Page 71 of The Wild Zone

“I mean, there are half bears, half horses, half bulls, so…”

Clearly Argus was in his denial era when it came to monster abductions, so I tried a different tack.

“Okay,” I said. “Suppose a monster didn’t take them. Suppose Grant and Silas found something dangerous instead.” I leaned against the porch railing in my most casual pose. “I’ve heard rumors around camp that magic items sometimes get tossed into the Wild Zone as offerings or…sacrifices.”

All of Argus’s eyes suddenly found the porch floor fascinating. “Is that so?”

“Someone even mentioned an invisibility ring? Like from Lord of the Hobbits?”

Silence.

The eyes on Argus’s left arm gave me a sidelong glance.

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“I can’t remember. But is it true? Could they have found some magic item that…made them disappear or something?”

He pursed his lips and then squinted as if measuring his words. “There exist in this world many magic items with terrible powers. Some are cursed, too dangerous to ever be used by demigods.”

My neck hairs stiffened. “How…How would something like that be cursed?”

“Every magic item is different,” Argus said cagily.

I hugged myself, thinking about the now pretty much confirmed to be cursed ring in my pocket.

Argus’s expression softened. “I don’t see how Silas and Grant could’ve both come into contact with something that incapacitated them, but I’ll make you a deal. I will check the camp archives for any historical accounts about dangerous items in the woods, or monsters with feathers, or the Wild Zone. I would not hold out too much hope, however.” He frowned. “Mr. D isn’t very careful with our documentation. He tends to use paperwork for drink coasters, or fireplace kindling.”

“And you wonder why I don’t have complete faith in the camp administration?”

He winced. “Touché. But as you young mortals say, I’m just trying to be…real with you.”

The phrase seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth, and that was fair enough. It was strange hearing a mythical being talk about trying to be real.

“How about this?” he continued. “I’ll also send a note to the gods on Mount Olympus, asking if they can interrupt Chiron and Mr. D’s training long enough to tell them what’s going on.”

I chewed my lip. “Can’t you tell them Chiron and Mr. D need to come back?”

Argus smiled apologetically. “As I suspect you know, Katie, no one can tell the gods to do anything. But I will ask. You, in return, must do something for me. I don’t expect you to stop worrying, or pretend that nothing is wrong, but could you please not panic the other campers more than necessary? We are supposed to be a training facility, a sanctuary, a safe home for demigods. Even when things go wrong, it’s important that we maintain that…”

“Illusion?” I suggested.

He grimaced. “I was going to say positive attitude. Please, for me, try to leave these problems to the gods and go about your normal day as a camper.”

I wasn’t sure what qualified as a “normal day” at Camp Half-Blood. I hadn’t had one yet, but it was pretty clear our conversation was over, so I nodded and walked away with shoulders slumped.

Leave these problems to the gods, Argus had said.

But Hestia, the one god I’d met today, had told me to be true to myself.

And if I was being truthful, I knew that leaving things to the gods had brought me nothing but heartache.

16

Harper Eats a Rock

With the disappearance of another person, you’d think a dark cloud would be hanging over the dining pavilion at breakfast. But nope. Everything was rainbows and sunshine.

It helped that Argus played down Silas’s absence during his morning announcements. He reminded everyone that the satyr had just gotten his searcher’s license. Then, when one of the campers asked if maybe Silas had simply left early on his epic hunt for Pan, Argus didn’t deny the possibility. Everyone seemed anxious to believe it. Like Argus had said, they apparently needed the illusion—er, positive attitude—that camp was safe. They cheered for Silas and then stuffed their faces with bagels and breakfast burritos.