Bianca is kinda strict—”
“It’s PG-13,” Grover said.
“Cool!” Nico happily followed him out of the room.
“Now,” Chiron said to Thalia and me, “perhaps you two should sit down and tell us the whole story.”
When we were done, Chiron turned to Mr. D. “We should launch a search for Annabeth immediately.”
“I’ll go,” Thalia and I said at the same time.
Mr. D sniffed. “Certainly not!”
Thalia and I both started complaining, but Mr. D held up his hand. He had that purplish angry fire in his eyes that usually meant something bad and godly was going to happen if we didn’t shut up.
“From what you have told me,” Mr. D said, “we have broken even on this escapade. We have, ah, regrettably lost Annie Bell—”
“Annabeth,” I snapped. She’d gone to camp since she was seven, and still Mr. D pretended not to know her name.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “And you procured a small annoying boy to replace her. So I see no point risking further half-bloods on a ridiculous rescue. The possibility is very great that this Annie girl is dead.”
I wanted to strangle Mr. D. It wasn’t fair Zeus had sent him here to dry out as camp director for a hundred years. It was meant to be a punishment for Mr. D’s bad behavior on Olympus, but it ended up being a punishment for all of us.
“Annabeth may be alive,” Chiron said, but I could tell he was having trouble sounding upbeat. He’d practically raised Annabeth all those years she was a year-round camper, before she’d given living with her dad and stepmom a second try. “She’s very bright. If . . . if our enemies have her, she will try to play for time. She may even pretend to cooperate.”
“That’s right,” Thalia said. “Luke would want her alive.”
“In which case,” said Mr. D, “I’m afraid she will have to be smart enough to escape on her own.”
I got up from the table.
“Percy.” Chiron’s tone was full of warning. In the back of my mind, I knew Mr. D was not somebody to mess with. Even if you were an impulsive ADHD kid like me, he wouldn’t give you any slack. But I was so angry I didn’t care.
“You’re glad to lose another camper,” I said. “You’d like it if we all disappeared!”
Mr. D stifled a yawn. “You have a point?”
“Yeah,” I growled. “Just because you were sent here as a punishment doesn’t mean you have to be a lazy jerk! This is your civilization, too. Maybe you could try helping out a little!”
For a second, there was no sound except the crackle of the fire. The light reflected in Mr. D’s eyes, giving him a sinister look. He opened his mouth to say something— probably a curse that would blast me to smithereens—when Nico burst into the room, followed by Grover.
“SO COOL!” Nico yelled, holding his hands out to Chiron. “You’re . . . you’re a centaur!”
Chiron managed a nervous smile. “Yes, Mr. di Angelo, if you please. Though, I prefer to stay in human form in this wheelchair for, ah, first encounters.”
“And, whoa!” He looked at Mr. D. “You’re the wine dude? No way!”
Mr. D turned his eyes away from me and gave Nico a look of loathing. “The wine dude?”
“Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I’ve got your figurine.”
“My figurine.”
“In my game, Mythomagic. And a holofoil card, too! And even though you’ve only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks you’re the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!”
“Ah.” Mr. D seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved my life. “Well, that’s . . . gratifying.”
“Percy,” Chiron said quickly, “you and Thalia go down to the cabins. Inform the campers we’ll be playing capture the flag tomorrow evening.”
“Capture the flag?” I asked. “But we don’t have enough—”
“It is a tradition,” Chiron said. “A friendly match, whenever the Hunters visit.”
“Yeah,” Thalia muttered. “I bet it’s real friendly.”
Chiron jerked his head toward
“It’s PG-13,” Grover said.
“Cool!” Nico happily followed him out of the room.
“Now,” Chiron said to Thalia and me, “perhaps you two should sit down and tell us the whole story.”
When we were done, Chiron turned to Mr. D. “We should launch a search for Annabeth immediately.”
“I’ll go,” Thalia and I said at the same time.
Mr. D sniffed. “Certainly not!”
Thalia and I both started complaining, but Mr. D held up his hand. He had that purplish angry fire in his eyes that usually meant something bad and godly was going to happen if we didn’t shut up.
“From what you have told me,” Mr. D said, “we have broken even on this escapade. We have, ah, regrettably lost Annie Bell—”
“Annabeth,” I snapped. She’d gone to camp since she was seven, and still Mr. D pretended not to know her name.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “And you procured a small annoying boy to replace her. So I see no point risking further half-bloods on a ridiculous rescue. The possibility is very great that this Annie girl is dead.”
I wanted to strangle Mr. D. It wasn’t fair Zeus had sent him here to dry out as camp director for a hundred years. It was meant to be a punishment for Mr. D’s bad behavior on Olympus, but it ended up being a punishment for all of us.
“Annabeth may be alive,” Chiron said, but I could tell he was having trouble sounding upbeat. He’d practically raised Annabeth all those years she was a year-round camper, before she’d given living with her dad and stepmom a second try. “She’s very bright. If . . . if our enemies have her, she will try to play for time. She may even pretend to cooperate.”
“That’s right,” Thalia said. “Luke would want her alive.”
“In which case,” said Mr. D, “I’m afraid she will have to be smart enough to escape on her own.”
I got up from the table.
“Percy.” Chiron’s tone was full of warning. In the back of my mind, I knew Mr. D was not somebody to mess with. Even if you were an impulsive ADHD kid like me, he wouldn’t give you any slack. But I was so angry I didn’t care.
“You’re glad to lose another camper,” I said. “You’d like it if we all disappeared!”
Mr. D stifled a yawn. “You have a point?”
“Yeah,” I growled. “Just because you were sent here as a punishment doesn’t mean you have to be a lazy jerk! This is your civilization, too. Maybe you could try helping out a little!”
For a second, there was no sound except the crackle of the fire. The light reflected in Mr. D’s eyes, giving him a sinister look. He opened his mouth to say something— probably a curse that would blast me to smithereens—when Nico burst into the room, followed by Grover.
“SO COOL!” Nico yelled, holding his hands out to Chiron. “You’re . . . you’re a centaur!”
Chiron managed a nervous smile. “Yes, Mr. di Angelo, if you please. Though, I prefer to stay in human form in this wheelchair for, ah, first encounters.”
“And, whoa!” He looked at Mr. D. “You’re the wine dude? No way!”
Mr. D turned his eyes away from me and gave Nico a look of loathing. “The wine dude?”
“Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I’ve got your figurine.”
“My figurine.”
“In my game, Mythomagic. And a holofoil card, too! And even though you’ve only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks you’re the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!”
“Ah.” Mr. D seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved my life. “Well, that’s . . . gratifying.”
“Percy,” Chiron said quickly, “you and Thalia go down to the cabins. Inform the campers we’ll be playing capture the flag tomorrow evening.”
“Capture the flag?” I asked. “But we don’t have enough—”
“It is a tradition,” Chiron said. “A friendly match, whenever the Hunters visit.”
“Yeah,” Thalia muttered. “I bet it’s real friendly.”
Chiron jerked his head toward
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