The rain came down in heavy sheets, turning the backroads of Maine into slick, winding rivers of mud. I held my breath, keeping my hoodie pulled tight over my head as I leaned against the wall of an old gas station. The "OUT OF ORDER" sign hanging from the rusted pump swayed in the wind, a mocking reminder of how far from civilization I had drifted.
My name is Lysander West, though most people just call me Lys. Not that there are many people who bother. I've spent most of my sixteen years trying not to be noticed. Life's easier that way when the world seems bent on tearing you apart. Monsters, weird weather, and bad luck have followed me as long as I can remember.
I should've guessed my life wasn't normal when I started having dreams of a gleaming throne made of white marble. Every time, the throne would crack, splitting into pieces, and a woman with stormy gray eyes would whisper, "You'll have to choose, Lysander." Then I'd wake up drenched in sweat, my ears ringing like I'd been struck by lightning.
I didn't know what the dreams meant. But they started getting worse about two weeks ago. That's when I started seeing… things. A hissing, scaly thing with glowing red eyes chased me out of Portland. Then there was the winged lion I swear was stalking me through New Hampshire.
I thought I was going crazy—until Grover found me.
"Lysander!" The shout pulled me from my thoughts. A lanky boy with curly brown hair and a distinct limp bounded toward me from the edge of the woods. He was soaked to the bone, his coat dripping with rainwater.
"Grover," I said, shaking my head. "You don't have to shout. You're the only satyr I know who can't sneak up on anything."
He grinned sheepishly, his goat hooves clacking on the concrete. "Sorry about that. But I've got news. Big news."
"Let me guess. More monsters?" I asked dryly.
"Not just monsters." Grover glanced over his shoulder nervously, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Something's wrong at Camp Half-Blood. Chiron sent me to find you, but… I think we're too late."
"Too late for what?" I asked, my stomach twisting.
Before Grover could answer, the air shifted. The rain stilled for a moment, like the world had been put on mute. A crack of thunder followed, deafening and impossibly close.
Grover grabbed my arm, his eyes wide with panic. "We have to move. Now!"
I didn't need to ask why. The smell of burning ozone filled the air, and a shadow moved in the trees—a towering, hulking figure with glowing yellow eyes.
"Oh, come on," I muttered, tightening my grip on my battered bronze knife. "What is it this time?"
The figure stepped into the clearing, and my heart sank. It was a drakon, its massive serpent body covered in jagged black scales that shimmered in the dim light. Its eyes locked onto me, and it hissed, smoke curling from its nostrils.
"That's not good," Grover said, backing away.
"No kidding."
The drakon lunged, and I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a swipe of its claws. My knife wouldn't do much against something this big, but I didn't have much of a choice.
"Grover, get out of here!" I shouted, dodging another attack.
"Not without you!" he yelled back, pulling out his reed pipes.
The drakon snarled, its tail whipping toward me like a battering ram. I braced for the impact, but before it could hit, a golden arrow whizzed past my head and buried itself in the drakon's side.
I turned to see a girl about my age stepping out of the shadows, her dark hair tied back in a braid. Her silver eyes gleamed with determination as she nocked another arrow. She wore a leather jacket over a gray hoodie, and the way she held her bow made it clear she knew how to use it.
"Who the heck are you?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.
"Callie," she said simply, loosing another arrow. This one struck the drakon square in the eye, and it let out a bone-shaking roar. "You can thank me later."
The drakon thrashed wildly, its tail sweeping the ground. Callie didn't flinch. She moved with practiced precision, her arrows flying in rapid succession.
"Not bad," I muttered, impressed despite myself.
"Focus, West!" she snapped. "We need to bring it down, not admire my aim!"
"Right. On it."
With Callie covering me, I managed to get close enough to the drakon to strike. My knife glowed faintly, the celestial bronze biting into the creature's scales as I slashed at its legs.
The drakon roared one final time before collapsing in a heap. Steam rose from its body as it began to dissolve into golden dust.
I staggered back, breathing hard. "Well, that was fun."
Callie lowered her bow, her eyes narrowing as she looked me over. "You're him, aren't you? The son of Zeus."
The words hit me like another bolt of lightning. "Wait, what?"
Grover winced. "Uh, surprise?"
I stared at Callie, my mind racing. "How do you know that?"
She smirked, slinging her bow over her shoulder. "Let's just say you've been making a lot of noise. And you're going to need all the help you can get."
I didn't know what she meant by that, but one thing was clear: my life was about to get a lot more complicated.