READ ‘The Wrath Of The Triple Godess‘ (PJO 7)*.

I wouldn’t have called it a wild party— at least not as wild as the battle against the dead.

But it was a good party, because we were still alive and together with our friends. The Apollo cabin handled the music, thanks to Austin Lake and his advanced portable stereo system. We even managed to convince him to play some pop instead of freestyle jazz fusion, which was usually his default.

Connor provided snacks and drinks. I was pretty sure both had been swiped from Camp Half-Blood’s supplies, but I didn’t complain, considering the limited wear on Hecate’s kitchen.

The nymphs and satyrs made sure there was dancing. Dryads could dance for days, which you probably wouldn’t expect from beings made of bark and bushes. The satyrs’ moves would have wowed any German nightclub. Grover played panpipes to some of the songs. It gave The Weeknd tracks a rather unusual vibe, but he pulled it off.

Meanwhile, Argus stayed by the entrance, glowering and making sure the party didn’t get out of hand. We were used to having him as a chaperone, so that was totally fine. A few times, there were knocks or rattling at the front door. How they found the house through the mist, I wasn’t really sure, but they all praised us for the cool talking doorknockers.

Argus handed out candy to the kids from our stash and sent them on their way before they could ask too many questions about his clean-shaven, hundred-eyed pilot outfit.