The taxi exited on Route 25A. We headed through the woods along the North Shore until a low ridge of hills appeared on our left. Annabeth told the driver to pull over on Farm Road 3.141, at the base of Half-Blood Hill.
The driver frowned. ‘There ain’t nothing here, miss. Are you sure you want out?”
“Yes, please.” Annabeth handed him a roll of mortal cash, and the driver decided not to argue.
Annabeth, Toph and I hiked to the crest of the hill. The young guardian dragon was dozing, coiled around the pine tree, but he lifted his coppery head as we approached and let Annabeth scratch under his chin. Steam hissed out of his nostrils like a kettle and he went cross-eyed with pleasure. Toph almost punched him when he nudged her.
“Hey, Peleus,” Annabeth said as she grabbed Toph’s fist. “Keeping everything safe?”
The last time I’d seen the dragon he’d been two meters long. Now he was at least twice that, and as thick around as the tree itself. Above his head, on the lowest branch of the pine tree, the Golden Fleece shimmered, its magic protecting the camp’s borders from invasion. The dragon seemed relaxed, like everything was okay. Below us, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful – green fields, forest, shiny white Greek buildings. The four-storey farmhouse we called the Big House sat proudly in the midst of the strawberry fields. To the north, past the beach, the Long Island Sound glittered in the sunlight.
Still… something felt wrong. There was tension in the air, as if the hill itself were holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.
We walked down into the valley and found the summer session in full swing. Most of the campers had arrived last Friday, so I already felt out of it. The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swooping over the woods on their pegasi. Smoke rose from the forges and hammers rang as kids made their own weapons for arts & crafts. The Athena and Demeter teams were having a chariot race around the track, and over at the canoe lake some kids in a Greek trireme were fighting a large orange sea serpent. A typical day at camp, well apart from the baked goods that should be everywhere.
The small stand that should be occupied was vacant. No cookies, cupcakes or small pastries there as the one who baked them was gone. I guess the Demeter or Apollo kids didn’t feel right opening it again. At first the harpies wouldn’t let anyone touch Y/N’s oven or ingredients and in time people just stopped trying. The harpies have their way of mourning I guess.
“I need to talk to Clarisse,” Annabeth said.
I stared at her as if she’d just said I need to eat a large smelly boot. “What for?”
Clarisse from the Ares cabin was one of my least favorite people. She was a mean, ungrateful bully. Her dad, the war god, wanted to kill me. She tried to beat me to a pulp on a regular basis. Other than that, she was just great.
“We’ve been working on something,” Annabeth said. ‘I’ll see you later.”
“Working on what?”
Annabeth glanced towards the forest.
“I’ll tell Chiron you’re here,” she said. “He’ll want to talk to you before the hearing, and I’ll tell him about Toph.”
“What hearing?”
But she jogged down the path towards the archery field without looking back.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Great talking with you, too.”
“She’s not happy with you.” Toph said bluntly, which was very… helpful.