So I am not, in fact, dead, and I finally found the time and the will to write the next chapter of Death's Apprentice! It's pretty light plot-wise and new character-wise, but hopefully you'll like it; I thought we needed a little break from the serious plot-stuff. This chapter is mostly good-natured fun, but I really enjoyed it, so I hope you guys do, too!

ADDISON

Camp Jupiter was so much better than Hollow Primary.

For one thing, I got to bring Pepsi with me everywhere thanks to our deal with an unsuspecting Manar. Back in Godric's Hollow, toting around a somewhat volatile skunk hadn't really been in the cards, since mortals were notoriously wimpy and unable to deal with the smell of skunk. At Camp, though, these were demigods: kids descended from the Olympians themselves with many of the perks and strengths that entailed. In short, it was the perfect place to unleash a temperamental skunk and use it to threaten, bully, and wheedle the others into getting my way.

Naturally, there were two people who were protected from Pepsi's reign of terror. Maggie was too awesome to spray (or to be threatened by the idea of skunk spray) and Manar was, well, Manar.

"What kind of demigod is Manar, anyway?" I asked Maggie after training one day. Darcy had already left for home with Briggie and Pepsi in tow (they got grumpy around lunchtime), but I'd stayed after to help Maggie clean up.

Maggie snorted and prodded a piece of trash with her toe, a disgusted expression on her face. "She isn't one at all, actually," Maggie answered, glaring at the litter. "Manar's just a clear-sighted mortal. She dropped me off here when I was seven 'cause my gran was busy, and decided she liked it, so she just...hung around."

I gasped at her. "You mean to tell me that she's praetor of the Legion and hasn't got any godly blood?"

Maggie looked extremely proud, and her gold eyes glowed with even more warmth than usual. "That's Manar for you. She babysitted my whole town when I was a kid, so I guess looking after a bunch of teenagers didn't seem so bad after that."

"Gods almighty," I said faintly, shoving my hands into my pockets. "I want to be Manar when I grow up."

"I'd rethink that opinion, if I were you," a new voice said bitterly from behind me.

I whirled, piercing the newcomer with my trademark 'death glare.' Literally, if looks could kill, this one would've, but the guy seemed mostly unaffected, to his credit. He didn't appear more than a year or so older than Maggie, but in the same way I'd been drawn to her, I was repulsed by him. There wasn't anything specific about him to merit such immediately dislike, to be honest; I just didn't like the smirk on his face or the face his jeans were scuffed and dirty or the way he had just insulted Manar, my newfound hero.

"Good thing no one asked you, then," Maggie said shortly, stepping slightly in front of me.

The boy ignored her and looked me over with pale, watery-gray eyes. I tensed, knowing I was being judged, and glared at him even harder. Unfortunately, as before, he remained unworried, probably due to the fact that an eight-year-old girl with pigtails and overalls was trying to melt him into a puddle of goo with her eyes alone, which was both an ineffective and distinctively un-terrifying manner of intimidation. Still, I gave myself an 'A' for effort, if not for execution.

"So you're the new demigod," he said finally, tilting his head to the side. "The daughter of Jupiter."

"What's it to you?" I asked suspiciously. This boy was a snake; even his words slithered and slimed and left an unpleasant feeling in my mouth. I trusted him as far as I could throw him, and given that he was the size of a linebacker and I was, you know, eight, that distance wasn't exactly very long.

He laughed and crossed his arms. "Nothing, really. I'm just taking an interest in the new recruit, yeah? I hardly think basic courtesy merits a glare, now does it, daughter of Jupiter?"

I squinted at him for several seconds, then crossed my own arms, mimicking his stance and trying to appear bigger. "Doesn't seem much like courtesy," I told him. "More like stalkerish tendencies."

Maggie snorted with laughter and apparently decided to intervene, placing one hand firmly on my shoulder (whether to protect me or hold me back, I'm not sure). "Cooper, this is Addison Evans, newest addition to the Second Cohort. Addie, this is Cooper Whitehall, centurion of the First Cohort."

"Pleasure," I said insincerely. "Do you always eavesdrop, or is that just on the kids of Jupiter?"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Evans; I just overheard you two talking about our praetor, and had to intervene before anything too sickening was said."

"Cooper here hates Manar," Maggie explained, a distasteful look on her face. "He says she's unfit for the job."

"Why?"

"Because he's a racist bigot," Maggie said bluntly.

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said about me, Centurion Holmes," Cooper said snidely. "And she is unfit for the position. The job belongs to a demigod or legacy, someone who actually has stake in Camp Jupiter, and Manar is neither. A praetor ought to be descended from the gods."

"Please just shove off, Cooper," Maggie said tiredly. "We've got war games tonight; we'll see enough of each other then."

Cooper tipped his imaginary hat in salute and strutted off towards the city, two of his cronies jumping into line behind him. Maggie and I drew together and stood shoulder to shoulder (well, head to shoulder, thanks to the height difference), staring after his retreating back with no small amount of dislike.

"He's a jerk," I said, frowning so hard I thought the lower half of my face would stick like that. "Do we have to talk to him often?"

Maggie laughed and ruffled my hair, causing me to emit an undignified squeak of protest. "Not if we can help it, kiddo," she said, back at her trademark warmth and fondness. "Only at city meetings and during the war games."

Immediately, my face brightened at the thought of the night's entertainment. "Which game are we doing tonight?"

Maggie's eyes gleamed with excitement, mirroring mine. "Tonight's First versus Second, with the others as spectators. And it's Deathball."

Deathball. I freaking loved Camp Jupiter.

THANATOS

It had been a relatively quiet morning, all things considered. The Morrigan had gone off to stir up death and violence in some poor, unfortunate part of the world, and Darcy and Addie had been with Maggie training for the morning-something about sword fighting, I thought. Darcy, as a matter of fact, had already returned to our house in the city for lunch, but Addie had hung back with Maggie to help clean up after practice. The Second Cohort had a group of boys that were both perpetually hungry and notoriously bad at cleaning up their own trash; therefore, Maggie ended up collecting their trash after whatever practice they had, since the First Cohort nearly always practiced after them and made sure to whine about the Second's messiness.

"What do you want for lunch?" I asked Darcy, who was sitting at the kitchen table, swinging her feet cheerfully.

"Turkey and cheese," Darcy replied immediately. "With juice."

I nodded and headed for our fridge, pulling out what I needed and setting it on the counter. Darcy picked a different sandwich every day; she was one of those kids who got bored quickly and needed to constantly try new things to be happy. Naturally, Addie was the complete opposite, and wanted the exact same thing every lunchtime-and woe be to anyone who denied it.

"How was practice?" I signed to Darcy while preparing her food. "Did anyone give you trouble today?"

Since we'd arrived at Camp Jupiter, Darcy had occasionally been bothered by a few of the older kids in the Legion who poked fun at her being deaf. As Darcy was, of course, deaf, this didn't normally bother her, not being able to hear them and all. Still, they sometimes made the presence too obvious to ignore, and if Addie wasn't there to scowl them into submission or throw a few well-aimed punches, Darcy sometimes struggled to get rid of them.

"Nope," Darcy returned gleefully. "Maggie got me a BB gun and that seemed to do the trick."

I almost knocked Darcy's plate off the counter. "Maggie gave you a gun? Darcy, did you shoot them?"

"Yes," Darcy signed back, beaming. "It doesn't really hurt them because demigods have thicker skin than mortals, but it hurts enough if I aim right."

I blinked several times, nodded to myself, and went back to the sandwich. "She shoots people that bully her," I muttered, shaking my head slightly. "This is fine. It's fine. I'm a terrible parent. This is fine."

The door banged open and Addie stomped inside, leaving her sneakers near the door. "I'm home!" she shouted.

I waved her to the seat next to Darcy and handed the two of them their lunches. Darcy had her turkey and cheese with juice, and Addie, as she did every lunch, had her PB and J on wheat bread, cut into triangles and with a drink of milk.

"Is this the good peanut butter?" Addie asked, eyeing her plate with suspicion.

"Yes, Addison, it's your favorite peanut butter," I said, rolling my eyes. I'd tried using a different kind of peanut butter a few months back, and Addie had refused to eat another bite as soon as she noticed the taste. I probably could have forced her to eat it anyway, which would've been the 'responsible guardian' thing to do, but I just didn't have the heart to let her go hungry when all it took to feed her was her favorite brand of peanut butter. She'd still eat whatever breakfasts or dinners I made for her; lunch, however, had to be the same thing each and every day. It was just one of Addie's quirks.

Immediately after hearing my response, Addie happily dug into her sandwich, excitedly talking with Darcy the whole time. Truth be told, I had difficulty following most of their conversations, and only caught every few words or so. My grasp of sign language was pretty doggone good, but it wasn't second nature like it was for Addie and Darcy. Besides, the two had invented many of their own terms and signs, and all of their conversations were rich with inside jokes and incomprehensible ideas. I doubted that even the most proficient of translators would be able to understand most of what they 'said.'

After mostly finishing her lunch, Addie looked up at me, excitement in her expression. "Guess what, Uncle Death?"

"What's that?" I signed off-handedly, expecting another rant on how cool Addie's new friends Maggie and Manar were.

Her face split into a wide grin. "War games are tonight," she told me. "First versus Second."

"Nice," I returned, a little confused.

"Darcy and I get to be in it this time," she continued, watching me intently.

"Oh," I said aloud, drawing out the sound. "That's awesome, Addie! You'll have lots of fun, I'm sure."

"Will you come watch us?" Darcy cut in, eyes wide and pleading. "We'd like for you to be there."

The girls knew that Darcy was the best at wheedling. Addie, as much as I loved her, closely resembled an imp, and therefore inspired absolutely no trust that whatever you agreed to wouldn't lead to your imminent demise or at least almost mortal injury. Darcy, on the hand, had the most innocent and angelic of faces that I'd ever seen on anyone, including actual angels. You just couldn't deny the kid anything. If she asked you to jump off a cliff, you'd do it, fully expecting the sharp rocks at the bottom to abruptly turn into pillow before you landed. And then you'd suffer a painful death, because as much as Darcy looked like a little angel, she was a little demon with a crooked halo.

Luckily, I'd already intended to go to their first war game. Part of it was curiosity and the desire for entertainment, but to be honest, I mostly wanted to go to cheer for the girls. It was stupid, I know; it wasn't like my cheering would give them any advantage. Still, they were like my kids, especially Addie, and if they were going to compete in something, I wanted to be there to see it. I was their 'uncle', after all, and the most constant parental figure in their lives, and I'd be damned if I missed even a school spelling bee that they were in.

"I'll be there," I told them with a smile. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Not even for a cup of Starbucks coffee?" Addie asked, giggling a little.

I flicked her nose and wiped a smudge of jelly off her cheek. "Not even for Starbucks."

ADDISON

Deathball, as it turned out, was like paintball, but with a much higher risk of death. Instead of firing paint at your opponents, you shot acid, poison, and fireballs at the opposing death. If you got hit, you were out, and would be dragged off the field by the waiting camp medics. The first team to surrender or lose all of their people lost.

Naturally, it was my new favorite game.

Outfitted in Imperial Golden armor and holding an enormous 'paint' gun, Darcy sat on our sofa and waited for me to get ready. We were both a little nervous about the night's planned events, if thoroughly excited, though we showed it in different ways. When I was nervous or antsy, I would spend an inordinate amount of time washing my hands and straightening my clothing or bag; when Darcy was nervous, she would close up and avoid conversation or meeting people's eyes.

As Darcy's best friend, it fell to me to cheer her up, regardless of my own nerves. "What does your gun shoot?"

"No idea," Darcy said, avoiding my gaze. "They said we'd find out when I fired."

Fair enough. I sat down next to her and leaned my armored shoulder into hers. "You know what I think?"

"What?" Darcy didn't seem overly interested, but she met my eyes a little more levelly.

"I think that us winning the match for the Second would get everyone to stop bothering you about being deaf."

"You think so, huh," Darcy signed, tilting her head. She still looked careless, but I could tell that I had her curious "And how would two eight-year-olds and newbies do that?"

I grinned. "I may have gotten a kid of Vulcan from the Fifth to help me alter my gun."

"Is that allowed?"

"There aren't any rules against it because no one's thought to do it. You interested?"

Darcy leaned forward, finally meeting my eyes all the way. A small smile was growing on her face. "I'm listening."

THANATOS

A crowd was starting to gather for the war game. Darkness was a few hours out, but the sun was a long way from its highest position in the sky. I'd managed to feed both of the girls before hustling them out of the house to the field, nearly an hour before the game was set to begin. Despite Addison having told me several times, I wasn't entirely sure what the game was about or what the rules were, but I figured that it would at least be mildly entertaining. They were Romans, after all, and the Roman gladiator wasn't famous for being boring.

Thinking of the gladiators made me start to gnaw my fingernails in worry. The gladiators weren't famous for being safe, either, and anything called a 'war game' had to be somewhat dangerous. Romans did so love their danger and violence as entertainment; it was part of why they hadn't gotten along with the Celts. The two cultures were undeniably similar in their adoration of all things warlike and deadly, if Romans had at least the illusion of civility. Still, these were only kids; surely Maggie wouldn't allow Addie and Darcy to participate in anything too dangerous, as young and inexperienced as they were.

"Alright!" Manar shouted, her voice breaking the uneasy silence with the volume of someone used to yelling over the voices of an army of small children. "In a few minutes, tonight's war game will begin! For the sake of any spectators who've had their heads buried in the dirt the last two weeks, today's is a match between the First and Second Cohorts. The game is Deathball, so anyone hit is out of the game, and the team that either surrenders or loses all of its players loses. The winners of today's match get extra dessert for a month; the losers muck out the stables for two weeks. Is everyone clear?"

There was a noise of assent from the gathered crowd.

"Excellent!" Manar continued, smiling. "May the best team win!"

She scrambled through the crowd to sit in the lawn chair next to me, collapsing into it with a groan of pleasure. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I've been standing for hours trying to get this set up."

"No worries," I said. "Did you say deathball?"

"Oh, yeah," Manar said easily. "You know, it's like paintball, but instead of paint, it's with acid and poison."

"How nice," I said faintly, suddenly glad I wasn't standing, as I was fairly sure my knees would have given out from under me. "That sounds...dangerous."

"Oh, very," agreed Manar brightly. "But we haven't had a death in nearly a year now, so that's good."

"Very," I squeaked, sure that all the color had drained from my already pale face. Forcibly, I shifted my attention from the girl beside me to the field where the match had started, my eyes easily finding Addison's flaming orange hair underneath her helmet. It was difficult to follow her path, since she was comparably so tiny, but she was doing a decent job of both avoiding her opponents' attacks and helping Darcy dodge them. The two girls were working together with one large gun, probably because it was too big for one of them to handle alone.

"Was that a fireball?" I asked Manar, voice much higher than usual.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that one," she said with a laugh. "Some of the guns shoot fireballs, too."

Luckily, the fireball was headed for the First Cohort, and it knocked a few of their players over, leaving them with giant scorch marks, a few burns, and an out from the game.

Suddenly, I realized that Addie seemed to be reloading their gun. While that might seem like a normal thing to do, I happened to know that this type of gun didn't need to be reloaded often, thanks to the creative genius of the kids of Vulcan at Camp Jupiter. Therefore, the question remained: what was Addie doing with ammunition.

Manar had apparently noticed the same thing. "What on Earth-" she muttered, half-rising from her chair.

My question was quickly answered. Addie crouched down, letting Darcy rest the heavy gun on her shoulder. Darcy took aim and fired at the biggest legionnaire, the centurion Cooper, Instead of being hit with poison or acid or even a fireball, the kid was hit with some sort of water balloon-esque projectile, though I doubted Addie would attack someone packing a fireball with water. As it turned out, I was very right, and the First Cohort's side of the field was immediately enveloped in a disgustingly green cloud of smoke and the nauseatingly out-of-place smell of skunk.

"She weaponized Pepsi's spray," I realized, standing up abruptly. "She weaponized the spray! THAT'S MY GIRL! SHE WEAPONIZED THE SPRAY!"

"Oh my gods," Manar said. "That's skunk spray?"

"Damn right!" I said approvingly. "WAY TO GO, ADDIE!"

The Second Cohort cheered and advanced as the smoke cleared and they say the players from the First look dazed, shaky, and nauseated, with several of them violently throwing up on the edges of the field. With the First briefly out of commission, the Second was able to tag most of them in relatively short order, with only a few brave stragglers putting up something of a fight. Within minutes, the game was won, and the First staggered dazedly from the field, too bewildered to be angry about their loss.

Finally, Manar stood, looking nearly as thrown by the results of the game as the First had. "Right," she said, clearing her throat. "While that was a somewhat unpredictable turn of events, I see no reason why a...a stink gun should be illegal in Deathball, though I would have appreciated a heads up, for future reference."

There was some minor grumbling from the ranks of the First, but no one had the energy to protest.

"Right," Manar said again. "I, er...I suppose that means victory goes to the Second Cohort with a record time."

The cheers from the Second shook the field, and I felt wind brush against my hair, bringing with it the powerful stench of skunk.

"Congratulations and dessert and all that," Manar said, still looking a little lost. Her nose wrinkled, and a foul expression crossed her face. "I believe some baths are necessary. You're all free to go. Have a nice night and good luck getting rid of the smell; I'm sure we have some tomato juice somewhere."

Slowly, the teams trickled from the field in the direction of the baths, and I waited for my two charges to make their way through the crowd.

"Uncle Death, Uncle Death!" I heard. "We did it!"

"I saw!" I said, sweeping Addison off the ground and spinning her around in a circle. "You did wonderfully!"

There was a tug at my shirt, and I set Addie down to see a smiling Darcy. "I shot people," she signed proudly. "Lot of people."

"You sure did," I told her, unable to contain my smile. "You were fantastic, both of you. I couldn't be prouder."

"We thought it would be funny," Addie signed, bumping shoulders with Darcy. Both of the girls were practically vibrating with energy and excitement, clearly delighted by their success.

"It was brilliant," I told them honestly, resting a hand on both of their shoulders. "Addie, it was a great idea, and Darcy, you executed it perfectly. You're a fantastic shot, you know."

Darcy puffed out her small chest. "I like guns," she confided.

I ruffled her hair. "It's a good weapon for you."

We started the walk back to the house and the whole way, Addie and Darcy chatted and bickered about who did better and which person they should aim for during the next game. I was content to watch them for the most part, though I jumped in every now and then if the bickering got too intense. They were like sisters, after all, and sisters are both the best of friends and the worst of enemies. Regardless, they got along quite well, considering, and I mostly let them do their thing.

It took a long time to coax the girls into bed once we got home after being so wired during the game, but after a few hours, I was finally able to leave them with the light off. The Morrigan was waiting downstairs, ignoring the chairs in favor of sitting on the counter.

"Hello, dear," I said, moving her feathered cloak from the table and hanging it on the coat rack. "Would you like some dinner? We have some leftovers."

"Sure," the Morrigan said. "I'm starving. Is it red meat?"

"Mac and cheese," I said, retrieving it from the fridge.

"Even better," she said enthusiastically. "Mac and cheese is the food of magic."

I laughed, sticking the container in the microwave and heating the food up. "Well, the girls agree with you, anyway. How was your day?"

The Morrigan rolled her eyes and tossed her red hair over her shoulder. "Boring," she spat. "The leaders decided to negotiate a peace treaty instead of go to war."

I patted her on the back consolingly. "Maybe there'll be an assassination tomorrow that'll spark a new war for you," I said encouragingly. "Or the Soviet Union will send another fake transmission to screw with the Americans."

"One can only hope," said the Morrigan with a shrug. "How was your day?"

The microwave beeped, and I handed the Morrigan her food with a fork. "The girls won the Second Cohort their war game," I told her proudly. "They were fantastic."

"Excellent," the Morrigan said, pleased. "Addison takes after me."

"Really," I continued. "Addie created stink bombs with Pepsi's spray and used them against the other team, and Darcy was a superb shot. I think she going to be one hell of a sharpshooter when she gets a little bigger."

The Morrigan pointed her fork at me. "You're turning into a sap, Thanatos."

I snorted. "I am not either."

"Are so," she shot back. "You're like a first time mom bragging about her kids."

"I'm a first time uncle," I retorted. "Or master, or whatever. Guardian. It's all new to me."

"I bet you keep scrapbooks," the Morrigan teased. "With pictures of the girls."

I stiffened. "Don't be ridiculous. That's entirely unmanly and sentimental and-"

"You do have one!" the Morrigan crowed in delight. "You do, don't you? I can see it in your face."

I sighed and let my head droop. "Three, actually," I muttered. "With the little...stickers and notes and stuff."

"By Danu, this is too good," the Morrigan said, cackling. "You're Thanatos, the Greek god of death, feared by mortals and gods alike, and you keep scrapbooks."

."Hush," I said, poking her nose grumpily. "Or I won't make you mac and cheese."

The Morrigan laughed. "We can't have that."

A few minutes passed in contented silence as the Morrigan polished off the leftover macaroni and I worked on the crossword in the day's newspaper. For two gods of death, it was an entirely domestic scene, and it brought with it a sense of familiarity and something inexplicably home. If this was what having a family and proper home felt like, I'd been missing out for the last few eons spending my time cooped up in my Underworld office.

"Hey, Thanatos," the Morrigan said, breaking the silence. "Do you think you could...could show me some of the scrapbooks. Not for sentimental reasons, obviously, just to see how much Addison has grown in her powers."

"Obviously," I said, unable to hold in a smile. "Why don't we look at one of them on the sofa?"

And so we spent our evening curled up on the couch, enjoying the moving pictures of a younger, less freckled Addie, with just as much attitude and personality as her larger self.

Life was pretty good.

And that's a wrap! I hope you guys liked it. Remember, please feel free to leave a review about whatever you think. Next up: we introduce a new friend and fight an epic enemy. I can't give you guys a solid idea on when I'll update next (because by now you know I stink at deadlines), but I'll try to be a little quicker. With that in mind, catch you guys later!