Chapter Text
Lucy’s head throbbed as she woke up. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her and rolled over, heaving. Nothing came out. But she felt gentle hands on her back, rubbing soothing circles and telling her to let it all out.
“If you have anything left to vomit, that is,” the voice added.
Lucy lay back, feeling soft pillows beneath her head. She caught sight of George sitting over her and was sure she was at Yancy Academy. Nancy Bobofit had probably thrown a dodgeball really hard at her head again, knocked her out. Lucy was probably in the nurse’s office, about to be dismissed even if she could barely walk and sent back to her room.
“I just had the strangest dream. Norrie stole a car. And you had goat legs. And you said my dad was a god. And then the minotaur attacked us. And…”
Lucy trailed off as her mind cleared a little. She was able to make out wooden rafters above her head, vary obviously not the ceiling of the Yancy nurse’s office. And since when did Yancy bother with pillows in the nurse’s office?
She turned to George, battling against the sensation of cotton wool in her mouth to ask what was going on.
And then she saw his legs. George had goat legs. They appeared from underneath his shorts, hairy and hooved. Lucy gasped, stumbling out of bed. She was unsteady as she stood, chest heaving.
“You have goat legs.”
“We already went over that,” George told her.
“But that means it’s real. It’s all real. Every… Norrie…”
The name came out as a sob. Norrie. Norrie had been Lucy’s best friend. They had instantly clicked. And then Lucy’s life had begun to unravel. She’d been attacked by something on a museum trip. Some monster that had once been her bubbly, popular maths teacher. Norrie, George and their history teacher must have seen it but they’d denied it and Lucy had been suspended for some prank someone else must have pulled on Nancy that had given the bully the fright of her life. Lucy had been suspended, sent home to her sneering, alcoholic mother. Until suddenly Norrie and George had been on her doorstep and Norrie had hotwired Lucy’s mother’s car and they been heading to some camp when a minotaur – an actual living minotaur – had attacked them and killed Norrie.
“Yes. I know. But she would not have regretted it. She told me herself,” George said. “She knew you were something special.”
“You’re talking like she knew this would happen!” Lucy snapped.
George nodded, saying Norrie did.
“She was a child of Hermes. He was her father. And she came with me to help me collect you. It was her first quest. She knew there was something special about you from the moment they announced a demi-god was being sent to help collect you.”
Lucy shook her head, telling George to shut up.
“Stop it. Tell me the truth.”
She didn’t know what she asked that. She knew George wasn’t lying. She had seen it with her own eyes. But she didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to think that Norrie could actually be dead.
“I’m not lying,” George said. “But you need to get some rest. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, see about giving you a tour of camp.”
He turned away, picking something up from the side. He passed it to Lucy. It was a shoe box, nothing big or grand. She opened it, wondering what could possibly be inside.
A horn. It was a nasty, crooked and stained thing, that curled into a deadly point. Lucy recognised it. It had belonged to the minotaur. The one that had killed Norrie.
“You avenged her,” George said. “That’s all Norrie could have asked for.”
As he had promised, George came by in the morning to give Lucy a tour. He told her she had spent a week in the infirmary, getting the best treatments Camp Half-blood could offer. Lucy gathered what was where she had ended up, Camp Half-blood. It seemed to be almost entirely populated by teenagers and older children. They raced about, carrying swords and shields and bows and arrows. A few wore armour but almost all were wearing orange t-shirts with the Camp Half-blood logo on the front.
“It’s dangerous for the children of the gods out there in the mortal world,” George explained. “That’s why this place was created, a sanctuary where people like you can train and grow up. Satyrs go out to collect the children of the gods whenever the danger becomes too great for them to stay with their parents. Your mother is such a vile human that her smell protected you from the monsters that might have otherwise smelt you out but Barnes kept talking about bringing you back here. He knew what she was like. And he would have had you come to life with us if your mother hadn’t kept sending you to boarding schools.”
“Barnes?” Lucy frowned. “Our history teacher?”
George nodded. He turned, smiling.
“Here he is now.”
Lucy turned, hearing the sound of approaching hooves. She watched as Barnes rode over to them and wondered how a paralysed man could so gracefully ride a horse. As he drew closer however, she realised Barnes was not riding the horse at all. Rather he was the horse. Or at least part of him was. The top half of him was his usual self, complete with his leather jacket, but the bottom half… That was that of a dark-haired horse.
“He’s a centaur,” Lucy managed.
George nodded.
“You might have heard of him. He’s better known as Chiron, trainer of heroes. He’s the activities director. A few parents said they didn’t trust some guy who only had one name, like Cher, so we all call him Mr Barnes now.”
Barnes came to a stop before Lucy. She tried her best not to stare at his legs, but it was so distracting to see the body of a horse suddenly erupt from such a normal looking man.
“I’m glad to see you’re recovering, Carlyle. Is George showing you around?”
“Yes. But it’s a lot to take in.”
“Take your time. Now, George, make sure you introduce her to Danny before you finish your tour. He’s head counsellor for the Hermes’ cabin.”
“Hermes. Does that mean he’s my father?” Lucy gasped. “Like Norrie?”
Barnes shook his head.
“Hermes might be your father, of course. But that is no guarantee. He is also the god of travellers and his cabin is where every demi-god stays before they are claimed. He’s very good with newcomers so feel free to ask him any questions you might have.”
Lucy thanked him for the advice and watched as Barnes galloped off.
“Normally Barnes is more involved in inducting new campers,” George said, “but something big is happening upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
Lucy looked around but all she could see were trees and a few sparse log cabins, all of which looked like they were one storey.
“On Olympus. Zeus’ master bolt is missing and he is not happy. He thinks someone stole it.”
“Who?” Lucy asked.
“He doesn’t know,” George said. “He would have gone to get it back if he could. But he knows a demi-god would have had to have stolen it. There are certain things the gods can’t do and one of those things is steal another god’s items of power. By a demi-god can. And probably has. It’s why Barnes is so nervous. He doesn’t want Zeus to lash out at any of the campers.”
Lucy frowned, eager to ask George more. However he began to walk off, leading her through the trees to a large clearing. Lucy gasped as she took it all in.
There were twelve stone cabins set out in a semi-circle, each looking like a Greek temple. Some seemed to have children exploding from the very fabric of the building, others looked untouched. Each had a number in bronze hanging above the door.
Lucy noticed a few of the people staring at her. The children in cabin number 5 glowered at her, faces full of fury and suspicion. Cabin number 11, which held an eclectic group of young people, mustered up forced smiles.
Lucy found herself locking eyes with the only person she could see who seemed to have anything to do with cabin 1, which was my far the grandest cabin, looking like it was made entirely out of marble. The young man sat at the front of the building on a deck chair despite the overcast weather. He was reading a magazine that looked like it had some scandalous pictures of a Greek god on the front. His hair was coal black and his eyes a deep brown. Lucy wondered if he might have been a god himself, come to the mortal world to produce more demi-gods.
George saw where her gaze hand fallen.
“That’s Anthony Lockwood,” George said. “He’s Zeus’ son.”
“Zeus?” Lucy found herself squeaking out.
She turned to George, wanting to clarify that he wasn’t playing some cruel joke on her.
“Why are you so surprised? Zeus is notorious for sleeping around. Everyone knew he was going to break he agreement.”
“What agreement?” Lucy asked.
George seemed to forget for a moment how new everything was to her because he gave her a look as if she had just asked the most stupid question in the world.
“The big three – Zeus, Poseidon and Hades – agreed not to have any more children after World War Two. We were becoming too powerful.”
Lucy turned sharply to see who had spoken. Anthony Lockwood stood there, a soft smile on his face as he looked Lucy up and down.
“I trust George is answering all your questions.”
“Yes. Yes, he is,” Lucy said. “I’m Lucy Carlyle.”
The boy nodded, telling Lucy he already knew her name.
“You caused quite a stir making an entrance like that,” he told her. “Slaying a minotaur… Not many people can say they’d done that.”
“But your father is Zeus, it doesn’t really compare,” Lucy told him.
She watched as the young man smiled widely. He went to say more but a voice called for him. Lucy looked over to see Barnes standing nearby.
“Sorry. I’d better go and talk to him. I’ll see you around, Miss Carlyle.”
And then the son of Zeus was gone, hurrying across the clearing. Lucy stared after him. Then she turned slowly to George.
“Barnes called him Lockwood. Is he in some sort of trouble?”
“Everyone calls him Lockwood. Or Uncle Tony. He says he doesn’t like being called Uncle Tony but when the younger campers does it you can tell he enjoys it. It’s just him in the cabin after all. I sleep in there sometimes. I’m not meant to but there’s more than enough beds.”
“Do the others have children? Poseidon and Hades?” Lucy asked.
“Poseidon, yes. He has a son, Kipps. He and Lockwood to not get along. Hades doesn’t. He doesn’t even have a cabin here.”
George turned and pointed toward the sea stone cabin with a big number 3 above the door. Lucy saw the face of an older boy watching her through the window and decided to wave to let him know he had been seen. He quickly disappeared from view.
“Number 11 is the Hermes cabin,” George finished. “That’ll be where you stay until you’re claimed. If you’re ever claimed.”
“What do you mean: claimed?” Lucy asked.
George explained that they didn’t exactly know which god she was descended from. There were plenty of potential candidates. Sometimes the parents could be consulted to work out who it was but most of the time the parents had very little clue about who the god really was and the camper would have to wait until their parent decided to let the world know a particular demi-god was theirs. Sometimes they never did it and a child could grow up without every finding out who their parent was.
“Generally if you do something impressive, your parent will claim you. Zeus claimed Lockwood when he was six because he electrocuted a cyclops that was trying to kill his s… A friend of his. Bobby Vernon, one of the Hephaestus boys, got claimed last week for forging a particularly impressive spear. Apparently Hephaestus’ standards are slipping.”
“So I have to prove I’m worthy of a parent?” Lucy clarified.
“Yes,” George said.
“Seriously?”
George paused.
“I mean, we don’t normally make it sound so harsh but, yes, that’s the system. There’s a capture the flag contest coming up at the end of the week. You should join a team. It’s a good way of proving your skills. Might give you a chance to get the ball rolling on being claimed.”
Lucy shook her head.
“I’m not playing their games.”
Danny Clough, the head of the Hermes cabin, was, quite literally, a godsend. He was kind and sensitive, helping Lucy navigate her first few days in the camp and never once judging her for her questions. He helped organise her training classes that involved new recruits that were closer to her age so she wasn’t a head and shoulders taller than the ten- and eleven-year-olds that made up the majority of those who were beginning to train. He answered all her questions on the gods and goddesses and their traditions.
But the Hermes cabin was a very different story. Her mother had had a great number of children. Lucy had been sure that she could handle any size of crowd but the Hermes cabin… There were bunk beds pressed so tightly they almost became one single enormous bed. And at night all the floor space was occupied with campers sleeping on the floor. Lucy found herself often getting up and climbing out of the window at night just to get some space.
She would walk about the camp, listening to the satyrs playing their gentle songs and the dryads gossiping in the forests. A few times she would meet the campers who were training at night or doing patrols. They’d talk to her a little about their respective parents and what being a child of each parent met.
A few times Lucy found herself walking past the Zeus cabin. On the nights where George had come to stay, he and Lockwood would sit drinking tea and talking until the early hours. On the nights George decided to spend with his own kind, Lockwood read in silence. More than once Lucy thought about offering to let him join her on her nightly walks but she didn’t dare. There was a certain reverence that everyone had toward Lockwood. Even the kids who called him Uncle Tony were aware of who his father was and what that meant. He was one of them but he also wasn’t. And Lucy wasn’t sure if she, a lowly unclaimed newcomer who slept on the floor, was allowed to impose herself on the son of the King of the Gods.
The camp was settled in the middle of a forest that sloped down to a beach and a gentle sea. Lucy found she liked to walk along it. There was freedom there, a place where she could escape pressure. She wondered if that was some sign, if she was a child of Poseidon like Kipps, but she didn’t want to ask. She was staying out of that game. She’d tried for too long to get her mother to approve of her. She wasn’t going to spend her life vying for the approval of adults who had never done anything to prove their affection was worth the effort. Norrie had talked her out of that, shown her how fruitless it was. She’d told Lucy that she needed to be herself and let the adults around her deal with it.
And Norrie had gotten claimed so clearly Hermes had agreed with the sentiment.
Lucy was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice there was someone on the beach ahead of her until she was almost upon them.
“You’re out late,” the figure remarked.
Lucy strained against the gloom, able to make out familiar features in the watery moonlight.
“You’re Kipps, Poseidon’s son,” Lucy remarked.
Kipps nodded, holding out his hand. Lucy shook it. He had a strong grip and the sort of intensity in his eyes that Lockwood had. Lucy thought she might have also mistake him for a god if not for George previously introducing him.
“I was worried Uncle Tony might have told you I’m a terrible person. Glad you’re even willing to talk to me.”
“In the brief conversations we’ve had, Lockwood’s never mentioned you,” Lucy said. “George has though. He said you and Lockwood don’t get along.”
“He’s right. We don’t,” Kipps remarked.
He played his hands about absentmindedly and a large bubble of water rose out of the sea. With flicks of his hands, Kipps made it trace pattern in the air.
“Why?”
“Our fathers have historically had friction,” Kipps said.
“And that means you two can’t possibly get along?” Lucy frowned.
Kipps let the bubble of water fall into the sea once more with an unceremonious splash.
“The reason we don’t get along isn’t about our parents,” Kipps told her. “Lockwood is bad news.”
“Why? Because he’s a forbidden child? So are you,” Lucy reminded him.
Kipps shook his head. He turned out to look over the sea and clenched his jaw. Then he turned to Lucy.
“I’m going to tell you the story just because everyone around here already knows. It’s like a legend. And maybe then you’ll see why the only person who really dares get close to Lockwood is George.”
Lucy could not bring herself to speak so she simply nodded.
“We came to camp together. Me, Lockwood, Jessica and George. Jessica was Lockwood’s older sister. He doesn’t like people talking about her. She was a child of Zeus too. Their mother was meant to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Beautiful and witty and mesmerising. The sort of woman in the olden days would have been made a goddess. She had to be something for Zeus to go back to her. She and her husband died when Lockwood was six and the two were taken in by their uncle who didn’t know the first thing about how to look after a kid, let alone a demi-god, so they ran away. Lockwood and Jessica were claimed by Zeus shortly after that because of some business with a cyclops and George – who is a lot older than he looks – showed up to take them to camp. I was living in one of the towns they stopped over in. We found each other and lived on the run for just shy of four years. George kept wanting us to come back to camp but Jessica refused. She didn’t trust adults. But the danger became too great and Lockwood… He was reckless. He still is now. He kept picking fights we didn’t need. So Jessica agreed to let George bring us here.”
Kipps sighed. He turned his gaze back inland to where a tall tree stood on the top of the hill, towering high above the rest.
“Lockwood ran off one evening. He wanted to pick a fight, one last hurrah before we were imprisoned in camp. That’s how he talked about it, like it was a prison and not a sanctuary. He picked a fight with a pack of hellhounds. Practically an army. Too many for us. We tried to get to camp but there was no way we were going to make it before they caught up with us. So Jessica stayed behind to slow them down, give us time to get away. And they caught her and they were going to kill her. Zeus intervened at the final second. He turned her into a tree. That tree.”
He pointed to the tall tree on the horizon.
“It strengthens the camp’s defences. But Lockwood blames me for what happened. Like I should have been the one to stay behind or something. He is never going to forgive me for not being the person who died up on that hill. I’m never going to be able to forgive him for being the reason someone had to die on that hill.”
He turned back to Lucy, a very stern look in his eye.
“You should stay away from Lockwood,” Kipps said. “Things are… Things are becoming more complicated than ever now and he is a loose cannon. He’s going to get someone else killed eventually. Best not to let it be you.”
“Shouldn’t you be giving these warnings to George?” Lucy asked.
“Trust me, I’ve warned him a dozen times. Lockwood’s got him under his spell. George don’t hear a word I have to say.”
The first tournament of capture the flag came and went. Lucy didn’t take part. She sat at the lunch tables with George as he talked her through what the games were like as if the reason she had decided not to join in was because she wasn’t familiar with the rules.
The red team won. That meant the children of Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite and Hephaestus and the singular child of Poseidon had claimed victory. Lockwood, had stormed back to his cabin, shedding his blue armour as he had gone.
“He’s not happy,” Lucy remarked.
“He’s very competitive,” George said. “He and Kipps are always on opposite teams. They act like it’s their fathers’ honour at stake if they win or lose. And the blue team really has to just rely on him, the Apollo kids and the Ares kids. The children of Dionysus spend their time messing around and the children of Demeter are all a bit wet. We should head inside though. When Lockwood gets this annoyed, he’ll go outside, train and start a thunderstorm. Happens every time.”
He stood up to go, packing up his books as he did so. Then he said his goodbyes and hurried off toward the satyr cabins. Lucy stood, watching as a gathering of victorious Hermes kids began to file back into the cabin. They were sweaty and whooping, basking in their victory. Lucy got the feeling it would be like being in a crowded locker room with a winning football team. Only a dozen times more crowded.
She was not at all interested.
She turned, looking about the place to see where she might be able to find refugee. The Hera cabin, cabin number two, was always empty. It had been built to honour the goddess but she would never break her marriage to cheat on her husband even if Zeus seemed to be able to control himself. But Lucy found her gaze being pulled to the cabin to the side of Hera’s, the cabin of the king of the gods himself.
Lucy wondered if anyone had actually braved the storm – both physical and metaphorical – and gone to talk to Lockwood when he was in such a mood. Perhaps it might bring it to a swift end.
She decided it was her place to try.
Lockwood was down in the arena set out for practicing sword work, disembowelling straw dummies. He made it look like artwork. Lucy couldn’t help but compare the ferocity and grace to a fire, destroying everything in its path as it danced along.
But perhaps the better analogy was lightning. The way Lockwood moved was certainly as eye-catching. Lucy couldn’t look away, despite the wind buffeting her and the rain soaking through her orange t-shirt.
She began to approach, deciding she would have to signal to him she was coming or else she could very easily end up like one of the dummies he was murdering.
“I’m not very good at this,” Lucy called over the howling wind. “Sword fighting.”
Lockwood almost seemed to jump at her presence. He turned sharply. Rain had stuck his hair flat against his scalp, strands clinging to his forehead. He looked her up and down.
“Maybe a spear is more your thing. Or a bow and arrow.”
“I’m not very good with them either,” Lucy replied. “I just can’t seem to get the hang of it.”
“You just haven’t unlocked it yet,” Lockwood shrugged.
He turned away, slashing his sword to and thro at invisible enemies. Lucy watched mesmerised. She could understand why Zeus had claimed him when he was so young. He was powerful and skilled enough even forgetting the storm he had whipped up in his temper.
“Unlocked what?”
“It. The battle instinct. Your body has always had it there but people will have acted like it’s something wrong with you, like the fact you can’t sit still, that your body reacts to everything… They’ll have tried to suppress it. You need to learn it’s not a bad thing here.”
“And perhaps not be trained in a class with a group of ten-year-olds,” Lucy remarked to herself, dryly.
“Well, there is that,” Lockwood added.
The storm seemed to die away suddenly. Sunlight broke through the thick clouds and glistened in Lockwood’s eyes. He wiped rain off his brow and turned to Lucy.
“No one else will train with me,” he said.
“I’ve watched you with those dummies. There’s clearly a reason for that,” Lucy remarked.
Lockwood looked sheepishly at the straw innards scattered by the storm.
“If I teach you to sword fight, make you as good as me, will you train with me?” Lockwood asked.
“If you can make me as good as you, then yes,” Lucy replied.
Lockwood’s smile only grew brighter. Lucy couldn’t help but smile back.
“Let me go and get a sword for you, Miss Carlyle.”
He began to sprint off.
“Please call me Lucy!” Lucy shouted after him.
Training with Lockwood was punishing. He was waiting outside the Hermes cabin for her before breakfast and they trained. Then they ate at the Zeus table (Lucy doing her best to ignore all the people staring when she joined Lockwood and George there) and did their separate activities and chores. The moment they were done, they met back up at the arena and practiced until every muscle in Lucy’s body ached.
Something about the way Lockwood moved, the speed, the way he didn’t go easy on her… Lucy began to feel ‘it’ unlocking. Her body was getting used to responding instinctively to each attack, to having her sword blocking the next blow without her having time to think or panic.
“The next capture the flag is tomorrow,” Lockwood remarked as Lucy collapsed into a sweaty heap at the end of their last training session. “You should join the blue team. You’re more than good enough.”
“I’m part of the Hermes cabin. Doesn’t that mean I have to be on red?”
“No. Unclaimed can go wherever they want,” Lockwood said. “What do you say, Luce? Will you let me claim you?”
He offered his hand down and Lucy accepted it, allowing him to drag her to her feet.
“No, Lockwood. I’m not… I don’t want to get involved in all of that. I just… My mother was a terrible person and it took me a long time to accept that and stop trying to chase some ounce of affection from her. In fact, it took Norrie, telling me how mad it was, for me to realise she was absolutely right. So I’m not… I’m not going to play the game, try to impress some man sitting on a cloud who never did anything for me. I’m done with all that.”
She expected Lockwood to say something more, to try to convince her. She had learnt he could be relentless when it suited him to be.
“I understand. Just… consider it for the future. If you don’t want to try to impress the gods, that is fine. But you don’t want to not do things you’d enjoy just because they might be watching. No point punishing yourself over them being stupid.”
The main area of the camp was almost entirely empty when games of capture the flag were on. Lucy and George sat at the Zeus table – a place where they had been given full and unrestricted permission to make use off from Lockwood himself – and talked. George was quizzing Lucy on the various types of monster she might encounter, showing her pictures and getting her to say their names and weaknesses.
“But they can’t get in here, right? You said the minotaur couldn’t get in. And Kipps mentioned something about a barrier.”
George paused for a second, studying Lucy’s face.
“Kipps told you about what happened, didn’t he? That’s your ‘I probably shouldn’t have said that’ face.”
Lucy nodded. She watched George shake his head mournfully.
“We don’t mention Jessica around Lockwood. It’s a very touchy subject. And we don’t ask where he went if he is coming from that direction because he was inevitably up there with her telling her all of his news. He’s been going up there more recently too.”
“Really? I haven’t seen him.”
“He does it as night,” George said. “It’s this whole business with the master bolt. Zeus is sure a demi-god has done it now. And he thinks he knows who they did it on behalf of. Zeus hasn’t said it outright, not yet. But he’s been talking about taking action and Barnes believes the action he is going to take is going to involve him making Lockwood do something for him. Go and steal something from the god who ordered the master bolt be stolen or kill the demi-god who took it. If Zeus does do that, Lockwood’s going to be stuck. An act like that would mean a guaranteed war between the gods but if Lockwood defies Zeus… Zeus has never had any qualms about punishing any of his sons before.”
“Well can we do anything, help in some…”
Suddenly the ground shook. Lucy turned to look at George. His eyes were tracing a flock of birds rapidly taking to a darkening sky.
"Oh no," George grimaced. "They're at it again!"
He got up and began to high tail it toward the beach. Lucy frowned, abandoning her tray to go after him.
As she ran, a blinding flash of lightning filled the sky, impacting somewhere on the beach up ahead. Lucy heard the racing of hooves and was forced to dodge a centaur racing down to the beach. The centaur skillfully leapt over a gathering of campers, frozen into place.
Lucy was almost knocked off her feet as another terrible shudder shook the earth. She wondered what she was racing to, wondered if it wouldn't be the far more sensible thing to ran back and take shelter.
And then she was at the beach.
George was battling his way through a gathered crowd of campers. They were in their armour, blue and red crests mixed together in a muddle. Whatever was happening, it had superseded the importance of the capture the flag game.
Lucy pushed her way through the crowd until she reached the front.
Immediately she stopped dead.
The sky above was black as night, an intense storm swelling above. The water had the same energy as a tiger pacing its cage, hungry for the prey just out of its reach. Two young men stood in the sand, armed, standing off against each other.
Lockwood and Kipps.
"Stop this now!" Barnes bellowed as he reached the front of the crowd.
Neither boy looked at him. Instead Lockwood flicked his hand. A blast of lightning flew down from the sky. Kipps only just reacted in time, forming a shield of water above his head. It caused the lightning to arc away from him and a nearbyboy yelped and leapt back as electrified water burnt his hand. Lockwood prepared another move just as Kipps made his. The water suddenly lurched forward, almost as if t was clawing its way up the beach. It reached Lockwood, wrapping itself around his ankles as it began to retreat. Lockwood held firm, stopping the water from pulling him as he fired a second blast at Kipps. Lucy’s stomach dropped however. She watched as a little boy standing closer to the water was too caught up by it. He was not as strong as Lockwood, not able to resist the pull. He grabbed at the arm of a friend, terror filling his face.
"Stop this at once!" Barnes roared.
He didn’t dare get between the two boys and they didn't seem to hear him.
People are going to die, Lucy realised. People are doing to get killed and they aren't even going to notice.
“Stop it!” Lucy screamed, racing forward.
She passed Barnes, coming to a stop right between the boys. Her eyes screwed shut as she braced herself. She was prepared to feel the sudden burn of lightning, prepared to choke as water flooded her lungs. Instead, there was nothing. The boys didn’t seem to respond at all.
Lucy slowly peeled one eye open. Then another.
Her jaw dropped.
Out of the sand had risen two black plinths of rock, each one beneath one of the boys. And out of the plinths rose more rock, the same terrible black colour. It wrapped about the two boys, rendering them immobile no matter how hard they tried to struggle. Lucy watched the as the rock continued to grow about the boys, solidifying, creeping up their bodies and onto their necks.
“Carlyle,” Barnes said.
There was a warning in his tone, as if he was scolding Lucy for something.
And Lucy wished the rock would stop. It looked like it was beginning to choke both boys, crush them inside their terrible prisons.
The rock stopped. And then it began to recede any beneath them. Lockwood and Kipps both dropped unceremoniously to the floor, choking and heaving and gasping in desperate breaths. George rushed to Lockwood’s side, asking him if he was okay. Some of Kipps’ red armour clad allies descended upon him, clumsily helping him to his feet.
Lucy heard gasps filling the air. The little murmuring that had begun to start up immediately died away. Lucy followed their eyes to something above her head. Above her, she could see some black and orange item suspended, like the burnt remains of a flag fluttering in the wind. Beyond that, the terrible storm was beginning to dissipate. Unsure what to make of it, Lucy turned back to the other campers. One by one, they dropped to their knees in reverence. Even Kipps sunk back down to his knees.
Barnes slowly approached.
“You have been claimed by Hades, The Unseen, Receiver of Many. Lucy Carlyle: daughter of Hades.”
Lucy felt her stomach twisting as she turned back to the other campers. They were still kneeling, eyes turned to her as if they expected some brilliant speech or some great and glorious feat. And then someone stood. Lucy watched as Lockwood stormed away, back up the hill to the camp, electricity crackling around him.
That seemed to break the spell. Everyone turned to stare at Lockwood.
“You think Hades is going to have the earth swallow him up?” Lucy heard one of Kipps’ friends whisper.
“Of course not. He’s Zeus’ son. He doesn’t have to kneel.”