the daughter of Athena was barred from being in the infirmary until Percy was released for good health (or being released for finally staying awake long enough).

Genna figured she understood where Annabeth was coming from. There were a lot of secrets going around these days — about the summer solstice, a supposed deadline for something, something about an item being stolen (Genna definitely wasn't supposed to know that, but she overheard Chiron and Mr. D talking the night she barged into the Big House after the Minotaur attack), and even about Percy Jackson. And no longer could Genna go and pester Grover, he was too busy with the Elders.

Now nearing the end of May, Camp Half-Blood's summer session was in full swing. It was odd to come in with the summer campers instead of seeing them trickle in, but Genna was glad to be back. The whole of Camp — the sword arena, canoe lake, lava wall, woods, and fields — were all buzzing with energy and campers.

This was Genna's life. Sure, she had a life back in California, but here is where it was home. The orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt and her beaded camp necklace were her home. She grew up here, arriving at age eight. There were few campers who had been here since they were that young — Annabeth was one of them. Most came around the age of eleven or twelve — the age at which monsters started finding half-bloods easier. Most went home for the winter. Unless they were too powerful to be able to head out into the mortal world without having to constantly worry about monster attacks. Or ... they just didn't have a home to go back to.

Genna doesn't know what her mother was up to these days. Or her stepfather and younger half-sister. She told herself it was better that way. Nora and Genna argued so much it wasn't like Genna even enjoyed living with them. Besides, after what happened, there was no way Nora and Vance, Genna's stepfather, would want her back and around Abbie, her half-sister. Genna endangered them because of her father. She does remember the monster attacks, the fighting, and then the growing monster attacks. The blinding light; the explosion. And then the realization there was no Archer home to go back to.

Sometimes, the urge to try and find her mortal family ate away at Genna, but she never tried. She became too scared to try. She was still too angry to want to see Nora again. But mostly fear — fear of what happened (for what she could remember, at least) happening again. And that was hoping Genna's mortal family even got out ...

It all happened when Genna was eight, leaving her stranded in California. Which gave Hermes an opening to show his face (in a ridiculous mailman outfit, mind you) and toss her the Celestial bronze multi-tool kit and say, "Good luck. You'll need it," before tromping off down the street. Genna always wondered what Hermes saw in Nora, and what Nora saw in Hermes — she wondered why they had chosen each other to spend their time with. Nora was an attorney, and Hermes was a god. So how it worked ... Well, obviously it didn't.

Genna remembers the late nights Nora would have — arguing for her clients, pouring over legal loopholes, and writing plans to help clients win the case to the best of their abilities. Maybe that was what caught Hermes's eye — Nora's constant need to win, her constant need to be moving, to always be moving forward, climbing up the ladder of her career.

She didn't know if Nora still worked as an attorney, or even worked in the legal field at all. At one point, Nora wanted to become a lawyer, wanting to defend the people who couldn't defend themselves. Genna doesn't even know if Nora and Vance stayed in Oakland after what happened. Or if they had more kids after Genna ran away. In summary, Genna has no idea what became of her mortal family as she practically blew it to pieces and ran away from the scene of the crime.

Genna found her way back down to Cabin Eleven, a little confused to see Annabeth sitting on the front steps. The daughter of Athena was reading a book on Ancient Greek architecture (translated into Ancient Greek, too). "What are you doing here?"

Annabeth didn't look up until she finished her page, turning it over. "Chiron's showing Percy around. Coming by here to know where he's sleeping."

Genna groaned. She forgot she would have to share a cabin with Percy Jackson. She would have to see more of his drooling face than she would like. "But ... why are you here?"

"I've been asked to show him around," said Annabeth.

"So you just want to see Luke?" Genna crossed her arms.

Annabeth threw the redhead a furious glare, and the daughter of Hermes only shrugged.

Genna heard voices coming closer and looked over the shoulder. Immediately, she grimaced as Annabeth quickly stood up and tucked her book under her arm. Silently, Annabeth pinched the fat on Genna's arm to make her stand up, but the daughter of Hermes hunkered down. In the end, Annabeth won, physically dragging Genna to her feet as Genna dug her heels in. Genna would've fallen off the stairs if it wasn't for Chiron clearing his throat. Annabeth threw Genna a look. She was always chiding Genna on something.

Chiron sighed to himself. With a voice that wasn't entirely chiding, but definitely wasn't pleased, he greeted the two. "Annabeth, Genna —" He focused on the daughter of Hermes. "I do believe I noticed you were absent this morning for your chores."

Genna pursed her lips and only shrugged, acting as if she had no idea what Chiron was talking about.

That's when she noticed Percy Jackson.

She had seen him a million times at Yancy Academy, but his fight with the Minotaur had changed him — not entirely for the better. His hair was still as messy, it might've been even messier now than when he was sleeping. He was a little shorter than her, sporting a borrowed Camp T-shirt (see in: a previous camper's T-shirt from long ago, with cuts and holes in the bottom and sleeves) and cargo shorts.

Chiron clasped his hands together, noticing the way Genna was staring Percy down with narrowed eyes. He was out of his wheelchair today, towering over all three demigods. His hooves clopped on the grass, and his white horse tail flicked back and forth, almost like he was nervous about something. "Ah, yes — Percy, you know Genna." He gestured to the redhead standing on the steps to Cabin Eleven. "She, along with Grover, were ..."

"Both assigned to protect me," Percy broke in. He looked almost bitter about it all. "I get it."

Genna sneered at the boy. "It's not like I wanted that."

"You think I wanted you protecting —"

"Girls," Chiron spoke up, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"

Before Genna could give a clipping comment, Annabeth answered for her, "Yes, sir." The daughter of Hermes threw the blonde a nasty look.

"Cabin Eleven." The activities director gestured towards the doorway for Percy. "Make yourself at home."

Genna didn't bother hiding her sneer. Her cabin couldn't handle any more inhabitants. Cabin Eleven, the cabin for her father, Hermes, looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The paint on the outside was peeling, and the floorboards creaked whenever you stepped on them. As they stepped inside, Genna watched (maybe in slight embarrassment) as Percy's face dropped when he saw how crowded it was. There weren't enough bunks for all the campers, and so most found a spot on the floor and laid out sleeping bags. The reason it was like this was because the Hermes Cabin took in Hermes's kids along with every unclaimed demigod and children of the minor gods.

The door was too low for Chiron to walk through, but the campers all bowed when they saw him.

"Well, then," said Chiron. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away towards the archery range.

When Genna realized Percy hadn't followed her and Annabeth inside, she looked back with a frown. The boy stood at the threshold, staring at all the campers who were now sizing him up. Genna raised her eyebrows at Percy. Come on, she mouthed to him.

Percy pursed his lips and took a step inside.

His foot got caught on a loose floorboard.

Genna tucked in her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. Annabeth's expression went from peeved to dubious. There were some snickers from Genna's cabinmates, but no one said anything as Percy hopped back onto his feet, face flushed with embarrassment.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" Connor asked.

Percy quickly glanced sideways at Genna, who sighed and declared, "Undetermined."

Everybody made a collective groan. Genna winced, hiding back her own feelings. Luke raised his hand and stepped forward. He quietened the grumbles and sighs with a loud, but gentle: "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there. You see it?"

Luke guided Percy by the shoulder, making way for the spot in Cabin Eleven he was talking about. He was a tall and muscular nine-teen-year-old, with short-cropped sandy hair. He was Genna's older brother, and you could certainly see the resemblance — with the same mischievous eyes (only his were blue while Genna's were an odd amber color) and the crooked smile. But a trait they definitely didn't share was Luke's scar — a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw.

Annabeth glowed to even just see Luke. She quickly hid her smile and cleared her throat. "This is Luke," she told Percy. "He's your counselor for now."

Percy frowned. "For now?"

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin Eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the God of Travelers."

"And thieves," added Genna under her breath.

Percy seemed to have heard her. He clutched his Minotaur horn just a little bit tighter. "How long will I be here?" he asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers in Cabin Eleven burst out into laughter.

Genna frowned at the look on Percy's face. "Hey, Percy. Let's go see the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"You can see it again."

She grabbed him by the back of his T-shirt and pulled him along. Before Annabeth closed the door after them, Genna could still hear the kids of Cabin Eleven laughing after them.

♤  OCT. 30TH, 2023  /  with all the promotional stuff coming out for the pjo show i've seen a lot of people saying that walker scobell (the kid playing percy) looks so angry in all the promotional material - like yeah, i'd look angry too if my mom had just been kidnapped by the fucking minotaur and i've learned that people have been gaslighting the fuck out of me for months

i think it has to do with the fact a lot of people in this fandom only think of percy as fanon!percy- which does have similarities to canon!percy, but fanon version is a lot more dumbed down and like ,, goofy? like a lot of fanon!percy things (?) really play into the "seaweed brain" trope

and a lot of fandoms do this with characters so it's honestly kinda fun (sometimes annoying) to see what traits they amplify/really focus on and what traits they don't - like i see it a lot with draco malfoy and the marauders (which i guess is fair with the marauders bc jkr has given us like nothing of substance - and tbh don't let her bc she'll probably fuck it up)

i had no idea where to end this chapter tbh - like i didn't want to end it with just the minotaur fight scene but adding more to it would just make this chapter way too long. but i think i found a good stopping point (if not - deal with it i guess lol)

i was thinking about this while writing the small interaction between anna and genna - annabeth is literally the daughter of athena, the goddess of wisdom; she would have the worst complex about that, you will never convince me otherwise. and she literally is head counselor at TWELVE - there was no way the lightning thief annabeth did not have the worst complex known to man - so i think that mixed with genna's (desire is not the right word) but her ,, ability i guess,, to go against authority/rules really annoys the hell out of annabeth

i was thinking about that and how genna and annabeth are the other's, like, worst enemy lol - annabeth has the world's worst complex bc she's been told she's super smart her whole life and has been given a lot of authority at 12 being head counselor and all, and genna is the total opposite and disregards, like, every rule known to man - i think it'll be super fun to write them basically being the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other (and you know who is who) and them having to accept the other for them

genna lowkey has problems with percy - and fair enough bc 12yo boys ARE annoying (even tho he hasn't really done anything - besides the bobofit comments lol) they're the friends that bully the shit out of each other (the comments are made out of love - not yet, but eventually. but for now, the comments are made with FULL malice behind them)

anyways, opinions?? thoughts??

(not edited nor proofread)