Let's Play: Monsters and Demigods

“Is that for me?” Geoff asked, a little surprised. He knew Gavin had his own supply, being a healer or something.

“You seem really accident-prone, so yes.” He said, shoving the bag into Geoff’s hands. “Remember, only a little bit at a time. Too much could kill you.” Burnie paused, still holding onto an edge of the ambrosia. “You are the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met, but there has been something up with you since Capture the Flag. You’ve gotten too quiet.”

Geoff wrangled the bag out of Burnie’s grasp. “I’m fine.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

For a moment, he seriously debated telling Burnie about the lightning, him and Jack’s near-death experience. It was so tempting that Geoff’s lips tingling from holding it in. That was when he noticed Burnie’s gaze flicker toward his arm. “Your scars are gone.” He pointed, a look of confusion passing over his face.

At the same time, Ryan called out from the window. “Come on Geoff, we are never getting out of here without you!”

Knowing that this was his only chance to avoid the inevitable questions, Geoff waved quickly to Burnie. “I have to go.” He turned quickly toward the van, ignoring Burnie calling behind him. For now, Geoff did not have an explanation that he completely understood. Maybe he could hope that after this quest, he would have all the answers he desperately needed.

Geoff reclined in the passenger’s seat, his arms folded across his chest and stared out the window. Normally, with a seat so far back, it had to be annoying someone, but thankfully Michael had stopped giving a shit when he had fallen asleep with his cheek pressed against the window.

Ryan happened to be the most boring driver ever. He obeyed the speed limit, stopped at every light, and took the roads Geoff read off the map without argument. Despite his rather psychopathic reputation on camp, Ryan didn’t deviate much from his orders. So much for being the son of a godly criminal. “He’s the messenger of the gods.” Ryan would correct him, with the slightest grimace across his face.

The sun had gone down as Ryan pulled onto the side of a dirt road caught somewhere between the emptiness of nowhere and civilization. “We’ll stop here for the night.” He muttered, parking the van without a warning to his passengers.

“You couldn’t find a gas station or something?” Ray muttered with a yawn, but Ryan just shrugged.

“It’s either this, or I run this damned van into a ditch when I fall asleep. That is, unless one of you knows how to drive.”

There were glances exchanged and then silence as no one decided to risk their lives.

Geoff threw open the door, desperate to stretch his legs. According to their map, they were close to the location of the first ring, but that was for the morning when they were rested. Who knew what they were going to be up against? There could just be a hidden room with a ring waiting for them, which would be fucking great. However, not even he was dumb enough to think that was the case. There was going to be a trial of some sort, a test maybe, if his limited knowledge of mythology served him right.

Well, not mythology. Reality.

Camp was set up swiftly as the last of the light disappeared beyond the horizon. Their little plot of land was right outside a thicket of woods that seemed to loom over them like a dog waiting for a steak.

“I think we could take on a bear,” Michael muttered under his breath as he watched the flurry of shadows that danced on the ground from the swaying branches. The Ares kid was one of the few that Geoff wasn’t familiar with, unlike the British kid.

“We could take on a bear Micool, it would be top!” The kid swung his arm across the other’s shoulders, butchering the name with his accent. Gavin had been all smiles since they had left camp, he was the only one that was unaffected by the fraying nerves they shared.

As Geoff unrolled his sleeping bag, opting to sleep under the stars, there was a hard tap on his back with something metal. Ryan stood behind him holding a flashlight out toward him and in his other hand was two more. “Take this, we’re going to do a sweep of the perimeter.” He glanced over at Michael, Gavin, and Ray who were stretched out around a meager fire Jack had started. “You three will stay here and hold the fort.”

“We can handle that, can’t we lads?” Gavin chimed in, leaning backward onto Michael’s side. Ray shot Ryan a thumbs off, and with no response from the half-asleep Michael, Ryan clicked on his flashlight.

“You take across the road, just be sure that nothing creepy is lurking. We don’t need a rude awakening in the morning.” Ryan handed the other flashlight to Jack, pointing in the opposite direction that he had given Geoff.

His boots snapped twigs as he pushed through the underbrush, wishing that he had something to whack away the branches. He did have his dagger out, a present that Jack had given him that morning. The silver blade was engraved with a thick lightning bolt. “It’s made with conductive metal,” Jack enthused when he handed over blade. “You know, son of Zeus and all, if you figure out how to control lightning it could be useful.”

The gift was only another reminder that Jack was the only person that knew. Everyone else was blissfully in the dark about his claiming, and Geoff wanted it to stay that way. It was hard to disappoint Jack, telling him that the blade would probably never be used, but that had to be the case. Ray could never know.

A gust of wind buffeted Geoff’s back, ruffling his short hair into a whirlwind mess. He swept the ground with the beam of his flashlight lazily, stifling a yawn with his other hand. The air had grown cooler in the last hour, goose bumps rising on his arms. The end of his route was near and just beyond the thicket of trees he could see the glow of the fire.

Behind him, a twig snapped, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. Geoff froze in his tracks, his fingers reaching for the hilt of the blade in his pocket. “If that’s Ryan, it’s not funny.” He hissed through clenched teeth, turning around slowly.

The person behind him was definitely not Ryan.

As Geoff shot the beam of light into his face, the man pulled a hand over his eyes, a scowl wrinkling his face. “Sorry to disappoint,” He was lean, dressed in running shorts and socks that reached his knees, and somehow still blinding white despite the darkness. His hair was dark with a sprinkle of gray on both sides of his temple. He reminded Geoff of the men that were in the old movies his mom used to watch.

Geoff drew the dagger out, pointing the end at the man. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

The man smirked, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not either.” There was a sharp gust of wind and Geoff was on the ground, a shoe buried in his back. The man stood above him, examining the snatched dagger in the limited moonlight. “A lightning bolt, how appropriate.” He commented with a chuckle. “Did Hephaestus’s son make this for you? Excellent craftsmanship, no wonder he’s his favorite.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Geoff yelled, letting his voice get progressively louder. The lads were hardly fifteen yards away. They had to hear that. Geoff tried to roll away from the crushing foot, but the man held fast. “GET THE FUCK OFF ME.” He practically screamed, eyes wildly glancing toward the campsite. Not a single pair of eyes turned to him.

The man rolled his eyes, taking his foot off him. “Calm down, they can’t hear you. I took care of that.”

Geoff climbed to his feet, wiping dirt off his face. “Who are you?” He asked, but he had started to put the puzzle pieces together. He didn’t like the answer.

“Well, I believe you know my son, Ryan.” He held out Geoff’s dagger, hilt first.

“Hermes.” Geoff’s voice was barely a whisper as he took it back, throwing it into its hilt. “What do you want with me? Why not go talk to Ryan?”

Hermes crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side as if he was examining caged animal. “This doesn’t have to do with Ryan. This has to do with you.”

“Well, spit it out then.”

“You’re the best kept secret of Olympus, Zeus has kept your existence very quiet. After his last few children were,” He paused as if looking for the right words. “Less than successful, and only upset Hera further, he kind of swore off sleeping around for a while until you.”

A blossom of pain twisted through Geoff’s palms as he realized that he was digging his fingernails into them.

“Being the messenger has its perks, and I know the truth. While the rest of Olympus is wracking its brains trying to figure out when they had produced a street hoodlum, Zeus has been trying to hide the evidence.”

His blood ran cold as ice with Hermes’ words. The harpies, the bolt of lightning. That was Zeus trying to kill him. Geoff couldn’t find any words.

“Hey, Earth to kid, look at me.”

Geoff didn’t realize he had been staring at his shoes.

“I’m doing you a huge favor, one that will probably get me in trouble, but I worry about the future if Zeus manages to put you six feet under. Children of the big three tend to have power to save or destroy, and I hate to watch that potential go to waste.” Hermes rubbed his hands together, but it wasn’t against the chill. A faint red light escaped from between his fingers. Then he offered a hand to Geoff, beneath his skin was a bright red glow. “This will buy you some time. Come on, shake.” He prompted when Geoff hesitated.

When their hands connected, there was a searing hot pain, and Geoff couldn’t pull away if he wanted. Hermes had a tight grip.

There was a strangled hiss and a column of steam when their hands were finally separated. In the dim light, Geoff could see that the inside of his hands had turned a searing red.

“You’ve been caught red-handed.” Hermes smirked. “You’re the child of a thief, enjoy it while it lasts. It won’t be long before the truth comes out, make the best out of the time you have.”

There was a sharp gust of wind, and he was gone, the leaves scattered around where he had stood. Geoff stared in a mixture of awe and horror at his hand, feeling the texture of his skin as it burned bright red. He couldn’t help but think that the Messenger of the Gods had either just saved him or royally fucked him over. Only time would tell.

<---- PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER ---->

Still no sign of Geoff.

Sometimes Ray liked to pretend that the Hermes camper’s presence annoyed him. Hell, it was his cabin and Geoff was acting like he owned the place. He would come in at some ungodly hour while Ray was attempting to sleep (playing on his technically illegal DS) and climb into a bunk that h e had claimed as his. It was an act though, the huff and puff that Ray produced as Geoff moved about noisily. He loved having the older camper around; it was a pleasant break in the loneliness.

Bumps in the night no longer were as terrifying, the nightmares had disappeared almost entirely, and it was nice to listen to something beside his breathing and the wind. Geoff was a fitful sleeper, constantly twisting and turning, and that was a comfort to Ray. At least someone was there when that inevitable something happened.

When his feet finally ached and a new blistered formed on his palm from the weight of the trident, Ray sat down on his bunk with a sigh. Geoff had failed to make an appearance and at this point, he probably wouldn’t. The door would remain unlocked for him, just in case.

Morning came too quickly. Ray woke up in a sweat, his covers thrown aside onto the floor. Geoff’s bunk was empty and Ray couldn’t remember his nightmare except for the thunder.

The ground outside was dry and hard under his hiking boots. Ray typically preferred his sandals; he could get his feet wet whenever he wanted without having damp shoes. A quest, however, isn’t the environment for sandals. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, only a blinding light blue of morning. When he emerged from the cabin, Ray could already see two shapes sprawled out on the ground near the center of the cabins.

As campers around them fanned out toward the pavilion, sparing curious glances their way, Geoff and Ryan seemed completely oblivious to them. Geoff was fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, unzipping and rezipping the main compartment, checking (probably for the thousandth time) if he had everything. Ryan was wiping down his sword in swift motions.

“How is everyone this morning?” Ray tried to sound chipper, shouldering his bag and letting his trident hang loose down at his side.

“You should probably collapse that before you poke someone in the eye, or freak out some poor mundane.” Ryan muttered, barely glancing up from his sword. Ray frowned before turning the trident over, the prongs facing him, and pulled them off one by one.

Geoff’s eyes flickered toward him. “That’s pretty cool,” He said, the briefest of smiles passing over his face.

Ray shrugged, stuffing the sharp prongs in his bag and collapsing the staff portion like a telescope, shoving that into his pocket. “It’s a pain when a fight starts, but then again, the mist doesn’t work too well on it, so Ryan’s right.”

“The mist?” Geoff glanced over at Ryan.

“Hides the stuff of myth from mundanes, Otherwise there would be a lot of Cyclops spottings that we don’t want to deal with. Also, Ray, Michael went to go get Gavin, so they’ll be back soon.” Ryan finally shoved his sword back into its hilt before stretching back in the sun.

“No sign of Jack?” Ray asked, glancing around for the redhead.

Geoff shook his head. “Not yet.”

Ray plopped down beside Geoff, debating for a second asking where he was last night, but then thought better of it. “Nervous?” He whispered, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Geoff shrugged, fiddling with the straps of his backpack again.

“Dunno man, it was just kind of sudden. I don’t think I have time to be nervous honestly.”

Ray felt a pit of guilt form in his stomach. He kind of was just dragging Geoff along for the ride. Him and Gavin had hardly been in the camp more than a week and they were being taken away from that. Based on the little that Geoff had told him, Ray was dragging him away from the first sense of stability he had had in a long time.

“Hey, whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.” Geoff sliced through his thoughts. “This is supposed to be exciting and shit for you right? Leading a quest? Look like it.”

Ray nodded, a real smile creeping across his face as Michael and Gavin finally made their way over. Michael was talking excitedly, probably about his last quests, to Gavin who listened attentively. With a hint of satisfaction, Ray noticed that Michael was not carrying any obvious weapons. Instead, a familiar silver ring clung to the pointer finger on his left hand.

At the same time, Jack approached from the other direction. When he spotted them through cracked glasses, he raised a hand. “Geoff come over here, I got something for you.” He called, waving.

“I should go see,” Geoff said, patting Ray on the shoulder and using it as support as he stood. He crossed the clearing to the meet the redhead, who produced a small leather case from his backpack.

“Are we getting geared to go?” Michael disrupted Ray’s line of sight, stepping in front of him.

“Yeah, now that everyone’s here, I guess this is as good of a time as ever.” Ray glanced around Michael just in time to see Geoff return the end of a silver dagger back into the case, talking quietly with Jack, a stern look across his face. Ray couldn’t make out a single word of what was being said and he frowned.

A sharp kick slammed into his thigh and he realized that Michael was still talking. “Hey, I asked you where we were starting out. “

Ray moved his gaze to his backpack and dug around in the front pocket for the map Gus had given him. On it, the first X was marked in Pennsylvania. “Apparently this is where the first ring is.”

“And how are we getting there?”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Why do you think I’m on this quest?” He said, with slight accusation. “We’re taking one of the camp vans and I’m one of the few with a viable driver’s license.”

Ray nodded with a shrug. “You have other uses too Ryan.”

“Oh, that makes me feel better.” He said, but half-smiled to show that his feelings weren’t too hurt. “We’re finding six of these rings right? That seems like one for each of us.” Ryan smirked. “A trophy for each of us.”

Jack and Geoff finally rejoined them, the leather case had been stored away somewhere. “Is it time to go?” Jack tried to sound enthusiastic. He rubbed at his chi with a smile. The parts of his beard that had been burned away were starting to regrow in stubbly patches.

“Yeah, time to get this party started.” Ray said, the nervous knot retying itself in his stomach. It was time for the adventure to begin.

“And I still suck at it. We’re even.” Michael said, offering his free hand out to Gavin, which he took.

Michael was in a noticeably good mood that morning: partially because his team had been victorious in Capture the Flag the day before, and partially because he just got to beat the shit out of him. Gavin had been giving Michael lessons in archery and fixing his technique, and Michael thought it was an equal trade if he helped albeit it was mostly a way for Michael to channel his excessive anger.

However, it was still better than getting elbowed in the nose again. Gavin still had a bruise.

As an Ares kid, Gavin guessed, it just made Michael the best at anything violent. He swung the sword around as Gavin watched, beheading a collection of dummies that he had pulled out of storage. Each swing had produced a cloud of dust and straw. “See? See!” He would say after every couple of swings as if Gavin was supposed to understand. The first no had received a terrifying scowl, so Gavin only nodded and smiled each time instead.

Then, as they began to spar, Michael seemed to find immense joy in knocking Gavin’s sword out of his hands in increasingly creative ways. Knocking him off his feet, almost dislocating his shoulder, and simply tackling him to the ground seemed to be Michael’s favorites, even if only one was truly swordplay.

Yet, somehow this seemed to help somewhat as Gavin rubbed out his sore shoulder and picked up his sword from the ground, thus begun round Gavin-lost-count-a-long-time-ago.

“Ready for some more?” Michael smirked, lashing out with his sword just as the last word left his mouth.

Gavin’s sword went up faster than any time before, matching Michael’s strike and sidestepping his larger opponent. He tried to sweep Michael’s feet, aiming the flat of the blade for his knees, but the swing was easily jumped. There was another attempted strike to Gavin’s right that only missed his armor by a hair’s width. However, with that swing was a gap in Michael’s stance that was immediately taken advantage of.

With a forward thrust, Gavin caught a strap of Michael’s armor with the side of his sword and with a grunt; he put his whole weight onto the blade. The sudden tug in his armor caused Michael’s to stumble and to Gavin’s immense glee, lose his balance. “Fuck!” He shouted before hitting the ground.

There was a cloud of dust and Michael was on the ground, wrestling Gavin’s blade out of the leather strap. “You son of a bitch, that was awesome.” He muttered, trying to hide the smile that fluttered across his red face.

Gavin matched that smile, bending over his knees panting. The heat of the day beat down on them and the front of their shirts were clearly soaked with sweat. “It’s probably about time we turned in. Caleb hasn’t taught me how to deal with heat stroke yet.”

Michael looked like he was about to say something when someone beat him to it.

“Hey llllllloosers!” Ray trotted into the arena, grinning madly as he spotted them. “Is Michael teaching you how to swordfight, that’s hysterical.” The dark-haired kid commented, a sly smile crossing his face.

Michael jumped to his feet, clenching his jaw. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His knuckles turned white around the hilt of his sword. Gavin’s hung in his other hand until he held it out to Ray. “Put your money where your fucking mouth is.”

“Okay.” The smile didn’t disappear from Ray’s face.

The fight that proceeded was nothing like Gavin and Michael had. Michael swung his sword toward Ray’s stomach for a brutal blow that was swiftly met with a counter that threw Michael backward with an explosion of sparks. Then, with movement almost too fast for Gavin to see, Ray took the butt of his sword to Michael’s fighting hand. The force of the strike caused Michael to let go with a cry, but that wasn’t the end. Ray took the flat of his sword to his opponent’s ankles. Michael was down on the ground and had the tip of a sword to his throat before Gavin could even think about assisting his friend.

“We both know what you’re good at Michael. Stick to that.” Ray took the point of the sword away, the seriousness of his expression dissolving into a more familiar goofy grin. “Now that’s aside, I wanted to talk to you idiots about something important.”

“What? Kicking my ass wasn’t the most important part of your day?” Michael growled, trying to wipe the shame off his face.

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I won’t take you on my quest.”

Michael never scrambled to his feet faster. Gavin noticed a new flame burst behind his eyes. “A quest? Why the hell didn’t you say so sooner?”

Ray shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “I don’t know if it will be as fun as the hellhounds in Nashville, but the rings of Alecto, how does that sound?”

“Wait a second, a quest?” Gavin quickly interrupted before he became as lost as usual. This didn’t sound like something that was to be taken lightly, as Ray and Michael looked to be on the edge of reminiscing. Between violent games of Capture the Flag and classes including dangerous weapons, it wasn’t surprising that these quests were a thing.

“Saving people, finding artifacts, understanding the world. You know, that stuff.” Ray smiled, but there was something off-putting about it. “And I was going to ask if you both wanted to come.”

“Gavin?”

“Me?”

Both of them were incredibly incredulous at the same time. Gavin’s jaw dropped slightly, he had just gotten to camp and accepted that this entire experience wasn’t an extended vivid dream. Why the hell would he leave when he was just settling?

“Hell yeah, you have mad aim. Michael may be able to hack and slash his way through enemies, but you have the advantage of distance.”

“Why not take some Apollo kid that actually has some quest experience?” Michael interjected, but Ray shook his head.

“Come on dude, it’s like a right of passage. I think Gavin can handle it.”

Gavin found it very difficult to get his jaw to snap back into place. It was nearly touching the ground. “I—I guess I could go.”

An arm rough wrapped around Gavin’s shoulders and Michael pulled him closer. “And I’ll protect him. We’re both in!” He was a little more enthusiastic than usual. “He’s my boy, where he goes I go.”

“Awesome. Now just to fill the last spot.” Ray said, starting to turn around.

“Wait a second,” A confused look passed over Michael’s face. “It’s not just the three of us?” The tough exposure that he always presented seemed to slip. “More than that tends to be bad luck.”

“Nope. Quest calls for six. Nothing I can do about it.” Ray shrugged, still trying to smile, but Gavin could tell it was getting harder. “Starting packing your bags Lads, we leave on Monday.”

“Hey dude, what’s up?” Ryan’s harsh whisper caused Geoff to jump, shoving his arms behind his back even though there was nothing to hide except his tattoos. “You’ve been off since Capture the Flag.” Ryan hung upside down from his bunk, his head hanging at the perfect height to meet Geoff’s eyes square on.

Geoff shrugged, sitting down on his bed, forcing Ryan to roll onto his stomach and drop down lower, letting his arms hang off the bunk. “Seriously, you can talk to me. I don’t have to be Ryan the Strangler to you. That’s just a horror story for the kids.” He tried to smile, but it only succeeded on half of his face.

“I made up Ryan the Strangler this morning.” Geoff muttered, rubbing his eyes. He was tired and all he wanted was to sleep, not to be psychoanalyzed by Ryan.

“Yeah but since then I have convinced ten kids that I actually strangled a Cyclops to death when I was twelve.”

Geoff was too tired to argue. Ryan was a psychopath. That had been established a long time ago. “Go to bed Ryan.” He said with a heavy sigh, flopping down onto the blankets. “I’m done talking.”

“Sheesh, okay.” Ryan hissed from between his teeth. There was a series of grunts as he wiggled his way back onto his bed. “Goodnight you grumpy prick.”

Of course, sleep came as easily as when he used sleep in the gutters. He tossed and turned, throwing the covers on and off as he switched between being too hot and too cold. The snoring of the campers around him was about three times as annoying as usual and the wood above him creaked each time Ryan moved.

Geoff peeked one open and focused on the dim glow coming from the window. He held his breath as a shape drifted past, casting a blurry shadow across the floor. As it disappeared, he slowly rose from his bed; hardly bothering to throw on a hoodie he picked up off the ground.

He jogged across the clearing in bare feet, eyes scanning the trees that lined the cabins for any movement. With a sharp inhale, he noticed one of the harpies settle near Hypno cabin, but it only watched him with a lazy gaze as he reached Poseidon cabin. They were probably used to watching him escape at night anyhow, he wasn’t worth their time.

Normally, the door swung open before Geoff even touched the knob. Ray expected on an almost nightly basis. However, this time, as he reached for door, it did not open. Even when he twisted the knob, he was surprised to find it locked. Ray never locked his door.

Checking over his shoulder and with a jolt of terror realizing that the bored harpy had renewed interest, Geoff slammed his fit against the door. “Hey Ray, open up or I might get eaten.”

Hardly a second later, as if he was waiting for Geoff to knock, Ray opened the door. Geoff stumbled inside and Ray slammed it closed as the harpy rose onto its legs. “What’s with the door locking? You never do that.” Geoff’s voice cracked, wiping some cold sweat off the back of his neck. The harpies still gave him the heebie-jeebies.

The cabin was dark, not surprising for close to midnight, but there was no faint glow of a DS or music playing quietly. Instead Ray watched him blearily through tired eyes, and forced to squint without his glasses. “What are you doing here?” He muttered, rubbing a hand through his dark hair.

“Like you didn’t expect me.” Geoff muttered, but paused as Ray continued to scowl at him. “What’s wrong with you?” Geoff had come to Poseidon cabin hoping to dump some of the shit that had happened today on him. Ray was a son of the ‘Big Three’ or whatever it was called, maybe he would have some advice about being the son of Zeus. Instead, it seemed like Ray was the one who needed to get something off his chest.

“Nothing,” Ray finally grumbled, sitting down on his bed. “Nothing is ever wrong with me.”

Geoff couldn’t help it; there was a slight sting in his hand as it collided with the side of Ray’s head. “Stop being stupid and spill it.” He knew he was being a hypocrite. He had refused sharing time with Ryan, but he wasn’t going to let Ray to get by with this behavior. He was too happy of a kid to ever be grumpy.

“I turn fifteen in—“ Ray glanced toward the radio on his nightstand. “two days.”

“Congrats,” Geoff glowered, not understanding the cause for a foul mood. “One year closer to being able to legally drink.”

Ray made a face, sticking out his tongue. “Nah man, alcohol is gross.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and get you shit-faced once I convince Ryan to steal some booze next week.”

“Nah, it’s just that as a son of the Big Three, you’re guaranteed a life-altering prophecy before you’re eighteen.” Ray sighed, leaning against the wall. Geoff tried to hide the lump that had begun to clog his throat. “Mine starts in two days and I know I’m not ready.”

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Don’t say that,” He started, but then closed his mouth when he realized that he had nothing better to follow that.

“It’s not the quest, per se, that I’m worried about. Six demigods, six trials of the Golden Pillar, and the rings of Alecto. That’s the abridged version. However, the impending doom tacked on the end is what bothers me. Delay too long and a son of the Sky King will get you. Fucking Zeus kids, they always mean trouble.” Ray gave a shaky laugh, and Geoff was quick to turn on his heels, peeling the sweatshirt away from his suddenly sweaty back. “Well, I guess since there isn’t one in camp at the moment, I will have to worry about one on the quest.”

“W—Well who are you going to take with you?” Geoff tried to hide his apprehension but his voice still cracked. He definitely couldn’t tell Ray now. ‘Hey dude, I’m that son of Zeus so I guess this means I will have totally kill you.’ Yeah, that didn’t sound very good.

“That was actually something I wanted to ask you. I want you and Ryan to come with me. Ryan’s really resourceful, being a kid of Hermes and all, and then you have your street smarts. I have none, so I need something to compensate for that.”

With that, Geoff heart sank. His answer was on the tip of his tongue to turn it down. “I just came to camp, are you sure that—“ Geoff turned to face Ray and met his eyes. His words froze in his throat.

“I have my reasons. And Ryan’s experience is more than enough to make up where you lack.” Ray half-smiled, looking a touch more confident than when Geoff had walked in. “So, you’ll go right?”

Tell him, tell him, tell him, tell him. Geoff’s brain screamed at him. Somehow, instead, he smiled half-heartedly and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

A sigh, heavier than a boulder, lifted from Ray’s chest. Panic flooded out from his feet in a wave. He had a tad longer, the words given to him when he turned thirteen, were still only the worst birthday gift ever. Fingers closed around his shoulder, and Ray turned to face a winded and pale-faced Gavin. “Bloody hell, you run fast.” He panted, wiping some sweat from his forehead.

The ear-splitting call of the conch echoed through the air. With the red flag still in Jack’s hands, that had to mean that the blue flag had been claimed. Normally, Ray would have pitched a fit. Losing to Ares was an embarrassment, but the son of Poseidon was too relieved for that. He slung an arm across Gavin’s shoulders, turning him back toward the camp. “You’ll get there. In Camp Half-Blood, there’s a lot to run away from.”

Gavin groaned, his shoulders slumping. “That is excellent encouragement.”

Dinner was a mess of shouting and taunts passed around the tables, a growing cloud of animosity after the game hovered above the eating campers. Ray watched from his empty table as the tension wrapped itself tighter and tighter, threatening to snap in a food fight. Ray had specifically gotten mashed potatoes for the occasion, waiting for someone to shoot first. That was the best part about Capture the Flag, a food fight almost always followed it.

“Umm, Ray Narvaez?” A tiny voice asked from his left. Ray let his hand stray from his ready plate with a glance. It was a young satyr; his horns were invisible underneath dense dark curls. “You’re wanted in the Big House.” The young satyr gulped nervously before dashing off. For the second time that day, Ray felt his heart drop into his stomach.

The food fight promptly erupted behind him as soon as Ray stood outside the mess hall’s doors. A baked potato sailed past his ear as Ray closed the door behind him.

A few satyrs sprinted past him and into the chaos to calm down the campers, as Ray kicked his way down the path to the Big House. He knew exactly what this meeting was going to be about. Mr. D wouldn’t be there. He didn’t have a soft spot for children of Poseidon. It would probably be Gus, maybe Burnie. They tolerated him at best, and knew the whole story. They were one of the few.

His fifteenth birthday was only a few days away. That’s when everything would change, Ray wasn’t oblivious to it. He could only wish that puberty could be his biggest problem. A huge hint to those that are confused, it wasn’t his biggest problem.

Sure enough, before Ray could even knock on the door, it swung open to reveal the grumpiest satyr on the planet. “Thank gods I have you to deal with. Otherwise I would have pudding in my hair and you have NO IDEA how hard it is to get pudding out of your legs.”

“That was more information than I needed to know Gus.” Ray muttered under his breath and received a death stare. “What did you call me for?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know. Specific orders probably kept Gus from hitting him at that exact moment.

Gus crossed his arms and huffed. “Stop fucking around, you can’t avoid this with stupidity. We both know you are too smart for that.” The front room of the Big House was cleared of the Ping-Pong table that was typically used for Counselor meetings. Ray had been attending them for as long as he could remember, being the only Poseidon kid made that happen. However, he had paced these floors many times in its absence under the watchful eyes of Gus and Burnie. They knew everything.

“You turn fifteen in three days, there’s kind of a prophecy hanging over your head. Are you going to do something about that?”

And there was the reason Ray hadn’t slept at all the last week. The prophecy was almost a decade old now, given to him when he first stepped in Camp Half Blood. Six demigods, fronted by the son of Poseidon on his fifteenth birthday, must complete the trials of the Golden Pillar to recover the six rings of Alecto. “If he idles too long, a son of the Sky King will send death to his heart.” The last sentence barely escaped Ray’s mouth as he recounted it for Gus.

When Ray was six and heard these words from a mummified hippy, he hadn’t thought twice about them. Six year olds didn’t have time for that when there were sharp swords to play with, and he wasn’t going to be fifteen for a whole nine years. Well, those nine years went by too quickly for Ray.

It wasn’t the quest that scared him. He was no stranger to those; he was a totally popular guy to be chosen for them. It was the ‘death to his heart’ part that scared the ever-living shit out of him as he lay in bed at night. There was a reason that thunderstorms were absolutely terrifying.

“I don’t even know where to start with that stupid quest.”

Gus’s frown deepened. “And stalling might kill you. Make a choice.” When Ray chose to remain silent, the satyr sighed dramatically. “Don’t mistake this as actually caring about you, but I would suggest pulling a party together for starters, and I have something to help you.”

The sound of his hooves against the wood echoed through the house as Ray stared down at his shoes. He would much rather be thigh-deep in the food fight than sweating about this stupid prophecy.

The edge of a map crossed into Ray’s field of vision. Gus held out the yellowed and slightly torn paper, trying to maintain an apathetic face. “I’ve been pulling in quite a few favors just for you Kid. Don’t waste them.”

Ray opened up the map slowly, flinching as the paper crinkled in his hands. Five thick, black X’s marked the map, each of them landing on a city with a name Ray recognized. “Well, thank goodness there’s not time limit on this Quest.” Ray tried to laugh, but it failed in his throat.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Gus warned. “Shit always goes down around a prophecy. This won’t just be about you.”

“Sometimes it feels like it.”

Gus gripped his shoulder with a thump. “You’ll be fine Kid, you won’t be alone on this. My suggestion would just be to choose wisely. I would suggest having a party ready to go by Monday.”

Ray groaned. “I fucking hate Mondays.”

As quietly as possible, not that his footsteps could be heard over Ryan’s string of cusses and the fighting just beyond the trees, Geoff crept over to the flag. The two guards were attempting to drag a still thrashing Ryan in the opposite direction as he attempted to bite their hands. Geoff snatched the flag from its spot, crumpling the fine material in his hands.

His heart hammered against his chest, and for a moment he was frozen, only watching as one of the guards finally glanced over his shoulder. However, before it even computed in the kid’s head that their flag was stolen, Geoff was gone in a flash. His feet had never moved faster in his life as he leapt over a bush and into the cover of the woods. There was shouting behind him as several of the Ares team noticed that, holy shit, their flag was gone.

Geoff took the path that Ryan had described before the game started. Running straight for the creek was risky, he would definitely be confronted several times before he reached the safety of the other side. He had only been in camp a week and his skills with any weapon were shaky at best. Geoff had some concept of how to work a knife, but compared to an experienced camper’s sword? Even he didn’t want to take that risk. That meant taking the longest route possible along the edge of the wood.

At first, it was quiet as he lost the other campers. He was alone, trying to walk as quietly as he could, avoiding the twigs and pebbles that threatened to give away his position. He stepped slowly over a root that threatened to trip him, and his eyes scanned the thicket around him in a fit of paranoia. He was so close to winning, he didn’t want to mess this up for Ryan and Ray. Before the game, they had been both been thrilled when Geoff showed up from his day at the beach, ready for the game. They each talked about their first Capture the Flag game in length, assuring Geoff that he would love it as well.

His fingers ached; his knuckles had turned white from the strength in which he used to hold onto the flag. He wasn’t going to let it go for anything.

The woods around him were dark, the thick canopy of leaves and needles blocking out the sun in some patches. However, with a sharp bang to his left, the air around him became thick with smoke, completely blotting out his vision. “What the hell?” He muttered under his breath, heart kicking back into gear, throwing itself against his ribcage.

He was about to run, escape the cloud of smoke, when something collided with his side. Geoff was thrown to the ground, dagger sliding away from his fingers, something much larger than him pinning him to the forest ground. Instinct kicking in, Geoff lashed out with his fists, one of them collided with hair. His fingers buried deep and latched on, tugging at it.

“That is such a dirty move!” A voice howled in response and Geoff recognized it immediately.

“Jack?” Geoff asked through the smoke. Through the thinning smoke, his red hair started to stand out and Geoff felt his hand close around the flag as well, ready to wrestle for it.

All the hair on Geoff’s neck and arms stood up as a shiver passed down his spine. Through the smoke, a light that didn’t belong to the sun caught his eyes. And then, as the smoke blinded him, it changed to a painful white as something came streaking out of the sky. With reflexes he shouldn’t have possessed, Geoff rolled, barely avoiding the searing hot flash of lightning as it struck the ground.

There was a tremendous rumble that shook the Earth beneath them and blinding pain rushed up Geoff’s arms. The flag fell in a red flutter from his hands as he pushed Jack off with surprisingly strength and stumbled away.

“Geoff, what the hell is going on?” His voice was muffled, as Geoff’s vision blurred into black at the corners and everything around him became white noise. Pain, like nothing he had ever felt, rushed up and down his arms. For a moment, all he could do was clutch at his skin, begging for the agony to subside. It pulsed and writhed under his muscles, like a current of electricity searched for an escape from its flesh prison.

With a ragged breath, Geoff stared down at the arms, almost expecting them to be burning. Maybe the heat from the strike had been enough to melt his skin away. It felt that way. However, as he stared, mouth gaping open, his skin was still on his bones. His tattoos were not the same, they glowed a white-blue, blotting out whatever color they had been. The only interruption of the bright pattern was the three thick scars from the harpy attack, which seemed to be disappearing, as his arms grew brighter.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The light faded from Geoff’s arms, the pain ebbing away with it, leaving only a dull ache. The scars had completely disappeared from his skin, normal and untouched skin was left in its place. Just a few feet away, the ground was blackened to a crisp from the strike, sending a column of smoke into the sky.

Geoff turned toward a pale-faced Jack, who clutched the red flag close to his chest. At first they stared at each other in silence, neither quite sure what had just happened. The color slowly returned to Jack’s face and a look of realization crossed his face. “You are definitely no son of Hermes.”

The sound of footsteps rapidly approaching finally spurred Geoff into action. “I have to get out of here.” His old instinct of not standing out, blending in with the crowd, started to kick in. His months on the streets had told him being noticed was bad. This would definitely get him noticed.

Jack seemed to recognize Geoff’s panic and nodded. “I’ll come up with an excuse. Go.” He waved Geoff on with the flag, pointing back in the direction of camp.

As the footsteps and voices drew nearer, Geoff dashed into the trees, leaving Jack with the scorching hole in the ground and the flag.

The camp was empty as Geoff ran out of the woods. A group of nymphs stared at him as he tried to walk as calmly past them as he could. His breathing was ragged and he rubbed the skin along his arms, still trying to process what had happened. The lightning, the light along his arms, the electricity running in his veins, every sign pointed toward one thing. However, it was the one thing Geoff didn’t want to accept.

“What the hell are you doing back in camp Kid?”

Geoff whirled around to meet a familiar face. “Hi Burnie,” He muttered breathlessly, hiding his arms behind his back. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for Capture the Flag. Demigods can get a little intense.”

“So can you. I think I remember something about you pinning me up against a wall. I had to kick you to get away.” The satyr pointed out with a frown, not believing a word of Geoff’s lie. “Honestly, I think you have something to do with that smoke in the sky, but I’m not going to ask.” Burnie shook his head, throwing his arms in the air in resignation. “Sometimes, I have just had it up to my horns with you demigods and your talent for wrecking things.”

He started to clomp off, still muttering about demigods, when Geoff cleared his throat. “Hey Burnie, are there are other ways that Gods claim their children?” He managed to squeeze out before he wanted to strangle himself.

Burnie turned his head, arching an eyebrow. “Do you think you were claimed or something? I’m surprised you haven’t yet.”

Geoff shrugged. “I don’t think so,” Well, he hoped so. “I just want to know when it does happen.”

There was a moment of silence as Burnie mulled over his thoughts. “Aphrodite kids get make-overs from their mom, but I don’t see you getting prettier any time soon.” He smirked as he spoke. Geoff wanted to laugh, but it ended up with a half-hearted smile. “And there are times that Gods will directly contact their children, and stuff.” Burnie scratched at his beard. “That’s about all I can give you.” He pat Geoff on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much about it, the gods are assholes. You’re no better for knowing who your parent is. Anyway, don’t you like it in Hermes cabin?”

Geoff nodded, a lump forming in his throat. He really liked it in Hermes cabin, despite the noise and the chaos; he didn’t want to be in any other cabin. Yeah, occasionally he escaped to Poseidon cabin for peace, but he never wanted to leave for good. Ryan was his best friend in this crazy place. He didn’t want to abandon the little family he had for another cabin.

He wasn’t stupid. Geoff sighed heavily as Burnie told him to head back to Hermes and rest. The satyr headed off, saying he might be needed when the injured campers started to roll in.

Hermes cabin was silent as Geoff flopped down onto his cabin. Outside, the first of the campers had started to return, the Ares kids excitedly whooping as they held the blue team’s flag high above their head. They must have gotten it during the chaos. Geoff turned onto his side as the Hermes kids walked in, muttering amongst themselves, dejected by the loss.

Geoff felt a hand on his shoulder, and he didn’t have to turn to tell it was Ryan. “You disappeared and Jack had the flag. What happened?” When Geoff remained silent, he could practically feel Ryan’s eye roll. “Whatever. We would have won if Jack’s stupid bomb hadn’t malfunction. Distracted the whole team.”

He couldn’t be much older than Gavin with dark hair and glasses perched on his nose. In the ground beside him were the three prongs of a trident, the handle sticking up toward the sky. The boy was chewing the inside of his cheek as he wrestled the straps into place. He only noticed their approach at the last second. “Caleb! What’s up?” He tugged at the chest piece one last time before letting it thump against his chest.

“Ray, I want you to meet Gavin. He’s a mean shot with an arrow.”

“Aren’t all of Apollo’s children or is that an elaborate conspiracy?” Ray arched an eyebrow, a sly smile stretching across his face.

Caleb scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue. “Don’t turn into Matt on me.” He teased, pulling a few arrows out of the quiver strapped to his back and weighing them in his hands. “Ryan told me to pair the two of you up,” He said, his hand slapping roughly onto Gavin’s shoulder. “Ray here is a child of Poseidon, he has some pretty nasty water powers. And these are for you Gavin.” He offered the arrows he held in his hand.

Gavin took them cautiously, half-expecting them to explode. Caleb had already played that trick on him earlier in the week. During practice, he handed over an arrow that when Gavin hit the target, exploded into a thousand pieces. Just thinking about it made his cheek sting with the invisible cut the shrapnel had given him.

“These don’t explode.” Caleb huffed and rolled his eyes, as if reading Gavin’s mind. “They launch a net, can trap about four or five campers in a go. You and Ray are going to be a distraction, try to lure away as many of the other team as you can and trap them.”

“Sounds good to me!” Ray barked enthusiastically, pulling his trident out of the ground with a flourish. The movement caused Gavin to stumble backward as the razor sharp tips breezed inches away from his chest plate. “The other cabins won’t know what hit them.”

Gavin sighed and shoved the new arrows into his quiver, a heavy dread in his chest. All around him the campers were almost finished dressing in their thick armor, chatting eagerly with heat-flushed faces about strategy and tactics. Ryan, the head of Hermes cabin, was directing his campers, which were numerous, into position. In the back of the group, Gavin noticed the tattooed kid Geoffrey. They hadn’t spoken since they both arrived in Camp Half Blood and Gavin was ushered to Apollo cabin after being claimed. He wondered how the other new camper was getting along.

“Hey, Gavin, ready to go?” Ray snapped Gavin back to the present with a nudge in the shoulder.

Gavin sighed heavily, the knot in his stomach growing tighter. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Ray led Gavin to a spot along the stream that marked the boundary between their team’s territory, and the other team, which was spearheaded by Ares cabin. At first, it was only them in the eerie quiet. At the water’s edge, Ray stripped off his boots and socks, storing them under a tree. “Be ready to grab those for me if I say so. The forest isn’t exactly a place to run barefoot.”

‘Then why did you take off your shoes?’ Gavin was going to ask when Ray waded about ankle-deep into the water, standing at the halfway point in the stream. With a look of deep concentration, he raised his hands and with it a wave of water moved with the motion. The water flew up toward the sky in thick mist, completely obscuring the other side of the stream.

“Be ready when the first wave of campers arrives. You are going to shoot one of those arrows into the spray and surprise those fuckers.” Ray punched the air enthusiastically, a wave of water following the path of his arms, effectively drenching the child of Poseidon. Beads of water pooled on the lenses of his glasses, making his eyes match his crazy smile.

The sound of a conch echoed through the silent trees, and it was answered with the roar of camper’s voices as the game was launched into action. Ray readied his trident at his side and Gavin’s hands shook as he pulled the first net-enabled arrow from his quiver.

In the shadows, Gavin would spot flashes of blue plumes as his teammates made their way to the stream, starting the offense. Then, it wasn’t long until the first collection of red plumes appeared out of the trees.

Ray’s arms were a blur as he sent the first wall of water into the air, scattering the Ares players with a wild scream, but they weren’t fast enough. Gavin positioned the arrow and let it fly into the spray. There was a loud click and several muffled thumps as campers were thrown to the ground. The mist cleared with the breeze and the net had captured four campers that squirmed underneath the weight.

“Hell yes!” Ray scrambled back onto the shore, panting with a manic grin stretched across his face. “Come on Gavin,” He whacked Gavin on the shoulder, jarring him out of his surprised stupor. “We need to help cover other parts of the stream.”

The campers underneath the net continued to struggle away from its grip, but it was useless. Even a girl from Ares attempted to cut away at the rope with the dagger in her hand, but it was useless. The net held strong.

With boots pulled on haphazardly, Ray scrambled along the bank, glancing over his shoulder in an almost constant motion to be certain that Gavin was still there.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins after that shot. It was exhilarating just to hit a target when it mattered. Gavin’s heart hammered against his chest, however this time it was for the thrill of the game, and bloody hell was it fun.

The scene repeated itself two more times. A group of campers would come rushing near the stream, Ray would create a wall of water, and Gavin took them out with a net arrow. The third group had even included two campers from their first attempt. Gavin was nearly in stitches as they screamed in unrestrained frustration at being trapped for a second time.

Ray ran ahead again, his boots splashing in the shallows. The trident spun in his hand, unable to keep his fingers still. Gavin didn’t blame him; he could hardly allow his heart to rest. This was the most fun he had had in a long time. “I hope our team grabs the flag soon,” Ray said breathlessly, finally slowing at a new portion of the stream. He threw off his boots, tugging off his socks in a flurry. “This is fucking exhausting.”

“No kidding,” Gavin panted, bent over his knees. Sweat dripped down his neck and face, becoming droplets on the front of his chest plate. “Maybe can you splash me a bit, that might help.”

Ray laughed as was about oblige when there was the sound of numerous footsteps. “It will have to be after we deal with them.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, readying his hands for another wave of water. The group came charging out of the trees, spears already raised, obviously prepared for what was about to happen.

“I think they’ve caught onto us.” Ray said, almost gleefully as he raised a wave bigger than any before. He was about to send it crashing onto the group of furious campers when there was a sharp crack, lighting up the trees for miles. The thunderous clap that accompanied it shook the ground and Gavin covered his ears. Ray’s wave froze in midair then came crashing down around them, soaking them both to the bone. Gavin shot a panicked look at Ray; this wasn’t part of the game, was it?

All color had disappeared from Ray’s face, a genuine look of fear in his eyes. His jaw clenched and then he was a blur of movement as he dashed past the other team and into the forest toward the rising column of smoke. His trident had fallen out of his hands and glimmered at the bottom of the stream.

Ryan crossed his arms like an angry child. “Just be back before Capture the Flag.” He called to Geoff’s retreating back as he slipped out the door.

He was headed straight for the beach. It was a long stretch of sand beyond the mess hall and the climbing wall. A majority of the campers were taken either to the lake at the center of camp, and if they were going to be in the ocean, it was directly off the path. A group of kids were already splashing around in the shallows as Geoff passed. He got a couple waves from the older campers that stood in ankle-deep waters, only sparing him a glance from their younger charges. It was about another half-mile hike over the rocky beach before the campers became spots in the distance. At first, Geoff flopped down in the sand, enjoying the quiet of only the waves crashing on the shore. It was probably the first moment of peace he had since arriving at Camp Half Blood. It was definitely the first time he was alone.

Hermes cabin was a constant blur of noise and movement, kids coming in and out. Since his arrival, about five kids had moved out after being claimed by their lazy parents. Apparently, years before this would have been considered a miracle, but some boy, Percy, had fixed this with the Gods. That kid must have been a badass. Despite the now five empty beds, the noise level had hardly gone down.

Some nights Geoff did hide out in Poseidon cabin, and Ray was more than happy to have a cabinmate every once in a while. The kid was a riot and a complete mystery to Geoff. Sometimes he seemed so naïve and nothing seemed to faze him. Then Geoff watched him impale a straw dummy with a trident and decapitate another with a sword, and decided never to piss Ray off ever.

However, as much peace Poseidon cabin offered him, it did not compare to this. Geoff sat back up, pulling his shirt off and throwing it aside in the sand. He slid for a moment on the shifting ground, but was quick to the water, letting his scorched toes cool in the water. Each day seemed to get stuffier and hotter than the previous one, but his tolerance to the weather increased dramatically in that short week.

He stretched his arms above his head, enjoying the breeze that drifted off the water and rustled in the trees over his shoulders. In the sun, Geoff could clearly see the scars that stretched across his arm. He had shown them to Burnie only a few days before, who scratched his chin at the sight, muttering how they should have been healed by now. Geoff had only shrugged. He didn’t mind a few extra scars.

Wading deeper into the water, the water was about waist deep before the rocks completely disappeared underfoot, and nearly dragging Geoff down with it. Not expecting the sudden drop, he came up spluttering salt water and wiping it from his stinging eyes.

Geoff turned toward the shore just in time to witness something spectacular and absolutely horrifying. There was an echoing explosion and a cloud of smoke rose from the forest. Even in the water, Geoff swore he felt a wave of heat hit him.

He rushed out onto shore, sand sticking to his calves as he kicked it up behind him. However, as he reached the line of trees, someone burst out of the shadows and dashed past him, stumbling face first into the water.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Geoff called, sliding through the sand as he tried to run to the fallen camper. Smoke rose from the water where the boy had faceplanted, and for a moment panic rose in Geoff’s throat as the figure didn’t move.

Then there was an explosion of movement as the boy raised his head with a splash, patting down the remnants of a scraggly beard that had once been on his chin. “Damn it, that took months to grow!” The front of his t-shirt was riddled with burn holes, exposing surprisingly undamaged skin.

Geoff waded into the water, standing about calf-deep in front of the still-smoking camper. He was solid with wide-set shoulders and a round face framed by holed ginger stubble. Also, he had a noticeable lack of eyebrows. He narrowed his eyes in Geoff’s direction, setting his jaw. “Hello,” He said, squinting. “I would give a proper greeting if I could actually tell who you are.”

He reached into the water and Geoff quickly joined him, searching the rocky bottom for glasses. Up close, this camper was easy enough to recognize. Jack Pattillo of Hephaestus cabin, he was easy to pick out of a crowd with hair as red as the bonfire.

Geoff’s fingers skimmed against something, and grabbed it before the waves pulled them away. “Are these your glasses?” He asked, pulling out a pair of thick frames. One of the lenses was cracked right down the middle. “They might be a bit broken.” He warned when Jack reached for them.

“They were already cracked, don’t worry about it.” Jack pushed the glasses onto his face and his eyes refocused on Geoff. “Oh, you’re the new camper that Ryan goes on and on about.”

Nodding, feeling a slight blush creep across his face, Geoff offered a hand to Jack, which he took. “Ryan’s a good guy,”

“I don’t know what he would do without you.” Jack grinned, squeezing out the hem of his shirt. “That’s another destroyed shirt, I should start a collection.”

“What the fuck were you doing anyway? That was a pretty big explosion.”

“I was working on a smoke bomb that my team was going to use during Capture the Flag, but as you can see, it doesn’t work like it’s supposed to.”

They waded out onto shore, Jack shaking his head to get the water out of his ears. All of a sudden, he paused midstep and whirled around to face Geoff. “Don’t tell Ryan about the bomb, our teams play against each other.” Then realization spread across his face. “Which means you’re on Ryan’s team and, ugh I’m an idiot.” He buried his face in a callused hand.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I won’t tell him.” Geoff laughed and smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Jack lifted his head, a grin breaking out across his face. “Ryan’s right, you are a cool dude.” He slung a still dripping arm across Geoff’s shoulders. “We’ll be good friends. Maybe you will get claimed and we can share a cabin.”

“I heard it’s like a thousand degrees in there.” Geoff protested, and Jack laughed harder.

“You will get used to it., I promise.”

Geoff tried to laugh along, but the topic had snagged something in his stomach. What if he did get claimed? He would have to leave Hermes cabin. Yeah, the noise level would probably go down drastically, but to abandon Ryan? Maybe he would just get claimed by Hermes, that would be the best news he received, possibly ever, or never get claimed. That would work too. Then again, he was apparently the failed son. He had never forgotten what the harpy had said as it tried to murder his sorry ass.

Maybe his father held even littler interest in him than most gods had for their children.

“I’m perfect.” Gavin grumbled and received a pat on the back in response. However, Carson/Cameron/Caleb/whatever recoiled his hand in disgust when he realized that Gavin’s back was covered in sweat.

Caleb smiled uneasily, playing with the bright pink frame of his sunglasses. “Well, eat up. We have archery practice next.”

“Archery?” Gavin perked up considerably, the first semblance of a smile crossing his face.

Wellsmith’s never encouraged violence of any sort. Weapons were banned on campus, and it was a strong belief that violence belonged in the realm of the common man. Archery was a noble sport, Gavin’s mother had always said, but Wellsmith’s heartily disagreed. That still didn’t stop his mum from getting him a proper bow and arrow and allowing him to smuggle it to school. As piles and piles of books were forced upon him, Gavin found comfort in the one thing he truly excelled in: archery.

The heat bothered him less as he plodded along behind the gaggle of Apollo campers. This was nothing like any summer camp Gavin had ever attended. These weren’t stuffy kids in polo shirts learning how to tie knots and use compasses. Around him activity flourished as kids brandished swords, spears, shields, and axes, learning to fight and defend. It was fascinating, honestly. As much as Gavin wanted to be frightened, he couldn’t hide the awe on his face.

“I suggest taking a target on the ends,” Caleb suddenly swooped in beside him, nearly causing Gavin to jump out of his skin. “We give the younger campers the middle ones so the counselors can keep an eye on them. They tend to fire their arrows a bit toward your face.” The boy rubbed a spot on his leg for emphasis and shot Gavin a pained look before heading toward the middle, waving to a group of children, that couldn’t be older than nine, holding pointy arrows.

Gavin took Caleb’s suggestion and moved toward the edge of the range, picking the second to last target. A girl with pretty blonde hair took the one to his right, and the last target remained without a camper. At least, that was the case for the first fifteen minutes.

“Oh shit, not again.” The girl next to him muttered, and for a moment Gavin thought she had missed the target. Then he realized that would be stupid, noticing the three arrows that were buried deep into the bullseye. Instead, he followed her gaze toward the path beside the range to see someone stomping in their direction.

“Who is that?” Gavin barely got out of his mouth before the stranger had placed his quiver down next to him.

The new kid was solid with wide-shoulders and a head of the curliest brown hair Gavin had ever seen. It was being smothered with a knit cap that was completely unnecessary in the brutal sun. “What does it matter to you?” The kid spat in the dirt near Gavin’s feet.

Gavin had met bullies at Wellsmith’s, but none were this big. “Prick.” He muttered under his breath as he knocked another arrow, taking a deep breath as he fell into position. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the new boy staring at him intensely, copying his motions.

They released their arrows at the same time. There was a loud thunk and Gavin threw his fists in the air when his arrow struck right into the bullseye. “Top!”

“Motherfucker.” The voice next to him raged. Before Gavin could turn his head, the boy already had another arrow ready and launched it. It landed near the first, about a foot away from the target to the right. In rapid succession, the boy launched arrow after arrow with such force that they started to fly right over the target.

“Calm down and take a deep breath, you just need to—“ Gavin tried to suggest, reaching for the kid’s arm to move it into correct position. What he received instead was that elbow to the nose. There was a sharp crack and Gavin stumbled backward, clutching his face. “You tosser, what the fuck was that for?” He shouted, pain exploding across his face.

“I don’t want any of your help,” The kid howled, stamping his foot.

It was barely five seconds before Caleb ran over, still clutching his bow. “JONES. What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled, standing as if to shield Gavin. “I thought that Ares kids were down at sword training.”

“Screw sword training, it’s dumb.” Jones crossed his arms. “Forget it, I’m leaving!” The kid threw his arms up in the air and stormed away, leaving his quiver and bow behind.

Gavin finally pulled his fingers away from his nose, which throbbed. Blood had spilled out into his fingers and down onto his shirt. “Bollocks, that hurt a lot.” He muttered, trying to keep the tears from spilling. He definitely wanted to go back to Wellsmith’s. No one hit him there.

Caleb rested a hand on his shoulder. “Ares kids are a real pain in the ass.” He glared in the direction the kid left. “And Michael Jones is one of the worst. I swear that kid is easier to set off than a bomb.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go get you cleaned up. You don’t need to spend the rest of the day in a blood and sweat-soaked shirt.”

Turned out that Caleb was pretty damn good at first-aid. His nose was quickly reduced in size, the swelling gone down with a few words and some strange-smelling medicine. “Apollo’s children are excellent healers. We’ll start teaching you soon enough.” The bleeding stopped and the pain was a dull throb.

Caleb pulled away, tugging the rubber gloves off his hands. “That is all I can do for now.” He tossed them in the trash with the small mountain of bloody tissues. “I need to grab the kiddos from the range, you’re welcome to stay here until we get back.”

He disappeared out the door and Gavin fell back onto his bunk with a huff. This place was awful. He wanted to go home. Well, as much of a home that was left in England. His eyes shifted toward the door and noticed a quiver and bow leaning against the wall. The front of the quiver was marked with an angry red boar; it had to be that kid, Michael’s.

It was stupid to consider it, especially when it was the kid that just elbowed him in the nose, but Gavin rose from the bed and collected the gear. Outside the cabins, kids rushed about on their business. In the early afternoon sun, the heat was almost unbearable as he stood, a moment of confusion passing over him as he glanced from one building to the other. Which one was Ares?

Then it was obvious as he spotted the atrocious red building with barbed wire on the roof. With a gulp, he knocked on the door, flinching when it opened almost immediately. A girl leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She was very pretty with blonde hair and a large ring sticking out of her nose. “What do you want?” She stared down at him. Her tone was harsh, but the smile on her face said otherwise.

“I think these belong to Michael.” He said, holding up the bow and quiver.

“Yeah, I already heard about his temper tantrum at the firing range.” She shrugged, turning into the cabin. “Hey Michael, get over here. There’s an Apollo kid here with your stuff!”

There was a loud stomping inside the cabin and then Michael appeared, still red-faced and frowning. He snatched the bow and quiver from Gavin’s hands, and turned to the girl. “Griffon, can I talk to him without you hovering? I promise not to beat the shit out of him.”

“Good enough for me.” The girl shrugged, disappearing into the cabin and closing the door behind her.

“Sorry about probably breaking your nose, I was mad.” Michael looked down toward the ground.

“It’s okay, I guess. Just please don’t do it again.”

“And I wanted to ask, Griffon would laugh if she heard me ask.” He muttered shaking his head. “You’re new in camp, and you’re already good at archery, and I guess that’s better for me. “ He started to ramble on, and Gavin was lost. “Aww fuck it. Can you help me with archery? I want to be good at something.”

For a moment, Gavin was stunned. This kid had just bashed him in the nose, and now he was asking for archery lessons? Guess it was less embarrassing, whatever this kid’s problem was, Gavin didn’t know it. And it wouldn’t hurt to be friends with him, Gavin was at a complete lack of those.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Michael looked stunned, then almost angry, and finally broke out into a smile. “Thanks dude, you’re cool.” He disappeared into the cabin just as Gavin noticed, from the corner of his eye, the group of Apollo kids returning to the cabin.

For the last few months he had been sleeping on the streets, pickpocketing strangers for food money, he had dropped out of school and the only people he hung around would probably stab him without a second thought. This was the best he was going to get in a long time.

However, his restless feet won. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, Geoff touched his bare feet to the floor and grabbed his shoes. Someone, Geoff wasn’t quite sure who, took his dirty clothes and had given him a fresh pair of running shorts and an obnoxiously orange camp shirt which he had no choice but to wear.  Carrying his shoes, Geoff tried to weave his way through the bunks as silently as he could. The floorboards squeaked underneath his feet, but it seemed that all these Hermes kids were heavy sleepers. Probably had to be in such a crowded space.

The door caused the most noise, creaking as he attempted to open it slowly. One kid closest to the door stirred, gave a loud snore, and flopped over.

The night air beyond the cabin was still warm, but had lost the heavy humidity. Geoff closed the door carefully behind him and pulled on his shoes over bare feet. Time to start running.

At first, the camp seemed deserted. Nothing stirred, all of the cabins dark and silent, staring at him as he ran by. He would head out the way he came, maybe find one of those chariots, couldn’t be much different than carjacking. He had done that before.

He was barely outside the circle of cabins when something screeched just beyond the trees. The sound cut through Geoff like a bolt of lightning and his heart started to slam against his chest. The image of the harpy flashed in front of his eyes, they wouldn’t keep those damned things here, would they? Geoff started to run faster, pumping his legs as fast as he could.

His path was severed as three shapes darted out of the trees, skimming the ground with razor talons. There was no trick of the eye this time. They were immediately monsters, and their beady eyes were locked right on him. “Camper out of bed. Camper is our dinner.” They screeched in unison, the first one dive-bombing straight for Geoff’s head.

The ground suddenly went slippery underneath his feet as his shoes slid against the grass. He couldn’t change direction fast enough for his panicked mind, truly terrified that he would receive a blow to the head. However, he found purchase soon enough and the harpy’s terrible maw missed him by a breath. Geoff was off running again, but back toward the cabins.

The lights stayed off and quiet as he ran along the line, desperately trying to reach Hermes cabin. He neared the peeling brown door when one of the harpies fell in a swoop, blocking the doorway. “Unclaimed camper out at night.” It growled as the other two circled overhead. “The best meal.”

“Hey, over here you idiot!” A shout rang out across the cabins. One cabin had its lights on, a beacon of hope. A figure stood outside the door, waving their hands.

Geoff sprinted faster than he had thought possible. The harpies were hot on his tail, calling threats to his back. Then the years of baseball when he was a kid kicked in and he slid the last yard, slipping past the stranger and across the wooden floor. The harpies attempted to follow inside, but were blocked by the camper. “He’s in the cabin, get lost! Shoo!” He shouted, blocking the entrance with his body, careful to keep a foot inside the cabin.

The harpies let out a low grumbling sound before launching back into the air. The kid slammed the door shut and whirled around to face Geoff. “Seriously, wandering around at night? At least learn the harpies’ patrol path before attempting that!” This camper was young, had tanned skinned with dark hair to match. He wore only a pair of white boxers decorated with bright red roses.

“They keep those things at a fucking kid’s summer camp?” were the only words Geoff could find, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Security. Yeah, they will eat any camper that wanders out at night but they are great guard dogs when needed.” The kid shrugged nonchalantly, scratching his head with a yawn. “You’re lucky I was still up. Otherwise you would’ve been bird-food.”

“That is the second time I’ve heard that today.” Geoff muttered, standing stiffly. This cabin was a stark contrast to Hermes cabin, stuffed to the brim with kids. No wonder Ryan had told Burnie to stick them with another cabin. This one was empty. About five bunks were spread out across the room, only one seemed occupied with pictures hanging on the wall next to it. The rest were carefully made and as Geoff leaned against one to stand, his hand was covered with dust. “Are you in here by yourself?”

It was not nearly as lived in as Hermes. The floor was relatively scuff free, it smelled of sea salt rather than sweat, and the walls lacked the decorations of several children attempting to share one space.

“Yeah,” The boy said, without a hint of loneliness. “My dad doesn’t like to get his groove on as often as some of the other gods.” He made a slow gyrating motion with his waist before stopping, a blush creeping across his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that--”

Geoff held up a hand. “I’m new to this mess, I don’t even know if that Hermes dude is my dad.” He sighed heavily. “This just feels like a bad dream.”

“It does feel like that at first, doesn’t it?” The kid laughed, sitting down on his bed. “My name’s Ray, and you’re new. A little old to be a new camper.”

“Tell me about it.” Geoff sat on the bed across from him, rubbing tired eyes. “I’m Geoffrey, but for the love of god don’t call me that. Geoff works just fine.” He flopped down on the bed, trying to ignore the cloud of dust that erupted from his back. “You’re not going to send me back out there, are you?”

Ray shook his head, a careful smile spreading across his face. “Nah, you don’t need to be harpy bait twice in one night. There’s plenty of room for you here.” The boy rose from his bed and plodded over to the lights, flicking them off. “If you want to make your grand escape, I suggest putting it off until dawn. No one likes to get up before eight here.”

Geoff mumbled a noise of acknowledgement, his muscles relaxing for the first time in days, this bed was really comfortable. He would only sleep a few hours, and then he would be out. Ray wasn’t going to stop him and the harpies would be gone with the sun. He only had to sleep a few hours.

A loud slam on the door jolted Geoff from sleep, banging his forehead against the bunk above him. Bright sunlight filtered in through the windows. He had definitely slept past dawn.

Ray was already out of bed, now wearing one of those obnoxious camp shirts. He had one sandal on his foot and hopped over to the door, still trying to pull the other one on.

“NARVAEZ, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR.” Ryan’s deep voice bellowed outside. “Do you have my new camper in there? I really don’t want to deal with the paperwork if he’s dead.” He continued to pound on the door until Ray ripped it open.

“YES.” Ray shouted back into Ryan’s face. “He’s right here you psychopath.”

“Nice escape attempt,” Ryan snorted, peering around Ray at him. “Didn’t even get past Poseidon cabin.” His face was slowly going from bright red back to a normal pale. “Let’s get going, it’s time for breakfast.”

“Sorry sir.” Gavin groaned, closing his eyes and trying to shrink further into the chariot, the cold metal pressing into his back. He wanted off this crazy ride. This was supposed to be a dream, not actually taking him miles from home. Well, kind of home. Real home had disappeared a year ago with Mum, after that Wellsmith Boy’s Academy was supposed to be ‘home’. That didn’t go quite as planned as well.

Honestly, at this point, Gavin’s whole life had been plans that didn’t go well. From an absent father, to boarding school, to not being there for Mum, not being able to say goodbye. The boy buried his head further into his knees, willed everything to go away, and for him to reappear in his bed.

When he did wake up, the metal of the chariot had grown warm with his heat and the ground had reappeared under the wheels. The satyr, Matt, had hopped from the base. Gavin got to numb legs, swaying uneasily as he used the edge of the chariot to steady himself. He was barely five steps from the golden platform when he took a few running steps to the nearest bush.

“Better there than in my chariot.” Matt muttered, patting the sick teenager on the back.

“It’s all over my shirt,” Gavin groaned, a track of tears running down his cheeks. His knees knocked together, his legs had turned to jello and threatened to send him to the ground. The evening sun was setting just beyond the trees and a heavy humidity that Gavin had never felt before in England settled on his chest.

Then the sound of wheels grinding against the ground and new a set of hooves startled the pair. Another chariot, not as impressive as the one Gavin had just ridden in, touched the ground.

“Burnie!” Matt called; waving a hand to another satyr that had a scary-looking teenager roughly by the collar. Gavin couldn’t help but notice one of the sleeves on the kid’s jacket was a ruddy brown with, what he was certain, was blood. The other kid jerked violently away from Burnie’s grip, the hoodie sliding off his arms in the process. A shout of pain escaped as the bloody sleeve ripped away from the wounds that decorated his tattooed arms.

Gavin shrunk behind Matt, as the tattooed kid whirled around to face Burnie. “I said to let go of me, now I’m bleeding again. Fuck.” His shouts dissolved into muttering as he snatched the jacket from the satyr’s hands and wrapped it around his bleeding arm.

“If you had just let me give you some ambrosia,”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been mugged. Knife-wielding thug, clawed harpy, whatever.”

“Mine only got sick all over his shirt. I think I win.” Matt piped up, receiving a dirty glance from both the satyr and the thuggish kid.

“Shut up, Matt.” Burnie grumbled, crossing his arms in a huff. “Let’s just get these two to Hermes cabin.” He whirled around to face tattoo kid. “Seriously Geoffrey, eat this. It will heal your arm.” He had a plastic baggie full of something, Gavin couldn’t quite tell. Geoffrey reached inside tentatively and put something square into his mouth.

The bright red wounds on his arm were suddenly swarmed by trails of pink, lacing together and closing the wound until all that remained was a shiny scar. Gavin could see Geoffrey struggle to hide a mixture of surprise and awe that crept across his face. He reached for another square when Burnie snatched the bag away and stuffed it into his sweater pocket. “It is possible for there to be too much of a good thing.” He warned.

Gavin trailed behind the two satyrs and Geoffrey as they walked through the ‘camp’. It seemed deserted as they passed a volleyball court and a rather large building that was decorated very brightly. “That’s the arts and crafts building.” A surprising voice informed Gavin as Matt fell in step beside him.

A distant roar of voices could be heard in the distance, in the direction of a rather large building, brightly lit in an orange glow. “And that is the amphitheater. It’s dinner time, that’s why this place may seem like a ghost town.” Gavin nodded along to show he was listening, but refused to open in his mouth in fear that he might get sick again.

“This is bullshit. I’m too old for summer camp.” Geoffrey spat into the grass beside him, a scowl marring his face.

“I should have let the harpy kill you.” Burnie snapped as they crossed a small river, a set of cabins looming on the horizon. “Would have been easier on my blood pressure.”

Their inevitable argument was cut short as someone loudly cleared their throat. It was a boy about Geoffrey’s age, his arms crossed firmly against his chest as he stomped over from a peeling brown cabin that contrasted with the marble and stone cabins that surrounded it. He brushed some of the floppy brown hair out of his eyes and huffed again, confirming that he had the attention of the small group. “You interrupted my dinner for this?” He asked with a voice too deep for his age.

“Ryan, I know that your cabin is full but—“ Burnie started, but fell silent as Ryan’s face turned beet red.

“Full? FULL? I am chasing around unclaimed, snot-nosed kids all day and you expect me to take in two more, especially when one is covered is vomit and the other in tattoos. Forget it, stick them with another cabin.”

Gavin’s stomach churned and burned, doubling over his knees. “I’m going to be sick, excuse me.” With a few stumbling steps, he made it to the nearest bush and emptied the last of his guts. A warm heat washed over him, golden light dancing across his arms in spots.

“Well, can you take one in Ryan?” He heard Matt say behind him. With weary eyes, Gavin glanced up above him. Shimmering in the air was a miniature sun, and if there had been anything left in Gavin’s stomach, he would have been sick all over again.

“What the fuck is that?” He asked weakly, pointing up at the symbol.

“Looks like Apollo doesn’t want his son sleeping with the thieves.” Ryan muttered bitterly, sliding his glance toward Geoffrey. “We can take tattoos, I have a feeling he will fit right in.”

Gavin steadied his shaking feet. “Apollo? Like Greek God of the Sun, Apollo?”

“As I told you kiddo, demigod.” Matt motioned dramatically to Gavin’s skinny frame. “Now, let’s find you a clean shirt and I’ll show you to your cabin.”

Under the dark circles, the lines on his face, and sunken cheeks, the boy was too young to be wandering the street. He was hardly older than sixteen yet bore signs of age. He was a kid that had seen too much in his short years. The only feature about him that seemed bright were his eyes, an icy blue that stood out against his sallow features.

His stomach growled as he pocketed the money, heading out the other end of the alley toward the next street. The next street vendor was going to get a rather haggard customer.

A fluttering noise over his shoulder brought the boy to a halt. There was scattering of stones and trash, then followed by quick, light footsteps toward him. The thief whirled around to face a woman. She twitched with each step, beady black eyes focused on him. She hissed something under her breath as she advanced, and the kid couldn’t help but stumble backward, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Who the hell are you?” The boy spat, rubbing his eyes desperately as his vision swam. The image of the woman flickered, revealing something much more gruesome. Why the fuck did he throw out his anti-psych meds?

“The failed son.” She hissed, and once again the image flickered to show greasy feathers and a fearsome face. “Here to kill the failed son.” She lashed out at the thief in a blur. He raised his arm to protect his face and razor-sharp talons tore at his skin, sending scarlet droplets across the concrete.

Through the pain, the fingers of his other hand fumbled for his pocketknife. He was fast to slash out at the bird-woman, missing her ugly mug by a few inches. Bright red trails of blood streaked his tattooed arm, swirling with the rain onto the ground. “What the fuck?” He howled, his heart hammering against his chest.

The image of the woman had completely dissolved into some hellish nightmare before him. The bird-woman crouched only feet away, a twisted scowl across it’s face, talons stained red. She lunged again, ready to strike again. The thief braced himself for the impact, but it never came.

There was a loud crack as a black stick collided with the bird-woman’s head, knocking her to the side with a howl. “Get, get out of here!” A voice shouted, and a figure limped down the alley brandishing a crutch in the direction of the monster. It shrieked and dove for the stranger, who only struck it again with a swift swing. “I mean it, he’s under the protection of Camp Half Blood. Return to your master, get out of here.”

With one last swing of the crutch, the creature took to the air with a screech, disappearing into the rain.

The boy fell to the ground, clutching the bright red wounds, shaking with the pain that wracked his arm. “What the fuck was that?”

“A harpy. That’s really not a good sign.”

In better light, the figure was a solid man with curly brown hair plastered to his forehead with rain. A scraggly beard decorated his chin and he leaned heavily on the non-weaponized crutch, breathing hard. “You’re lucky I got here when I did, otherwise you would have been bird food.”

“Right.” The boy breathed, clutching his hands together, trying to get them to stop shaking. “And who the hell are you?”

“Burnie Burns, Camp Half Blood. I’m here to take you somewhere safe.” He wiped some water out of his beard, shaking out his hand with a look of disgust. “Geoff Ramsey, I presume.”

Geoff clenched his jaw, a new wave of anger passing over him. Who was this bastard? Ignoring the pain that seared through him with every moment, he rushed the stranger, pushing him up against the wall. The blade of the pocketknife was pressed up against his hairy throat. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I beg to differ.” Burnie growled. Out of Geoff’s sight, the stranger twisted his leg in a position that should have been impossible for a human. Then something collided with Geoff’s stomach that was definitely not a foot. He had been kicked enough times to know how it felt.

This was smaller, but more powerful as it sent Geoff sprawling onto the ground. If there had been anything in his stomach, it would have been spilled across the concrete at that moment as he dry heaved. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but they were lost in the rain that ran down his face. He tried to shout, to yell at his assailant, but all that came out was a series of coughs.

Looking up at Burnie, Geoff noticed that, just like the bird-woman, he wasn’t as human as he appeared. He had kicked his sneakers off to the side, showing off two shiny black hooves where his feet should have been. “Like ‘em?” The goat-man smirked, “Just got them waxed.”

“What do you want with me?” Geoff managed to squeeze out hoarsely before being sent into another coughing fit.

“As I said, I want to help you. That’s my job after all, chasing around after you bratty demigods.”

“A what?”

“You have a lot to learn kid.”

“There will never be enough alcohol in this world to bleach my brain of that image.” Burnie continued to moan, a hairy arm draped across his face in his typical dramatic fashion.

Gus was caught between laughing and screaming, so he smirked instead. “What’s the news?” There wasn’t time to faff about when it came to demigods. Burnie had been out for weeks with a group of satyrs tracking down the newest batch for the summer. The weeks had gone by in a constant stream of new camper. It had slowed to a trickle over the last few days.

“Well,” Burnie drew out the word as long as his breath allowed, already not a good sign. “I know we’ve gotten better at finding kids at adaptable ages, but it seems that two have slipped past our radar these last few years.”

If Gus could see Burnie’s hooves, they would be kicking the dirt.

“And how long have they been ‘past our radar’?”

“The one was simple enough to find. England, some British kid named Gavin. His mother was killed about a year ago by ‘burglars’ but you and I both know that’s bullshit. He’s in boarding school on inheritance. I already sent Matt after him.”

“You said two,”

“I’m getting there. This one is going to be tougher to find, but I think I have his scent.” Burnie fidgeted.

Gus was getting mad now. “There’s more to this kid than meets the eye, isn’t there?”