A.N.: News, Thanks and a gift.

Alright. I'm writing this early as a gift to my fans. As I'm sure most of you know (but haven't said anything in your reviews to me about) reading the book fanfictions were threatened recently by a campaign by HEART OF AIUR. He was actually able to get several stories removed. I haven't been at ease since I learned of it. I continually checked to make sure my story hadn't been deleted. Luckily it's still here and ready to be continued. The culprit has since repealed his campaign (Which I don't see on his profile like everyone says) and we can rest easy knowing our stories are safe.

That being said. I understand why he did it but I find it amusing and disturbing that he thought he could get away with it. We are a large and vocal fanbase who will not stand for it. Even if our stories were deleted we would find somewhere else to post them. I wrote him a message with my thoughts so here's hoping we can convince him and others to never do this again. I would like to give a shout out to Choices Hp, Jlmill9 and many others who have dedicated their time and effort to providing us with great stories that inspire us to write our own. Please spread this news and make sure they return and keep posting.

I would also like to give a shout out to all the fans and writers of reading the book stories and those like them out there. I would also like to thank Kilana89, eragon0123, Marchtember-Oneteenth, Anime Princess and everyone else who has reviewed my story.

Marchtember-Oneteenth: Just for you I have a special treat (or two). Read and enjoy.

Anime Princess: Read carefully, some of your questions may be answered. I'd also like to say thank you. That is the type of review that gets me thinking and plotting what I'm going to write next.

Kilana89: To your first review, yes. To your second, thank you. Like I said before I will fix the mistake. (I will be replacing chapter 4 after I fix the mythology mistake I made about Perseus battling the Minatour.)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series.

Now, without further ado I present Chapter 5.

Chapter 5: Chaos, Camps and New arrivals

a.k.a: Chaos reigns, Disbelief is laughable and a murderer tries to stop a murder (Don't ask).

As they returned to the throne room with their godly parents (yes, I know I'm evil, get over it.) Percy and Annabeth were mulling over what they had just learned.

"And here I thought the chaos in my life was normal," Percy said telepathically.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Your life has never been normal, Seaweed Brain," she replied.

"Neither has yours apparently," he retorted.

Their conversation was cut short as they came across a very odd sight in the throne room. Most of the minor gods were gone but there was now a camera and screen obviously meant to record and broadcast the reading. Hephaestus was putting the finishing touches on it. Apollo seemed to be arguing with the book, which strangely enough was arguing back. He had obviously animated it so they wouldn't have to read. None of these things were what caught their attention however. It was the sight of two demigods arguing, a familiar blonde haired, blue eyed, scarred young man in between them that was shocking. He was trying to stop another familiar boy who looked a lot like him and a familiar red-haired, freckled faced girl from attacking each other. The ghosts of the past heroes (there was something strange and different about them) as well as the Roman and Greek demigods and others (all three groups larger than they remembered) were watching with looks ranging between amusement and scorn.

Percy and Annabeth glanced at each other before walking over to where the other demigods were standing. Their parents joined the other gods. Artemis immediately whispered something to both of them to which they nodded in relief.

"So, enjoying the show? " Percy asked the new arrivals which consisted of his friends from both camps.

"You know it Prissy," Clarisse said, grinning. "Glad you remember everything or I would have had to beat you up until you did. There's still time for that though."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Keep dreaming Clarisse."

"One Drachma says Rachael punches Octavian," Travis said.

"Fine, I say she'll punch Luke," Conner said.

"You're both wrong," Annabeth said. "She'll punch both of them."

Right as she said this Rachel attacked Octavian only for Luke to pull her off him to which she rewarded him with the same right hook she had just used on Camp Jupiter's Auger. Both Percy and Annabeth as well as several others stared in shock as it hit and Luke stumbled back, a fact that shouldn't have been possible. Percy glanced at the ghosts and suddenly it clicked.

Reluctantly the Stolls handed over the drachma to Annabeth.

"I can take care of myself Luke," Rachael exclaimed as she and a very solid Luke walked towards them.

"I know that Rachael," Luke said. "Sorry. It's just that guy…" He glared at the ground.

"Reminds you of how you used to be," Thalia finished from beside Nico who was talking to Hazel, Thanatos and Hades.

"Yeah," Luke said, looking up. His expression lightened when he noticed Percy and Annabeth. "Hey, you two. Congratulations, it was about time." They blushed. Luke noticed and chuckled. "So, we're all together here," he said. Sure enough, Percy noticed that several of the heroes that had died during the Titan War were there, all of them as solid as Luke. He grinned slightly when he saw Piper and Leo talking to Beckendorf and Silena.

"I'm guessing our friends over there had something to do with that," Percy said, nodding towards the two death gods and demigods.

Luke nodded. "Yeah, it's only temporary though. We'll go back to being ghosts after the books are done. They just thought it was easier for everyone this way as most ghosts have a hard time remembering the past."

Percy, Annabeth and Frank nodded at that.

"So, when are we going back to reading?" Annabeth asked, eager for the distraction this new development was causing.

"Not much longer," Rachael said.

"Finally!" Apollo cried out causing everyone to stare at him. He had the book in his hands and was holding it up for everyone to see.

"Yes, great job, you bested a book," Artemis said. "Now can we start?"

Apollo and Hephaestus nodded.

Zeus summoned the couches and chairs again and everyone sat down, ready to continue reading.

Chapter 5: I Play Pinochle with a Horse the book said in a voice similar to Apollo when he was mascarading as Fred.

"Percy!" Annabeth exclaimed. "Chiron is not a horse."

Percy sighed. So much for this being an easy chapter.

I had weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food.

Everybody laughed.

"Oh, Percy, we missed your sense of humor," the Stolls said together.

Percy blushed. "Hey, in my defense it was my subconscious trying to make sense of the fact that my best friend is part goat and that I was just attacked by a bull-man."

I must've woken up several times, but what I heard and saw made no sense, so I just passed out again. I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovered over me, smirking as she scraped drips off my chin with the spoon.

Now Annabeth blushed.

When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

She shook her head. "I shouldn't have asked. Of course you wouldn't know."

I managed to croak, "What?"

She looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

Luke looked guiltily down at his feet at that. Why had he been so stupid?

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I don't..."

Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled my mouth with pudding.

The next time I woke up, the girl was gone.

"Ahh, you're missing her already!" Aphrodite exclaimed.

A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me.

He had blue eyes— at least a dozen of them—on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

Hera smiled at the mention of her faithful Argus.

* * * When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings, except that they were nicer than I was used to. I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that was great, but my mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue was dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.

Most everyone winced.

On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry. My hand was so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.

"Careful," a familiar voice said.

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD. Just plain old Grover, Not the goat boy.

So maybe I'd had a nightmare. Maybe my mom was okay. We were still on vacation, and we'd stopped here at this big house for some reason. And ...

"Somebody's in denial," Leo said.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Do you blame me after what happened?" He glanced over at his mother and smiled. He hated that she would have to learn how much danger he was usually in but he was glad to finally see her again after so long.

"You saved my life," Grover said. "I... well, the least I could do ... I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

Most of the Romans as well as Piper, Leo and Jason listened anxiously.

Reverently, he placed the shoe box in my lap.

Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood. It hadn't been a nightmare.

"Sorry, Percy," Grover said.

Percy grinned at him. "It's okay G-man. Everything turned out alright."

"The Minotaur," I said.

"And thus begins your stubborn need to break every rule and listen to no one," Annabeth said.

"Urn, Percy, it isn't a good idea—"

"Since when did I care?" Percy asked Grover who chuckled.

"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" I demanded. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."

Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?"

"Everything," Percy said.

"My mom. Is she really ..."

"No," Sally said. "I'm right here."

He looked down.

I stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, was the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looked beautiful in the sunlight.

"Thanks Percy," Thalia said smugly to some people's confusion.

My mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful. "I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "I'm a failure. I'm—I'm the worst satyr in the world."

"No you aren't," Several of the Greek Demigods insisted.

He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. I mean, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole.

"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled.

Thunder rolled across the clear sky.

As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, I thought, Well, that settles it.

"My life is a crazy circus and will never be normal," Percy said.

Grover was a satyr. I was ready to bet that if I shaved his curly brown hair, I'd find tiny horns on his head. But I was too miserable to care that satyrs existed, or even minotaurs. All that meant was my mom really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light.

There was some gasps from a few people as they realized that she hadn't died.

I was alone. An orphan. I would have to live with ... Smelly Gabe? No. That would never happen. I would live on the streets first. I would pretend I was seventeen and join the army. I'd do something.

"You're not an orphan," Annabeth said. "And you'll become the most powerful demigod in the world and save Olympus,"

Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid—poor goat, satyr, whatever—looked as if he expected to be hit.

Percy muttered something and glared at Dionysus.

I said, "It wasn't your fault."

Before Grover could protest most of the Greek Demigods shouted, "It isn't."

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."

"And you did," Percy said. "It isn't your fault my uncles were blaming me for something I didn't do."

"Did my mother ask you to protect me?" "No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least... I was."

"But why ..." I suddenly felt dizzy, my vision swimming.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover said. "Here." He helped me hold my glass and put the straw to my lips.

I recoiled at the taste, because I was expecting apple juice. It wasn't that at all. It was chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. And not just any cookies—my mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting. Drinking it, my whole body felt warm and good, full of energy. My grief didn't go away, but I felt as if my mom had just brushed her hand against my cheek, given me a cookie the way she used to when I was small, and told me everything was going to be okay. Before I knew it, I'd drained the glass. I stared into it, sure I'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.

Most of the gods and demigods got content looks when they thought of Nectar and Ambrosia.

"Was it good?" Grover asked.

I nodded.

"What did it taste like?" He sounded so wistful, I felt guilty.

"Sorry," I said. "I should've let you taste."

"Yeah, and he would have burned up," Dionysus said.

His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just... wondered."

"I wasn't threatening you Grover," Percy said, rolling his eyes at his best friend.

"Chocolate-chip cookies," I said. "My mom's. Homemade."

He sighed. "And how do you feel?"

"Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred yards."

"Poor Nancy," Clarisse muttered, grinning.

"That's good," he said. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff"

Percy and Annabeth shared a knowing look. It was similar to what almost happened to them, to what could still happen.

"What do you mean?"

He took the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it were dynamite, and set it back on the table.

Percy raised his hands in the air. "You see, this is why I didn't know anything in the beginning. Nobody would answer my questions or explain anything."

"Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."

The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.

My legs felt wobbly, trying to walk that far. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, but I held on to it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I wasn't going to let it go.

"Nope," Percy said. "Some soveniers though," he added, a sly look coming over his face, "are best rejected or given away."

As we came around the opposite end of the house, I caught my breath.

We must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

The Romans and past demigods listened in awe while those who had died got wistful looks kon their faces as they remembered it.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoon-fed me popcorn-flavored pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them.

"Waiting for me?" Percy asked with a knowing grin.

"Of course," Annabeth replied smugly.

The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels— what do you call them, hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park.

Dionysus glared at Percy. "I do not!"

He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I got the feeling this guy could've out-gambled even my stepfather.

The wine god still glared at Percy but he huffed smugly at that.

"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron... ."

Percy shook his head. "Again with the lack of explanations."

He pointed at the guy whose back was to me.

First, I realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner!" I cried.

Percy smiled at his mentor who smiled back.

The Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. His eyes had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.

"Smart," Annabeth and Athena said.

"Wicked!" Connor, Travis, Leo and Nico exclaimed.

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"And that's one of his good days," Nico said to the Romans who shuddered, even Dakota.

"And I thought Frank had it bad with his father," the Kool-Aid obsessed demigod muttered.

"Uh, thanks." I scooted a little farther away from him because, if there was one thing I had learned from living with Gabe, it was how to tell when an adult has been hitting the happy juice.

Zeus's eyes darkened and he glared at his son. He better not have been.

If Mr. D was a stranger to alcohol, I was a satyr.

"Well, you're definitely not a satyr," Connor said thoughtfully, pretending to survey Percy up and down.

"But you're not exactly right either," Travis finished copying Connor.

Everybody laughed at the two sons of Hermes.

"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl. She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

"Hermes's Cabin," Nico explained to the Romans. "It's where demigods stay before their claimed since we don't have cohort like you."

Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."

She was probably my age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

Annabeth nodded. "I was."

She glanced at the minotaur horn in my hands, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a minotaur! or Wow, you're so awesome! or something like that.

Annabeth got a look at her eyes and she turned to Percy and pretended to stare at him in awe like so many of his fangirls . "You killed a minotaur! Wow, you're so awesome!" she exclaimed in a fake, high—pitched voice.

Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep."

Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.

She, along with most of the room, began to break down laughing. It took several minutes before the book could continue.

"So," I said, anxious to change the subject. "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?" "Not Mr. Brunner," the ex—Mr. Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Okay." Totally confused, I looked at the director. "And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?"

"Percy," Annabeth moaned. She should have stayed and helped him.

Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at me like I'd just belched loudly. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."

"I have a reason," Percy said. "I just don't care."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"I must say, Percy," Chiron-Brunner broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"You were definitely not a waste of time," Chiron said to Percy who blushed.

"House call?"

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to ... ah, take a leave of absence." I tried to remember the beginning of the school year. It seemed like so long ago, but I did have a fuzzy memory of there being another Latin teacher my first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared and Mr. Brunner had taken the class.

"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" I asked.

Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

Percy shook his head slightly. It hadn't been for him.

"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"At least he has the sense to be," Dionysus said.

"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyed me suspiciously.

"I'm afraid not," I said.

"I'm afraid not, sir," he said.

"Sir," I repeated. I was liking the camp director less and less.

"Agreed," Jason muttered to Piper.

"Well," he told me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules." "I'm sure the boy can learn," Chiron said.

The Romans stared at Dionysus. Octavian's eye twitched and he looked like he wanted to knife a stuffed animal.

"Please," I said, "what is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Brun—Chiron—why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

Mr. D snorted. "I asked the same question."

"I still don't know the answer," Dionysus muttered.

The camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile.

Chiron smiled at me sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let me know that no matter what my average was, I was his star student. He expected me to have the right answer.

"Good luck with that," Annabeth said.

"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?'

"She said ..." I remembered her sad eyes, looking out over the sea. "She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

Most of the room glared at the wine god.

"What?" I asked.

He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so I did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Ah, so you didn't see it," Thalia said, smirking.

"Orientation film?" I asked.

"No," Chiron decided. "Well, Percy. You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know"—he pointed to the horn in the shoe box—"that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either, lad. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods—the forces you call the Greek gods—are very much alive."

"Like we didn't know that," Octavian muttered.

I stared at the others around the table.

I waited for somebody to yell, Not! But all I got was Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal ! Trick!" He cackled as he tallied up his points. "Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully.

"Wait," I told Chiron. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God—capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"It's not really that different," Percy thought.

"Now's not the time to talk about this," Annabeth replied.

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about—"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

The gods glared at Chiron who blushed.

"Smaller?"

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus," I said. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

Said gods looked smug.

And there it was again—distant thunder on a cloudless day.

Several of the demigods rolled their eyes.

"Young man," said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."

"Won't help," Percy said, smirking.

"But they're stories," I said. "They're—myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson"—I flinched when he said my real name, which I never told anybody—"what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals—they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far.

The demigods and mortals glared at him.

And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

Chiron smirked. "To answer, Mr. D, Yes."

I wasn't liking Mr. D much, but there was something about the way he called me mortal, as if... he wasn't. It was enough to put a lump in my throat, to suggest why Grover was dutifully minding his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut. "Percy," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

"As I said before," Percy said, "No thank you."

I was about to answer, off the top of my head, that it sounded like a pretty good deal, but the tone of Chiron's voice made me hesitate.

Annabeth nodded. 'Good,' she thought.

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," I said.

"At least I can die if I fall in battle," Thalia said.

"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"

"Harsh," Percy said, "But you were right about me becoming a myth, just a lot sooner than you thought."

My heart pounded. He was trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him. I said, "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods."

"I do now!" Percy exclaimed at the looks he was receiving. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Poseidon glared at Dionysus. "You will do no such thing."

Grover said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe.'"

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

Dionysus shrunk under Zeus's glare.

My jaw dropped, but Chiron hardly looked up.

"Mr. D," he warned, "your restrictions."

"Exactly," Zeus growled.

Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

Dionysus jumped as a small jolt of electricity struck him.

More thunder.

Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.

Chiron winked at me. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"I don't even want to know," Percy said.

"A wood nymph," I repeated, still staring at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space.

Chuckles.

"Yes," Mr. D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time—well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away—the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha.' Absolutely unfair."

"For us," Percy said.

Mr. D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little kid.

Percy just grinned at Dionysus's glare. "I stand by my thought."

"And ..." I stammered, "your father is ..."

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr. D said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."

I ran through D names from Greek mythology. Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs that all seemed to work here. The way Grover cringed, as if Mr. D were his master.

"You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D."

"Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

The Love goddess and her two daughters glared at Dionysus.

"Dionysus," Aphrodite said sweetly, "You better run." And with that she chased the wine god out of the throne room while everyone watched.

"Okay," Achilles said from his spot with the past heroes. "That was odd."

"You're a god."

Most of the demigods snorted.

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

"Definitely not best example of a god for you to meet first," Nico said.

He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him, Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a strait-jacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.

"Or I'm wrong," Nico said, grinning.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly. "No. No, sir."

"Percy's doing the smart thing!" Thalia gasped.

Nico chuckled beside her, blushing when he realized how relaxed he had become around her.

The fire died a little. He turned back to his card game. "I believe I win."

Chuckles of disbelief came from the room.

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

"As always," Chiron said.

I thought Mr. D was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He got up, and Grover rose, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover groaned.

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to me. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners."

"Good advice, but useless with him," Annabeth said.

He swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.

"Will Grover be okay?" I asked Chiron.

Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus." "Mount Olympus," I said. "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"

The Greek and Roman demigods glanced at each other. This was where they would have to go and protect.

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in America?"

"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know—or as I hope you know, since you passed my course—the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps—Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on—but the same forces, the same gods."

The Romans stared at Chiron.

"And then they died."

Now the stares turned to Percy who blushed. "I was in denial," he said.

"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not—and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either—America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

"Reading a book about my chaotic life," Percy said.

It was all too much, especially the fact that I seemed to be included in Chiron's we, as if I were part of some club.

"Who are you, Chiron? Who ... who am I?"

There were looks as everyone remembered when they had once wondered the same thing.

"I still don't have the answer," Percy thought.

Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he were going to get up out of his wheelchair, but I knew that was impossible. He was paralyzed from the waist down.

"Who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it?

Everyone nodded.

But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I thought he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realized that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached. I stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.

"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."

Percy grinned. "That was fun," he said, glancing at Clarisse who paled.

"So should we begin the next chapter or wait for Dionysus and Aphrodite?" Apollo asked.

The sudden pop as Dionysus appeared, huffing; followed by a fiery haired, scary Aphrodite answered the question.

A.N.: So, this chapter was fun in the beginning. I settled the problem with Amphitrite there by sending most of the minor gods away but still letting them watch. There will still be conflict but this was a temporary solution and helped with the feeling of too many voices. This is it mostly for new arrivals until the next book. Sorry, to those who wanted to see the talk but I still have the other five books to go and I didn't want to reveal what they learned outright. Don't worry, I might write a one-shot with it or include it in the side story.

So who liked the Luke, Rachael and Octavian conflict. I know I did. The three are so alike in ways but so different in others. I also loved the whole Aphrodite, Dionysus thing though I'm worried that was OOC. I hope it's not. Who wants to be compared to Dionysus (Except Smelly Gabe)? Please tell me if it was. Anyways it was funny.

Shout out to those who can point out the new past hero I gave a cameo to in their reviews.

Marchtember-Oneteenth: I hope you enjoyed the little gift I gave you. Don't worry, there will be more to come as I said. Oh, the fun I am going to have.

Anime Princess: Did I answer some of your questions? Don't worry, the Percy & Jason talk will come. Hazel and Frank didn't really have any lines in this but like I said, they feel like intruders. Only Octavian is really vocal enough to say anything and well, who listens to him? Tell me if you want that side-story.