WAIT FOR ME [ nico di angelo ]

Octavian needs a new hobby then stabbing teddy bears

LOUIS WAS ANNOYED at how much Reyna cuts him off. She does it all the time. But now it was getting to the point where he couldn't stand it. And now here he was, leaving camp with the new kid and Hazel, all to go and see the horrible Octavian.

As they left camp, Hazel bought Percy an espresso drink and a cherry muffin from Bombilo the two-headed coffee merchant.

Percy literally inhaled the muffin. Although Louis couldn't blame him, they were pretty good.

As they walked, Percy watched a bunch of kids in swimsuits and towels head into a building that had steam coming out of a row of chimneys. Laughter and watery sounds echoed from inside, like it was an indoor pool.

"Bath house," Hazel said. "We'll get you in there before dinner, hopefully. You haven't lived until you've had a Roman bath." Percy sighed with anticipation. Must of been a long time since this guy showered.

As they approached the front gate, the barracks got bigger and nicer. Even the ghosts looked better—with fancier armor and shinier auras. "You guys are divided into different cabins?" Percy asked.

"Sort of." Hazel ducked as a kid riding a giant eagle swooped overhead. "We have five cohorts of about forty kids each. Each cohort is divided into barracks of ten—like roommates, kind of."

Percy had never been great at math, but he tried to multiply. "You're telling me there's two hundred kids at camp?"

"Roughly."

Louis decided to jump into the conversation. "More like thousands! The amount of people I've seen around this camp is insane."

"And all of them are children of the gods? The gods have been busy." 

Hazel laughed. "Not all of them are children of major gods. There are hundreds of minor Roman gods. For example, Louis here is a son of Fortuna, goddess of chance. Plus, a lot of the campers are legacies—second or third generation. Maybe their parents were demigods. Or their grandparents."

Percy blinked. "Children of demigods?"

As soon as Hazel said that, he imeadently thought of Octavian. Louis despised Octavian. And if he was being compleatly honest, he was pretty scared of him. 

"Why? Does that surprise you?"

"These Legos—"

"Legacies," Hazel corrected.

"They have powers like a demigod?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes not. But they can be trained. All the best Roman generals and emperors—you know, they all claimed to be descended from gods. Most of the time, they were telling the truth. The camp augur we're going to meet, Octavian, he's a legacy, descendant of Apollo. He's got the gift of prophecy, supposedly."

"Supposedly?"

"That guy can't do anything to save his life. Hazel here is being nice to him by using the word supposedly. More like he has no talent, a wannabe oracle, waste of space." Correct Louis.

Percy made a face. "I have no idea what you mean."

Hazel made a sour face. "You'll see."

"So the divisions," he asked, "the cohorts, whatever—you're divided according to who your godly parent is?"

Both Hazel and Louis stared at him as if he were insane. "That's the worst idea anyone has ever said!"

"No," continued Hazel, adding onto Louis's remark. "The officers decide where to assign recruits. If we were divided according to god, the cohorts would be all uneven. I'd be alone."