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☠︎ Percy.
"I've got training to do," Annabeth says flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin or Mor to the mess hall."
"I'm sorry about the toilets. Your shoes-"
"Whatever."
"It wasn't my fault."
She looks at me skeptically, and I realize it was my fault. I'd made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. I don't understand how. But the toilets had responded to me. I had become one with the plumbing.
"You need to talk to the Oracle", Morana states, making my head turn to the beautiful yet slightly irritating girl. "Who?"
"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron", Annabeth rambles. I stare into the lake, wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once. I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skips a beat when I notice two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below.
They're wearing blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair float loose around their shoulders as minnows dart in and out. They smile and wave as if I'm a long-lost friend. I don't know what else to do so I wave back.
"Don't encourage them," Annabeth warns, Morana looking down briefly before leaning her back on the railing. "Naiads are terrible flirts", Morana states calmly.
"Naiads," I repeat, feeling completely overwhelmed. "That's it. I want to go home now."
Annabeth frowns and Morana scoffs. Not really sympathetic, but then again, I didn't expect her to be. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us", Annabeth talks to me.
"You mean, mentally disturbed kids?"
"Thanks", Morana deadpans, making me a bit annoyed so I shoot her a glance that tells my emotions. I gain nothing but a challenging brow raise, which makes me turn back to the not so intimidating girl.
"I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human", Annabeth talks again.
"Half-human and half-what?"
"I think you know", Morana puts in coldly, looking at me with those beautiful yet scary golden eyes. I don't want to admit it, but I'm afraid I do. I feel a tingling in my limbs, a sensation I sometimes felt when my mom talked about my dad.
