Chapter Text
This is the first time I've ever been in a limousine. I squeeze the cushions; they're softer than I thought, smells like freshly cut apples in here. In front of me is a side table with a lot of cup holders and a TV attached to the walls. Crystal clear champagne glasses line its shelves, with actual champagne placed precariously in an ice bucket. It looks freshly opened.
I unload my backpack onto the seat next to me. I only packed the essentials - mostly food, clothes, and all the medical supplies I could find, of which we had a lot hidden in the walls of my apartment. Seriously, Mom is too paranoid; or maybe the right amount, considering I am going to be in a lot of danger soon.
I sat in silence while Rachel typed on her laptop. She was wearing what appeared to be a school uniform, though it was more purple than her previous one. Her outfit consisted of a long white dress with puffy sleeves and gold trimmings at the ends, complemented by her classic green neckerchief and amethyst. This time, she also wore an open blazer that was a mix between a robe, cape, and vest. Entirely purple with gold trimmings.
I couldn’t tell if this was an improvement; I’m not exactly a fashion expert. However, it certainly looked like something a rich girl would wear. The one-eyed kid accidentally bumped into her, knocking her beret askew. She readjusted it in half a second and continued typing without losing speed. She's in the zone.
“Ahhh… When is Grover getting here?”
“The goat phantasmal will come in approximately ten minutes, seven point zero three seconds, and nine point nine times ten to the minus forty four seconds in Planck Time.” She said robotically while continuing to type. Her fingers were moving at speeds that should be giving her carpal tunnel.
What the heck is Planck Time?
"And how do you know that?"
"I divine the precise time using Astromacy Magecraft, with a fifteen-point seven percent margin of error. Acceptable parameters," she replied. Her fingers moved non-stop, and the typing was getting on my nerves.
"What are you typing?"
"A list of possible events ordered by the percentage of likelihood."
"Right… How long have you been doing that?"
"Since three AM Eastern Standard Time."
"What!? And you're still typing!?"
"There are a lot of possibilities."
"Did you even sleep?"
"I used caffeine."
The one-eyed kid, I think his name is Tyson, gently nudged her. That caused her to freeze mid-way, her eyes looking at his one. Emerald to his big browns, it was watery with a lot of innocence. The boy whimpered and she closed the laptop.
"It's fine," she calmly pet his shoulders. "I’ve already performed a codecast. Sleep should elude me for the next forty-eight hours."
"Ok?" the big kid said.
"I’m ok," she said with the most emotion I’ve heard all day.
I still don’t understand the relationship between these two. She says he's her familiar but she doesn’t treat him like one. In the best cases, mages treat their familiars like pets, but will always sacrifice them for their end goals. Here, it's different. Maybe she’s a different mage? No. All magi are the same, all selfish to the end.
“You’re wondering, aren’t you Saber?” Her voice brought him out of his thoughts. “I don’t do this out of personal gain. Even if it is my punishment, it’s still the will of Atlas.”
“The kami?”
She let out a small giggle. “I’m glad there are things even the stars can’t predict. No. That’s just a name. Surely the Grail has told you about the Atlas institute?”
I arched an eyebrow. The Atlas Institute is one of the three branches of the Mage Association. I've heard of it, but the Grail has deemed that information irrelevant, so it hasn't bothered to tell me anything beyond that.
“I don’t know much.”
"Understandable, even among the Mage Association, we are a myth. Though I guess we all are now…" Her tone was somber as she looked straight out the windows. We weren't moving; the limousine stood in front of a park, but I couldn't tell which one it was. The sun was just coming up, casting everything in twilight. I kept my word, though. I’d already packed everything the day before, kissed my Mom goodbye, and quickly ate my breakfast. It felt like an average school day, except for the whole Holy Grail War thing. The limousine was already waiting outside, so I got in and we drove all the way here. Where ever ‘here’ is?
“This is where the phantasmal sleeps.”
I looked out the window, wondering which apartment it was.
“No.”
“Over there?” I pointed at a closed grocery store.
“Try there.”
“Next to the park?”
“In the park.”
“He lives in a park?”
“I believe he sleeps there.”
“He’s homeless!?” I scream, causing the one eyed kid to glance at me for a second before returning to his game boy.
"But isn’t that," I was about to say illegal, but then again, I shouldn't be throwing stones. I did kinda break a few laws during my battle with the dog. Maybe I’m a bit irritated because we're taking up two parking spaces. That’s what Gabe does. Well, at least we're paying the meter maids, both of them, and not on me for once… I hate Gabe, so much.
“Technically yes, but the police don’t know. I believe he used his authority to hide his presence from the law and muggers.”
“Kinda like what you did?”
“Yes...”
I was aware that Grover didn't have much, but I never realized that he was actually homeless. I had always assumed he was a foster child, a sheltered kid who got held back a few grades. Looking back, there were many signs I missed. He always seemed to be short on money, and he didn't mind sleeping on the ground. He was often hungry, and now I feel terrible for pressuring him to buy me a Pepsi once. All he wanted was the empty can afterward, which I found a little odd at the time. I just thought it was one of his quirks, he was a rather quirky kid.
“Man…” I looked towards the park, I still can’t get that thought out of my head. Maybe I should treat him to something nice. I didn’t bring a lot of cash with me but I could at least buy him an enchilada.
“Yes. Not too dissimilar to Tyson.”
The one eyed boy wore a nice t-shirt that says Queen under a logo with a hawk and two lions holding a crown. Blue jeans, new sneakers, even his hair trimmed, fine black with a fade. He was engrossed in his game, not really paying attention to any of us.
“Really?”
“Indeed. I found Tyson in an alley, scavenging for food.”
I looked up at him. “You’re homeless too?”
That got the kid to stop playing, and he finally locked eyes with me. Brown eyes, like milk chocolate, like a child opening a present on Christmas day.
“I have home now.”
Rachel smiled. “I convinced my parents to adopt him.” She said it as if it were an everyday thing.
“You could do that!?”
“I gave them my perspective and countered all their arguments. They had no choice unless they wanted to be hypocrites. It was rather funny to see my father tongue-tied.” Her grin was so big it was ear to ear.
“Like a sphinx!” the boy clapped his hands.
“That phantasmal was a hack. All textbook riddles. She couldn't even answer any of mine. My words alone were enough to make her flee with her tail between her legs,” Rachel replied smugly.
“And magic bullets!” Tyson added excitedly.
“And that. Yes.”
Her tone whiplashed again, from preppy and snarky to cold and analytical. It was as if I was talking to two different minds in the same body. Yet, unmistakably, it was the same person. Is she flipping a switch in her mind? Or is it a mage thing? Or she could just be insane. That sounds plausible.
"Are you upset, Saber? Did I say something wrong?" The tone changed again.
"No, it's just that... you're a bit weird, you know?"
Her face blanked, even more than before, which I didn't think was possible. Her poker face was so good that she could outdo all of Gabe's poker buddies. Which isn’t a high bar now that I think about it. Tyson, however, wasn't amused.
"She's not weird! You're weird!" His voice rocked the limousine with power. For a second, I thought about drawing my blade.
"Tyson," her voice was low, barely audible, but it made the boy stop. "Please, Saber is a friend."
The boy calmed down, his one eye still glaring at me.
"Sorry, he’s… Defensive,"
Tyson growled.
He's loyal, I'll give him that. In some ways, he's a bit like Grover, though never this bold. I can respect that. If it were any of my friends, I’d do the same, not that I have many. It's really just Grover now. I’ve never had many opportunities to make lasting friendships. Eventually, people would write me off as too much trouble. I'm not the most welcoming person, so I guess it's partly my fault. I wonder when he’ll leave me too. It’s the same in my last life: always alone, in battle, in duty, in life. If this is my lot… Then I’m fine with that.
"The phantasmal comes," her voice broke the tension. I looked towards the park, the sky quickly turning light blue. I could see the usual joggers, dog owners, and people walking; the street was waking up. I could vaguely see movement near the bushes. I really hoped he didn’t sleep there—who knows what hobos do in those.
“In three, two, one… Hmm? Did I miscal–”
“Percy!?” Grover knocked on the windows.
“Is everything alright, Grover? Was the food not to your liking?” She asked.
The goat boy was sitting really close to me, on the other side of the couch directly opposite to Tyson. He held a salad bowl in his hands, his fork trembling with a green leaf halfway to his mouth. Dressed in a green t-shirt, a blue jacket, and khaki shorts, his goat legs were visible for all to see, his horns barely rose above his curly hair.
“I think I still have some leftover blue pasta in the mini fridge. No worries, it's all made with vegan ingredients and locally sourced. I assure you, it's as good as any five-star restaurant.”
“Good!” Tyson yelled and Grover yelped. His arm flung the salad out of his hands and onto the floor. Covering his face, he whispered, “Please don’t eat me,” over and over again.
I don’t get it. Is Tyson really that terrifying? Sure, he’s a phantasmal, but so is Grover. Tyson doesn’t seem dangerous; I’m confident I could take him down in two moves. Compared to the yokai I’ve slain, Tyson is a puppy—potentially dangerous, but not a high threat. I don’t sense any deception from him or his master, so Grover’s fear seems unwarranted. If that changes, however, I won’t hesitate.
“Grover. Are you alright dude?” I calmly said and that did cause the goat boy to simmer a bit.
"It’s fine, Tyson won’t hurt you," I reassured Grover, looking at Rachel, who nodded in agreement.
“Indeed. It is as he says,” she confirmed.
“How sure are you!?” Grover panicked, his body pressing closer to mine, nearly pushing me off the seat.
“I see. Then a demonstration is in order,” Rachel said, closing her eyes and moving closer to Tyson. “Tyson, wrap your hands around my neck.”
Grover flinched.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
Rachel remained serene, while Tyson looked confused. “Take your hands and wrap them around my neck,” she repeated. Tyson quickly shook his head.
She sighed. “I call upon our contract.” Tyson froze, his body twitching. “Tyson, take your hands and strangle me until he says stop.” His hands were on her neck in seconds, his eyes filling with tears and his teeth clenching.
“Stop! What are you doing!?” I yelled.
“I can’t!” Tyson cried.
I summoned my blade, a wisp of green petals and a breeze filling the limousine. I was fully prepared to cut his arms off.
“No, Saber,” Rachel barely managed to choke out, her eyes locked on Grover, who was terrified. “My life,” she whispered as her face turned purple.
“Stop! Please! Tell me to stop!” Tyson screamed in pain, his voice shaking the car.
“I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-” Grover stammered like a broken record. Then we all heard an audible crack. “Stop!” he screamed.
Tyson finally let go, and Rachel slumped onto the couch. I quickly rushed to her, trying to feel for any signs of life. Tyson was crying in the corner. Grover couldn’t move; he was frozen on the couch. I tried to check for a pulse but didn’t know how, so I felt her body, trying to sense any trace of mana. I detected a small pulse, and her eyes opened. She coughed before attempting to lift herself. Placing her hand on her neck, the strangle marks visibly disappeared, and her color returned to normal.
“See,” she whispered.
Tyson immediately pushed me out of the way, knocking me to the floor. He was crying on her shoulder while Rachel petted his head.
“Shhh. It’s alright, I’m fine,” she soothed him.
No one moved until the tension died down, and I was the first to speak.
“What the hell is wrong with you!?”
“I... Ha. Forgive me. I was trying to show Grover my dedication.” We all fell silent at her words. “I gave you power over life and death. If Tyson were as cruel as you believe, he would never have listened to you.”
“That’s insane. You’re insane!” I yelled back. “What if he hadn’t listened? What if you’d died?”
“Then I’m fully prepared. I’ve left behind notes with specific instructions to help you on your journey. I am fully committed to the cause, even if it means sacrificing my life.”
I was still flabbergasted. I looked at Tyson, who was clinging tightly to Rachel’s clothes, his eyes streaming with tears. Then I glanced at Grover; his body was pale, and I had never seen him so scared before. His eyes were lifeless. Finally, I turned to Rachel. She was perfectly fine, the determination in her eyes unwavering. She was fully ready to die. I was right—mages were insane.
“I…” Grover finally spoke, then paused. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again. “I have to go.” He slowly got up and exited the limousine.
There was a heavy silence that lingered until the door clicked shut.
“I think I may have miscalculated,” Rachel groaned.
“You think!? Why would you do that!?” I snapped.
“I saw it in the stars. This was the most efficient way,” she said somberly. But I couldn’t listen to her anymore. I got up and followed Grover out, hearing Rachel call my name as I closed the door behind me.
“Grover!” I called out to him. He was walking back to the park. “Grover, wait!”
I touched his shoulder, and he flinched again. His head turned so fast I thought it would break, but the panic subsided a little when he saw me.
“Percy…”
“Grover, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she would do that.”
“No. No. It’s fine…”
“No, it’s not. None of this is fine.” I let go, my feet stomping on the ground. When did my life get so crazy? Was it before or after the magic stuff? “I’m so sorry, Grover. I should never have put you through that. And you being homeless and all… It just made it worse.”
“Homeless?”
“I should have known never to trust magi. We could—”
“No, Percy, it’s not that. It’s just…” His eyes wouldn’t meet mine. If it wasn’t Rachel, then there was only one other person he was thinking about.
“If this is about Tyson, then don’t worry. If he does something, I’ll slay him.”
“No! It's not him,” he said quickly. “It’s… In the past, I met other cyclopes. They weren’t good people. I lost friends because of them. Family. There are a lot of stories of one-eyed monsters tricking and eating people. I was told all my life that cyclopes are monsters.”
I understand. I knew tales of a lot of yokai that didn’t do them justice; the reality was far crueler. People like Tyson are the exception. It's difficult to remove bias, especially when it’s proven right. At the end of the day, Tyson is a monster, and all monsters are dangerous. But so are people.
“I know a lot of people who are the same. And they're no different from you or me. The world is a dangerous place, Grover. Even in today's era, it’s still the same if you know where to look.” I lost myself for a moment, remembering hunting creatures in the dark, killing bandits on the battlefield. All the yokai I fought—they were the same, filled with fury and bloodlust.
But Tyson was not like that at all. I couldn’t find one hint of malice. My last life taught me all about deception, and I couldn’t detect any of that in him. The only time I sensed anything was when I insulted Rachel. But being protective could be argued as a noble trait.
“Tyson isn’t like the others, Grover. He’s different. If he was, I would strike him down.”
“When did you become so… murdery?”
Huh? This is how I usually talk… Or maybe those were my inner thoughts slipping out. Wonder what that says about me?
“It’s okay if you don’t trust him, Grover. But if you can’t, trust me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. If he does, I’ll behead—”
“Okay! Okay, I get it.” He sighed. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks, Grover. That’s all I ask for.”
The goat boy smiled, half of it was a lie.
We both walked back to the limousine. I entered first and Grover last. It still smelled like fresh apples, but the atmosphere really brought down the mood. Tyson was still wiping his eye, Rachel looked sullen, her head bowed to us.
"I'm sorry. I took it too far. I was so sure that–"
"Yeah. The bowing. Not a good look for you." I scratched the back of my head. I looked to Grover; he was just as uncomfortable as I am.
"Still, I'm sorry. My common sense has been skewed of late. I am experiencing mental fatigue. Please, Grover. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry–"
"It's fine. It’s all fine. Just, stop." Grover lifted his hands in a pleading gesture, his face wearing an awkward smile. With that, we all sat down. Grover still looked at Tyson warily but not as fearfully as before.
"Sure," she said with an emotionless tone, making her apology sound as sincere as a politician. It's like a switch with this girl; does she do this on purpose? I looked at Grover, but he seemed as concerned as a goat with a bucket of oats.
She straightened her posture and pulled out her laptop. "I've calculated the precise address for the camp."
"What?" The goat boy squeaked, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.
"Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141, Long Island, New York 11954. Its cover is Delphi Strawberry Service, a shell company founded in the 1930s. It functions as a strawberry delivery company for local grocery stores."
"How do you know that? It's supposed to be a secret!"
"Secrets don’t last long with me," she said, typing at an insane speed like she was challenging the keyboard to a duel. "Too many destinies converging in one place, like a beacon. The stars revealed it to me. After that, finding the specifics was child's play."
"Oh... Right?" Grover replied awkwardly, still unsure how to contribute to the conversation. "Well, I've tried to send an iris message to tell them we're coming, but..."
"The bounded field has been modified. A servant has taken over the leyline," her words tumbling out like she was auditioning for a role in an auction house.
"The what?"
"The specifics of who escape me. Whoever it is, they're powerful. So bright, they blind even the stars," she rattled off, her eyes darting as she read quickly.
"Stars?"
"Whoever it is has declared the camp their workshop. It’s a situation not too different from San Francisco, but on a much smaller scale. I can rule out Caster and the servant you fought earlier, I believe, Lancer. That leaves Berserker, Archer, Assassin, and Rider."
"Wait. Did you say Berserker?"
She finally stopped. Her entire body paused for a few seconds, fingers frozen mid-type. She didn’t even breathe. I was about to check on her when she resumed typing like nothing had happened.
"The stars have shifted." She whispered, closing her laptop.
“Can someone explain what’s going on!?”
“Yeah… I’m just as clueless as you.” I patted Grover's shoulders.
"We must go now," she said, pressing a button on the wall and speaking into the intercom. We braced ourselves as the vehicle start to move. "The commute time is forty minutes to two hours, depending on morning traffic."
We both looked at her, our eyes both surprised and not at the same time.
“I’d like to discuss strategies. If it is Berserker we must–”
“Hold on. We're not listening to anything until you explain what's going on!” I debated, my words leaving her looking like a deer caught in headlights. She blinked before light returned to her eyes.
“Oh… Did I do it again?” She whimpered.
The presentation that followed was a long and detailed discussion on the pros and cons of the mysterious servant. Grover got lost within the first ten minutes, and Tyson was fast asleep on the couch. I struggled to keep up as she threw around complex terms and rituals like a human thesaurus. She elaborated on their applications, history, shortcomings, and threat level, then veered off into an explanation of arithmetic using Roman numerals. Should I be taking notes?
“And by calculating the light reflected from the moon, I was able to–”
“Okay, okay! I get it, you're smart. Can you stop showing off already? I don’t think you’ve said a single thing I’ve understood in the past five minutes.”
She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to lose you. I just thought it was important to explain everything in detail."
"Yeah, well, unless the moon is going to help us fight a servant, maybe just stick to the basics," I suggested. She opened her mouth to protest but then closed it.
Grover nodded vigorously. "Please. My brain feels like it’s been put through a blender," he said, massaging his forehead.
"Alright," she sighed, closing her laptop. "The short version: there's a powerful servant at the camp, and we need to be ready for anything."
"See? That I can understand," I said, patting Grover's shoulder. "Now, let's just get there and hope the strawberries are worth it."
"I'd go for some strawberries right about now. No, scratch that. Enchiladas," Grover mumbled, licking his lips.
"Oh, that's right. You didn't eat breakfast," I said, glancing out the window as we passed a bridge. I wondered if there was a good Mexican place nearby, or maybe a food truck. Rachel probably knew.
"Hey, is there–"
"I packed some in the mini-fridge," Rachel interrupted.
"You think of everything, huh?"
"It’s my job," she replied, taking out a tin foil container and heating it with her hands. The foil bubbled, and the steam carried the delicious scent of food. Tyson started to stir, his nostrils flaring at the aroma. When it was done, she ripped off the foil, revealing ten delicious enchiladas.
Grover looked suspicious, as anyone would be if a mage offered them food. But hunger won out, and I'd never known Grover to refuse a meal.
"Well, don't just stare at them," Rachel said with a small smile. "Dig in."
Grover hesitated for a moment before grabbing an enchilada and taking a big bite. His eyes widened in delight. "This is amazing!"
"I knew you'd like it. I even included your favorite cheese: Gruyère and Monterey Jack with a sprinkle of Muenster for extra flavor."
"Wha?" he said with his mouth full. "How'd you know that?" He continued stuffing himself with enchiladas. I wanted to tell him to save some for me but reminded myself of Grover's financial woes. Poor kid.
"I, uh, read your horoscope?" Rachel offered awkwardly. But that was enough for Grover to stop listening and keep eating.
"Food?" Tyson's voice broke Grover's food frenzy. He locked eyes with the one-eyed kid, slowly putting more food in his mouth while Tyson watched him like a hawk.
"Don’t worry, Tyson. I left some for you as well," Rachel said, and the one-eyed boy's face lit up with the same glee as Grover's.
What happened next felt like a fever dream. I watched Tyson devour three whole pizzas and a full turkey. Scraps of food littered the floor, and I turned away the moment Tyson poured gravy into his mouth. All of that happened within two minutes. I don’t think the food was even microwaved. If anything, it put me off stuffing for life. I glanced at Grover; he seemed unfazed by this spectacle, quietly eating his enchiladas with a neutral expression.
"Wha?" Grover's mouth was stuffed. "Da ya seeh how yo eat?" He swallowed. "He’s just like you, a black hole. I don’t know where you put it all."
"I resent that."
"Eat in front of a mirror and say that again. You go absolutely crazy when it comes to rice." Grover took another bite of his enchilada.
I do like rice.
I watched as Rachel wiped Tyson’s face with a napkin, using her magecraft to clean his shirt and make the food scraps on the floor disappear. She was very tender, like an older sister looking out for her baby brother. But I sensed it was more complicated than that.
“Now that you’ve been sated, I think it's time to continue,” she said, vanishing the last of the scraps.
“Right.” I looked at Grover, finally finishing the enchiladas. It dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten anything.
“You mentioned Berserker earlier, correct?” She directed her question at Grover, his food high finally dissipating.
“Yeah…” He said awkwardly. “There was this kid. Annabeth said in an iris message that she showed up one day, and wreaked havoc on the camp. She said her name, Berserker, screamed it to the whole camp.”
Rachel closed her eyes. “The stars have seen it.” She opened them again, her eyes green with a violet light. “Her strength is extraordinary. A powerful ally, or enemy. But she has left.”
“Do you know who she is?” I asked in a low tone.
“I have theories, but I can’t be certain without seeing her myself. But what I can say is, she is not within the camp.”
Grover looked relieved but also more confused. “So, um… Ok, I have no idea what you're talking about with this servant thing... Is the camp under attack or something?”
Rachel sighed. “No. At least, I don’t think so. The servant in the camp is blinding, even to the stars. It’s difficult to pinpoint what they're doing, but I know they’re formidable. We must proceed with caution.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Another mystery to solve. Just what we needed.”
“Well, on the bright side, I have divine the three servants Caster procured,” she said with a smug smile. That was good news; I smiled back. Grover just looked even more confused, and Tyson wasn’t paying attention.
“I’m still not clear how he’s able to do that?”
“There was a... I can’t speak about it now. Your… Ha. Ha.” She huffed deep breaths. “Forgive me Saber. I can’t answer that yet.” She bowed again, and I am reminded of her role in this war. This was her punishment, something she accepts willingly, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“The servants. Ha. Are… Before my information was cut. I divine three servants.” She held her head, Tyson braced her before she could fall. She lay on his chest, sweat dripping down her face.
“If its too muc—”
"No, I must do this," she said, forcing herself to sit upright. "I couldn't find the names of the three, but the stars did give me visions." She held out her hand, and lights flickered into existence, mist correlating into form.
"The second vision showed a wolf." The mist transformed into a haunting white forest, and a wolf sprinted through the snow with a goat firmly gripped in its jaws. The wolf’s eyes were split yellow, fixed on me. Grover turned ashen, staring horrifyingly at the goat.
"The third vision was a spider." The mist shifted again, revealing a crystal ball manipulated by eight long, sinewy arms. Within, dolls twisted and writhed with every tilt, and countless eyes reflected off the glass, some seeming to lock onto me.
"And the first," Rachel's voice trembled as she bit her lip. The mist changed again, cities in flames under a burning sky. At the heart of the inferno loomed a colossal white titan, emitting a loud roar that shook me to my core. The vision seared into my mind, leaving a mark of dread. Rachel closed her hand, and the nightmarish scene dissolved into ether.
A pregnant pause filled the limousine.
“What was that?” Grover was the first to speak.
“Visions. This is all I could gather, before Caster shut me out. His power drowns even the stars.” She looks forlornly above. “The stars tell of omens. Even now, I sense another is near.”
"Do you know who any of them are?" I asked.
"The first two are a mystery, but the last... Saber, that is an enemy you cannot beat," she said, looking at me with hollow eyes. I could see her horror, desperation, and fear. I recognized those eyes; I had seen them on battlefields, in the eyes of youths who realized the grim reality of war before my blade struck them down.
“You know what that thing is?”
“Yes… That is one of the main reasons why I agreed on this plan. We need to gather more allies, artifacts, lore, mystery, anything we could get our hands on. You cannot face them alone and even then, I don’t think it’ll be enough.” The fear in her voice echoed within me.
“Wow, really bringing the doomsday in prophecy. You sure?” I fought plenty of strong beings, some gods, most monsters and people. Sure the vision looks intimidating, and brought out a fear in me that I thought long dead, but it couldn’t be that bad. The grail wouldn’t allow such a servant to be summoned. I mean… It looks too powerful to be true, the mana cost alone would kill a master in seconds.
“Positive.” Rachel sighed.
“Well.” I slouch on the couch, relaxing my back. “I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there.”
"Ahhh. Ok." Grover looked between us, his face still processing the information. "So, we're fighting a guy who can blow up a city?"
"Possibly," Rachel responded, leaving out the specifics.
"Ugh." I could probably do that too, if I really tried. Not that I ever would, but it's something to consider. Who knows what these servants are capable of? I just hope I have the resolve if it comes to that.
Just then, the limousine came to a sudden stop.
"We're here." Rachel was the first to move, mechanically opening the door and stepping out. It’s like she’d practiced that.
We found ourselves in a clearing, surrounded by dense forest on either side of a lonely road. The sun was just rising, its light glimmering under the trees. Ahead, a dirt path wound its way into the forest. Grover laughed and took a deep breath, savoring the clean air. It was a refreshing change from the city, one of the few reasons why I liked Yancy Academy.
"Thank you for your patronage, Mr. Barns," Rachel said to the driver, handing him a tip.
"Thank you, Ms. Dare. Though I’ll have to inform your father about this... departure," he replied in a kindly voice.
Rachel sighed. "Understandable."
Once Tyson unloaded our belongings, the limousine sped away, disappearing down the road.
"Let me help you there, buddy." I took my backpack off Tyson's shoulders, not wanting him to carry everything by himself. Tyson had a huge traveler's pack, stuffed to the brim with bedrolls and other gear. He must be incredibly strong to look so unbothered by the weight.
Rachel was wheeling a wooden box that was half her size. It seemed out of place, but she managed it with ease. Grover had his classic pack from his time at Yancy Academy. It looked worn down and scratched.
“What is that?” I said to Rachel.
“An offering.” She answered quietly.
I shrugged my shoulders, looking ahead to the woods. For some reason, this felt much more emotional than I had anticipated. It was as if, deep down, I’ve been waiting for this my whole life, standing in front of this dirt path, walking down this road. Weird.
"Okay, when we get there, let me do the talking," Grover spoke up, glancing at Tyson. "If this goes bad, they might start shooting arrows at us."
"That's fine, I caught many arrows in the past. Some with my teeth." Grover looks at me with a mix of confusion and disbelief. He couldn't tell if I was joking or not.
“Al-alright.” He mumbles out, then we begin walking.
This was incredibly relaxing. I haven't had the chance to stop thinking and just enjoy the scenery in a long time. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the profound quiet, it's never like this in the city. It reminds me of a distant land under a night sky, where silence is abundant, so peaceful yet so lonely. That's when I sensed it, something ahead of us. I stopped in my tracks.
“Percy?” Grover asked.
"The bounded field," Rachel declared, gently placing the handle of her box on the ground before stepping confidently in front of the ward.
“Oh, right. The barrier,” Grover blurted out. “I almost forgot. You can't come in unless—”
"That won't be necessary." With a calm demeanor, Rachel pressed her hand against the field. I watched as the shield turned visible around her palms. "Commencing codecast." Her voice, as cold as ice, accompanied by red veins creeping up her arm and into the dome. Tiny sparks of lightning danced around her, and her face contorted with the effort. I could feel the mana intensifying at the contact point, casting a faint glow. After a few moments, the light dimmed, and the veins retreated into her arms as she released the field.
"It’s done," she huffed, retrieving the handle and striding forward.
"Wait, you can't—"
She passed through effortlessly, followed by Tyson looking at the treetops.
"Ah..." Grover’s jaw dropped in astonishment.
"Come on, let's see this camp of yours." I reassured Grover, urging him to join me as we continued onward. He trailed behind, his gaze fixed on Rachel and Tyson ahead.
"Hey, um, Percy..." Grover’s voice lowered to a whisper.
"Huh?" I responded quietly.
"What is she?"
I glanced at Rachel, her red hair cascading over her shoulders. "I think she’s a magi?"
"But what does that mean? Is she some kind of god?"
"I... I don’t think so." I don’t sense any divinity from her, a bit from Tyson but she said he was adopted.
"That barrier was made by Lord Zeus, king of the gods. And yet, she just... How did she do that?" Grover struggled to keep his voice down.
"Magecraft?"
"No mortal mage can defy the will of the gods. And the way she’s behaving, I don’t think she's human." Grover’s voice trembled.
"That's correct, Grover Underwood," Rachel's voice cut through the air, startling the goat boy. "I'm not entirely human." She continued walking, her back turned to us. "But that shouldn’t bother you. After all, you yourself aren’t human either. Neither is Tyson, nor Saber. Aren’t we a merry band?" She giggled lightly.
Grover looked at me with the same wide-eyed expression as before. "Well, technically, she’s not wrong," I admitted with a shrug, and we pressed forward, Grover trailing not far behind.
“Word of warning.” Rachel's tone was deep, she glanced around the trees. “The servant probably knows we're here. I don’t know what lies ahead, so be ready for any–”
I grabbed an arrow mid-flight, just inches from Rachel’s face. It was so fast the girl didn’t have time to blink. I looked to my left, sensing the archer perched on a hill just outside the forest. More were popping up, each drawing their bows.
“Wait–” Grover screamed.
The arrows fell like rain, but that was nothing to me. I twisted in the air, the wind following my movements, blowing the arrows away and crushing each with my limbs. The sky turned into a shower of wood chips and arrowheads. When I land, none had hit their targets, and in each hand, I held a dozen bolts.
“—they’re with me! Ah?…” Grover held out his hand.
The archers were preparing to draw again. I was ready to blitz over there before the first arrow flew. I was about to summon my sword when–
"It’s me! Grover! The satyr!" Grover hollered, waving his hands.
That's when all the archers lowered their bows.
"Grover?" A high-pitched voice came from one of the archers. She jumped over a hill and walked towards us. My body tensed, one strike, it would be so easy.
"Percy," Grover whispered to me, his eyes pleading for me to stop.
I relented, lowering my arms.
"Grover? Why did you take the backroads? Why didn’t you call me!?" The girl yelled at my friend, her face as red as a tomato. She had curly blond hair braided into a ponytail, blue jeans, and wore an orange t-shirt. In fact, all the archers wore the same shirt, emblazoned with a winged horse and the words ‘Camp Half-Blood.’
"Annabeth! I can explain–"
"Are these new arrivals?" She looked towards us, unsheathing her bow. Her eyes lingered on Tyson. "Is that a cyclops!?" She screamed in horror.
Another arrow was sent flying, this time towards Tyson. I caught it mid-air.
I turned around, the new girl staring at me in shock, and Grover looked equally surprised.
"Wha?" I mumbled with the arrow between my teeth.
"Hey, watch it! That's too close to my face." I held my hands up as some kid with a sword waved it dangerously close to my cheeks. He looked like he was seven—was he a child soldier? I thought they abandoned that practice in this country. Why is a summer camp giving kids weapons?
"Hush, infidel!" The sword touched my cheek, but I didn’t even flinch.
"Gregory!" The girl Grover was talking to, Annabeth, I think, removed the sword from his hands, earning a whine from the boy.
"We don’t do that!"
"But he’s the bad guy!"
"We don’t know that." She hushed him, glancing at me before walking to the front. I guess she thought the other two with swords at my back would be enough. I giggled inside.
We were all corralled at sword—or mostly arrow—point on a gravel road. Most of the attention was directed towards Tyson. There were way more soldiers on him than on any of us; it was mostly the older kids. Rachel and I got three guards. All of them were wearing Greek armor. I noticed some with scars, and then there were their eyes. Most of them were green, but a few... they weren’t looking at Tyson. They were looking at me.
I scooted towards Rachel, who wasn’t even bothered; her blank eyes looked forward as she rolled the box along with her.
"Hey, what's the plan?" I whispered.
"We continue." Her voice betrayed no emotion.
"What about Tyson?"
"He’ll be fine."
"Hey! No talking!" the little kid yelled at me. He wore an oversized helmet that he had to constantly adjust. I looked towards Grover, who was walking in front of us, trying to explain something to Annabeth if his hand gestures were anything to go on. The girl shook her head, and he despairingly walked slower until he was right next to us.
"Sorry, Percy," he whimpered.
"It’s alright, Grover," I said, though I wasn’t so sure. Honestly, I didn’t see the danger here. All I saw were a bunch of kids playing soldier. The commander, Annabeth, I think, was running a very tight ship. Most of them never took their eyes off us. They were all very organized, even the older kids were following protocol and listening to her orders. If someone younger than me ordered me around, I wouldn’t be this cooperative.
"Hey, do you know what's going on?" I nudged closer to Grover.
"I... uh... I don’t know. When a satyr comes with new arrivals, this isn’t the usual welcoming committee. Something weird is going on." He looked towards the girl. "Annabeth won’t talk to me..."
"Oh, is she a Cyclops hater too?" I asked, recalling the look she gave Tyson. 'Pretty' was the furthest word I could use to describe it.
"It could be," Grover said, looking downwards.
"Do you at least know who these people are?" I quickly glanced backwards. Tyson was the furthest away from us, surrounded by at least twenty archers. His head was down—I’d never seen him look so sad.
"They’re from cabin six. Annabeth is their head counselor."
Counselor?
"Isn’t she a little…" I looked towards her, then at the older campers.
"Cabin six is different. They do elections, like Athens of old."
"So... four-year term limits?"
"More like four weeks and first pick from the snack bar. She’s been elected three times in a row."
"Quiet, criminal scum!" the little boy hollered, then stumbled. That got a few giggles from our guards until Annabeth turned her head and all was silent.
"Gregory," she groaned.
"Yes, commander!" The little boy gave her a salute.
She rolled her eyes and looked forward.
"You’re gonna get it now, prisoner," the boy muttered quietly.
I smirked at him, and the kid glared at me. Adorable, like an angry Wan-chan.
We crossed the hills, and I saw the view. In the valley were marble buildings, fountains, statues, strawberry fields, and a great forest. The sun was peeking over the mountains, casting golden light on the water. The greenery was so pure, I could smell nature in the air. This place was saturated with so much mana it felt like I’d entered the Age of the Gods. Then I felt it in the air—I looked up and saw two campers riding winged horses. They waved at Annabeth before diving down into the valley.
"Keep moving!" the little boy snapped, giving me a shove. Ok, he's starting to irritate me a bit.
As we walked down, we received stares from the other campers engaged in sword fighting, archery, sculpting, theater, arts and crafts, smithing—and I think I even saw a rock climbing wall with lava. It was jarring to see kids making friendship bracelets while practicing how to stab a man. What was this camp for? Grover hadn’t given many details; I had thought it was some kind of cult. Now, it seemed more like a living museum where you could learn how to kick butt and start a fire. Grover had seriously undersold this place. Under different circumstances, I might have actually liked it here.
“This way,” Annabeth announced, leading us to an old house up on a hill. We all stopped in front of it. I wasn’t sure what I should be looking at; it seemed homely, I guess, but not particularly interesting compared to the marble columns and the amphitheater. A lot of stragglers were looking at us, keeping their distance, mostly pointing at Tyson, with some glancing at Rachel.
"What are we doing?" I asked.
"Quiet. You're the one who requested xenia," Annabeth replied.
Rachel stepped forward, having been the one to invoke that word. Right after I caught the arrow, she said, ‘I declare xenia,’ and added, ‘By the old laws, take me to the master.’ Then, regrettably, she ordered us not to resist.
The front door opened, and I was surprised by who I saw.
"Mr. Brunner!?"
"Percy?" He wheeled onto the front patio, his eyes genuinely surprised. He looked the same as he did at Yancy, with his professor's coat and wheelchair. Out of all the teachers there, he was the only one I actually liked.
"Annabeth? Grover?” He looked side to side, then his eyes stopped on Tyson. “What's going on?"
"They invoked the right of xenia," she answered coldly.
"Xenia? That hasn’t been done since—" Mr. Brunner began, but Rachel stepped forward, causing the guards to react. Mr. Brunner gestured for them to stop.
" Teacher of Heroes, " Rachel said. Her words were barely understandable, spoken in an ancient language that sounded like heavily accented English to my ears. Was the grail translating for me?
" You speak the old tongue? Impressive. I thought the language was long lost in today's modern world, " Mr. Brunner replied, using the same ancient words. Annabeth winced, like she was listening to bad music.
" You honor me, great teacher. But it isn’t you I seek. By guest right, I wish to give gifts to my host. " She bowed to him, a mechanical swing that spoke of years of practice.
The door opened again. Who came out was a man in a leopard print shirt, he had black scruffy hair and a beard. Diet coke in hand, he smelled like grapes and alcohol, in other words, a drifter. He wouldn’t look too out of place as one of Gabe’s poker buddies.
“What is this time Annie Bell? Why is everyone on my front lawn? Who are these people?” He slurred his voice, all with the grace of a man in a hangover. Grover immediately cowered, whispering silent prayers.
Rachel promptly walked toward the man, bowing down until her head touched the wood. " Great Liberator, Lord of the Festival, Patron of the Theatre. I invoke the right of xenia. "
They stared at her. We all did. The man took a long sip of his coke, burped, and then licked his lips.
"Hmmm. Going old school, eh? Tell me, little girl, why shouldn’t I turn you and all your friends into dolphins for daring to break in here?" His eyes moved from Tyson to me, and he sneered.
" I offer a gift. " She knelt down and opened her box. The inside was covered in straw. From it, she pulled out a vintage bottle that encompassed both her arms. A large black bottle covered in gold leaf with German words embedded in the glass.
" The Light of Germanica. I procured it, hidden from sight for years within a cave-in. Only a year ago was it excavated, perfectly sealed and fermented. Circa 1654. " She held the bottle out to him, her head bowed.
The man carefully picked it up, inspected the liquid within, and sniffed. He grinned from ear to ear. "Acceptable. I agree via the terms of xenia. Release them, they are our guests." He waved the guards to back off. Most looked confused, arrows still drawn toward Tyson.
"Mr. D, I found—"
"Did I stutter, Annie get your gun? Go on, shoo!"
"But the monster—"
"Do you want to break guest-right? Do you want to stain my name!?" His voice was deep, and I could feel the threat. Just looking at the guy sent shivers down my spine, growing stronger the more I looked at him. I was starting to get the picture of who he was, or what he was. My body stiffened.
“No, sir,” she said, biting her lip. “Cabin six, move out!”
All our guards sheathed their weapons, most casting worried glances at Tyson before walking away.
"You got lucky, punk!" the little boy muttered, shaking his fist before scurrying off.
"Annabeth," Grover called, reaching out to her, but she shot him a look that froze him in his tracks. She stared at him, then at Tyson, and then calmly walked to catch up with her group. I had never seen Grover look so devastated.
“I’m sorry…” Grover called after her, but I didn’t think she’d listen.
“Are you alright, dude?”
“I don’t know anymore, Percy.” Grover slowly shook his head.
“It’s okay, man.” I patted his back. “There are plenty of fish in the sea.” He gave me the same look he did in the candy store. Was it something I said?
“Percy,” Mr. Brunner thankfully saved me from that fiasco. “I’m surprised to see you here. I knew you would come eventually, but after a few weeks, I started to lose hope.”
“Mr. Brunner! Is this your summer job?”
“In a way.” He tipped his head, then looked at Grover. The goat boy couldn’t meet his eyes. “This isn’t an ordinary arrival, is it? Come, tell me inside.” He gestured us to the door. Rachel entered first, followed by Tyson, who happily marched right in. I was about to cross over before the drifter stopped me.
“And who are you?” His slurs stopped, and he was finally clear.
I had to be careful. Fighting his kind was always a pain.
“I’m, ah... Archer.” Grover winced when I said that. The man’s eyes widened, his watery eyes looking bloodshot.
“Ha, ha!” Grover laughed nervously. “A joker, this one.” He nudged my shoulders.
The man pouted his lips. “Very well, sword.” He hummed, cradling his bottle like a baby, then disappeared in a puff of smoke. It smelled like... something I’d like to forget. His kind loved their dramatic exits.
“That was reckless, Percy,” Grover growled. “He was a—”
“Yeah, I know.” I waved him off as I entered the room. It was homely, like a log cabin. A fur rug, a fireplace, bookshelves, a leopard bust. In the middle were Rachel and Tyson making themselves at home on the couch. The girl was rubbing the boy’s back, telling him how brave he was. Tyson wobbly smiled.
“Does anyone want tea?” Mr. Brunner rolled over to a tray, pouring steaming water into a cup.
“We’ll take two,” Rachel nodded.
“Tea!” Tyson cheered happily, placing his heavy load on the floor. I did the same, then slouched on the couch.
“No thanks,” I held up my hand.
“Pity, this is my own special blend.” Mr. Brunner took the tray and wheeled it over to the others. Tyson immediately gulped it down. I wondered how he wasn’t burning his throat.
“More!”
“Tyson,” Rachel whispered while blowing on her tea.
“Oh. Um, more please?”
“How polite. I haven’t seen a cyclops with manners in decades.” Mr. Brunner poured him another glass. This time, though, Tyson mimicked Rachel, matching her posture and finger width. It’s so easy to forget she’s a rich girl.
“Chiron,” Grover said, marching forward and seating himself next to me. “I’ve messed up.”
“It happens to the best of us. Give her time.”
“Yes… Wait, uh, no! Chiron! Something really bad is happening!” Finally, we were getting to the meat of it. I wasn’t surprised to see Mr. Brunner here; I always sensed something weird about him, just like with Grover. While it was nice to see him again, we did come here on a mission.
“There’s this guy! Caster! He’s summoning monsters and kidnapping people! He’s going to destroy a city! We have to do something! Call the gods and—”
“Grover, Grover. Please calm yourself,” Mr. Brunner said in his friendly voice, the same one he used every time I got into trouble at Yancy. It took a moment for Grover to quiet down.
“I’m sorry. It’s just, in that vision I thought I saw…” He whimpered while looking at me.
“Vision?”
“Allow me to explain.” Rachel spoke up and all our eyes turned towards her. The tea was held in her hands, her face blank.
"Sorry young lady, but I haven’t had the pleasure of your name?” Mr. Brunner spoke to her like she was one of his students.
“Rachel Elizabeth Dare. And this is my companion, Tyson,” she gestured towards the boy.
“Ah, no wonder you look so familiar. I know your father quite well,” Mr. Brunner remarked, glancing back at a landscape painting.
“We both had that displeasure. But destroying the world isn’t what I’m trying to accomplish,” Rachel said, her eyes level with the man. “We seek someone special in this camp. A great evil stirs in the West, wielding powers we cannot hope to defeat alone.”
“An evil, you say?” Mr. Brunner raised a brow.
I gave Rachel a look, silently questioning how much we could reveal about the Grail War. She wasn’t looking.
“How could anyone who uses innocence be anything but?” Rachel sipped her tea. “I’ve come to rectify that. It is the will of Atlas.” The atmosphere shifted.
“Atlas?”
“The organization I come from. We’ve worked tirelessly toward one goal: the salvation of mankind. To prevent disasters from harming the human race.”
“And this evil will destroy humanity?”
“He might… He has committed taboos, taking corpses and kidnapping civilians.” Rachel's eyes reflected a faint purple glow within the green, glancing at Mr. Brunner's intense browns. The man frowned.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot allow an unknown sorceress to wander the campgrounds,” Mr. Brunner shook his head, but Rachel didn’t relent.
“Please, Teacher of Heroes.”
“I cannot let—”
“Alright, this is stupid,” I stood up, and they both looked at me. “Stop dancing around and tell him what's going on.”
“Saber…”
“Mr. Brunner, we’re fighting a rogue mage who doesn’t care about human lives. He is currently gathering an army of monsters and is fully prepared to kill and slaughter anyone who gets in his way.” The room fell silent.
“That girl,” I pointed at Rachel, “can see the future. She said there was someone here who could help us. I was already attacked by one of his minions yesterday. That huge terrorist attack in New York? That was us fighting for our lives. And more will come unless we stop him.” I spoke with as much conviction as I could, making myself the loudest in the room.
Everything was quiet for a second.
“I… I… What Saber said is everything. You know the heart of it now,” Rachel said with a hint of emotion.
“I understand. I believe him,” Mr. Brunner replied, his eyes wandering towards her. “But not you. You're hiding something… And until I know, I can’t let you move around camp. Guest-right or not, I won’t put my charges at risk.”
Hiding what? Rachel looked a little guilty. Maybe it was true? But what could she possibly gain? Wait, I forgot. She is a magus.
I was about to speak when Rachel cut me off.
“Fine,” her voice was clear, reminiscent of that snarky girl I first met on the streets. “I’ll tell you.”
We all fell silent, and Mr. Brunner gestured for her to continue.
“I’m not human. I’m a homunculus created by the Atlas Institute. Part of an experiment to see if humankind could exist separate from nature. I am a doll created by humans to simulate humanity, yet could never truly be one. But then… it happened. I was merged with this character,” she touched her heart.
What?
“I finally achieved the professor's dream. I could finally feel, to be real, even if… But the merger wasn’t perfect. It was too rushed, and my core is incompatible with this data. In a few months, there will be too many errors, and I will cease to be. That’s why, when I divined this camp, I discovered the oracle. I came here in the hopes that I could also assimilate the oracle’s data and reinforce myself with it.”
“Wait, you were using me?” I blurted out.
“We used each other, Saber. I still vowed to help you. And I also wished to keep my humanity. Ephemeral as it is,” Rachel replied calmly.
Huh, not the first time I’ve been used before. At least it’s not as scathing as the last one. I could understand that, I think?
“You want to assimilate? With the oracle?” Mr. Brunner repeated, trying to grasp the situation.
“Indeed,” Rachel affirmed.
“You… Want to become the oracle?”
“From a certain point of view. Yes.”
“I, ah. I see. Well, we haven’t had a living oracle in quite some time,” Mr. Brunner rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I guess I can work something out, if you agree to a few terms. Though I must warn you, there are dangers—”
“Than losing my humanity? Madness, the future? That's nothing when I’m connected to Hermes ,” Rachel interrupted. Mr. Brunner straightened up at her words.
“Wait, what about Caster?” Grover spoke out. “Are we still doing something about him?”
“Oh, that. Who exactly are you looking for?” Mr. Brunner directed his question to Rachel.
“I’m glad we have an accord. We’re…” Rachel froze suddenly, like a living picture. Tyson stopped drinking his tea, and Mr. Brunner wheeled up to her, checking her pulse.
“What’s going on? Is she doing that star thing again?” Grover yelped.
She wavered, then collapsed into Mr. Brunner’s arms. He held her up, trying to stabilize her as she gasped for breath.
“The stars have shifted. The omen. Something terrible is about to happen! Death! I see death!” She couldn’t control her volume, her arms flailing. It wasn’t until Tyson held her hand that she began to calm down.
“Death… From the skies! It’ll be here any second!” The purple in her eyes was never this bright.
“Ms. Dare, please, you must calm down,” Mr. Brunner urged.
“You must evacuate everyone! Run! He comes!” She shrieked, her voice echoing through the house. I thought I saw the flames flicker in the fireplace.
“Who is it!?” I moved closer. “Is it Caster!?”
“No. It’s–He's here…”
Then a thunderbolt echoed through the house, followed by the sound of breaking glass. It felt like an earthquake as bookshelves, lamps, and everything not bolted down fell to the floor. Windows and mirrors shattered, a painting broke, and the fire was snuffed out. All the lights flickered off, leaving us in darkness. But outside, it should be midday, last I checked there wasn’t a cloud in the sky?
Then I sensed it. I looked toward the door and summoned my sword. A flicker of green danced in the air as I bolted out. The wind pushed the door wide open. I stopped to look at the sky, now covered in dark clouds. Red lightning danced in the air, and at the edges, I could see the bounded field crack and break. An ominous wind brushed the trees, nature itself screaming. The valley turned dark, shadows covering everything, with the greenery dying at a rapid rate.
A single step, yet it sounded like the world was breaking. My eyes flashed toward the culprit.
A man in black, slowly walking toward us. As he approached the lawn, the grass withered and died with each step. 'Big' was the only word I could think to describe him—not a giant, but human-sized, the pinnacle of what a human could be without becoming monstrous. Yet monstrous he was: red skin, a malevolent aura, and the worst part was just the sight of him. Looking at the man gave me migraines, and I couldn't keep my eyes on him for more than a second before breaking away.
“Percy! Wait—” Mr. Brunner called, rolling to the patio. His voice faltered as he took in the sight before us.
The man's head was shrouded by a long fur cloak secured with chains, yet he could see just fine; I could tell, his gaze was fixed on me.
“Percy’s what–Ah….” Grover’s tone slowly pitched. “Who are–”
“ Where... is... it? ” His voice was deep, carrying an authority that could make the world kneel before him.
Huh?
“ Where is the master bolt…. ” He snarled.