On the Fringe // Chapter One
Title: On the Fringe
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: EventualLuke/Percy, past!Percy/Annabeth. Also some OC pairings, but those are very minor.
Warnings: AU, slash (m/m and f/f). Spoilers for The Last Olympian. Also, there's a handful of OCs, but most of them are camp counselors with minor roles.
Author's Note: I'm planning for this to be a relatively short fic, maybe six chapters tops, but we'll just have to see. This fic completely changes Luke's fate in The Last Olympian and will otherwise have spoilers. And if you bothered to look at the pairings and warnings, there will be slash, both with boys and girls, so if you don't like it, use your handy little back button right now. If you're still reading this, enjoy the fic.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are copyright to Rick Riordan and if he had any idea what I'm doing with his characters, I'm sure he'd be out for my foolish mortal blood. I do, however, own the OCs.
Edit (January 10, 2011):Edit [January 10, 2011]: Hey, guys, if you've read this story before and are worried about the sudden missing chapter, don't be. I merged chapters one and two together because they were so short in comparison to the rest of the fic. I didn't set myself to my 5,000 word minimum until chapter three and, looking back, the 2,876 and 3,612 word counts on chapters one and two, respectively, just seemed a little like I wasn't trying.
If you're new to this story, nothing has been changed, you haven't missed out on anything. The content is the same, there's just less chapters than before. :) Whether you're a new reader and an old one, I hope that you don't mind the change and hopefully, there won't be any mass panic about a missing chapter.
Chapter One
Percy Jackson was ready to get back to Camp Half-Blood. He'd spent the last year at Jefferson High, a private school in Manhattan, the first school he'd ever successfully attended for a full year. His mother had thrown him a party to celebrate, taking him to Montauk and inviting his close friends Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase to come with them. The four of them had enjoyed blue frosted cupcakes, blue Twizzlers and Mountain Dew Voltage, which was the perfect shade of blue to match the long-held tradition of blue food that Percy and his mother, Sally, had enjoyed for years.
During the party, Tyson had popped up unexpectantly, rushing across the beach to his half-brother. Percy had just managed to calm the young Cyclops down before Tyson could crush him in his arms. Tyson was always excited to see his brother, often times forgetting that he was taller, larger and stronger than Percy was. After he'd hugged his brother, without causing much more than a set of sore ribs, Tyson had presented Percy with a congratulatory gift from both himself and their father, Poseidon; a conch shell.
The conch shell, Tyson explained, was a way for Percy to speak to both Tyson and Poseidon. It was a long used way of communication between the sea god and those of his blood. Mortals had long since used conch shells to hear the sea from a distance. To the sons and daughters of Poseidon, the sound of the sea was actually the voice of Poseidon himself.
Percy held the conch shell in his hands now, as his mother drove him and Grover along the road that led to Camp Half-Blood. Annabeth, though she had enjoyed the party and seeing her friends again, had needed to return to Olympus, where she was continuously overseeing the reconstruction of the ancient home of the gods. Grover and Percy sat in the back seat of the Toyota that belonged to Percy's step-father, Paul Blofis. The two of them were chatting amiably, with Grover getting Percy caught up in the happenings at Camp Half-Blood.
"A lot has changed," Grover told his friend. "We finished getting the new cabins built and we've appointed head counselors to the new cabins."
"What about Hermes' cabin?" Percy asked.
Grover paused. "Well, Loki's taken over. We figured Luke wasn't ready to take back his old job."
Percy nodded. In the final battle against Kronos, Luke had nearly been killed when he'd taken Annabeth's dagger, a cursed blade, to drive the Titan lord out of his body. It had been a close call and, if it hadn't been for the nectar and ambrosia the half-blood army had had on hand, they would have lost Luke for sure. At the time, Percy'd had mixed feelings about saving Luke; over the years, he'd come to despise the older half-blood for all the evil things he had done, trying to destroy the camp, trying to killing him on several occasions, and threatening all he loved more than once.
However, after a while, Percy had realized that Luke, despite everything, was a true hero and deserved life anew. He felt a little better about it, though admittedly a little guilty, when Asclepius (1), the physician of the gods, had erased Luke's memory of the last several years. Luke had been taken back to Camp Half-Blood to recover and retrain. The entire camp had sworn upon the River Styx to keep secret the evil deeds the son of Hermes had committed.
Still, Luke was one thing about returning to Camp Half-Blood that Percy was uneasy about. Though he, too, had taken the oath to keep quiet about Luke's misdoings, he couldn't help the apprehension he felt around the older half-blood. After so many years with Luke as his enemy, there were feelings that Percy could only just contain. He was still angry at Luke, still half-afraid that Luke would turn around and try to kill him again, remembering on his own that Percy had once been his enemy.
"Hey," Grover said, breaking into Percy's thoughts.
Percy looked up at his friend. "What?"
"I know you're worried about Luke," Grover replied. "I can feel it."
Percy gave a small half-smile. The emotional link between him and Grover was still strong, growing only stronger; the satyr always had some insight into Percy's feelings. "Sorry," he apologized.
"You don't have to worry about Luke," Grover told him. "He doesn't remember anything about Kronos or what he's done. Asclepius made sure of that. Unless someone breaks the oath, and I'm sure no one is about to do that, Luke will never remember."
"Yeah, I know," Percy muttered, looking down at the conch shell in his hands. His fingers ran along the contours of the shell, feeling the rough, outer texture against the sensitive skin of his fingertips. He gave a shrug. "I just don't think I can handle being around him."
"You've got some lingering hate towards him, I get it," Grover said. "So do I. A lot of us do. The things he put us through, it's understandable. But everyone has agreed to give him another chance. We gotta stick to that."
"I know."
The two of them fell silent. Percy continued to stare at the shell in his hands, toying with it, flipping it upside down. Grover pulled one of the empty Mountain Dew cans out of a bag he'd brought along and started chewing on it, crunching the aluminum between his teeth as he watched the scenery go by. It was late afternoon and they were nearing the camp. After a while, they reached the strip of road in front of the camp. In the distance, over the hill, Percy could just see the back of the dragon that guarded the entrance to the camp. The dragon was snoozing under the pine tree that had once been Thalia, the daughter of Zeus, now the lieutenant of Artemis' hunters.
Percy opened his door and stepped out of the car, grabbing his backpack from its place on the floorboard. He shut the door and turned to the driver's side window, where his mother was smiling at him. Percy leaned in, giving Sally a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Bye, Mom," he said. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you in August."
Sally nodded. "Bye, sweetie. Don't get into too much trouble." She waved goodbye to Grover as the satyr crossed in front of the car before turning back to her son. "Paul and I will be expecting calls over the summer."
"Yeah, I know," Percy told her, giving her a wave as he turned to head up the hill. "Bye!"
Sally watched Percy and Grover hurry up the hill until they both disappeared across the boundaries of the camp. She shifted gears and turned back onto the road to head back home.
* * * * *
Grover had not been kidding when he'd said that Camp Half-Blood had changed. Percy had seen the beginnings of the camp's remodel, when the new cabins were just being built. In addition to the original twelve cabins for the Olympian gods, there were now several cabins for the Chthonian gods, those gods not residing on Mount Olympus. There were twice as many Chthonian cabins, at least, than there were Olympian cabins.
Amongst the new cabins, Percy recognized the cabin for the children of Hecate, goddess of magic and night. Most, if not all of the children of Hecate were girls, for Hecate was most commonly known as the goddess of witches. The Hecate cabin was made of stone inscribed with the words of magic and, out front, a group of teenage girls sat in a circle around a small fire, hands joined and mouths moving, forming words of magic. The oldest girl, at least seventeen or eighteen years old, led the group. She had short-cut black hair and dark eyes against milky mocha-colored skin. She was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, a tangle of necklaces around her neck and a number of bracelets on both wrists. Her feet were bare and covered in dirt.
"That's Tayen," Grover said from his place beside Percy. "She's the head counselor for the Hecate cabin. She's okay, a bit moody, though."
"Ah," Percy muttered, turning his head away from the Hecate cabin. He walked past the rest of the cabins, only giving them minor attention as he took in information from Grover as to which cabins belonged to which god or goddess.
They soon reached cabin three, Percy's home and Poseidon's cabin. Percy stopped in front of the door and let his backpack slip from his shoulder. He turned to Grover.
"So, I'll see you later?" he asked. "Or are you busy now, being a Lord of the Wild?"
Grover, still not quite used to his new title, gave a shrug. "I'll be around," he replied. "I've got some work to do around here, but I'll be around until winter solstice. I've got plans to head west. Got some work to do out there."
Percy nodded. "Saving the wild, one satyr at a time."
"Yeah."
"Alright," Percy said. He put his hand on the door to the cabin. "Well, I'd better get unpacked."
Grover turned. "I'll see you around, Percy."
After Grover had gone, Percy turned and pushed open the door to the cabin. Stepping in, he looked around. Not much had changed here; the fountain in the corner still ran, an endless mist dancing in the air. His bunk was made, just as he'd left it. The cabin was large and pretty bare, but it was home. Percy stepped towards his bunk and it was only until he got closer to his bunk that he noticed someone else in one of the bunks close by.
He turned towards the bunk in surprise; he was so used to being the only child of Poseidon that he hadn't been expecting anyone to be there. Perhaps Poseidon hadn't been kidding when he'd mentioned sending him some siblings last year. Percy stepped towards the bunk.
A young girl, probably no older than twelve, as Percy had been when he'd first arrived at camp, lay in the bunk, taking an afternoon nap. The girl had long black hair, held in a ponytail that had loosened with tossing and turning as she'd slept. She had a tanned complexion, as though she was from a Middle-Eastern country. The girl gave a slight moan in her sleep before her eyes opened, as if she had unconsciously sensed Percy standing over her. She bolted upright and stared at Percy, eyes wide in surprise.
"Whoa, calm down!" Percy told her, raising his hands to show that he meant the girl no harm. "I'm Percy Jackson. I live here."
The girl furrowed her brow, dark eyes focusing on Percy. "You are…a son of Poseidon?" she asked, her English heavily accented and articulated.
Percy nodded. "I am. If you're here, that means you're a daughter of Poseidon."
The girl gave a nod of her own. "I am Alima, daughter of Poseidon." Alima looked at him. "You are my brother?"
"Something like that," Percy replied, smiling gently at her. He felt a little proud; he'd never had a sister before, so meeting Alima was rather welcome surprise. "We'll be getting to know each other this summer."
Alima gave a shy smile in return. "I would very much like that, brother."
After talking to Alima for a bit longer, Percy went over to his own bunk and began unpacking his things. He placed the conch shell given to him by Tyson on the bedstand, arranging it so that it balanced nicely on the wood surface without rocking. Beside it, Percy set down a photo of him with his mother and step-father, from Christmas break. It was a good picture, something that reminded him of his entire family; the picture had been taken at the beach, where Percy was closest to his father and half-brother. He could almost see Poseidon and Tyson in the picture, figures distant in the ocean.
Alima, since she was awake now, had gotten out of bed and started cleaning up around her bunk. Percy watched her make her bed and pick up a staff that had been lying on the floor. The staff was about four feet long and tipped with celestial bronze caps. It was obvious by the way Alima had no trouble handling it that it was probably her weapon of choice. Percy wondered how long Alima had been using the staff; it had some visible wear to it, dents in the celestial bronze caps and fading to the metal where Alima had gripped it in fights.
"So, how long have you been here?" Percy asked her.
Alima didn't look at him as she continued cleaning, picking up socks from where they'd been tossed to the floor. "Oliver, the satyr who found me, brought me here in November."
"What about your mother? Do you go see her during break?"
Alima was quiet for a long moment. Percy thought that maybe he'd hit a sore spot; it wasn't uncommon for half-bloods to have lost their mortal parent because of monster attacks or have been kicked out of the house for being too dangerous. Alima may not even have a mother anymore.
"My mother is happy with her husband and her children with him," Alima said, voice soft. "He was not happy with me and did not want me in his house. My mother sent me away because she wanted her husband to be happy."
"Oh." Percy fell silent, feeling sorry that he had asked and that Alima was alone. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Alima shook her head and turned to him. "I am not upset. Because Mother sent me away, Oliver found me and brought me here. I am happy here." She smiled. "I have friends here and now I have a brother."
Percy smiled back at her. "Yeah."
"We will be a good family, Percy," Alima said. "You and me. And our many cousins."
Percy was glad that Alima had told him that she was happy here. It reminded him of his first year at Camp Half-Blood, when he had discovered his extended family and felt that connection with the other campers. This place, Camp Half-Blood, was truly home. Everyone here was, as Alima had said, family. They didn't always get along, like Percy and the children of Ares, but when worst came to worse, they were that tight-knitted family.
"I think it will be a good summer," Percy grinned.
* * * * *
At dinner that night, Percy and Alima sat together. It was nice to have another person at the Poseidon table, they agreed. Alima was a bit on the quiet side during dinner, but she was beaming throughout the meal, obviously glad that she wasn’t sitting alone anymore. She gladly sat listening to Percy talk, eager to learn about her older half-brother; she’d heard stories about Percy from a few of the other campers, but she’d wanted to get to know him personally. Percy, not that he was bragging, was glad to tell Alima of the quests he’d been on.
Of course, Percy was careful to keep out any mention of Luke in his stories. Looking across the other tables to table eleven, Percy watched Luke amongst the other children of Hermes. The older half-blood didn’t seem to notice that he was being watched. The blond was laughing at the Stoll brothers' antics as they told him stories of their own, how they’d been involved in the big fight. The way Luke looked, it seemed that he was only upset that 'he hadn’t been there' to fight.
The cover story was that Luke had been away on a quest and had gotten caught by the trap in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. It was, admittedly, a bit of a feeble cover story and couldn’t explain all the holes in Luke’s memory from where Asclepius had manipulated the half-blood’s mind, but so far, it had gone over pretty well. Luke didn’t question it and with the great oath upon the River Styx, none of the campers who’d been involved could tell him otherwise without dire consequences.
"And after Annabeth taunted Polyphemus?" Alima asked, breaking into Percy’s thoughts. "What happened after that?"
"Huh?" Percy asked, having trailed off. He thought for a brief moment and continued. "After that, Polyphemus attacked her, but she was wearing her invisibility cap and he couldn’t find her."
Percy went on to tell the rest of the story as dinner progressed, going into the details that he deemed safe within the camp’s boundaries. Alima enjoyed his stories, paying him the utmost attention. As Percy finished his story, telling her of sending Clarisse back to camp with the Golden Fleece, Mr. D stood up, calling for everyone's attention. The campers settled, turning in their seats to face him.
"Yes, another fine meal and I have the utter joy of another summer at this delightful camp," Mr. D drawled, the stressing of his words dripping with sarcasm. "I see our returning hero, Peyton Johansson, in the crowd. Brilliant."
Alima lifted a brow at Percy, questioning why Dionysus would be so cynical and disrespecting of him, despite Percy's part in saving Olympus just a year previous. Percy looked at her and told her in a soft voice that he’d tell her later.
Dionysus looked around at the crowd of campers at the many tables in front of him. "When my beloved father decided to send me here to torture me, there were but twelve cabins. I look around me now, seeing twice that number, and wonder if my father's punishment was overkill. Alas, I remain stuck with you brats." He raised his goblet, filled to the brim with Diet Coke. "To another summer of fun and excitement, my dear half-blood cousins."
The campers raised their glasses in the toast. After the toast, the campers left the tables to circle around the bonfire, where the Apollo cabin led in the sing-a-long. The fire burned high and warm that night, shifting colors with each song, brilliant cerulean to glittering silver. It was probably the best beginning to the summer that Percy had ever experienced.
* * * * *
Percy's dreams were usually premonitions, warnings of things to come. Sometimes they started calm and well, often misleading him into a sense of security and warmth. Percy liked that part of his dreams. It was usually shortly after that when the dreams turned into nightmares. With Kronos defeated, the dreams had calmed considerably. No longer did Percy dream of Tartarus and the dark void that Kronos had promised him. The dreams were never that vivid anymore.
This dream was more toned down, kind of glazed over. In the dream, Percy recognized his surroundings as Camp Half-Blood. It was clear out as usual, with the camp’s magic keeping out bad weather, but it was more than that. The camp itself was clear; there were no other campers outside, no archers practicing on the firing range, no daughters of Hecate casting spells outside their cabin, no satyrs dancing around the strawberry fields as they piped on their panflutes.
It was just…clear. Percy wandered through the camp in his dream, looking for any sign that he wasn’t alone. He wandered towards the lake, onto the pier, and looked down. Where he expected to see naiads weaving baskets underwater, he saw only his reflection in the water. He frowned at himself, confusion fogging his mind.
"Percy."
Percy spun around to face whoever had said his name. He was still alone, standing on the pier, no one in sight. He had clearly heard his name called, in a voice that sounded familiar. There was only one person he knew could become invisible, but the voice had not been Annabeth's. Percy knew Annabeth's voice. This voice had been soft, but strong.
"Who’s there?" Percy demanded, his voice echoing through the empty campground.
No one answered. Percy tensed, knowing that this was usually the point in his dreams that strange things happened. He quieted, listening for any sound that might give away the intruder's position.
Nothing.
Percy shifted, looking around him. No one, nothing had shown up. He was still the only sign of life at the camp. It was beginning to become distinctly uncomfortable in the dream, but Percy could not yet wake.
"Percy Jackson," the voice called again, this time from behind him.
Percy turned again, facing the lake. Still, no one appeared. He narrowed his eyes, the confusion giving him a headache. Whoever was there didn't want to be seen, but the voice was hauntingly familiar. Percy simply couldn't place it.
A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, a hand covering his mouth quickly so he couldn’t shout out. Percy could feel warm breath on his neck, steady streams of air against the hair that brushed the nape of his neck. Though Percy couldn't see who had grabbed him, he had the distinct feeling that he knew who it was.
"You can tell me the truth, Percy," the intruder said, voice in his ear. "All you have to do is tell me the truth."
Percy couldn't speak, for the hand still covering his mouth. He struggled to get out of the other's grip, try to face whoever it was. The intruder held him fast, keeping Percy from making any progress.
"Who am I, Percy Jackson?"
* * * * *
Puzzled by the dream, Percy spent the next morning musing it over during breakfast. He’d long since learned to be wary of his own dreams. This dream had been so different from the dreams he’d received over the years, but it had the same feeling of trouble and urgency as dreams of the past. He simply didn't know what it meant; there was no distinct threat from the dream, just a sense of uneasiness.
"Hey, Percy."
Percy snapped out of his reverie and looked up. In front of him, across from the table, was Luke. The older half-blood smiled at him, scar shifting under his right eye. Over the years, the thick scar had begun fading and thinning, but it was still visible and unsettling. Luke's sandy blond hair had grown, reaching his chin and held back in a loose ponytail. His eyes, once straight blue, had flecks of gold from when Kronos had possessed him. That was the most unnerving thing about Luke.
"Luke," Percy said in greeting.
Luke crossed his arms and leaned forward, resting his arms on the surface of the table. "Can't stay long or Mr. D will get on my case about breaking rules. But I heard you and Annabeth broke up?"
"Oh," Percy murmured. He gave a small, awkward grin. "Yeah, things weren't working out. She's spending a lot of time on Olympus and doesn't get down here often enough. We decided to break up until things up there settled."
"I see," Luke mused. "So, you've broken up, but just temporarily."
"Something like that."
Luke grinned at him. "And here I was, ready to give you a verbal thrashing for hurting Annabeth. But you didn't, so now I have no excuse."
"Guess not," Percy replied. It was kind of hard to act normal around Luke, have a good conversation with him. There were simply too many things that Percy was still angry with the son of Hermes for; the deaths of Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard, not to mention the deaths of so many other campers, every trouble that Percy had been through since coming to Camp Half-Blood -- all of it had something to do with Luke's betrayal.
"Look, Percy," Luke said. "I know things are pretty rough, what with camp having changed so much and everyone on their toes about the big fight, but you know I'm around if you need to talk, right?"
Percy nodded absently. "Yeah."
"And you know," Luke continued. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. To help fight."
Only you were, Percy thought. You were just on the wrong side.
"Back to your table, Castellan!" Dionysus shouted from his seat at table twelve.
"Yes, sir!" Luke called back. He looked back at Percy. "You know where to find me. I'll see you at sword practice. Can't wait to see how much you've improved!"
With that, Luke stood up and hurried back to the Hermes table, taking his seat next to Loki, one of his half-brothers. Loki was younger than Luke, nineteen years old, but he was the closest friend Luke had at the moment. He had been one of the first new sons of Hermes to arrive at camp after the final battle with Kronos, so he didn't even know of Luke's involvement.
A lot of the kids now at the camp were too new to know about Luke's involvement. For that, Percy was actually grateful. It was less chance for Luke to remember the things he'd done. No one knew what remembering would do to him, if he would go insane with guilt or rage, if he would once again try to bring down Olympus. Percy knew that, before Asclepius had erased Luke's memory, the older half-blood had been truly regretful for his actions. He just wondered if that regret remained, would still be there if Luke remembered.
* * * * *
Though his memories had been manipulated and erased, it was obvious that Luke had not forgotten his skills with a sword. He’d once again taken over as instructor for swordplay and, by the way he moved, blade flashing in the late morning sun, it was clear that he was just as good as ever, possibly better. This was where Luke belonged, instructing campers on technique for fighting for survival.
Percy watched Luke as the son of Hermes sparred with Jereth, one of the older, more experienced campers. Jereth, though more comfortable with a bow, being a son of Apollo, kept pace with Luke. Both of them were strong, skilled and confident. It was an intense spar. Jereth's dark dreadlocks danced as he moved, evading Luke’s strikes. Luke's blue and gold eyes were focused on Jereth's watching for signs of the dark teen's next move.
Percy recognized that gaze. He'd been on the receiving end of that look more than once and he knew that Luke was determined to win the match. Jereth might stand a chance against him, but in the end, Luke would be the victor. It all came down to Luke's determination; Jereth was good and confident, but Luke was more so.
There was a reason why Luke had once been called the best swordsman in three hundred years.
Luke moved, almost too quickly to see, and Jereth's sword was on the ground. The point of Luke’s sword was just centimeters from the son of Apollo's throat. Both half-bloods were heaving from exhaustion, sweat pouring down their faces. Luke and Jereth looked at each other for a moment, then Luke lowered his sword.
"And the match is mine," he said, proudly.
The crowd of campers that had been watching burst into applause. Jereth sheathed his sword and headed to get some water, completely parched from exertion. Luke joined him just long enough to catch his breath and re-hydrate. After a moment, he instructed the gathered campers to get their own armor and swords for practice.
Percy left the crowd, going to join Alima in the stables. He hadn't even gotten more than ten feet away when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He turned to see Luke grinning at him.
"Not sticking around?" Luke asked. "Afraid to challenge me?"
Memories of fighting Luke surfaced in Percy's mind. The only reason he'd managed to survive his last fight with Luke was because he'd taken a dip in the River Styx. He had to wonder if that still affected them both. Perhaps that was the reason Luke had won the match against Jereth, not just his sense of determination.
Percy shook his head in response to Luke's question. "I could take you, but I'm scheduled to give pegasus riding lessons."
"Ah," Luke replied. He seemed disappointed. "Well, next time, then, Percy."
Luke headed back to the group of campers waiting for their lessons. Percy watched him head back before turning to cross the camp to the stables. He hurried, knowing he was already running late from watching the match. He just reached the stables when Alima came out to look for him.
"You are late," she told him. "The children of Aura are waiting for their lessons."
"Yeah, I know," Percy replied. "Sorry." He entered the stables and apologized to the waiting group. "Okay, so, let's get started." He went over to the stall where his old friend, Blackjack waited for him.
((Yo, boss!)) the black stallion greeted. ((Long time, no see!))
"Hello, Blackjack," Percy told him. He gave Blackjack an affectionate pat on the nose before turning to the group behind him. "This is Blackjack," he told the gathered campers. "He and I have been through a lot together and he'll be helping with my demonstrations."
((I get apples for this, right?)) Blackjack asked. ((I’d better get apples for this.))
Alima gave a giggle from her spot with the group. As the daughter of Poseidon, she, too, could understand horses and pegasi. The rest of the group simply looked at her like she was crazy. Alima didn't seem to mind. She looked at Percy and smiled; the ability to understand Blackjack was just between the two of them. Percy smiled back at her.
"Riding a pegasus is just like riding a horse," Percy told the group. "Except with pegasi, you have to keep the wings in mind. Don't sit where you'll interfere with the pegasus' wing movements."
He opened the stall door to let Blackjack out, then led both the pegasus and the gathered campers out of the stable into the open campground. Once they were outside, Percy gestured for Alima to approach to help with the demonstration. The girl came forward and Percy helped her up onto Blackjack's back.
"See how Alima is sitting behind the wings? This way, she gives Blackjack freedom to fly. You need to be careful that you stay out of the way when your pegasus is flying. If you get too close to the wings, you can hamper their ability to fly and probably get bucked off."
((I take her up now, right?)) Blackjack asked.
Percy nodded. "Take her up. Don't go too high. We need to be able to see you."
Blackjack gave a shake of his head and whinnied. ((Hang on, little boss!))
He started to gallop, gaining the speed to take off. Stretching his wings, Blackjack leapt into the air and flapped his wings to get airborne. Percy explained to the Aura group that, in order to fly a pegasus, the rider needed to work with their mount; it wasn't just the pegasus' natural ability to fly, but the synchrony of pegasus and rider that made it really work.
After the demonstration was over, Percy brought out a few more of the camp's pegasi and let the Aura group take turns learning how to mount and ride a pegasus. When they took to the air, the children of Aura were almost as comfortable flying as Percy and Alima were. This was because their mother was the goddess of the breeze; reading the winds came naturally to them and enhanced the flying experience.
When rotation came, the Aura children helped bring the pegasi back to the stables and thanked Percy for the lessons. A few stayed behind to talk longer, amongst them, the cabin counselors, a set of twins about sixteen years old. The twins, Emma and Ella, offered to clean up the pegasi, brush out their manes. Their cabin was on break after this last activity, so they had some free time to spare. Percy agreed to let them help, assigning each twin to one pegasi.
One of the twins, Percy wasn't sure which one was which, struck up conversation as they worked. "So, Percy, how long have you been at camp?"
"Since I was twelve," Percy replied. "This is my sixth year here."
"So you know just about everything about camp, right?"
"Not really," Percy admitted. "Six years is nothing compared to some of the other campers here."
The girl nodded, patting the nose of the pegasus she was brushing, a lovely creamy mare. "But you know Luke, right?"
Percy paused. "Sorry, er…"
"Emma," the girl informed him.
"…Emma. I can't really talk about him."
Emma tilted her head, fingering a lock of the mare’s mane. "That's the thing, though," she mused. "It seems no one can. I'm just curious about why."
"I can't tell you that, either, sorry," Percy told her.
Emma turned to look at Ella, exchanging glances with her sister. "We just find that a little strange, right, Ella?"
Ella nodded. "It's like everyone's in on a big secret."
"Very strange," Emma said.
"Indeed," Ella agreed.
Percy was going to tell the twins that the topic of Luke was off-limits, but the girls dropped the subject on their own, going back to work brushing their pegasi. Conversation switched to the next activity on their roster and Percy let them talk on their own. He returned to grooming Blackjack.
((So…)) Blackjack said after a long moment. ((When do I get those apples?))
Author's Note: This is the edited version of this chapter. As I said in the note before, nothing's been changed, I just merged two short chapters together to go with the 5,000 word minimum I set per chapter. Hope you enjoyed!
(1) Asclepius: This name for the physician of the gods came from W.H.D. Rouse's book "Gods, Heroes and Men of Ancient Greece" but I have also seen his name as being Paion. I decided to use Asclepius because it was the name I could confirm better.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: EventualLuke/Percy, past!Percy/Annabeth. Also some OC pairings, but those are very minor.
Warnings: AU, slash (m/m and f/f). Spoilers for The Last Olympian. Also, there's a handful of OCs, but most of them are camp counselors with minor roles.
Author's Note: I'm planning for this to be a relatively short fic, maybe six chapters tops, but we'll just have to see. This fic completely changes Luke's fate in The Last Olympian and will otherwise have spoilers. And if you bothered to look at the pairings and warnings, there will be slash, both with boys and girls, so if you don't like it, use your handy little back button right now. If you're still reading this, enjoy the fic.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are copyright to Rick Riordan and if he had any idea what I'm doing with his characters, I'm sure he'd be out for my foolish mortal blood. I do, however, own the OCs.
Edit (January 10, 2011):Edit [January 10, 2011]: Hey, guys, if you've read this story before and are worried about the sudden missing chapter, don't be. I merged chapters one and two together because they were so short in comparison to the rest of the fic. I didn't set myself to my 5,000 word minimum until chapter three and, looking back, the 2,876 and 3,612 word counts on chapters one and two, respectively, just seemed a little like I wasn't trying.
If you're new to this story, nothing has been changed, you haven't missed out on anything. The content is the same, there's just less chapters than before. :) Whether you're a new reader and an old one, I hope that you don't mind the change and hopefully, there won't be any mass panic about a missing chapter.
Chapter One
Percy Jackson was ready to get back to Camp Half-Blood. He'd spent the last year at Jefferson High, a private school in Manhattan, the first school he'd ever successfully attended for a full year. His mother had thrown him a party to celebrate, taking him to Montauk and inviting his close friends Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase to come with them. The four of them had enjoyed blue frosted cupcakes, blue Twizzlers and Mountain Dew Voltage, which was the perfect shade of blue to match the long-held tradition of blue food that Percy and his mother, Sally, had enjoyed for years.
During the party, Tyson had popped up unexpectantly, rushing across the beach to his half-brother. Percy had just managed to calm the young Cyclops down before Tyson could crush him in his arms. Tyson was always excited to see his brother, often times forgetting that he was taller, larger and stronger than Percy was. After he'd hugged his brother, without causing much more than a set of sore ribs, Tyson had presented Percy with a congratulatory gift from both himself and their father, Poseidon; a conch shell.
The conch shell, Tyson explained, was a way for Percy to speak to both Tyson and Poseidon. It was a long used way of communication between the sea god and those of his blood. Mortals had long since used conch shells to hear the sea from a distance. To the sons and daughters of Poseidon, the sound of the sea was actually the voice of Poseidon himself.
Percy held the conch shell in his hands now, as his mother drove him and Grover along the road that led to Camp Half-Blood. Annabeth, though she had enjoyed the party and seeing her friends again, had needed to return to Olympus, where she was continuously overseeing the reconstruction of the ancient home of the gods. Grover and Percy sat in the back seat of the Toyota that belonged to Percy's step-father, Paul Blofis. The two of them were chatting amiably, with Grover getting Percy caught up in the happenings at Camp Half-Blood.
"A lot has changed," Grover told his friend. "We finished getting the new cabins built and we've appointed head counselors to the new cabins."
"What about Hermes' cabin?" Percy asked.
Grover paused. "Well, Loki's taken over. We figured Luke wasn't ready to take back his old job."
Percy nodded. In the final battle against Kronos, Luke had nearly been killed when he'd taken Annabeth's dagger, a cursed blade, to drive the Titan lord out of his body. It had been a close call and, if it hadn't been for the nectar and ambrosia the half-blood army had had on hand, they would have lost Luke for sure. At the time, Percy'd had mixed feelings about saving Luke; over the years, he'd come to despise the older half-blood for all the evil things he had done, trying to destroy the camp, trying to killing him on several occasions, and threatening all he loved more than once.
However, after a while, Percy had realized that Luke, despite everything, was a true hero and deserved life anew. He felt a little better about it, though admittedly a little guilty, when Asclepius (1), the physician of the gods, had erased Luke's memory of the last several years. Luke had been taken back to Camp Half-Blood to recover and retrain. The entire camp had sworn upon the River Styx to keep secret the evil deeds the son of Hermes had committed.
Still, Luke was one thing about returning to Camp Half-Blood that Percy was uneasy about. Though he, too, had taken the oath to keep quiet about Luke's misdoings, he couldn't help the apprehension he felt around the older half-blood. After so many years with Luke as his enemy, there were feelings that Percy could only just contain. He was still angry at Luke, still half-afraid that Luke would turn around and try to kill him again, remembering on his own that Percy had once been his enemy.
"Hey," Grover said, breaking into Percy's thoughts.
Percy looked up at his friend. "What?"
"I know you're worried about Luke," Grover replied. "I can feel it."
Percy gave a small half-smile. The emotional link between him and Grover was still strong, growing only stronger; the satyr always had some insight into Percy's feelings. "Sorry," he apologized.
"You don't have to worry about Luke," Grover told him. "He doesn't remember anything about Kronos or what he's done. Asclepius made sure of that. Unless someone breaks the oath, and I'm sure no one is about to do that, Luke will never remember."
"Yeah, I know," Percy muttered, looking down at the conch shell in his hands. His fingers ran along the contours of the shell, feeling the rough, outer texture against the sensitive skin of his fingertips. He gave a shrug. "I just don't think I can handle being around him."
"You've got some lingering hate towards him, I get it," Grover said. "So do I. A lot of us do. The things he put us through, it's understandable. But everyone has agreed to give him another chance. We gotta stick to that."
"I know."
The two of them fell silent. Percy continued to stare at the shell in his hands, toying with it, flipping it upside down. Grover pulled one of the empty Mountain Dew cans out of a bag he'd brought along and started chewing on it, crunching the aluminum between his teeth as he watched the scenery go by. It was late afternoon and they were nearing the camp. After a while, they reached the strip of road in front of the camp. In the distance, over the hill, Percy could just see the back of the dragon that guarded the entrance to the camp. The dragon was snoozing under the pine tree that had once been Thalia, the daughter of Zeus, now the lieutenant of Artemis' hunters.
Percy opened his door and stepped out of the car, grabbing his backpack from its place on the floorboard. He shut the door and turned to the driver's side window, where his mother was smiling at him. Percy leaned in, giving Sally a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Bye, Mom," he said. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you in August."
Sally nodded. "Bye, sweetie. Don't get into too much trouble." She waved goodbye to Grover as the satyr crossed in front of the car before turning back to her son. "Paul and I will be expecting calls over the summer."
"Yeah, I know," Percy told her, giving her a wave as he turned to head up the hill. "Bye!"
Sally watched Percy and Grover hurry up the hill until they both disappeared across the boundaries of the camp. She shifted gears and turned back onto the road to head back home.
* * * * *
Grover had not been kidding when he'd said that Camp Half-Blood had changed. Percy had seen the beginnings of the camp's remodel, when the new cabins were just being built. In addition to the original twelve cabins for the Olympian gods, there were now several cabins for the Chthonian gods, those gods not residing on Mount Olympus. There were twice as many Chthonian cabins, at least, than there were Olympian cabins.
Amongst the new cabins, Percy recognized the cabin for the children of Hecate, goddess of magic and night. Most, if not all of the children of Hecate were girls, for Hecate was most commonly known as the goddess of witches. The Hecate cabin was made of stone inscribed with the words of magic and, out front, a group of teenage girls sat in a circle around a small fire, hands joined and mouths moving, forming words of magic. The oldest girl, at least seventeen or eighteen years old, led the group. She had short-cut black hair and dark eyes against milky mocha-colored skin. She was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, a tangle of necklaces around her neck and a number of bracelets on both wrists. Her feet were bare and covered in dirt.
"That's Tayen," Grover said from his place beside Percy. "She's the head counselor for the Hecate cabin. She's okay, a bit moody, though."
"Ah," Percy muttered, turning his head away from the Hecate cabin. He walked past the rest of the cabins, only giving them minor attention as he took in information from Grover as to which cabins belonged to which god or goddess.
They soon reached cabin three, Percy's home and Poseidon's cabin. Percy stopped in front of the door and let his backpack slip from his shoulder. He turned to Grover.
"So, I'll see you later?" he asked. "Or are you busy now, being a Lord of the Wild?"
Grover, still not quite used to his new title, gave a shrug. "I'll be around," he replied. "I've got some work to do around here, but I'll be around until winter solstice. I've got plans to head west. Got some work to do out there."
Percy nodded. "Saving the wild, one satyr at a time."
"Yeah."
"Alright," Percy said. He put his hand on the door to the cabin. "Well, I'd better get unpacked."
Grover turned. "I'll see you around, Percy."
After Grover had gone, Percy turned and pushed open the door to the cabin. Stepping in, he looked around. Not much had changed here; the fountain in the corner still ran, an endless mist dancing in the air. His bunk was made, just as he'd left it. The cabin was large and pretty bare, but it was home. Percy stepped towards his bunk and it was only until he got closer to his bunk that he noticed someone else in one of the bunks close by.
He turned towards the bunk in surprise; he was so used to being the only child of Poseidon that he hadn't been expecting anyone to be there. Perhaps Poseidon hadn't been kidding when he'd mentioned sending him some siblings last year. Percy stepped towards the bunk.
A young girl, probably no older than twelve, as Percy had been when he'd first arrived at camp, lay in the bunk, taking an afternoon nap. The girl had long black hair, held in a ponytail that had loosened with tossing and turning as she'd slept. She had a tanned complexion, as though she was from a Middle-Eastern country. The girl gave a slight moan in her sleep before her eyes opened, as if she had unconsciously sensed Percy standing over her. She bolted upright and stared at Percy, eyes wide in surprise.
"Whoa, calm down!" Percy told her, raising his hands to show that he meant the girl no harm. "I'm Percy Jackson. I live here."
The girl furrowed her brow, dark eyes focusing on Percy. "You are…a son of Poseidon?" she asked, her English heavily accented and articulated.
Percy nodded. "I am. If you're here, that means you're a daughter of Poseidon."
The girl gave a nod of her own. "I am Alima, daughter of Poseidon." Alima looked at him. "You are my brother?"
"Something like that," Percy replied, smiling gently at her. He felt a little proud; he'd never had a sister before, so meeting Alima was rather welcome surprise. "We'll be getting to know each other this summer."
Alima gave a shy smile in return. "I would very much like that, brother."
After talking to Alima for a bit longer, Percy went over to his own bunk and began unpacking his things. He placed the conch shell given to him by Tyson on the bedstand, arranging it so that it balanced nicely on the wood surface without rocking. Beside it, Percy set down a photo of him with his mother and step-father, from Christmas break. It was a good picture, something that reminded him of his entire family; the picture had been taken at the beach, where Percy was closest to his father and half-brother. He could almost see Poseidon and Tyson in the picture, figures distant in the ocean.
Alima, since she was awake now, had gotten out of bed and started cleaning up around her bunk. Percy watched her make her bed and pick up a staff that had been lying on the floor. The staff was about four feet long and tipped with celestial bronze caps. It was obvious by the way Alima had no trouble handling it that it was probably her weapon of choice. Percy wondered how long Alima had been using the staff; it had some visible wear to it, dents in the celestial bronze caps and fading to the metal where Alima had gripped it in fights.
"So, how long have you been here?" Percy asked her.
Alima didn't look at him as she continued cleaning, picking up socks from where they'd been tossed to the floor. "Oliver, the satyr who found me, brought me here in November."
"What about your mother? Do you go see her during break?"
Alima was quiet for a long moment. Percy thought that maybe he'd hit a sore spot; it wasn't uncommon for half-bloods to have lost their mortal parent because of monster attacks or have been kicked out of the house for being too dangerous. Alima may not even have a mother anymore.
"My mother is happy with her husband and her children with him," Alima said, voice soft. "He was not happy with me and did not want me in his house. My mother sent me away because she wanted her husband to be happy."
"Oh." Percy fell silent, feeling sorry that he had asked and that Alima was alone. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Alima shook her head and turned to him. "I am not upset. Because Mother sent me away, Oliver found me and brought me here. I am happy here." She smiled. "I have friends here and now I have a brother."
Percy smiled back at her. "Yeah."
"We will be a good family, Percy," Alima said. "You and me. And our many cousins."
Percy was glad that Alima had told him that she was happy here. It reminded him of his first year at Camp Half-Blood, when he had discovered his extended family and felt that connection with the other campers. This place, Camp Half-Blood, was truly home. Everyone here was, as Alima had said, family. They didn't always get along, like Percy and the children of Ares, but when worst came to worse, they were that tight-knitted family.
"I think it will be a good summer," Percy grinned.
* * * * *
At dinner that night, Percy and Alima sat together. It was nice to have another person at the Poseidon table, they agreed. Alima was a bit on the quiet side during dinner, but she was beaming throughout the meal, obviously glad that she wasn’t sitting alone anymore. She gladly sat listening to Percy talk, eager to learn about her older half-brother; she’d heard stories about Percy from a few of the other campers, but she’d wanted to get to know him personally. Percy, not that he was bragging, was glad to tell Alima of the quests he’d been on.
Of course, Percy was careful to keep out any mention of Luke in his stories. Looking across the other tables to table eleven, Percy watched Luke amongst the other children of Hermes. The older half-blood didn’t seem to notice that he was being watched. The blond was laughing at the Stoll brothers' antics as they told him stories of their own, how they’d been involved in the big fight. The way Luke looked, it seemed that he was only upset that 'he hadn’t been there' to fight.
The cover story was that Luke had been away on a quest and had gotten caught by the trap in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. It was, admittedly, a bit of a feeble cover story and couldn’t explain all the holes in Luke’s memory from where Asclepius had manipulated the half-blood’s mind, but so far, it had gone over pretty well. Luke didn’t question it and with the great oath upon the River Styx, none of the campers who’d been involved could tell him otherwise without dire consequences.
"And after Annabeth taunted Polyphemus?" Alima asked, breaking into Percy’s thoughts. "What happened after that?"
"Huh?" Percy asked, having trailed off. He thought for a brief moment and continued. "After that, Polyphemus attacked her, but she was wearing her invisibility cap and he couldn’t find her."
Percy went on to tell the rest of the story as dinner progressed, going into the details that he deemed safe within the camp’s boundaries. Alima enjoyed his stories, paying him the utmost attention. As Percy finished his story, telling her of sending Clarisse back to camp with the Golden Fleece, Mr. D stood up, calling for everyone's attention. The campers settled, turning in their seats to face him.
"Yes, another fine meal and I have the utter joy of another summer at this delightful camp," Mr. D drawled, the stressing of his words dripping with sarcasm. "I see our returning hero, Peyton Johansson, in the crowd. Brilliant."
Alima lifted a brow at Percy, questioning why Dionysus would be so cynical and disrespecting of him, despite Percy's part in saving Olympus just a year previous. Percy looked at her and told her in a soft voice that he’d tell her later.
Dionysus looked around at the crowd of campers at the many tables in front of him. "When my beloved father decided to send me here to torture me, there were but twelve cabins. I look around me now, seeing twice that number, and wonder if my father's punishment was overkill. Alas, I remain stuck with you brats." He raised his goblet, filled to the brim with Diet Coke. "To another summer of fun and excitement, my dear half-blood cousins."
The campers raised their glasses in the toast. After the toast, the campers left the tables to circle around the bonfire, where the Apollo cabin led in the sing-a-long. The fire burned high and warm that night, shifting colors with each song, brilliant cerulean to glittering silver. It was probably the best beginning to the summer that Percy had ever experienced.
* * * * *
Percy's dreams were usually premonitions, warnings of things to come. Sometimes they started calm and well, often misleading him into a sense of security and warmth. Percy liked that part of his dreams. It was usually shortly after that when the dreams turned into nightmares. With Kronos defeated, the dreams had calmed considerably. No longer did Percy dream of Tartarus and the dark void that Kronos had promised him. The dreams were never that vivid anymore.
This dream was more toned down, kind of glazed over. In the dream, Percy recognized his surroundings as Camp Half-Blood. It was clear out as usual, with the camp’s magic keeping out bad weather, but it was more than that. The camp itself was clear; there were no other campers outside, no archers practicing on the firing range, no daughters of Hecate casting spells outside their cabin, no satyrs dancing around the strawberry fields as they piped on their panflutes.
It was just…clear. Percy wandered through the camp in his dream, looking for any sign that he wasn’t alone. He wandered towards the lake, onto the pier, and looked down. Where he expected to see naiads weaving baskets underwater, he saw only his reflection in the water. He frowned at himself, confusion fogging his mind.
"Percy."
Percy spun around to face whoever had said his name. He was still alone, standing on the pier, no one in sight. He had clearly heard his name called, in a voice that sounded familiar. There was only one person he knew could become invisible, but the voice had not been Annabeth's. Percy knew Annabeth's voice. This voice had been soft, but strong.
"Who’s there?" Percy demanded, his voice echoing through the empty campground.
No one answered. Percy tensed, knowing that this was usually the point in his dreams that strange things happened. He quieted, listening for any sound that might give away the intruder's position.
Nothing.
Percy shifted, looking around him. No one, nothing had shown up. He was still the only sign of life at the camp. It was beginning to become distinctly uncomfortable in the dream, but Percy could not yet wake.
"Percy Jackson," the voice called again, this time from behind him.
Percy turned again, facing the lake. Still, no one appeared. He narrowed his eyes, the confusion giving him a headache. Whoever was there didn't want to be seen, but the voice was hauntingly familiar. Percy simply couldn't place it.
A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, a hand covering his mouth quickly so he couldn’t shout out. Percy could feel warm breath on his neck, steady streams of air against the hair that brushed the nape of his neck. Though Percy couldn't see who had grabbed him, he had the distinct feeling that he knew who it was.
"You can tell me the truth, Percy," the intruder said, voice in his ear. "All you have to do is tell me the truth."
Percy couldn't speak, for the hand still covering his mouth. He struggled to get out of the other's grip, try to face whoever it was. The intruder held him fast, keeping Percy from making any progress.
"Who am I, Percy Jackson?"
* * * * *
Puzzled by the dream, Percy spent the next morning musing it over during breakfast. He’d long since learned to be wary of his own dreams. This dream had been so different from the dreams he’d received over the years, but it had the same feeling of trouble and urgency as dreams of the past. He simply didn't know what it meant; there was no distinct threat from the dream, just a sense of uneasiness.
"Hey, Percy."
Percy snapped out of his reverie and looked up. In front of him, across from the table, was Luke. The older half-blood smiled at him, scar shifting under his right eye. Over the years, the thick scar had begun fading and thinning, but it was still visible and unsettling. Luke's sandy blond hair had grown, reaching his chin and held back in a loose ponytail. His eyes, once straight blue, had flecks of gold from when Kronos had possessed him. That was the most unnerving thing about Luke.
"Luke," Percy said in greeting.
Luke crossed his arms and leaned forward, resting his arms on the surface of the table. "Can't stay long or Mr. D will get on my case about breaking rules. But I heard you and Annabeth broke up?"
"Oh," Percy murmured. He gave a small, awkward grin. "Yeah, things weren't working out. She's spending a lot of time on Olympus and doesn't get down here often enough. We decided to break up until things up there settled."
"I see," Luke mused. "So, you've broken up, but just temporarily."
"Something like that."
Luke grinned at him. "And here I was, ready to give you a verbal thrashing for hurting Annabeth. But you didn't, so now I have no excuse."
"Guess not," Percy replied. It was kind of hard to act normal around Luke, have a good conversation with him. There were simply too many things that Percy was still angry with the son of Hermes for; the deaths of Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard, not to mention the deaths of so many other campers, every trouble that Percy had been through since coming to Camp Half-Blood -- all of it had something to do with Luke's betrayal.
"Look, Percy," Luke said. "I know things are pretty rough, what with camp having changed so much and everyone on their toes about the big fight, but you know I'm around if you need to talk, right?"
Percy nodded absently. "Yeah."
"And you know," Luke continued. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. To help fight."
Only you were, Percy thought. You were just on the wrong side.
"Back to your table, Castellan!" Dionysus shouted from his seat at table twelve.
"Yes, sir!" Luke called back. He looked back at Percy. "You know where to find me. I'll see you at sword practice. Can't wait to see how much you've improved!"
With that, Luke stood up and hurried back to the Hermes table, taking his seat next to Loki, one of his half-brothers. Loki was younger than Luke, nineteen years old, but he was the closest friend Luke had at the moment. He had been one of the first new sons of Hermes to arrive at camp after the final battle with Kronos, so he didn't even know of Luke's involvement.
A lot of the kids now at the camp were too new to know about Luke's involvement. For that, Percy was actually grateful. It was less chance for Luke to remember the things he'd done. No one knew what remembering would do to him, if he would go insane with guilt or rage, if he would once again try to bring down Olympus. Percy knew that, before Asclepius had erased Luke's memory, the older half-blood had been truly regretful for his actions. He just wondered if that regret remained, would still be there if Luke remembered.
* * * * *
Though his memories had been manipulated and erased, it was obvious that Luke had not forgotten his skills with a sword. He’d once again taken over as instructor for swordplay and, by the way he moved, blade flashing in the late morning sun, it was clear that he was just as good as ever, possibly better. This was where Luke belonged, instructing campers on technique for fighting for survival.
Percy watched Luke as the son of Hermes sparred with Jereth, one of the older, more experienced campers. Jereth, though more comfortable with a bow, being a son of Apollo, kept pace with Luke. Both of them were strong, skilled and confident. It was an intense spar. Jereth's dark dreadlocks danced as he moved, evading Luke’s strikes. Luke's blue and gold eyes were focused on Jereth's watching for signs of the dark teen's next move.
Percy recognized that gaze. He'd been on the receiving end of that look more than once and he knew that Luke was determined to win the match. Jereth might stand a chance against him, but in the end, Luke would be the victor. It all came down to Luke's determination; Jereth was good and confident, but Luke was more so.
There was a reason why Luke had once been called the best swordsman in three hundred years.
Luke moved, almost too quickly to see, and Jereth's sword was on the ground. The point of Luke’s sword was just centimeters from the son of Apollo's throat. Both half-bloods were heaving from exhaustion, sweat pouring down their faces. Luke and Jereth looked at each other for a moment, then Luke lowered his sword.
"And the match is mine," he said, proudly.
The crowd of campers that had been watching burst into applause. Jereth sheathed his sword and headed to get some water, completely parched from exertion. Luke joined him just long enough to catch his breath and re-hydrate. After a moment, he instructed the gathered campers to get their own armor and swords for practice.
Percy left the crowd, going to join Alima in the stables. He hadn't even gotten more than ten feet away when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He turned to see Luke grinning at him.
"Not sticking around?" Luke asked. "Afraid to challenge me?"
Memories of fighting Luke surfaced in Percy's mind. The only reason he'd managed to survive his last fight with Luke was because he'd taken a dip in the River Styx. He had to wonder if that still affected them both. Perhaps that was the reason Luke had won the match against Jereth, not just his sense of determination.
Percy shook his head in response to Luke's question. "I could take you, but I'm scheduled to give pegasus riding lessons."
"Ah," Luke replied. He seemed disappointed. "Well, next time, then, Percy."
Luke headed back to the group of campers waiting for their lessons. Percy watched him head back before turning to cross the camp to the stables. He hurried, knowing he was already running late from watching the match. He just reached the stables when Alima came out to look for him.
"You are late," she told him. "The children of Aura are waiting for their lessons."
"Yeah, I know," Percy replied. "Sorry." He entered the stables and apologized to the waiting group. "Okay, so, let's get started." He went over to the stall where his old friend, Blackjack waited for him.
((Yo, boss!)) the black stallion greeted. ((Long time, no see!))
"Hello, Blackjack," Percy told him. He gave Blackjack an affectionate pat on the nose before turning to the group behind him. "This is Blackjack," he told the gathered campers. "He and I have been through a lot together and he'll be helping with my demonstrations."
((I get apples for this, right?)) Blackjack asked. ((I’d better get apples for this.))
Alima gave a giggle from her spot with the group. As the daughter of Poseidon, she, too, could understand horses and pegasi. The rest of the group simply looked at her like she was crazy. Alima didn't seem to mind. She looked at Percy and smiled; the ability to understand Blackjack was just between the two of them. Percy smiled back at her.
"Riding a pegasus is just like riding a horse," Percy told the group. "Except with pegasi, you have to keep the wings in mind. Don't sit where you'll interfere with the pegasus' wing movements."
He opened the stall door to let Blackjack out, then led both the pegasus and the gathered campers out of the stable into the open campground. Once they were outside, Percy gestured for Alima to approach to help with the demonstration. The girl came forward and Percy helped her up onto Blackjack's back.
"See how Alima is sitting behind the wings? This way, she gives Blackjack freedom to fly. You need to be careful that you stay out of the way when your pegasus is flying. If you get too close to the wings, you can hamper their ability to fly and probably get bucked off."
((I take her up now, right?)) Blackjack asked.
Percy nodded. "Take her up. Don't go too high. We need to be able to see you."
Blackjack gave a shake of his head and whinnied. ((Hang on, little boss!))
He started to gallop, gaining the speed to take off. Stretching his wings, Blackjack leapt into the air and flapped his wings to get airborne. Percy explained to the Aura group that, in order to fly a pegasus, the rider needed to work with their mount; it wasn't just the pegasus' natural ability to fly, but the synchrony of pegasus and rider that made it really work.
After the demonstration was over, Percy brought out a few more of the camp's pegasi and let the Aura group take turns learning how to mount and ride a pegasus. When they took to the air, the children of Aura were almost as comfortable flying as Percy and Alima were. This was because their mother was the goddess of the breeze; reading the winds came naturally to them and enhanced the flying experience.
When rotation came, the Aura children helped bring the pegasi back to the stables and thanked Percy for the lessons. A few stayed behind to talk longer, amongst them, the cabin counselors, a set of twins about sixteen years old. The twins, Emma and Ella, offered to clean up the pegasi, brush out their manes. Their cabin was on break after this last activity, so they had some free time to spare. Percy agreed to let them help, assigning each twin to one pegasi.
One of the twins, Percy wasn't sure which one was which, struck up conversation as they worked. "So, Percy, how long have you been at camp?"
"Since I was twelve," Percy replied. "This is my sixth year here."
"So you know just about everything about camp, right?"
"Not really," Percy admitted. "Six years is nothing compared to some of the other campers here."
The girl nodded, patting the nose of the pegasus she was brushing, a lovely creamy mare. "But you know Luke, right?"
Percy paused. "Sorry, er…"
"Emma," the girl informed him.
"…Emma. I can't really talk about him."
Emma tilted her head, fingering a lock of the mare’s mane. "That's the thing, though," she mused. "It seems no one can. I'm just curious about why."
"I can't tell you that, either, sorry," Percy told her.
Emma turned to look at Ella, exchanging glances with her sister. "We just find that a little strange, right, Ella?"
Ella nodded. "It's like everyone's in on a big secret."
"Very strange," Emma said.
"Indeed," Ella agreed.
Percy was going to tell the twins that the topic of Luke was off-limits, but the girls dropped the subject on their own, going back to work brushing their pegasi. Conversation switched to the next activity on their roster and Percy let them talk on their own. He returned to grooming Blackjack.
((So…)) Blackjack said after a long moment. ((When do I get those apples?))
Author's Note: This is the edited version of this chapter. As I said in the note before, nothing's been changed, I just merged two short chapters together to go with the 5,000 word minimum I set per chapter. Hope you enjoyed!
(1) Asclepius: This name for the physician of the gods came from W.H.D. Rouse's book "Gods, Heroes and Men of Ancient Greece" but I have also seen his name as being Paion. I decided to use Asclepius because it was the name I could confirm better.