LUNACY; percy jackson

chapter 1

[act two; chapter one     -     border control]

    Her life had never been so quiet. So near to silent. Not in her almost fourteen years of life. For the past nine months, she had lived in a small, quiet place in Maine with Ariadne, her step-mother of sorts. They had lived in a quiet place, where their nearest neighbor lived more than a mile away. They had been untouched by the world of the gods, or the monsters that came with it. Andromeda had gone to school. Real school for the first time in her entire life. It had been fun; she'd made new friends. And gotten closer to old ones. She had found herself sending letters to the only person at Camp who was there all year, the only person who she knew would respond.

    Clarisse. They had gotten close, the two of them. They were friends now. With every letter she sent, Clarisse responded back with one of her own, as well as a photo of whatever had been happening there. Nothing much ever happened, though. Not since Luke left. Not since others started following after him. That was, however, until Thalia's tree began oozing sap and losing leaves at an unprecedented rate. And when Andromeda found herself feeling ill. When she found herself drenched in sweat and unable to remain balanced on her own two feet.

    She had been back at Camp for several weeks, then.

    She had found herself in and out of the infirmary, always being worried over by her father or by Chiron. Even by Clarisse, and, eventually, others as they began to return for the summer.

    One thing, however, that had not changed was Andromeda's insistence on helping with Camp security; monitoring the boundaries. Which was how she found herself sitting on Half-Blood Hill under the sun, her head tipped toward the sky. She could feel the beaded sweat dripping slowly down the side of her temple, and she tried to ignore the forever-insistent ringing of her ears.

    Since she had woken up that morning, rolling over in her bed, the fan on her face, she had felt as though something was wrong. She couldn't place it, couldn't quite figure it out. But, somewhere in her gut, something was off. Something lingered in the air, almost something akin to lightning waiting to strike.

    Eventually, as it always did, the wrong made its appearance. It just so happened to be when Andromeda was completely alone.

    She had been the first, and only, person to see them as they encroached over the top of the hill. They, the subject in question, were large, bronze. Two bulls.

    They were charging her, she realized. Running towards her, nothing human, nothing mortal about them. They were all mechanical, all and only automated to kill. Andromeda turned towards the slope of the hill, towards Camp, and, with her hands cupped over her mouth, she projected, feeling magic flow through her veins. "Clarisse!" It sounded as if she were speaking through a megaphone, an ability—thanks to her grandfather—that she recently obtained.