𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍‚ percy jackson

chapter seven

12.17.2007

CHAPTER SEVEN: QUEST DAY, BITCHES!

I can't believe this is the life Percy Jackson has been living for years. He doesn't realise how lucky he is, getting to leave camp and go on quests every time one is announced. 

Olympus forbid he let someone else share the spotlight for once.

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THALIA PICKED HER UP AT THE ASS-CRACK OF DAWN.

Diana awoke to the sweet serenade of incessant pounding on Cabin Two's door. 

"Quest day, bitch! Open up!"

Diana did, in fact, open up, fixing her glare on Thalia, who was standing there with a lazy smirk.

"Ready to go?"

Diana had packed after returning from her fruitless trip to the Big House's attic. She'd then lain awake for hours, tossing and turning with a satisfied sense of anticipation. So needless to say, she was tired.

"The sun isn't even up yet!" She complained, but she grabbed her bag nonetheless, and joined Thalia on her walk to the camp border.

Camp Half-Blood was eerily quiet ─ it was unnatural, Diana thought. Each footstep felt thunderous, each movement echoed. She felt quite unsettled by the silence of it all; she was so used to shouts and laughter, the camp felt empty with everyone soundly in their beds.

Parked just by the border, along the old farm road, was a dingy white van. Zoë and Bianca were already waiting, Zoë looking rather impatient. Bianca fiddled with her new archer's bow.

"Where's your third?" Thalia called in place of a greeting.

"She is bedridden," Zoë replied shortly. Diana raised her eyebrows at the unexpected answer.

"She was the victim of a foolish prank, by two of thy campers," Zoë continued. "Centaur blood was sprayed on the inside of the shirt they led me to believe was a gift."

Diana winced. Everyone knew centaur blood was like acid.

"So we only have five now?" Thalia asked.

"Yes," came Zoë's reply.

"The prophecy said six. We should choose one more. What about-"

"There is no time," Zoë cut off Thalia with a tone of finality. Thalia glared at Zoë, who was completely unfazed. "We must leave as soon as thy Satyr arrives."

As if on cue, Grover scrambled onto the road, almost tripping over his own hooves in his haste. "I'm here! I'm here!"

"Good. Let us depart."

Thalia's displeasure at being ordered around by Zoë was written all over her face. It deepened when Bianca reached the front seat before she did, leaving her demoted to the back of the van with Grover and Diana.

Climbing in behind Grover, Diana settled herself in a seat by the window with a yawn. Thalia slid in behind her, slamming the door shut and grumbling obscenities about Zoë, who hopefully could not hear anything from the driver's seat.

The van jolted forward and rumbled along the rough path. Diana gazed through the window eagerly. An odd feeling bloomed in her chest; it was a mix of tiredness and anticipation and nervousness, all swirling together.