Author's Note:

Before you all try to kill me, please take a moment to remember that dead authors can't update.

I am very, very sorry to leave everybody hanging for so long. First Exams, then summer in the Brazilian Amazon, a summer class, regular school, and other writing projects all pushed this project to the back burner. I literally had this chapter partly written, but I just never got to it. Since there really is a big time and effort investment to writing (particularly a story like this that requires a good deal of research to make sure I get the details of the 1940s and Riordan's deity-filled universe right), it is difficult to write when I'm distracted by other projects.

But I'm back! :D And hopefully the fact that this is the longest chapter yet (previous record was in the 4,000 word zone, this is around 6,800!) will be a good way to apologize. And on EvilPlotBunniesRuleMyMind's suggestion, cookies for everyone! I'm sure I won't be anywhere near 3 updates a week, but I'll try to get at least one per week. ;)

And on that note, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and those who kept begging me for more chapters. Without you guys, I probably would have set this project aside for good. But every so often I'd get an e-mail with your reviews in it, reminding me that I really do want to finish this story for you guys. It really amazes me to see how much you guys like this story, and your reviews really do give me a big warm-fuzzy feeling. :)

Also, during my extended absence, Mark of Athena came along and said that Leo is not Sammy's reincarnation. But honestly, I'm skeptical, and if it is true, disappointed. As stated in my first note, the reincarnation concept is too intriguing not to explore, and this situation is the perfect place to do it. The only reason I can see for making Sammy and Leo nothing but relatives is to make sure Hazel ends up with Frank, which seems like a pretty lame reason to waste this perfect chance for a reincarnation plot. I'm utterly sick of love triangles, and I really do not like the way the Leo-Hazel-Frank relationship is shaping up. Most of their interactions in MoA seem to be Hazel either being unnerved by Leo or ticked off at him. If Riorden wants Hazel and Frank together, that's fine, but the last thing I want to see is the three of them (especially Leo) dragged down by some silly love triangle. That plot has been done to death, and I find that the longer they go on, the less sympathetic and fun any of the characters involved become.

But however that plays out, more likely or not, this story no longer fits in canon, but I'm just going to continue with my original plan anyway. About the only canon I will be breaking is ignoring the Sammy Flashback Scene from MoA anyway, except in Epilogue 1 (there are two epilogues, you'll see why when we get there).

Oh, and no one guessed entirely correctly who Sammy and Albert's mysterious rescuer is (though after all this time, you probably won't find the answer particularly exciting), but Hershey's girl was probably the closest. There's a reason Sammy could tell that this person holding him wasn't very much like his usual picture of Poseidon before he even looked. ;)

And to end the longest Author's Note ever, in case my little rant above didn't tip you off, I'm not Rick Riorden, I'm just playing with his toys.

.

.

.

Chapter 9: The Only Safe Place Isn't So Safe

February 2, 1942

"You... you're not Poseidon."

The woman laughed. She was incredibly beautiful, with bright blue eyes and long black hair. An aura of light surrounded her.

Sammy shifted in her arms so he could face her properly. He accidentally kicked Al's leg, but the boy didn't seem to notice. They were both soaking wet in early February, but somehow they didn't feel cold.

"And how can you be certain that I am not Poseidon?" The woman teased. "The gods have taken many stranger forms than this."

Sammy shrugged. "Are you Poseidon?"

"No. I am a Nereid. A sea nymph, in the service of Lord Poseidon. He appreciates your tribute."

"Huh?" Al grunted.

"I tossed him gems. Three I think."

"Quite lovely gems as well. I'm sure his wife Amphitrite will adore them. Now where is that dawdling sister of mine?"

A second nymph emerged from the water.

"I was dawdling? You grabbed them both, so I thought it would be useful for me to retrieve their weapons." She held up the short sword and bronze pin. "Now hand me one of them."

"I have them. You can carry the little sword."

"Is this because I ate that last fried oyster you were saving? I already told you I was sorry."

"I have them," the first Nereid insisted, squeezing Sammy and Albert tighter.

The second Nereid didn't seem to like that. She grabbed Sammy under the arms and began trying to tug him loose.

"Ow!"

"Sister, you're going to break him."

"Lord Poseidon said we should each retrieve one. You know I'm going for a promotion! I am going to carry one of them, and you won't be able to say I didn't do my job."

She gave another sharp yank and the first Nereid pulled back. This was turning into a tug-of-war, and Sammy was not pleased.

"Ow. Ow! Stop that! Yowch! Honestly, STOP! In the past ten minutes I've almost been mauled, crushed, and drowned! I don't need you two pulling me apart! I've already had a old mattress salesman try to do that, and it was not fun!"

The first Nereid loosened her grip, and Sammy flew into the arms of the second. She quickly flipped him around so she was carrying him bridal style.

"See, was that so hard?" She demanded, then stuck out her blue tongue at her sister.

Sammy exchanged a glance with Al, who had his hands over his mouth, holding in laughter. Sammy rolled his eyes. Craziness obviously ran in the Mythological blood.

The first Nereid huffed and snapped her fingers. A pair of horses rose from the water, much to Sammy's confusion... until he saw they had fishy tails.

Just another average mythological creature.

The Nereids leapt on the horsefish and they were off. They bounded over the waves like a skipping stone, at least, one that had been shot out of a canon. Sea spray smacked him in the face. They were like a firework rocket, going faster than anything but an airplane had any right to go.

"Wahoo!" Sammy crowed, any lingering fear from his near-death experience forgotten. This was fantastic! Oh, Hazel would be so jealous when he told her about this.

"What's the horsefish's name?" He asked the Neriad.

"It is called a Hippocampus. And his name is Ptolemy."

"What about a hippo?"

"No, a Hippocamp- stop that!"

Sammy had grabbed hold of the Tomaly's reins and was leading them into a series of zigzagging turns. This horse was fast. Not brain melting fast like Hazel's cranky bay, but fast enough to leave Manhattan far behind them in a matter of minutes.

The hippo-horse reared and leapt over one of the waves, crashing down on the other side and splashing Sammy and the Nereid.

He had apparently gone too far, because the Nereid yanked the reins from his hands and threw him over her shoulder so he was facing the horse-hippo's scaly tail.

Albert laughed and Sammy grinned and pretended he was holding a fishing pole over the ocean they were racing across. He pretended to reel in a fish and throw it at Albert's head. The boy had really acclimated to Sammy over this past month, so without stopping to question the logic of their game, he caught the imaginary fish and threw it back. Sammy returned fire.

"What on earth are you two doing?"

"Nothing!"

Albert gave Sammy a 'I blame you' kind of glare, and Sammy tipped his imaginary hat.

Sammy was surprised to realize just how far the Nereids were taking them. They rounded a spur of land, a peninsula or island or something, and entered an enormous bay.

"Welcome to Long Island Sound," Albert's Nereid declared.

"Where are you taking us?"

"Why, Camp Half-Blood of course."

Half a second later the Nereids almost dropped both boys back in the water because they were cheering at the tops of their lungs.

Finally, they were going to reach Camp Half-Blood, their safe haven. The Promised Land where they would be safe from monsters, and Sammy could recruit a patrol of demigods to rescue Hazel.

They had done it. They had traveled cross-country, battled monsters, almost been killed on a daily basis, but they had finally made it.

Sammy glanced down at the leather bag still clenched in his fist. He glanced inside at the last of his treasures. A dollar bill, a gold nugget, and a blood-red ruby.

They'd spent one gem on the chimera, one on the lion, one as a bribe to Apollo, and three as a bribe to Poseidon. Hazel's curse had saved his and Albert's lives at least four times, probably dozens more than that considering how many times the lion had nearly killed them and failed. He'd have to thank her for that when he saw her next. Maybe it would help ease some of the guilt she felt for the times her gems had brought other people harm.

They reached a beach and the Nereids set him and Albert on their feet. In a blast of salty air they finished drying the boys' clothes.

"Thank you."

The Nereids smiled and straightened their Coast Guard uniforms.

"It is our solemn duty," the first Nereid informed them. "We are at the service of all who have the favor of Poseidon and- Panopea, that is my necklace! How many times have I told you not to borrow my jewelry without my permission."

"Your necklace? You loaned this from Thetis centuries ago. Besides, you never wear it."

"That isn't true, I was looking for it just yesterday-"

Sammy cleared his throat, and the Nereids turned back to him.

"You've set off the alert system by now, someone will be along to pick you two up shortly." She turned back to her sister. "You have no respect for personal property!"

Still bickering, the Nereids sank beneath the waves and disappeared.

Sammy and Albert exchanged a glance. Albert just shrugged. They'd gotten pretty used to strange stuff.

Which didn't prepare Sammy for what happened next.

He heard a thumping on the sand, like a galloping horse.

Assuming this was whoever had come to 'pick them up,' Sammy turned around with his best friendly smile.

The bronze dragon charging toward them was not smiling.

Sammy yelped and unpinned his hammer. The thing was about the size of a small horse, but its teeth were razor sharp, and flames were flickering from its nostrils.

The moment the beast was within range, Sammy dodged to the side and struck out with the hammer.

The bronze beast's head separated from the neck and sailed into the surf's edge with a wet thwap.

"Nooo! That was the last prototype!"

Sammy whipped around again to see a patrol of kids marching toward him wearing a strange combination of sportswear and ancient Greek armor. One muscular boy near the front looked particularly angry.

Sammy scooped the dented dragon's head out of the water. It was heavier than it looked, and one glass eye had completely shattered.

"I'm sorry. Can you stick it back on or something?"

The boy groaned. "Oh yeah, just reattached an automaton's head! That should be easy as putting on your pants in the morning."

A girl put her hand on the boy's shoulder to silence him. She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, with long blond hair in braids and sharp grey eyes like Al's. Even though she was the only female in the group, she seemed to be the one in charge.

"Henry, calm down. Your automaton had a habit of trying to kill innocent bystanders anyway. Maybe you can fix that when you build a new one."

Henry rolled his eyes like he considered occasional murderous bouts a mild problem. "But who knows when we'll be able to spare the Celestial Bronze with everything going to the war effort. We'll have to put the blueprints in the filing cabinets, and it could be decades before someone tracks it down again."

"When you do rebuild it, maybe you should put in some sort of emergency release so that the head can pop on and off easier," Albert suggested, poking at the mess of wires spewing from the crushed dragon head.

"And you should do something different with the teeth," Sammy added. "See, these are too thin, a bunch of them are bent. If it was trying to grab on to something too hard the teeth would be destroyed. Maybe you can make them screws, that way they could drive into wood and stuff too."

Henry grunted and turned his attention to the headless body.

The blond girl stepped foreword. "Please forgive Henry's rudeness. Children of Hephaestus often lack the social graces."

"Hey!"

"But I would like to welcome you both to Camp Half-Blood." She extended her hand which Sammy and Al shook in turn. "My name is Abigail."

"Hi. I'm Albert Quincy. And this is Sammy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you a daughter of Athena?" Sammy asked. "You and Albert look a lot alike."

Abigail nodded. "I certainly am. Which makes me your big sister, Albert, once you're claimed."

"Claimed?"

"Many demigods don't know who their godly parents are. You cannot be officially be assigned to your cabin until your mother sends a sign to claim you as her son." She hesitated, then added. "It could take a while. The gods aren't very attentive at the best of times, and with the war on... but Athena is better than most. Hopefully you'll be claimed soon. And what about you, Sammy? Is your godly parent your mother or father?"

"Neither. I'm just a normal kid."

The demigods stared at him as if he'd just announced that he had polio, and they were trying to figure out why he wasn't locked in an iron lung.

"A mortal? Why are you here?"

Before Sammy could speak, Al stepped in front of him.

"He's here because he's my best friend, and he's saved my life, and he's helped me get here from all the way down in New Orleans, and he needs you lot to help save his demigod sweetheart, and he's my best friend, and he's a hero."

Sammy felt his face grow warm at the complement, and Abigail's expression softened.

"I can't remember the last time we had a mortal escort a demigod to Camp. You must be either very brave or very foolish. Either way, thank you. I'm always happy to find a new brother or sister." She smiled warmly at Al, then turned back to her company. "We'll let the mortal come. He's aided one of your own. It's the least we can do. You boys finish the patrol, and I'll give these two the tour."

The others shrugged and began walking down the beach.

"Are you coming Henry?"

"I have an automaton to clean up, thanks to our new friend," the boy snapped. He turned to Sammy and growled, "Are you going to give me back that head?"

Sammy raised the head and moved the jaw so it looked like the dragon was talking. "Aw Henry, Sammy is so much fun! He's my new best friend. Can I stay with him?"

The boy stood up, and Sammy noticed just how tough and muscular he looked, like he spent the day throwing around lead weights.

"Give me the head."

"It's all yours!" Sammy declared, passing it over. He gave Henry a big smile, but the boy only glared.

Sammy decided it would be best to walk to the opposite side of the blond girl with the sword as quickly as possible.

"So is this Fester guy the god of death glares?" Sammy whispered, gesturing to Henry.

Abigail chuckled, herding Sammy and Al toward a grassy field.

"Not exactly. Hephaestus is the god of blacksmiths, so his children tend to be pretty big, and not always friendly. They get very attached to their toys."

Sammy frowned. "I'm sorry I broke it. Do you think he'll be able to build a new one?"

"I don't know. That was the last of the bronze dragon patrol, and they were all quite unreliable. Honestly, I sort of hope they put that project away until they have time to make one that actually works the way it ought to. We're passing the vineyards. We usually grow excellent grapes here, give or take a prohibition streak or two, but with the war on we're going to be moving to more essential crops. You can see they're taking down the last of the trellises over there."

The trellises were not what had caught Sammy's attention.

"Does that boy have goat legs? Is he a devil or something?"

"You can see through the Mist?"

"Yeah, I got a magic potion from Apollo a while back, but what's the story behind the goat boys?"

"They're called satyrs, they often serve the god Pan or Dionysus. They help around Camp and find half-bloods across the country. Everyone's being pulled thin with the war, so I assume that's why no one found you. And don't worry, they aren't devils."

"Good to know."

"So what is your story, Albert Quincy? Have you displayed any Athenian talents?"

"A few, and we have high hopes for his weaving skills," Sammy teased.

Al gave him a smack on the arm before explaining his chemist's skills to Abigail. Apparently the girl was actually extremely knowledgeable about chemistry, and their discussion might as well have been in Ancient Greek for all Sammy could understand, though considering the current company, he supposed wasn't all that unlikely a possibility.

He glanced around the fields, noticing just how pleasantly warm it was here, as though they had left winter behind in New York City. Out in the fields, a woman in dull green robes was wandering about, occasionally giving a lethargic order to the satyrs, who instantly obeyed. She kept glaring impatiently at the ground as though she had lost something down there and she wanted it back.

"That is Lady D," Abigail whispered. "She's helping keep an eye on camp, but she's always in a bit of a slump from fall till spring, so try to stay on her good side, or she'll turn you into a bowl of Wheeties."

Sammy raised his eyebrows.

"Good to know. So is this La..."

His voice trailed off as an enormous shadow passed over them, too large for a bird, too small for an airplane.

Sammy turned his gaze to the sky and saw one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

A flying horse, soaring on the unseasonably warm breeze.

That was when Sammy started to laugh. Suddenly it was beautifully, perfectly real. He was a part of this mythology now, he'd found a place where he and Hazel could be safe and happy. If there were horses here of any kind, someone had to take care of them. Sammy could take on the job of stablehand, stay here until he could join the war.

He broke into a run and raced after the winged horse, ignoring Al's startled cry. He was too busy studying the gargantuan feathers of its wings, the sleek pelt glowing with good health, the way its legs cycled as though it were galloping in midair. Oh just wait until Hazel saw this. She'd burst, just burst with joy.

This had to be where they belonged.

He continued to chase the flying horse, stumbling over the grassy field, past a theater of some kind, inset into the ground. He noticed the boy on the horse's back seemed to be holding a huge orb of water magically suspended above his head.

Wondering at all the strange things, Sammy paid no attention to the buildings around him until the horse suddenly swooped low toward a small, brilliant gold building.

A few kids out front looked up and shouted an alarm, but they were too late to get out of the way as the horse's rider sent his water flying.

It crashed down on the boys, soaking them through. Sammy laughed as they cursed and shouted, pulling bows and arrows seemingly out of thin air to shoot at the boy on horseback. But the rider just laughed and spurred his mount, which swooped away so fast he disappeared into the clouds before Sammy could even try to follow.

With the distraction of the winged horse gone, Sammy suddenly realized where he was.

Slowly, he turned in a circle, his mouth falling as he took in everything that was around him.

He was standing in a clearing at the center of a horseshoe of small buildings. Each was one story, and not all that impressive in size, but they were all decorated so they looked amazing. Each was different. A gold one that was blinding in the sunlight, a bright red one with a boar head mounted over the door, a pair of Roman temples with gold doors, a cute country home with wheat growing on the roof, a chic little place with wrought iron accents full of little hearts that reminded Sammy of the nicest places in the French Quarter, a building covered with grapevines where one boy was sprawled half outside the window, laughing at passerbys and making a noise like a donkey.

It was strange and wild and it made Sammy feel right at home.

An odd synchronized clicking noise drew Sammy's attention, and he turned to see a flock of five girls walking toward him, the black plastic heels of their identical shoes snapping against the cobblestones. They were all dressed like they'd walked out of a movie, with sleeves puffed at the shoulder, short white gloves, and nylons without any sign of snags.

Sammy would generally have described them as quite pretty, maybe even beautiful, but something about the way they were walking in stride with each other and looking at him as though they were sizing up a potential new accessory unnerved him a bit.

But figuring it would be best to make a good impression, Sammy bowed at the waist, one arm behind his back, in a formal sort of gesture that he hoped would look amusing considering his torn, soot-stained, and claw marked clothes.

"Hello, ladies."

The girls stopped, but neither returned his smile nor laughed. They just studied him.

Finally one said, "Well, as long as he isn't a Demeter boy, we could set him up with Loretta."

The other girls nodded.

"Huh?" Sammy grunted, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

"He looks sort-of Hermes-ish to me, so I bet that would work," another murmured gravely.

Sammy blinked, trying to figure out what they were getting on about.

"Hey, Rose Patrol, go easy on the new boy."

Sammy turned gratefully to see Abigail and Albert had finally caught up with him.

The flock of girls giggled.

"Just checking out the new boy. He's not much in the muscle department, but I'm sure we'll find something that will work."

"Work for what?" Sammy demanded, getting more than a little fed up with this.

Abigail laughed. "These are daughters of Aphrodite, goddess of love. They're trying to figure out who they want to set you up with, you know, romantically."

Sammy lurched back a step, instinctively clutching at his leather bag of luck, whether for the connection to Hazel or the protection of his cursed jewels, he didn't quite know.

Al had no such uncertainty. "Sammy's already got a sweetheart!" he blurted. "He came with me all the way from New Orleans even though he's a mortal so he could rescue her!"

The affect on the Aphrodite girls was immediate and alarming. They all raised their hands to their hearts and began cooing stuff like "Aww, that's so romantic," and "Ohh isn't he sweet." They began circling him poking at his clothes and muttering about getting him something new, a couple began trying to brush his hair, and one tried to grab his leather bag.

For the thirty-sixth time since they had met, Sammy made a mental note to strangle Al at the next available opportunity.

"What did I just say about going easy on the new boys? Shoo, shoo!" Abigail ordered, waving the other girls away as though they were pigeons.

The oldest of the Rose Patrol gave her a withering look, but the distraction was enough for Sammy to escape their clutches just in time to hear a booming voice announce:

"Fire in the hole!"

Sammy whipped around to face the other side of the horseshoe in time to see a blinding flash of light. The accompanying BOOM was so violent it knocked Sammy clean off his feet, which was just as well because it meant his face was down and protected when the pebbles began raining down.

As the dust settled, Sammy scrambled to his feet, knowing from experience that an explosion of that sort would have a dramatic affect on Al.

Sure enough, before Sammy was completely balanced, Al had grabbed his hand and begun dragging him toward the source of the explosion, a wild light in his grey eyes.

There was an enormous smoking crater in front of one of the little houses, so Sammy wondered if this was a prank like the water bomb, but all the kids standing around seemed quite calm, if a little singed.

"Well," one girl announced, pushing her thick goggles up onto her forehead, "I'd say we went a little overboard with that one."

"Yep, we'll have to recalculate the force load or we'll have massive collateral damage when we move up to full scale," one of the boys replied. He was utterly massive, with arms thick as Sammy's head. It looked like he might snap the pen he was holding at any second.

By this point Abigail had arrived, looking less than thrilled and brushing debris out of her hair.

"Didn't Chiron tell you to take your bomb testing back away from the cabins? You could hurt somebody here."

"Well, it wasn't supposed to be that big!" A short boy chirped, holding up finger and thumb in a pinching motion. "It was only supposed to be a teenie-bittie-little-tiny explosion."

Abigail raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, a tall boy in an army uniform marched over with smug little smirk that instantly made Sammy wary.

"I say the bigger the better if were sending them over to those Nazi dogs. Let'um take a little collateral damage."

Sammy would have felt less threatened by this statement if it had come from someone who wasn't wearing a sword, a dagger, and a gun on his belt. He pulled Albert a little closer to himself out of habit.

Abigail glared at the boy. "There are innocent civilians in Germany, as well as our own forces and spies. We have to be careful and make sure we can control our weapons."

The boy wrinkled his nose. "You know, the one thing I hate about Camp? All these girls running around playing soldier."

Abigail's eyes were suddenly hard and cold as steel. "I'm not playing games, Tom. My brother is over there fighting. He could be killed any day. I'm not messing around with the weapons we send to him."

Tom grunted and turned to Sammy and Albert. He looked over them like a man inspecting pigs for slaughter. And he wasn't too impressed with the pigs.

"Is it just me, or are the the new demigods getting shrimpier and shrimpier. When was the last time we had a nice muscled guy, a Zeus or Poseidon boy?"

"Ten months ago," Abigail muttered, seemingly more out of habit of providing an answer than any actual desire to help. "But that's beside the point." She turned to glare at the kids who'd made the bomb. "No more testing blasts by the cabins." Then she whipped back around to Sammy and Albert. "You two come with me, Chiron will want to meet you."

The sound of a horn blew across the valley, and everyone jumped to attention.

"Looks like he'll have to meet them down at the campfire, it's time to toast weiners!" One of the miniature bombardiers crowed and he bolted back toward the the shore.

"I suppose so," Abigial murmured. She took a deep breath, arranged her hair, and gave the boys a small smile. "Come along. I think you two have a good campfire story to tell."

As with everything at Camp Half-Blood, the campfire was strange. The fire itself was clearly magical, since it kept changing colors, a lot of the kids in the front row were toasting frankenfurters on the tips of their swords, oh, and the guy who seemed to be in charge had the backside of a horse.

Sammy wondered if he'd recognize what most people considered normal anymore. But if this was his new normal, he sure wasn't complaining.

All around them, demigods were organizing themselves into groups surrounding silk banners. Sammy spotted the Rose Patrol girls sitting around a pink banner with a dove on the front, another dozen or so movie-star looking kids lounging around with them. Under a banner bearing a hammer surprisingly similar to the one Apollo had given him, the scary guy who'd taken care of the bronze dragon sat with a tough, motley crowd, including the bomb testing crew.

However, it was the two groups closest to the front that excited Sammy the most. On one side, beneath a golden banner bedecked with a lightning bolt that shimmered in the firelight were a collection of boys and girls who looked liked they'd stepped right out of a mythology book. The boys in particular were muscled and handsome, and they wore an air of confidence that made Sammy certain that they would be just the people to help him rescue Hazel. Opposite them, the group under the blue trident banner were a similarly powerful-looking bunch, though they seemed a little more... calm, collected maybe, than their blond peers.

Right in front, between those two groups, stood the centaur, and a tiny black haired girl who looked like she'd fallen out of the roaring twenties. Her dress looked like it had been splattered with dye, and she wore a strange collection of beaded necklaces around her neck that made Sammy wonder whether she was from New Orleans too. She wasn't wearing a dunce cap, but Sammy figured she must be in some sort of trouble if she was on a stool next to the leader horse-guy.

Sammy wasn't quite sure what to do, but Abigail gave his sleeve a tug so he and Al followed her around the fire until they were right in front of the centaur.

"Chiron, these two washed up on First Beach not long ago. This is Albert Quincy... I don't think I caught your last name."

"Albert Quincy Grant," Al specified, "Son of Athena."

Chiron raised an eyebrow at Abigail.

"Has he truly been claimed this quickly?"

"No, not yet sir, but apparently his father told him his full heritage. Rather unorthodox, but, well, I'm inclined to believe it."

"How do I get claimed?"

"There is nothing much you can do to rush it. You must wait until your mother sends us a sign to make it official. Athena is quite busy right now with the war, so it may take a little while."

Albert nodded solemnly.

"And who is this fine young man?" Chiron asked, turning his bright gaze on Sammy. The centaur looked a little wild to tell the truth. His hair wasn't slicked back or really styled at all, his beard could use a trim, and he was only wearing a button-up orange shirt. But his eyes were so soft, so kind, Sammy found himself trusting him immediately.

"I'm Sammy sir, well, Samuel Leonardo Valdez. I'm actually a mortal. I came to help Al, and deliver word of a very special quest."

He grinned as he saw the nearest demigods lean closer, their eyes brightening at the word 'quest.' Sammy was now one hundred percent certain that his plan would work. By this time next week, he'd be down here toasting frankfurters with Hazel beside him.

"Did the gods send you?" A tall boy from the lightning-bolt section asked. When he spoke, everyone around turned toward him, so Sammy guessed he was somebody important.

"Not really, at least, I don't think so, but Apollo helped me out in Philadelphia."

The boy nodded, his blue eyes revealing nothing about his opinion, so Sammy kept going.

"See, we're from New Orleans-"

"Speak up, we can't hear you back here!" One of the kids behind him called.

Sammy looked to Chiron to make sure he was allowed to speak here. The centaur nodded, and Sammy turned to face the crowd.

"Albert and I come from New Orleans," he announced, raising his voice so everyone could hear. All eyes trained on him, and even the fire turned low and quiet, like it was listening too. Such an attentive audience made Sammy want to ham it up more, so he decided to start with his adventures with Albert, and save Hazel for the grand finale.

So he started. It was amazing how long a few month seemed, but memories of things like being attacked by a fire breathing goat and a magic horse carrying him from New Orleans to North Carolina in a few minutes really didn't fade with time. The details of the trip were surprisingly fuzzy at times though. Lack of sleep probably didn't help that, but when he was in doubt, he just gave the most dramatic version of events he could think of, and stepped on Albert's foot when he started to contradict him.

Al seemed to be getting into it though. He raised the chimera tooth for everyone to see, and reminded Sammy whenever he missed something important or exciting.

The crowd stayed silent for the most part, but Sammy could tell their reaction from the colors the fire turned whenever he reached an extra exciting bit. When they almost drowned with the lion, Sammy gave a long pause, just to tease them, and the blaze turned white hot.

Finally he reached their arrival at camp. He glossed over the whole smashing-the-dragon-robot-thing, but he could see Henry glaring at him anyway.

When he paused to catch his breath before starting on the Hazel bit, one kid -an Athena by the look of him- raised his hand.

"I see a question from the Athena side," Sammy chirped, pointing at him. It felt good to be able to call on someone like a teacher. Huh, he hadn't even really thought about how much school he'd been missing lately. Well, a lot of kids dropped out of school around his age, but his mom had really been hoping he would at least finish eighth grade.

"You never explained how you got those cursed gems," the Athena boy complained. "You act as though you had them before you even met Albert."

Sammy grinned, pushing his homesickness aside. "I'm glad you asked about that. See, I did have them before I met Crazy Kid here, because he wasn't the first demigod I met."

He allowed the surprised muttering to die down before he stepped forward with his hands on his hips. As the anticipation rose, the fire turned an even brighter shade.

"One of your sisters is in danger. Her name is Hazel Levesque, and she's a daughter of Pluto."

All of the sudden the fire turned ink black and sank against the ground. The muttering broke out again with a harsh new edge to it. The sudden change in mood was tangible, almost like some of the winter chill had broken through, and Sammy took a nervous step back. He glanced at Al, but the younger boy looked just as confused as he was.

When no one spoke, Sammy swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and gave them a push. "Come on, guys, she's one of you, right? We have to go rescue her."

"No. We don't."

Sammy turned as the blond lightning-bolt boy stood. He towered over Sammy, though he didn't seem like he was trying to intimidate him. He seemed calm, but a little angry too, and Sammy instinctively pushed Albert behind him.

"Children of Hades, that's Pluto's original name, have no place here in Camp Half-Blood."

"Why not?!" Sammy demanded. He was getting angry now. He'd come all this way, fighting monsters and demons and mattress salesmen, and now this?

"Because they're evil spawn of the underworld!" the mean soldier-boy, Tom, snapped as he stomped down toward them.

"Tom, leave them alone," Abigail demanded, but Sammy pushed her and Albert behind him with a warning glare.

He took a step toward Tom, his hands balling into fists.

"Don't you dare say that again. Hazel is the sweetest, nicest, best girl in the world, so don't - you - dare."

He felt Albert shy back away from him, alarmed by this unusual show of anger, but Sammy didn't care. He was at the end of his rope, and for a moment he didn't care that he was small and weak and mortal. He just wanted to wipe the twisted smirk off Tom's face.

"Oh really? Well, want to meet a couple of her brothers. Gregori Rasputin, who cursed the last Russian royalty and took poison, a bullet to the head, and a freezing river to kill. Attila the Hun, who conquered his way across Europe, impaling anyone he didn't like on pikes. Suspiciously similar to Vlad the Impailer, his half brother a few centuries removed, who was the inspiration for Dracula."

Tom grinned like a snake.

"Oh, and how could I forget, your little sweetheart's big brother of the hour, Adolf Hitler."

Sammy saw nods and whispers flying around the circle and it made him feel like his head was going to burst. Why was the entire world so dead set on judging people they'd never met, just based on some sort of sick classification? And why did it always come around to shun poor Hazel?

"What is wrong with you people?!" Sammy snapped. "You're supposed to be half god, so why do you ask the rest of the world, just deciding this group or that group isn't good enough to breath your air? You're all bastards, a lot of you are colored, haven't you had enough of all this? How can all of you just treat people like that? Why the hell am I the only person in this world who actually cares about Hazel?!"

Tom towered over him, eyes sharp and cold as steel.

"Maybe because you're just as evil as her."

All his life, Sammy had been told to suppress his random impulses. But not long ago, he'd followed his vibrating instincts to kiss Hazel, and her smile had been enough reward to cancel the scoldings he'd received from parents and teachers and brothers.

Which is why Sammy made no attempt to reign himself in as those same stupid, perfect, dangerous impulses sent his fist slamming across the stupid ratfink's smirking face with as much force as his thin arm could put behind it.

The boy reeled back from the impact, and for a moment, he looked more surprised than anything else, as though he couldn't believe Sammy had actually dared to hit him.

And judging from the anger that crossed his face next, Sammy guessed it would be one of the last things he did, but dear God, it felt good.

"Who do you think you are, pachuco?" Tom snapped, whipping out his celestial bronze sword.

"Tom, that is enough," the centaur demanded.

"No, no," Sammy purred. "Let him take his best shot." He raised his hands and gave him a taunting half bow.

"Both of you, stop this."

"He asked for it," Tom laughed, sending his sword down sideways, to strike Sammy broadside across the head.

But of course, it passed right through his head and all Sammy felt was the breeze of Tom's arm swinging in front of him.

The older boy blinked in bewilderment and dawning comprehension.

Laughter rippled through the demigods, so Sammy turned an took a bow. Occasionally being mortal was pretty sweet.

It would have been a great moment if Tom hadn't spun around and kicked him square on the seat of his pants, which sent his sprawling straight into the campfire.

It might well have been one of the most terrifying moments in Sammy's sure to be short life as he fell into the blaze, his arms flying out to catch his fall even though the ground was the least of his concerns. His heart seemed to have stopped, his brain had blown a fuse.

But as he reached the magical fire, it jumped out of his way.

He hit the blackened wood hard, his face inches from the actual blaze.

And for a moment, Sammy was hypnotized.

It was like another world, a painting come to life. The swirling, flickering colors before him stung his eyes, but he found he couldn't blink

It was Albert's shout that startled him back to reality.

"Sammy!"

He pushed himself back onto his sore bum, his hands battered and blackened with soot, but essentially unharmed. The fire slid back into place, jumping around, and agitated sort of lime green.

"Don't you do that!"

"OW! What the-"

Albert was kicking Tom in the shins, and with their size difference, it looked like a chihuahua attacking a big hunting hound. If Tom had been shocked by Sammy standing up to him, he was completely baffled now as he looked down at Crazy Kid, but he probably wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Oh for goodness sake," Chiron groaned. "Homer?"

Sammy rose to his feet just in time to be knocked right back down as one of the black-haired boys created a small earthquake by slamming his sword against the ground. Around him, demigods yelped, Tom, Albert, and Abigail fell to their knees, and the little flapper girl's stool rocked dangerously.

"Tom. Go back to your seat."

Chiron sounded calm, but his voice had an edge to it that made even Tom-the-bulldog back obey.

Sammy scrambled up and helped Albert to his feet. He reached out a hand for Abigail, but she had already risen, wearing a boys-are-tiresome sort of expression.

Annoyed, Sammy turned to the crowd.

"Hazel isn't evil! All the gods are related, which means she's your family. Please help her. Help me. Please."

His gaze swept the circle, but whenever he met anyone's eyes, they shook their heads or looked away.

"Mr. Chiron, sir, please," Sammy insisted, turning to the centaur, "Hazel isn't like that. She's not evil, she's not even a little bit mean. Please, we have to help her. Please."

Sammy didn't know how old Chiron was, but at that moment, he wouldn't have been too shocked to hear that he'd been around for centuries. The weariness in his face reminded Sammy of a Great War veteran.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Valdez."

Suddenly, it all seemed to crash down on Sammy. All the sleepless nights and long days, all the fights and races, the sword fighting and mind games and enchantments, the claw marks on his chest, his near drowning, the bag of bad luck in his pocket, the injustices and bigotry.

It was all just too much.

Without thinking, without any conscious command, his feet slid into motion. He ran. Ran past the fire and up the stairs, out of the amphitheater, and over the thick grass, into the growing darkness.

He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care.

For perhaps the first time in his life, he wasn't running toward anything.

He was just running away.

.

.

.

.

((PS: in the real world, Rasputin was probably honestly trying to help the Romanovs (and his reputation, but he certainly had nothing to gain by hurting his money ticket), and also, the whole poison-didn't-work, shot him, he got up, fell in the freezing river and eventually died of hypothermia story was made up by his assassins to make him seem more inhuman and creepy (though just find a picture of him, and you'll see that was not hard at all).))

((Also, in case anyone is confused, Demeter is the one keeping an eye on Camp Half-Blood. Since Dionysus only got the job recently, and the Camp gets some income from agriculture, I figured she would be the best candidate for the job in the pre-Mr. D era.))