ATLANTIS | j. grace

four

CHIRON HAD "INVITED" them inside. Well, except Drew. She had been sent back to her cabin, which she didn't seem happy about, to Elle's delight.

The centaur trotted over to the empty wheelchair on the porch. He slipped off his quiver and bow and backed up to the chair, which opened like a box. Chiron carefully stepped into it with his back legs and began scrunching himself into a space that should've been much too small. The centaur's lower half disappeared and the chair folded up, popping out a set of fake human legs covered in a blanket, so Chiron appeared to be a regular mortal guy in a wheelchair.

"Follow me," he ordered. "We have lemonade."

Elle shot Jason a worried glance.

He nodded, trying to signal that everything would be fine, although worry reflected in his eyes.

Out of all the weird things Elle had seen today, the living room was, without a doubt, the weirdest. Grapevines curled up the walls and across the ceiling. They were leaf green, bursting with bunches of red grapes. Couches faced a stone fireplace, which had a bright crackling fire within it. Wedged in a corner was an old-fashioned Pac-Man arcade game.

The machine didn't make a single sound, but Elle heard it beep and pew in her head as a dark-haired boy slammed his hands on the top with a groan while she cheered and whooped happily.

She shook her head, shaking herself away from the vision.

"Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself."

Elle looked around wildly. Who the fuck is Seymour?

The girl nearly leaped out of her skin when her eyes landed on a stuffed leopard's head above the fireplace. It snarled and glared at the blond boy. But when it noticed Elle, it released a purr similar to a house cat's.

Nothing in the room matched, especially not the horrendous grapevine pattern, eyesore wallpaper, and deep purple carpet.

"You must excuse the décor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it would help us to remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor."

"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?"

"God, I hate Mr. D," a twelve-year-old Elle groaned.

"Yeah, me too."

The girl screamed, whipping around. She had thought no one was down by the beach, but was clearly wrong.

A boy her age lay sprawled on the sand, dressed in an orange shirt and tan cargo shorts. A young version of the boy from the volleyball courts, present-day Elle realized.

"Sorry," he said. He didn't sound sorry. In fact, he was grinning. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Aris."

Elle smiled. "Elle."

"Yeah, I know. You're big talk around here." Aris sat up, smirking at the girl.

"Oh really?" Elle wasn't sure if she should smirk or smile, but Elle hated overly-arrogant boys, so she smirked back.

"Big time. Gossip about new kids travels faster than Hermes' mail delivery."

Elle wasn't sure how fast Hermes' mail delivery traveled, but she assumed it was pretty quick, considering he could already put a name to her face. She sat down beside the boy, curling her knees to her chest and resting her arms on them.

"So what'd Mr. D do?" Aris questioned. He tilted his head, observing the girl at every angle.

"He's just difficult to deal with," Elle explained. "Percy — you've heard about him too, right?" The boy nodded, and Elle continued. "He keeps threatening to turn him into a dolphin. And he keeps calling me the wrong name. Not to mention he's just really freaking obnoxious."