Chapter 33 - Iris

Lucas made his way southeast, following a trail lit by fragmented sunlight. The trees here were thinner, their leaves casting scattered shadows on the path. He walked slowly, enjoying the forest; the distant chirping added to the charm.

The creek came into view, sparkling in the late morning light. He spotted a figure seated on a large stone at the water's edge. A boy, his bulky frame relaxed, bare feet dipped in the current, his hand flicking small stones across the surface.

Lucas stepped closer. "Butch?"

The boy turned. Allowing Lucas to see his face looked like a pile of bricks, fitting his name.

"That's me," he said, offering a casual nod. "You're Lucas, right? Hecate's kid."

Lucas gave a quiet smile. "Word travels."

Butch shrugged. "Camp's small. A child of a minor god not accepting the status quo... that echoes to those who listen. What brings you here?"

"I was told you're good with Iris messages. I need to contact home and was hoping you could teach me."

Butch nodded and stood.

He brought his palms together, and a rainbow shimmered into being over the stream.

"First, you need a rainbow. A natural one's best, but Mist-crafted ones work too."

Lucas listened closely as Butch continued, "Then say: 'O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering,' followed by the name and location. While speaking, toss a golden drachma into the rainbow. After that, it's up to her."

"Do her children get benefits from this?"

"Yeah," Butch said. "Sometimes we can call for free, or let others pay on credit."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, impressed. Saving drachmas and having secure communication were useful perks, especially when phones were dangerous for demigods for they signaled to monsters their location.

Butch stepped back. "I'll give you some privacy. To end the call, just wipe your hand through the rainbow."

Lucas stepped forward. "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering: Steven Thorne, New Orleans."

The coin dropped into the rainbow and vanished with a ripple of prismatic light. Moments later, an image rose, a kitchen, familiar and dimly lit.

Steven appeared, stirring a pot on the stove.

Lucas grinned, mischief lighting his eyes. "Boo."

Steven flinched, sending chili flying. His eyes widened in alarm before relaxing at the sight of his laughing son. He placed a hand on his chest and leaned on the counter.

"You nearly killed me, you idiot..." he muttered, breath catching.

Lucas wiped a tear from his eye. "Hey. Just wanted to check in."

Steven leaned closer to the message, brow raised. "And scaring me was part of that?" His words were mock-scolding, but the affection behind them shone.

"So, what brings you to call your old man?"

"Just wanting to check-in"

Steven put on a gratified look, asking. "You been sleeping enough?"

Lucas shrugs. "Some nights better than others."

They spoke briefly; light conversation, nothing serious. Then Steven shouted about burning the chili. Lucas laughed and promised he'd check in more often.

"You better," Steven said. "Now go eat. I'll try to salvage this mess."

They exchanged goodbyes, and Lucas ended the call.

Butch returned after a few moments, settling back onto his stone.

"Thanks," Lucas said.

Butch nodded. "Anytime."

Lucas didn't move. He sat beside the creek, watching the shimmer fade.

"Your mom still answers prayers."

"She does," Butch said. "Even if no one remembers her."

"What does she think of Olympus?"

Butch tilted his head. "You ask that to everyone?"

"Only the ones I'm curious about."

Silence once again settled, Butch weighing if he should answer, eventually he did.

"She's bitter. Olympus worked her to the bone, then tossed her aside. Hermes took her messenger role. Her old job as cupbearer? Reassigned to a pretty face. No temples, no sacred animal. Nothing."

He paused, then added, "But she's happier now. She opened her own shop. Picks who to help. Free of Olympus. Still… she's sad she gave everything and got nothing back."

Lucas glanced sideways. "Seems to be a recurring theme with Olympus."

Butch nodded. "That how it is for all minor gods?"

"Olympus is built on hierarchy," Lucas said. "The higher you sit, the less you notice those below."

They sat quietly until Lucas stood.

"Thanks again."

Butch offered a lazy salute. "Take care."

Lucas walked slowly back toward the heart of camp. The sunlight filtering through the trees felt warmer now, though he couldn't say why. As he passed the stables, he caught faint snippets of laughter, he turned a corner and saw some campers of the Hermes Cabin carrying boxes, seeing him they, stopped before the Stoll brothers, Connor and Travis, gave him a quiet shush before they ushered the group away.

Lucas blinked. For a moment, he simply admired their dedication. If the crates were for a future prank, it must be elaborate even by their standards.

For a moment, Lucas considered asking what they were doing. But something in their expressions made him think better of it. Whatever it was, it wasn't aimed at him. Probably. Hopefully.

Farther along, at the dining pavilion, he glimpsed Annabeth showing Luke and Thalia some fabric. They nodded, and she hurried off.

Thalia waved him over, a strange smile adorning her face.

"What's that about?" Lucas asked.

"Just an arts and crafts thing she's working on. So... ready for dinner?"

Lucas nodded, still distracted by his conversation with Butch and unaware of the exchanged glances between his friends.