70. The New Guide Is A Golden Girl

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It took two weeks to finally decide to do the funeral ceremony.

At first Y/N argued that Percy couldn't have survived—no one survived such an explosion, half-blood or not—but Chiron said that there was a chance he could've withstood the flames, being the son of the god of the Sea and Earthquakes. Then Chiron came to terms with the idea that Percy wouldn't be coming back, but now Y/N couldn't do it.

Quickly the word spread about Percy, and Camp Half-Blood became even gloomier than before. There hadn't even been any major battles against Kronos's army yet, and already they lost one of their most powerful members.

They tried to send an Iris-message to Percy and prayed to the gods, giving them more offerings than usual, but to no avail.

At last the idea of Percy being dead sunk inside Y/N. It felt strange. There was no corpse to see, nothing to confirm the fact, and a part of him still hoped. But two weeks . . . If the explosion hadn't killed Percy, there would have been monsters to finish him off. . . .

They did it late in the afternoon. All the activity that usually filled camp came stopped—the archery range was empty; the climbing wall poured lava and rumbled all by itself; no sound came from the dining pavilion; the cabins were all vacant. Everyone headed to the amphitheater, where a fire was set up—only this time it wasn't for roasting marshmallows.

A shroud had been made for Percy, a long piece of blue-green silk embroidered with a trident.

Y/N was in a trance. What was happening . . . it was so surreal. He only half listened to what Chiron said: "—assume he is dead. After so long a silence, it is unlikely our prayers will be answered."

He sniffed, because of the smoke. It didn't help him at all. It brought tears to his eyes, stung his lungs, blurred his vision.

He was next to the fire, facing the audience. At least he wasn't the only one with a grave look. Annabeth's eyes were puffy. Beckendorf had never frowned so much. The Stoll brothers didn't smile at all. Even Clarisse looked sad. Only Percy looked dazed.

Y/N widened his eyes and pointed straight ahead. Percy— "He's right there!" he cried.

Heads turned. People gasped.

"Percy!" Beckendorf grinned. A bunch of other kids crowded around Percy and clapped him on the back. Only the Ares kids didn't seem happy, and some of them cursed. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, as if she couldn't believe Percy had had the nerve to survive.

Chiron cantered over and everyone made way for him.

"Well," he sighed with obvious relief. "I don't believe I've ever been happier to see a camper return. But you must tell me—"

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Y/N interrupted, shoving aside the other campers. "We all thought you were dead!"

Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry," he replied. "I got lost."

"Lost?" Annabeth said as she came up beside Y/N. "Two weeks, Percy? Where in the world—"

"Annabeth," Chiron interrupted. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, shall we? The rest of you, back to your normal activities!"

Without waiting for them to protest, Chiron picked up Y/N, Annabeth, and Percy as easily as if they were kittens, slung the three of them on his back, and galloped off to the Big House.


Percy told them an odd story. He explained to them how he had caused the explosion at Mount St. Helens and gotten blasted out of the volcano. He told them he'd been marooned on an island. Then Hephaestus had found him and told him he could leave. A magical raft had carried him back to camp.

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