Vial of Spirits - Chapter One

Chapter One 

Thalia

I sincerely wished that I never went into the Civil War. Actually, blast that: I wished that I never even went to the five different periods in the past in the first place. I could have avoided a quest that would have decided whether or not Western civilization would have been demolished. I could have avoided travelling with my two insufferable (okay, maybe not that bad, but they were really annoying) cousins, Percy Jackson and Nico Di Angelo. And most of all, I could’ve avoided spending time in a “little” reunion with somebody that I thought had disappeared from the face of the earth years ago.

Now, I don’t believe in those superstitions about the number “thirteen” and stuff like that. Thirteen’s a nice number. What has it ever done to harm anyone?

Add the number “thirteen” to the day “Friday” and you get: Friday the thirteenth. It is considered an unlucky day by a number of people. But I told you, I don’t believe in superstitions.

So yes, it was a nice Friday the thirteenth. Although at least half of the Hunters were nervously glancing at the small, scraggly bushes that encircled our camp as if they expected the innocent dead plants to eat them alive and starting at the slightest sound, I restrained myself from telling them for the zillionth time that the bushes would not sprout into human-eating skeleton bushes that would gobble them up. Plants aren’t carnivores. We’re not living in the world of Little Red Riding Hood.

Artemis doesn’t appreciate boys seeing our camp. Like, she really, really doesn’t appreciate it. You know, the I-will-turn-you-into-a-jackolope-if-you-see-even-a-smidgen-of-us appreciate it. Most of the other Hunters—with the exception of me—would do the exact same thing to a boy if they could. So of course, Nico dropping straight into the middle of the camp wasn’t exactly received really well.

I was outside my tent, slowly and dutifully skinning and gutting a deer—not my favorite thing to do in my pastime—when I heard the loud plop. It’s rather hard to miss at least a dozen pairs of arrows pointed at you, even when you are gasping for breath. And yes, unfortunately, I speak from experience.

I climbed to my feet, abandoning the half-prepared deer for later. Turning around, I saw a boy in a black aviator’s jacket scrabbling at the slippery ground, attempting to get a foothold. He was failing miserably, as the precise spot at where he was grabbing at was the only place where it was wet and moist in this area.

Muttering obscenities under my breath, I made my way to the clump of Hunters. I pushed passed all of them, squatted down to survey Nico’s mud-streaked face, and asked, “Would you like some epic with that fail?”

“Yes,” he said impatiently. “Or no, I don’t really care; will you help me get up?”

Chuckling, I grabbed his hand and tugged. The mud made a sucking sound and Nico popped out of it, his backside dripping with the sticky brown stuff. “You really do need a shower,” I marveled.

“Yes, state the obvious, will you?”

I would’ve retorted had not Phoebe intervened. “Why are you here?”

I know, wasn’t that so nice of her? But then again, as I mentioned before, all the other Hunters don’t receive boys as nearly as well as I do.

Nico started to shake himself, and then thought the better of it, seeing the look on my face. “What do you think I am? A fortune teller that stares into magical glass balls filled with fog?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Phoebe waited.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Nico sighed. “I came to pick up Thalia.”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“You what?” Phoebe asked disbelievingly. “You can’t just take—”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“Well, how am I supposed to know why the gods needed her?” Nico snapped. “Percy and the other Olympians are getting restless, and Ares is polishing and sharpening his knife. I don’t think that that’s a good thing.”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">After five minutes of heated arguing—I had to intervene a lot so that Nico and Phoebe didn’t slice off the other’s head (it included many electric shocks)—Nico won the disagreement and said, “Have I ever taken you shadow-traveling?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“No,” I said, feeling rather queasy. “Were you supposed to have?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Nico simply said, “Hold on and don’t let go unless you want a part of your body to be left behind in the realm of Shadows.”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I uncertainly clasped his shoulder. Nico paused in front of a tree that cast a large shadow in the mid-day sun. He just stood there.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“Are we going or not?” I snapped, my ADHD getting better of me. Didn’t Nico have it as well?

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“Shh!” he hissed. “I need my concentration.”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Maybe not.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">A minute later, he abruptly stared running and ran straight for the tree.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Just when I was sure that we would hit the bark and get a permanent tree scar on our faces, we hit the shadows as cold as the dark side of Mercury.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">--- <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">A second later, I collapsed into the throne room of the Olympians, effectively getting a bloody nose.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Nico stumbled to a halt next to me, rubbing his eyes. He gave an enormous yawn. “I got her. Can I go to sleep now?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Without waiting for an answer, he curled up on the marble floor of the throne room and closed his eyes.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Percy shot to his feet. “Hi, Thals!” he cheerfully said.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Through gritted teeth, I said, “For the billionth time, don’t call me ‘Thals’ or ‘Pinecone Face’!”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“Okay, Pinecone Face,” Percy said promptly. “Long time no see, huh?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I rolled my eyes. “What d’you want?”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Percy’s bright smile faded. He gestured to the Olympians. “Let your dad explain to you.”