PART OF YOUR WORLD, p. jackson

──Family Line, Conan Gray

Percy should be happy. She knows this.

She now knew who her estranged father was, and knew more about her identity and her mother's past (and tastes). She had plenty of room for all her stuff: the Minotaur's horn, one set of spare clothes, and a toiletry bag. She got to sit at her own dinner table, pick all her own activities, call "lights out" whenever she felt like it, and not listen to anybody else.

She'd synced her schedule with Aphrodite's cabin. Where she learned that Oliver worked the group rather hard in combat and extended their variety of skills. Percy understood why they kept it hidden, not even letting the secret breath during Capture The Flag, everyone — and by 'everyone' she meant everyone — underestimated them. But Percy was sure they were probably the strongest cabin there.

She did have favourites, though. One could say she was very biased.

Sometimes, Luke would drag her over to their training, and people grew suspicious of how naturally it came to her, as though she'd done this all before. Which pushed the narrative of her being Poseidon's 'little thief'.

As Luke opened his mouth to questioned her, Oliver — as per usual — appeared at the right place at the right time.

"Love?" He called out from near a tree where he watched her and Luke spar, "Chiron's looking for you."

Oliver walked her up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on her first day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents—two sets of cards hovering in the air. Grover was there too, which confused Percy some.

"Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity."

She waited.

"Come closer," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said.

Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. Oliver stood at the door, keeping a watchful eye.

"If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Girl wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D—" Chiron warned.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the girl is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottle nose. Do you understand? And Percilla Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass.

Mr. D finally acknowledged Oliver, "I see you've met your match, chaos."