올림푸스의 영웅들
올림푸스의 영웅들 Roman Campers Read the Lightning Thief
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labyrinth75 posted on Jun 07, 2011 at 07:39PM
Disclaimer I own nothing in this FanFic
Name: Roman Campers Read the Lightning Thief Rating: T Type: Adventure, Fantasy & (Hopefully) Comedy Characters: Roman Campers & PJO Characters I'll be posting a new chapter whenever i can because i'm writing another Forum on the Fan Camp Half-Blood club called the Heroes of Egypt. Hope you enjoy it. 
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올림푸스의 영웅들 23 replies
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PROLOGUE
One day at Camp SPQR, Jason Grace and his friends (Reyna, Bobby, Hazel & Dakota) where in the arena, were resting after tough practice fight. They were either drinking water, lying down, listening to there IPods or reading a book well that last one was just Bobby and it was called a day in the life of Daedalus.
Then as they were about to start fighting again, a voice came from the top of the arena “Well done, children that was a pretty intense fight, you should take a break more often.”
“Mercury, what are you doing here.” Jason asked.
“Sorry little bro, I didn’t mean to surprise you. And by the way hello my son.” The god said.
“Hi, dad and can you answer my friend’s question.” Dakota said.
“I’m here to deliver a parcel to a son of Minerva called Bobby.” Mercury replied.
“Thanks, Mercury.” Bobby said, grabbing the parcel.
“Your welcome. I must be off; Father wants me back on Olympus.” And with that the messenger god was flying into the clouds.
“What’s in the parcel, Brain Box?” Hazel asked.
“I don’t know,” Bobby replied. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Well, like I say, I you don’t what it is might as well find out.” Dakota said.
“I thought you normally say anything food is good even if it’s in the trash.” Hazel asked.
“I have two.”
Then Bobby ripped off the paper which was covering a book.
“Percy Jackson & the Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan.” Jason said.
“Hey, let’s read it.” Bobby said.
“Okay, it sounds cool.” Reyna said.
“Write so let’s get to Bobby’s cabin and start reading.” Hazel said.
“Wait, there’s a card with the book.” Bobby said, before anyone could leave the arena.
Dear, Bobby Martinez
This book is based on real live events so do not repeat not, go looking for the people mentioned in the book.
From, Labyrinth75
“Now we can go to my cabin.” Bobby said.
Then the five half-bloods walked out of the arena and headed straight towards the Minerva Cabin.
One day at Camp SPQR, Jason Grace and his friends (Reyna, Bobby, Hazel & Dakota) where in the arena, were resting after tough practice fight. They were either drinking water, lying down, listening to there IPods or reading a book well that last one was just Bobby and it was called a day in the life of Daedalus.
Then as they were about to start fighting again, a voice came from the top of the arena “Well done, children that was a pretty intense fight, you should take a break more often.”
“Mercury, what are you doing here.” Jason asked.
“Sorry little bro, I didn’t mean to surprise you. And by the way hello my son.” The god said.
“Hi, dad and can you answer my friend’s question.” Dakota said.
“I’m here to deliver a parcel to a son of Minerva called Bobby.” Mercury replied.
“Thanks, Mercury.” Bobby said, grabbing the parcel.
“Your welcome. I must be off; Father wants me back on Olympus.” And with that the messenger god was flying into the clouds.
“What’s in the parcel, Brain Box?” Hazel asked.
“I don’t know,” Bobby replied. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Well, like I say, I you don’t what it is might as well find out.” Dakota said.
“I thought you normally say anything food is good even if it’s in the trash.” Hazel asked.
“I have two.”
Then Bobby ripped off the paper which was covering a book.
“Percy Jackson & the Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan.” Jason said.
“Hey, let’s read it.” Bobby said.
“Okay, it sounds cool.” Reyna said.
“Write so let’s get to Bobby’s cabin and start reading.” Hazel said.
“Wait, there’s a card with the book.” Bobby said, before anyone could leave the arena.
Dear, Bobby Martinez
This book is based on real live events so do not repeat not, go looking for the people mentioned in the book.
From, Labyrinth75
“Now we can go to my cabin.” Bobby said.
Then the five half-bloods walked out of the arena and headed straight towards the Minerva Cabin.
@percyposiedon2-Senatus Populusque Romanus - The Senate and the People of Rome
I just used it because Jason had it on his Tatoo
I just used it because Jason had it on his Tatoo
last edited over a year ago
Here it is.
CHAPTER 1
“So, Bobby who’s reading first.” Dakota asked.
“My book, my rules, so I’m going first” He replied.
I Accidentally Vaporised My Pre-Algebra Teacher
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.
All the half-bloods nodded in agreement, though it could be fun at times, it definitely had some draw backs.
If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is
“Why have I got a feeling he is a really bad advice giver?” Reyna said, suddenly followed by Dakota laughing.
close this book right now. Believe what ever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.
“Like is said, bad at giving advice.” Reyna said.
“So, are we gonna do what this guy wants us to do.” Hazel asked.
“Not likely, we already know that were Half-Bloods.” Bobby said. Then all the Hazel nodded in agreement.
Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.
All the half-bloods nodded in agreement.
“At least he’s right about something.” Jason said.
If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think its fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.
“Anyone not a Half-Blood, raise your now.” Dakota said, sarcastically.
No one raised there hand. “Well, at least we’ve got that sorted.
But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.
“Okay, I think we already know that.” Jason said.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
“Never said you didn’t.” Reyna said.
My name is Percy Jackson.
“Hi, I’m Dakota son of Mercury” he said.
Then suddenly he got pelted with books from the Minerva Bookshelves.
“I was just playing around; jeez can’t you take a joke.”
“Yep, we can but just that was just sad.” Hazel replied.
I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.
“Hey, Bobby when’s the next time we can go see are parents at Olympus.” Reyna asked.
“Erm, I think it’s sometime around Christmas.” He answered.
Am I a troubled kid?
“All demigods are troubled, because of the more than frequent monster attacks and having Dyslexia.” Dakota said.
Yeah. You could say that.
“See, I was right, you hear that Bobby I was right.” He said, with joy.
“I really hate Mercury children.” He answered back.
I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan— twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.
I know—it sounds like torture.
“No, it doesn’t it sounds really interesting.” Bobby said, cheerfully.
“Yeah, for you it is what was the last book you devoured.” Dakota said.
“The Encyclopaedia of the complete Roman history and I didn’t eat it, I read it.” Bobby said, obviously annoyed.
Most Yancy field trips were.
But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.
“This Mr. Brunner must be full of thrills.” Dakota said.
“I thought you loved Latin.” Jason asked.
“I do, I’m just putting it out there.” He replied.
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armour and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.
“This guy is definitely cooler than he looks.” Hazel said.
“True dat, ghost queen, fist punch.” Dakota said.
“No…And by the way you’re more like the demigods in Greek Mythology than in Roman.” Hazel said.
“That’s mean.” He said.
“So, it’s completely true.”
I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.
Boy was I wrong.
See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway.
“I want to meet this guy, if he can do that without meaning it I would pay to see what he would do if he meant something.” Dakota said.
“Really?” Bobby asked.
“Yep, full price well… I might steel the money that they already had to pay me back like, but yeah.” He replied.
And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea. This trip, I was determined to be good.
All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover.
“Hey Dakota, I think we’ve found you a sister.” Reyna said.
“Okay, but who’s Grover and what’s she hitting him with?” he replied.
“Well, if you listen to me read you might find out.” Bobby said.
in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.
“Well, you’ve found out what she was hitting him with.” Bobby said.
Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled.
“Now, you’ve found out who he is and so does everyone else,” Reyna said. “Anymore questions Dakota.”
“Two.” He said.
“What are they?” Jason asked.
“Why has he got acne if he’s in sixth grade and where’s the bathroom in here.” He asked.
“He could have been kept behind a year or he could be a faun. And the bathroom is at the back of the room.” Bobby said.
“Thanks.” Dakota said, as he scurried towards the toilet.
He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.
“Definitely a Faun if he’s running for Enchiladas.” Reyna said.
“Kinda like Dakota and sometimes Gwen on Fridays then isn’t it.” Hazel said.
“Where is Gwen anyway?” Jason asked.
“Somewhere with Lupa should be back soon.” Bobby said.
Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.
“That always happens to us demigods if we have friends and enemies, we can almost never hit the enemy unless were at camp.” Reyna said.
Then Dakota came back and sat on a bunk. “What have I missed?”
“Not much.” Hazel said.
“I’m going to kill her,” I mumbled.
“You might want to but you never will get to.” Dakota said.
Grover tried to calm me down. “It’s okay. I like peanut butter.”
“I like peanut butter too.” Dakota said, cheerfully.
He dodged another piece of Nancy’s lunch.
“Good reflexes for a Faun.” Reyna said.
“That’s it.” I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.
“You’re already on probation,” he reminded me. “You know who’ll get blamed if anything happens.”
“Yep, he will.” Dakota said.
Looking back on it, I wish I’d decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there.
“He’d just deck a girl like that.” Hazel said.
“Well, he said he wished.” Bobby said.
In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.
“He’s about to meet his first Monster, I can feel it.” Jason said.
Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.
He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.
It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
“Well, archaeologist’s normally like to keep stuff in really good condition. Or there plastic models, so no one tries to steal the really artefacts.” Bobby said.
He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.
“For trying to learn? That’s stupid, she’s stupid.” Bobby said.
“I don’t think she’s an actual teacher,” Jason said. “I think that’s the monster.”
Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
“Although I’m not a son of Mars, I’ve got to say I love Harleys,” Dakota said. “But I wouldn’t like that old coot driving it towards me.”
“Who would like that?” Hazel asked.
“Possibly Mars or if Greek mythology was real Ares.” Bobby said.
From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.
“She’s definitely the monster.” Reyna said.
One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."
Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.
“Why, the heck is he telling them about Greek funeral art, not Roman, they’re much better than the Greek ones.” Bobby asked.
“By how much?” Dakota said.
“Forty percent to Greek Funeral art and Fifty percent to Roman.” He replied.
“What about the other ten percent left over?” Hazel asked.
“They’re both the same.” Bobby replied.
Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"
It came out louder than I meant it to.
The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.
“Uh, oh.” Dakota said.
"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"
“I doubt he did have a comment.” Hazel said.
My face was totally red. I said, "No, sir."
“See, no comment.” Hazel said, cheerfully which was strange because she is a daughter of Pluto.
Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?
“No, I can’t what about you Bobby.” Dakota said.
“Dakota…” Bobby said slowly. “We can’t see that stele that Brunner’s talking about.”
“Oh,” he replied. “I knew that I was just testing you.”
I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"
All the half-bloods shivered at the thought of the story of Kronus.
"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied.
“Ob course he wouldn’t be satisfied, its an unsatisfactory answer.” Bobby said.
"And he did this because ..."
"Well..." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was the king god,
“He’s right you know.” Dakota said.
“No he isn’t, Kronus was the king of the Titans,” Hazel said. “Bobby, pass me the book.”
Then Hazel whacked Dakota over the head with book. “That’s for knowing mythology is real and still saying Kronus was a god.” Then she passed Bobby the book back.
and—"
"God?" Mr. Brunner asked.
"Titan," I corrected myself. "And ... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead.
“What was Kronus, Dakota?” Hazel asked.
“Go-” he said, before he remembered. “Titan.”
“Good boy.” She replied.
And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"
"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.
"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."
Some snickers from the group.
“Why are they snickering at him, he got the question right.” Reyna asked.
Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"
"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
“Well, if you’re a demigod, in which this Percy guy seems to be. It will be indefinitely important to survive.” Jason said.
"Busted," Grover muttered.
"Shut up," Nancy hissed her face even brighter red than her hair.
At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.
I thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."
"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"
The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.
Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."
I knew that was coming.
I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"
Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go— intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.
“Wow, that’s the longest any of you guys have gone without talking.” Bobby said.
“Yeah, well you cut the silence, Brain Box.” Hazel said.
"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me.
"About the Titans?"
“Dakota, still needs to learn that one.” Jason said.
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
“He needs to learn that one too.” Reyna said.
“Hey…Hurtful.” Dakota moaned.
"Oh."
[b]"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."
“Who the heck is that guy, because he’s obviously not a faun or Lupa?” Bobby asked.
“Well, if we read the rest of the book we might find out.” Dakota said, imitating Bobby’s voice.
I wanted to get angry; this guy pushed me so hard.
“Getting pushed hard is for training to be a demigod.” Jason asked.
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armour and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped.
“That’s really easy, well I don’t mind if it’s Latin but if its in English it’s hard.” Bobby said.
But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C— in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.
“Hey, I have the same thing, so have my friends.” Dakota said.
“How the my dad did you survive Lupa’s test.” Hazel said.
“A Tooth, two elastic bands and…my backpack.” He replied.
I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.
“He could have considering we have no clue who that Brunner guy is.” Bobby said.
“How come I feel like I’m gonna meet this guy someday.” Jason thought.
He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.
The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.
Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York State had been weird since Christmas.
“Hey, Sparky how come your dad’s angry?” Dakota said.
“Don’t you remember summer 2005 someone stole my dad’s master bolt.” Jason replied.
We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
“Wow, your dad must have been really angry.” Dakota said.
“Wouldn’t your dad be angry if someone stole his sceptre?” Jason said.
“Guess so.”
Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.
Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
“Wonder if they succeeded?” Hazel asked.
“Probably not.” Reyna said.
"Detention?" Grover asked.
"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius."
“So, not a child of Minerva.” Reyna said.
“Obviously,” Bobby said. “In a fight of knowledge I would win.”
Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?"
“Huh, Random.” Dakota chuckled.
I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.
“More like it was because it was apple, I’m on Planet Junk food too.” Dakota said with a wink.
“Shut up, Dakota.” Hazel said.
I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.
“Is someone missing his mommy?” Dakota said.
“Oh, come on Dakota from what I’ve heard from your brothers you can’t go a night without crying that you’re not anywhere near your mom.” Bobby said.
Then Dakota fell silent, obviously embarrassed of what he was just told.
Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.
I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.
"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
“I really hate that girl.” Jason said while gritting his teeth.
I tried to stay cool. The school counsellor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.
“This is gonna be good.” Reyna said, she never liked bullies.
I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.
“She must be really scary to have as a teacher.” Bobby said.
“Wimp.” Dakota murmured it was meant to be silent but in the end it came out loud.
“Say’s the guy who taken four potty breaks right before the battle on Mount Tam.” Jason said sticking up for Bobby.
“I was nervous.”
Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"
"—the water—"
"—like it grabbed her—"
“Bobby you don’t think?” Reyna asked.
“It can’t be.” He replied.
“Can’t be what, what are you guys talking about.” Dakota asked.
“Were talking about who Percy’s dad is.” Hazel said.
“And we think Neptune.” Jason said.
I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.
“That means BUSTED!” Dakota shouted.
As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"
“Must’ve noticed his half-bloodish powers.” Hazel said.
"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."
“I bet he wishes he was that lucky.” Reyna said.
That wasn't the right thing to say.
"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.
"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."
I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.
“He’s a noble faun.” Jason said as he respected Grover’s courage.
She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.
"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.
"But—"
"You—will—stay—here."
Grover looked at me desperately.
"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."
"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."
Nancy Bobofit smirked.
I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare.
“Ah, I’m Terrified.” Dakota said, sarcastically.
Then I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.
How'd she get there so fast?
“Must have lost her Patience, she might have forgot to go human speed.” Jason said.
I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counsellor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.
I wasn't so sure.
I went after Mrs. Dodds.
Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.
“He noticed more stuff than Dakota ever could.” Reyna said.
“Hurtful.” Dakota moaned.
I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.
Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.
But apparently that wasn't the plan.
I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.
Except for us, the gallery was empty.
Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.
Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...
"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.
I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."
She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"
“I’m starting to think she’s not talking about getting the mean girl a T-shirt.” Dakota said.
“You’ve only just starting to think that.” Hazel questioned.
The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.
She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.
Everyone snorted darkly at that thought.
I said, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."
Thunder shook the building.
"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."
I didn't know what she was talking about.
All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room.
“It must have been that.” Dakota said.
“Idiot.” Bobby murmured.
Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.
“That’s a really good book, Dakota you should it someday.” Bobby insisted.
Dakota shivered at the thought.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Ma'am, I don't..."
"Your time is up," she hissed.
Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shrivelled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.
Then things got even stranger.
Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.
"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.
Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.
With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore.
It was a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.
Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.
My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.
She snarled, "Die, honey!"
“She can drop the honey thing now.” Hazel said, annoyed.
And she flew straight at me.
Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.
The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!
“That was easy.” Reyna said.
Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulphur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.
I was alone.
There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.
"I wonder if that Grover guy’s still letting the Mist affect Percy after that?" Hazel said, rolling her eyes.
Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.
My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.
“I wonder what magic mushrooms taste like.” Dakota said.
“Trust me, there horrible.” Jason replied.
Had I imagined the whole thing?
“No, no you haven’t.” Bobby said.
I went back outside.
It had started to rain.
Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."
I said, "Who?"
"Our teacher. Duh!"
I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about.
She just rolled her eyes and turned away.
I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.
He said, "Who?"
“That must’ve been Annoying.” Jason said.
But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me.
“He’s a terrible liar.” Reyna said.
"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious."
Thunder boomed overhead.
I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.
I went over to him.
He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."
Everyone chuckled at that.
I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.
"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"
He stared at me blankly. "Who?"
"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."
He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"
“End of Chapter, who wants to read next?” Bobby asked.
“I will,” a girl said. “What are we reading?”
“Hi Gwen, were reading Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.” Bobby said, passing her the book.
“Okay.” Gwen said.
CHAPTER 1
“So, Bobby who’s reading first.” Dakota asked.
“My book, my rules, so I’m going first” He replied.
I Accidentally Vaporised My Pre-Algebra Teacher
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.
All the half-bloods nodded in agreement, though it could be fun at times, it definitely had some draw backs.
If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is
“Why have I got a feeling he is a really bad advice giver?” Reyna said, suddenly followed by Dakota laughing.
close this book right now. Believe what ever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.
“Like is said, bad at giving advice.” Reyna said.
“So, are we gonna do what this guy wants us to do.” Hazel asked.
“Not likely, we already know that were Half-Bloods.” Bobby said. Then all the Hazel nodded in agreement.
Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.
All the half-bloods nodded in agreement.
“At least he’s right about something.” Jason said.
If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think its fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.
“Anyone not a Half-Blood, raise your now.” Dakota said, sarcastically.
No one raised there hand. “Well, at least we’ve got that sorted.
But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.
“Okay, I think we already know that.” Jason said.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
“Never said you didn’t.” Reyna said.
My name is Percy Jackson.
“Hi, I’m Dakota son of Mercury” he said.
Then suddenly he got pelted with books from the Minerva Bookshelves.
“I was just playing around; jeez can’t you take a joke.”
“Yep, we can but just that was just sad.” Hazel replied.
I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.
“Hey, Bobby when’s the next time we can go see are parents at Olympus.” Reyna asked.
“Erm, I think it’s sometime around Christmas.” He answered.
Am I a troubled kid?
“All demigods are troubled, because of the more than frequent monster attacks and having Dyslexia.” Dakota said.
Yeah. You could say that.
“See, I was right, you hear that Bobby I was right.” He said, with joy.
“I really hate Mercury children.” He answered back.
I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan— twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.
I know—it sounds like torture.
“No, it doesn’t it sounds really interesting.” Bobby said, cheerfully.
“Yeah, for you it is what was the last book you devoured.” Dakota said.
“The Encyclopaedia of the complete Roman history and I didn’t eat it, I read it.” Bobby said, obviously annoyed.
Most Yancy field trips were.
But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.
“This Mr. Brunner must be full of thrills.” Dakota said.
“I thought you loved Latin.” Jason asked.
“I do, I’m just putting it out there.” He replied.
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armour and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.
“This guy is definitely cooler than he looks.” Hazel said.
“True dat, ghost queen, fist punch.” Dakota said.
“No…And by the way you’re more like the demigods in Greek Mythology than in Roman.” Hazel said.
“That’s mean.” He said.
“So, it’s completely true.”
I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.
Boy was I wrong.
See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway.
“I want to meet this guy, if he can do that without meaning it I would pay to see what he would do if he meant something.” Dakota said.
“Really?” Bobby asked.
“Yep, full price well… I might steel the money that they already had to pay me back like, but yeah.” He replied.
And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea. This trip, I was determined to be good.
All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover.
“Hey Dakota, I think we’ve found you a sister.” Reyna said.
“Okay, but who’s Grover and what’s she hitting him with?” he replied.
“Well, if you listen to me read you might find out.” Bobby said.
in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.
“Well, you’ve found out what she was hitting him with.” Bobby said.
Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled.
“Now, you’ve found out who he is and so does everyone else,” Reyna said. “Anymore questions Dakota.”
“Two.” He said.
“What are they?” Jason asked.
“Why has he got acne if he’s in sixth grade and where’s the bathroom in here.” He asked.
“He could have been kept behind a year or he could be a faun. And the bathroom is at the back of the room.” Bobby said.
“Thanks.” Dakota said, as he scurried towards the toilet.
He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.
“Definitely a Faun if he’s running for Enchiladas.” Reyna said.
“Kinda like Dakota and sometimes Gwen on Fridays then isn’t it.” Hazel said.
“Where is Gwen anyway?” Jason asked.
“Somewhere with Lupa should be back soon.” Bobby said.
Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.
“That always happens to us demigods if we have friends and enemies, we can almost never hit the enemy unless were at camp.” Reyna said.
Then Dakota came back and sat on a bunk. “What have I missed?”
“Not much.” Hazel said.
“I’m going to kill her,” I mumbled.
“You might want to but you never will get to.” Dakota said.
Grover tried to calm me down. “It’s okay. I like peanut butter.”
“I like peanut butter too.” Dakota said, cheerfully.
He dodged another piece of Nancy’s lunch.
“Good reflexes for a Faun.” Reyna said.
“That’s it.” I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.
“You’re already on probation,” he reminded me. “You know who’ll get blamed if anything happens.”
“Yep, he will.” Dakota said.
Looking back on it, I wish I’d decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there.
“He’d just deck a girl like that.” Hazel said.
“Well, he said he wished.” Bobby said.
In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.
“He’s about to meet his first Monster, I can feel it.” Jason said.
Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.
He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.
It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
“Well, archaeologist’s normally like to keep stuff in really good condition. Or there plastic models, so no one tries to steal the really artefacts.” Bobby said.
He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.
“For trying to learn? That’s stupid, she’s stupid.” Bobby said.
“I don’t think she’s an actual teacher,” Jason said. “I think that’s the monster.”
Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
“Although I’m not a son of Mars, I’ve got to say I love Harleys,” Dakota said. “But I wouldn’t like that old coot driving it towards me.”
“Who would like that?” Hazel asked.
“Possibly Mars or if Greek mythology was real Ares.” Bobby said.
From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.
“She’s definitely the monster.” Reyna said.
One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."
Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.
“Why, the heck is he telling them about Greek funeral art, not Roman, they’re much better than the Greek ones.” Bobby asked.
“By how much?” Dakota said.
“Forty percent to Greek Funeral art and Fifty percent to Roman.” He replied.
“What about the other ten percent left over?” Hazel asked.
“They’re both the same.” Bobby replied.
Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"
It came out louder than I meant it to.
The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.
“Uh, oh.” Dakota said.
"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"
“I doubt he did have a comment.” Hazel said.
My face was totally red. I said, "No, sir."
“See, no comment.” Hazel said, cheerfully which was strange because she is a daughter of Pluto.
Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?
“No, I can’t what about you Bobby.” Dakota said.
“Dakota…” Bobby said slowly. “We can’t see that stele that Brunner’s talking about.”
“Oh,” he replied. “I knew that I was just testing you.”
I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"
All the half-bloods shivered at the thought of the story of Kronus.
"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied.
“Ob course he wouldn’t be satisfied, its an unsatisfactory answer.” Bobby said.
"And he did this because ..."
"Well..." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was the king god,
“He’s right you know.” Dakota said.
“No he isn’t, Kronus was the king of the Titans,” Hazel said. “Bobby, pass me the book.”
Then Hazel whacked Dakota over the head with book. “That’s for knowing mythology is real and still saying Kronus was a god.” Then she passed Bobby the book back.
and—"
"God?" Mr. Brunner asked.
"Titan," I corrected myself. "And ... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead.
“What was Kronus, Dakota?” Hazel asked.
“Go-” he said, before he remembered. “Titan.”
“Good boy.” She replied.
And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"
"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.
"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."
Some snickers from the group.
“Why are they snickering at him, he got the question right.” Reyna asked.
Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"
"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
“Well, if you’re a demigod, in which this Percy guy seems to be. It will be indefinitely important to survive.” Jason said.
"Busted," Grover muttered.
"Shut up," Nancy hissed her face even brighter red than her hair.
At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.
I thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."
"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"
The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.
Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."
I knew that was coming.
I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"
Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go— intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.
“Wow, that’s the longest any of you guys have gone without talking.” Bobby said.
“Yeah, well you cut the silence, Brain Box.” Hazel said.
"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me.
"About the Titans?"
“Dakota, still needs to learn that one.” Jason said.
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
“He needs to learn that one too.” Reyna said.
“Hey…Hurtful.” Dakota moaned.
"Oh."
[b]"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."
“Who the heck is that guy, because he’s obviously not a faun or Lupa?” Bobby asked.
“Well, if we read the rest of the book we might find out.” Dakota said, imitating Bobby’s voice.
I wanted to get angry; this guy pushed me so hard.
“Getting pushed hard is for training to be a demigod.” Jason asked.
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armour and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped.
“That’s really easy, well I don’t mind if it’s Latin but if its in English it’s hard.” Bobby said.
But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C— in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.
“Hey, I have the same thing, so have my friends.” Dakota said.
“How the my dad did you survive Lupa’s test.” Hazel said.
“A Tooth, two elastic bands and…my backpack.” He replied.
I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.
“He could have considering we have no clue who that Brunner guy is.” Bobby said.
“How come I feel like I’m gonna meet this guy someday.” Jason thought.
He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.
The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.
Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York State had been weird since Christmas.
“Hey, Sparky how come your dad’s angry?” Dakota said.
“Don’t you remember summer 2005 someone stole my dad’s master bolt.” Jason replied.
We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
“Wow, your dad must have been really angry.” Dakota said.
“Wouldn’t your dad be angry if someone stole his sceptre?” Jason said.
“Guess so.”
Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.
Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
“Wonder if they succeeded?” Hazel asked.
“Probably not.” Reyna said.
"Detention?" Grover asked.
"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius."
“So, not a child of Minerva.” Reyna said.
“Obviously,” Bobby said. “In a fight of knowledge I would win.”
Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?"
“Huh, Random.” Dakota chuckled.
I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.
“More like it was because it was apple, I’m on Planet Junk food too.” Dakota said with a wink.
“Shut up, Dakota.” Hazel said.
I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.
“Is someone missing his mommy?” Dakota said.
“Oh, come on Dakota from what I’ve heard from your brothers you can’t go a night without crying that you’re not anywhere near your mom.” Bobby said.
Then Dakota fell silent, obviously embarrassed of what he was just told.
Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.
I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.
"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
“I really hate that girl.” Jason said while gritting his teeth.
I tried to stay cool. The school counsellor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.
“This is gonna be good.” Reyna said, she never liked bullies.
I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.
“She must be really scary to have as a teacher.” Bobby said.
“Wimp.” Dakota murmured it was meant to be silent but in the end it came out loud.
“Say’s the guy who taken four potty breaks right before the battle on Mount Tam.” Jason said sticking up for Bobby.
“I was nervous.”
Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"
"—the water—"
"—like it grabbed her—"
“Bobby you don’t think?” Reyna asked.
“It can’t be.” He replied.
“Can’t be what, what are you guys talking about.” Dakota asked.
“Were talking about who Percy’s dad is.” Hazel said.
“And we think Neptune.” Jason said.
I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.
“That means BUSTED!” Dakota shouted.
As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"
“Must’ve noticed his half-bloodish powers.” Hazel said.
"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."
“I bet he wishes he was that lucky.” Reyna said.
That wasn't the right thing to say.
"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.
"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."
I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.
“He’s a noble faun.” Jason said as he respected Grover’s courage.
She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.
"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.
"But—"
"You—will—stay—here."
Grover looked at me desperately.
"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."
"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."
Nancy Bobofit smirked.
I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare.
“Ah, I’m Terrified.” Dakota said, sarcastically.
Then I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.
How'd she get there so fast?
“Must have lost her Patience, she might have forgot to go human speed.” Jason said.
I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counsellor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.
I wasn't so sure.
I went after Mrs. Dodds.
Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.
“He noticed more stuff than Dakota ever could.” Reyna said.
“Hurtful.” Dakota moaned.
I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.
Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.
But apparently that wasn't the plan.
I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.
Except for us, the gallery was empty.
Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.
Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...
"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.
I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."
She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"
“I’m starting to think she’s not talking about getting the mean girl a T-shirt.” Dakota said.
“You’ve only just starting to think that.” Hazel questioned.
The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.
She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.
Everyone snorted darkly at that thought.
I said, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."
Thunder shook the building.
"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."
I didn't know what she was talking about.
All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room.
“It must have been that.” Dakota said.
“Idiot.” Bobby murmured.
Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.
“That’s a really good book, Dakota you should it someday.” Bobby insisted.
Dakota shivered at the thought.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Ma'am, I don't..."
"Your time is up," she hissed.
Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shrivelled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.
Then things got even stranger.
Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.
"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.
Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.
With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore.
It was a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.
Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.
My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.
She snarled, "Die, honey!"
“She can drop the honey thing now.” Hazel said, annoyed.
And she flew straight at me.
Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.
The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!
“That was easy.” Reyna said.
Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulphur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.
I was alone.
There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.
"I wonder if that Grover guy’s still letting the Mist affect Percy after that?" Hazel said, rolling her eyes.
Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.
My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.
“I wonder what magic mushrooms taste like.” Dakota said.
“Trust me, there horrible.” Jason replied.
Had I imagined the whole thing?
“No, no you haven’t.” Bobby said.
I went back outside.
It had started to rain.
Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."
I said, "Who?"
"Our teacher. Duh!"
I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about.
She just rolled her eyes and turned away.
I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.
He said, "Who?"
“That must’ve been Annoying.” Jason said.
But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me.
“He’s a terrible liar.” Reyna said.
"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious."
Thunder boomed overhead.
I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.
I went over to him.
He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."
Everyone chuckled at that.
I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.
"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"
He stared at me blankly. "Who?"
"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."
He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"
“End of Chapter, who wants to read next?” Bobby asked.
“I will,” a girl said. “What are we reading?”
“Hi Gwen, were reading Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.” Bobby said, passing her the book.
“Okay.” Gwen said.
AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME
Really good but there are some big gaps that where they could have said something. I really like it though.
