Chapter 1
I. RON
The first thing that assaulted Ron's face was a cool, prickly sensation.
He hunkered down behind the thick bushes, his knee aching against the rough ground. His cheap binoculars were practically glued to his eyes as he squinted through the tangled mess of leaves, but it was like staring into a brick wall. He knew, with certainty, that one wrong move, one breath too loud, and it could all be over.
Then, a faint sound caught his attention—a rustle, like something small and cautious was moving around.
They were coming.
Ron took a deep breath and counted slowly; one, two, three....but he couldn't hold back any longer, so he leaped out of his hiding spot and locked onto the target. "There, there! East-northeast, seventy-five degrees!" He yelled, diving out from the nearest bushes and rolling across the rough ground to dodge their fire.
He scrambled back to his feet, just as he heard, "Get him!" That was his part all along—to create a distraction so the others could sneak into the patch of the strawberry field and retrieve the bronze helmet hidden there. He had to get out of the place, fast. The stables was his best shot. If they caught him, the whole team would be scrubbing toilets for a week. No joke.
He had to run as fast as he could, or they would catch up and squash him flat. When he finally saw the stables, he was like, “Cool! I'm saved!" But then, nope. His foot got snagged on a little branch, and the next thing he knew, he was doing a somersault down the field.
His body slammed into something solid. Ron thought he’d run right into a tree or something, but there wasn't a single one around him. He was flat on his back, stretched out like a starfish, glaring up at the sky like he was ready to throw hands with it. That was when he heard it—a crackling sound like something was straight-up on fire, like someone was burning a whole bunch of leaves in a trash can, and the smell? Forget about it, it was like a gross, burnt-popcorn nightmare stuck to your nose.
Then the earth rumbled beneath him, a violent shudder that took the breath out of his lungs. It felt like the ground was ripping apart, ready to swallow him whole, and it seriously looked like it was about to, so he scrambled back to the field, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Hey!" Someone shouted, "You're ruining the game!"
Ron dropped his hands on his knees, sucking in big breaths. He pointed a shaky finger back the way he'd come. He knew exactly what he'd felt, and it was so real it scared him.
"Earthquake!" he screamed over the noise of campers charging out of their hiding places. "We gotta get out of here, now!"
Everyone just stared at him like he'd grown a second head or something, one of the campers gave him a look like, 'Are you kidding me?' and yelled, “It's a trap!” they all took off in different directions, leaving him standing there, confused.
Now he was starting to get it. The ground wasn’t rumbling, the sky was clear, everything seemed totally normal. No crazy fires or anything. Even the satyrs hanging out nearby looked like they were just having another regular day growing the strawberries. Ron glared at the dirt ground, blaming it for messing with his head.
"I heard what happened," Annabeth said, stepping into view. He had no clue how she managed to appear out of nowhere like that.
"No," Ron whined. "You're not supposed to be here!"
Annabeth lifted an eyebrow, "I've been keeping an eye on you since the game started," as if it were just an ordinary thing to do, or maybe it's just because moms are supposed to be like that? She'd been around since he was a baby, always watching him like a hawk.
Ron was wondering if she'd felt the earthquake too. There's no way she missed it when she was tailing him like that. "Do you believe me?”
Annabeth looked at him, like she was trying to figure him out. "I believe you hit your head," she said, sounding pretty sure of herself.
"No,” Ron scoffed. "I didn't hit my head!"
"You totally did," Annabeth insisted.
Then he felt a pain in his head, like a throbbing headache. He reached up and touched the spot, only to see a blood on his finger. "No," He started to freak out and run in circles, "I'm gonna die!"
"You're not going to die,” Annabeth sighed, pulling him along.
They wound up in the infirmary, and he felt like a loser for bailing on the game. It was a no-brainer. Keep playing and risk death, or hit the infirmary and live to fight another day!
His half-siblings were all over him, trying to patch up his little cut, but the rest were just crowding around, asking a million questions and poking at him. He didn't know what they're doing here, and why was he suddenly being attacked by a swarm of annoying little bugs.
"What're you all doing here?” their oldest sibling stormed in.
"Lee!" Ron yelled, frantically waving his arm to get his brother's attention.
Lee heaved the blankets onto the closest cot by the entrance, looking less than pleased. He looked like he'd just sprinted hundreds of laps around the amphitheatre, because he was drenched in sweat.
"What happened to you?" Annabeth demanded.
"New kid showed up with a Super Soaker," Lee said, shaking his head. "He's been spraying everyone,”
Ron's ears perked up at the name. He'd seen those things from the magazine before! He wondered what it'd be like to shoot something with that thing. Does the water just blast out like a bullet? Annabeth must've seen his expression, she looked like she was already saying, Nope, not happening.
"Gee," one of them commented, “d’you think Mr. D kicked his butt out?”
"Don't be stupid," Lee muttered, grabbing one of the blankets only to find it soaked. "Again, what are you all doing here? Is there some kind of meeting I missed?"
"Ron's dating the tree nymph," someone started.
He leaped out of bed and started kicking them. They all swerved out of the way and raced outside, laughing as they went.
"Come on, Mister Man." Annabeth said, "I'm taking you back to the cabin."
Ron whimpered. "I’m not heading back there..."
"Yes, you will," Lee insisted, tossing him a piece of candy.
Annabeth led him outside, but before she could get a word in, he was already jetting off towards the arena. He didn’t look back and kept running along the narrow trail. He slipped behind one of the columns that lined the area, trying to stay out of sight. He pulled out the cheap binoculars hanging from his chest, adjusted the focus, and watched as some of the campers sparred each other with swords.
"Woah," Ron whispered, picturing himself wielding a celestial bronze weapon and battling monsters. It totally sucked that they wouldn't let him touch a steel sword. He had to make do with a wooden one. He had no clue someone was standing next to him until he looked up. It was Luke, his best friend—unlike Annabeth, he was awesome.
"Come on,” Luke jerked his head towards the arena. "You need to try this new technique I figured out." He held up another wooden sword like it was some kind of joke.
Ron didn't even bother to look at the thing. “No!" he declined. It was the sword that had him refusing.
"You'll get your chance,” Luke said, knowing exactly how to encourage him. "When you turn ten, I promise you a real sword, not this toy."
“Really?”
"Really." Luke tossed the wooden sword towards him. He dived forward, barely managing to catch it before it clattered to the ground. He embarrassingly gripped the sword handle tightly and pointed it at his best friend, who was circling him like a hungry shark.
Luke charged and Ron managed to sidestep the attack, feeling the rough edge brush against his arm. The training session lasted a good twenty minutes, with constantly pointing out where he was messing up. The sword just felt all wrong in his hands. It was unwieldy and heavy, even though it was just a piece of wood.
There were a bunch of Ares kids huddled together on the sidelines, snickering and shooting him dirty looks. "Nice sword, Strawberry Shortcake!" one of them sneered. "Did you carve that thing by yourself?”
One of the bigger, meaner-looking kids stood up, cupping his hands around his mouth like he was trying to shout over a hurricane. "Oooh, was that made of timber or just pure embarrassment?”
Ron bit his lip hard to keep the tears at bay. Luke didn’t seem impressed by the sudden mockery. “Don't let them get to you,” he steered him away from the others and started talking about Achilles, the greatest Greek warrior of the Trojan War—the story was just interesting enough to pull Ron's attention away from everything else. But he started crying, so they had to leave the arena.
Annabeth appeared when they were a good distance away from the place, squinting at the ground. "He’s got to learn to handle things on his own,"
Ron's sniffles grew louder.
"He's a kid, Annabeth," Luke said. "So are you,"
"I'm not six," Annabeth snapped. "I'm ten.”
Luke ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, his eyes fixed somewhere off to the side, knowing exactly that the conversation could easily blow up into an argument. Ron didn’t want his two best friends to see him as weak or in need of their pity, so he roughly wiped away the tears from his eyes with a determined swipe. "I'm not a stupid baby," he said.
Annabeth suddenly looked concerned. "I didn't mean to say—"
"I am not a stupid baby!" he repeated forcefully.
"I shouldn’t have pushed you into sword fighting," Luke admitted. "What do you think about archery, Ron?"
"Below the knee!"
"What?" Annabeth breathed in confusion, what he meant by 'below the knee' is that archery was decent, but sword fighting was still way cooler!
Luke smiled broadly, “I've got a feeling you’ll be great at it,” he nodded confidently. “Your dad’s an archer, and most of his kids turned out to be pretty skilled too.”
Ron almost forgot about his father. It had been a while since he’d heard anything about him. He’d only heard about the god in Greek Mythology lessons and from his half-siblings, but that information never revealed much about what his dad was actually doing these days, as if there was a whole part of his life he was missing out on.
“He’d be good at it,” Annabeth added with a smile, “Remember when it was his first time at the beach? He kept talking about a tiny boat, even though there wasn’t one in sight.”
“Sharp eyes,” Luke pointed out. “That’s what makes him better at archery.”
Archery? Ron knew a little about it. He’d often watched his half-siblings practice in the range, but never really considered trying it himself. It seemed really tough the way they had to reach behind their backs to retrieve the arrows, and what if they ran out of them?
"Hey," Annabeth called, probably noticing the way he chewed his lips. "Chiron will be there, and so will your siblings.
"Why don't we give those a shot right now?" Luke suggested.
"Sounds good," Annabeth agreed. "We've still got a couple hours before dinner, let's go.”
They picked up the pace towards the archery range, he couldn't figure out what had gotten into them to be in such a rush.
The ground was already bustling with activity when they arrived. A few of his half-siblings were hanging around too, but they were just standing there, probably chatting about nothing important. Chiron, the camp's activities director, was usually the one running drills, but the centaur was off doing something important.
They approached one of his half-siblings, who was methodically stacking arrows into her quiver. She kept piling arrow after arrow until the quiver was bulging and the last arrow stubbornly refused to fit. “By the gods!” his sister looked like she was about to blow a fuse or something.
"Camilla!" Ron shouted across the training ground. "Camilla!"
The girl turned around angrily, her curly, scrubby black hair flew around her like a wide halo. "Do not shout! I am trying to keep it together over here,”
"We need your help," Annabeth interrupted, motioning at the quiver. "Do you think you could be a temporary coach for Ron?”
"What does my little brother need a 'temporary coach' for, anyway?" Camilla replied, kinda annoyed. Then, snap, the last arrow broke in half. Her shoulders suddenly drooped as if someone kicked her in the stomach.
“Archery!” Ron exclaimed enthusiastically.
"I heard you've been taking archery lessons since you were nine," Luke said with a wry smile. "So we figured you'd be the best person to teach him."
"Wait a second," Camilla said, her thick eyebrows drawn together in focus. "Is this some kind of weird dream, or is my little brother—who has always been obsessed with swords—actually trying to pick up archery now? What is next, him starting a dance-off with Clarisse La Rue?”
"So," Annabeth prodded, raising an eyebrow expectantly. "Are you going to do it or…?"
Camilla stared at the three, before letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Looks like I am really stuck doing this," she said, throwing her arms around Ron, “Okay, let us get this show on the road. I will teach you the very basics."
Ron glanced back as he was being dragged along with the others. Luke gave him a thumbs-up with a wide smile, and Annabeth only nodded.
He squeezed himself in between two other campers, trying to get a good look at the targets. Remember! Archery is all about concentration, Camilla explained, It is like a slingshot, but with way more finesse! The quiver she handed him was way heavier than he expected, and he had to really work to stay balanced.
Camilla started by showing Ron how to nock an arrow and place it properly on the bow which was noticeably smaller than the others. His first try was a total miss and his second try wasn't much better. Everyone was encouraging him. It was completely different from those mean Ares kids back at the arena. His half-siblings were even more supportive, and they'd scream with excitement every time he released an arrow.
“That’s a wrap for today, everyone!” announced one of the Satyrs who had been supervising their training. "Remember to brush your teeth before dinner, blah! We’ve got a barbecue coming up!”
Everyone cheered at the thought of eating barbecues—nothing sounded better after a tough training session.
Luke ruffled Ron’s hair affectionately. “Good job,” he praised.
"He is really good," Camilla said proudly. "Did I teach him well?"
"M' not good," Ron jumped, wrapping his arms around Luke's waist.
"You just need more practice," Annabeth said, walking alongside them. "But I think you'll improve immediately,”
Ron turned and waved a cheerful goodbye to his best friends, before joining Camilla and their half-siblings. They kept chattering about his training at the archery range, their conversation stretching on and on. The topic even reached Lee's ears, and he gave them a knowing smile.
"I thought you'd never be into archery," Lee said, helping him get into his pajama clothes.
Ron flumped down on his bed, reaching for his Clone Trooper figurine from the nightstand. He lifted the thing and waved it around in the air, making it glide and swoop, before picking up the warm glass of milk and taking a small sip.
"What did you have for lunch?" Lee asked, settling down opposite him.
“Ham sandwiches!" he replied. "I had three of them. Can I have more barbecue later, please, please?"
"If you finish a plate of veggie sticks over there," Lee said, giving him a gentle kiss on the head, "then you can have more barbecue. Come on, finish your milk—dinner will be ready any minute."
They were getting ready when the conch shell suddenly blew. Lee made everyone stand in line, from the shortest to the tallest. Obviously, Ron was leading the front, and he could already hear the others’ stomachs rumbling behind him. Then they joined the long line of campers heading to the Dining Pavilion.
Most of the kids were shoving each other and racing around. Meanwhile, the girls from the Aphrodite cabin, clustered in the further back, were diligently applying thick layers of makeup to their faces. Every few moments, they’d glance at their compact mirrors, adjusting their looks with focused precision.
He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice someone barreling towards him. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground with a loud thump after getting a hard shoulder bump.
"Boo-hoo!" The familiar voice made him look up, only to see a bunch of Ares kids cracking up.
"Hey!" Lee yelled after them, but they were already gone.
Ron pulled himself up, wincing a little. He didn't want to cry.
Lee grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him along beside him. But he stopped moving, and their half-siblings were already walking past them.
"Ron?"
The clattering of plates and cups was already making his ears feel unbearably itchy. He wanted to scratch his ears. He immediately yanked his hands back and covered his ears.
"Hey, you're fine," Lee reassured, “Nobody's going to hurt you. I'm right here."
"No!" Ron cried out, his hands clamping tightly over his ears. "Hurts..."
Lee knelt down in front of him, bringing himself to the same level before lifting him up into his arms. "How about we head back, hm?"
Ron looked down for a second. The noises were still hurting him, so he gave his brother a big, tight hug.
"Okay."