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chapter nineteen. ☄︎. *. ⋆
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IF YOU EVER WANT to know what it's like to be treated like a celebrity, go on a deadly quest that you have a slim chance of returning from, and then return from it. When we got back to camp, Percy and I were given the superstar treatment. According to camp tradition—a tradition I'd never gotten the chance to see in action, since Luke was the last quest a camper had gone on since I arrived at camp (and he obviously wasn't very successful)—we wore big laurel wreaths to a huge feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the campfire where we burned shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.
Mine was beautiful. Will had led our siblings in creating a golden shroud with glittering fabric that looked to be sewn from a sunset. There was a lyre at the top, the symbol of Apollo, and the entire shroud shimmered in the firelight. I was almost sad to burn it. It felt wasteful.
My cabin led the sing-along by the campfire and passed out the s'mores. Before I could bust out my Broadway-worthy singing skills, I had to admire Grover's new Searcher's License that the Council of Cloven Elders had granted him, for his performance on our quest had been "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past."
I was so proud of him, I almost tackled him into the fire pit with my hug.
Even Mr. D's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brats didn't get themselves killed and now they'll have even bigger heads. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday..."
Once again, camp felt lively and homey. I had almost a permanent smile on my face. My mornings, I spent sleeping in lazily. I devoted my afternoons to sparring with my friends and even a little bit of developing my Photokinesis skills—which, I'm proud to admit, were actually coming along nicely. Annabeth was mystified when I explained to her that even my father had no idea how I had received them; when I told Percy, he challenged me to a one-on-one battle (which I gladly declined—I figured I needed to build up my skills a little more before I could take him on); and Grover, before he left on his search for Pan, told me he was so proud, he felt like an old mama goat.
He left on the Fourth of July. Percy, Annabeth and I were sprawled across a picnic blanket on the top of Half-Blood Hill when he came to say goodbye.
"I'm off," he said. "I just came to... well, you know."
I tried to feel happy for him, but I had grown close to him during our quest, so it was a little bittersweet. You know, it's not everyday that a satyr is granted permission to go on a worldwide hunt for the god of the wild. I was beyond excited for Grover.
