Chapter 20

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Twenty
𖧷

The Return To Camp

  We arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaurs’ travel powers. I rode on Chiron’s back, but we didn’t talk much, especially not about Kronos. I knew it had been difficult for Chiron to tell me. I didn’t want to push him with more questions. I mean, I’ve met plenty of embarrassing parents, or rather, had plenty of embarrassing parents, but Kronos, the evil titan lord who wanted to destroy Western Civilization? Not the kind of dad you invited to school for career day.

  When we got to camp, the centaurs were anxious to meet Dionysus. They’d heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-Blood Hill.

  The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a Draco Aionius (which as near as I could figure was Latin for “really-big-lizard-with-breath-that-blows-stuff-up”). The Big House’s rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo cabin, who were the best healers along with me–but until now, I was away on a quest–had been working overtime performing first aid. Everybody looked weary and battered as we crowded around Thalia’s tree.

  The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten, turning from gray to liquid silver. A cool breeze rustled in the branches and rippled through the grass, all the way into the valley. Everything came into sharper focus—the glow of the fireflies down in the woods, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach.

  Gradually, the needles on the pine tree started turning from brown to green. Everybody cheered. It was happening slowly, but there could be no doubt—the Fleece’s magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power and expelling the poison.

  Chiron ordered a twenty-four/seven guard duty on the hilltop, at least until he could find an appropriate monster to protect the Fleece. He said he’d place an ad in Olympus Weekly right away. In the meantime, Clarisse was carried on her cabin mates’ shoulders down to the amphitheater, where she was honored with a laurel wreath and a lot of celebrating around the campfire.

  Nobody gave Annabeth, me or Percy a second look. It was as if we’d never left. In a way, I guess that was the best thank-you anyone could give us, because if they admitted we’d snuck out of camp to do the quest, they’d have to expel us. And really, I didn’t want any more attention. It felt good to be just one of the campers for once, and not a celebrity, son of a virgin goddess that swore to hate men.

  Later that night, as we were roasting s’mores and listening to the Stoll brothers tell us a ghost story about an evil king who was eaten alive by demonic breakfast pastries, Clarisse shoved me from behind and whispered in my ear, "Just because you were cool one time, (l/n), don’t think you’re off the hook with Ares. I’m still waiting for the right opportunity to pulverize you. Kinda."

  The last part was a quiet mutter that I thought I wasn't supposed to hear, but I did.

  I gave her a small smile.

  "What?" she demanded.

  "Nothing," I said. "Just good to be back home."

The next morning, after the party ponies headed back to Florida, Chiron made a surprise announcement: the chariot races would go ahead as scheduled. We’d all figured they were history now that Tantalus was gone, but completing them did feel like the right thing to do, especially now that Chiron was back and the camp was safe.

𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹Where stories live. Discover now