4. Meeting Friends

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I just never woke up. Yeah, that's it. All of this is a dream, and I'll wake at Champlain tomorrow morning.

With Chiron, Y/N passed the volleyball pit. Most of the campers were older than him. Their satyr friends were taller than Ethan, with nothing to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. It was too weird; it made him uncomfortable.

He looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than he had thought—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort.

Y/N and Chiron walked through strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

"It pays our expenses," Chiron explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort." Certainly because Y/N frowned, he added, "Mr. D's effect on plants."

They continued walking for a little longer.

"What will happen to Ethan?" Y/N asked. "He told me he had done something bad, that he was supposed to protect me and didn't. But he did! Hadn't he gone for help, I'd be lying somewhere near that tree."

Chiron sighed. "I agree, Y/N," he said. "But that's not for me to decide, it's up to Mr. D and the Council of Cloven Elders. And I'm afraid they won't take the state you arrived in here as proof of Ethan's success as a protector."

"He'll get a second chance, right?"

"I think so. But it'll certainly take a while before Ethan is allowed to go looking for new campers again. It's for the best. He's so young..."

"He's my age," Y/N said.

Chiron grinned. "Oh no, Y/N, he isn't."

"How old is he then?"

"If I am not mistaken, twenty-six."

Y/N almost choked himself. "What! But he's been with me for two years, and we were in fifth grade at the time."

"Satyre mature half as fast as humans, Y/N. Ethan is particularly gifted actually since it was only the third time he tried to pass from fifth to sixth grade when he did it. Unfortunately, he doesn't succeed as much in woodland magic. To be honest, he never really tried."

They arrived before a forest. It was huge, at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick that you could imagine nobody had been there since the Native Americans.

"The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed," Chiron said. "Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"Er—"

"Of course not," Chiron said. "Let's see—I think a size six will do. I'll visit the armory later."

What kind of summer camp has an armory? Y/N didn't get an answer as the visit continued. They saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables—Chiron didn't seem to like them very much—the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where sword and spear fights were held.

"Spear and sword fights?" Y/N wondered.

"Cabin challenges and all that," Chiron explained. "Nothing lethal—well, usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

He pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in with Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" Y/N asked.

Chiron frowned as if the answer was obvious. "We still have to eat, don't we?"

Finally, Chiron showed Y/N the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings Y/N had ever seen. Some were particularly clean, others seemed more like haunted houses.

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