Chapter Text
“The Hermes cabin is always packed to the brim. Adding one more kid isn’t going to break down its walls. And if the walls were to hypothetically break, that still isn’t my problem.” Dionysus shrugged, flaring his arms out.
“It’ll be your problem once everybody starts to complain.” Percy scoffed.
“Repeat that, Peter?” Dionysus leaned in, a scowl creeping into his mortal guise.
“I said —”
Chiron sighed, cutting him off. “Percy, you have done a lot for the gods and camp as it is, but you are still new to this world. Neither I nor Mr. D has full control over what happens with camp. The Council decides a majority of the decisions made on camp’s behalf.”
“But Mr. D is a part of the Council, right?” Percy asked.
“Percy, the Council works kind of like the government. They have to agree on things.” Annabeth explained.
“You’re telling me they have to agree over building another cabin at camp? That’s so stupid.” Percy declared.
“A big thanks to you for interrupting my reading. I’ll be getting back to that now.” Dionysus picked up his wine magazine and left, his face twisting with annoyance.
“What’s with that guy?” Percy muttered as he walked out of the Big House and towards the pavilion for lunch.
“The gods don’t agree on much. Even if Mr. D wanted to help, he’d have to get a lot of other Olympians to vote for the cause. And it’s a lot bigger than simply building another cabin.” Annabeth attempted. After a brief pause in their conversation, Annabeth decided it was the perfect time to switch the topic to something she was intent on learning about. “You mentioned that you met a new camper?” She asked.
“Yeah. His name is Pierce. He’s unclaimed.” Percy explained.
“You do know why so many kids are unclaimed, right?” Annabeth questioned.
Percy whipped his head to face her. “No?”
Annabeth sighed. “It’s not just because the gods don’t want to claim them. It’s also because a lot of the kids here are children of minor gods. They don’t have cabins here, so there’s nowhere else for them to stay.”
Percy’s nose crinkled and his hands tightened. “That’s still such a stupid reason. So many kids are so close to knowing who their parents are but that’s why they can’t?”
Annabeth nodded, her brows leveling just above her eyes. “Sometimes we can’t question these things. There isn’t anything we can do about it.”
“And everybody here just accepts that?” Percy chided.
Annabeth left his question unanswered. “Go to your table. I’ll see you later.” She ordered, leaving Percy and heading off to the Athena table.
“Great.” Percy grumbled, sitting down at his assigned table alone. Nothing says lunchtime like creaky old wood planks that threaten to break when you sit on them. It was obvious that the table hadn’t been repaired in a millennia. Looking around, he recognized a lot of the faces seated around the pavilion. He definitely didn’t know everybody, but he met some kids before he went on his quest. At the Apollo table, Lee Fletcher and his siblings were writing poetry and rhyming. Charles Beckendorf and the Hephaestus cabin members were talking with one another while tinkering with their own projects, as per usual. Beckendorf wasn’t really invested in his gadget, though, as he was staring at Silena Beauregard, who stood out at the Aphrodite table because she was a lot more reserved and kinder than the rest of her siblings. Then at the Hermes cabin, the Stoll brothers, of course — who looked to be drawing a map of the Demeter cabin, probably for a prank on Katie Gardner and her cabin mates (they always were an easy target, apparently). Next to them, though, was that same kid from the other day. He was glaring at Percy again with those almost unnatural looking eyes that seemed so familiar.
This was getting real odd. Percy tried his hardest to ignore it, picking up his goblet and filling it with Coke. The guy kept staring, his eyes bouncing back and forth from the sky to Percy. Percy began to wonder if maybe a bird shat in his hair. He redirected his attention to the sky. The camp was under a protection or whatever it was to ensure that the poor weather of the outside world didn’t affect the campgrounds, but it still looked really gloomy today. Storm clouds were amassed at the center of the sky, ready to strike at any moment. By the time Percy came out of his haze, lunch was over. Annabeth came rushing over to him, slamming her hand down on the table.
“We need to talk.” She insisted, her face contorting into that analytical expression she makes whenever she's onto something (which is practically all the time).
“Yeah. We do.” Percy said, running a hand through his black hair strands.
“So you’ve noticed the sky?” She prodded.
“Well, yeah?”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She asked, her gray eyes widening and eyebrows raised as if trying to convey her thoughts.
“…the weather must be really bad in the mortal world?”
Annabeth crossed her arms and huffed. “No, Percy. Something is happening to Olympus. More specifically, you-know-who is probably upset.” Right. No saying names.
“That’s funny. We already gave him his master bolt, no dirty work involved. What else could he want?” Percy groaned.
“I don’t know. But I have a feeling our quest won’t be the only one this summer.” Annabeth suggested grimly.
“What makes you say that?” Percy asked, motioning for her to sit.
“It’s not just the weather that’s weird. Mr. D and Chiron are acting really odd and aloof, too. Chiron always knows when I’m up to something and this time he told me to back off.” She furrowed her eyebrows and glanced away.
“Maybe they’re arguing about a nymph again.” Percy remarked.
“No. This feels serious. I need answers.” She grabbed her plate and the two walked over to the fire, scraping away their food in sacrifice to the gods.
“What are the two of you talking about?” A monotonous voice spoke. Percy and Annabeth turned around. It was that kid, Pierce.
“Uh, we were just talking about how this ham kind of tasted like chicken.” Percy announced. Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“Oh, okay. I could have sworn I heard something about a nymph.” Pierce narrowed his eyes.
“You’re new, right? Do you know what nymphs are?” Annabeth asked.
“Yes. My mother teaches Greek mythology.” Pierce added. “Crazy how different it is from the mortal world.”
“So how are you adapting to all of this?” Annabeth questioned.
“It’s definitely different.” Pierce opined. Percy noticed how contrasting Pierce was from a lot of the other new campers. He was a lot more put together, but his shoulders were often tense and his jaw was usually tightened, like he was always contemplating something.
“Yeah, for sure. I know I showed you around the other day, but did Chiron show you the entrance video and give you the run down?” Percy asked, titling his head and shoving his hands into his pockets.
“He did.” Pierce shifted his weight to his other foot. “How does this claiming thing work?”
Percy and Annabeth looked at each other for a moment.
“It kind of just happens randomly.” Percy shrugged.
Pierce nodded. “And who is your parent?” He asked Annabeth.
“Me? I’m a daughter of Athena.” Annabeth replied, tightening her ponytail. Pierce looked like he was trying his hardest to hold back a grimace. “Is there something wrong with that?” She queried.
“No, nothing at all. Why would there be?” Pierce blinked.
Annabeth crossed her arms in defense, but Percy gently nudged her. “Annabeth.”
“I don’t think I caught your name. What was it?” Annabeth wondered.
“Pierce.”
“Do you have any talents or skills that make you stand out from, say, normal mortals?” Annabeth dug.
“Not particularly.” He said, his face scrunching ever so slightly. Pierce turned to Percy, as if disinterested in continuing the current conversation.
“Who is your godly parent?” He asked, his face lighting up again once he stopped talking to Annabeth.
“Uh, Poseidon.” Percy stated.
Before Pierce could respond, someone blew into a conch shell, gaining everybody’s attention. A crowd of campers staggered into view.
“Alright brats!” Mr. D yelled. “We’re doing canoe races today. Get with your cabins.” He announced, sparking a chain of excitement. Percy smiled. This was something he was good at.
“Alright, I’ll see you out there.” Percy said, lifting his head at Pierce and Annabeth.
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Percy picked up an old, rusty canoe, as the other cabins made sure he got last choice in favor of dulling his chances of success. Not much you can do to slow down a son of Poseidon, though. He plopped it down in the water next to the other eight canoes lined up alongside the shore. The Aphrodite kids chose a pretty colored canoe, but it didn’t look so advanced in the buoyancy department. The Hephaestus kids were adding a motor to their canoe, but they still wouldn’t be able to win against Percy. The Ares cabin deployed spikes on the side of their canoe, courtesy of Clarisse, probably. There was nothing she’d rather do than take down Percy in his own turf.
Pierce was one of the kids controlling the canoe in the Hermes cabin, and he actually looked like he knew what he was doing with how he positioned the paddles.
“On your marks.” Chiron broadcasted. “Go!”
Everybody hastily took off, paddling as fast as they could. Percy didn’t even really need to paddle that hard, as he was controlling the current and was easily in the lead. Whenever somebody came close, he could harmlessly halt their canoe’s movement with a flicker of his hand. He was even able to mess with the motor on the Hephaestus cabin’s canoe, rendering it useless. The only real problem was the Hermes cabin’s canoe. The thing was flying through the waters a lot faster than Percy thought possible, and for some reason, it was a lot harder for him to slow their canoe down. It was no problem, though, as he still boosted his canoe at speeds no Hermes kid could. He looked back to see the Athena cabin’s canoe approach the Hermes canoe, but it skidded to a stop. Annabeth scornfully locked eyes with Percy and grit her teeth. How did that even happen? Somebody cut off the canoe’s movement — and it wasn’t Percy.
Pierce and his cabin mate approached Percy to his right. Percy sped up, propelling the water to carry him quicker. That did nothing, as Pierce just glided across the water like a water bug. He kept glancing back and forth at Percy. As if on cue , he appeared.
“Tug deeper at your gut.” He said.
What?
Percy’s eyebrows furrowed, and his mock casual stance tightened. How did Pierce know about that?
The water churned a deeper blue, the sky reflecting tones of gray and splotches of white. Percy winced, deepening his concentration. Pierce’s canoe fell far behind him.
Percy heard cheering (and a lot of complaining) behind him. He was at the finish line.
“That’s not fair! Of course he won!” An Ares camper pouted. Percy’s lips pursed and his arms fell uneasily to his side. Pierce caught his attention as he himself reached the finish line smiling giddily. Percy’s eyebrows drew together and his eyes thinned.
“What did you — how did you know —?” Percy stammered, shooting his eyes back and forth.
Pierce shut his eyes for a moment, taking in a harsh breath. Shimmering above his head was the gleaming trident symbol, marking him as claimed by the sea god himself. Jaws dropped, and a roar erupted. All Percy could do was gape at this boy who was now declared his half-brother. He turned to Chiron, who took a moment to clear his throat and recuperate before speaking.
“You have been claimed by Poseidon,” he said, “Earthshaker. Stormbringer. Pierce, a true son of the sea god.”
———————————
Percy didn’t know what to feel or how to feel. All his life he wanted a sibling — someone to relate to, someone to face hardship with. Someone to stand with him everytime Smelly Gabe tampered with him. Never did the thought cross his mind that he would feel so unwanted, so discarded, so… unimportant. And he felt selfish. Here his brother was, right in front of him, and he had the ability to comfort him and help him come to an understanding with the lack of a paternal figure in his life. To help him grapple with the fact that he might be dead in the next few years, simply because their father wanted to appease fleeting, momentary pleasure. But as Pierce entered the dusty, creaking cabin that Percy spent the past summer alone with, all he felt was jealousy and resentment.
“This… they keep you in here?” Pierce scoffed, plopping his bag on the floor.
“Yeah. It’s more comfortable than it looks.” Percy responded, his arms folded against his chest.
The room grew colder as specs of dust swirled in the evening breeze. Percy sat down at the edge of his bed, leaning forward and placing all his weight on his elbows. Pierce unpacked his bag: sand dollars and a singular blue Hawaiian shirt. He really was more of a son of Poseidon than Percy would ever be.
“So this is why you knew what to tell me during the race?” Percy asked, eyes shooting up from the floor.
“Yes, you might say that. It was a hunch, however.” Pierce retracted his head back. “Now that you know who your father is, do you have any moments in your life that strike you differently?” Pierce asked, looking up at Percy with a hint of sympathy.
“I don’t know. I mean, maybe? I never knew to pay attention to things like that. I guess a few times when I got mad, like this one time I accidently shot back at this girl near a fountain.” Pierce looked to the side with contempt. “Have you?”
“Not one that I can remember.” He paused for a moment. “But there have been times where my family has been threatened, and I do not take well to that.” Pierce looked at his hand and crumpled his fingers into a fist.
Percy sighed.
“ I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.” Percy said, forcing a weak smile.
Pierce’s eyes widened. “No, Percy. I’ll be here for you, always, anytime.”
Percy nodded awkwardly as he stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll see you at dinner.”