My longest Water Balloon fic yet. I'm so happy I finally finished!

IMPORTANT INFORMATION: This takes place BEFORE The Last Olympian, but AFTER The Battle of the Labyrinth. If you didn't know that, then you'd probably be confused about a few things until the very end.

Enjoy!

I never thought of Paul Blofis as a superstitious person.

I mean, being an English teacher and all, he probably read the reasons for something happening before he read about the actual thing. Like why mortals believe day is day and night is night. Or why girls supposedly mature faster than boys. Or why skateboarding is ten times better than snowboarding. You get what I'm talking about.

So, you can understand why he wouldn't believe me if I told him my dad was Poseidon. He'd probably call me crazy, and then explain to me word for word why the sea acts how it does (or at least the mortal definition), and why it is theoretically impossible for my dad to be Poseidon if he doesn't exist.

So, then, how did I manage to break the news to my stepfather?

Well…let's just say that it wasn't pretty.

My day started out as regular as it could get. Long classes, annoying teachers, bloodthirsty school bullies…the usual. It was when I was walking home from school when my step father, Paul Blofis, conveniently pulled up in his Prius right behind me. And that's when things went a little…different.

"Percy!" he cried, surprising me. I jumped, hand instinctively reaching for Riptide before realizing it was only him. Graciously, he ignored my spasm.

"I'm on my way to your place." he explained in an easy tone. "Do you want a ride?"

I grinned, nodding. Paul was a cool guy. He was probably as understanding and pleasant as any middle aged, high school English teacher could get. But that didn't mean he'd let me cheat on my homework assignments. Far from it.

On the way there, just as we pulled up on the curb, he suddenly turned around. "So, what do you think you're going to do this summer?"

I hesitated. Despite what my mom and I had agreed upon earlier, we still hadn't told my stepfather about my godly parentage. Or camp. Or even the fact that I could probably beat him in any sport he'd try to win at. But then again, that probably had nothing to do with being a demigod.

"I…uh…" I was stuck. What could I tell him? It wasn't like I could just up and say, "Oh, I'm just going to a camp that teaches you how to fight monsters, survive in the mortal world, and hope I don't die." That probably wouldn't get the best reaction.

Paul, however, appeared to be excited by my uncertainty. "Well," he said hurriedly, "before you make up your mind, it just so happens that I found a good summer school for kids with dyslexia." Immediately, he started digging around in his briefcase, ignoring the indignant stare I was giving him as he shuffled through homework assignments and grading reports. "I know a few friends that went there and they said that they all had a great time."

"Am I assuming that your friends can drink and drive and teach?" I asked dryly.

He laughed, briefly giving up his briefcase search. "Touché, Percy."

But then he gave me his best pleading look, as if he were trying to explain through his thoughts that he really thought it would be good for me. Unfortunately for him, being a demigod didn't include mind reading.

"I'm sorry Paul." I said carefully, making sure my words didn't reveal too much. "But I think I might be going back to that summer camp I went to last year."

Paul's face dropped in disappointment, but then it grew clear again just as quickly. "Percy," he sighed, "Are you sure you want to go back to the same place?" He cut off my immediate protests by holding up his hands. "I mean, there will be new people. New things. Different things. And I can assure you that your old friends won't be the same as before."

I answered with a response only a demigod would give him. An irritated glare.

"Paul." I tried to reason with him as I held back my rising temper. What did he know about my friends and Camp Half Blood? "I've been going to that camp for 4 years. I think I know what it's like."

My stepfather held up his hands again, only this time in surrender. "Whatever you say.

"But don't forget about the other offer."

I growled under my breath, taking back what I'd said earlier. Paul might be a cool guy, but that didn't mean he was different from other adults. They were almost all as blind a Minotaur, and it had nothing to do with the Mist.

At least, most of the time.

As I got out of the car, another surprise presented itself to me. This time it was in the form of a girl. A girl that happened to be named Annabeth Chase.

"Percy Jackson!" she cried from the street over, obviously riled up about something as she began to stomp her way towards me. I glanced at Paul, who was staring at her and then back at me in a mixture of confusion and fear. I didn't blame him. A mad Annabeth was not something you wanted to mess with.

But the first question in my mind was why the heck she was here. The last time I'd seen her was at Camp, right after the Battle of the Labyrinth. She was in Manhattan? Since when was she in Manhattan?

And what the Hades was she yelling at me for?

"A-Annabeth?" I stuttered. Her eyes flashed. Seemingly oblivious to Paul, her hands curled up into a fist, as if she were gonna punch me. When she came to a stop in front of me, though, she lowered it slowly, as if deciding against it. Thank the gods.

"Why didn't you tell me there was an attack near your school yesterday?" she demanded. I frowned, confused. An attack near Goode? What was she talking about?

"I don't know what you're talking about." I repeated out loud. "What attack?"

"A monster ambushed two campers yesterday, right next to your school, and you didn't know?" Her voice edged up two octaves.

I glanced at Paul, who looked as though he were torn between breaking up our argument or just walking away. Annabeth followed my line of sight, and then tensed. It finally seemed to dawn on her that we had company; he didn't have a clue of what we were talking about.

"Does he know?" she asked, her anger slowly dying out. I shook my head. It was only then did I realize that something really bad must have happened to make her this angry, and miss something as important as my mortal stepfather.

"Maybe we should take this argument inside." Paul finally spoke up. I nodded. Annabeth's eyes flashed again, provoking a flinch from Paul, and she stormed to the front door of my house.

"Um…" Paul stared at Annabeth as she came to a rest at the top of the stairs, glaring at me to hurry up and unlock the door. "Should I assume that you two already know each other? Well?"

I chuckled humorlessly. "Assume away."

Once inside, Annabeth immediately walked over to the kitchen table and plopped down onto one of the chairs.

"Percy, are you home?" I heard my mom, Sally Jackson, call from one of the other rooms.

"He's here dear." Paul replied for me, and then glanced at Annabeth through the corner of his eye. "And one of his school friends too."

"Um," Annabeth said hesitantly, obviously regretting her previous actions, "I'm actually not from around here."

"Oh…"

The awkward was finally broken when my mother came in from the kitchen. The moment she saw Annabeth, her eyes lit up.

"Annabeth! So nice to see you again! Percy never told me you were coming back to Manhattan!"

I groaned. Of course. Blame Percy for every little ounce of information he never even knew about.

Annabeth answered for me. "Don't blame him, Ms. Jackson. He didn't know either."

My mom nodded, and smiled. Holding out her famous baking pan, she offered a sheet of golden brown perfection. "Cookies?"

To my surprise, Annabeth turned green, and shook her head. "No thanks, Mr. Jackson. Not today."

I, on the other hand, couldn't bear to waste fresh cookies. So I grabbed a handful.

The silence from before appeared again, the awkwardness only interrupted by my chewing the cookie in my hand. My mom was staring at Annabeth expectantly, waiting for her to explain her sudden appearance, and my stepfather was staring at her as well, sizing her up and obviously wondering who the heck she was.

Surprisingly, it was me who broke the silence. "So…" I started awkwardly, hastily swallowing the last crumbs of cookie in my mouth. All eyes turned to me, and my voice quieted some. "What happened near my school that I should know about?"

Annabeth opened her mouth to explain, but then immediately thought better of it as her attention turned to Paul. Again, she asked me, "Does he know?"

I shook my head as Paul started to complain. "I haven't told him yet."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Figures."

"Hey!"

"Um, kids?" Paul finally managed to say, as both Annabeth and I were locked in a glaring contest again. "Mind telling me what exactly you haven't told me yet? It would be nice if I were in the loop too."

Nobody took up his offer.

Paul ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He turned to my mom, who simply met his gaze with a steady look. I glanced at Annabeth, who was staring at me, and shrugged. For a moment, I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, that something bad would happen, and the irreversible would occur. Things would never be the same again.

"Percy…" Paul tried again.

And that was when the front door was blown off its hinges.

My mom screamed. I threw my hands over my face to protect my eyes from the debris, all the while reaching for Riptide in my back pocket. Annabeth was quicker. By the time I'd blinked the spots out of my eyes, I saw her standing up, knife drawn and a grim look on her face. I turned to my mom, who was lying on the ground, and then at Paul, who was staring at me with a wild expression.

"Honey! I'm home!"

A growly, half grunting voice came through the entrance, while a strangely harmonious undertone settled in my mind. The thing standing in front of the door grinned at me through red, leering eyes. I blinked, thinking as though the dust from the explosion had muddled my eyesight. But it hadn't.

The monster was over seven feet tall, broad shouldered, and wearing classic Greek battle armor. The armor itself, surprisingly, seemed to be made out of pure gold, shining a blinding light whenever I looked at it too closely. Strangely enough, he almost seemed to have wings sprouting out from his back, greasy and leathery like a bats. But that wasn't the weirdest part.

His head was that of a boar, as were his hands and his legs. Hairy tufts of coarse fur sprouted out from under his armor, blending inhumanly with his skin as damp, greasy straggles of human hair stuck out all around. Long, sharp tusks sprouted out from the sides of his face, gleaming in the armor's glow and almost laughing in deadly delight. He almost reminded me of the Erymanthian boar we'd fought with the Hunters of Artemis, complete with ugly face and everything. A close relative, perhaps?

He took a step inside, glancing nonchalantly at the ruined furniture. Hefting his golden spear, he looked at me and spoke again. "Or should I say…brother?"

"Chrysaor." Annabeth hissed, her celestial bronze knife glinting in the light. Chrysaor turned around to glare at her.

"Daughter of Athena." He said coolly, a hint of menace in strange voice. But then he turned back around to me, ignoring her again. I pulled out Riptide, feeling the comforting heaviness of the pen transforming into blade, and held it out in front of me in defense. Chrysaor grinned.

"Brother." He said, merely glancing at the celestial bronze blade before continuing, "Would you really strike down another Son of Poseidon?"

His words startled me, almost to the point where the tip of my blade lowered a degree. Chrysaor was another Son of Poseidon? Why didn't I know?

Annabeth's words snapped me out of my confusion. "Don't fall for it!" she said urgently, her eyes never leaving the half boar man in front of her. "Chrysaor was born from the blood of Medusa, just as she was first killed by your namesake, Perseus." She then finally turned around to face me as her lips curved into a grim smile. "But he's right about one thing. We all know who the father is."

Chrysaor turned to glare at Annabeth while I blinked in surprise. My father and Medusa. One of the first monsters I'd ever killed; who my mother had petrified my first step father with. He was the offspring of the lady with the snake hair, created from the very meeting with my dad that bestowed on her her famous curse?

Wow. Small world.

"Enough, Daughter of Athena." He hissed. Raising his spear, he pointed it at her chest. "I must face with my brother, alone. Leave us now."

To my surprise, she shook her head defiantly. "I'm not leaving Percy."

Chrysaor's red eyes suddenly grew bright. "So be it, Daughter of Athena."

So fast that I didn't see, he swung his spear with a yell, spinning it so that it wasn't the point flying toward Annabeth, but the butt of the handle. I saw Annabeth's eyes widen before the spear hit her on her side, throwing her across the room before she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

"Annabeth!" My mom called from behind me, surprising me. I'd all but forgotten she was there. I spun around to face her and Paul, for a second throwing my attention completely away from Chrysaor.

"Go!" I cried, aiming my words mainly at Paul. He met my eyes and understood, immediately grabbing my mom's arm and dragging her away from the rubble and toward the fire escape. But he hadn't made it halfway before his eyes suddenly widened and he called out, "Percy!"

It wasn't a second after that a bolt of pain lit up my shoulder. Internally, I cursed at myself for forgetting about Chrysaor, for dropping my guard. The momentum of his attack threw me forward, directly toward the ground as Paul let go of my mom to run to me.

"No!" Annabeth screamed, having recovered enough to stand up, though still wobbly. "Paul, get Percy's mom out of here!"

Paul, after a second of indecision, finally complied, running after my mom toward the exit. From the ground on which I was lying, I could see his footsteps gradually fade away. When I heard the creak of a window being opened, I knew that they were safe.

But I wasn't. Just as painfully as it had been before, Chrysaor placed a heavy boot on my back and pulled the spear out of my shoulder, slowly. I screamed out loud, never having felt anything as bad is this. Vaguely, in my haze of pain, I sensed Annabeth rushing toward me, knife raised, and Chrysaor behind me, laughing.

"Oh, little demigod." He teased. "Our father would be shamed if all his sons were as weak as you."

The jibe at my father's status sparked a bolt of anger inside me, as I immediately struggled to rise. His heavy boot pushed me down again, flaring a new wave of pain in my shoulder. I was almost afraid to see how damaged it was.

"Percy…" Annabeth said nervously, having finally reached me, her eyes alternating between me to Chrysaor. Chrysaor looked at her and laughed.

"Foolish Athena-spawn." He said malevolently, "One more step and my new brother will be freshly reacquainted with my spear. Perhaps this time in a more painful place."

My hands searched for Riptide as Annabeth stared at me with an anxious expression. Groping the ground, I spoke through gritted teeth. "As much fun as it is meeting you and your little toy, why are you here? What have I done to you?"

Chrysaor behind me bristled, driving his foot deeper into my back. I clenched my teeth. Annabeth shifted nervously besides me.

"Revenge."

Annabeth frowned before a look of understanding lit up her face. Glancing at me, she said slowly, "We had no choice in killing Geryon. He was threatening to sell us out to the Titan army."

Angrily, Chrysaor pounded his spear against the floor, inches from my face. I winced from the spear as my brain struggled to keep up with Annabeth. Geryon, Chrysaor…Geryon had a tie to Chrysaor…

"He was my son!" he cried. Leveling his spear with Annabeth, he growled in a very boar-like way, "He was my only son, and you killed him."

I grimaced as my search for Riptide came up empty. "Hate you tell you, pop's." I said, "But I don't think Geryon would win any awards in the Best-Host or Fair-Dealer category. I had to muck out a thousand tons of poop for him."

Chrysaor pounded his spear besides my face again. "Quiet." He hissed.

I looked up to see Annabeth's face morphed once again into confusion. "But…" she hesitated. "But I thought you were a god."

Chrysaor chuckled humorlessly as a new thought occurred to me. If Riptide wasn't on the floor, then he had to be in my…

"That's what all the stories say." He growled. "But tell me, daughter of Athena, if Medusa were given such a harsh punishment for simply meeting with my father in a sacred site, imagine what it must be like for her spawn."

Annabeth glanced at me as I slowly reached into my pocket. "But what about Pegasus?"

Chrysaor angrily flapped his wings. He growled. "That no-good horse brained brother of mine. He got off easy because he was the nicer looking one."

I smirked, relief flooding through me as my fingers found what they were looking for. "Nice family." I commented.

And that was when I struck.

Chrysaor cried out in pain as I brought down Riptide on his leg, cutting through the armor and into flesh. My injured shoulder screamed in agony from the abrupt motion though, and I struggled not to black out as Chrysaor howled above me.

Annabeth immediately sprang into action. So fast that I almost missed it, she ran forward, knocking away Chrysaor's spear and aiming her knife at his chest in one fluid motion. Before he could react, her blade plunged into his chest, twisting in the last few inches for good measure.

The force of Chrysaor's dying screamed nearly knocked me back down on my back. I closed my eyes against the sudden brightness of his armor, the blinding flash as he disintegrated into nothing. The back of my mind that wasn't too occupied with pain randomly commented on how Annabeth was wrong. Chrysaor was no normal monster. He had to have some godly blood in him.

I didn't realize that my eyes were still closed even after Chrysaor disappeared until I felt Annabeth shaking me to wake up. "Seaweed Brain," she hissed impatiently. "Come on. Open your eyes!"

I sputtered as I came to. "Uh…huh?"

Annabeth let go of my shoulder, and leaned back on her heels. If I wasn't mistaken, there was almost a look of concern in her eyes. Taking in my bleeding form, she asked me, "How are you feeling?"

I grimaced. Just barely managing to sit upright, my hand reached for my shoulder in a vain attempted to assess the damage. They came away bloody. "Try being shish-ca-bobbed in the shoulder and entitled footstool of a giant, and then tell me what it feels like."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything. Jerking upright, I noticed in her rough motion that she was favoring her right side.

"You're hurt." I said, remembering how Chrysaor had knocked her across the room. Had she been like that the whole time?

Annabeth shook her head. "You're worse." Then she started walking away, gesturing for me to follow. "Come on, I think I have some ambrosia in my bag…"

Just then, my parents decided that it was safe enough to come back in. "Percy?" my mom asked as she stepped in from the fire escape. Her eyes widened as she took in my back. "Percy! What happened?"

I grimaced at her expression, half halfheartedly waving it off. "Don't worry." I reassured. "Some ambrosia and water should do the trick."

Paul followed my mom in, eyes harboring a similar look. "Percy…" he trailed off.

I waved them off again. "Don't worry about me."

But Paul wouldn't listen. Before I'd realized it, he'd picked up the phone. The remaining blood in my face drained away as I realized what he was doing. "No, Paul, no!"

He froze with the phone halfway to his ear. Giving me a look that asked if I were crazy, he demanded, "What do you mean, Percy?"

Annabeth came up beside me, her eyes wary. Her tone more commanding, she said, "Paul, set the phone down and we'll explain." She fixed me with a meaningful stare. "We'll explain everything."

I gulped. But it did the trick. Paul, though reluctantly, gradually set the phone down on the charger, and walked forward a few steps for good measure. We all let out a collective groan, though I winced as the movement jarred my open wound, sending another spike of pain throughout my shoulder and upper back. I noticed Annabeth's eyes furrow.

"How bad is it?" I asked her grimly. She hesitated, and then shrugged, gesturing at her bag.

"You may need some extra ambrosia."

Paul finally stepped back in, his expression confused. "Ambrosia?" he asked.

Annabeth shrugged, simultaneously reaching in her bag for a Ziploc of the godly food. "It's like medicine for us." she explained generally, arm shuffling through all her stuff to get to the bottom. As she pulled out the Ziploc, Paul's eyebrows rose at the simplicity of it.

She shrugged. "A very effective medicine."

She broke off a chunk for herself, but handed me a full cube. My eyebrows rose. Incredulously, I asked, "You really want me to burn up?"

She grimaced. "Just eat it."

And I did. As the warm, energizing taste of my mom's blue cookies flooded my mouth, I felt my shoulder slowly healing. Paul quietly gasped behind me, but I ignored him, silently reveling as my new aches and pains melted away, only spoiled by the fiery aftertaste. Instinctively, I knew that if Annabeth had given me any more, I surely would have burst into flames.

"You okay?" Annabeth asked me, already finished with her piece. I nodded.

"Uh huh."

Paul spoke up again, though this time expression more unnerved. "Okay," he demanded. "Will you two please explain to me how you two are suddenly okay, and what the heck do you mean by 'us'?" He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation before any of us could say anything. "I mean, I drive Percy home from school today, just a normal day from work, and next thing I know there's a crazy pig-man attacking this house, a girl that seems to have life saving ice cubes in her bag, and a lot of loose ends that need to be tied up." He pointed an accusing finger at me, angrier than I've ever seen him in a long time. "Start explaining young man."

I decided to make it blunt. Staring him in the eye, I explained it the simplest way I could. "Paul. Annabeth and I are half god."

All movement besides me froze. My mom stared at Paul with wary eyes, afraid of his reaction. Annabeth blinked, but said nothing, settling for simply backing me up when the time came. Paul himself backtracked, not expecting my answer. I went on, ignoring the way his jaw suddenly seemed to detach and widen.

"We're called demigods, half bloods. My dad, my real dad, is Poseidon, the god of the seas." I gestured at Annabeth, who was nodding in affirmation. "Annabeth's mom is Athena, the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. She specializes in anything brainiac or logistical." Annabeth rolled her eyes.

Paul's jaw remained slack, a strange, guttural sound coming from the back of his throat. For a moment, I was worried that he'd gone temporarily brain dead. "Uh huh…" he finally managed, weakly.

Annabeth smoothly carried on in my explanation. "That huge creep that blew up our door?" she explained, "His name was Chrysaor. He's the son of Medusa and Poseidon, and the father of Geryon, the three bodied cattle rancher. We killed his son a month ago."

A new thought occurred to me as she reminded me of Geryon. I frowned, all attention on Paul erased.

"If we killed Geryon a month ago," I asked, "why did Chrysaor suddenly come after us now?"

Annabeth looked at me with a grim expression. "Kronos is rounding up new lieutenants." she said as means of explanation. I paled. She nodded at my expression. "I know. It's gonna be a lot harder to win this war if there are monsters like Chrysaor leading the army."

My mom finally spoke up. "Do you think more will come after you?"

I shook my head at her tone. "I doubt it." I reassured her. "Chrysaor came to us for revenge. We haven't ticked off any other monsters lately." I noticed Annabeth's look, and then added as an afterthought, "At least, not that many."

Annabeth held up her Ziploc bag, still grasped in her hand. "Do you have enough ambrosia in case something bad happens?"

I shook my head. "I'll restock when I get to Camp."

"That's too far away. You'll need some now."

"Are you trying to say that I purposely get into situations like these?"

"Uh, guys?" My mom cut in nervously. We ignored her.

"No, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said sarcastically, "you just happen to find yourself battling a monster wherever you go. Remember that time with The Hound?"

"Hey!" I complained, "He found me, not the other way around."

"Sure he did."

"I'm serious!"

"Uh huh."

"Come on!"

"Guys…" My mom tried again.

"You realize that if you'd try looking where you go, you might actually get somewhere without finding trouble."

"What are you talking about? You're a Daughter of Athena. It's easy for you to spot danger."

"What kind of excuse is that?"

"A true one!"

"Kids!" My mom exclaimed sharply. My head swiveled around to face her, surprised at her tone. Annabeth did the same. My mom took a deep breath, annoyance draining away to be replaced by amusement. She pointed at the ground besides her.

"I don't think Paul can take any more surprises today."

I followed her finger down to a crumpled heap on the ground. It took me a second to realize what it was.

"Wow…" Annabeth said, surprised. I chuckled once, unable to summarize it better than that.

"Paul…he…" I tried saying with a straight face. Failed miserably.

"He…"

"Did he really…?"

"I think so…"

Paul, my high school English teacher and mortal stepfather, had fainted.

Epilogue:

I was in my room, alone in the house for a moment. The final plans for the attack on Princess Andromeda (the ship) had been laid out in front of me, ready for a final check.

"Are you okay, Percy?" Annabeth said from above me.

I looked up at the Iris Message of her, staring at me with an intense expression. My gut tensed as I realized what she meant. If I messed up, then I would be putting noting only myself, but other campers at risk. Months of preparation would have been done for nothing. Campers would lose any chance of defeating the Titan army. Even so, I couldn't resist taking a jibe at her. "Do I detect some concern for my well being?" I asked wryly.

She rolled her eyes. "Screw this up, and I'll personally go down into the Underworld to kill you again."

I shrugged, unperturbed. "I would be surprised if you didn't."

The minutes faded into a tense silence again as we both searched the plan, looking for any chink of problem there could be. With all the risks we were taking, there were bound to be some.

Finally, Annabeth huffed impatiently. Obviously trying to make small talk, she asked, "So, what did Paul do when he woke up?"

It took me less than a minute to understand what she was talking about. I shrugged, silently grinning to myself as the memories poured in. "I think he thought it all was a dream."

Annabeth above me chuckled, unsurprised. "And what did you say?" she asked.

I turned around to face her, a big grin plastered on my face. "Well…" I started.

Annabeth tried to smack me through the Iris Message, almost disbanding the signal as her hand faded to mist the moment it touched my skin. "Percy!" she chastised. "Tell me that you told him the truth."

I backed away indignantly. "Watch it!" I complained. And then I continued. "Calm down, Wise Girl. I did repeat everything I'd said earlier. He just still didn't believe me."

Annabeth visibly relaxed, settling down in whatever she was sitting in behind her. I rolled my eyes.

"You think he'll be ready for the war?" she said grimly after an awkward moment of silence. I hesitated, and then shook my head.

"Doubt it."

The silence dragged on again, both of us unable to find the right thing to say. Finally, after looking over the plans again, fiddling with my shirt, biting my lip, and flicking a stray piece of paper besides me, I came up with something.

"You know what I can't wait for, though?" I said wryly. Annabeth started from the interruption in the silence. After a surprised moment, she asked.

"What?"

I turned to face her once more, another grin on my face. I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair, trying to mimic a person at ease. Impatiently, Annabeth asked again.

"What can't you wait for?"

My smile widened even more. "If we win this war, do you think he'll give me less homework?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and promptly refrained from answering, lapsing back into silence. I continued indignantly.

"I mean, come on! We would have saved the world! That has to count for something, right?"

To my surprise, when Annabeth turned to look at me again, her face was serious. "If we lose, Percy," she said severely, "There won't even be a world to have homework from." She shook her head. "Just make sure we win, and then we'll see."

I lapsed back into silence, troubled. Finally, unable to face the tense feeling I suddenly had in my gut, I said one last thing.

"But wait until he sees what I can do with water."

"Percy…"

"I'm reviewing! I'm reviewing!"

"You'd better be."

A second of silence, and then…

"…at least he's not trying to send me to that dyslexia camp anymore…"

"Di immortales!"

Gasp…gasp…gasp…finally finished

I actually searched up a list of Greek monsters, and Chrysaor was just one of the many interesting ones I found. One small variation I made, however, was the fact that he looked half man, half boar, and half giant.
That's NOT TECHNICALLY TRUE.
In some myths, they say Chrysaor is a giant. Others say he is a boar with wings. Others say he's just a man. I decided to combine all of them together and make him a villain out to seek revenge on his son (which, by the way, IS the Geryon from The Battle of the Labyrinth). Everything else, like the golden armor, being born from Medusa's blood, is true. I'm not too sure about the spear though…

One other thing. I realized when I finished writing that I had written Paul as the sort of guy who faints when encountering something way out of his league. Based on the books, however, I found him to be a pretty cool guy. So, for the people out there who are annoyed at my mild misstep, please pardon my mistake.

I've been writing a lot of Paul stories lately, haven't I?

Yes, I was also kinda hoping Percy would get to show off his awesome water powers. Alas, that's not how the story turned out…

Thank you!