The Battle for Olympus

Hazel

Hazel ran all night, so when she finally came upon a mossy clearing she collapsed. Frank managed to pack the essentials; a sleeping bag, water bottle, jerky and crackers, fresh change of clothes, and a roll of toilet paper. Thankful it was summer, Hazel unrolled her sleeping back under a tree with a thick trunk. Maybe a redwood, she thought absently before drifting off.

Her dreams were just wisps, grayish tendrils of her old life. Sammy throwing his head back laughing, her mother brushing a strand of hair out of her face, Percy and Frank staring down at her, their brows knit in concern. The images turned stranger, things she'd never seen before. A dark-haired girl in a silver parka staring up a metal warrior, a winged creature with a flaming whip watching two figures fight on a beach, a much younger Percy, Annabeth, and a faun standing at huge bronze doors. Reyna's eyes were smokey pits when she turned to face Hazel. You're the most powerful demigod I've ever encountered. A young Nico huddled by green flames, a ghostly figure at his side. A Stygian iron sword lifted from the River Styx. The images flashed faster and faster, forcing Hazel to close her eyes. Embrace it, Hazel Levesque, a voice cooed, embrace us!

Hazel jolted awake, grasping the sides of her sleeping bag. The sun was still high in the sky, and Hazel blinked until her eyes adjusted.

"I'm glad you're awake," said a voice across the clearing.

Hazel whipped out her knife.

"Relax, Hazel." The stranger stepped out into the light, horns clearly visible over his messy brown hair. "I'm a friend."

Hazel gasped. "You're the faun from my dream!"

He winced. "I prefer the term satyr, but I can't hold you romans accountable for that. My name is Grover Underwood and I think we need to have a chat."

He sat across from her on a fallen log and folded his hands.

"How-" Hazel cleared her throat. "How did you find me? And how do you know my name?"

Grover pointed with his chin at her tree. "The redwoods told me you were here. Some of the greatest dryads of this era. And I've been having dreams about you, Hazel. I've met three children of the underworld, and your skill set is vastly different from the other two."

"You knew Nico and Bianca."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Grover said simply. "But I'm here for you."

Hazel set her hand on the soft moss, running her fingers through. "Why?" she finally asked

"Because," Grover said, "I think you are the key to defeating Gaea."

Hazel shook her head. "Listen, I'm barely a member of the legion. I can make tunnels, and-and find minerals but you're talking about a primordial goddess. No one has that power!"

"No one yet," Grover corrected. "That's why you're here. These dryads and I can help you discover your powers. You call them a curse, but you have to see them as a gift." He smiled a little. "Percy rejected his legacy at first too, you know. You remind me of him."

"So you want me to... what? Play nature retreat while Camp Jupiter prepares for war? I have to stop them!"

"No, you have to stop Gaea. That war you want to prevent means nothing if you can't."

Another impossible task for Hazel, she grumbled to herself. Goodie. "So what's the plan?"

Grover smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." He nodded to a spot above her head. Hazel turned and caught her breath. From the tree behind her, a figure emerged, her skin the color and pattern of the bark of the redwood and her eyes a deep amber. At least seven feet tall, the dryad towered over them, ancient power radiating from her.