Chapter 38 – An Interesting Demigoddess
The Big House office was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace in the corner. Chiron, in his wheelchair form to fit the human-sized room, sat behind the large wooden desk cluttered with ancient maps and scrolls. Across from him, Dante lounged casually in one of the oversized chairs, his posture relaxed but his golden eyes sharp and attentive.
"So, what was the reason you wanted to talk to me?" Dante asked first, leaning forward slightly as he looked directly at the centaur.
Chiron folded his hands thoughtfully, his wise eyes meeting Dante's without flinching. "Well, I just want to know the reason you came to Camp Half-Blood," he replied calmly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "After all, your mother didn't send you here when you were little, like most demigods. I don't understand why you chose to come now, of all times. Besides, with your power—you, unlike the other kids—are completely safe outside these borders. Monsters would think twice before approaching someone like you. That makes me even more curious about why you're suddenly here."
Dante opened his mouth to respond, but paused. He tilted his head toward the door, nostrils flaring subtly as he caught the familiar scents drifting in from the hallway—strawberries and old books for Annabeth, along with the earthy hint of goat for Grover.
A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Dante's lips. He turned back to Chiron. "Well, I don't mind telling you everything, since you need to know anyway. But how about we let those two spies eavesdropping outside come in first? After all, this concerns them too—probably more than anyone else here."
Chiron's eyebrows rose slightly, but a knowing glint appeared in his eyes. He raised his voice just enough to carry through the wooden door. "Annabeth, Grover, you heard us. Come in. The door's open."
There was a brief shuffle outside, followed by the creak of the door swinging inward. Grover entered first, moving slowly on his crutches even though everyone now knew about his hooves. He glanced nervously between Dante and Chiron before muttering awkwardly, "Well... it really is a good night, everyone."
Dante's smile widened into a genuine grin. "Relax, goat-boy. I don't eat people. So go ahead and sit down in that chair over there."
Grover hesitated for a second, then pulled up one of the spare wooden chairs near the desk and sat down gratefully, propping his crutches against the side.
At that moment, Annabeth strode in with purpose. Her gray eyes locked onto Dante immediately, stormy and full of suspicion. She stopped a few feet away and declared firmly, "I still don't trust you."
She stepped closer, her posture straight and unyielding. "I'm going to make sure you don't do anything wrong around here. After all, with that kind of power you showed , you've probably never once felt the fear of being hunted by a monster. You've never had to run for your life or hide who you are. So you don't truly understand how important this place—this camp—is to all of us who have."
Dante studied her for a long moment, his golden eyes softening just a fraction. Then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers. A playful smile curved his lips as he tilted his head and whispered near her ear, "You can relax, wise girl. I don't have any bad intentions toward the camp. But I can't promise the same about having second intentions with the beautiful, fierce girl standing in front of me right now."
He blew a light, teasing puff of air against her ear before pulling back smoothly.
Annabeth reacted instantly—she recoiled a step, her cheeks flushing faintly as her hand flew to the celestial bronze dagger at her belt. She drew it halfway, glaring daggers at him. "Don't try any funny business, or I'll end you. Got it?"
Dante didn't flinch. Instead, he just gazed at her angry, pretty face and smiled wider. "You know, being handsome has its advantages most of the time. But it definitely isn't one when a girl tries to make a scary face to intimidate you—like you're doing right now. Because all that so-called scary face of yours makes me want to do is scoop you up in my arms and cuddle you until you stop frowning."
Annabeth froze, dagger still half-drawn, completely caught off guard. No boy had ever spoken to her like this—bold, unflinching, and utterly unafraid of her reputation for handing out bruises to anyone who crossed the line. Most guys at camp gave her a wide berth when she got mad. They certainly weren't willing to risk getting beat up just to keep teasing her.
From behind the desk, Chiron watched the exchange with a long-suffering expression. He cleared his throat and sighed deeply. "Mr. Dante, could you please stop teasing Miss Chase and finally tell us why you came to Camp Half-Blood?"
Dante turned his head toward the centaur, the picture of innocence. "But I wasn't teasing at all. I really did mean it—I really do want to hold her and cuddle her."
Annabeth huffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Be serious for once and tell us why you're here already."
Dante's gaze returned to her, the teasing smile turning into something a little more challenging. "I'll tell you everything... on one condition. Will you accept it?"
Annabeth narrowed her eyes, immediately wary. "What condition?"
Dante's smile grew wider. "Well, I want you—personally—to show me around the camp afterward. Just you and me."
Annabeth blinked, clearly expecting something far worse. "That's it? Just... a tour?"
She glanced at him sideways, shrugged, and nodded. "Fine. I don't mind. It's not like it's hard."
Inside, Dante thought to himself as he watched her guarded expression: Of course what I really wanted was to turn it into an actual date with you. But if I came out and said that upfront, with her personality, there's no way she'd ever agree. This way—asking for something simple like a camp tour—she accepts because it doesn't feel threatening. Now all I have to do is use that time tomorrow to chip away at those walls and get closer to her.
Chiron observed the agreement quietly, his ancient mind already piecing things together. He thought to himself: As someone who has lived through millennia, how could I possibly miss what Dante is really after with that request? I can only hope Athena doesn't completely lose her temper if her precious daughter ends up dating Poseidon's grandson. After all, those two Olympians have never exactly seen eye to eye.
Annabeth broke the brief silence. "Now that I've agreed to your condition, tell us why you're here. All of it."
Dante leaned back in his chair, the playful air fading as he grew more serious. He looked around at the three faces watching him—Chiron's patient wisdom, Grover's nervous concern, Annabeth's guarded intensity—then sighed deeply.
"Well, the reason is this: the idiot Zeus's Master Bolt was stolen. And since gods are forbidden by ancient laws from directly stealing another god's symbol of power, the blame is inevitably going to fall on someone else. Guess who?"
Annabeth answered instantly, her strategist mind already ahead. "On us. The demigods."
Dante pointed at her with approval. "Exactly. Beautiful and smart—a complete package, if I do say so myself."
He continued before anyone could interrupt, "Like I was saying, since demigods are always the prime suspects in these situations, the real question becomes: even among a whole camp full of demigods, which one does Zeus truly believe was capable of sneaking into Olympus and stealing his most powerful weapon?"
Chiron supplied the answer gravely. "A demigod descended from one of the Big Three. And since neither Zeus nor Hades currently have any known living children..."
He trailed off and looked meaningfully at Dante, who nodded in grim confirmation.
"Yes," Dante said. "The suspicion falls squarely on the children of Poseidon. Which, in this case, means my mother, Sera... and my uncle, Percy Jackson."
Grover jumped in defensively. "But Percy didn't do anything! He wouldn't!"
Dante met the satyr's eyes steadily. "My mother didn't either. But that didn't stop the gods from sending a Minotaur after her anyway—trying to kill her just to send a message."
A heavy silence settled over the room as the weight of that statement sank in.
Dante broke it after a moment. "But unfortunately, that's not even the worst part."
Annabeth leaned forward. "How is that not the worst part? You're telling me the situation can actually get worse than divine assassination attempts?"
Dante gave a humorless smile. "Oh, yes. Because if we don't recover the Master Bolt and return it within fourteen days, the world as we know it ends."
Annabeth's eyes widened in alarm. "Why? How does a stolen weapon lead to the end of the world?"
Dante explained, his tone matter-of-fact. "My idiot grandfather—Poseidon—told me directly that Zeus issued an ultimatum: return the bolt in fourteen days, or he declares war on Poseidon for the theft. And honestly? I highly doubt my grandfather would actually go to full-out war with Zeus over two demigods he barely acknowledges. He could always make more children later, right?"
Chiron interjected gently, "Dante, the gods aren't as cruel or indifferent as you believe them to be."
Dante let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Mr. Chiron, with all due respect, unlike your students here, I'm a complete nerd when it comes to fiction and mythology. I've studied every Greek myth out there in excruciating detail. And if even one percent of the stories written about the Olympians is true, that alone is more than enough to condemn them all to Tartarus in my book."
The room went dead silent again. Speaking ill of the gods so openly—especially in a camp filled with their children—was unheard of. Yet Dante didn't flinch.
He went on, "But here's the kicker: even if my shitty grandfather decides not to fight Zeus directly, the end of the world is still going to happen anyway."
Annabeth frowned, trying to follow the logic. "Why? You just said Poseidon probably wouldn't risk war for Percy and your mother."
Chiron spoke up before Dante could answer, his voice calm but certain. "Because you would make it happen, wouldn't you, Dante? If we fail to recover the bolt, Zeus will move to punish the supposed thief—your mother, and likely Percy as well. And you wouldn't just stand by and watch that happen. You'd declare war on Olympus yourself."
Dante clapped slowly, a genuine grin breaking through. "As expected from the trainer of heroes who've become legend. You nailed it, Chiron. Every single part."
He paused, then tilted his head. "But I do have one question: what makes you so sure I even have the power to fight the gods on equal footing?"
Annabeth and Grover both turned their full attention to Chiron, eagerly awaiting the answer.
The centaur smiled faintly. "I have lived a very, very long time, young man. In that span, I have stood in the presence of the Big Three gods themselves and felt the raw, overwhelming power that radiates from them. And—though I thought it impossible until last night—I felt that same immense, primal power emanating from you. That is how I know: if you ever truly clashed with Olympus, the fallout could very well mean the end of the world as we know it."
He leaned forward slightly. "So... what is your mission here, exactly?"
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Mission?"
Chiron clarified patiently, "The task you came to accomplish. From everything I've observed in our conversation, you possess god-like power yet show no arrogance or cruelty. You're not here to cause chaos. Therefore, you must be following some directive your grandfather gave you regarding the Master Bolt."
Dante nodded slowly. "You're right again. I don't want to fight anyone—not really. Even though I despise what the Greek gods stand for and what they've done over the centuries, starting a war would kill countless innocent mortals in the crossfire. That's something I refuse to let happen."
He took a breath. "So my idiot grandfather gave me a specific mission: locate Percy, protect and assist him, then help form a small quest group—Percy plus other demigods from different divine parents—to retrieve the bolt. Those other demigods will serve as impartial witnesses, proving that the bolt was recovered legitimately and that neither Percy nor my mother ever stole it in the first place. With credible demigod testimony, no god—especially not Zeus—will be able to claim Percy only 'returned' it because he got scared of punishment."
Dante rubbed his temple and sighed heavily. "But if this plan fails... well, hello, apocalypse."
The gravity of his words left everyone in stunned silence for several long seconds.
Annabeth recovered first. She straightened up, determination blazing in her eyes. "I want to join this quest."
Chiron held up a cautionary hand. "Miss Annabeth, this is not an ordinary quest. The fate of the entire world hangs in the balance. We cannot make hasty decisions about who goes."
Dante cut in smoothly. "Actually, she's a perfect choice. Think about it—what better witness could we possibly have than the daughter of Athena, the goddess who despises my grandfather more than almost anyone on Olympus? If Annabeth herself testifies that the bolt was recovered honestly, her word will carry far more weight than almost any other demigod's."
Chiron considered this, then nodded reluctantly. "You make a valid point. But there is still much to discuss and consider carefully."
Grover suddenly stood up from his chair, gripping his crutches tightly. "I'm going too. I'm Percy's appointed protector. If he's heading out on a journey this dangerous, there's no way I'm staying behind."
Dante flashed him an approving grin. "Well then, looks like we've officially got ourselves a goat-boy on the team."
Chiron addressed Dante directly. "Mr. Dante, you should get some rest now. Tomorrow morning, once Percy has awakened and recovered, we will convene again to discuss further details and finalize plans."
Dante stretched and stood up. "Fair enough. That was a lot to drop on everyone at once. And hey—no need to keep calling me 'mister.' Just Dante is fine."
He glanced around the room one last time. "So... where exactly am I sleeping tonight?"
Chiron gestured toward the window, where the camp cabins were visible in the moonlight. "Since you are Poseidon's grandson, you belong in the cabin built for his children—Cabin Three."
Dante shrugged. "Works for me. Someone mind showing me the way?"
Annabeth stepped forward without hesitation. "I'll take you. Come on, follow me."
Dante turned to Chiron and Grover with a casual wave. "Well, everyone, it was nice officially meeting you all. See you bright and early tomorrow. For now, I'm going to get some sleep."
He followed Annabeth out of the Big House. The night air was cool and filled with the sounds of crickets and distant laughter from the campfire circle. As they walked side by side along the path toward the cabins, Annabeth finally spoke.
"So... why don't you like your grandfather? I mean, he's Poseidon—one of the Big Three, ruler of the seas. Most demigods would kill to have that kind of lineage."
Dante glanced at her, his expression turning thoughtful under the starlight. "Simple reasons, really. He—and all the Olympians—have done far too many inhumane things over the centuries. I'm not going to sugarcoat it or pretend otherwise just because he's family. I feel zero pride in having him as my grandfather. The only reason I'm bothering with this mission at all, instead of just flying straight to Olympus and starting a fight, is because a war between gods and someone like me would hurt millions of innocent mortals caught in the middle."
Annabeth walked quietly for a few steps, processing that. "But everything you're talking about—their worst actions—happened thousands of years ago."
Dante stopped walking for a moment and looked at her seriously. "Tell me this: if someone murdered your father, would the fact that it happened ten years ago, a hundred years ago, or a thousand years ago make them any less a murderer? Would time magically erase the pain and misery they caused? Just because centuries have passed doesn't suddenly turn them into good people."
Annabeth fell silent, unable to find a counter to that logic.
Dante started walking again, then flashed her a sheepish smile. "Okay, I'll admit—I'm a complete idiot for turning our walk into such a heavy, depressing conversation when I could be enjoying the company of the beautiful girl right beside me."
Annabeth's lips curved into a small, reluctant smile. "Well, looks like your chance to enjoy it just ran out. We're here."
She pointed ahead to the impressive Poseidon cabin—large, made of sea-green stone, with seashells embedded in the walls and a faint glow of the trident symbol above the door.
Dante looked up at it and nodded. "Nice place. But I'm still holding you to that tour tomorrow, lovely lady."
Annabeth rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered. "Yes, fine. I already agreed."
She turned to head back toward the Athena cabin, but paused after a few steps. Glancing over her shoulder, she added softly, "You know... I probably would've said yes even if your condition had been asking me out on an actual date."
Dante's grin returned full force. "And you know what? I was planning to tell you everything tonight anyway—even without any condition."
Annabeth let out a light laugh. "Well, then... looks like you're not as much of an idiot as I originally thought. Good night, Dante."
She walked away into the darkness, her dark brown ponytail swaying slightly.
Dante watched her go, a warm feeling settling in his chest despite himself. He thought quietly: I really didn't want any more contact with these Greek gods and their drama... but now I'm seriously tempted to stick around long enough to turn Athena ia grandmother
With a quiet chuckle, he pushed open the door to Cabin Three, stepped inside the empty but impressive space, and immediately face-planted onto the nearest bunk.
Let's sleep, he thought wearily. Tomorrow there's still a world to save—and a certain daughter of Athena to win over.