Daughter of Wine

Callida

I find a train ticket from Quebec to Detroit that leaves in a couple hours. From Detroit, I can take a bus to Chicago. After being so anxious on the plane, I figure a train is safer, even if it's a little slower. At least if there's a monster on the train, I don't have to worry about being thousands of feet up in the air. I could teleport to Chicago, but I've never been. I could end up inside of a wall or a hundred feet up in the air or something. It only really works if I know where I'm going. 

I sleep as much as I can on the train. Once I get to Detroit, I'll have to find the Greyhound bus station. That'll be a whole dilemma on it's own, but for right now, I decide to focus on the present. I'm on a fairly nice train. It's warm. No angry angel-people trying to turn me into an ice sculpture. And, there's food and drinks. I'm fifteen, no one in their right mind would serve me alcohol, but the diet coke they sell me can turn to wine in the palm of my hand. I won't get drunk, not unless I want to, but the dry, fruity taste of the wine calms me down. 

In between sleeping, I wake up and watch the landscape roll by. The sun is starting its descent now, and they'll be having dinner back at camp soon. Surely by now, they've realized I'm missing. I feel guilty. Annabeth already lost Percy. I was helping her try and figure out where he is, and now she's lost me too. I'm one of her closest friends. We've both been at camp since we were eight. We were both friends with Luke. We cried together after he died. 

I push the thought out of my mind and look out the window. There are pegasi, wandering and roaming a pasture. Crazy. 

"Is this seat taken?" A voice asks from beside me. 

I look up quickly to see a handsome guy, maybe a year or two older than me, leaning against the seat beside mine and grinning down at me. 

"Um, no." I tell him. Involuntarily, my face turns red. 

"Cool." He sits down next to me, staring at me. "You alone?"

"Yeah." I'm torn between starting up a conversation with this guy and being as dry as possible. My internal alarms are going off like crazy, but he's just so handsome. He has curly dark hair, muscular arms, and dimples in his cheeks when he flashes me his pearly white smile. His eyes are a warm, chocolatey brown. But he smells strange, kind of like the satyrs at camp. Like a barnyard animal. It could be explained by the fact that he's in a flannel shirt, jeans with an enormous belt buckle, and a cowboy hat. Maybe he works on a farm. 

"Where are you off to?" He asks. "Meeting family?"

"Yeah." I sigh. "In Chicago." 

His mouth twitches at the mention of the city. "Chicago, huh?"

I nod. 

He leans back in the chair, getting comfortable. "I'm not one for big cities. Too many people, not enough room to roam free." 

I shrug. "I don't mind it, but I'm not super used to it either." His choice of words doesn't sit well with me. Roam free? What, like a herd of cattle or something? Like a free-range chicken? 

"Oh, yeah?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Where are you from?" 

"Born in Miami." I tell him. "South Beach. But I left when I was little. I live on a... erm... farm. On Long Island." 

He taps the armrests anxiously. "Long Island. I've met a few people from up there. My family hasn't had pleasant experiences with them." 

The alarms in my head grow louder. "Well, it was nice talking to you." I put my headphones in and pray he'll leave. But he doesn't. He stares at me until I take them out. "Look, I really just want to listen to my music-"

"Listen," His voice isn't as friendly now. "I'm not a fan of your... kind." 

"My kind?" I ask. 

"Demigods." He growls, but it's not a growl you'd hear from something like a wolf or a tiger. It sounds like a shaky growl. Almost like... like a horse. 

"Oh?" I manage to ask. 

"They're always trying to steal our treasure." He tells me. 

"Treasure, huh?" I ask, pushing myself up against the window. My hand slowly finds its way to my knife in my backpack pocket. "Look, I don't want your treasure. You keep it. I just want to go to Chicago." 

He sucks his teeth. "See, I can't let you do that."

I reach over and touch his hand. "Who are you?"

Wine-talk is probably the ability I use least. I usually use it during capture the flag. Everyone knows not to let me touch them, because if I do, I'll just ask where the flag is, and people tell me. I can't talk people into doing things like Drew can with her charmspeak, but I can be pretty persuasive, and I have excellent interrogation abilities.

"I am Damon." He tells me. "I am a Hippopode." 

A Hippopode. A horse footed creature from Ancient Greek mythology. They guarded a treasure on an island. They're greedy. That's all I know. 

He yanks his hand away and frowns. "That's not nice." 

"Look, Damon." I try. "I want nothing to do with your treasure. Honest. I'm just travelling. I'm happy to give you a few drachma for your trouble. Add it to your treasure or something-"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but my patron has asked that I stop you from continuing. Me and my brethren, we do as we're asked. That's all." 

"Okay." I nod, my mind racing. "But before you guys kill me, you mind telling me who your patron is?"

He chuckles. "Why does it matter?"

"I just like to know who gets the pleasure of having me killed before it's done." I shrug. I could teleport off the train, get to the pegasi I saw, and maybe hitch a ride. I'm good with animals. I look around the train. There are a bunch of cowboy-looking dudes all staring at me. I'm glad I'm not on a plane. 

"My patron is powerful. She wants you dead before you complete your quest. And let's face it, even if we don't kill you, the keeper of the storm spirits will. Our way will at least be kinder. Have you ever heard of drawing and quartering?"

"No." I lie. "Could you explain that to me?" 

While he explains in gruesome detail, I try and count the cowboys. Eleven besides Damon. 

"You know-" I interrupt him. "-I don't really feel like being drawn and quartered today. Maybe another time?" 

He chuckles. "I'm sorry, but this is how it must be. He stands, and his brethren do too. 

"Okay, that's my cue." I give him a wink and disappear in a burst of purple flames, leaving behind the faint smell of grapes.