Nico spotted the three newcomers huddled together at a corner table. A pang of sympathy struck his heart. He wondered ifhe’dlooked that nervous when he first arrived.
He looked down and discovered a single-eyed sea-urchin-like Cocoa Puff—Loneliness—hanging on to his shoelace with its spiky little appendages. Loneliness was the smallest of the cacodemons, and though Nico wouldn’t admit it out loud, it was probably his favorite. Maybe because he’d spent so much time with that feeling.
He reached down and the creature scuttled up his arm. It nestled at the base of his neck, sending an empty sort of wistfulness through Nico’s body, but he didn’t mind. It was like a visit from a longtime friend.
When Nico and Will approached the new campers, they scrambled to their feet like they’d been called to attention. They all looked about eleven or twelve years old. One was a small, pale boy drowning in a puffer jacket and jeans at least three sizes too big for him. The second was a girl with light brown skin, curly hair, and a punkish dress/jacket/boots ensemble that Nico absolutely approved of. The third was a taller boy with warm brown eyes, deep-brown skin, and black hair shaved short. He seemed to be the leader, or at least the boldest. He stepped forward and extended his hand.
“Hi, I’m Oludare!” he said, loudly enough for everyone in a three-table radius to hear him. “Olu for short. Are you Mr. di Angelo? Chiron said we’re supposed to talk to you.”
AtMr. di Angelo, some of the older campers glanced over and snickered.
“Just Nico.” He shook Olu’s hand, though the gesture felt way too formal for him.
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Y’all can relax,” Will said, his smile radiating so much warmth even Nico could feel it. “We’re casual around here.”
Olu shifted from foot to foot. “Okay, yes. Well…my godly parent is Hestia!”
This came out at such a volume that the punk girl flinched. “Olu, please,” she said, tugging at her curls. “Keep it down.”
“Sorry!” Olu shouted. “Sorry, sorry. I get loud when I’m nervous.”
Nico offered a smile. “I get it. I was once new here, too. So…wait, did you say Hestia?” He looked at Will. “I didn’t even know Hestiahadchildren. Have we ever had one of hers here before?”
Will blinked. “I…Wow. I don’t think so.”
Oludare’s shoulders slumped. “Does that mean I have nowhere to go?”
“Quite the opposite,” said Will. “Any demigod is always welcome at Camp Half-Blood. And who are your friends?”
The girl introduced herself as Ananya. Her parent was a minor Greek deity named Astraea.
“I never even met her before,” Ananya said. “Then, all of a sudden, last week, she appears in my dreams, like,I am thy mother! Go to Camp Half-Blood!” She shrugged. “Chiron said she’s the goddess of justice and innocence? I guess that’s cool.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of her,” Nico admitted. “But there are lots of gods I don’t know.”
“At least she claimed you!” Will said. “We used to have to wait months or even years, and some kids never got claimed at all.” He turned to the pale boy in the big clothes. “How about you?”
“I’m Noah.” He rubbed his drippy nose on his sleeve. His red eyes made him look like he’d been crying or had really bad allergies. “I’ve got some obscure godly parent, too. Do you know who Hermes is?”
Will chuckled. “The name rings a bell.”
“Dude.” Ananya turned to Noah. “Didn’t you study Greek mythology in school?”
Noah shook his head. “I missed a lot of days.”
“He’s the god with those little wing thingies on his feet,” she said matter-of-factly.
Nico held back a laugh.The obscure wing-thingie god.“I hope he heard that up in Olympus.”
“What’s Olympus?” Noah asked.
“Oh, we have a lot to teach you,” said Will. “But first, have you all eaten? Let’s get some food!”
They loaded up their plates with freshly baked bread, cheese, and fruit while the dryads brought over goblets of ice-cold, whatever-you-want-it-to-be beverage (nonalcoholic, of course). Once they were seated again, Oludare started rattling off a million questions. It was clear to Nico that the kids had only received cursory introductions to being demigods. They had no idea what Camp Half-Blood was for, aside from Mr. D mentioning some sort of “rigorous, painful training regimen.”
“I…wouldn’t describe it that way at all,” Will said. “But thereistraining. You’ll have to learn how to fight, how to defend yourselves, how to protect others.”