Percy found her again after dinner, which was bold, considering she had already roasted him once in front of half the camp. He walked up the hill toward the Hecate cabin, towel still around his shoulders, sand in his hair, probably trying not to look like a lost puppy.
Too bad.
Csenge was sitting on the front steps of her cabin, lighting a candle by snapping her fingers and watching the flame dance like it was trying to tell secrets. Her bag was beside her, half-open, revealing a notebook, dried herbs, and what looked suspiciously like a small jar of... teeth?
"Hey," Percy said, hesitating. "Csenge, right?"
She didn't look up. "Seaweed."
He ran a hand through his damp hair. "Still with that nickname?"
She finally glanced up, eyes catching the flickering light. "It's either that or 'Aqua Boy.' You pick."
Percy sighed and sat down beside her on the step. "Okay. Fair. I deserved that."
Csenge raised an eyebrow, impressed by the self-awareness.
"So," he continued. "I heard you've only been here a few months?"
"Three months, one Hydra attack, and two spontaneous spell fires ago, yes." She set the candle down between them. "Which, by camp standards, basically makes me ancient."
Percy gave a half-laugh. "You're Hecate's kid, right? Goddess of magic?"
Csenge nodded. "That's me. Walking fire hazard. Emotional support witch. Occasional squirrel whisperer."
"You talk to squirrels?"
"No, but I could. Probably. I've never tried."
Percy smiled, then hesitated. "So… why did you call me Seaweed?"
She flicked the candlelight toward him with a tiny gesture of her fingers. "Because I saw the way the water curled around you when you stepped out of the lake. Like it knew you. Plus, your aura smells like saltwater and unresolved trauma. My guess? You're a son of Poseidon."
Percy's eyes went wide. "But I haven't even been claimed yet."
Csenge smirked. "I'm magic, Seaweed. I cheat."
He stared at her in awe, and she felt it—the thing she always dreaded. That look. That "you're cool" look that came just before people started relying on her too much, asking for potions or charms or advice she wasn't ready to give.
But Percy just sat there, looking overwhelmed and tired and maybe just a little bit homesick.
So she sighed, took off her sun pendant, and gently looped it over the candle like a charm. "Here," she said, softening. "This is for grounding. Light it when you're freaking out. Or when you want the nightmares to chill. I spelled it myself."
He blinked. "You made a nightmare-repelling candle?"
"I made it for me. But you seem like you need it more."
"…Thanks."
"Don't make it a thing," Csenge warned. "I'm still gonna bully you tomorrow."
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
And for the first time in three months, Csenge cracked a real, honest smile.