Percy Jackson Love Story -- Chapter 4
Posted April 4th, 2011 by WolfWriter
in Värmland, Sweden
We stopped in front of Cabin 8, its warm moonlight glow radiating like the Apollo cabin radiated sunlight. Before I even came close to the door, I heard Helen howl happily, joyful that I had come back and hopeful that I would play with her or take her for a walk around Camp. When I opened the door, the bundle of white fur pounced on me, right into my arms, so that I almost buckled under the weight. I caught her awkwardly and set her down, and the wolf spun in circles, chasing her tail and yapping. I giggled.
“Helen, don’t let me leave you alone that long again, if this is how spazzy you’ll be when I let you out,” I told her. Percy laughed and let her sniff his hand. Helen was curious about him, and a bit cautious at first, but then she began to warm up to him and was soon sitting at his feet, leaning against his leg as he stroked her head.
I watched them, smiling, for a while, before clapping my hands and calling Helen to my side. She came reluctantly, and I waved to Percy as I stepped into my cabin.
“See you, Percy,” I called.
He waved back and I was about to close the door when he shouted, “Wait!” and held it open. I raised an eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“I was just wondering…if…uh, if you didn’t have plans if…you would want to come to the fireworks tonight with me?” he stuttered.
My heart melted instantly. I had forgotten that today was July 4, the night of the fireworks. It was like the date night for Campers. I could hardly contain the massive smile tugging at my lips.
“I’d love to! Of course!”
He looked relieved. “Okay, well, see you tonight, then!”
I didn’t close the door this time. I watched, instead, as Percy turned and walked triumphantly away, meeting up with a satyr (Grover, was it?) and apparently telling him all about how he was going to the fireworks with the daughter of Apollo. I beamed as I let my legs give out, so I could collapse on my bed and sigh dreamily. I groaned as Helen jumped up on my stomach, though, and began to lick my face.
“You like Percy, don’t you, girl?” I muttered, stroking her thick white fur.
She barked lightly and jumped off the bed, then rolled onto her back and waiting for a belly rub. Sometimes I think she can understand me; other times, not so much. I knelt beside her and humored her, the wolf’s tongue lolling and her tail wagging a hundred miles per hour.
“I don’t blame you,” I laughed. “I can’t wait for the fireworks. It’s kind of a lot to take in for one day. This morning, I was with the Hunters, a devoted member, and now I’m going to the fireworks with the most amazing guy ever. I have a lot to be thankful for. Well, not the whole getting kicked out of the Hunters thing, but other than that…I mean, I have you and Percy, don’t I? And I’m sure Thalia will send an Iris message every once in a while. What more do I need?”
I looked down at my shirt. “Oh yeah. I need a change of clothes, don’t I? I should go ask Chiron about that…”
I apologized to Helen once again for leaving her alone, then left reluctantly, assuring her that it was important. I would need more than two shirts. As I walked to the Big House, I couldn’t help but look in vain for Percy. And I also couldn’t help but notice the other campers eyeing me curiously. The news must have spread. I tried to smile and hold my head higher, make even the Aphrodite kids jealous of my confidence. Even if I didn’t look the best today, what with my hair pulled back in a now-messy ponytail with random strands falling by my face, I was proud and felt great. I strutted up to the Big House and knocked on the doors. No answer. I hadn’t been expecting one. So I just threw open the doors myself and stepped inside.
The walls were lined with pictures and articles, somehow pertaining to Camp Half-Blood, along with various artifacts such as swords and bow/arrow sets. I didn’t know which direction to head in to find Chiron, and had no clue where his apartment was, so I began to wander through the building, through various rooms and flights of stairs, looking for the Activities Director and hoping I wouldn’t get it too much trouble if someone less tolerant—oh, how about Mr. D?!—found me walking aimlessly. One might think I was up to no good. Sometimes, that is the case, but not this time. Finally, after about half an hour of searching I reached the end of the fourth floor. There was nowhere else to look. Chiron must be out, maybe at the archery range with some of the demigods. I leaned against a wall and sank into a sitting position, resting my chin on my knees in dismay. Helen would be ticked that I was gone this long either way, but it killed me to think I’d wasted all this time and had nothing to show for it.
I inclined my head and moaned. That’s when I saw it. A cord running from a square cut into the ceiling. A door. A door to the attic. I got to my feet and looked around to make sure no one was looking. Then I reached up and gave the cord a yank. The door opened, sending a cloud of dust onto me, and a group of stairs clattered into place. I grinned. In an instant, I was at the top of the ladder/stair thingy and found myself in a dusty and crowded attic. Everything was covered in filth and it smelled like old people and nasty old gym shoes. Not pleasant. And really unpleasant when you see a skeletal corpse dressed like a hippie staring at you. I almost fell down the ladder when I saw it, and that’s when I remembered that this was where the Oracle has always stayed. Well, that is, if you don’t count the time when she decided to take a stroll into the forest to visit my very close former friend, Zoë Nightshade, who also happened to be Lieutenant of the Hunters before her death at the hand of her father, Atlas. She had been one of my best friends, and I had only known her for a few days, having joined the Hunters just before Bianca di Angelo. Also dead. Wow, my life was depressing.
Anyway, I stumbled among the various stashed artifacts thrown away by past demigods and made my way to stand in front of the hippie Oracle. I totally forgot why I was even there. All I could think of was that this was my chance to ask the Oracle anything. And that her face was starting to creep me out.
“Uhhh…” I said stupidly. Then I did something really brilliant and poked her shoulder. I cried out and almost puked when there was a sickening crunch at the lightest touch. “Oh, that’s just not right…uh, so yeah. Oracle. I was wondering if…uh…Percy Jackson and I will…uh…” I scratched the back of my neck nervously. Deep breath. “What is the destiny of Percy Jackson and I?”
There was no response. I stared for a while, wondering what I did wrong, waiting for a prophecy or something. But the corpse of the oracle just stared at me, and it started to really creep me out having a dead hippie prophet looking at me.
Great, I thought. I’m insane. I’m talking to a dead person and hoping they will talk back or spew mist or something. I need to find a psychologist.
I started to get impatient, fidgety (stupid ADHD…) as I waited for nothing. Then it hit me. And I wanted to hit myself. My jaw dropped and I muttered something really complicated under my breath in Greek, not really knowing what I was doing. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Some daughter of Apollo I was! A decent daughter of Apollo would have remembered that this mummified…thing…was no longer the oracle. It was some other mortal girl who lived in Camp Half-Blood. And she was actually a living being, which was encouraging.
I waved at the former oracle, wondering why she was even there, still, and leapt nimbly down the ladder. The light of the halls were refreshing, and I walked calmly out of the Big House innoticed, forgetting why I had come there in the first place. Now, rather than a shirt, I was on a mission to receive a prophecy.
The oracle was nothing like I imagined her. She had red hair and was dressed almost as oddly as the OTHER oracle. Not a good sign when your style resembles that of an ancient prophet thing. But her eyes were dancing and full of life when she saw me, and she invited me in.
“Uh…” I said lamely as I looked around the cave-like place. “So, yeah, I’m Wolf…and I was looking for a prophecy…”
“I would assume so,” she replied with a grin. “I’m Rachel Elizabeth Dare, oracle, obviously.”
I shifted nervously. “I was wondering if you could tell me the destiny of myself and Perseus Jackson…?”
I was expecting her to go into a trance, like oracles should, but instead she just smiled. “I had a dream about you coming here, and a dream about Percy, too. I’ve kind of been waiting for you.”
“Please,” I pleaded, “can you give me a prophecy?”
She was silent, and she closed her eyes. Then, suddenly, her head snapped up and
a haunting voice that was not her own was uttered. Her gestures and movements were jerky and unnatural, and I stumbled back, my eyes wide.
“Three shall set out in the dead of the night
Risking life and limb, risking light
Daughter of prophecy will seek favor with her father
Son of the Earthshaker may be lost forever
The Tri-Blood among heroes will be revealed
But all will perish
Unable to be saved by neither sword nor shield”
My mouth was wide open as I stared at her, trying to absorb her words. All I understood was that we were all supposed to die. Percy, son of the Earthshaker, might be lost…forever. And heaven knows what a Tri-Blood is, or the daughter of the prophecy. I didn’t bother thanking Rachel or anything; I ran, stumbling over a stone and slicing my hand on a piece of a shattered pot that seemed to appear out of nowhere. I suppressed a whimper and jumped to my feet, running full-speed across the Camp acres, not caring that everyone was staring. I didn’t stop, even though Percy called me, concerned, until I reached Cabin 8 and slammed the door shut.
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