Annabeth walked slowly along the borders of camp. Guard duty was always boring, but en it rained, it became absolutely miserable. Her damp clothes clung to her skin, leaking through both her armour and her rain coat. She shivered and brushed her wet blond hair out of her eyes. As her step became regular, she allowed her sword arm to slump down to her side, and for her mind to wander. Percy’s face crossed her mind, and a smile crossed her face. Their last date had been less than perfect. Although, a date that ends with rushing out of the restaurant because of flooded sinks would hardly be called a success.

She reached Thalia’s tree and leaned against it. “Well,” she thought sadly, staring out at the horizon. “If I’m lucky, the storm will have cleared up by the time my shift’s over.” Sighing, she ran her fingers across the smooth bark, which, even six years later, was still slightly disfigured by the pale scar that Luke had given it. Shudder. That memory still hurt. Sighing even more, she lay her head against it, and felt it’s magic run through her like electricity through a cable. Even though Thalia’s spirit no longer inhabited the tree, it still carried more power than anything else at camp. She stood again and started walking again.

Annabeth jumped. She could have sworn that she had seen movement in the darkness, maybe five or six yards off. Why had she been daydreaming? She was supposed to be on duty! She broke into a run, trying to catch up to them before they got away. But just as the person, a tall dark figure, slunk off into the night, Annabeth caught up to them, missing them by a hair. Then they simply vanished into thin air.

As she fought to catch her breath, she looked around for some clue to who the person was. Her stormy gray eyes fell on a small white bundle that lay a few feet away. She walked over to it, and scanned it for signs of possible danger. She bent down and picked up the small scrap of paper that was tucked into the fold of the blankets. Flipping it open, she scanned the fancy, slanted writing quickly.

Dear Camp Half Blood,If you have found this letter, you have most likely found the child as well. I leave her in your custody because she is a half-blood, and because she has nowhere else to go. Her surname is Rolland, but she has no first name. Please, take her in and raise her well. She is special, different from all other demigods. She will be useful to the gods.It was unsigned. Annabeth bent over and picked up the bundle. It was still warm, if a little wet, which was a good sign. She pulled back the flap that covered the baby’s face. A beautiful, dark-haired baby girl looked up at her, her green eyes open and alert. They were the eyes of an adult, not of a new-born child such as her.Annabeth didn’t think. She held the baby close and ran as fast as her legs could possibly carry her. When she made it to the Big House, she didn’t bother knocking. She stormed in, screaming Chiron’s name at the top of her lungs. When the sleepy centaur clopped down the stairs, she started to explain at high-speed, a voice that was usually reserved for extremely hyper children. Chiron stopped her.

“Annabeth, please! One word at a time, and preferably in one language at a time, as well. Now, what….?” He gestured at the bundle. Annabeth said nothing, but held out the girl. Chiron took her, glanced at her face, and cantered down the hallway, all traces of exhaustion gone from his voice. He gestured for Annabeth to follow, and she had no choice but to do so.