Chapter Text
Look, I didn’t ask to be a half-blood.
If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, here’s my advice: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to live a normal life.
Being a half-blood is dangerous. It’s scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.
But even then, I can’t say it’s all bad. There are a lot of downs, but for every down, there’s an up. Kind of. Sorta. Maybe. But that doesn’t change how dangerous it is.
If you’re reading this and you begin to recognize yourself in these pages — if you feel a stirring inside, something calling out to you — stop reading immediately. Find the nearest Protector and insist they take you to Camp. The less you know until you’re inside the border, the better. They can sense those who know too much, and they’ll come for you, just like they came for me.
You know what, let me start at the beginning.
Life as Percy Jackson knew it ended not with a bang, but with a group of twenty-eight bored twelve-year-olds and a field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
And he was determined to make it a good trip. As boring as a day full of staring at Ancient Greek and Roman art sounded, there was no way it could go wrong. Not like how it did last year, in fifth grade, with the Revolutionary War canon. Sure, the bus was totaled, but it wasn’t like he was purposefully aiming for it! Or in fourth grade, when he visited the Bronx Zoo. How that Babirusa had gotten out of its pen was not his fault, nor was the fact that it bit anyone who came near him afterward. That one shouldn’t have been an expulsion if you asked him, but nobody ever asked him. It was easier to shake their heads with that same old disappointed look, call his mother, and explain that they “didn’t have the tools to teach him with his imagination,” or “couldn’t risk the safety of the other students,” or “had such high hopes, but this just isn’t the place for him”.
Whatever. Those places sucked. Yancy did too, but this school was different. He’d made his first friend here and, not only that, but he also had a teacher who seemed to like him. His mother had been so hopeful when he came home from Winter break and chatted about the shenanigans he and Grover had gotten into or how he got higher than a C- on a test for once. ( It was only a C, but Mr. Brunner and his mother had congratulated him as if it were an A+. )
For them and them alone, he would make Yancy work.
Even if some people pushed his buttons.
“ I’m gonna kill her, “ Percy muttered, plucking another piece of peanut-butter-and-ketchup sandwich from Grover’s hair.
The rumbling of the bus and the chatter of other sixth-graders kept it so nobody but Grover heard, but he swore Ms. Dodds had ears growing all over her body, designed to listen for him and him alone. Where Mr. Brunner saw the best in him, Ms. Dodds saw the worst. So, just like every other teacher he’d ever had. She was his pre-algebra teacher and had it out for him in ways that put all his other teachers to shame. She’d purposely call on him for questions even a college student would have difficulty answering, and when he’d inevitably get it wrong, used him as an example. This is why you study, children, she would croon. You don’t want to be unprepared like Mr. Jackson here. He’d mutter something under his breath in response and find himself sitting outside the headmaster’s office before one could say Pythagorean Theorem.
As soon as the last word left his mouth, Ms. Dodds was staring at him. Her brown eyes were so dark, Percy swore they were black, and every time he looked into them, he had to fight back a shudder. He offered her a smile that he was sure was more of a grimace, and her face soured, as if she’d just sucked on a lemon.
Grover nudged him with a look, and Percy rolled his eyes, plucking a piece of white bread from behind his friend's ear.
“ You’re already on probation, “ Grover said. “ The last thing you need is to get into a fight with Nancy. Just drop it. “
“ Drop it? She’s using your head as target practice — “
“ I know! I know. She’s a monster, “ he said, and then paused. If Percy had to guess, he looked nervous when he shot a look over his shoulder at her. The girl sneered at him, mean and ugly and a promise of something worse if he didn’t look away, but Grover’s shoulders only slumped in something akin to relief when he turned back to Percy. “ Not literally, at least. I think. Either way, I can deal with her. “
“ Right. By getting peanut-butter-and-ketchup thrown in your hair. You know we aren’t allowed to bring food in, right? “
Grover gave him another look, and Percy grinned, something warm flickering in his chest.
Looking back, he wished he’d questioned Grover’s choice of wording. He wished he’d taken the wadded-up ball of peanut butter, ketchup, and bread he’d collected and chucked it full-force at Nancy’s face. He wished he’d stepped off the bus and immediately hailed a cab home. All of these were better options than the mess he was about to get into.
But hindsight is twenty-twenty. As the bus rolled to a stop in front of the museum, Grover squeezed his wrist. It was a reassurance and a warning wrapped in one, and Percy sighed, grabbing the last of the bread from his hair and squishing it into the ball, which was then wrapped in a thin layer of napkins.
He didn’t slam-dunk it onto Nancy’s head. It was tossed into the trash as their class began their trip into the museum.
Mr. Brunner led them through the exhibits until they arrived at the Greek and Roman section. Big, glass panes separated everything from large marble statues to tiny ancient cookware from them. Most of it looked to be in better condition than he would expect from things that were thousands of years old. Mr. Brunner answered questions before they were even asked, pointing out specific statues and explaining who they depicted, who may have created them, and the purpose they served in ancient times.
Percy tried his best to pay attention. He did. The words on his worksheet swam around every time he looked down at it, but he made a little checkmark next to each exhibit they talked about on the worksheet. Statues of Zeus and Hera, check. Sphinx stele for a girl who died, RIP. Check. Shield that looks way shinier than it should be, check. He tried to scribble in some notes too, but that was much harder with everyone talking around him. Every few seconds, the voices of the kids would overlap with Mr. Brunner’s, and he’d end up writing down whatever they’d been talking about rather than the information Mr. Brunner was giving.
It didn’t help that every time he turned and asked someone to be quiet, Ms. Dodds looked at him with that same sour expression. He couldn’t quite understand what it meant, but he doubted it was anything good. Ms. Dodds’ attention was never good.
Things came to a head when Nancy ( because of course it was her, of course ) snickered again about the nth naked guy they passed. It might’ve been amusing the first one or two times, because, haha, yeah, he’s naked and we’re all stupid twelve-year-olds! But now, it was getting old.
“ Can you shut up? “ Percy snapped, louder than he’d meant to. Now, it was his voice that overlapped with Mr. Brunner’s, loud enough to gain his attention.
The whole group laughed as Mr. Brunner paused, craning his head to look at Percy. He had a glint in his eyes that most teachers had when they were about to make an example of a student, but Percy tried to relax. Mr. Brunner wasn’t that type of teacher.
“ Mr. Jackson,” he said. “ Did you have a comment? “
“ No, sir, “ Percy tried to say confidently, but it came out more like a squeak. Around him, his class snickered and chuckled again. A few even went as far as to repeat his words in a shrill whisper, and Grover stiffened beside him. This time, it was Percy who reached out and grabbed his wrist, preventing his friend from bashing in their knees with his crutches.
“ How about you tell us what this picture represents? “
He pointed to a picture on the side of the stele, and Percy stepped up beside him, squinting at it. Despite his awful luck on getting called out and Mr. Brunner indeed using him as an example, he realized ( with no small amount of relief ) that he knew this picture. A monstrous being was shown eating a rock, eyes closed in bliss. His stomach was transparent to show five people already inside of him, all of them of various ages. The woman who stood beside him in the picture looked relieved, in the same way Percy did when he got away with a lie once every few years. Except her lie was much bigger than any Percy had ever told.
“ That’s Kronos eating his children, “ Percy said. “ He ate five of them before his wife, Rhea, tricked him into eating a rock to save her last child. “
“ And who was the last child, Percy? The one who avoided the fate of his brothers and sisters? “
“ Zeus, “ Percy answered, and he swore thunder rumbled in the distance. “ King of the Gods. “
Mr. Brunner nodded, a smile on his face. That glint in his eyes had morphed into a twinkle, and just seeing that alone had Percy feeling warm. This time, not in the way that his face was going to explode in embarrassment, but in the way of Oh my god, I made my favorite teacher proud.
“ Mr. Jackson is correct. Just as Kronos had overthrown his own father, he received a prophecy that he would be overthrown by his children. To avoid this, he ate three of his daughters and two of his sons before his wife, Rhea, decided he must be stopped. She hid young Zeus away and tricked Kronos into eating a rock. For years, Zeus hid and trained to one day overthrow his father. When the time came, Zeus fed his father a mixture of mustard and wine, which caused Kronos to disgorge all five of his siblings. Now fully grown, Hestia, Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, and Hera pledged their loyalty to their brother and waged war against their father. The gods won and cut Kronos into pieces with his own scythe before casting him into Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. “
All around Percy, children reacted in various ways. A few of the girls had gagged at the mention of throwing up five fully grown adults, while one of the boys was muttering to his friend about how Kronos had a vore fetish. A few hung onto Mr. Brunner’s every word — the ones who aced every single test of his without ever having to study — but most just shuffled on their feet and waited for Mr. Brunner to be finished.
Behind him, Nancy muttered to one of her goons, “ Like we’re ever going to use this in real life. He could teach us useful stuff, but no. We just haaaaave to know why Kronos ate his children. “
“ A great question, Miss Bobofit, “ Mr. Brunner cut in, and the entire class snickered again. Nancy’s face went as red as her hair or as the ketchup she’d been throwing at Grover earlier.
Not so fun to be on the other end, is it? Percy thought, but his relief at not being the only one to get in trouble was short-lived when Mr. Brunner turned his attention back to him.
“ And, Mr. Jackson? Why does this matter in real life? “
Percy tried to think, but kept coming up blank. As much as he loathed to admit it, he agreed with Nancy. Unless one planned to pursue a historical field, as Mr. Brunner did, there was no way they’d be using this information outside of school. Except maybe on a really weird game show, but Percy doubted he’d be on one of those in his lifetime.
“ I don’t know, sir. “
“ Ah, “ Mr. Brunner said, and the twinkle in his eye vanished, as did the warmth Percy felt. “ I see. Well, let us break for lunch. We’ll resume here afterwards, and if we manage to get through everything, that should leave you all with an hour of free time to explore the other exhibits. “
Mr. Brunner had said the magic words — lunch and free time. Half of their class was out the doorway to the exhibit before he’d even finished, and distantly, he could hear a security guard yelling about not running through the museum. Mr. Brunner exchanged a long look with Ms. Dodds, and just when it became long enough for Percy to start growing uncomfortable, Ms. Dodds broke it. She let out a long sigh before turning on her heel and taking off after the rest of the class, monotonously telling the few nearby who could hear her to obey the rules or else.
“ Mr. Jackson, “ Mr. Brunner said just as Percy turned with Grover to join them. “ A word. “
And then he looked at Grover. “ Alone. “
Grover hesitated, but Percy nudged his crutches with his foot. Grover had packed some enchiladas for his lunch — he’d spent all of last night meticulously packing his meal. It’d been set out before his clothes had. He wouldn’t keep Grover from that. Besides, this was Mr. Brunner — if he ripped into Percy for snapping at Nancy, Percy would be amazed.
As soon as Grover left, the teacher turned to face him. Besides a few others who stayed at the other end of the exhibit hall, it was just the two of them, the stele of a dead girl, and a picture of Kronos devouring his children. Mr. Brunner had an intense look in his ancient brown eyes, and distantly, Percy wondered if he was old enough to see the fall of Greece, rise of Rome, and transportation of all their relics to this very museum.
“ You must learn to answer my question, “ he said.
“ About . . . Kronos? I thought I did? “
“ You did answer that one, “ Mr. Brunner told him. “ But I meant the one about how my teachings matter in real life. What you learn from me is vitally important and may become useful to you sooner rather than later. You have done well so far, but I know you can do better. You must do better, Percy Jackson. “
Any lingering embers Percy had of happiness from making his teacher proud were snuffed out in an instant. Of course, he thought dimly. Percy’s maximum was most of Mr. Brunner’s students' minimums. This guy had probably taught all levels of prodigies, geniuses, and scholars. A simple answer from a C- average student with dyslexia and ADHD wouldn’t impress him.
“ Right, “ Percy mumbled. “ I’ll do better, sir. “
Mr. Brunner’s gaze softened slightly, and he waved his hand, allowing Percy to leave. He wasted no time in turning away, lifting his sleeve to rub furiously at his eyes. His vision was blurry right now, but it couldn’t be by the time he got outside. The other children would pick him apart, but worst of all, Grover would freak. Whenever Percy cried, Grover somehow ended up crying too. He told Percy he was an empath, whatever that meant, but Percy knew he didn’t want to deal with it today.
Before he left, he cast one last look over his shoulder.
Mr. Brunner was staring up at the stele, his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked deep in thought, wrinkles on his forehead all scrunched, and his brow furrowed. Yet, even from this distance, Percy could see the sorrow in his eyes.
As if he were mourning the young girl the stele belonged to.
Grover was waiting for him as he exited the museum. The rest of the class had gathered along the front steps of the museum, split into various groups, all under the watchful eye of Ms. Dodds. Overhead, a dark storm brewed; clouds blacker than Percy had ever seen stretched as far as the eye could see. The weather had been weird since Christmas — freak lightning storms rampaging across upstate New York, rainstorms barraging the city, and Long Island even had a tsunami warning once or twice.
Yet, nobody else in his class seemed to bat an eye. Some guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchable crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket some poor tourist while her friends distracted her with fake directions. Everyone sat sprawled across the steps like they didn’t care that it could start pouring any second now and soak them all to the bone.
The only ones who seemed to notice the freak weather were Grover and, of course, Ms. Dodds.
Grover had an umbrella tucked against his side, and every so often, his hands would find the handle like he was getting ready to open it. Then, he’d freeze and shake his head, and his hands would return to fisting at his shirt or holding a death grip on his crutches. At the same time, Ms. Dodds had her arms crossed, glaring at the sky. He hoped no poor pigeons flew in front of her gaze. It seemed dark enough to kill them right out of the sky.
“ Dude, if you’re not going to use the umbrella, hand it over, “ Percy said. “ The last thing I need is to get my parade rained on again. Literally, this time. “
“ No! “ Grover made a strange sound from the back of his throat; something that sounded between a goat’s bleat and a rough cough. It wasn’t the first time Percy had heard him make it, and while he’d mostly gotten used to it, there were times when he had to wonder if Grover was half-goat or something to be able to make such a sound. “ I — I mean . . . It’s broken! Yeah. So, uh, it can’t be used. “
“ Why’d you even bring it then? “
Grover gave a weak shrug and dragged Percy to sit by the fountain. It was far enough away from the rest of the group that maybe, just maybe, any passerby would think they weren’t a part of the pigeon-pelting-tourist-stealing-loser freaks on the steps.
“ What happened with Mr. Brunner? Detention? “
“ Nah, “ Percy said, opening his brown paper bag. His sandwich was half-squished inside, and his bag of chips had completely popped open. The only thing untouched was a small red apple, but that didn’t exactly rouse his appetite. “ Brunner would never. But I just wish he’d lower his expectations a little, y’know? I’m doing the best I can. “
Silence greeted him. When he glanced over, Grover had a look of deep contemplation on his face. His enchilada had been forgotten in his hands, which was how Percy knew whatever he was thinking about saying was serious. But just as he went to open his mouth, five bodies appeared around them. The largest of them moved forward and dumped a half-eaten peanut-butter-and-ketchup sandwich into Grover’s lap. She didn’t stop there, however, and slapped his enchilada into the water of the fountain behind them. It floated pitifully at the surface, soaking up the water before disappearing into the shallow depths.
“ Oops, “ Nancy Bobofit sneered, and her four friends giggled around her. Nancy stood out like a sore thumb with her bright-red hair and neon orange freckles compared to their bleach-blond heads and clear, glowy skin. How she ended up their leader was one of the few great mysteries left in the world. Grover thought it had something to do with her dad being the richest of the group, and Percy supposed that could be it. Money could do a lot of things and make people act in a lot of ways.
In Nancy’s case, it made her act like a spoiled brat of a bully.
“ It’s — It’s okay, “ Grover muttered, but Percy could practically taste the sadness wafting off of him. Grover had been looking forward to that enchilada all day. Even if he hadn’t been, being the subject of bullying from anyone, but especially someone like Nancy, was never fun. His shoulders hunched in on himself, and despite the beginnings of a wispy beard decorating his chin, he looked even younger than Percy under their taunts.
Slowly, Percy turned and met Nancy’s gaze.
If you asked him later, he’d tell you the unbelievable truth; he had no idea what happened at the fountain. One moment, he’d locked eyes with Nancy, Grover’s sadness mixing with the growing rage inside of him, and the next, Nancy and her goons were sobbing on their knees on the ground. Mascara and eyeliner melted down the faces of four of the five girls, turning them from beauty queens into hot messes, but Nancy herself was the worst of them. Her breath hitched with every sob, like she could barely catch it, and tears flowed nonstop down her face in a way Percy knew would leave her eyes red and raw later. Their cries were loud enough to make the passersby stop and stare at them, and even Mr. Brunner had begun wheeling himself over.
Ms. Dodds beat him there.
“ P — P — Percy did it! “ Nancy sobbed, a shaky finger pointed at him. “ He — he — “
Her voice broke with a wail, and Percy reared back, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Grover. His best friend was slack-jawed, torn between keeping his gaze on the sobbing girls, Ms. Dodds doing her best to comfort Nancy, and Percy’s shocked expression. He tried to stammer something out that Percy hoped was in his defense, but Ms. Dodds whirled on Percy regardless of what he said.
She pointed a wicked finger at him and grinned triumphantly. “ Now, honey — “
“ I didn’t do anything! “ Percy immediately defended himself. Sure, he’d been thinking a lot of colorful words about the girl, but he didn’t do anything! They just started crying all on their own!
Defending himself was the wrong thing to do, apparently. It always was.
“ Come with me. “
Ms. Dodds demanded and side-stepped the crying girls. Mr. Brunner finally arrived beside her as Percy stood up, offering his baggie in place of Grover’s lunch. When he turned to look at the two teachers, they appeared to be in some sort of stare-off. Ms. Dodds still wore her grin, with teeth that seemed to be getting sharper each second that dragged on. Mr. Brunner had his lips pressed into a thin line, bordering on a frown, which was an expression Percy didn’t think he’d even seen on his teacher's face.
Nancy let out another wail, and it was enough to startle Mr. Brunner from his stare. Ms. Dodds took that as a win and, before the other teacher could protest, grabbed Percy by his elbow and dragged him up the stairs towards the museum entrance.
At first, Percy thought she was going to force him to buy each of the girls something from the gift shop. Some sort of consolation for making them burst into tears, even if he was adamant that he hadn’t done anything to cause that. But Ms. Dodds dragged him right past the entrance and deeper into the museum until they were back in the Ancient Greece and Rome exhibit.
This time, no stragglers were hanging near the edges of other exhibits. The gallery was empty aside from them and the statues of the gods, all of whom seemed to follow him with their stony gaze. If there wasn’t a pit in his stomach that screamed something was wrong before, there definitely was now.
She stopped them in front of the picture of Kronos devouring his children. Her grip turned iron on his elbow before it fell away, hands balling into fists at her sides. A weird sort of noise started in the back of her throat that Percy swore was growling. Scratch standing here and taking whatever punishment she was about to lay down on him — every instinct he had was yelling at him to turn tail and run, to find Grover, Mr. Brunner, anyone else. Something deep and primal inside of him told him he should be afraid of being alone with Ms. Dodds.
The moment he took a step back, Ms. Dodds snapped her head towards him.
“ You’ve been giving us trouble, honey, “ she cooed.
Percy went with the safe option — the option that would hopefully have her letting him go sooner rather than later. “ Yes, ma’am. “
“ I must say, I am surprised it’s you, “ she continued, now tugging at the cuffs of her leather jacket. “ But there are very few others who could have done such a thing. You will find that we can be merciful compared to others you may face. Confess now, and you shall suffer less pain, Percy Jackson. “
She’s a teacher, Percy thought nervously. A loony-tunes, off-her-rocker, crazy teacher, but still a teacher. She can’t hurt me.
“ I’m not sure what you’re talking about, ma’am. “
That was the wrong answer. Ms. Dodds clicked her tongue like she was disappointed and shook her head.
“ Very well, “ she hissed. “ Your time is up. Accept your punishment! “
She said instead of pressing him further and, really, that should’ve been Percy’s final straw into turning tail and hightailing it out of there.
Instead, he watched as her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her arms slowly began to elongate, and her fingers fused, morphing into three long, sharp talons on either hand. The leather jacket she’d been wearing melted onto her arms until it became a pair of leathery wings. The rest of her human disguise fell away with that and left a shriveled, evil hag standing in place of his pre-algebra teacher.
She hissed again, showing off rows of yellow, pointed teeth, and aimed both her talons at him. Her head cocked in an almost avian manner, eyes gleaming, like she was calculating just how she was going to slice him into ribbons for the janitors to clean off the museum floor.
That’s it, Percy hysterically thought and turned to the exit. Only, that’s when things decided to get even weirder.
Something was blocking the exit. No, someone.
Mr. Brunner, who had wheeled in at some point, pulled out something from his pocket and held it overhead.
“ What ho, Percy! “ He shouted, and chucked the object through the air right as Ms. Dodds took to the air and dove at him.
Percy had to throw all his body weight to the right to avoid her, and even then, it was close. The sound of air whooshing by his ear made him flinch, a yelp tearing itself from his throat. She crashed into a wall some ways away, and Percy grabbed whatever Mr. Brunner had thrown to him, snagging it out of the air right before it hit the ground.
He hoped it was a phone, so he could call his mom and tell her he loved her before his life ended. Or maybe a gun, but Mr. Brunner didn’t seem like the type of teacher to casually bring a gun into a museum, and something told him bullets would do very little to whatever Ms. Dodds was.
When he looked down, any hope of being saved was dashed in an instant. A simple lighter sat in his palm, square in shape and with a bronze coating. When he flicked it open, the mechanics that would give him flame were gold, but aside from the fanciness of it, it was a completely normal lighter.
“ It is yours to wield, Percy! “ Mr. Brunner called to him. “ You must do so! “
“ This is a lighter! “ Percy called back. “ This is a lighter! “
A snarl came from somewhere behind him, and he turned just in time to see Ms. Dodds again. The gleam in her eyes had turned completely murderous, and she wasted no time in diving towards him again. There was no time for another dodge. Mr. Brunner wouldn’t be able to reach him in time. If he sat and did nothing as he was doing now, he would die, so he did the only thing he could in the moment.
He flicked the lighter open.
A flame erupted from it, shifting through every color of the rainbow before it settled on a deep purple. It whirled around him to form a protective wall and grew high enough to cover everything from his shoes to the top of his head. The proximity to the flame should have him sweating or coughing from the smoke, but he wasn’t.
Through the fire, he could see Ms. Dodd's eyes widen right before she collided with it. An unholy wail — even worse than Nancy’s — left her throat as the purple flames raced up her legs and arms, spreading across her wings and burning holes in them. Her body finally gave out when the flame raced over her face, and she exploded into a yellow powder. It smelt strongly of sulfur, and when it mixed with the flame, sent up thick, dark smoke to the ceiling. But it didn’t burn up, instead settling in a pile right outside the wall of flames.
Percy waited for a long moment, as if Ms. Dodds would rise from the yellow ashes like a phoenix and lunge at him again and again until she breached the wall of fire. Only when the ashes stayed just that did he look down at the lighter, the pit in his stomach transforming into something akin to amazement. The purple fire began to lighten until it became a pale yellow color; not quite the right color for normal fire, but closer than purple would ever be.
Experimentally, he flicked the lighter closed. The flames disappeared around him in a quiet whoosh, and when he flicked the lighter open again, only a small, yellow flame stuttered from the opening.
“ What the fuck, “ he whispered, because there was nothing else to say. Neither Mr. Brunner nor his mother appreciated such language, but he was sure both would give him a pass after what he just gone through.
Speaking of Mr. Brunner . . .
Percy gave a long look around the exhibit. There was nobody there — including Mr. Brunner. The exit was wide and open for him to leave through, and when voices began to pick up from the hall near the entrance, he did just that.
The lighter was shakily shoved into his pocket, and he gave the pile of yellow dust a wide berth as he skittered out. By the time the next group wandered in, the black smoke had fully disappeared, and only a small pile of grey ash remained on the ground.
Outside was better than inside, even if it had begun to rain.
His classmates were squeezed against the sides of the museum, trying to gain shelter using the ledges high above them as barriers. He paid them no mind and all but sprinted over to Grover, who was still sitting by the fountain. He was using his so-called “broken” umbrella and perked up when Percy approached, offering half of it to him wordlessly.
Nancy and her friends were sitting nearby, using maps of the museum to try to shelter themselves, and Percy had to wobble past to get to Grover. As he did, Nancy glared at him. Just like he thought, her eyes were red, as were her knuckles — like she’d been rubbing them nonstop.
“ I hope Mrs. Kerr whooped your butt, “ she hissed.
“ Who? “
“ Our teacher, duh! “
Percy immediately turned to Grover as he sat beside him, the question of What the hell is she talking about? on the tip of his tongue. But his friend beat him to it, grabbing him by the shoulder with his free hand and asking, “ Are you okay? “
“ What? “ Percy breathed out, because no, he wasn't okay. He’d just used magical fire to incinerate his teacher, who was apparently some kind of evil bat-person. He wanted to grab Grover by his shoulders and shake him and ask him what sort of person would be okay after that, but restrained himself. Grover wouldn’t know that. Grover had been outside during the entire showdown. The one who had been there was . . .
“ Mr. Jackson. “
As if summed by his thoughts, Mr. Brunner magically appeared in front of him. A red umbrella kept his chair safe from the rain, and with a half-eaten apple in his hand, he kind of looked like a motorized café table. His teacher wore a look of disappointment and held out his free hand, palm facing up, towards Percy.
“ I believe you have something of mine, young man. “
His fingers instinctively found the lighter in his pocket and, after a moment, pulled it free. It looked just as it did before he flicked it open, and part of him wanted to do it again. That way, Grover and Mr. Brunner would see the magic color-changing flame and wouldn’t think he was completely cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs when he explained what happened later. But Mr. Brunner’s gaze hardened, and Percy handed it over immediately, not wanting to risk the wrath of another teacher.
“ Thank you. I can’t see why you’d need a lighter, so next time, let’s steal something like a pen if we must. But preferably, let’s not steal at all. “
Ignoring that this was a lecture Nancy should be receiving instead, Percy chose to ask, “ Mr. Brunner, what happened to Ms. Dodds? Is she okay? What was she? “
Mr. Brunner frowned and asked the dreaded question. “ Who? “
“ Our math teacher, “ Percy stressed, his voice going an octave higher. Nearby, Nancy and her friends began to snicker. “ The other chaperone! Ms. Dodds! “
Mr. Brunner frowned and exchanged a look with Grover. His eyes softened when he looked back at Percy, and just when Percy thought he might get an actual answer from someone, Nancy and her friends began laughing loudly.
When he blinked, the softened, understanding gaze of Mr. Brunner had been replaced with confusion, and he leaned forward in his chair.
“ Percy, “ he said slowly. “ There is no Ms. Dodds on this trip. As far as I’m aware, there has never been a Ms. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling alright? “