Chapter Text
Pollux hummed, swinging his feet back and forth as he placed a red number four on top of the green number four.
"Uno!"
He called proudly, watching with glee as his dad's face melted into annoyance.
"You're cheating."
He responded blandly, causing Pollux to giggle.
"Nope! You're just bad at uno."
He responded, popping the 'p' for extra effect.
Grover gulped, eyeing the god on the other side of him with fear, not even paying attention to the twelve cards in his hand. The satyr had started to fear Dionysus less and less as his title of Lord of the wild stirred more within the world, but anybody with the right mindset would cower in terror at a losing Mr.D.
Grover had visited camp for a few weeks at around the same time as Percy and Annabeth, which allowed the three a cute reunion.
Though right now, the two veteran demi-gods were training newer campers, so Pollux had eventually dragged Grover into their game of uno for an extra player.
Don't ask what happened to the pinochle cards. You don't want to know.
Dionysus gave him an even blander look, the fourteen cards in his hand only adding to the humor.
"I could ground you for this you know."
Pollux shrugged, a sharp grin on display.
"But you won't."
Grover blinked, his eyes glossing over, his hands beginning to tremble.
Pollux's smile began to dim, his eyes now trained on the satyr he had practically grown up with.
His ears were pinned to the sides of his head, and his skin looked clammy.
"Grover?"
He asked, watching as the satyr blinked one eye at a time, slowly turning to him with a far away look.
"Are you. . .okay?"
His dad would never admit it, but immediately, the god's focus was on Grover, who was looking more and more out of it by the second.
Pollux shot out of his seat at the time that Grover was beginning to wobble in his, pressing a hand against his forehead with wide eyes.
"Oh gods, Grover, you're burning up!"
Dionysus stood from his chair, cards discarded on the table without a thought, deep, purple eyes scanning the satyr again and again.
"Pollux, call one of sunny's kids here this instant."
Pollux nodded, taking maybe one step off the patio, when a nymph burst from the woods, startling the demi-gods near her.
"Lord Dionysus!"
His dad twitched at the full name, one hand on the unsteady Grover still seated.
"The satyrs! The satyrs in the forest! They're passing out!"
Pollux gasped, turning back to Dionysus with a fearful expression.
Dionysus had a blank expression on his face, which meant he was absolutely pissed.
"They're dropping like flies!"
A child of Ares shouted, tripping to a stop next to the nymph.
"The satyrs! They're dropping like flies! The Apollo kids are trying to help, but there's too many!"
"This is bad."
Pollux mumbled, his hands beginning to shake.
"This is really bad."
Pollux's foot tapped impatiently, currently sitting on his bed, in his cabin.
He would've waited in the infirmary, but it was overfilling with satyrs, some had to be brought to the big house so they weren't laying on the floor.
Pollux had thought that Grover was bad, but the rest of the satyrs were much worse. Some couldn't even move, while others were passed out, or worse, screaming in pain.
One satyr complained that his body was turning to ash, and his father's face turned a shade of white he didn't even think was impossible.
Percy got an Iris Message from Frank, who was panicking, saying the fauns were getting sick.
Nymphs and dryads from around the world were contacting camp, stating that the satyrs around them were wilting.
Pollux felt like he was going to puke.
Even from here he could hear the wails of agony from those poor goats, and he couldn't do anything about it.
He knew Percy probably felt the same way.
The veteran's eyes had been wide as saucers, and he was practically skating around the camp to check on anyone and everyone with a pouting lip.
Speaking of which,
Pollux thought, mentally counting down from five.
Just as he got to zero, a frantic knock sounded at the door.
"Pollux, buddy? You in there?"
"Yeah!"
Pollux called back, turning his body to face the door.
"Come in!"
Percy stepped into the room, looking worse for wear.
His hair was even more unruly than normal, his skin was pale and clammy, and the bags beneath his eyes were now joined by a puffing red. His clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, along with his camp necklace being stuffed into his pocket.
"Hey, man. How are you doing?"
Pollux shrugged, trying for a lopsided grin, but only managing to make a barren smile.
"I'm fine, I guess."
The boy mumbled. Percy shut the door, coming to sit next to him on the bed.
"I just. . .feel bad for the satyrs. They're in so much pain, and I can't help them."
Percy nodded, running a hand through his hair. It didn't do much.
"Yeah. It sucks to just sit around, waiting."
A tense silence filled the room, neither boy wanted to speak.
Percy broke that silence, his brows furrowed. He looked angry.
"I mean, this obviously isn't just some normal sickness hopping around, right? It's magic related, but nobody can figure out what it exactly is. The Hecate cabin is stumped, and Mr.D isn't fairing much better."
Pollux only listened, his frown deepening as the boy's mental spiral continued. Percy was right, this was something magical, but dangerous. And if his dad, a god, can't even figure out what it is, the satyrs are in serious trouble.
"-the last thing we can possibly do is contact the Oracle for a quest of some type. Like maybe this is something related to a missing item, or a curse, and a few demi-gods have to go and save the day again. But that's assumption at best, who knows if this is even quest related?"
His eyes snapped up from where they lay, watching the floor.
No, wait-
He thought, the pieces clicking together.
"That's it! A quest!"
He exclaimed, bouncing from the bed, turning to the boy with wide eyes and a grin.
"You're right, Percy! This has to be quest related, we need to get one!"
What else could it be, after all? It's not like some random flu just suddenly hit, it has to be from something. Or from someone.
Percy grimaced, not too happy to hear that, which Pollux understood. Percy had been on so many life-threatening missions, it was basically the norm for him every summer.
But his expression soon changed, to one of hope. Because no matter what, Grover was his best friend, and the satyrs were not going to die on either of their watches.
"Come on, we can go to Rachel-"
"But you're still too young to go on one, aren't you? That, and we'll have to approve of it with your dad first, since Chiron isn't here right now."
Pollux froze, his cheeks flushing with color.
Right. He forgot about that.
The new age rule had been set in place once Lord Apollo/Lester had ascended back to godhood.
Nobody younger than sixteen was allowed to go on a quest, or mission, of any type. And if you were older than sixteen, you had to go through at least one adult at camp before you could see the Oracle, but even then, it was a toss up that she'd appear at all.
At that point you'd just be having an awkward chat with Rachel.
Of course, because Tyche hated him, Pollux was still fifteen, which meant he was most likely not getting a prophecy.
That and, like Percy said, Mr.D was the only adult at camp right now aside from the veteran campers, and that god would never let him touch the Oracle with a five foot pole.
"Hey, don't worry."
Percy said, sadness in his eyes, but determination set in his face.
"I'll ask for a quest. And if I get accepted, than I'll IM you every chance I get."
Pollux's heart almost flew out of his chest, Percy accepting a quest willingly?
That was almost unheard of nowadays.
The boy nodded with the same amount of determination, hugging Percy in a rare moment of kindness.
"Thank you Percy."
Percy blinked, caught off guard for a second, but quickly returned the hug with a tight squeeze.
"Of course, bud. I promise, even if I don't get that quest, we will help those satyrs."