Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever Percy and Bridget went, campers pointed at them and murmured something about toilet water. 

Bridget showed Percy a few more places: the metal shop, the arts-and-crafts room, and the climbing wall.

Finally they returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins. 'I've got training to do,' Bridget said flatly. 'Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall.'

'Bridget, I'm sorry about the toilets.' 

'Whatever.' 

'It wasn't my fault.' 

At that, Bridget looked at Percy skeptically. She sighed and rubbed her temple. 'You need to talk to the Oracle.'

'Not who, idiot. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron.' 

Percy stared into the lake, and so did Bridget. She noticed a couple of Naiads at the bottom. They smiled and waved as if the two were long-lost friends of their. Bridget just rolled her eyes as Percy waved back. 

'Don't encourage them,' Bridget warned. 'Naiads are terrible flirts.' 

'Naiads,' Percy repeated. 'That's it. I want to go home now.'

Bridget groaned. 'Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us.'

'You mean, mentally disturbed kids?'

'I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human.'

'Half-human and half-what?' 

'I think you know.' Bridget stared at him.

After a while, Percy spoke. 'God. Half-god.' 

Bridget nodded. 'Your father isn't dead, Percy. He's one of the Olympians.' 

'That's...crazy.'

'Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?'

'But those are just- But if all the kids here are half-gods-'

'Demigods,' Bridget intervened. 'That's the official term. Or half-bloods.' 

'Then who's your godly parent?' 

Bridget's hands tightened around the pier railing. 'I don't know.'

Percy frowned. 'You're... unclaimed as well?'

Bridget shook her head. 'Nope. I'm claimed. I was claimed as soon as I was born. Only Chiron knows who my godly parent is, and he refuses to tell me.'

'Wait... you were claimed when you were a baby?' Percy asked in total shock.

'Yep. Annabeth, the girl you met, her mom's Athena.'

Percy looked at her, blinking causing Bridget to get annoyed. 'What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?'

'And my dad?'

'Undetermined,' Bridget said, 'like I told you before. Nobody knows.'

'Except my mother. She knew.'

'Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities.' 

'My dad would have. He loved her.'

Bridget sighed and looked at the sky. 'Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens.'

'You mean sometimes it doesn't?'

Bridget ran her palm along the rail. 'The gods are... busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always...Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Jackson. They ignore us.'

'So I'm stuck here,' Percy said after a while. 'That's it? For the rest of my life?'

'It depends,' Bridget shrugged. 'Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble—about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that.'

'So monsters can't get in here?'

Bridget shook her head. 

'Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside.'

'Why would anybody want to summon a monster?'

'Practice fights. Practical jokes.'

'Practical jokes?' 

'The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm.'

'So...you're a year-rounder?'

Bridget nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt she pulled a leather necklace with twelve clay beads of different colors. 

'I've been here since I was a baby,' she said. 'Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college.'

'Why did you come so young?'

'I didn't come here. I was brought. By Chiron.'

'Oh.' An uncomfortable silence fell, which was soon broken by Percy. 

'So...I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?'

'It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless...'

'Unless?'

'You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time...' Her voice trailed off.

'Back in the sick room,' Percy said, 'when Annabeth was feeding me that stuff-'

'Ambrosia.'

'Yeah. She asked me something about the summer solstice.'

Bridget's shoulders tensed. 'So you do know something?'

'Well...no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?'

She clenched her fists. 'Does it seem like I know? Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal.'

'You've been to Olympus?'

'Some of us year-rounders - Annabeth and Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others - we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council.'

'But...how did you get there?'

'The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor.'

She looked at Percy. 'You are a New Yorker, right?'

'Oh, sure.'

'Right after we visited,' Bridget continued, 'the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping we could work together. I thought you might know something.' Percy shook his head.

'I've got to get a quest,' Bridget muttered to herself. 'I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem...'

***

Chiron raised his glass. 'To the gods!'

Everybody else raised their glasses. 'To the gods!'

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, barbecue, etc. Bridget glass, which was empty, soon filled itself with chocolate milkshake.

Soon, it was time to give the offerings to the gods. Bridget threw a few sandwiches in, muttering, 'To whoever my mom or dad is.' From the corner of her eye, she saw Chiron looking at her sympathetically. Sighing, she went back to her seats.

Mr. D sighed. 'Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels.' A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table.

'Personally,' Mr. D continued, 'I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson.' Chiron murmured something. 

'Er, Percy Jackson,' Mr. D corrected. 'That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on.' 

Everybody cheered. They all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. They sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around. Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and they all filed back to our cabins.