The Adventure That Lies Ahead | PJO x HP

CHAPTER 4

The next few days Percy settled into a routine that felt almost normal⎼if you don't count the fact that they were getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur⎼with the help of Isa.

Each morning he took Ancient Greek from Annabeth, and they talked about the gods and goddesses in the present tense, which was kind of weird. He discovered Annabeth and Isa were right about his dyslexia: Ancient Greek wasn't that hard for him to read. At least, no harder than English. After a couple of mornings, Percy could stumble through a few lines of Homer without too much headache.

The rest of the day, he'd rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something he was good at. Chiron tried to teach him archery, but they found out pretty quick he wasn't any good with a bow and arrow. He didn't complain, even when he had to desnag a stray arrow out of his tail. But Isa told him not to worry too much about it because even she was not good at archery.

Foot racing? No good either. The wood-nymph instructors and Isa left him in the dust. Again, they told him not to worry about it. They'd had centuries of practice running away from lovesick gods, and Isa has had five years of running away from the authorities (quite literally: the police, Chiron and Mr. D). Isa also took foot racing at a young age so it developed over time. But still, it was a little humiliating to be slower than a tree and a little nine-year-old.

And wrestling? Forget it. Every time he got on the mat, Clarisse would pulverize him.

"There's more where that came from, punk," she'd mumble in his ear.

The only thing Percy really excelled at was canoeing, and that wasn't the kind of heroic skill people expected to see from the kid who had beaten the Minotaur. But still, Isa was ecstatic when she found out Percy could canoe.

"Canoeing is fun!" Isa tried to cheer him up.

Percy knew the senior campers and counselors were watching him, trying to decide who his dad was, but they weren't having an easy time of it. And yes, Isa is part of those senior campers and the head counselor.

Percy wasn't as strong as the Ares kids, or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. He didn't have Hephaestus's skill with metalwork or⎼gods forbid⎼Dionysus's way with vine plants. Luke told him he might be a child of Hermes, a kind of a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But Percy got the feeling he was just trying to make him feel better. Luke really didn't know what to make of him either.

Despite all that, he liked camp which Isa was glad about. He got used to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night. He would eat dinner with cabin eleven, scrape part of his meal into the fire, and try to feel some connection to his real dad. Nothing came. Just that warm feeling he'd always had, like the memory of his smile. Percy tried not to think too much about his mom, but he kept wondering: if gods and monsters were real, if all this magical stuff was possible, surely there was some way to save her, to bring her back...

Percy started to understand Luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, Hermes. So okay, maybe gods had important things to do. But couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder, or something? Dionysus could make Diet Coke appear out of thin air. Why couldn't his dad, whoever he was, make a phone appear?

Thursday afternoon, three days after Percy had arrived at Camp Half-Blood, he had his first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke and Isa would be their instructor.

They started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. Percy guessed he did okay. At least, he understood what he was supposed to do and his reflexes were good. But Isa was surprised because Percy was actually really good for a beginner.