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chapter two. ( the titain's curse ) ❝the new claire moore! ❞
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Sitting in the Big House, waiting for Hannah to come was probably the most nerve wracking thing yet. Hannah herself was a demigod, she understood the dangers better than anyone, but she never experienced a quest, or anything rather amazing. Hannah lived her life at Camp Half-Blood as a child of Hermes, trained, ate, slept, trained, hung out with friends, ate, slept ... the same routine over and over—except she had to deal with monsters breaking into camp more often than not. In some ways, I was a lot luckier than her to be able to walk around Camp without a trouble in the world. I'm safe, and I'm happy—at least, I was.
Chiron had a plate of cookies on the table, as usual. I've only had one so far, but I fear that is all I will need. Appetite doesn't exist when you're dead, but it exists when you're living, since I'm both, I'm not exactly sure how that will work.
I could hear them talking in the other room. I'm not exactly sure on what they're saying, but I am for certain that it's about me. You just have this feeling when it's about you. Without realising, you just become more aware of the environment around you, because someone is judging you not far away. It must be some sort of instinct, I don't know. But it happened, and I can tell.
I wanted to hear what they were saying. Maybe it was about the prophecy, or about what Hades has done to me, or perhaps about something different entirely. For a second, I thought, oh that will be easy, I can just turn invisible—and then I realised I couldn't anymore.
Okay, I rolled my eyes, let's do this the old fashioned way.
I went to get up and sneak towards the door, but then it opened, and I rushed to sit back down. I grabbed another cookie, leaning back so it was nonchalant and not as if I was just about to eavesdrop on a—probably—very secret conversation.
Hannah looked different. She had chopped her hair off so it fell just below her jawline. She look sophisticated—she always looked sophisticated, it came with being born in a rich family. It suited her, but it made her look old. But I guess that was the point. The biggest change, however, was the ring that sat on the fourth finger on her left hand.
My eyes bulged. She got engaged? She was getting married? To who? Cory? It had to be Cory—what if it wasn't Cory?
"Claire!" Hannah breathed and ran over. She pulled me up and into a hug. I was afraid I might die again if she squeezed too hard: 'Hey Hades, sorry, I kinda got hugged to death.' "Oh, my gods! You're alive!"
