𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 • 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯

Train Ride

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain

Nobody or nothing attacked us, but Percy didn't relax. He kept his profile low because his name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton RegisterNews showed a photo taken by a tourist as we got off the Greyhound bus. Percy had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick.

The picture's caption read: 

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be travelling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture. 

"Don't worry," Annabeth told us. "Mortal police could never find us." 

But she didn't sound so sure.

I took some playing cards out of my bag and started playing conga with Annabeth and Grover. I had to teach Percy how to play, and he joined us after watching us play for 3 rounds.

While Grover and Annabeth we sleeping—Annabeth had her head on the window and Grover had his head on her shoulder—I drew. Percy went out for a walk many times, so I sat in his place, by the window until he came back.

I drew what I saw. Mind you, I wasn't very good at it, but I knew some things.

Sometimes, Percy would let me sit by the window if I allowed him to rest his head on my shoulder. I agreed and even though it was harder for me to draw with someone's head on my writing hand shoulder, I managed. Something good and bad was that Percy would talk in his sleep. It was good because sometimes the things he said inspired me. It was bad because sometimes he would freak me out.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. 

His slumber wouldn't last long. Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking him up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Percy and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," I asked Percy, once we'd got Grover's sneaker readjusted."Who wants your help?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked, now sitting up straight.

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?" 

Percy hesitated.

He then told me all about his strange dreams and how he supposedly could hear Hades in them. 

"That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs." I told him.

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?" he argued. 

"I guess...if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld'. If what he wants is war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?" I told him.

Percy shook his head. I shrunk into my seat in thought. 

Grover snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables, and turned his head. I readjusted his cap so it covered his horns. 

"Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right?" I told him, once I was back in my seat. "He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time—" 

"This time?" Percy asked. "You mean you've run into them before?" 

My hand crept up to my camp necklace. I fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of Thalia's tree. 

"Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mum," I finished.

"What would you do if it was your mom?" he asked me.

"I... I don't know," I answered.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, I don't know. I understand she had many duties, but did she have to leave me in an orphanage?" I said.

Percy went silent and I took a deep breath.

"I was only seven months old when I landed on Hallow's Orphanage," I narrated. "My mother had left me on their doorstep with a letter explaining how she couldn't take care of me and what my name and birthdate was. I had no friends, I was an outcast, often treated like a freak. The moon spoke to me about a magical place where I would belong, but never told me how to get there."

I paused.

"After the hunter's first visit to camp, I realized my mother loved them more than me. She taught them new things, was there for them and gave them a home, yet she never did those things to me. Don't get me wrong, I may be jealous of the hunters, but I love them dearly. Every time they would come to camp they would teach me new things, make me laugh, and listen to me when I had something to complain about, after they left I would have been wiser and more skilled than before. I just wish it was my other teaching me those things, and not my adoptive sisters," I finished.

There was silence.

"How old were you?" Percy said. "When you realized you were a half-blood."

"I was seven," I replied.

"But...you couldn't have gotten to Half-Blood Hill by yourself," he said.

"Not alone, no. Artemis watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway," I explained.

I smiled as I remembered my travels with Annabeth, Grover, Luke and Thalia. Then a frown filled my face as I recalled how it had ended. Percy put his hand on top of mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. I turned my head in his direction, smiled and squeezed his hand back, assuring him I would be ok.