The Arrow of Light | A Percy Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter Two - The Flying Trees of Destiny

With all the ruckus that was going on, I was pretty sure I heard his name wrong. "Underwear?" I shouted as I leaped forward, striking a harpy in the heart. It shrieked and cried out to the sky, disintegrating to dust. Whipping around, I slashed another creature in the chest, and it evaporated into the wind.

"Not underwear, Underwood!" Grover shouted as I shoved the dagger into a harpy's skull.

"This is actually pretty useful," I yanked out the blade as the harpy crumbled away, staring at my blurred reflection, "Too bad I didn't have this thing sixteen years ago."

"Wait," Grover started to say, "You've fought these sorts of monsters for sixteen years of your life? Without a celestial bronze blade?"

"Uh, yeah," I said as I sliced at the fourth harpy with ease, "You need to teach me this magic vine thing; it's pretty useful."

"That's strange," Grover frowned, "They usually don't last alone past the sixth grade."

"Well, I never went to school, so maybe that's why," I laughed sarcastically, "I lived on the streets; a homeless."

Leaning the blade against Ms. Weasel's throat, who just happened to be the last harpy, I watched her reaction as she hissed and spat at me. It was enough to end her life, leaving the Fred Meyer saleswoman blowing away in the rainy breeze. I attempted to hand back the dagger, although I was going to miss it. Maybe I thought about stealing it for a moment, but to my delight he shook his head and pushed my hand back. "You need it," He said sternly, "Until we get you a proper weapon."

"Hold up," I held up a hand, "You're telling me to follow a complete stranger that I've never met before, even though you kind of saved my life. Thank you, by the way."

Grover bent over and awkwardly gave my hand a high five, which was not the exact reason I was holding up my hand, "You're... Special, Astra. I'm going to need to take you somewhere safe and to nurture your abilities."

He grabbed hold of my arm, and led me out of the park, waving his free arm wildly and whistling loud enough to break your eardrums to call a cab. The rain plummeted against our heads, causing Grover's curly hair to stick to his scalp like a swimming cap. "Wait a minute," I frowned, "I never told you my name."

Dodging my remark, he continued to look around for an empty taxi, "I'm surprised none of our scouting satyrs have found you. For sixteen years, as a matter of fact."

"Satyrs?" I scoff, "Those half men, half goat people in mythology? Yeah, right."

He immediately ripped of his beanie as I spoke, revealing two small horns peeping out of his brown, curly hair. "Satyr," He grumbled, "Proof."

"Wha-," I couldn't remove my eyes from the  sight.

Grover grumbled under his breath as a yellow cab pulled over, while shoving his hat back on, "They never do anything right. And her scent is really strong; how confusing," As the car rolled down the window, he whispered nervously, "Camp Half-Blood, Long Island Sound."

The only thought that went through my mind was: Did I smell funny?

The door opened on its own, and I was immediately shoved into the car. Damp puddles drenched the seats of the slowly crumbling vehicle. The cracked ceiling leaked slipping rain drops. "Isn't this a kidnapping?" I argued as Grover nervously buckled his seat belt, and went back to shuffling in his bag.

"I'll be taking you to a place where you'll be safe and able to nurture your abilities," He mumbled, "Now where are my spare drachmas?"

"A what now?" I asked, and a large, scaly hand was shoved in front of my face.