Young Writers Society

It should have been routine by now. Every time we were sent out, something different happened. Why couldn’t things be the same?

I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t plan it the same way every time. We had a set plan, that never really worked. Most of it, I’m proud to say, is always improvisation on my part, or that of my friends Chuck and Moss.

Sorry about that. My name is Gwen. I’ve been at camp for only a year, but it’s been the hardest year this camp has ever seen. Many, including my self, are surprised that we're still alive after the titan war. It’s been a few months since it ended officially. Three months exactly, as a matter of fact: It’s November 18th. And things are getting hectic at camp. One of the campers went missing a few weeks ago, and he must have been really important. His name was Percy Jackson. I remember he was there for all of the war council meetings, and led all of the big battles, and always, ALWAYS came out unscratched. He must’ve been a serious fighter, because a lot of the campers were freaking out at his disappearance, especially the Athena head counselor, Annabeth. As well as his disappearance, a ton of new half-bloods have been popping up out of nowhere, and the camp seekers are on double time bringing them in.

Which brings me back to my mission. It is and is always as follows: Moss comes back from a seeker mission proclaiming that he has found one or more half-bloods, and Chuck and I are always there to help him. Chuck and I are best friends, despite many things. We have few things in common. He’s kind of a geek, with his long hair in what he calls an “Elrond Plait” which is just a fancy term for a braid. He calls it that because he’s obsessed with “the Lord of the Rings”. So much so, he crafts magic items based off of them. He made a staff that is a replica of Gandalf the Grey’s staff, and it’s actually quite powerful. It doesn’t do the same thing, though. He talks about Lord of the Rings so much that I actually learn a lot from it. Gandalf the Grey summoned fire with his staff. Chucks staff is good for a lot of things, but mainly nature and weather magic. He made it using a splinter donated from every tree in the border of camp half-blood, donated by the dryads, and a white crystal on top that glowed when he used it. It looked gnarled and cool, like a real wizards staff should look. He also made several rings, one of which turns you invisible. The rest are linked together, so that you can communicate through them. This was yet another of his subtle homages to Tolkien’s books. His friend Markus makes celestial bronze replica’s of all of the swords from the movies. Other than that, he’s just a short, lanky nerd. Oh, and also he’s the son of Hecate, the goddess of magic. In the year he came here, he’s become more powerful in the ways of magic even then the Hecate head counselor, Lou Ellen. He even wears a grey robe, with many glowing glyphs and runes all over it. He’s probably the most useful camper to have on a quest. But his friends are really weird.

As for me, I’m not exactly normal myself. My name is Gwendolyn Jace, the daughter of Hermes. I’m obnoxious, and annoying at times. I like to think that I’m funny, but that’s one of those things that is a matter of opinion from those around you. I steal stuff, and shoot stuff. I’m not all that good with a sword, so I use a bow and arrows instead. However, I couldn’t bring anything that couldn’t be concealed, especially if it’s a weapon. So instead I have my dagger on me, a 10 inch fighting dagger made of Celestial bronze, one of many very powerful metals used to kill monsters.

But I’ve been rambling. The mission was to go and pick up a half blood from some boarding school in New Hampshire, and I was supposed to meet Chuck and Moss near Thalia’s Pine. I figured that Chuck wouldn’t be there on time unless I picked him up from his cabin, so I went to fetch him.

If you haven’t seen Hecate’s cabin, (I stopped referring them by number because of how many there are now) It’s like a small turret, perfectly round, covered in moss, and glowing with multicolored runes, like glowing arcane graffiti. The door had a brass doorknob in the shape of a Dog, Hecate’s sacred animal. I learned from experience that it would bite you if you didn’t give it a treat first, so I threw it a biscuit. I often found myself doing this, so I kept spares on me pretty often. The door swung open.

“Chuck home?” I called into the house. It was dark except for the glow of torches that lit the cabin with green purple flames.

“He’s upstairs.” Said a girl, the head counselor Lou Ellen. “Recruiting?”

“Yeah, can you grab him?”

“Why don’t you just use the ring he gave you?” she asked. She had a matching ring, one of the 20 that he made. He kept the ring of invisibility, and others throughout the camp had the others, including, me, everyone in his cabin, and Chiron. All of the others he stored in individual boxes, in case they needed to be distributed.

I looked down at my feet. “I don’t know how to work it.” I said. It can’t have been hard, because Chuck called me on it all the time. I just couldn’t seem to work it.

“Still?” she grinned incredulously. “He’ll be right down.” She said, fingering the ring on her pointer finger. Mine was on my right middle finger. There it wouldn’t get in the way when I shot. I’m also left handed.

Sure enough he was on his way, his staff in his right hand, grinning at me. “You still can’t work the ring?” he said. “Just concentrate! Think of me, and I'll be there!” he added dramatically. I laughed.

“We’ll figure that out later. Right now, Moss is waiting for us by the tree.”

Chuck groaned. “We did this literally two days ago. We’ll need to build another camp soon!” he said.

Moss was waiting for us, up by the tree where he always is, laying face up in the grass, deep in thought. He was probably overthinking things, again, but still. He had reason. The boarding school we were going to was a high school, which meant nobody there was particularly young. At least, all of them were older than 13, which was weird. Nowadays, all half-bloods were claimed by their thirteenth birthday. The fact that one was found at a high school meant that either the gods were finding it hard to keep up, or that was a smart 13 year old.

I forgot to mention: Moss is a Satyr. From the waist up, he looks like a classic comic store employee, complete with goatee, skinny frame, and very bushy brown hair almost like an Afro. Below that, however, he had furry legs and hindquarters, and a goat’s tail and hooves. If you looked closer at his head, you’d see the lumps of goat horns just starting to pop up.

He didn’t acknowledge us immediately as we approached. Instead he just muttered. “High school… Different from the other new recruits. Harder too predict…” he said.

“I am sure that your predictions will be as accurate as they always are, Moss” said Chuck. This was a joke in and of itself, since his “predictions” were only right 70% of the time. Still though, that’s pretty darn accurate. He had this idea that he was able to predict a half-bloods godly parent without anything but looking at him. Or her. I laughed.

“And how accurate are they always, pray tell?” I said. Chuck liked to talk weird, and I liked to make fun of him for it. It was all in fun, I assure you.

Moss ignored this jest. Instead, he got to his hooves and put an acorn-cap to his lips, blowing hard. The sound was that of a very loud, high pitched whistle. When he put the acorn cap down, another whistle could be heard from the West, from the stables. Three pegasi flew over the big house towards us. One was a buckskin stallion named Anigo, my personal favorite. With him were two other pegasi, a grey stallion named Shadowfax, and a bay mare named Sparkles. Chuck took Shadowfax, and Moss jumped on Sparkles. I mounted Anigo, and we were off towards New Hampshire.

On the way there, Moss briefed us in the same way he always did: Using very big words for the sake of pretending that he knew what they meant.

“The plan will be orchestrated as follows,” he said dramatically. “The Pegasi will drop us off at Kenton High School, which I have elected to remind you for the fourth time is also a boarding school. The grounds are enormous, encircling many horse pastures, and a dairy farm.”

Chuck interrupted him. “A school with a farm? What are the kids learning?”

“A wealthy variety of things.” Said Moss, although he was probably very prejudiced, being a satyr. He probably held nature to be the most important lesson. “I won’t spoil it. I think there are brochures.” He said. “The best brochures I’ve ever tasted.”

“Continue.” I said dryly. Moss nodded, maybe embarrassed, but probably not.

“The pegasi will drop us off, and we will go in and extract the Demigod. She is reported to be sixteen years old, and her name is Tracy Ward.”

“So how are we picking her up? It’s almost four o’clock. There’s no way a school could be open that long.” Chuck said.

“It is a boarding school. They’ll still be there.” I said.

“Even so, I chose today because there will be a social gathering, a “Coffee House” as it is called.” He said. I could tell he was hankering for some coffee. This was no accident.

“Is that like a fundraiser?” I asked.

“No,” said Moss. “They’re like talent shows, but with less talent. At least in my experience with high school musicians such is the case.” He pointed down and to the right. “There it is. We’ll park in the horse pastures.”

“How are we getting back to camp?” Chuck asked. “Are the pegasi staying?” Good call I thought. I would have totally forgotten to plan that far ahead.

“No, but a chariot will be waiting for us out front. It’s one of those magic chariots. It’ll get us back to camp in seconds.”

“Why didn’t we just take that on the way here?” I asked.

“It’s unreliable. It would be smarter to have a means of hasty retreat, rather than get there quickly and then not have a quick means back to camp.” Said Moss. I found it hard to remember how smart my friends could be. I had known them both since I got to camp. Moss had taken Chuck and I to camp at the same time. We were the same age and everything. I got claimed first, since my dad is Hermes, an Olympian. Chuck’s mom sided with the Titans during the war, and he had a brother who was still mad at the gods. He wasn’t claimed until after the titan war, though we both kind of knew who his mom was.

We landed in the horse pasture, where a bunch of surprised horses looked up at us, ears pointed forward. The pegasi took off as soon as we dismounted, and we walked around piles of horse dung to get to the fence that would lead us to the school. Behind it a man was yelling at a cage that kept jumping, and was making noises like an angry bull. The cage itself was covered in candles, incense, car fresheners, and a lot of other scented goods. Moss had to take a detour as we went around; his nose is many times more sensitive than humans noses, so it made sense.

“Not now, Minnie!” said the man. He was grey haired, wearing a stained white t-shirt, and work jeans. Whatever was in the cage made a loud MOO! “I don’t care what’cha smellin’, boy, you ain’t gettin out till a little later.” He looked straight at us, and for a minute he paused. “Now what’re you doing outside? Coffee house’s inside! You’ll have to go in the front.”

“What’s in that cage?” Chuck asked.

The man shrugged. “What are you wearing? Why’s the sky blue? Those are all good questions.” Said the old farmer guy. I stifled a laugh.

“Seriously though, why is it covered in air fresheners?” said Chuck.

The farmer guy thought for a moment, as though he couldn’t remember why. “It’s because we have this one student who’s stomach get’s queasy when he goes near cows, but he still insists on talkin’ with the cows. Beats me why he does it. Now git! You’re not supposed to be out here.” He said. Chuck went to look in the cage, and it went berserk. “Don’t look inside!” said the farmer, almost worriedly. “Minnie don’t like people. He’d rip your arm right off!”

“Minnie?”

“Git your butt inside, kids.” He said quickly, shooing us towards the front of the building. Minnie continued to thrash against his cage, and the man continued to yell at it. “You’ll get let out later. Patience…” he said, looking back at us and grinning. “Go on, now.”

We went back to Moss, who was already half way to the front of the building. Chuck looked a little shaken still about the man’s comment on his wizards robe. Moss looked like he was about to have the most dramatic coughing fit ever.

“Did you smell that thing?” he said, holding his nose. “Absolutely disgusting!”

Chuck and I laughed. Moss looked at us with a mixture of annoyance and envy, as though he wished he could withstand such awful odors as we could.

“C’mon, stomach of steel.” Chuck said. “Let’s go get some coffee.” That seemed to make moss feel better, especially since when we got to the front door he ran right in and started munching on one of the brochures. The front desk was unmanned, thank the gods. It was like a granite counter top with nametags on it, and computers behind it. I could picture some guy with a Bluetooth headset sitting behind it pretending to be cheerful. That made me laugh. But Chuck exclaimed suddenly.

“Gwen! Come check this out!” he said, holding a brochure in front of him. “Horseback riding? H.E.M.A? Shooting Sports? This is the coolest boarding school ever!”

“It still has nothing on Camp Half Blood.” I said, but he was right. For mortal schools, it was very cool. “Check it out! Blacksmithing!” But then I was interrupted by the sound of an electric guitar playing a deep, heavy power chord riff very loudly .

“Coffee anyone?” said Chuck, grinning.

“I’m up for it.” Moss said.

“I wanna see how the mortals react to your robe, Chuck.” I said honestly.

“Shut up.” He said. He was still smiling though.

We made our way into what could only be the Cafeteria, judging by the way everything was laid out. Tables were loaded with kids, and windows facing the cow pastures gave us a lovely view of the fields. They were pretty, except for you could still see the old farmer dude yelling at a cage that kept shaking.

“Who we looking for, Moss?” said Chuck.

“I told you, her name is Tracy Ward.”

“What does she look like?” I asked.

“Oh, she’s… There!” he pointed to a table at the edge of the room by the window, at which only two people were sitting. One of them was a pretty black haired girl, who was laughing at something the guy across from her had said. She wore a grey shirt and jeans, and always seemed to be moving around. She obviously talked with her hands a lot, which was probably a product of the ADHD that we half-bloods share.

The guy she was talking with was laughing too. He was, for lack of a better word, intimidating. I couldn’t place why, but he was muscular. Not huge, but athletic. He looked like the kind of guy who could tire out a wolf pack. He, too, wore a grey shirt, but his had H.E.M.A across the back. I remember vaguely from the brochure that that stood for Historical European Martial Arts. His hair was just under shoulder length, swept to his right like a skater might where his. He didn’t look like a skater, though. He looked like a soldier. He looked up, right at Moss, who had put on pants and fake feet, and then Chuck, and then me.

“Well, go on.” Moss said, making his way towards the smell of coffee. “You go collect her. I’ll stake out the perimeter.”

I wanted to yell No, you will not. But my better judgment won over. Chuck and I went over to Tracy and her friend. As we did, kids around us gawked at Chuck and his staff. It was actually kind of funny. One guy went “What’s up, Dumbledore!” and I actually did laugh.

When we got there, the guy in the H.E.M.A shirt looked up immediately. If it weren’t for Chuck’s obliviousness to social cues, nobody would have spoken.

“Are you Tracy Ward?” he said, and the girl looked up.

“Um… yeah?” she said. The guy next to her just looked up at us thoughtfully. I saw him mouth to himself as he read my shirt the words Camp Half Blood.

“Where here to take you somewhere safe. We’ll explain on the way.” He said. Honestly, all awkwardness ran off of Chuck like water off a raincoat. He just didn’t get it. “Come with us.”

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, worried.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, if that’s what you’re asking. But you are in danger. We have to go.” All the while, the guy was looking out the window, as the old guy fumbled with the cage door, trying to open it as it bucked. I paid him no heed.

“Um, okay?” she said. She got to her feet, and so did her friend.

“No, not you.” Chuck said. “You’d be safer here.”

“I don’t care.” He said. “I don’t trust you guys.” I tried not to look into his eyes. I looked back out the window, focusing on the cows…

“No, really.” Chuck said. “You can’t come with us.”

“I’ll stay if Tracy stays.” He said. “I’m not asking permission. If Tracy goes, so do I.”

“What are you, her bodyguard?”

“No.” he said, unembarrassed. “I’m her friend.”

Chuck shook his head in exasperation. “Look, mortals can’t go where we are going.” He said.

“Mortals?” Tracy asked. “Mike, you’d better come with. These guys are crazy.”

I was looking at my feet when I heard this, and I snapped up. “No we’re not!”

“She’s right. I don’t think they’re crazy.” Said the guy called Mike. He tensed up suddenly, ready to tackle someone.

Chuck was taken aback. “What makes you say tha—“ but he didn’t finish. Mike had tackled Tracy, Chuck and I to the ground as the sound of glass shattering and a roar echoed through the cafeteria. There was another crash behind us, and we all got to our feet. I looked at what remained of the window—a hole in the wall. I noticed Minnie’s cage was open. Minnie? It took Mike a split second less to make the connection then it did for me.

“Minotaur.” He said. “Who are you people?” he asked. Tracy was brushing herself off. Glass was all over the floor around us. If not for the mortal, Mike, we’d have been totally squashed.

“You can see it?” Chuck said incredulously.

“Can’t you?” He said. “If you can’t see it, it’s right there.” He pointed at the Minotaur, which was wearing a loincloth that looked suspiciously like it was made from a prison jumpsuit. It roared again, and the sound was like a man yelling mixed with a moo and a loud burp. A voice whispered in my head. Chuck! Gwen! I saw the Minotaur! The Chariot is out front! Hurry!

Moss was using the rings to communicate. Chuck grabbed Tracy by the arm.

“C’mon! We gotta go!” he said. Mike sprinted after us, as the Minotaur charged into a table behind us. Odds are the mortals just saw a regular bull. I envied them for that. Mike, however…

“Mike, is it?” Chuck said as they ran through the hallway that went along the front of the building to the door.

“Yeah.” He said. “Why are you wearing—“

“You can see through the mist?” Chuck said. We were almost to the door.

“The who?”

“The mist that keeps mortals oblivious to monsters.”

“I would imagine that explains why I keep seeing stuff.” He said calmly. I’d be relieved too, if I’d just learned that I wasn’t insane. Still though, I’d almost rather find out that the monsters were my imagination after having to fight them.

“MOOOOO!” said the Minotaur, who was gaining distance behind us. We had just burst through the front doors when there was a loud Crash as the Minotaur demolished the front desk. We reached the chariot a few seconds later. Chuck didn’t have time to tell Mike he couldn’t come with, so he just shoved him in with Tracy and I. The chariot had a roof and everything. It was more of a wagon, really, complete with cup holders and AC. For all the world it looked like the inside of a Van.

“Who’s this?” Moss asked.

“Mike.” Said Chuck. “He’s mortal. He can see through the mist though.”

“Someone explain something to me! Please!” Tracy said frantically. She squealed again as there was a loud bump as a dent formed in the ceiling of the chariot.

“Hold on!” Moss said from the front, and the Chariot lurched into motion so hard it drove me and Mike right into Chuck, who said “ow.”

“Ok, explain.” She said. She was looking at Chuck and I.

“Have you ever heard any of the Greek Myths?” Chuck asked.

“Yes!” Stacy exclaimed. “I love Greek myths! Mike thinks Norse myths are more interesting, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.” She looked at me as though expecting me to agree with her.

“Well, they happened. All of them. Monsters, gods, goddesses, titans… They all exist. Tracy, you know who both your birthparents are?” He asked. Tracy shook her head.

“Just my mom.”

“The reason we found you is because your dad is a Greek God. Monsters can smell that, and they attack and kill demigods.” He said. “Half god, half mortal.”

“That explains those giant dogs!” She said to mike.

“And the Jotun.” Said Mike, so that it was pronounced “yotin”

“It WASN’T A JOTUN. IT WAS A SASQUATCH.” Said Tracy. Just then, the chariot stopped.

“We’re here!” said Chuck cheerfully as he opened up the door. No sooner had he done so than a hairy arm reached down and ripped the door off. I jumped for the other door, and flung it open.

“GO!” I yelled, and we all sprinted out. “Go to that big pine tree!” I said.

“The one with the dragon?” Mike called back.

“Ignore the dragon!” I said. “He’s on our side.”

“He’s sleeping.” Tracy observed.

“Yeah, well, whatever.” I said. “Just run.” I said.

“MROOO!” said the Minotaur, who was still perched on top of the Chariot-Van. It jumped off and started barreling towards us. We were twenty yards away. Ten yards.

“MOOOO!” He was behind us, just twenty yard behind. Five yards. There was a bump sound as Mike hit the magical border. The minotaur was running towards him at the speed of a runaway truck. He got up and pounded once on the border.

“Hey! I can’t get in!” he said.

“MOOOOO!” said the Minotaur.

“You know what,” Mike said. “Forget it.” He turned and charged at the Minotaur. There was a resounding gasp from everyone around me. I was surprised to find that I had gasped myself. Tracy looked pale. The only one that didn’t look worried was Mike. The Minotaur lowered his horns and thrashed his head back and forth. Mike dove to the right, and the Minotaurs horn caught Mike’s chest on the left side, tearing away part of his shirt. The Minotaur turned to face Mike. His horn was red. Mike was bleeding from a deep gash in his chest. Peleus the dragon didn’t even stir. Mike charged the Minotaur again, and ducked a punch that would have surely killed him. He came back with a kick to the monsters groin.

“MRRRR!” The monster squeaked. Finally, I found my voice.

“I, Gwendolyn Jace, give you permission to enter Camp Half blood!” I said. “C’mon!”

Mike ran over, blood leaking from his chest. He was breathing heavily. One of the Ares campers came running up the hill. He was holding a spear. “What’s the matter?” he said. Mike didn’t answer. Instead, he lunged for the campers waist, and drew his sword, and turned back to the border and charged the Minotaur again. This time we all watched in awe as the minotaur lowered his head and charged. As quick as lightning, Mike spun out of the way, and brought his sword up in an arc that shore through the Minotaur’s Neck. The monster crumbled to dust, and Mike walked back across the border, and handed the stunned Ares camper his sword back.

“You said he was a mortal.” Moss said, turning to Chuck and I.

“He is!” Chuck insisted. “I don’t know how he did that. He can see through the mist, though!”

“Hey, are you guys gonna explain why all of the Greek myths are appearing out of nowhere? And shouldn’t they be in Greece?”

“There’s this thing called Western Civilization. Basically, the greek gods go where the influence is greatest. It used to be Greece. It moved to Rome for a while. Now it’s here.” I said. “Mount Olympus is on top of the Empire State Building.”

“Um, okay…”

“You know what, we’ll explain later.” Chuck said. “Right now, we need to get you a Band-Aid.”