The Second Jackson- Piper McLean book 1

A Less Than Warm Welcome Home

Frank

We stopped at the front porch. As I feared a loose ring of campfires glowed in the woods, completely surrounding the property, but the house itself seemed untouched.

Grandmother's wind chimes jangled in the night breeze. Her wicker chair sat empty, facing the road. Lights shone through the downstairs windows, but I decided against ringing the doorbell. I didn't know how late it was, or if Grandmother was asleep or even home. Instead I checked the stone elephant stature in the corner- a tiny duplicate of the one in Portland. The spare key was still tucked under its foot.

I hesitated at the door.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked.

I remembered the morning I'd opened this door for the military officer who had told me about my mother. I remembered walking down these steps to her funeral, holding my piece of firewood in my coat for the first time. I remembered standing here and watching the wolves come out of the woods- Lupa's minions, who would lead me to Camp Jupiter. That seemed so long ago, but it had only been six weeks.

Now I was back. Would Grandmother hug me? Would she say, Frank, thank the gods you've come! I'm surrounded by monsters!

More likely she'd scold me or mistake us for intruders and chase us off with a frying pan.

"Frank?" Hazel asked.

"Ella is nervous" the harpy muttered from her perch on the railing. "The elephant- the elephant is looking at Ella"

"It'll be fine" My hand was shaking so badly I could barely fit the key inside the lock. "Just stay together"

Inside the house smelled closed-up and musty. Usually the air was scented with jasmine incense, but all the burners were empty.

We examined the living room, the dining room, the kitchen. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, which wasn't right. Grandmother's maid came every day- unless she'd been scared off by the giants.

Or eaten for lunch, I thought. Ella had said the Laistrygonians were cannibals.

I pushed the thought aside. Monsters ignored regular mortals. At least, they usually did.

In the parlor, Buddha statues and Taoist immortals grinned at us like psycho clowns. I remembered Iris, the rainbow goddess, who'd been dabbling in Buddhism and Taoism. I figured one visit to this creepy old house would cure her of that.

Grandmother's large porcelain vases were strung with cobwebs. Again- that wasn't right. She insisted that her collection be dusted regularly. Looking at the porcelain, I felt a twinge of guilt for having destroyed so many pieces the day of the funeral. It seemed silly to me now- getting angry at Grandmother when I had so many others to be angry at: Juno, Gaea, the giants, my dad Mars. Especially Mars.

The fireplace was dark and cold.

Hazel hugged her chest as if to keep the piece of firewood from jumping into the hearth. "Is that"

"Yeah" I said. "That's it"

"That's what?" Lani asked.

Hazel's expression was sympathetic, but that just made me feel worse. I remembered how terrified, how repulsed she had looked when I had summoned Gray.

"It's the fireplace" I told Lani, which sounded stupidly obvious. "Come on. Let's check upstairs"

The steps creaked under our feet. My old room was the same. None of my things had been touched- my extra bow and quiver (I'd have to grab those later), my spelling awards from school (yeah, I probably was the only non-dyslexic spelling champion demigod in the world, as if I weren't enough of a freak already) and my photos of my mom- in her flak jacket and helmet, sitting on a Humvee in Kandahar Province; in her soccer coach uniform, the season she'd coached my team; in her military dress uniform, the her hand on my shoulders, the time she'd visited my school for career day.

"Your mother?" Hazel asked gently. "She's beautiful"

I couldn't answer. I felt a little embarrassed- a sixteen-year-old guy had a bunch of pictures of his mom. How hopelessly lame was that? But mostly I felt sad. Six weeks since I'd been here. In some ways it seemed like forever. But when I looked at my mom's smiling face in those photos, the pain of losing her was as fresh as ever.

We checked the other bedrooms. The middle two were empty. A dim light flickered under the last door- Grandmother's room.

I knocked quietly. No one answered. I pushed open her door. Grandmother lay in bed, looking gaunt and frail, her white hair spread around her face like a basilisk's crown. A single candle burned on the nightstand. At her bedside sat a large man in beige Canadian Forces fatigues. Despite the gloom, he wore dark sunglasses with blood red light glowing behind the lenses.

"Mars" I said.

The god looked up impassively. "Hey kid. Come on in. Tell your friends to take a hike"

"Frank?" Hazel whispered. "What do you mean Mars? Is your grandmother... is she okay?"

I glanced at my friends. "You don't see him?"

"See who?" Lani asked.

At the same time Percy gripped his sword and said, "Mars? Where?"

The war god chuckled. "Nah, they can't see me. Figured it was better this time. Just a private conversation- father/son, right?"

I clenched my fists. I counted to ten before I trusted myself to speak.

"Guys it's... it's nothing. Listen why don't you take the middle bedrooms?"

"Roof" Ella said. "Roofs are good for harpies"

"Sure" I said in a daze. "There's probably food in the kitchen. Would you give me a few minutes alone with my grandmother? I think she-"

My voice broke. I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or scream or punch Mars in the glasses- maybe all three.

Hazel laid her hand on my arm. "Of course, Frank. Come on, Ella, Percy, Lani"