Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.

1. Hobbes

Learning that the hyper-powerful Greek gods of old were around, lording over their domains and occasionally creating demigods with fantastical abilities, surprised Percy Jackson as it would any other person.

"The gods?" he repeated, hoping the creature across from him realized how ridiculous it sounded. "Are you telling me Greek myth is real?"

Sometime during his questioning, Percy had stopped stroking the rose next to him. His fingers ran across the pink petals gently. There, in Madison Square Garden, on that very bench he so often visited, the goat-man calling himself Grover Underwood had found Percy sitting.

"Yes, it's all real. Gods, monsters, heroes… you don't believe me, do you?" Grover asked, sounding a bit put-out. "I took my time explaining things!"

"Well, it's just hard to believe," Percy shrugged. He let his hand pulled away from the rose, curling his fingers. With that gesture, the rose's stem elongated, stretching to reach him again. It didn't take long. The petals soon touched his palm, stopping their sudden growth.

Grover's eyes went wide. He pointed with a shaky finger. "Explain that then! Chlorokinesis. You can control plants!"

"So?"

"What do you mean? You must be a child of Dionysus or Demeter with that power." Grover almost sounded hysterical. "Nature always wins!"

Percy wagged his finger and made the flower do a little wiggle. It danced for him, waving back and forth for some time, the petals blooming and then closing in stages.

If he were somewhere else—maybe a small village or straight-laced town—people might have cast Percy odd glances because of his activities. A few hundred years ago, and he'd probably have been burned at the stake or something equally as painful. Given the place and age he lived in, though, he figured people reasoned their suspicion as him being a fraudulent street-performer.

And that suited him just fine. Nobody ever stopped to ask him questions or give him money. Percy was allowed the freedom to entertain himself. New York City never stopped to consider him as anything but another body.

"If Greek monsters and gods were real, why hasn't the government done something? Pretty sure people would be freaking out."

"Haven't you wondered why people aren't looking at you too closely while you're doing… that?" Grover asked, gesturing to the dancing plant.

Percy shrugged. "Is there a good reason?"

"The Mist. It's like a veil that separates the reality humans can comprehend and the real reality—uh, if that makes sense," Grover tried to explain, his hands making odd motions while he spoke. "You and I can see through it, meaning we notice monsters, gods, and all the crazy stuff that comes along with the supernatural. Humans can't see monsters or anything related to our reality."

"Why are you putting your fake feet back on, then?"

Grover sighed and leaned back on the bench. "Well, satyrs aren't always covered by the Mist. Not sure why. Maybe Hecate has a grudge against us or something."

"Hecate?"

"Goddess of Magic. She controls the Mist, makes sure things run smoothly and that mass panic doesn't envelop the world."

"Tough job."

"Must be. She's not on good terms with the gods right now."

"That explains some things, then. But what if I wasn't a child of a god? What if a meteor gave me these powers?" Percy asked, flicking his wrist, making the rose's stem contort and writhe. "Or what if I cut myself on a radioactive thorn and got superpowers that way?"

With his suggestion, several reddish-green spines sprouted from the stem, popping up like unwanted acne. Each was longer than usual and serrated as if they were going to be used for cutting open a juicy tomato or fresh loaf of bread.

Grover actually bleated and shook his head. "No way! I mean, okay, humans are kinda crazy with their experiments, so it's possible, but the chances are almost zero. Can you honestly say that's how it happened? Or have you always been attached to nature?"

Percy pulled away from the rose, but not before tapping it once with his index finger. He watched sullenly as it underwent rapid atrophy, drying and dying in the space of four heartbeats. "I suppose you got me there. So, then, which is it? Demeter? Dionysus?"

"Well that's not hard to figure out," Grover puffed his chest out. "Do you live with your mom or dad? If it's your mom, then probably Dionysus. If it's your dad, then probably Demeter."

The rationale was sound in Percy's opinion. "Why only probably?"

"There are a lot of minor gods out there. There's a chance you might be one of their kids, but..."

"You don't think that's the case," Percy finished the thought.

Grover nodded along. "Yeah, I don't. The way you control plants just seems so effortless. I mean, it's really cool, don't get me wrong, but I'm a bit envious too. Strange to think no other satyr smelled you if you're an Olympian's kid."

"Olympian? The twelve major gods?"

"Mhm. They're typically the most powerful gods. By that math, their kids are usually the most powerful half-bloods."

Percy looked at the sky. It was cloudy, and he felt a bit drained after having messed with the rose bed for nearly thirty minutes.

"Do all the Olympians have demigod kids?" He was trying to imagine a gaggle of super-powered toddlers, throwing bolts of lightning and shooting jets of water at each other.

"No, there are some who don't. Artemis, for example. She's awesome. Uh, Hera, the queen, doesn't have relationships outside of her marriage to the king, either. Goddess of Marriage and all that."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I never really cared much for myths. School was always kind of a pain in the ass for me," Percy admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious at his lacking knowledge. "And my high school only offers one semester of Greek mythology as an elective."

Grover waved the apology away with an understanding smile. "So, which is it? Do you live with your mom or dad?"

Percy plucked a rose from the bush. "Neither. Guess that kinda pokes a hole in your method, huh?"

‹‹White Cut››

"Okay, say I believed you, and my life is in serious danger out here. You said something about a place for kids like me. For half-bloods and the likes," Percy put his wallet away and took a sip of his coffee.

It was almost dark out. But, because it was December, Percy's watch read 4:00 p.m. Not a late hour, despite the dimming sunlight.

Grover had already managed to finish his own coffee and started eating the disposable paper cup it came in. He spoke in between his munching. "Camp Half-Blood. Great place. Lots of people around your age… um…"

"Sixteen."

"Yeah… I'm sure you'd get along with people there. Besides, if Demeter or Mr. D—that's what we call Dionysus at camp—is your godly parent, you'll have some half-siblings to hang with."

Percy and Grover stopped at the intersection of Madison Avenue and East 34th Street. They both looked to the left, heads slowly inclining upward. Only one block over, the Empire State Building loomed far above them. Office lights ran along the side they stared at, forming patches of orange-yellow amid the dark windows.

"So they live up there?" Percy asked. "Six-hundredth floor or whatever?"

"Yeah."

"They do know there isn't a six-hundredth floor, right?"

"I assume that's the point."

"Can we visit them?"

"Not a chance."

"Cool."

"Yup."

Percy yawned. "Alright. It doesn't make sense for me not to believe you. I mean, I've seen some stuff, but that was all after learning about my powers. It was just another thing to make me even more different from everybody else."

"So you'll go?" Grover seemed excited by the prospect.

"Maybe. Text me the address," Percy took out a metal business card holder. He flicked it open and took a card, handing it to Grover.

"Wait… you have a cell phone?"

Percy lifted one shoulder. "Yeah. Gotta have it for… work related things."

"Work? Like, a part-time?"

"...Sure."

Grover shook his head. "Demigods shouldn't talk over the phone. It basically amplifies your voice and paints a huge target on you for monsters. You really haven't been attacked?"

Percy took a long drink and finished his coffee. "Uh… no?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you're lying to me."

"Not by monsters."

They watched each other for a few seconds before Grover took a pencil from his loose-fitting jeans and wrote on the back of the business card. "This is really nice coloring."

Smiling with pride, Percy cleared his throat softly. "Right? That's bone. And the font is a little something called Sicilian Contrivance."

Grover handed the card back, and Percy checked to see what was written. A full address stood out against the white backdrop, in the scratchiest script he'd ever seen put to paper.

"Farm Ro—"

"Shhh! Don't say it out loud. Never know who might be listening," Grover placed a hand on Percy's mouth. "Names have power. Even just an address. Especially an address like that. We need to keep the camp safe. Just… when you get there, look for a big pine tree. It's hard to miss."

"Oh, gotcha, sorry."

Grover nodded. "It would be best for you to head there soon. A half-blood's scent grows stronger once they know the truth."

"I smell that bad?" Percy sniffed himself discretely. Nothing particularly vulgar caught his attention.

"Demigods have scents. Monsters can smell a powerful demigod from a good distance. Satyrs can do the same. Sometimes, its a race to see who gets to the kid first." Grover paused and took a deep whiff. He frowned and scratched at his thin goatee. "You… huh… weird."

"What's that?"

"You don't smell how I expected you to. I've been around my fair share of half-bloods, so you'd think…"

"So I don't need a shower?"

Grover was still perturbed but chuckled at the question. "Not really. Maybe monsters are thrown off by how you smell too. That might be why they haven't attacked you."

Percy sighed. "Alright, I'll bite. What's my scent like? New car? Baby powder? Asbestos?"

"No, no, and what does that even smell like?"

"It smells like potential compensation if you or a loved one suffer from mesothelioma because of asbestos exposure."

At Grover's blank gaze, Percy dismissed the joke with a wave of his hand. "What do I smell like, then?"

"Tuberose."

"I smell like a fleshy flower, commonly used in perfume fragrances, which exudes a moderate menthol top note when blooming, while also producing an off-note of rotting meat when very ripe?" Percy held a few fingers over his mouth as he thought. "I love it. My superhero name can be Polianthes Tuberosa."

"Musk Man?" Grover suggested.

"Deep Base Note," Percy corrected.

They looked at each other and laughed. With them having been standing at the intersection for some time, Grover took the next walk signal, leaving Percy to follow shortly after him. The sun had managed to set even further behind the canopy of tall buildings that made up Manhattan's skyline.

Grover looked around. "Well, I should get going."

"Right," Percy nodded. "You said you were on a mission? Finding more demigods?"

"Yeah. Up in Maine. I don't know if I'll catch anyone, but here's hoping," Grover crossed his fingers. "And what about you? You should head to camp tonight. Like I said, the sooner, the better."

Percy shook his head ruefully. "No can do. I've got an 8:30 reservation at Le Bernardin tonight. Great sea urchin ceviche."

"Oh?" There was a moment's pause. Then came Grover's jaw dropping. "Le Bernardin? How did you get a reservation there? Better question, how can you afford to eat at a place like that?"

"My… uh… job pays really well." Percy shuffled away slowly. "So, I guess I'll see you later then. Good luck in Maine."

Grover smiled wryly. "Same to you. Stay safe out there. And don't blow all your money on a single dinner!"

‹‹White Cut››

The next morning came and brought with it more winter weather. His arrangements made, valuables packed, and stomach full of food, Percy stepped out of the car. It was nearing noon, and he'd spent close to three hours sitting with a random person, mostly bored, on the trip from Manhattan to what basically amounted to Montauk. While ride-sharing companies in New York were still pretty new, they were slowly gaining popularity.

Percy pulled his wallet out and thumbed through the cash he had. Feeling bad having made the guy drive through such awful traffic, he added a few bills extra to the total.

"Keep the change."

The driver's eyes went wide. "T-that's too much—"

But Percy, already familiar with the reaction, hefted his duffel back and began trotting up the closest hill. "Keep it!"

He didn't bother looking back again. There were noises: a door shutting, an engine starting, and the crunching of gravel, then everything was quiet. Not even birds wanted to sing, and though he knew this place was near the ocean, he couldn't hear or smell it.

Percy squatted and ran his hand over the grass. It wasn't a sunny day, not with the cloud coverage, but he would rather be safe. Feeding his intention into the earth, he pulled his hand away. A small bush sprouted, following after his fingers, hoping to reach his touch again. On the shrub quickly blossomed a single, white flower.

Datura stramonium. It was pretty toxic. But, it had the benefit of being vespertine and hallucinogenic, which he needed for the night.

Percy plucked the flower and tucked it behind his ear.

At the same time, he grew another plant, Erythroxylum coca, waiting patiently as it shot up. The coca plant, typically cultivated for the production of cocaine, was a good stimulant and didn't cause dependency. Percy grabbed as many leaves as he could. Popping a few into his mouth, he put the rest in his jacket's pocket, for easy access through the day.

Satisfied, he tapped each plant, killing them.

With several more hours until nightfall, he had plenty of time to digest the coca before eating the poisonous Datura stramonium.

Taking a step forward, Percy snapped his fingers when he remembered what he forgot. He opened his phone and began to type out a quick text message for his girlfriend, who he hadn't seen or spoken with since the Thursday prior.

Considering it was already Monday, that meant three full days had passed since their last interaction. But such wasn't odd for them. They were comfortable enough going several days without speaking. In fact, Percy almost forgot why he'd started dating this one in the first place. Well, she'd been the one to ask him out, and while she wasn't the girl he'd had his sights on, he didn't want to be rude. After the first few dates, he warmed up to her enough, so they'd been together for a few months.

Making sure he got his point across as clearly as he could took several edits to his wording. After a final check, he nodded and pressed send, effectively becoming a single man again. With his phone being one of those prepaid, flip types, he had no qualms about snapping it into two pieces. If what Grover told him was true, then she had no place getting involved in the world beyond the Mist. He felt guilty breaking up with her over text, but it really was for her own good.

Besides, dating a demigod sounded like it would be easier.

He took the battery and SIM card out, and, crushing the latter, chucked the former to the side. Percy dropped the phone's remains, continuing to stroll toward the huge pine tree which rested at the very top of the hill.

‹‹White Cut››

The pine was even bigger when one stood directly in front of it, some ten feet away. At the trunk's base, some sort of reptilian creature was beginning to stir. Near the lowest jutting branches, a shimmering shroud of fur hung, glittering like how Percy imagined a pile of gold would.

"Golden Fleece?" he asked to himself. "Not something I see every day, but, demigods, I guess."

By way of Percy's speaking, the creature had woken. It wasn't very large. Nor did it intimidate Percy very much, considering it was about the size of an alligator. Two small puffs of smoke left its nostrils, and it did its best to hiss menacingly.

"Well hey there little buddy," Percy didn't deign to get closer, though that didn't stop him from trying to be friendly. "Are you on a mission?"

He took a single step. The alligator snapped its jaws, angry at his intrusion. Both of its slitted eyes were locked, drinking in every detail, be it appearance or action. The alligator was ready to attack.

Grover hadn't said anything about a guardian, so Percy was at a serious loss on how to go forward. He didn't want to subdue the 'gator, since he doubted the demigods would be happy with that.

Movement caught Percy's eye. He looked over and blinked. About a dozen blue eyes blinked back at him. The new thing he was looking at was more human-like. In fact, it was almost human. But "almost" was still not quite "completely," and the discrepancy between this new thing and ordinary people couldn't be more clear. Some said the eyes were a gateway into the soul. What Percy now stared at must have been very easy to read, then, because almost all of its unclothed body was covered in eyes. On its head, neck, hands, and exposed arms, the extra organs were honed on him.

Other than that, the creature might have passed for a regular surfer dude. It had stalk-like blond hair, pulled back into a very short ponytail, and wore blue jeans and a striped sleeveless shirt.

Percy waited for something to happen. Nothing did. Instead, the alligator, Eye-Guy, and Percy were in the perfect formation to start a Mexican stand-off.

"Bro," Percy looked at Eye-Guy and pointed at the alligator. "Your dog is snorting fire."

‹‹White Cut››

As it would turn out, the alligator was actually a baby dragon called Peleus. In similar veins of knowledge, the Eye-Guy's real name was Argus, and he'd been created by Hera some few thousand years back to guard a cow.

The one who'd come and given Percy this information, Chiron, glanced down at him. "Any questions, young man?"

"Yeah. Has Argus ever lost at hide-and-seek?"

"Not in recent memory," Chiron said. Being a centaur, he was maybe a foot taller than Percy.

With combed brown hair, intense brown eyes, a graying beard, and the lower body of a horse, Chiron was both underwhelming and quite spectacular to inspect. Percy would have probably expected something else—maybe a wild hairstyle or a longer beard—while also picturing the legendary trainer with some similar traits. Really, it must have been the veritably potent gaze. Those eyes were ancient.

They stopped walking when they reached a large farmhouse, painted blue and four stories tall. A porch wrapped around the house's perimeter. Percy could see a vast expanse of water a mile down the valley he was in. Between the beach and the farmhouse were several other attractions: a pavilion with no roof, just free-standing columns; an amphitheater with plenty of seating; a sizable sandpit, where a volleyball net stood; a small lake with canoes moored near its shores, and by that was a massive climbing wall.

More to the left of the lake was an arrangement of buildings, varied in color. Just beyond lay a stretch of the valley which was wooded, the trees making it hard to see further in. There was an archery range, where several people shot at targets, right next to a large barn where several winged horses were being groomed. A few of those horses galloped through the air, gliding with riders on their backs, performing some pretty dangerous maneuvers.

"Quite the spectacle, isn't it?" Chiron asked, puffing his chest with some pride. "Welcome, to Camp Half-Blood."

Percy had never seen anything like it. Really, the valley was incredible. If the sun had been shining, it might have appeared even more utopian. He took a deep breath. The first thing he noticed was how crisp the air was. Living in Manhattan his whole life, pollution was the norm rather than the exception. Here, though, at Camp Half-Blood, nature didn't seem to be at odds with the inhabitants.

"It's awesome," Percy said.

Chiron led him up the porch's steps. "This is the Big House. You can leave your belongings by the door until we get you situated. Ah, Mr. D, meet our newest addition."

They walked to a group of three skittish satyrs sitting with a pudgy, genuinely ominous man. Sure, the Hawaiian shirt, red nose, and curly hair made him look a bit childish, but Percy felt his heartbeat pick up when Mr. D looked over with watery, bloodshot eyes which screamed danger. Then again, Grover had already warned him that "Mr. D" was actually Dionysus. This portly, baby-faced stranger was an Olympian god, powerful enough to send Percy straight to a mental hospital.

"Yes, yes, welcome to Camp Half-Blood…" The man trailed off and set the cards he'd been holding down. He turned his body, watching Chiron and Percy as they got closer. "Now, isn't this interesting. So it came to pass. What tumult the future will hold."

Mr. D crossed his arms, then turned back to the table. "Unfortunately, I'll be involved due to my position. I'm growing to dislike you, Percy Jackson. No, actually, I've already decided. You are certainly going to be one of my least favorite brats."

Percy looked at Chiron, who could do nothing but shrug. "Uh, sorry, have we met or something? If we have, let me just say, the raw material was good, so it must have been the synthesizing process that screwed things up."

"Save me the excuses, Jefferson. You'll be staying at cabin eleven. At least, until your mother claims you. Then we may as well put you in a cemetery. Why must my time always be wasted by dead men walking? Ghastly, this punishment. I tell you, Chiron, be glad your father doesn't have the sway to put you under house arrest."

"Mr. D… my father—"

"Bah! I know, I know! Go give the brat his tour already. But make it quick. Or better yet, summon one of those other insufferable children to do it." Mr. D waved his hand. A can of Diet Coke appeared on the table with a dull thud. "Maybe that Thessaly girl, or Anniebell. These incompetents"—he motioned to the satyrs around him—"can't play a good game of pinochle to save their lives. One day, I may actually raise the stakes up to that level and see if they face the challenge."

Chiron put a hand on Percy's shoulder. "No, I think I'll be the one to walk him around. Do save your energy for a hand with me, though."

‹‹White Cut››

"And these are the cabins. We have one for each of the twelve Olympians," Chiron pointed at the structures that Percy had seen from afar. "I'm sure you can guess which cabin is associated with what god. Did Mr. Underwood tell you much of camp?"

Percy held a hand to his chin. "Not really. He seemed a bit distracted. I mean, he wasn't looking for me, but when he saw me messing with the roses, I guess he felt obligated to help."

He looked around some more and noticed a young girl kneeling by a huge stone-lined firepit. She was poking the glowing coals with a long stick, keeping the fire alive and healthy.

"Well, it certainly is odd he didn't smell you. Equally so that no monster has come for you. Usually, once a demigod reaches puberty, they begin to come into their own power. So too does their scent become stronger. Most of our new campers are guided here by satyrs around the age of eleven to thirteen. Very rarely do we see one as old as you arrive."

Percy shrugged helplessly. "Grover said I smelled like tuberose. Maybe it has something to do with my godly parent?"

"Possible. Plants, you said?"

Crouching, Percy tapped on the dirt with his finger. The grass around them doubled in quantity, and quadrupled in height, reaching up to his shins when he stood back up. He raised his hand further, making the grass stretch even taller.

"A most impressive control you have," Chiron muttered. Reaching down, he ran his fingers through the two-foot-tall blades of green. "Can you do this with all forms of plants? Can you do more?"

"I can do a lot more. Some of it… is dangerous… so I try not to. Some's uncomfortable, so I avoid that too. Other stuff is downright painful," Percy rubbed his arm sheepishly. "Most of the time, I just do this—grow and change the form of plants. But sometimes I think that's more than enough for me. Those other things I can do? It's inhuman."

Chiron chuckled, patting Percy's head lightly. "My boy, you'll find that everything here is inhuman. Your peers are all children of the gods, like you. I am half-horse. Mr. D is a god. We have satyrs, dryads, naiads, and nereids. I'm sure you can find a place for yourself here. This place can make you feel… not exactly human… but at least more normal. Accepted. I do hope you enjoy your stay."

"As for who your parent might be..." Chiron trailed off and looked back at the Big House. "We can probably assume it is not Dionysus. He may dislike demigods, but he hasn't lied about his children in the past."

"That guy actually has kids? Like… with who?" Percy couldn't picture someone willingly jumping in bed with Mr. D. "Were they sober?"

Chiron shook his head. "It would be in your best interest to be careful what you say. He is a god, after all."

Percy made a face but conceded and heaved a sigh. "Yeah… good point. So if not him, then maybe it's Demeter? Mr. D said 'mother'. I haven't really tried growing wheat and stuff, though."

"Goddess of Agriculture she may be, however, rest assured she is chlorokinetic to the penultimate degree." Chiron gestured to cabin four—indicated by the great bronze numeral "4" above the door—which had tomato vines crawling on the walls and a roof made of grass.

"Penultimate?"

"The ultimate is, of course, the Earth Mother herself."

"Terra?"

"Gaea," Chiron corrected. He cast nervous glances around, then cleared his throat. "But she hasn't been around for a long time."

"She's immortal though, right?"

"Yes, however, she and the gods aren't friendly. If she were to be active, we would know, I assure you. Besides, if you were her child, your powers would extend beyond plants. The very Earth itself would be your birthright."

Percy scratched his neck. "I can't move rocks or anything like that. Tried it, didn't work out. Plants may be my limit. Well, I'm pretty strong too, physically speaking. I was always best at P.E."

Chiron nodded and, upon seeing someone behind Percy waved his hand a few times. "Many demigods are that way."

Turning around, Percy saw a group of four walking toward where he and Chiron stood. All of them were wearing the same orange T-shirt. They were talking between one another as they approached, but it was difficult to hear by their distance, and when they got closer, their voices dropped even further.

"Hey, Chiron," the only guy in the group spoke up first. He was a pretty big dark-skinned kid, with hands the size of catchers' mitts and a rigid face.

"Hello to you all," Chiron smiled at them. He put a hand on Percy's shoulder and guided him forward. "Would you like to introduce yourselves to a new camper? Grover found him just yesterday and directed him to us."

"Beckendorf." The tall dude held out his massive hand, which Percy shook, almost balking at how vice-like the grip felt. Beckendorf's face never lifted from its scrunched scowl. "Welcome to camp."

Next to him, a gorgeous girl with blue eyes and long black hair held out her own hand. "I'm Silena Beauregard. This guy's"—she stabbed her forefinger at Beckendorf—"first name is Charles. Don't worry, he isn't as scary as he looks. He just works in those forges all day, so his face is permanently stuck like that from looking at the fire."

"R-right." Percy couldn't imagine working near a fire for more than ten seconds.

"Nice to see a new face. Name's Thalia," the next person, a girl with light freckles across her nose and short black hair, nodded approvingly. Unlike Silena's, the blue in her eyes seemed electric and alive. Her black jeans were ripped, her black leather jacket hid most of the orange shirt beneath, and her shoes were purple Vans. It looked like she shopped exclusively at Hot Topic.

The last to introduce herself had her blonde hair tied in a ponytail. "Good to meet you. I'm Annabeth," she said, taking his offered hand and giving it a quick shake. Her eyes, an odd stormy-gray, seemed to analyze Percy intently. Like Beckendorf and Silena, she wore blue jeans with her shirt.

When Percy realized he'd been stuck picking out the details of their dress, he coughed. "My name's Percy Jackson."

"You met Grover?" Annabeth asked. She seemed eager to hear what he had to say.

"Yeah. Yesterday, when I was hanging out at Mad Square Park. I was messing with the plants, and he came up to me. Explained this whole… Greek thing to me."

"Messing with plants? Do you know your godly parent?" asked Silena. "You don't look like Pollux or Castor. So maybe not Mr. D. Your eyes are like Miranda's… green like fresh leaves… so maybe Demeter?"

"No use in guessing," Thalia mumbled. She looked at Percy. "If you're lucky they'll claim you at the bonfire tonight. If not, you might have to wait for some time."

He frowned. "Some gods don't claim their kids right away?"

Thalia hooked her thumbs into her front pockets. "Some don't claim their kids at all. Cabin eleven is overflowing. The Hermes cabin takes in unclaimed and minor demigods. Too many of them. Sometimes..."

She trailed off, and Annabeth took the chance to change subjects. "Did you make this grass tall?"

"That seems to be my forte." Percy waved his hand over the grass. It sunk back to the ground. "So who's your guys' godly parent?"

"Hephaestus." Beckendorf crossed his arms over his chest.

"Aphrodite," Silena said.

Annabeth glanced at Thalia, who was glowering at nothing. There was an awkward pause in the list where everybody seemed uncomfortable. Even Beckendorf had shifted his weight a few times in the span of a few seconds.

"Well, Athena is my mother. And Thalia—"

"Zeus." The clipped nature of Thalia's response tipped Percy off that he shouldn't bring the subject up lightly. Obviously, the girl had some problems with her father.

"Uh, nice to meet you all," Percy said. He looked at Chiron, who was still gazing at Thalia with sympathy. "So, is the tour over or…?"

"Yes, I do believe these four were just heading up to have lunch before I stopped them. Why don't you tag along?"

"I can do that."

"Excellent," Chiron smiled. He looked at the group. "Annabeth, Thalia, would you mind introducing Percy to Connor and Travis so they can acquaint him with cabin eleven."

They nodded. Though the awkward energy still lingered, Annabeth tried to sound normal. "Sure thing. Let's go to the mess hall. Oh, you'll want to keep an eye on your stuff. Children of Hermes are known to have sticky fingers."

Percy shivered. "They do it that often?"

Annabeth gave him a pitying smile. "Yup."

"Can't they use, like, tissues to clean up? Or wash their hands afterward?"

Beckendorf chuckled, and Silena wrinkled her nose. Thalia stifled her laugh, causing her to choke. Annabeth looked confused. Then, understanding what Percy had been referring to, her cheeks reddened.

"That… that wasn't what I was talking about. I meant they're thieves," she quickly clarified.

Percy opened his mouth in an "O" and chuckled. "Gotcha. Yeah. My bad."

Chiron, apparently amused, took his hand off Percy's shoulder. "Ah, youth. Now, run along. You always want three square meals here at camp. Activities galore, Percy. Make sure to have fun!"

That being said, he cantered off, going back in the direction of the Big House. Percy stopped watching when Chiron finally left the area, turning back to face the group tasked to be his keeper. Behind them, the firepit was no longer being tended, the young girl probably having left sometime earlier.

"You up for some food, new guy?" Thalia asked.

"I could go for a bite. What's good here?"

"We've got BBQ, fresh bread, fruit, and basically anything you want to drink," Beckendorf supplied, counting off on his fingers. "Healthy stuff to keep us on a decent diet."

"No alcohol, though," Annabeth said.

Silena rolled her eyes. "Though I think the only one really broken up about that is Mr. D."

"Well, it all sounds delicious. A homey meal would probably do me some good after eating out so often," Percy said, his mind going back to the meals he'd eaten across Manhattan.

Thalia jerked her thumb to the mess hall. "Then let's go. What's with the flower, by the way?"

Percy took the plant out from behind his ear, holding it carefully. "Datura stramonium. Highly toxic. It's a good way to keep things all tame when night falls. Well, the plant is a night-blooming one. So maybe it actually makes sense to use it for that purpose?"

Annabeth looked at him oddly. "Okay. So you just wear that around?"

"What? No. What kind of weirdo do you think I am?" Percy chuckled, putting the flower back in place. "I eat it. Like I said, gotta keep things tame at night. It's hallucinogenic and acts as a deliriant. One of the better ways to stay relatively me when the time comes."

The others looked alarmed. Silena's jaw, which had dropped, snapped back up. "You just said it was highly toxic."

"Yeah, I'm pretty resistant to that kind of stuff. You guys should steer clear, though. I grow these especially potent, so I only have to eat one or two. Just a piece of this flower's petal would kill a normal person."

"But you're okay eating the whole thing?" Beckendorf asked warily.

"More or less. It affects me, but in a good way. Don't the other Demeter kids have to do this?"

"Not that I know of," Silena muttered. "Katie and Miranda haven't told me anything like that. I've never seen them eating poisonous plants, either."

The news made Percy frown. He'd been under the impression—since Grover told him about demigods—that there were other people like him. But no such luck, apparently. He was still the odd one out.

"Guess it's just something I've gotta deal with," he said, heaving his shoulders. "But forget all that! Let's go eat. Then you can show me to the guys with the sticky fingers."