The Defenders of Camp Half-Blood: The Key of Eternity

 I become one with the Black Canary 

 Chapter I 

My name is Vira Miroslav and I am a half-blood. My father moved from here Russia when he was a young man. He sought out for a better college education and he found it in New York City. He went to school at New York University graduating with his MFA in Creative Writing and in that very class he met my mother. He still raves about her beauty, wit and mostly her mystic, but he only mentions it on birthday (when the evil step mom is MIA). That's what he admired most about her, the wonder that followed her like a cloak. He tells me stories about her every time my birthday rolls around; that's the only time my evil step mom, Elaina, allows the topic. He tells me about how she charmed him with her ageless beauty and dark mystery; how when they dated (though it was brief) he thought every moment was a chapter from a fairy tale. He loved her endlessly, but she had to leave. About nine months later he saw her again, with me. Every year on my birthday he tells me the same story. She gave me to him and told him to take care of me. She cried and kissed my forehead and then was gone.

My father took great care of me and on my third birthday his first book was published; a book based on my parents short romance. It was wildly popular for years and ever since my father has kept writing, making that book into a series. I’ve been on more book tours with him than you can count on your hands and feet. I haven't read the books, but by the sound of it I believe he's living out his life with my mom through them. His fans love it, but I don’t; it scares me. I’m afraid my father is crazy; he spends most of his life cooped up in his office writing away, and it’s been that way ever since I can remember. In the twelve years of my life with him he hadn't spoken my mother's name once; I don't even know it. Her name in his book is Katie, but I know that’s not her real name.

When I was seven he started dating his publicist and six months later they were married. I don't believe he loves Elaina, at least not half as much as he loved my mom. At age twelve, after my father, Elaina, and her two daughters, Naomi and Dakota, and I just moved into a house in Massachusetts, I ran away. I didn’t run because my dad ignored me, though that still hurt; I ran because of Elaina and my evil step-sisters. I was sick of being belittled, of being bullied because I was different. It wasn’t enough that I’m dyslexic and have a mild case of ADHD, but I see weird things, hear weird things, and everywhere I go something bad happens. I knew there was something divergent about me, and on my fourteenth birthday I decided my step-mother and step-sisters were right; I didn’t belong in the family, I was a hazard to my father’s life. So I ran.

After a year of running completely on foot I found myself back home, New York City. I fought these monsters that seemed to come out of every corner on the way, and it only got worse in NYC. I ended up running away from there too, which broke my heart just as much as when I left my dad. It was hard to leave the place I was raised in for a second time; my city, but I managed.

I found myself in Connecticut a few weeks later. I was scared and tired and hadn’t the slightest clue where I was going. That’s where I met a boy, a boy just like me. We ran into each other and within seconds he knew who I was, or more like what I was. He sat me down and talked to me. He told me I was a demigoddess, a child of the Ancient Greek gods; he told me he knew because he was a half-blood too. He told me there was a safe place for kids like us; Camp Half-Blood. He pointed me in the direction to go, but when I asked him to come with me he refused. He said the camp had no place for demigods like him. When I asked him what kind of demigod he was he just turned away and said goodbye. I remember there was this look in his eyes; like he was scared himself, like he was fighting something… something within. I followed his directions and within a few months I turned up at the entrance of Camp Half-Blood bloodied, dirty and tired.

…

Chiron nods as I finish my life story. He’s back in his wheelchair, even though I know everything, well almost everything. I sip my hot cocoa and tug the blanket around my shoulders tighter. It’s the middle of summer, but I was shivering and needed something familiar. I was all washed up and in new clothes, but still in need of a good bandage. I shift my weight in the chair and cringe. Ok, scratch that last bit; a lot of big bandages and Neosporin. Chiron’s eyebrows scrunch up. “That was quite an entrance there Miss Miroslav; three hellhounds and a rogue Cyclops.”

I take another sip of my cocoa while still avoiding his brown eyes. They’re unsettling; how old and sad they appear, like he’s seen a lot, which I believe he has. “I do my best.”

He hums. “I assume I don’t have to show you the introduction video.”

“NO,” I say a little too fast. I clear my throat and set down my mug with shaking hands. “No sir, that’s not needed. I know enough already.”

“And you’re not going to tell me about the boy you met in Connecticut?”

“No sir, I promised not to."

“Promises are meant to be broken,” he says casually.

This time I look into his eyes, ignoring my curiosity to try and calculate how old they really are even though I can’t really see them correctly though my sunglasses. “Not my promises sir,” I says steadily.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">A smile plays on his lips. “Loyalty is great quality,” his smile disappears, “but it can also be a flaw.” I nod curtly in understanding. “I trust you’ll be careful to whom your loyalty lies, Miss Miroslav.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“I’m very careful sir.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">His face softens. “Call me Chiron.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Ok Chiron, but only if you call me Vira,” I say with a slight smile.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">He returns the smile with a larger one of his own easing my edginess. “If things go the way I suspect then there may be another name I’ll call you.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“And what is that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">His grin turns crooked. “One day, you’ll see.”

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;">…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">The breeze shifting in the evening air chills my bones. Even though I’m sitting in the front row the heat from the campfire can’t seem to be warm enough. Lead by the Apollo cabin, the other campers sing corny songs I don’t recognize, but Chiron assures me that I’ll soon learn them. I rub my shoulders, trying to get rid of the goose bumps. I watch as the campfire grows higher and changes colors as the campers sing. Then I notice a little girl, much younger than me, sitting in front of the fire, poking it. I look up at Chiron. “Can I go sit with her?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Who my dear?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I point to the little girl by the fire. “Her. She seems lonely sitting there all by herself.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Chiron seems astonished. “You want to sit with her?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Confused by his expression I reply, “Yes please. If that’s ok.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“No no, that’s perfectly fine my dear, just don’t sit too close to the fire.” He seems a thousand miles away; like the way my father used to say I am whenever I’m in the middle of reading.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Ok,” I say wearily and get up from my seat. I can feel eyes staring holes into my back, but I ignore it. I sit Indian-style slightly behind the young girl. “Hello.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">The little girl jumps and looks back at me with big eyes. Her eyes are golden and seem to flicker like the flames of the campfire. “Hello,” she says back.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I smile friendlily at her. “My name’s Vira.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">The little girl throws the stick she was using to poke the hearth with into the flames and scooted back to sit beside me. She flicks her long brown braid over her shoulder and looks up at me. “Mine’s Hestia.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Ok I’ll admit I was shocked. Really shocked actually. “You’re the goddess Hestia?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">She nods. “Goddess of the hearth and home; the last Olympian.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I have no idea what the last bit was about, but I leave it go. “You’re so young.” I didn’t mean to say it, but it just sort of slipped out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“I can take any shape I wish and I prefer this shape.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Like Peter Pan; he prefers to be a kid over an adult.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes, I suppose I am a bit like Peter Pan.” I can tell she’s trying to hold back a smile.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“You’re the first goddess I’ve ever met.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“You’re one of the very few demigods to come and sit with me at this camp.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Really? Why’s that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Some don’t notice me, and some don’t pay attention.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I frown. “That’s sad. But there are so any kids here, you would think one of them would see a lonely girl by the fire.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Oh I’m not here all the time, I have to keep the fire going on Mount Olympus. Only on special occasions, like when a new camper arrives.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Aren’t you lonely?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">She shrugs. “Sometimes, yes. I suppose I do get lonely, but there are two boys that I do sit with me,” she seems crestfallen all of a sudden, “but they’re not here.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Where are they?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“They’ve both been kidnapped.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“What?! Does anyone else know? Shouldn’t we go help them?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Oh don’t worry, Vira. A search party has already left; they left today in fact, a few minutes before you arrived, on a flying ship.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“How did I miss that?” It almost seems a bit funny I didn’t see that."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“The Mist.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Oh yes, I was told about the Mist.” The Mist is a sort of magic that alters the human vision so that they see false pretentions of the Greek Mythology world; they see their own non-magical and mythical world as we demigods see the reality. I don’t know how else to put it to be honest. “It must have been powerful.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Very.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">We sit in silence for a while and listen to the campers sing. After a few songs I speak up. “Hey Hestia?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Who are the two boys? That sat with you?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Nico Di Angelo and,” she looks up at me with her eyes aglow, “Percy Jackson.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Vira! Please come over here so I can introduce you to the rest of the camp.” I look back and see Chiron, hooves and all, standing in front of the whole camp waving for me to join him. When did they stop singing?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“Bye Hestia, I’ll talk to you soon.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">She smiles up at me as I stand up, brushing woodchips off my butt. “Until then Vira Miroslav.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I return the smile as I walk over the Chiron.<span style="line-height: 200%; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Chiron shifts his weight, his hooves making the woodchips beneath him press into the earth. I fix my sunglasses as I walk to his side. He smiles reassuringly at me before looking at the campers. I can hear whispers among the kids. "Young demigods! May I introduce Vira Miroslav."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Undetermined?" asks a camper.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Undetermined," confirms Chiron. I understand what he means, I haven't been claimed by my mother, who ever she is.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">A few sighs. "Well she has to be powerful," pipes a girl. She stands up and flicks her dark hair over her shoulder. She's a pretty girl with Asian features and perfect hair. "I mean four monsters chasing her? She's probably a child of the Big Three!"

''The Big Three? Ok, I don't know that one.''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"No way! She lived with her father." How did they… you know what, I don’t want to know. "Besides, there's too many Big Three kids as there is! Sit down Drew," says someone to the right.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Drew shoots the right side a dirty look and someone sitting near her grabs her camp shirt and tugs her back into her seat. A young girl in Drew's section stands up. She tugs at one of her light pigtails and smiles at me flashing her metal braces. "I think she's an Aphrodite girl. She's pretty enough!" I blush and hope no one can see it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"I don't know," says a boy in the front of the left side. Sitting next to him is his double. Twins maybe? "She seems like a Hermes kind of girl."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"I think Athena suits her," says a boy in the group beside the twins' group. I fix my sunglasses uneasily; I never like being the center of attention.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Ok ok, enough of your guessing," says Chiron. "We'll see soon enough." He looks down at me. "You'll spend the night in the Big House tonight, ok?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Ok, as long as you make me some more of that hot cocoa. It was good."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Chiron smiles and ruffles my curly hair. "As you wish." I smile back. "Why don't you go sit with our oracle." He looks back at the campers. "Rachel, wave your hand so Vira knows who you are." A girl with as crazy curly hair as me waves her hand at me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Chiron gives me a little push and I walk over to Rachel. She smiles kindly at me as I sit beside her. "Hi! My name's Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I'm the oracle." She sticks her hand out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I smile back and take her hand. "I'm Vira Aradia Miroslav; undetermined."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Oh don't worry about that, your parent will claim you soon." Something about her makes me believe her. "You're defiantly over thirteen," she's thinking aloud now. "Are you by any chance fifteen yet?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I ask her the date and she tells me. I sigh heavily. "I'll be sixteen tomorrow."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Sixteen?! Oh wow, your mom's pushing it."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">I shrug. "If you think she'll claim me soon, than I don't mind."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"And why's that?" She seems intrigued.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Because I trust you." I sneak a quick smile at her before looking back down at my fiddling hands.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Rachel Elizabeth Dare bumps my shoulder. I look up and see her grinning at me. "I have a feeling you're going to be very popular around here."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Really?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">She nods, her red curls bouncing. "You've already made a friend in me." I smile. I've made a friend! I've never been good at making friends. People always saw me as different and because of that I was an outcast, but here I don't feel different; here I feel like I belong. "Plus you remind me of a friend." A sad smile (yes that's possible) forms on her face.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Who?" ''Crap! I mentally smack myself in the forehead. There goes my usual word vomit. I should really just keep my big mouth shut.''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">She looks at me, her green eyes swimming with tears. I instantly regret saying anything at all. She tries to smile, but it just doesn't work. "Percy Jackson."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Strike two.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;">...

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;">"I need you." The sweet voice came from nowhere. All I see is black. "I need your help."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">"Who's there?" I call out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">“I need your help, moya dochʹ.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">Moya dochʹ?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;">An image begins to emerge like a Polaroid photo developing. A stunning key, vintage and sparkling with shards of ruby mixed with the gold, sits in a metal bird cage. I can't guess the size if the key, but I imagine it’s small. "Find the key moya dochʹ.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The images no longer sho''w themselves to me slowly, but pop like the flashing of a paparazzi's camera. I do my best to depict the parts, but it's difficult. I catch green smoke, a beautiful woman's smile, a dagger, more snakes, a really angry dude with fire eyes, and then two symbols; an owl and a lyre. The images disappear with the frightening closing of a massive door with disturbing scenes of death and torture sculpted into the surface.''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Right before the door closes I wake up with a start. Chiron stands above my head, his dark eyebrows pushed together. "You aren't sleeping well Vira."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I sit up and wipe my sweaty forehead. "Hellhounds. Those beasts scare me." I'm a terrible liar, but hopefully he can't tell in the super early morning light... nope, I lied, it's a lamp.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"I see." Chiron's hooves clop lightly on the wood floor. "Well is that's all I'll let you get back to bed." He narrows his eyes ever so slightly like he knows I had a strange dream and he's waiting for me to spill.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Ok," I yawn as I rub my eyes for effect.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He nods slowly and walks out of the room. I pull my sheets up over my head and curl onto my side. There's no way I'm going back to sleep after a dream like that.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yeah, that's what I thought until about half an hour later when I zonked out again.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">...

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A hand smacks down on my face. This time I know I’m not dreaming. My eyes snap open and I scream into the hand, but it’s muffled greatly against its meatiness. More hands grab me and wrestle me out of bed. I look around wildly but it’s too dark to see anything. I scream and yell, but I barely make sound and after a few times I’m struggling for breath because the person’s hand is partially covering my nose too. I kick and squirm as they lift me by my armpits and legs and carry me out of my room. Hear few hushes and shuffling feet. “Go go go," hisses a voice by the door of the Big House. Only two people have to lug me out of the Big House and to the cabin area. A big posy of kids follow laughing as quietly as they can and jumping up and down in excitement. I don’t like the sights of that. I try to kick the person holding my legs, but I either miss or they don’t seem to be bothered by it. Who are these people?!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The meaty hand is still around my mouth as they clutch my back to them to keep me quiet. I try elbowing the person but they don’t even flinch. “Oh don’t act like that newbie,” says a rough girl’s voice. “We’re just welcoming you to camp, that’s all.” ''A camper? ''I have no idea why a camper would be doing this in the middle of the night, but whatever it is it can’t be good. I jerk again, but still no result. These campers have grips like a vise for sure.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oh boy <span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, I think as I know what to do now. I swallow what’s left my pride and bite. I bite the girl’s hand. She yanks her hand away from my mouth and I tip to the side. She hooks her arm back under my armpit pulling me up again and curses under her breath. That’s when I do it. I tuck my body together quickly. The two campers carrying me jerk forward and smack foreheads. I can openly admit that I don’t feel the slightest bit bad for their newly dead brain cells. They cry out in pain and drop me on the ground. Now I scream and this time my scream can be heard… across the camp and probably all the way to New York City.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As a little girl my dad, and later Elaina too, did their best not to anger me. I always thought it was because my dad just didn’t like it when I was angry and Elaina was scared to anger me because of my “mental issues”, but now I know that’s a lie.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For a moment there I was seriously considering the Black Canary as my mother. My scream (if you can even call it that) was almost like a shockwave. My kidnappers are thrown through the air and landed yards away from me on their backs. Red sparks popped around me like sparklers. The earth shook beneath me and the night sky rattled with the burst of sound. And worst of all, if I had had my sunglasses on, I’m pretty sure my eyes would have melted them right through. Don’t ask how I know, it just would. It started so fast and by the time I noticed its monstrosity it was too late. Campers where running across the lawn with a strange mix of armor and pajamas, and they were all looking at me; the epicenter of my own little disaster. The kids from the Ares cabin (yes I figured out they were Ares kids, wasn’t that hard to find out) were stirring and others approach slowly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One girl with a red bandanna sits up and glares at me. “What the…” Her voice trails off and her eyes widen. My heart skips a beat. I swivel around and see that I’m encircled. Campers formed a large circle around me, keeping their distance with the tips of their weapons pointing towards me. I start hyperventilating. ''What’s happening?! ''Then a green aura erupts around me. It feels like a warm summer breeze washing around me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Her eyes!” says a boy with his helmet on crooked. His hair is disheveled and is breastplate hangs off one shoulder. He knocks his helmet off and looks at me in incredulous, his gray eyes wide and calculating. What are you?” My breath catches. What am I? I’ve been asking that question my entire life. <span style="line-height: 200%; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A wave of nostalgia hits me and make me dizzy. I hear Elaina yelling at me and my stepsisters joining in to. I hear the same sentence over and over again in my head. ''You're a danger to us all, you freak! ''I hold my head and squeeze my eyes shut. Go away, I scream to the voices in my head.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Everything in my sight is a blur when I open my eyes. I hear Chiron yelling at the campers to move away, but none of them listen as I collapse. The last thing I see before I pass out is the boy with gray eyes over me and a glowing green symbol above my head.