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TableofContents1.MyBestFriendShopsforaWeddingDress2.IPlayDodgeballwithCannibals3.WeHailtheTaxiofEternalTorment4.TysonPlayswithFire5.IGetaNewCabinMate6.DemonPigeonsAttack7.IAcceptGiftsfromaStranger8.WeBoardthePrincessAndromeda9.IHavetheWorstFamilyReunionEver10.WeHitchaRidewithDeadConfederates11.ClarisseBlowsUpEverything12.WeCheckIntoC.C.'sSpaandResort13.AnnabethTriestoSwimHome14.WeMeettheSheepofDoom15.NobodyGetstheFleece16.IGoDownwiththeShip17.WeGetaSurpriseonMiamiBeach18.ThePartyPoniesInvade19.TheChariotRaceEndswithaBang20.TheFleeceWorksItsMagicTooWellAcknowledgmentsPreviewofTheRedPyramid

ToPatrickJohnRiordan,thebeststorytellerinthefamily

ONE

MYBESTFRIENDSHOPSFORAWEDDINGDRESS

Mynightmarestartedlikethis.Iwasstandingonadesertedstreetinsomelittlebeachtown.Itwasthemiddleofthenight.Astorm

wasblowing.Windandrainrippedatthepalmtreesalongthesidewalk.Pinkandyellowstuccobuildingslinedthestreet,theirwindowsboardedup.Ablockaway,pastalineofhibiscusbushes,theoceanchurned.

Florida,Ithought.ThoughIwasn’tsurehowIknewthat.I’dneverbeentoFlorida.ThenIheardhoovesclatteringagainstthepavement.IturnedandsawmyfriendGroverrunningfor

hislife.Yeah,Isaidhooves.Groverisasatyr.Fromthewaistup,helookslikeatypicalganglyteenagerwithapeach-fuzzgoatee

andabadcaseofacne.Hewalkswithastrangelimp,butunlessyouhappentocatchhimwithouthispantson(whichIdon’trecommend),you’dneverknowtherewasanythingunhumanabouthim.Baggyjeansandfakefeethidethefactthathe’sgotfurryhindquartersandhooves.

Groverhadbeenmybestfriendinsixthgrade.He’dgoneonthisadventurewithmeandagirlnamedAnnabethtosavetheworld,butIhadn’tseenhimsincelastJuly,whenhesetoffaloneonadangerousquest—aquestnosatyrhadeverreturnedfrom.

Anyway,inmydream,Groverwashaulinggoattail,holdinghishumanshoesinhishandsthewayhedoeswhenheneedstomovefast.Hecloppedpastthelittletouristshopsandsurfboardrentalplaces.Thewindbentthepalmtreesalmosttotheground.

Groverwasterrifiedofsomethingbehindhim.Hemust’vejustcomefromthebeach.Wetsandwascakedinhisfur.He’descapedfromsomewhere.Hewastryingtogetawayfrom...something.

Abone-rattlinggrowlcutthroughthestorm.BehindGrover,atthefarendoftheblock,ashadowyfigureloomed.Itswattedasideastreetlamp,whichburstinashowerofsparks.

Groverstumbled,whimperinginfear.Hemutteredtohimself,Havetogetaway.Havetowarnthem!

Icouldn’tseewhatwaschasinghim,butIcouldhearitmutteringandcursing.Thegroundshookasitgotcloser.Groverdashedaroundastreetcornerandfaltered.He’drunintoadead-endcourtyardfullofshops.Notimetobackup.Thenearestdoorhadbeenblownopenbythestorm.Thesignabovethedarkeneddisplaywindowread:ST.AUGUSTINEBRIDALBOUTIQUE.

Groverdashedinside.Hedovebehindarackofweddingdresses.Themonster’sshadowpassedinfrontoftheshop.Icouldsmellthething—asickeningcombination

ofwetsheepwoolandrottenmeatandthatweirdsourbodyodoronlymonstershave,likeaskunkthat’sbeenlivingoffMexicanfood.

Grovertrembledbehindtheweddingdresses.Themonster’sshadowpassedon.Silenceexceptfortherain.Grovertookadeepbreath.Maybethethingwasgone.

Thenlightningflashed.Theentirefrontofthestoreexploded,andamonstrousvoicebellowed:“MIIIIINE!”

Isatboltupright,shiveringinmybed.Therewasnostorm.Nomonster.Morningsunlightfilteredthroughmybedroomwindow.IthoughtIsawashadowflickeracrosstheglass—ahumanlikeshape.Butthentherewasaknockon

mybedroomdoor—mymomcalled:“Percy,you’regoingtobelate”—andtheshadowatthewindowdisappeared.

Itmust’vebeenmyimagination.Afifth-storywindowwitharicketyoldfireescape...therecouldn’thavebeenanyoneoutthere.

“Comeon,dear,”mymothercalledagain.“Lastdayofschool.Youshouldbeexcited!You’vealmostmadeit!”

“Coming,”Imanaged.Ifeltundermypillow.MyfingersclosedreassuringlyaroundtheballpointpenIalwayssleptwith.I

broughtitout,studiedtheAncientGreekwritingengravedontheside:Anaklusmos.Riptide.Ithoughtaboutuncappingit,butsomethingheldmeback.Ihadn’tusedRiptideforsolong....Besides,mymomhadmademepromisenottousedeadlyweaponsintheapartmentafterI’dswung

ajavelinthewrongwayandtakenoutherchinacabinet.IputAnaklusmosonmynightstandanddraggedmyselfoutofbed.

IgotdressedasquicklyasIcould.Itriednottothinkaboutmynightmareormonstersortheshadowatmywindow.

Havetogetaway.Havetowarnthem!WhathadGrovermeant?Imadeathree-fingeredclawovermyheartandpushedoutward—anancientgestureGroverhad

oncetaughtmeforwardingoffevil.Thedreamcouldn’thavebeenreal.Lastdayofschool.Mymomwasright,Ishouldhavebeenexcited.Forthefirsttimeinmylife,I’d

almostmadeitanentireyearwithoutgettingexpelled.Noweirdaccidents.Nofightsintheclassroom.Noteachersturningintomonstersandtryingtokillmewithpoisonedcafeteriafoodorexplodinghomework.Tomorrow,I’dbeonmywaytomyfavoriteplaceintheworld—CampHalf-Blood.

Onlyonemoredaytogo.SurelyevenIcouldn’tmessthatup.Asusual,Ididn’thaveacluehowwrongIwas.

Mymommadebluewafflesandblueeggsforbreakfast.She’sfunnythatway,celebratingspecialoccasionswithbluefood.Ithinkit’sherwayofsaying

anythingispossible.Percycanpassseventhgrade.Wafflescanbeblue.Littlemiracleslikethat.Iateatthekitchentablewhilemymomwasheddishes.Shewasdressedinherworkuniform—a

starryblueskirtandared-and-whitestripedblousesheworetosellcandyatSweetonAmerica.Herlongbrownhairwaspulledbackinaponytail.

Thewafflestastedgreat,butIguessIwasn’tdigginginlikeIusuallydid.Mymomlookedoverandfrowned.“Percy,areyouallright?”

“Yeah...fine.”Butshecouldalwaystellwhensomethingwasbotheringme.Shedriedherhandsandsatdown

acrossfromme.“School,or...”Shedidn’tneedtofinish.Iknewwhatshewasasking.“IthinkGrover’sintrouble,”Isaid,andItoldheraboutmydream.Shepursedherlips.Wedidn’ttalkmuchabouttheotherpartofmylife.Wetriedtoliveasnormally

aspossible,butmymomknewallaboutGrover.“Iwouldn’tbetooworried,dear,”shesaid.“Groverisabigsatyrnow.Iftherewereaproblem,I’m

surewewould’veheardfrom...fromcamp....”Hershoulderstensedasshesaidthewordcamp.“Whatisit?”Iasked.“Nothing,”shesaid.“I’lltellyouwhat.Thisafternoonwe’llcelebratetheendofschool.I’lltake

youandTysontoRockefellerCenter—tothatskateboardshopyoulike.”Oh,man,thatwastempting.Wewerealwaysstrugglingwithmoney.Betweenmymom’snight

classesandmyprivateschooltuition,wecouldneveraffordtodospecialstufflikeshopforaskateboard.Butsomethinginhervoicebotheredme.

“Waitaminute,”Isaid.“Ithoughtwewerepackingmeupforcamptonight.”Shetwistedherdishrag.“Ah,dear,aboutthat...IgotamessagefromChironlastnight.”Myheartsank.ChironwastheactivitiesdirectoratCampHalf-Blood.Hewouldn’tcontactus

unlesssomethingseriouswasgoingon.“Whatdidhesay?”“Hethinks...itmightnotbesafeforyoutocometocampjustyet.Wemighthavetopostpone.”“Postpone?Mom,howcoulditnotbesafe?I’mahalf-blood!It’sliketheonlysafeplaceonearth

forme!”“Usually,dear.Butwiththeproblemsthey’rehaving—”“Whatproblems?”“Percy...I’mvery,verysorry.Iwashopingtotalktoyouaboutitthisafternoon.Ican’texplainit

allnow.I’mnotevensureChironcan.Everythinghappenedsosuddenly.”Mymindwasreeling.HowcouldInotgotocamp?Iwantedtoaskamillionquestions,butjustthen

thekitchenclockchimedthehalf-hour.Mymomlookedalmostrelieved.“Seven-thirty,dear.Youshouldgo.Tysonwillbewaiting.”“But—”“Percy,we’lltalkthisafternoon.Goontoschool.”ThatwasthelastthingIwantedtodo,butmymomhadthisfragilelookinhereyes—akindof

warning,likeifIpushedhertoohardshe’dstarttocry.Besides,shewasrightaboutmyfriendTyson.Ihadtomeethimatthesubwaystationontimeorhe’dgetupset.Hewasscaredoftravelingundergroundalone.

Igatheredupmystuff,butIstoppedinthedoorway.“Mom,thisproblematcamp.Doesit...couldithaveanythingtodowithmydreamaboutGrover?”

Shewouldn’tmeetmyeyes.“We’lltalkthisafternoon,dear.I’llexplain...asmuchasIcan.”Reluctantly,Itoldhergood-bye.IjoggeddownstairstocatchtheNumberTwotrain.Ididn’tknowitatthetime,butmymomandIwouldnevergettohaveourafternoontalk.Infact,Iwouldn’tbeseeinghomeforalong,longtime.

AsIsteppedoutside,Iglancedatthebrownstonebuildingacrossthestreet.JustforasecondIsawadarkshapeinthemorningsunlight—ahumansilhouetteagainstthebrickwall,ashadowthatbelongedtonoone.

Thenitrippledandvanished.

TWO

IPLAYDODGEBALLWITHCANNIBALS

Mydaystartednormal.OrasnormalasitevergetsatMeriwetherCollegePrep.See,it’sthis“progressive”schoolindowntownManhattan,whichmeanswesitonbeanbagchairs

insteadofatdesks,andwedon’tgetgrades,andtheteacherswearjeansandrockconcertT-shirtstowork.

That’sallcoolwithme.Imean,I’mADHDanddyslexic,likemosthalf-bloods,soI’dneverdonethatgreatinregularschoolsevenbeforetheykickedmeout.TheonlybadthingaboutMeriwetherwasthattheteachersalwayslookedonthebrightsideofthings,andthekidsweren’talways...well,bright.

Takemyfirstclasstoday:English.ThewholemiddleschoolhadreadthisbookcalledLordoftheFlies,whereallthesekidsgetmaroonedonanislandandgopsycho.Soforourfinalexam,ourteacherssentusintothebreakyardtospendanhourwithnoadultsupervisiontoseewhatwouldhappen.Whathappenedwasamassivewedgiecontestbetweentheseventhandeighthgraders,twopebblefights,andafull-tacklebasketballgame.Theschoolbully,MattSloan,ledmostofthoseactivities.

Sloanwasn’tbigorstrong,butheactedlikehewas.Hehadeyeslikeapitbull,andshaggyblackhair,andhealwaysdressedinexpensivebutsloppyclothes,likehewantedeverybodytoseehowlittlehecaredabouthisfamily’smoney.Oneofhisfrontteethwaschippedfromthetimehe’dtakenhisdaddy’sPorscheforajoyrideandrunintoaPLEASESLOWDOWNFORCHILDRENsign.

Anyway,SloanwasgivingeverybodywedgiesuntilhemadethemistakeoftryingitonmyfriendTyson.

TysonwastheonlyhomelesskidatMeriwetherCollegePrep.AsnearasmymomandIcouldfigure,he’dbeenabandonedbyhisparentswhenhewasveryyoung,probablybecausehewasso...different.Hewassix-foot-threeandbuiltliketheAbominableSnowman,buthecriedalotandwasscaredofjustabouteverything,includinghisownreflection.Hisfacewaskindofmisshapenandbrutal-looking.Icouldn’ttellyouwhatcolorhiseyeswere,becauseIcouldnevermakemyselflookhigherthanhiscrookedteeth.Hisvoicewasdeep,buthetalkedfunny,likeamuchyoungerkid—Iguessbecausehe’dnevergonetoschoolbeforecomingtoMeriwether.Heworetatteredjeans,grimysize-twentysneakers,andaplaidflannelshirtwithholesinit.HesmelledlikeaNewYorkCityalleyway,becausethat’swherehelived,inacardboardrefrigeratorboxoff72ndStreet.

MeriwetherPrephadadoptedhimasacommunityserviceprojectsoallthestudentscouldfeelgoodaboutthemselves.Unfortunately,mostofthemcouldn’tstandTyson.Oncetheydiscoveredhewasabigsoftie,despitehismassivestrengthandhisscarylooks,theymadethemselvesfeelgoodbypickingonhim.Iwasprettymuchhisonlyfriend,whichmeanthewasmyonlyfriend.

Mymomhadcomplainedtotheschoolamilliontimesthattheyweren’tdoingenoughtohelphim.She’dcalledsocialservices,butnothingeverseemedtohappen.ThesocialworkersclaimedTysondidn’texist.Theysworeupanddownthatthey’dvisitedthealleywedescribedandcouldn’tfindhim,thoughhowyoumissagiantkidlivinginarefrigeratorbox,Idon’tknow.

Anyway,MattSloansnuckupbehindhimandtriedtogivehimawedgie,andTysonpanicked.HeswattedSloanawayalittletoohard.Sloanflewfifteenfeetandgottangledinthelittlekids’tireswing.

“Youfreak!”Sloanyelled.“Whydon’tyougobacktoyourcardboardbox!”Tysonstartedsobbing.Hesatdownonthejunglegymsohardhebentthebar,andburiedhisheadin

hishands.“Takeitback,Sloan!”Ishouted.Sloanjustsneeredatme.“Whydoyouevenbother,Jackson?Youmighthavefriendsifyouweren’t

alwaysstickingupforthatfreak.”Iballedmyfists.Ihopedmyfacewasn’tasredasitfelt.“He’snotafreak.He’sjust...”Itriedtothinkoftherightthingtosay,butSloanwasn’tlistening.Heandhisbiguglyfriendswere

toobusylaughing.Iwonderedifitweremyimagination,orifSloanhadmoregoonshangingaroundhimthanusual.Iwasusedtoseeinghimwithtwoorthree,buttodayhehadlike,halfadozenmore,andIwasprettysureI’dneverseenthembefore.

“JustwaittillPE,Jackson,”Sloancalled.“Youaresodead.”Whenfirstperiodended,ourEnglishteacher,Mr.deMilo,cameoutsidetoinspectthecarnage.He

pronouncedthatwe’dunderstoodLordoftheFliesperfectly.Weallpassedhiscourse,andweshouldnever,nevergrowuptobeviolentpeople.MattSloannoddedearnestly,thengavemeachip-toothedgrin.

IhadtopromisetobuyTysonanextrapeanutbuttersandwichatlunchtogethimtostopsobbing.“I...Iamafreak?”heaskedme.“No,”Ipromised,grittingmyteeth.“MattSloanisthefreak.”Tysonsniffled.“Youareagoodfriend.Missyounextyearif...ifIcan’t...”Hisvoicetrembled.Irealizedhedidn’tknowifhe’dbeinvitedbacknextyearforthecommunity

serviceproject.Iwonderediftheheadmasterhadevenbotheredtalkingtohimaboutit.“Don’tworry,bigguy,”Imanaged.“Everything’sgoingtobefine.”TysongavemesuchagratefullookIfeltlikeabigliar.HowcouldIpromiseakidlikehimthat

anythingwouldbefine?

Ournextexamwasscience.Mrs.Teslatoldusthatwehadtomixchemicalsuntilwesucceededinmakingsomethingexplode.Tysonwasmylabpartner.Hishandswerewaytoobigforthetinyvialsweweresupposedtouse.Heaccidentallyknockedatrayofchemicalsoffthecounterandmadeanorangemushroomcloudinthetrashcan.

AfterMrs.Teslaevacuatedthelabandcalledthehazardouswasteremovalsquad,shepraisedTysonandmeforbeingnaturalchemists.Wewerethefirstoneswho’deveracedherexaminunderthirtyseconds.

Iwasgladthemorningwentfast,becauseitkeptmefromthinkingtoomuchaboutmyproblems.Icouldn’tstandtheideathatsomethingmightbewrongatcamp.Evenworse,Icouldn’tshakethememoryofmybaddream.IhadaterriblefeelingthatGroverwasindanger.

Insocialstudies,whileweweredrawinglatitude/longitudemaps,Iopenedmynotebookandstaredatthephotoinside—myfriendAnnabethonvacationinWashington,D.C.ShewaswearingjeansandadenimjacketoverherorangeCampHalf-BloodT-shirt.Herblondhairwaspulledbackinabandanna.ShewasstandinginfrontoftheLincolnMemorialwithherarmscrossed,lookingextremelypleasedwithherself,likeshe’dpersonallydesignedtheplace.See,Annabethwantstobeanarchitectwhenshegrowsup,soshe’salwaysvisitingfamousmonumentsandstuff.She’sweirdthatway.She’de-mailedmethepictureafterspringbreak,andeveryonceinawhileI’dlookatitjusttoremindmyselfshewasrealandCampHalf-Bloodhadn’tjustbeenmyimagination.

IwishedAnnabethwerehere.She’dknowwhattomakeofmydream.I’dneveradmitittoher,butshewassmarterthanme,evenifshewasannoyingsometimes.

IwasabouttoclosemynotebookwhenMattSloanreachedoverandrippedthephotooutoftherings.

“Hey!”Iprotested.Sloancheckedoutthepictureandhiseyesgotwide.“Noway,Jackson.Whoisthat?Sheisnotyour

—”“Giveitback!”Myearsfelthot.Sloanhandedthephototohisuglybuddies,whosnickeredandstartedrippingituptomakespit

wads.Theywerenewkidswhomust’vebeenvisiting,becausetheywereallwearingthosestupidHI!MYNAMEIS:tagsfromtheadmissionsoffice.Theymust’vehadaweirdsenseofhumor,too,becausethey’dallfilledinstrangenameslike:MARROWSUCKER,SKULLEATER,andJOEBOB.Nohumanbeingshadnameslikethat.

“Theseguysaremovingherenextyear,”Sloanbragged,likethatwassupposedtoscareme.“Ibettheycanpaythetuition,too,unlikeyourretardfriend.”

“He’snotretarded.”Ihadtotryreally,reallyhardnottopunchSloantheface.“You’resuchaloser,Jackson.GoodthingI’mgonnaputyououtofyourmiserynextperiod.”Hishugebuddieschewedupmyphoto.Iwantedtopulverizethem,butIwasunderstrictordersfrom

Chironnevertotakemyangeroutonregularmortals,nomatterhowobnoxioustheywere.Ihadtosavemyfightingformonsters.

Still,partofmethought,ifSloanonlyknewwhoIreallywas...Thebellrang.AsTysonandIwereleavingclass,agirl’svoicewhispered,“Percy!”Ilookedaroundthelockerarea,butnobodywaspayingmeanyattention.LikeanygirlatMeriwether

wouldeverbecaughtdeadcallingmyname.BeforeIhadtimetoconsiderwhetherornotI’dbeenimaginingthings,acrowdofkidsrushedfor

thegym,carryingTysonandmealongwiththem.ItwastimeforPE.Ourcoachhadpromisedusafree-for-alldodgeballgame,andMattSloanhadpromisedtokillme.

ThegymuniformatMeriwetherisskyblueshortsandtie-dyedT-shirts.Fortunately,wedidmostofourathleticstuffinside,sowedidn’thavetojogthroughTribecalookinglikeabunchofboot-camphippiechildren.

IchangedasquicklyasIcouldinthelockerroombecauseIdidn’twanttodealwithSloan.IwasabouttoleavewhenTysoncalled,“Percy?”

Hehadn’tchangedyet.Hewasstandingbytheweightroomdoor,clutchinghisgymclothes.“Willyou...uh...”

“Oh.Yeah.”Itriednottosoundaggravatedaboutit.“Yeah,sure,man.”Tysonduckedinsidetheweightroom.Istoodguardoutsidethedoorwhilehechanged.Ifeltkindof

awkwarddoingthis,butheaskedmetomostdays.Ithinkit’sbecausehe’scompletelyhairyandhe’sgotweirdscarsonhisbackthatI’veneverhadthecouragetoaskhimabout.

Anyway,I’dlearnedthehardwaythatifpeopleteasedTysonwhilehewasdressingout,he’dgetupsetandstartrippingthedoorsofflockers.

Whenwegotintothegym,CoachNunleywassittingathislittledeskreadingSportsIllustrated.Nunleywasaboutamillionyearsold,withbifocalsandnoteethandagreasywaveofgrayhair.HeremindedmeoftheOracleatCampHalf-Blood—whichwasashriveled-upmummy—exceptCoachNunleymovedalotlessandheneverbillowedgreensmoke.Well,atleastnotthatI’dobserved.

MattSloansaid,“Coach,canIbecaptain?”“Eh?”CoachNunleylookedupfromhismagazine.“Yeah,”hemumbled.“Mm-hmm.”Sloangrinnedandtookchargeofthepicking.Hemademetheotherteam’scaptain,butitdidn’t

matterwhoIpicked,becauseallthejocksandthepopularkidsmovedovertoSloan’sside.Sodidthebiggroupofvisitors.

OnmysideIhadTyson,CoreyBailerthecomputergeek,RajMandalithecalculuswhiz,andahalfdozenotherkidswhoalwaysgotharassedbySloanandhisgang.NormallyIwould’vebeenokaywithjustTyson—hewasworthhalfateamallbyhimself—butthevisitorsonSloan’steamwerealmostastallandstrong-lookingasTyson,andthereweresixofthem.

MattSloanspilledacagefullofballsinthemiddleofthegym.“Scared,”Tysonmumbled.“Smellfunny.”Ilookedathim.“Whatsmellsfunny?”BecauseIdidn’tfigurehewastalkingabouthimself.“Them.”TysonpointedatSloan’snewfriends.“Smellfunny.”Thevisitorswerecrackingtheirknuckles,eyeinguslikeitwasslaughtertime.Icouldn’thelp

wonderingwheretheywerefrom.Someplacewheretheyfedkidsrawmeatandbeatthemwithsticks.Sloanblewthecoach’swhistleandthegamebegan.Sloan’steamranforthecenterline.Onmyside,

RajMandaliyelledsomethinginUrdu,probably“Ihavetogopotty!”andranfortheexit.CoreyBailertriedtocrawlbehindthewallmatandhide.Therestofmyteamdidtheirbesttocowerinfearandnotlookliketargets.

“Tyson,”Isaid.“Let’sg—”Aballslammedintomygut.Isatdownhardinthemiddleofthegymfloor.Theotherteamexploded

inlaughter.Myeyesightwasfuzzy.IfeltlikeI’djustgottentheHeimlichmaneuverfromagorilla.Icouldn’t

believeanybodycouldthrowthathard.Tysonyelled,“Percy,duck!”Irolledasanotherdodgeballwhistledpastmyearatthespeedofsound.Whooom!Ithitthewallmat,andCoreyBaileryelped.“Hey!”IyelledatSloan’steam.“Youcouldkillsomebody!”ThevisitornamedJoeBobgrinnedatmeevilly.Somehow,helookedalotbiggernow...even

tallerthanTyson.HisbicepsbulgedbeneathhisT-shirt.“Ihopeso,PerseusJackson!Ihopeso!”Thewayhesaidmynamesentachilldownmyback.NobodycalledmePerseusexceptthosewho

knewmytrueidentity.Friends...andenemies.WhathadTysonsaid?Theysmellfunny.Monsters.AllaroundMattSloan,thevisitorsweregrowinginsize.Theywerenolongerkids.Theywere

eight-foot-tallgiantswithwildeyes,pointyteeth,andhairyarmstattooedwithsnakesandhulawomenandValentinehearts.

MattSloandroppedhisball.“Whoa!You’renotfromDetroit!Who...”Theotherkidsonhisteamstartedscreamingandbackingtowardtheexit,butthegiantnamed

MarrowSuckerthrewaballwithdeadlyaccuracy.ItstreakedpastRajMandalijustashewasabouttoleaveandhitthedoor,slammingitshutlikemagic.Rajandsomeoftheotherkidsbangedonitdesperatelybutitwouldn’tbudge.

“Letthemgo!”Iyelledatthegiants.TheonecalledJoeBobgrowledatme.Hehadatattooonhisbicepsthatsaid:JBluvsBabycakes.

“Andloseourtastymorsels?No,SonoftheSeaGod.WeLaistrygoniansaren’tjustplayingforyourdeath.Wewantlunch!”

Hewavedhishandandanewbatchofdodgeballsappearedonthecenterline—buttheseballsweren’tmadeofredrubber.Theywerebronze,thesizeofcannonballs,perforatedlikewiffleballswithfirebubblingouttheholes.Theymust’vebeensearinghot,butthegiantspickedthemupwiththeirbarehands.

“Coach!”Iyelled.Nunleylookedupsleepily,butifhesawanythingabnormalaboutthedodgeballgame,hedidn’tlet

on.That’stheproblemwithmortals.AmagicalforcecalledtheMistobscuresthetrueappearanceofmonstersandgodsfromtheirvision,somortalstendtoseeonlywhattheycanunderstand.Maybethecoachsawafeweighthgraderspoundingtheyoungerkidslikeusual.MaybetheotherkidssawMattSloan’sthugsgettingreadytotossMolotovcocktailsaround.(Itwouldn’thavebeenthefirsttime.)Atanyrate,Iwasprettysurenobodyelserealizedweweredealingwithgenuineman-eatingbloodthirstymonsters.

“Yeah.Mm-hmm,”Coachmuttered.“Playnice.”Andhewentbacktohismagazine.ThegiantnamedSkullEaterthrewhisball.Idoveasideasthefierybronzecometsailedpastmy

shoulder.“Corey!”Iscreamed.Tysonpulledhimoutfrombehindtheexercisematjustastheballexplodedagainstit,blastingthe

mattosmokingshreds.“Run!”Itoldmyteammates.“Theotherexit!”Theyranforthelockerroom,butwithanotherwaveofJoeBob’shand,thatdooralsoslammedshut.“Nooneleavesunlessyou’reout!”JoeBobroared.“Andyou’renotoutuntilweeatyou!”Helaunchedhisownfireball.Myteammatesscatteredasitblastedacraterinthegymfloor.IreachedforRiptide,whichIalwayskeptinmypocket,butthenIrealizedIwaswearinggym

shorts.Ihadnopockets.Riptidewastuckedinmyjeansinsidemygymlocker.Andthelockerroomdoorwassealed.Iwascompletelydefenseless.

Anotherfireballcamestreakingtowardme.Tysonpushedmeoutoftheway,buttheexplosionstillblewmeheadoverheels.Ifoundmyselfsprawledonthegymfloor,dazedfromsmoke,mytie-dyedT-shirtpepperedwithsizzlingholes.Justacrossthecenterline,twohungrygiantswereglaringdownatme.

“Flesh!”theybellowed.“Herofleshforlunch!”Theybothtookaim.“Percyneedshelp!”Tysonyelled,andhejumpedinfrontofmejustastheythrewtheirballs.“Tyson!”Iscreamed,butitwastoolate.Bothballsslammedintohim...butno...he’dcaughtthem.SomehowTyson,whowassoclumsy

heknockedoverlabequipmentandbrokeplaygroundstructuresonaregularbasis,hadcaughttwofierymetalballsspeedingtowardhimatazillionmilesanhour.Hesentthemhurtlingbacktowardtheirsurprisedowners,whoscreamed,“BAAAAAD!”asthebronzespheresexplodedagainsttheirchests.

Thegiantsdisintegratedintwincolumnsofflame—asuresigntheyweremonsters,allright.Monstersdon’tdie.Theyjustdissipateintosmokeanddust,whichsavesheroesalotoftroublecleaningupafterafight.

“Mybrothers!”JoeBobtheCannibalwailed.HeflexedhismusclesandhisBabycakestattoorippled.“Youwillpayfortheirdestruction!”

“Tyson!”Isaid.“Lookout!”Anothercomethurtledtowardus.Tysonjusthadtimetoswatitaside.ItflewstraightoverCoach

Nunley’sheadandlandedinthebleacherswithahugeKA-BOOM!Kidswererunningaroundscreaming,tryingtoavoidthesizzlingcratersinthefloor.Otherswere

bangingonthedoor,callingforhelp.Sloanhimselfstoodpetrifiedinthemiddleofthecourt,watchingindisbeliefasballsofdeathflewaroundhim.

CoachNunleystillwasn’tseeinganything.Hetappedhishearingaidliketheexplosionsweregivinghiminterference,buthekepthiseyesonhismagazine.

Surelythewholeschoolcouldhearthenoise.Theheadmaster,thepolice,somebodywouldcomehelpus.

“Victorywillbeours!”roaredJoeBobtheCannibal.“Wewillfeastonyourbones!”Iwantedtotellhimhewastakingthedodgeballgamewaytooseriously,butbeforeIcould,he

heftedanotherball.Theotherthreegiantsfollowedhislead.Iknewweweredead.Tysoncouldn’tdeflectallthoseballsatonce.Hishandshadtobeseriously

burnedfromblockingthefirstvolley.Withoutmysword...Ihadacrazyidea.Irantowardthelockerroom.“Move!”Itoldmyteammates.“Awayfromthedoor.”Explosionsbehindme.Tysonhadbattedtwooftheballsbacktowardtheirownersandblastedthem

toashes.Thatlefttwogiantsstillstanding.Athirdballhurtledstraightatme.Iforcedmyselftowait—oneMississippi,twoMississippi—then

doveasideasthefieryspheredemolishedthelockerroomdoor.Now,Ifiguredthatthebuilt-upgasinmostboys’lockerroomswasenoughtocauseanexplosion,so

Iwasn’tsurprisedwhentheflamingdodgeballignitedahugeWHOOOOOOOM!Thewallblewapart.Lockerdoors,socks,athleticsupporters,andothervariousnastypersonal

belongingsrainedalloverthegym.IturnedjustintimetoseeTysonpunchSkullEaterintheface.Thegiantcrumpled.Butthelastgiant,

JoeBob,hadwiselyheldontohisownball,waitingforanopportunity.HethrewjustasTysonwasturningtofacehim.

“No!”Iyelled.TheballcaughtTysonsquareinthechest.Heslidthelengthofthecourtandslammedintotheback

wall,whichcrackedandpartiallycrumbledontopofhim,makingaholerightontoChurchStreet.Ididn’tseehowTysoncouldstillbealive,butheonlylookeddazed.Thebronzeballwassmokingathisfeet.

Tysontriedtopickitup,buthefellback,stunned,intoapileofcinderblocks.“Well!”JoeBobgloated.“I’mthelastonestanding!I’llhaveenoughmeattobringBabycakesa

doggiebag!”HepickedupanotherballandaimeditatTyson.“Stop!”Iyelled.“It’smeyouwant!”Thegiantgrinned.“Youwishtodiefirst,younghero?”Ihadtodosomething.Riptidehadtobearoundheresomewhere.ThenIspottedmyjeansinasmokingheapofclothesrightbythegiant’sfeet.IfIcouldonlygetthere.

...Iknewitwashopeless,butIcharged.Thegiantlaughed.“Mylunchapproaches.”Heraisedhisarmtothrow.Ibracedmyselftodie.Suddenlythegiant’sbodywentrigid.Hisexpressionchangedfromgloatingtosurprise.Rightwhere

hisbellybuttonshould’vebeen,hisT-shirtrippedopenandhegrewsomethinglikeahorn—no,notahorn—theglowingtipofablade.

Theballdroppedoutofhishand.Themonsterstareddownattheknifethathadjustrunhimthroughfrombehind.

Hemuttered,“Ow,”andburstintoacloudofgreenflame,whichIfiguredwasgoingtomakeBabycakesprettyupset.

StandinginthesmokewasmyfriendAnnabeth.Herfacewasgrimyandscratched.Shehadaraggedbackpackslungoverhershoulder,herbaseballcaptuckedinherpocket,abronzeknifeinherhand,andawildlookinherstorm-grayeyes,likeshe’djustbeenchasedathousandmilesbyghosts.

MattSloan,who’dbeenstandingtheredumbfoundedthewholetime,finallycametohissenses.HeblinkedatAnnabeth,asifhedimlyrecognizedherfrommynotebookpicture.“That’sthegirl...That’sthegirl—”

Annabethpunchedhiminthenoseandknockedhimflat.“Andyou,”shetoldhim,“layoffmyfriend.”

Thegymwasinflames.Kidswerestillrunningaroundscreaming.Iheardsirenswailingandagarbledvoiceovertheintercom.Throughtheglasswindowsoftheexitdoors,Icouldseetheheadmaster,Mr.Bonsai,wrestlingwiththelock,acrowdofteacherspilingupbehindhim.

“Annabeth...”Istammered.“Howdidyou...howlonghaveyou...”“Prettymuchallmorning.”Shesheathedherbronzeknife.“I’vebeentryingtofindagoodtimeto

talktoyou,butyouwereneveralone.”“TheshadowIsawthismorning—thatwas—”Myfacefelthot.“Ohmygods,youwerelookingin

mybedroomwindow?”“There’snotimetoexplain!”shesnapped,thoughshelookedalittlered-facedherself.“Ijustdidn’t

wantto—”“There!”awomanscreamed.Thedoorsburstopenandtheadultscamepouringin.“Meetmeoutside,”Annabethtoldme.“Andhim.”ShepointedtoTyson,whowasstillsittingdazed

againstthewall.AnnabethgavehimalookofdistastethatIdidn’tquiteunderstand.“You’dbetterbringhim.”

“What?”“Notime!”shesaid.“Hurry!”SheputonherYankeesbaseballcap,whichwasamagicgiftfromhermom,andinstantlyvanished.

Thatleftmestandingaloneinthemiddleoftheburninggymnasiumwhentheheadmastercamecharginginwithhalfthefacultyandacoupleofpoliceofficers.

“PercyJackson?”Mr.Bonsaisaid.“What...how...”Overbythebrokenwall,Tysongroanedandstoodupfromthepileofcinderblocks.“Headhurts.”MattSloanwascomingaround,too.Hefocusedonmewithalookofterror.“Percydidit,Mr.

Bonsai!Hesetthewholebuildingonfire.CoachNunleywilltellyou!Hesawitall!”CoachNunleyhadbeendutifullyreadinghismagazine,butjustmyluck—hechosethatmomentto

lookupwhenSloansaidhisname.“Eh?Yeah.Mm-hmm.”Theotheradultsturnedtowardme.Iknewtheywouldneverbelieveme,evenifIcouldtellthemthe

truth.IgrabbedRiptideoutofmyruinedjeans,toldTyson,“Comeon!”andjumpedthroughthegaping

holeinthesideofthebuilding.

THREE

WEHAILTHETAXIOFETERNALTORMENT

AnnabethwaswaitingforusinanalleydownChurchStreet.ShepulledTysonandmeoffthesidewalkjustasafiretruckscreamedpast,headingforMeriwetherPrep.

“Where’dyoufindhim?”shedemanded,pointingatTyson.Now,underdifferentcircumstances,Iwould’vebeenreallyhappytoseeher.We’dmadeourpeace

lastsummer,despitethefactthathermomwasAthenaanddidn’tgetalongwithmydad.I’dmissedAnnabethprobablymorethanIwantedtoadmit.

ButI’djustbeenattackedbycannibalgiants,Tysonhadsavedmylifethreeorfourtimes,andallAnnabethcoulddowasglareathimlikehewastheproblem.

“He’smyfriend,”Itoldher.“Ishehomeless?”“Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?Hecanhearyou,youknow.Whydon’tyouaskhim?”Shelookedsurprised.“Hecantalk?”“Italk,”Tysonadmitted.“Youarepretty.”“Ah!Gross!”Annabethsteppedawayfromhim.Icouldn’tbelieveshewasbeingsorude.IexaminedTyson’shands,whichIwassuremust’vebeen

badlyscorchedbytheflamingdodgeballs,buttheylookedfine—grimyandscarred,withdirtyfingernailsthesizeofpotatochips—buttheyalwayslookedlikethat.“Tyson,”Isaidindisbelief.“Yourhandsaren’tevenburned.”

“Ofcoursenot,”Annabethmuttered.“I’msurprisedtheLaistrygonianshadthegutstoattackyouwithhimaround.”

TysonseemedfascinatedbyAnnabeth’sblondhair.Hetriedtotouchit,butshesmackedhishandaway.

“Annabeth,”Isaid,“whatareyoutalkingabout?Laistry-what?”“Laistrygonians.Themonstersinthegym.They’rearaceofgiantcannibalswholiveinthefarnorth.

Odysseusranintothemonce,butI’veneverseenthemasfarsouthasNewYorkbefore.”“Laistry—Ican’tevensaythat.WhatwouldyoucalltheminEnglish?”Shethoughtaboutitforamoment.“Canadians,”shedecided.“Nowcomeon,wehavetogetoutof

here.”“Thepolice’llbeafterme.”“That’stheleastofourproblems,”shesaid.“Haveyoubeenhavingthedreams?”“Thedreams...aboutGrover?”Herfaceturnedpale.“Grover?No,whataboutGrover?”Itoldhermydream.“Why?Whatwereyoudreamingabout?”Hereyeslookedstormy,likehermindwasracingamillionmilesanhour.

“Camp,”shesaidatlast.“Bigtroubleatcamp.”“Mymomwassayingthesamething!Butwhatkindoftrouble?”“Idon’tknowexactly.Something’swrong.Wehavetogetthererightaway.Monstershavebeen

chasingmeallthewayfromVirginia,tryingtostopme.Haveyouhadalotofattacks?”Ishookmyhead.“Noneallyear...untiltoday.”“None?Buthow...”HereyesdriftedtoTyson.“Oh.”“Whatdomean,‘oh’?”Tysonraisedhishandlikehewasstillinclass.“CanadiansinthegymcalledPercysomething...

SonoftheSeaGod?”AnnabethandIexchangedlooks.Ididn’tknowhowIcouldexplain,butIfiguredTysondeservedthetruthafteralmostgettingkilled.“Bigguy,”Isaid,“youeverhearthoseoldstoriesabouttheGreekgods?LikeZeus,Poseidon,

Athena—”“Yes,”Tysonsaid.“Well...thosegodsarestillalive.TheykindoffollowWesternCivilizationaround,livinginthe

strongestcountries,solikenowthey’reintheU.S.Andsometimestheyhavekidswithmortals.Kidscalledhalf-bloods.”

“Yes,”Tysonsaid,likehewasstillwaitingformetogettothepoint.“Uh,well,AnnabethandIarehalf-bloods,”Isaid.“We’relike...heroes-in-training.And

whenevermonsterspickupourscent,theyattackus.That’swhatthosegiantswereinthegym.Monsters.”“Yes.”Istaredathim.Hedidn’tseemsurprisedorconfusedbywhatIwastellinghim,whichsurprisedand

confusedme.“So...youbelieveme?”Tysonnodded.“Butyouare...SonoftheSeaGod?”“Yeah,”Iadmitted.“MydadisPoseidon.”Tysonfrowned.Nowhelookedconfused.“Butthen...”Asirenwailed.Apolicecarracedpastouralley.“Wedon’thavetimeforthis,”Annabethsaid.“We’lltalkinthetaxi.”“Ataxiallthewaytocamp?”Isaid.“Youknowhowmuchmoney—”“Trustme.”Ihesitated.“WhataboutTyson?”IimaginedescortingmygiantfriendintoCampHalf-Blood.Ifhefreakedoutonaregularplayground

withregularbullies,howwouldheactatatrainingcampfordemigods?Ontheotherhand,thecopswouldbelookingforus.

“Wecan’tjustleavehim,”Idecided.“He’llbeintrouble,too.”“Yeah.”Annabethlookedgrim.“Wedefinitelyneedtotakehim.Nowcomeon.”Ididn’tlikethewayshesaidthat,asifTysonwereabigdiseaseweneededtogettothehospital,

butIfollowedherdownthealley.Togetherthethreeofussneakedthroughthesidestreetsofdowntownwhileahugecolumnofsmokebillowedupbehindusfrommyschoolgymnasium.

***“Here.”AnnabethstoppedusonthecornerofThomasandTrimble.Shefishedaroundinher

backpack.“IhopeIhaveoneleft.”ShelookedevenworsethanI’drealizedatfirst.Herchinwascut.Twigsandgrassweretangledin

herponytail,asifshe’dsleptseveralnightsintheopen.Theslashesonthehemsofherjeanslookedsuspiciouslylikeclawmarks.

“Whatareyoulookingfor?”Iasked.Allaroundus,sirenswailed.Ifigureditwouldn’tbelongbeforemorecopscruisedby,lookingfor

juveniledelinquentgym-bombers.NodoubtMattSloanhadgiventhemastatementbynow.He’dprobablytwistedthestoryaroundsothatTysonandIwerethebloodthirstycannibals.

“Foundone.Thankthegods.”AnnabethpulledoutagoldcointhatIrecognizedasadrachma,thecurrencyofMountOlympus.IthadZeus’slikenessstampedononesideandtheEmpireStateBuildingontheother.

“Annabeth,”Isaid,“NewYorktaxidriverswon’ttakethat.”“Stêthi,”sheshoutedinAncientGreek.“Ôhármadiabolês!”Asusual,themomentshespokeinthelanguageofOlympus,Isomehowunderstoodit.She’dsaid:

Stop,ChariotofDamnation!Thatdidn’texactlymakemefeelrealexcitedaboutwhateverherplanwas.Shethrewhercoinintothestreet,butinsteadofclatteringontheasphalt,thedrachmasankright

throughanddisappeared.Foramoment,nothinghappened.Then,justwherethecoinhadfallen,theasphaltdarkened.Itmeltedintoarectangularpoolaboutthe

sizeofaparkingspace—bubblingredliquidlikeblood.Thenacareruptedfromtheooze.Itwasataxi,allright,butunlikeeveryothertaxiinNewYork,itwasn’tyellow.Itwassmokygray.I

meanitlookedlikeitwaswovenoutofsmoke,likeyoucouldwalkrightthroughit.Therewerewordsprintedonthedoor—somethinglikeGYARSSIRES—butmydyslexiamadeithardformetodecipherwhatitsaid.

Thepassengerwindowrolleddown,andanoldwomanstuckherheadout.Shehadamopofgrizzledhaircoveringhereyes,andshespokeinaweirdmumblingway,likeshe’djusthadashotofNovocain.“Passage?Passage?”

“ThreetoCampHalf-Blood,”Annabethsaid.Sheopenedthecab’sbackdoorandwavedatmetogetin,likethiswasallcompletelynormal.

“Ach!”theoldwomanscreeched.“Wedon’ttakehiskind!”ShepointedabonyfingeratTyson.Whatwasit?Pick-on-Big-and-Ugly-KidsDay?“Extrapay,”Annabethpromised.“Threemoredrachmaonarrival.”“Done!”thewomanscreamed.ReluctantlyIgotinthecab.Tysonsqueezedinthemiddle.Annabethcrawledinlast.Theinteriorwasalsosmokygray,butitfeltsolidenough.Theseatwascrackedandlumpy—no

differentthanmosttaxis.TherewasnoPlexiglasscreenseparatingusfromtheoldladydriving...Waitaminute.Therewasn’tjustoneoldlady.Therewerethree,allcrammedinthefrontseat,eachwithstringyhaircoveringhereyes,bonyhands,andacharcoal-coloredsackclothdress.

Theonedrivingsaid,“LongIsland!Out-of-metrofarebonus!Ha!”Sheflooredtheaccelerator,andmyheadslammedagainstthebackrest.Aprerecordedvoicecame

onoverthespeaker:Hi,thisisGanymede,cup-bearertoZeus,andwhenI’moutbuyingwinefortheLordoftheSkies,Ialwaysbuckleup!

Ilookeddownandfoundalargeblackchaininsteadofaseatbelt.IdecidedIwasn’tthatdesperate...yet.

ThecabspedaroundthecornerofWestBroadway,andthegrayladysittinginthemiddlescreeched,“Lookout!Goleft!”

“Well,ifyou’dgivemetheeye,Tempest,Icouldseethat!”thedrivercomplained.Waitaminute.Givehertheeye?Ididn’thavetimetoaskquestionsbecausethedriverswervedtoavoidanoncomingdeliverytruck,

ranoverthecurbwithajaw-rattlingthump,andflewintothenextblock.“Wasp!”thethirdladysaidtothedriver.“Givemethegirl’scoin!Iwanttobiteit.”“Youbititlasttime,Anger!”saidthedriver,whosenamemust’vebeenWasp.“It’smyturn!”“Isnot!”yelledtheonecalledAnger.Themiddleone,Tempest,screamed,“Redlight!”“Brake!”yelledAnger.Instead,Waspflooredtheacceleratorandrodeuponthecurb,screechingaroundanothercorner,and

knockingoveranewspaperbox.SheleftmystomachsomewherebackonBroomeStreet.“Excuseme,”Isaid.“But...canyousee?”“No!”screamedWaspfrombehindthewheel.“No!”screamedTempestfromthemiddle.“Ofcourse!”screamedAngerbytheshotgunwindow.IlookedatAnnabeth.“They’reblind?”“Notcompletely,”Annabethsaid.“Theyhaveaneye.”“Oneeye?”“Yeah.”“Each?”“No.Oneeyetotal.”Nexttome,Tysongroanedandgrabbedtheseat.“Notfeelingsogood.”“Oh,man,”Isaid,becauseI’dseenTysongetcarsickonschoolfieldtripsanditwasnotsomething

youwantedtobewithinfiftyfeetof.“Hanginthere,bigguy.Anybodygotagarbagebagorsomething?”Thethreegrayladiesweretoobusysquabblingtopaymeanyattention.IlookedoveratAnnabeth,

whowashangingonfordearlife,andIgaveherawhy-did-you-do-this-to-melook.“Hey,”shesaid,“GraySistersTaxiisthefastestwaytocamp.”“Thenwhydidn’tyoutakeitfromVirginia?”“That’soutsidetheirservicearea,”shesaid,likethatshouldbeobvious.“TheyonlyserveGreater

NewYorkandsurroundingcommunities.”“We’vehadfamouspeopleinthiscab!”Angerexclaimed.“Jason!Yourememberhim?”“Don’tremindme!”Waspwailed.“Andwedidn’thaveacabbackthen,youoldbat.Thatwasthree

thousandyearsago!”“Givemethetooth!”AngertriedtograbatWasp’smouth,butWaspswattedherhandaway.

“OnlyifTempestgivesmetheeye!”“No!”Tempestscreeched.“Youhadityesterday!”“ButI’mdriving,youoldhag!”“Excuses!Turn!Thatwasyourturn!”WaspswervedhardontoDelanceyStreet,squishingmebetweenTysonandthedoor.Shepunched

thegasandweshotuptheWilliamsburgBridgeatseventymilesanhour.Thethreesisterswerefightingforrealnow,slappingeachotherasAngertriedtograbatWasp’s

faceandWasptriedtograbatTempest’s.Withtheirhairflyingandtheirmouthsopen,screamingateachother,IrealizedthatnoneofthesistershadanyteethexceptforWasp,whohadonemossyyellowincisor.Insteadofeyes,theyjusthadclosed,sunkeneyelids,exceptforAnger,whohadonebloodshotgreeneyethatstaredateverythinghungrily,asifitcouldn’tgetenoughofanythingitsaw.

FinallyAnger,whohadtheadvantageofsight,managedtoyankthetoothoutofhersisterWasp’smouth.ThismadeWaspsomadsheswervedtowardtheedgeoftheWilliamsburgBridge,yelling,“’Ivitback!’Ivitback!”

Tysongroanedandclutchedhisstomach.“Uh,ifanybody’sinterested,”Isaid,“we’regoingtodie!”“Don’tworry,”Annabethtoldme,soundingprettyworried.“TheGraySistersknowwhatthey’re

doing.They’rereallyverywise.”ThiscomingfromthedaughterofAthena,butIwasn’texactlyreassured.Wewereskimmingalong

theedgeofabridgeahundredandthirtyfeetabovetheEastRiver.“Yes,wise!”Angergrinnedintherearviewmirror,showingoffhernewlyacquiredtooth.“Weknow

things!”“EverystreetinManhattan!”Waspbragged,stillhittinghersister.“ThecapitalofNepal!”“Thelocationyouseek!”Tempestadded.Immediatelyhersisterspummeledherfromeitherside,screaming,“Bequiet!Bequiet!Hedidn’t

evenaskyet!”“What?”Isaid.“Whatlocation?I’mnotseekingany—”“Nothing!”Tempestsaid.“You’reright,boy.It’snothing!”“Tellme.”“No!”theyallscreamed.“Thelasttimewetold,itwashorrible!”Tempestsaid.“Eyetossedinalake!”Angeragreed.“Yearstofinditagain!”Waspmoaned.“Andspeakingofthat—giveitback!”“No!”yelledAnger.“Eye!”Waspyelled.“Gimme!”ShewhackedhersisterAngerontheback.Therewasasickeningpopandsomethingflewoutof

Anger’sface.Angerfumbledforit,tryingtocatchit,butsheonlymanagedtobatitwiththebackofherhand.Theslimygreenorbsailedoverhershoulder,intothebackseat,andstraightintomylap.

Ijumpedsohard,myheadhittheceilingandtheeyeballrolledaway.“Ican’tsee!”allthreesistersyelled.“Givemetheeye!”Waspwailed.

“Givehertheeye!”Annabethscreamed.“Idon’thaveit!”Isaid.“There,byyourfoot,”Annabethsaid.“Don’tsteponit!Getit!”“I’mnotpickingthatup!”Thetaxislammedagainsttheguardrailandskiddedalongwithahorriblegrindingnoise.Thewhole

carshuddered,billowinggraysmokeasifitwereabouttodissolvefromthestrain.“Goingtobesick!”Tysonwarned.“Annabeth,”Iyelled,“letTysonuseyourbackpack!”“Areyoucrazy?Gettheeye!”Waspyankedthewheel,andthetaxiswervedawayfromtherail.Wehurtleddownthebridgetoward

Brooklyn,goingfasterthananyhumantaxi.TheGraySistersscreechedandpummeledeachotherandcriedoutfortheireye.

AtlastIsteeledmynerves.Irippedoffachunkofmytie-dyedT-shirt,whichwasalreadyfallingapartfromalltheburnmarks,andusedittopicktheeyeballoffthefloor.

“Niceboy!”Angercried,asifshesomehowknewIhadhermissingpeeper.“Giveitback!”“Notuntilyouexplain,”Itoldher.“Whatwereyoutalkingabout,thelocationIseek?”“Notime!”Tempestcried.“Accelerating!”Ilookedoutthewindow.Sureenough,treesandcarsandwholeneighborhoodswerenowzippingby

inagrayblur.WewerealreadyoutofBrooklyn,headingthroughthemiddleofLongIsland.“Percy,”Annabethwarned,“theycan’tfindourdestinationwithouttheeye.We’lljustkeep

acceleratinguntilwebreakintoamillionpieces.”“Firsttheyhavetotellme,”Isaid.“OrI’llopenthewindowandthrowtheeyeintooncoming

traffic.”“No!”theGraySisterswailed.“Toodangerous!”“I’mrollingdownthewindow.”“Wait!”theGraySistersscreamed.“30,31,75,12!”Theybelteditoutlikeaquarterbackcallingaplay.“Whatdoyoumean?”Isaid.“Thatmakesnosense!”“30,31,75,12!”Angerwailed.“That’sallwecantellyou.Nowgiveustheeye!Almosttocamp!”Wewereoffthehighwaynow,zippingthroughthecountrysideofnorthernLongIsland.Icouldsee

Half-BloodHillaheadofus,withitsgiantpinetreeatthecrest—Thalia’stree,whichcontainedthelifeforceofafallenhero.

“Percy!”Annabethsaidmoreurgently.“Givethemtheeyenow!”Idecidednottoargue.IthrewtheeyeintoWasp’slap.Theoldladysnatcheditup,pusheditintohereyesocketlikesomebodyputtinginacontactlens,and

blinked.“Whoa!”Sheslammedonthebrakes.Thetaxispunfourorfivetimesinacloudofsmokeandsquealedtoa

haltinthemiddleofthefarmroadatthebaseofHalf-BloodHill.Tysonletlooseahugebelch.“Betternow.”“Allright,”ItoldtheGraySisters.“Nowtellmewhatthosenumbersmean.”“Notime!”Annabethopenedherdoor.“Wehavetogetoutnow.”

Iwasabouttoaskwhy,whenIlookedupatHalf-BloodHillandunderstood.Atthecrestofthehillwasagroupofcampers.Andtheywereunderattack.

FOUR

TYSONPLAYSWITHFIRE

Mythologicallyspeaking,ifthere’sanythingIhateworsethantriosofoldladies,it’sbulls.Lastsummer,IfoughttheMinotaurontopofHalf-BloodHill.ThistimewhatIsawuptherewasevenworse:twobulls.Andnotjustregularbulls—bronzeonesthesizeofelephants.Andeventhatwasn’tbadenough.Naturallytheyhadtobreathefire,too.

Assoonasweexitedthetaxi,theGraySisterspeeledout,headingbacktoNewYork,wherelifewassafer.Theydidn’tevenwaitfortheirextrathree-drachmapayment.Theyjustleftusonthesideoftheroad,Annabethwithnothingbutherbackpackandknife,Tysonandmestillinourburned-uptie-dyedgymclothes.

“Oh,man,”saidAnnabeth,lookingatthebattleragingonthehill.Whatworriedmemostweren’tthebullsthemselves.Orthetenheroesinfullbattlearmorwhowere

gettingtheirbronze-platedbootieswhooped.Whatworriedmewasthatthebullswererangingalloverthehill,evenaroundthebacksideofthepinetree.Thatshouldn’thavebeenpossible.Thecamp’smagicboundariesdidn’tallowmonsterstocrosspastThalia’stree.Butthemetalbullsweredoingitanyway.

Oneoftheheroesshouted,“Borderpatrol,tome!”Agirl’svoice—gruffandfamiliar.Borderpatrol?Ithought.Thecampdidn’thaveaborderpatrol.“It’sClarisse,”Annabethsaid.“Comeon,wehavetohelpher.”Normally,rushingtoClarisse’saidwouldnothavebeenhighonmy“todo”list.Shewasoneofthe

biggestbulliesatcamp.Thefirsttimewe’dmetshetriedtointroducemyheadtoatoilet.ShewasalsoadaughterofAres,andI’dhadaveryseriousdisagreementwithherfatherlastsummer,sonowthegodofwarandallhischildrenbasicallyhatedmyguts.

Still,shewasintrouble.Herfellowwarriorswerescattering,runninginpanicasthebullscharged.Thegrasswasburninginhugeswathesaroundthepinetree.Oneheroscreamedandwavedhisarmsasheranincircles,thehorsehairplumeonhishelmetblazinglikeafieryMohawk.Clarisse’sownarmorwascharred.Shewasfightingwithabrokenspearshaft,theotherendembeddeduselesslyinthemetaljointofonebull’sshoulder.

Iuncappedmyballpointpen.Itshimmered,growinglongerandheavieruntilIheldthebronzeswordAnaklusmosinmyhands.“Tyson,stayhere.Idon’twantyoutakinganymorechances.”

“No!”Annabethsaid.“Weneedhim.”Istaredather.“He’smortal.Hegotluckywiththedodgeballsbuthecan’t—”“Percy,doyouknowwhatthoseareupthere?TheColchisbulls,madebyHephaestushimself.We

can’tfightthemwithoutMedea’sSunscreenSPF50,000.We’llgetburnedtoacrisp.”“Medea’swhat?”Annabethrummagedthroughherbackpackandcursed.“Ihadajaroftropicalcoconutscentsitting

onmynight-standathome.Whydidn’tIbringit?”I’dlearnedalongtimeagonottoquestionAnnabethtoomuch.Itjustmadememoreconfused.

“Look,Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,butI’mnotgoingtoletTysongetfried.”

“Percy—”“Tyson,stayback.”Iraisedmysword.“I’mgoingin.”Tysontriedtoprotest,butIwasalreadyrunningupthehilltowardClarisse,whowasyellingather

patrol,tryingtogetthemintophalanxformation.Itwasagoodidea.Thefewwhowerelisteninglinedupshoulder-to-shoulder,lockingtheirshieldstoformanox-hide–and-bronzewall,theirspearsbristlingoverthetoplikeporcupinequills.

Unfortunately,Clarissecouldonlymustersixcampers.Theotherfourwerestillrunningaroundwiththeirhelmetsonfire.Annabethrantowardthem,tryingtohelp.Shetauntedoneofthebullsintochasingher,thenturnedinvisible,completelyconfusingthemonster.TheotherbullchargedClarisse’sline.

Iwashalfwayupthehill—notcloseenoughtohelp.Clarissehadn’tevenseenmeyet.Thebullmoveddeadlyfastforsomethingsobig.Itsmetalhidegleamedinthesun.Ithadfist-sized

rubiesforeyes,andhornsofpolishedsilver.Whenitopeneditshingedmouth,acolumnofwhite-hotflameblastedout.

“Holdtheline!”Clarisseorderedherwarriors.WhateverelseyoucouldsayaboutClarisse,shewasbrave.Shewasabiggirlwithcrueleyeslike

herfather’s.ShelookedlikeshewasborntowearGreekbattlearmor,butIdidn’tseehowevenshecouldstandagainstthatbull’scharge.

Unfortunately,atthatmoment,theotherbulllostinterestinfindingAnnabeth.Itturned,wheelingaroundbehindClarisseonherunprotectedside.

“Behindyou!”Iyelled.“Lookout!”Ishouldn’thavesaidanything,becauseallIdidwasstartleher.BullNumberOnecrashedintoher

shield,andthephalanxbroke.Clarissewentflyingbackwardandlandedinasmolderingpatchofgrass.Thebullchargedpasther,butnotbeforeblastingtheotherheroeswithitsfierybreath.Theirshieldsmeltedrightofftheirarms.TheydroppedtheirweaponsandranasBullNumberTwoclosedinonClarisseforthekill.

IlungedforwardandgrabbedClarissebythestrapsofherarmor.IdraggedheroutofthewayjustasBullNumberTwofreight-trainedpast.IgaveitagoodswipewithRiptideandcutahugegashinitsflank,butthemonsterjustcreakedandgroanedandkeptongoing.

Ithadn’ttouchedme,butIcouldfeeltheheatofitsmetalskin.Itsbodytemperaturecould’vemicrowavedafrozenburrito.

“Letmego!”Clarissepummeledmyhand.“Percy,curseyou!”Idroppedherinaheapnexttothepinetreeandturnedtofacethebulls.Wewereontheinsideslope

ofthehillnow,thevalleyofCampHalf-Blooddirectlybelowus—thecabins,thetrainingfacilities,theBigHouse—allofitatriskifthesebullsgotpastus.

Annabethshoutedorderstotheotherheroes,tellingthemtospreadoutandkeepthebullsdistracted.BullNumberOneranawidearc,makingitswaybacktowardme.Asitpassedthemiddleofthe

hill,wheretheinvisibleboundarylineshould’vekeptitout,itsloweddownalittle,asifitwerestrugglingagainstastrongwind;butthenitbrokethroughandkeptcoming.BullNumberTwoturnedtofaceme,firesputteringfromthegashI’dcutinitsside.Icouldn’ttellifitfeltanypain,butitsrubyeyesseemedtoglareatmelikeI’djustmadethingspersonal.

Icouldn’tfightbothbullsatthesametime.I’dhavetotakedownBullNumberTwofirst,cutitsheadoffbeforeBullNumberOnechargedbackintorange.Myarmsalreadyfelttired.IrealizedhowlongithadbeensinceI’dworkedoutwithRiptide,howoutofpracticeIwas.

IlungedbutBullNumberTwoblewflamesatme.Irolledasideastheairturnedtopureheat.Alltheoxygenwassuckedoutofmylungs.Myfootcaughtonsomething—atreeroot,maybe—andpainshotupmyankle.Still,Imanagedtoslashwithmyswordandlopoffpartofthemonster’ssnout.Itgallopedaway,wildanddisoriented.ButbeforeIcouldfeeltoogoodaboutthat,Itriedtostand,andmyleftlegbuckledunderneathme.Myanklewassprained,maybebroken.

BullNumberOnechargedstraighttowardme.NowaycouldIcrawloutofitspath.Annabethshouted:“Tyson,helphim!”Somewherenear,towardthecrestofthehill,Tysonwailed,“Can’t—get—through!”“I,AnnabethChase,giveyoupermissiontoentercamp!”Thundershookthehillside.SuddenlyTysonwasthere,barrelingtowardme,yelling:“Percyneeds

help!”BeforeIcouldtellhimno,hedovebetweenmeandthebulljustasitunleashedanuclearfirestorm.“Tyson!”Iyelled.Theblastswirledaroundhimlikearedtornado.Icouldonlyseetheblacksilhouetteofhisbody.I

knewwithhorriblecertaintythatmyfriendhadjustbeenturnedintoacolumnofashes.Butwhenthefiredied,Tysonwasstillstandingthere,completelyunharmed.Notevenhisgrungy

clotheswerescorched.Thebullmust’vebeenassurprisedasIwas,becausebeforeitcouldunleashasecondblast,Tysonballedhisfistsandslammedthemintothebull’sface.“BADCOW!”

Hisfistsmadeacraterwherethebronzebull’ssnoutusedtobe.Twosmallcolumnsofflameshotoutofitsears.Tysonhititagain,andthebronzecrumpledunderhishandslikealuminumfoil.Thebull’sfacenowlookedlikeasockpuppetpulledinsideout.

“Down!”Tysonyelled.Thebullstaggeredandfellonitsback.Itslegsmovedfeeblyintheair,steamcomingoutofits

ruinedheadinoddplaces.Annabethranovertocheckonme.Myanklefeltlikeitwasfilledwithacid,butshegavemesomeOlympiannectartodrinkfromher

canteen,andIimmediatelystartedtofeelbetter.TherewasaburningsmellthatIlaterlearnedwasme.Thehaironmyarmshadbeencompletelysingedoff.

“Theotherbull?”Iasked.Annabethpointeddownthehill.ClarissehadtakencareofBadCowNumberTwo.She’dimpaledit

throughthebacklegwithacelestialbronzespear.Now,withitssnouthalfgoneandahugegashinitsside,itwastryingtoruninslowmotion,goingincircleslikesomekindofmerry-goroundanimal.

Clarissepulledoffherhelmetandmarchedtowardus.Astrandofherstringybrownhairwassmoldering,butshedidn’tseemtonotice.“You—ruin—everything!”sheyelledatme.“Ihaditundercontrol!”

Iwastoostunnedtoanswer.Annabethgrumbled,“Goodtoseeyoutoo,Clarisse.”“Argh!”Clarissescreamed.“Don’tever,EVERtrysavingmeagain!”“Clarisse,”Annabethsaid,“you’vegotwoundedcampers.”Thatsoberedherup.EvenClarissecaredaboutthesoldiersunderhercommand.“I’llbeback,”shegrowled,thentrudgedofftoassessthedamage.IstaredatTyson.“Youdidn’tdie.”Tysonlookeddownlikehewasembarrassed.“Iamsorry.Cametohelp.Disobeyedyou.”

“Myfault,”Annabethsaid.“Ihadnochoice.IhadtoletTysoncrosstheboundarylinetosaveyou.Otherwise,youwould’vedied.”

“Lethimcrosstheboundaryline?’”Iasked.“But—”“Percy,”shesaid,“haveyoueverlookedatTysonclosely?Imean...intheface.IgnoretheMist,

andreallylookathim.”TheMistmakeshumansseeonlywhattheirbrainscanprocess...Iknewitcouldfooldemigods

too,but...IlookedTysonintheface.Itwasn’teasy.I’dalwayshadtroublelookingdirectlyathim,thoughI’d

neverquiteunderstoodwhy.I’dthoughtitwasjustbecausehealwayshadpeanutbutterinhiscrookedteeth.Iforcedmyselftofocusathisbiglumpynose,thenalittlehigherathiseyes.

No,noteyes.Oneeye.Onelarge,calf-browneye,rightinthemiddleofhisforehead,withthicklashesandbig

tearstricklingdownhischeeksoneitherside.“Tyson,”Istammered.“You’rea...”“Cyclops,”Annabethoffered.“Ababy,bythelooksofhim.Probablywhyhecouldn’tgetpastthe

boundarylineaseasilyasthebulls.Tyson’soneofthehomelessorphans.”“Oneofthewhat?”“They’reinalmostallthebigcities,”Annabethsaiddistastefully.“They’re...mistakes,Percy.

Childrenofnaturespiritsandgods...Well,onegodinparticular,usually...andtheydon’talwayscomeoutright.Noonewantsthem.Theygettossedaside.Theygrowupwildonthestreets.Idon’tknowhowthisonefoundyou,butheobviouslylikesyou.WeshouldtakehimtoChiron,lethimdecidewhattodo.”

“Butthefire.How—”“He’saCyclops.”Annabethpaused,asifshewererememberingsomethingunpleasant.“Theywork

theforgesofthegods.Theyhavetobeimmunetofire.That’swhatIwastryingtotellyou.”Iwascompletelyshocked.HowhadIneverrealizedwhatTysonwas?ButIdidn’thavemuchtimetothinkaboutitjustthen.Thewholesideofthehillwasburning.

Woundedheroesneededattention.Andtherewerestilltwobanged-upbronzebullstodisposeof,whichIdidn’tfigurewouldfitinournormalrecyclingbins.

Clarissecamebackoverandwipedthesootoffherforehead.“Jackson,ifyoucanstand,getup.WeneedtocarrythewoundedbacktotheBigHouse,letTantalusknowwhat’shappened.”

“Tantalus?”Iasked.“Theactivitiesdirector,”Clarissesaidimpatiently.“Chironistheactivitiesdirector.Andwhere’sArgus?He’sheadofsecurity.Heshouldbehere.”Clarissemadeasourface.“Argusgotfired.Youtwohavebeengonetoolong.Thingsarechanging.”“ButChiron...He’strainedkidstofightmonstersforoverthreethousandyears.Hecan’tjustbe

gone.Whathappened?”“Thathappened,”Clarissesnapped.ShepointedtoThalia’stree.Everycamperknewthestorybehindthetree.Sixyearsago,Grover,Annabeth,andtwoother

demigodsnamedThaliaandLukehadcometoCampHalf-Bloodchasedbyanarmyofmonsters.Whentheygotcorneredontopofthishill,Thalia,adaughterofZeus,hadmadeherlaststandheretogiveher

friendstimetoreachsafety.Asshewasdying,herfather,Zeus,tookpityonherandchangedherintoapinetree.Herspirithadreinforcedthemagicbordersofthecamp,protectingitfrommonsters.Thepinehadbeenhereeversince,strongandhealthy.

Butnow,itsneedleswereyellow.Ahugepileofdeadoneslitteredthebaseofthetree.Inthecenterofthetrunk,threefeetfromtheground,wasapuncturemarkthesizeofabullethole,oozinggreensap.

Asliveroficeranthroughmychest.NowIunderstoodwhythecampwasindanger.ThemagicalborderswerefailingbecauseThalia’streewasdying.

Someonehadpoisonedit.

FIVE

IGETANEWCABINMATE

Evercomehomeandfoundyourroommessedup?Likesomehelpfulperson(hi,Mom)hastriedto“clean”it,andsuddenlyyoucan’tfindanything?Andevenifnothingismissing,yougetthatcreepyfeelinglikesomebody’sbeenlookingthroughyourprivatestuffanddustingeverythingwithlemonfurniturepolish?

That’skindofthewayIfeltseeingCampHalf-Bloodagain.Onthesurface,thingsdidn’tlookallthatdifferent.TheBigHousewasstilltherewithitsblue

gabledroofanditswraparoundporch.Thestrawberryfieldsstillbakedinthesun.Thesamewhite-columnedGreekbuildingswerescatteredaroundthevalley—theamphitheater,thecombatarena,thediningpavilionoverlookingLongIslandSound.Andnestledbetweenthewoodsandthecreekwerethesamecabins—acrazyassortmentoftwelvebuildings,eachrepresentingadifferentOlympiangod.

Buttherewasanairofdangernow.Youcouldtellsomethingwaswrong.Insteadofplayingvolleyballinthesandpit,counselorsandsatyrswerestockpilingweaponsinthetoolshed.Dryadsarmedwithbowsandarrowstalkednervouslyattheedgeofthewoods.Theforestlookedsickly,thegrassinthemeadowwaspaleyellow,andthefiremarksonHalf-BloodHillstoodoutlikeuglyscars.

Somebodyhadmessedwithmyfavoriteplaceintheworld,andIwasnot...well,ahappycamper.AswemadeourwaytotheBigHouse,Irecognizedalotofkidsfromlastsummer.Nobodystopped

totalk.Nobodysaid,“Welcomeback.”SomediddoubletakeswhentheysawTyson,butmostjustwalkedgrimlypastandcarriedonwiththeirduties—runningmessages,totingswordstosharpenonthegrindingwheels.Thecampfeltlikeamilitaryschool.Andbelieveme,Iknow.I’vebeenkickedoutofacouple.

NoneofthatmatteredtoTyson.Hewasabsolutelyfascinatedbyeverythinghesaw.“Whasthat!”hegasped.

“Thestablesforpegasi,”Isaid.“Thewingedhorses.”“Whasthat!”“Um...thosearethetoilets.”“Whasthat!”“Thecabinsforthecampers.Iftheydon’tknowwhoyourOlympianparentis,theyputyouinthe

Hermescabin—thatbrownoneoverthere—untilyou’redetermined.Then,oncetheyknow,theyputyouinyourdadormom’sgroup.”

Helookedatmeinawe.“You...haveacabin?”“Numberthree.”Ipointedtoalowgraybuildingmadeofseastone.“Youlivewithfriendsinthecabin?”“No.No,justme.”Ididn’tfeellikeexplaining.Theembarrassingtruth:Iwastheonlyonewho

stayedinthatcabinbecauseIwasn’tsupposedtobealive.The“BigThree”gods—Zeus,Poseidon,andHades—hadmadeapactafterWorldWarIInottohaveanymorechildrenwithmortals.Weweremorepowerfulthanregularhalf-bloods.Weweretoounpredictable.Whenwegotmadwetendedtocause

problems...likeWorldWarII,forinstance.The“BigThree”pacthadonlybeenbrokentwice—oncewhenZeussiredThalia,oncewhenPoseidonsiredme.Neitherofusshould’vebeenborn.

Thaliahadgottenherselfturnedintoapinetreewhenshewastwelve.Me...well,Iwasdoingmybestnottofollowherexample.IhadnightmaresaboutwhatPoseidonmightturnmeintoifIwereeveronthevergeofdeath—plankton,maybe.Orafloatingpatchofkelp.

WhenwegottotheBigHouse,wefoundChironinhisapartment,listeningtohisfavorite1960sloungemusicwhilehepackedhissaddlebags.IguessIshouldmention—Chironisacentaur.Fromthewaistuphelookslikearegularmiddle-agedguywithcurlybrownhairandascragglybeard.Fromthewaistdown,he’sawhitestallion.Hecanpassforhumanbycompactinghislowerhalfintoamagicwheelchair.Infact,he’dpassedhimselfoffasmyLatinteacherduringmysixth-gradeyear.Butmostofthetime,iftheceilingsarehighenough,heprefershangingoutinfullcentaurform.

Assoonaswesawhim,Tysonfroze.“Pony!”hecriedintotalrapture.Chironturned,lookingoffended.“Ibegyourpardon?”Annabethranupandhuggedhim.“Chiron,what’shappening?You’renot...leaving?”Hervoice

wasshaky.Chironwaslikeasecondfathertoher.Chironruffledherhairandgaveherakindlysmile.“Hello,child.AndPercy,mygoodness.You’ve

grownovertheyear!”Iswallowed.“Clarissesaidyouwere...youwere...”“Fired.”Chiron’seyesglintedwithdarkhumor.“Ah,well,someonehadtotaketheblame.Lord

Zeuswasmostupset.Thetreehe’dcreatedfromthespiritofhisdaughter,poisoned!Mr.Dhadtopunishsomeone.”

“Besideshimself,youmean,”Igrowled.Justthethoughtofthecampdirector,Mr.D,mademeangry.“Butthisiscrazy!”Annabethcried.“Chiron,youcouldn’thavehadanythingtodowithpoisoning

Thalia’stree!”“Nevertheless,”Chironsighed,“someinOlympusdonottrustmenow,underthecircumstances.”“Whatcircumstances?”Iasked.Chiron’sfacedarkened.HestuffedaLatin-EnglishdictionaryintohissaddlebagwhiletheFrank

Sinatramusicoozedfromhisboombox.TysonwasstillstaringatChironinamazement.HewhimperedlikehewantedtopatChiron’sflank

butwasafraidtocomecloser.“Pony?”Chironsniffed.“MydearyoungCyclops!Iamacentaur.”“Chiron,”Isaid.“Whataboutthetree?Whathappened?”Heshookhisheadsadly.“ThepoisonusedonThalia’spineissomethingfromtheUnderworld,

Percy.SomevenomevenIhaveneverseen.ItmusthavecomefromamonsterquitedeepinthepitsofTartarus.”

“Thenweknowwho’sresponsible.Kro—”“Donotinvokethetitanlord’sname,Percy.Especiallynothere,notnow.”“ButlastsummerhetriedtocauseacivilwarinOlympus!Thishastobehisidea.He’dgetLuketo

doit,thattraitor.”“Perhaps,”Chironsaid.“ButIfearIambeingheldresponsiblebecauseIdidnotpreventitandI

cannotcureit.Thetreehasonlyafewweeksoflifeleftunless...”“Unlesswhat?”Annabethasked.

“No,”Chironsaid.“Afoolishthought.Thewholevalleyisfeelingtheshockofthepoison.Themagicalbordersaredeteriorating.Thecampitselfisdying.Onlyonesourceofmagicwouldbestrongenoughtoreversethepoison,anditwaslostcenturiesago.”

“Whatisit?”Iasked.“We’llgofindit!”Chironclosedhissaddlebag.Hepressedthestopbuttononhisboombox.Thenheturnedandrested

hishandonmyshoulder,lookingmestraightintheeyes.“Percy,youmustpromisemethatyouwillnotactrashly.ItoldyourmotherIdidnotwantyoutocomehereatallthissummer.It’smuchtoodangerous.Butnowthatyouarehere,stayhere.Trainhard.Learntofight.Butdonotleave.”

“Why?”Iasked.“Iwanttodosomething!Ican’tjustletthebordersfail.Thewholecampwillbe—”

“Overrunbymonsters,”Chironsaid.“Yes,Ifearso.Butyoumustnotletyourselfbebaitedintohastyaction!Thiscouldbeatrapofthetitanlord.Rememberlastsummer!Healmosttookyourlife.”

Itwastrue,butstill,Iwantedtohelpsobadly.IalsowantedtomakeKronospay.Imean,you’dthinkthetitanlordwould’velearnedhislessoneonsagowhenhewasoverthrownbythegods.You’dthinkgettingchoppedintoamillionpiecesandcastintothedarkestpartoftheUnderworldwouldgivehimasubtlecluethatnobodywantedhimaround.Butno.Becausehewasimmortal,hewasstillalivedownthereinTartarus—sufferingineternalpain,hungeringtoreturnandtakerevengeonOlympus.Hecouldn’tactonhisown,buthewasgreatattwistingthemindsofmortalsandevengodstodohisdirtywork.

Thepoisoninghadtobehisdoing.WhoelsewouldbesolowastoattackThalia’stree,theonlythingleftofaherowho’dgivenherlifetosaveherfriends?

Annabethwastryinghardnottocry.Chironbrushedatearfromhercheek.“StaywithPercy,child,”hetoldher.“Keephimsafe.Theprophecy—rememberit!”

“I—Iwill.”“Um...”Isaid.“Wouldthisbethesuper-dangerousprophecythathasmeinit,butthegodshave

forbiddenyoutotellmeabout?”Nobodyanswered.“Right,”Imuttered.“Justchecking.”“Chiron...”Annabethsaid.“Youtoldmethegodsmadeyouimmortalonlysolongasyouwere

neededtotrainheroes.Iftheydismissyoufromcamp—”“SwearyouwilldoyourbesttokeepPercyfromdanger,”heinsisted.“SwearupontheRiverStyx.”“I—IswearitupontheRiverStyx,”Annabethsaid.Thunderrumbledoutside.“Verywell,”Chironsaid.Heseemedtorelaxjustalittle.“PerhapsmynamewillbeclearedandI

shallreturn.Untilthen,IgotovisitmywildkinsmenintheEverglades.It’spossibletheyknowofsomecureforthepoisonedtreethatIhaveforgotten.Inanyevent,Iwillstayinexileuntilthismatterisresolved...onewayoranother.”

Annabethstifledasob.Chironpattedhershoulderawkwardly.“There,now,child.ImustentrustyoursafetytoMr.Dandthenewactivitiesdirector.Wemusthope...well,perhapstheywon’tdestroythecampquiteasquicklyasIfear.”

“WhoisthisTantalusguy,anyway?”Idemanded.“Wheredoeshegetofftakingyourjob?”Aconchhornblewacrossthevalley.Ihadn’trealizedhowlateitwas.Itwastimeforthecampersto

assemblefordinner.

“Go,”Chironsaid.“Youwillmeethimatthepavilion.Iwillcontactyourmother,Percy,andletherknowyou’resafe.Nodoubtshe’llbeworriedbynow.Justremembermywarning!Youareingravedanger.Donotthinkforamomentthatthetitanlordhasforgottenyou!”

Withthat,hecloppedoutoftheapartmentanddownthehall,Tysoncallingafterhim,“Pony!Don’tgo!”

IrealizedI’dforgottentotellChironaboutmydreamofGrover.Nowitwastoolate.ThebestteacherI’deverhadwasgone,maybeforgood.

TysonstartedbawlingalmostasbadasAnnabeth.Itriedtotellthemthatthingswouldbeokay,butIdidn’tbelieveit.

Thesunwassettingbehindthediningpavilionasthecamperscameupfromtheircabins.Westoodintheshadowofamarblecolumnandwatchedthemfilein.Annabethwasstillprettyshakenup,butshepromisedshe’dtalktouslater.ThenshewentofftojoinhersiblingsfromtheAthenacabin—adozenboysandgirlswithblondhairandgrayeyeslikehers.Annabethwasn’ttheoldest,butshe’dbeenatcampmoresummersthanjustaboutanybody.Youcouldtellthatbylookingathercampnecklace—onebeadforeverysummer,andAnnabethhadsix.Noonequestionedherrighttoleadtheline.

NextcameClarisse,leadingtheArescabin.Shehadonearminaslingandanasty-lookinggashonhercheek,butotherwiseherencounterwiththebronzebullsdidn’tseemtohavefazedher.Someonehadtapedapieceofpapertoherbackthatsaid,YOUMOO,GIRL!Butnobodyinhercabinwasbotheringtotellheraboutit.

AftertheAreskidscametheHephaestuscabin—sixguysledbyCharlesBeckendorf,abigfifteen-year-oldAfricanAmericankid.Hehadhandsthesizeofcatchers’mittsandafacethatwashardandsquintyfromlookingintoablacksmith’sforgeallday.Hewasniceenoughonceyougottoknowhim,butnooneevercalledhimCharlieorChuckorCharles.MostjustcalledhimBeckendorf.Rumorwashecouldmakeanything.Givehimachunkofmetalandhecouldcreatearazor-sharpswordoraroboticwarriororasingingbirdbathforyourgrandmother’sgarden.Whateveryouwanted.

Theothercabinsfiledin:Demeter,Apollo,Aphrodite,Dionysus.Naiadscameupfromthecanoelake.Dryadsmeltedoutofthetrees.Fromthemeadowcameadozensatyrs,whoremindedmepainfullyofGrover.

I’dalwayshadasoftspotforthesatyrs.Whentheywereatcamp,theyhadtodoallkindsofoddjobsforMr.D,thedirector,buttheirmostimportantworkwasoutintherealworld.Theywerethecamp’sseekers.Theywentundercoverintoschoolsallovertheworld,lookingforpotentialhalf-bloodsandescortingthembacktocamp.That’showI’dmetGrover.HehadbeenthefirstonetorecognizeIwasademigod.

Afterthesatyrsfiledintodinner,theHermescabinbroughtuptherear.Theywerealwaysthebiggestcabin.Lastsummer,ithadbeenledbyLuke,theguywho’dfoughtwithThaliaandAnnabethontopofHalf-BloodHill.Forawhile,beforePoseidonhadclaimedme,I’dlodgedintheHermescabin.Lukehadbefriendedme...andthenhe’dtriedtokillme.

NowtheHermescabinwasledbyTravisandConnorStoll.Theyweren’ttwins,buttheylookedsomuchalikeitdidn’tmatter.Icouldneverrememberwhichonewasolder.Theywerebothtallandskinny,withmopsofbrownhairthathungintheireyes.TheyworeorangeCAMPHALFBLOODT-shirtsuntuckedoverbaggyshorts,andtheyhadthoseelfishfeaturesallHermes’skidshad:upturnedeyebrows,sarcasticsmiles,agleamintheireyeswhenevertheylookedatyou—liketheywereabouttodropafirecrackerdownyourshirt.I’dalwaysthoughtitwasfunnythatthegodofthieveswouldhavekidswiththelastname“Stoll,”buttheonlytimeImentionedittoTravisandConnor,theybothstaredatmeblankly

liketheydidn’tgetthejoke.Assoonasthelastcampershadfiledin,IledTysonintothemiddleofthepavilion.Conversations

faltered.Headsturned.“Whoinvitedthat?”somebodyattheApollotablemurmured.Iglaredintheirdirection,butIcouldn’tfigureoutwho’dspoken.Fromtheheadtableafamiliarvoicedrawled,“Well,well,ifitisn’tPeterJohnson.Mymillennium

iscomplete.”Igrittedmyteeth.“PercyJackson...sir.”Mr.DsippedhisDietCoke.“Yes.Well,asyouyoungpeoplesaythesedays:Whatever.”Hewaswearinghisusualleopard-patternHawaiianshirt,walkingshorts,andtennisshoeswith

blacksocks.Withhispudgybellyandhisblotchyredface,helookedlikeaLasVegastouristwho’dstayeduptoolateinthecasinos.Behindhim,anervous-lookingsatyrwaspeelingtheskinsoffgrapesandhandingthemtoMr.Doneatatime.

Mr.D’srealnameisDionysus.Thegodofwine.ZeusappointedhimdirectorofCampHalf-Bloodtodryoutforahundredyears—apunishmentforchasingsomeoff-limitswoodnymph.

Nexttohim,whereChironusuallysat(orstood,incentaurform),wassomeoneI’dneverseenbefore—apale,horriblythinmaninathreadbareorangeprisoner’sjumpsuit.Thenumberoverhispocketread0001.Hehadblueshadowsunderhiseyes,dirtyfingernails,andbadlycutgrayhair,likehislasthaircuthadbeendonewithaweedwhacker.Hestaredatme;hiseyesmademenervous.Helooked...fractured.Angryandfrustratedandhungryallatthesametime.

“Thisboy,”Dionysustoldhim,“youneedtowatch.Poseidon’schild,youknow.”“Ah!”theprisonersaid.“Thatone.”HistonemadeitobviousthatheandDionysushadalreadydiscussedmeatlength.“IamTantalus,”theprisonersaid,smilingcoldly.“Onspecialassignmenthereuntil,well,untilmy

LordDionysusdecidesotherwise.Andyou,PerseusJackson,Idoexpectyoutorefrainfromcausinganymoretrouble.”

“Trouble?”Idemanded.Dionysussnappedhisfingers.Anewspaperappearedonthetable—thefrontpageoftoday’sNew

YorkPost.TherewasmyyearbookpicturefromMeriwetherPrep.Itwashardformetomakeouttheheadline,butIhadaprettygoodguesswhatitsaid.Somethinglike:Thirteen-Year-OldLunaticTorchesGymnasium.

“Yes,trouble,”Tantalussaidwithsatisfaction.“Youcausedplentyofitlastsummer,Iunderstand.”Iwastoomadtospeak.Likeitwasmyfaultthegodshadalmostgottenintoacivilwar?AsatyrinchedforwardnervouslyandsetaplateofbarbecueinfrontofTantalus.Thenewactivities

directorlickedhislips.Helookedathisemptygobletandsaid,“Rootbeer.Barq’sspecialstock.1967.”Theglassfilleditselfwithfoamysoda.Tantalusstretchedouthishandhesitantly,asifhewere

afraidthegobletwashot.“Goon,then,oldfellow,”Dionysussaid,astrangesparkleinhiseyes.“Perhapsnowitwillwork.”Tantalusgrabbedfortheglass,butitscootedawaybeforehecouldtouchit.Afewdropsofrootbeer

spilled,andTantalustriedtodabthemupwithhisfingers,butthedropsrolledawaylikequicksilverbeforehecouldtouchthem.Hegrowledandturnedtowardtheplateofbarbecue.Hepickedupaforkandtriedtostabapieceofbrisket,buttheplateskittereddownthetableandflewofftheend,straightintothecoalsofthebrazier.

“Blast!”Tantalusmuttered.“Ah,well,”Dionysussaid,hisvoicedrippingwithfalsesympathy.“Perhapsafewmoredays.

Believeme,oldchap,workingatthiscampwillbetortureenough.I’msureyouroldcursewillfadeeventually.”

“Eventually,”mutteredTantalus,staringatDionysus’sDietCoke.“Doyouhaveanyideahowdryone’sthroatgetsafterthreethousandyears?”

“You’rethatspiritfromtheFieldsofPunishment,”Isaid.“Theonewhostandsinthelakewiththefruittreehangingoveryou,butyoucan’teatordrink.”

Tantalussneeredatme.“Arealscholar,aren’tyou,boy?”“Youmust’vedonesomethingreallyhorriblewhenyouwerealive,”Isaid,mildlyimpressed.“What

wasit?”Tantalus’seyesnarrowed.Behindhim,thesatyrswereshakingtheirheadsvigorously,tryingtowarn

me.“I’llbewatchingyou,PercyJackson,”Tantalussaid.“Idon’twantanyproblemsatmycamp.”“Yourcamphasproblemsalready...sir.”“Oh,gositdown,Johnson,”Dionysussighed.“Ibelievethattableoverthereisyours—theone

wherenooneelseeverwantstosit.”Myfacewasburning,butIknewbetterthantotalkback.Dionysuswasanovergrownbrat,buthe

wasanimmortal,superpowerfulovergrownbrat.Isaid,“Comeon,Tyson.”“Oh,no,”Tantalussaid.“Themonsterstayshere.Wemustdecidewhattodowithit.”“Him,”Isnapped.“HisnameisTyson.”Thenewactivitiesdirectorraisedaneyebrow.“Tysonsavedthecamp,”Iinsisted.“Hepoundedthosebronzebulls.Otherwisetheywould’ve

burneddownthiswholeplace.”“Yes,”Tantalussighed,“andwhatapitythatwould’vebeen.”Dionysussnickered.“Leaveus,”Tantalusordered,“whilewedecidethiscreature’sfate.”Tysonlookedatmewithfearinhisonebigeye,butIknewIcouldn’tdisobeyadirectorderfromthe

campdirectors.Notopenly,anyway.“I’llberightoverhere,bigguy,”Ipromised.“Don’tworry.We’llfindyouagoodplacetosleep

tonight.”Tysonnodded.“Ibelieveyou.Youaremyfriend.”Whichmademefeelawholelotguiltier.ItrudgedovertothePoseidontableandslumpedontothebench.Awoodnymphbroughtmeaplate

ofOlympianolive-and-pepperonipizza,butIwasn’thungry.I’dbeenalmostkilledtwicetoday.I’dmanagedtoendmyschoolyearwithacompletedisaster.CampHalf-BloodwasinserioustroubleandChironhadtoldmenottodoanythingaboutit.

Ididn’tfeelverythankful,butItookmydinner,aswascustomary,uptothebronzebrazierandscrapedpartofitintotheflames.

“Poseidon,”Imurmured,“acceptmyoffering.”Andsendmesomehelpwhileyou’reatit,Iprayedsilently.Please.

Thesmokefromtheburningpizzachangedintosomethingfragrant—thesmellofacleanseabreezewithwildflowersmixedin—butIhadnoideaifthatmeantmyfatherwasreallylistening.

Iwentbacktomyseat.Ididn’tthinkthingscouldgetmuchworse.ButthenTantalushadoneofthesatyrsblowtheconchhorntogetourattentionforannouncements.

“Yes,well,”Tantalussaid,oncethetalkinghaddieddown.“Anotherfinemeal!OrsoIamtold.”Ashespoke,heinchedhishandtowardhisrefilleddinnerplate,asifmaybethefoodwouldn’tnoticewhathewasdoing,butitdid.Itshotawaydownthetableassoonashegotwithinsixinches.

“Andhereonmyfirstdayofauthority,”hecontinued,“I’dliketosaywhatapleasantformofpunishmentitistobehere.Overthecourseofthesummer,Ihopetotorture,er,interactwitheachandeveryoneofyouchildren.Youalllookgoodenoughtoeat.”

Dionysusclappedpolitely,leadingtosomehalfheartedapplausefromthesatyrs.Tysonwasstillstandingattheheadtable,lookinguncomfortable,buteverytimehetriedtoscootoutofthelimelight,Tantaluspulledhimback.

“Andnowsomechanges!”Tantalusgavethecampersacrookedsmile.“Wearereinstitutingthechariotraces!”

Murmuringbrokeoutatallthetables—excitement,fear,disbelief.“NowIknow,”Tantaluscontinued,raisinghisvoice,“thattheseraceswerediscontinuedsomeyears

agodueto,ah,technicalproblems.”“Threedeathsandtwenty-sixmutilations,”someoneattheApollotablecalled.“Yes,yes!”Tantalussaid.“ButIknowthatyouwillalljoinmeinwelcomingthereturnofthiscamp

tradition.Goldenlaurelswillgotothewinningcharioteerseachmonth.Teamsmayregisterinthemorning!Thefirstracewillbeheldinthreedaystime.Wewillreleaseyoufrommostofyourregularactivitiestoprepareyourchariotsandchooseyourhorses.Oh,anddidImention,thevictoriousteam’scabinwillhavenochoresforthemonthinwhichtheywin?”

Anexplosionofexcitedconversation—noKPforawholemonth?Nostablecleaning?Washeserious?

ThenthelastpersonIexpectedtoobjectdidso.“But,sir!”Clarissesaid.Shelookednervous,butshestooduptospeakfromtheArestable.Someof

thecamperssnickeredwhentheysawtheYOUMOO,GIRL!signonherback.“Whataboutpatrolduty?Imean,ifwedropeverythingtoreadyourchariots—”

“Ah,theherooftheday,”Tantalusexclaimed.“BraveClarisse,whosingle-handedlybestedthebronzebulls!”

Clarisseblinked,thenblushed.“Um,Ididn’t—”“Andmodest,too.”Tantalusgrinned.“Nottoworry,mydear!Thisisasummercamp.Wearehereto

enjoyourselves,yes?”“Butthetree—”“Andnow,”Tantalussaid,asseveralofClarisse’scabinmatespulledherbackintoherseat,“before

weproceedtothecampfireandsing-along,oneslighthousekeepingissue.PercyJacksonandAnnabethChasehaveseenfit,forsomereason,tobringthishere.”TantaluswavedahandtowardTyson.

Uneasymurmuringspreadamongthecampers.Alotofsidewayslooksatme.IwantedtokillTantalus.

“Now,ofcourse,”hesaid,“Cyclopeshaveareputationforbeingbloodthirstymonsterswithavery

smallbraincapacity.Undernormalcircumstances,Iwouldreleasethisbeastintothewoodsandhaveyouhuntitdownwithtorchesandpointedsticks.Butwhoknows?PerhapsthisCyclopsisnotashorribleasmostofitsbrethren.Untilitprovesworthyofdestruction,weneedaplacetokeepit!I’vethoughtaboutthestables,butthatwillmakethehorsesnervous.Hermes’scabin,possibly?”

SilenceattheHermestable.TravisandConnorStolldevelopedasuddeninterestinthetablecloth.Icouldn’tblamethem.TheHermescabinwasalwaysfulltobursting.Therewasnowaytheycouldtakeinasix-foot-threeCyclops.

“Comenow,”Tantaluschided.“Themonstermaybeabletodosomemenialchores.Anysuggestionsastowheresuchabeastshouldbekenneled?”

Suddenlyeverybodygasped.TantalusscootedawayfromTysoninsurprise.AllIcoulddowasstareindisbeliefatthebrilliant

greenlightthatwasabouttochangemylife—adazzlingholographicimagethathadappearedaboveTyson’shead.

Withasickeningtwistinmystomach,IrememberedwhatAnnabethhadsaidaboutCyclopes,They’rethechildrenofnaturespiritsandgods...Well,onegodinparticular,usually...

SwirlingoverTysonwasaglowinggreentrident—thesamesymbolthathadappearedabovemethedayPoseidonhadclaimedmeashisson.

Therewasamomentofawedsilence.Beingclaimedwasarareevent.Somecamperswaitedinvainforittheirwholelives.WhenI’d

beenclaimedbyPoseidonlastsummer,everyonehadreverentlyknelt.Butnow,theyfollowedTantalus’slead,andTantalusroaredwithlaughter.“Well!Ithinkweknowwheretoputthebeastnow.Bythegods,Icanseethefamilyresemblance!”

EverybodylaughedexceptAnnabethandafewofmyotherfriends.Tysondidn’tseemtonotice.Hewastoomystified,tryingtoswattheglowingtridentthatwasnow

fadingoverhishead.Hewastooinnocenttounderstandhowmuchtheyweremakingfunofhim,howcruelpeoplewere.

ButIgotit.Ihadanewcabinmate.Ihadamonsterforahalf-brother.

SIX

DEMONPIGEONSATTACK

Thenextfewdaysweretorture,justlikeTantaluswanted.FirsttherewasTysonmovingintothePoseidoncabin,gigglingtohimselfeveryfifteensecondsand

saying,“Percyismybrother?”likehe’djustwonthelottery.“Aw,Tyson,”I’dsay.“It’snotthatsimple.”Buttherewasnoexplainingittohim.Hewasinheaven.Andme...asmuchasIlikedthebigguy,I

couldn’thelpfeelingembarrassed.Ashamed.There,Isaidit.Myfather,theall-powerfulPoseidon,hadgottenmoony-eyedforsomenaturespirit,andTysonhad

beentheresult.Imean,I’dreadthemythsaboutCyclopes.IevenrememberedthattheywereoftenPoseidon’schildren.ButI’dneverreallyprocessedthatthismadethemmy...family.UntilIhadTysonlivingwithmeinthenextbunk.

Andthentherewerethecommentsfromtheothercampers.Suddenly,Iwasn’tPercyJackson,thecoolguywho’dretrievedZeus’slightningboltlastsummer.NowIwasPercyJackson,thepoorschmuckwiththeuglymonsterforabrother.

“He’snotmyrealbrother!”IprotestedwheneverTysonwasn’taround.“He’smorelikeahalf-brotheronthemonstroussideofthefamily.Like...ahalf-brothertwiceremoved,orsomething.”

Nobodyboughtit.Iadmit—Iwasangryatmydad.Ifeltlikebeinghissonwasnowajoke.Annabethtriedtomakemefeelbetter.Shesuggestedweteamupforthechariotracetotakeour

mindsoffourproblems.Don’tgetmewrong—webothhatedTantalusandwewereworriedsickaboutcamp—butwedidn’tknowwhattodoaboutit.UntilwecouldcomeupwithsomebrilliantplantosaveThalia’stree,wefiguredwemightaswellgoalongwiththeraces.Afterall,Annabeth’smom,Athena,hadinventedthechariot,andmydadhadcreatedhorses.Togetherwewouldownthattrack.

OnemorningAnnabethandIweresittingbythecanoelakesketchingchariotdesignswhensomejokersfromAphrodite’scabinwalkedbyandaskedmeifIneededtoborrowsomeeyelinerformyeye...“Ohsorry,eyes.”

Astheywalkedawaylaughing,Annabethgrumbled,“Justignorethem,Percy.Itisn’tyourfaultyouhaveamonsterforabrother.”

“He’snotmybrother!”Isnapped.“Andhe’snotamonster,either!”Annabethraisedhereyebrows.“Hey,don’tgetmadatme!Andtechnically,heisamonster.”“Wellyougavehimpermissiontoenterthecamp.”“Becauseitwastheonlywaytosaveyourlife!Imean...I’msorry,Percy,Ididn’texpectPoseidon

toclaimhim.Cyclopesarethemostdeceitful,treacherous—”“Heisnot!WhathaveyougotagainstCyclopes,anyway?”Annabeth’searsturnedpink.Igotthefeelingtherewassomethingshewasn’ttellingme—something

bad.“Justforgetit,”shesaid.“Now,theaxleforthischariot—”“You’retreatinghimlikehe’sthishorriblething,”Isaid.“Hesavedmylife.”Annabeththrewdownherpencilandstood.“Thenmaybeyoushoulddesignachariotwithhim.”“MaybeIshould.”“Fine!”“Fine!”Shestormedoffandleftmefeelingevenworsethanbefore.

Thenextcoupleofdays,Itriedtokeepmymindoffmyproblems.SilenaBeauregard,oneofthenicergirlsfromAphrodite’scabin,gavememyfirstridinglessonona

pegasus.SheexplainedthattherewasonlyoneimmortalwingedhorsenamedPegasus,whostillwanderedfreesomewhereintheskies,butovertheeonshe’dsiredalotofchildren,nonequitesofastorheroic,butallnamedafterthefirstandgreatest.

Beingthesonoftheseagod,Ineverlikedgoingintotheair.MydadhadthisrivalrywithZeus,soItriedtostayoutofthelordofthesky’sdomainasmuchaspossible.Butridingawingedhorsefeltdifferent.Itdidn’tmakemenearlyasnervousasbeinginanairplane.Maybethatwasbecausemydadhadcreatedhorsesoutofseafoam,sothepegasiweresortof...neutralterritory.Icouldunderstandtheirthoughts.Iwasn’tsurprisedwhenmypegasuswentgallopingoverthetreetopsorchasedaflockofseagullsintoacloud.

TheproblemwasthatTysonwantedtoridethe“chickenponies,”too,butthepegasigotskittishwheneverheapproached.ItoldthemtelepathicallythatTysonwouldn’thurtthem,buttheydidn’tseemtobelieveme.ThatmadeTysoncry.

TheonlypersonatcampwhohadnoproblemwithTysonwasBeckendorffromtheHephaestuscabin.TheblacksmithgodhadalwaysworkedwithCyclopesinhisforges,soBeckendorftookTysondowntothearmorytoteachhimmetalworking.Hesaidhe’dhaveTysoncraftingmagicitemslikeamasterinnotime.

Afterlunch,IworkedoutinthearenawithApollo’scabin.Swordplayhadalwaysbeenmystrength.PeoplesaidIwasbetteratitthananycamperinthelasthundredyears,exceptmaybeLuke.PeoplealwayscomparedmetoLuke.

IthrashedtheApolloguyseasily.Ishould’vebeentestingmyselfagainsttheAresandAthenacabins,sincetheyhadthebestswordfighters,butIdidn’tgetalongwithClarisseandhersiblings,andaftermyargumentwithAnnabeth,Ijustdidn’twanttoseeher.

Iwenttoarcheryclass,eventhoughIwasterribleatit,anditwasn’tthesamewithoutChironteaching.Inartsandcrafts,IstartedamarblebustofPoseidon,butitstartedlookinglikeSylvesterStallone,soIditchedit.Iscaledtheclimbingwallinfulllava-and-earthquakemode.Andintheevenings,Ididborderpatrol.EventhoughTantalushadinsistedweforgettryingtoprotectthecamp,someofthecampershadquietlykeptitup,workingoutascheduleduringourfreetimes.

IsatatthetopofHalf-BloodHillandwatchedthedryadscomeandgo,singingtothedyingpinetree.Satyrsbroughttheirreedpipesandplayednaturemagicsongs,andforawhilethepineneedlesseemedtogetfuller.Theflowersonthehillsmelledalittlesweeterandthegrasslookedgreener.Butassoonasthemusicstopped,thesicknesscreptbackintotheair.Thewholehillseemedtobeinfected,dyingfromthepoisonthathadsunkintothetree’sroots.ThelongerIsatthere,theangrierIgot.

Lukehaddonethis.Irememberedhisslysmile,thedragon-clawscaracrosshisface.He’dpretendedtobemyfriend,andthewholetimehe’dbeenKronos’snumber-oneservant.

Iopenedthepalmofmyhand.ThescarLukehadgivenmelastsummerwasfading,butIcouldstillseeit—awhiteasterisk-shapedwoundwherehispitscorpionhadstungme.

IthoughtaboutwhatLukehadtoldmerightbeforehe’dtriedtokillme:Good-bye,Percy.ThereisanewGoldenAgecoming.Youwon’tbepartofit.

***Atnight,IhadmoredreamsofGrover.Sometimes,Ijustheardsnatchesofhisvoice.Once,Iheard

himsay:It’shere.Anothertime:Helikessheep.IthoughtabouttellingAnnabethaboutmydreams,butIwould’vefeltstupid.Imean,Helikessheep?

Shewould’vethoughtIwascrazy.Thenightbeforetherace,TysonandIfinishedourchariot.Itwaswickedcool.Tysonhadmadethe

metalpartsinthearmory’sforges.I’dsandedthewoodandputthecarriagetogether.Itwasblueandwhite,withwavedesignsonthesidesandatridentpaintedonthefront.Afterallthatwork,itseemedonlyfairthatTysonwouldrideshotgunwithme,thoughIknewthehorseswouldn’tlikeit,andTyson’sextraweightwouldslowusdown.

Aswewereturninginforbed,Tysonsaid,“Youaremad?”IrealizedI’dbeenscowling.“Nah.I’mnotmad.”Helaydowninhisbunkandwasquietinthedark.Hisbodywaswaytoolongforhisbed.Whenhe

pulledupthecovers,hisfeetstuckoutthebottom.“Iamamonster.”“Don’tsaythat.”“Itisokay.Iwillbeagoodmonster.Thenyouwillnothavetobemad.”Ididn’tknowwhattosay.IstaredattheceilingandfeltlikeIwasdyingslowly,rightalongwith

Thalia’stree.“It’sjust...Ineverhadahalf-brotherbefore.”Itriedtokeepmyvoicefromcracking.“It’sreally

differentforme.AndI’mworriedaboutthecamp.Andanotherfriendofmine,Grover...hemightbeintrouble.IkeepfeelinglikeIshouldbedoingsomethingtohelp,butIdon’tknowwhat.”

Tysonsaidnothing.“I’msorry,”Itoldhim.“It’snotyourfault.I’mmadatPoseidon.Ifeellikehe’stryingtoembarrass

me,likehe’stryingtocompareusorsomething,andIdon’tunderstandwhy.”Iheardadeeprumblingsound.Tysonwassnoring.Isighed.“Goodnight,bigguy.”AndIclosedmyeyes,too.

Inmydream,Groverwaswearingaweddingdress.Itdidn’tfithimverywell.Thegownwastoolongandthehemwascakedwithdriedmud.The

necklinekeptfallingoffhisshoulders.Atatteredveilcoveredhisface.Hewasstandinginadankcave,litonlybytorches.Therewasacotinonecornerandanold-

fashionedloomintheother,alengthofwhiteclothhalfwovenontheframe.Andhewasstaringrightatme,likeIwasaTVprogramhe’dbeenwaitingfor.“Thankthegods!”heyelped.“Canyouhearme?”

Mydream-selfwasslowtorespond.Iwasstilllookingaround,takinginthestalactiteceiling,thestenchofsheepandgoats,thegrowlingandgrumblingandbleatingsoundsthatseemedtoechofrom

behindarefrigerator-sizedboulder,whichwasblockingtheroom’sonlyexit,asiftherewereamuchlargercavernbeyondit.

“Percy?”Groversaid.“Please,Idon’thavethestrengthtoprojectanybetter.Youhavetohearme!”“Ihearyou,”Isaid.“Grover,what’sgoingon?”Frombehindtheboulder,amonstrousvoiceyelled,“Honeypie!Areyoudoneyet?”Groverflinched.Hecalledoutinfalsetto,“Notquite,dearest!Afewmoredays!”“Bah!Hasn’titbeentwoweeksyet?”“N-no,dearest.Justfivedays.Thatleavestwelvemoretogo.”Themonsterwassilent,maybetryingtodothemath.Hemust’vebeenworseatarithmeticthanI

was,becausehesaid,“Allright,buthurry!IwanttoSEEEEEunderthatveil,heh-heh-heh.”Groverturnedbacktome.“Youhavetohelpme!Notime!I’mstuckinthiscave.Onanislandinthe

sea.”“Where?”“Idon’tknowexactly!IwenttoFloridaandturnedleft.”“What?Howdidyou—”“It’satrap!”Groversaid.“It’sthereasonnosatyrhaseverreturnedfromthisquest.He’sa

shepherd,Percy!Andhehasit.ItsnaturemagicissopowerfulitsmellsjustlikethegreatgodPan!Thesatyrscomeherethinkingthey’vefoundPan,andtheygettrappedandeatenbyPolyphemus!”

“Poly-who?”“TheCyclops!”Groversaid,exasperated.“Ialmostgotaway.ImadeitallthewaytoSt.

Augustine.”“Buthefollowedyou,”Isaid,rememberingmyfirstdream.“Andtrappedyouinabridalboutique.”“That’sright,”Groversaid.“Myfirstempathylinkmust’veworkedthen.Look,thisbridaldressis

theonlythingkeepingmealive.HethinksIsmellgood,butItoldhimitwasjustgoat-scentedperfume.Thankgoodnesshecan’tseeverywell.Hiseyeisstillhalfblindfromthelasttimesomebodypokeditout.Butsoonhe’llrealizewhatIam.He’sonlygivingmetwoweekstofinishthebridaltrain,andhe’sgettingimpatient!”

“Waitaminute.ThisCyclopsthinksyou’re—”“Yes!”Groverwailed.“HethinksI’maladyCyclopsandhewantstomarryme!”Underdifferentcircumstances,Imight’vebustedoutlaughing,butGrover’svoicewasdeadly

serious.Hewasshakingwithfear.“I’llcomerescueyou,”Ipromised.“Whereareyou?”“TheSeaofMonsters,ofcourse!”“Theseaofwhat?”“Itoldyou!Idon’tknowexactlywhere!Andlook,Percy...um,I’mreallysorryaboutthis,butthis

empathylink...well,Ihadnochoice.Ouremotionsareconnectednow.IfIdie...”“Don’ttellme,I’lldietoo.”“Oh,well,perhapsnot.Youmightliveforyearsinavegetativestate.But,uh,itwouldbealotbetter

ifyougotmeoutofhere.”“Honeypie!”themonsterbellowed.“Dinnertime!Yummyyummysheepmeat!”Groverwhimpered.“Ihavetogo.Hurry!”

“Wait!Yousaid‘it’washere.What?”ButGrover’svoicewasalreadygrowingfainter.“Sweetdreams.Don’tletmedie!”ThedreamfadedandIwokewithastart.Itwasearlymorning.Tysonwasstaringdownatme,his

onebigbrowneyefullofconcern.“Areyouokay?”heasked.Hisvoicesentachilldownmyback,becausehesoundedalmostexactlylikethemonsterI’dheard

inmydream.

Themorningoftheracewashotandhumid.Foglaylowonthegroundlikesaunasteam.Millionsofbirdswereroostinginthetrees—fatgray-and-whitepigeons,excepttheydidn’tcoolikeregularpigeons.Theymadethisannoyingmetallicscreechingsoundthatremindedmeofsubmarineradar.

Theracetrackhadbeenbuiltinagrassyfieldbetweenthearcheryrangeandthewoods.Hephaestus’scabinhadusedthebronzebulls,whichwerecompletelytamesincethey’dhadtheirheadssmashedin,toplowanovaltrackinamatterofminutes.

Therewererowsofstonestepsforthespectators—Tantalus,thesatyrs,afewdryads,andallofthecamperswhoweren’tparticipating.Mr.Ddidn’tshow.Henevergotupbeforeteno’clock.

“Right!”Tantalusannouncedastheteamsbegantoassemble.Anaiadhadbroughthimabigplatterofpastries,andasTantalusspoke,hisrighthandchasedachocolateéclairacrossthejudge’stable.“Youallknowtherules.Aquarter-miletrack.Twicearoundtowin.Twohorsesperchariot.Eachteamwillconsistofadriverandafighter.Weaponsareallowed.Dirtytricksareexpected.Buttrynottokillanybody!”Tantalussmiledatuslikewewereallnaughtychildren.“Anykillingwillresultinharshpunishment.Nos’moresatthecampfireforaweek!Nowreadyyourchariots!”

BeckendorfledtheHephaestusteamontothetrack.Theyhadasweetridemadeofbronzeandiron—eventhehorses,whichweremagicalautomatonsliketheColchisbulls.IhadnodoubtthattheirchariothadallkindsofmechanicaltrapsandmorefancyoptionsthanafullyloadedMaserati.

TheAreschariotwasbloodred,andpulledbytwogrislyhorseskeletons.Clarisseclimbedaboardwithabatchofjavelins,spikedballs,caltrops,andabunchofothernastytoys.

Apollo’schariotwastrimandgracefulandcompletelygold,pulledbytwobeautifulpalominos.Theirfighterwasarmedwithabow,thoughhehadpromisednottoshootregularpointedarrowsattheopposingdrivers.

Hermes’schariotwasgreenandkindofold-looking,asifithadn’tbeenoutofthegarageinyears.Itdidn’tlooklikeanythingspecial,butitwasmannedbytheStollbrothers,andIshudderedtothinkwhatdirtytricksthey’dschemedup.

Thatlefttwochariots:onedrivenbyAnnabeth,andtheotherbyme.Beforetheracebegan,ItriedtoapproachAnnabethandtellheraboutmydream.SheperkedupwhenImentionedGrover,butwhenItoldherwhathe’dsaid,sheseemedtoget

distantagain,suspicious.“You’retryingtodistractme,”shedecided.“What?NoI’mnot!”“Oh,right!LikeGroverwouldjusthappentostumbleacrosstheonethingthatcouldsavethecamp.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Sherolledhereyes.“Gobacktoyourchariot,Percy.”

“I’mnotmakingthisup.He’sintrouble,Annabeth.”Shehesitated.Icouldtellshewastryingtodecidewhetherornottotrustme.Despiteouroccasional

fights,we’dbeenthroughalottogether.AndIknewshewouldneverwantanythingbadtohappentoGrover.

“Percy,anempathylinkissohardtodo.Imean,it’smorelikelyyoureallyweredreaming.”“TheOracle,”Isaid.“WecouldconsulttheOracle.”Annabethfrowned.Lastsummer,beforemyquest,I’dvisitedthestrangespiritthatlivedintheBigHouseatticandit

hadgivenmeaprophecythatcametrueinwaysI’dneverexpected.Theexperiencehadfreakedmeoutformonths.AnnabethknewI’dneversuggestgoingbackthereifIwasn’tcompletelyserious.

Beforeshecouldanswer,theconchhornsounded.“Charioteers!”Tantaluscalled.“Toyourmark!”“We’lltalklater,”Annabethtoldme,“afterIwin.”AsIwaswalkingbacktomyownchariot,Inoticedhowmanymorepigeonswereinthetreesnow

—screechinglikecrazy,makingthewholeforestrustle.Nobodyelseseemedtobepayingthemmuchattention,buttheymademenervous.Theirbeaksglintedstrangely.Theireyesseemedshinierthanregularbirds.

Tysonwashavingtroublegettingourhorsesundercontrol.Ihadtotalktothemalongtimebeforetheywouldsettledown.

He’samonster,lord!theycomplainedtome.He’sasonofPoseidon,Itoldthem.Justlike...well,justlikeme.No!theyinsisted.Monster!Horse-eater!Nottrusted!I’llgiveyousugarcubesattheendoftherace,Isaid.Sugarcubes?Verybigsugarcubes.Andapples.DidImentiontheapples?Finallytheyagreedtoletmeharnessthem.Now,ifyou’veneverseenaGreekchariot,it’sbuiltforspeed,notsafetyorcomfort.It’sbasicallya

woodenbasket,openattheback,mountedonanaxlebetweentwowheels.Thedriverstandsupthewholetime,andyoucanfeeleverybumpintheroad.Thecarriageismadeofsuchlightwoodthatifyouwipeoutmakingthehairpinturnsateitherendofthetrack,you’llprobablytipoverandcrushboththechariotandyourself.It’sanevenbetterrushthanskateboarding.

Itookthereinsandmaneuveredthechariottothestartingline.IgaveTysonaten-footpoleandtoldhimthathisjobwastopushtheotherchariotsawayiftheygottooclose,andtodeflectanythingtheymighttrytothrowatus.

“Nohittingponieswiththestick,”heinsisted.“No,”Iagreed.“Orpeople,either,ifyoucanhelpit.We’regoingtorunacleanrace.Justkeepthe

distractionsawayandletmeconcentrateondriving.”“Wewillwin!”Hebeamed.Wearesogoingtolose,Ithoughttomyself,butIhadtotry.Iwantedtoshowtheothers...well,I

wasn’tsurewhat,exactly.ThatTysonwasn’tsuchabadguy?ThatIwasn’tashamedofbeingseenwithhiminpublic?Maybethattheyhadn’thurtmewithalltheirjokesandname-calling?

Asthechariotslinedup,moreshiny-eyedpigeonsgatheredinthewoods.Theywerescreechingso

loudlythecampersinthestandswerestartingtotakenotice,glancingnervouslyatthetrees,whichshiveredundertheweightofthebirds.Tantalusdidn’tlookconcerned,buthedidhavetospeakuptobeheardoverthenoise.

“Charioteers!”heshouted.“Attendyourmark!”Hewavedhishandandthestartingsignaldropped.Thechariotsroaredtolife.Hoovesthundered

againstthedirt.Thecrowdcheered.Almostimmediatelytherewasaloudnastycrack!IlookedbackintimetoseetheApollochariot

flipover.TheHermeschariothadrammedintoit—maybebymistake,maybenot.Theriderswerethrownfree,buttheirpanickedhorsesdraggedthegoldenchariotdiagonallyacrossthetrack.TheHermesteam,TravisandConnorStoll,werelaughingattheirgoodluck,butnotforlong.TheApollohorsescrashedintotheirs,andtheHermeschariotflippedtoo,leavingapileofbrokenwoodandfourrearinghorsesinthedust.

Twochariotsdowninthefirsttwentyfeet.Ilovedthissport.Iturnedmyattentionbacktothefront.Weweremakinggoodtime,pullingaheadofAres,but

Annabeth’schariotwaswayaheadofus.Shewasalreadymakingherturnaroundthefirstpost,herjavelinmangrinningandwavingatus,shouting:“Seeya!”

TheHephaestuschariotwasstartingtogainonus,too.Beckendorfpressedabutton,andapanelslidopenonthesideofhischariot.“Sorry,Percy!”heyelled.Threesetsofballsandchainsshotstraighttowardourwheels.They

would’vewreckeduscompletelyifTysonhadn’twhackedthemasidewithaquickswipeofhispole.HegavetheHephaestuschariotagoodshoveandsentthemskitteringsidewayswhilewepulledahead.

“Nicework,Tyson!”Iyelled.“Birds!”hecried.“What?”Wewerewhippingalongsofastitwashardtohearorseeanything,butTysonpointedtowardthe

woodsandIsawwhathewasworriedabout.Thepigeonshadrisenfromthetrees.Theywerespiralinglikeahugetornado,headingtowardthetrack.

Nobigdeal,Itoldmyself.They’rejustpigeons.Itriedtoconcentrateontherace.Wemadeourfirstturn,thewheelscreakingunderus,thechariotthreateningtotip,butwewerenow

onlytenfeetbehindAnnabeth.IfIcouldjustgetalittlecloser,Tysoncouldusehispole....Annabeth’sfighterwasn’tsmilingnow.Hepulledajavelinfromhiscollectionandtookaimatme.

Hewasabouttothrowwhenweheardthescreaming.Thepigeonswereswarming—thousandsofthemdive-bombingthespectatorsinthestands,attacking

theotherchariots.Beckendorfwasmobbed.Hisfightertriedtobatthebirdsawaybuthecouldn’tseeanything.Thechariotveeredoffcourseandplowedthroughthestrawberryfields,themechanicalhorsessteaming.

IntheAreschariot,Clarissebarkedanordertoherfighter,whoquicklythrewascreenofcamouflagenettingovertheirbasket.Thebirdsswarmedaroundit,peckingandclawingatthefighter’shandsashetriedtoholdupthenet,butClarissejustgrittedherteethandkeptdriving.Herskeletalhorsesseemedimmunetothedistraction.Thepigeonspeckeduselesslyattheiremptyeyesocketsandflewthroughtheirribcages,butthestallionskeptrightonrunning.

Thespectatorsweren’tsolucky.Thebirdswereslashingatanybitofexposedflesh,driving

everyoneintoapanic.Nowthatthebirdswerecloser,itwascleartheyweren’tnormalpigeons.Theireyeswerebeadyandevil-looking.Theirbeaksweremadeofbronze,andjudgingfromtheyelpsofthecampers,theymust’vebeenrazorsharp.

“Stymphalianbirds!”Annabethyelled.Shesloweddownandpulledherchariotalongsidemine.“They’llstripeveryonetobonesifwedon’tdrivethemaway!”

“Tyson,”Isaid,“we’returningaround!”“Goingthewrongway?”heasked.“Always,”Igrumbled,butIsteeredthechariottowardthestands.Annabethroderightnexttome.Sheshouted,“Heroes,toarms!”ButIwasn’tsureanyonecouldhear

heroverthescreechingofthebirdsandthegeneralchaos.IheldmyreinsinonehandandmanagedtodrawRiptideasawaveofbirdsdivedatmyface,their

metalbeakssnapping.Islashedthemoutoftheairandtheyexplodedintodustandfeathers,buttherewerestillmillionsofthemleft.OnenailedmeinthebackendandIalmostjumpedstraightoutofthechariot.

Annabethwasn’thavingmuchbetterluck.Thecloserwegottothestands,thethickerthecloudofbirdsbecame.

Someofthespectatorsweretryingtofightback.TheAthenacamperswerecallingforshields.ThearchersfromApollo’scabinbroughtouttheirbowsandarrows,readytoslaythemenace,butwithsomanycampersmixedinwiththebirds,itwasn’tsafetoshoot.

“Toomany!”IyelledtoAnnabeth.“Howdoyougetridofthem?”Shestabbedatapigeonwithherknife.“Herculesusednoise!Brassbells!Hescaredthemaway

withthemosthorriblesoundhecould—”Hereyesgotwide.“Percy...Chiron’scollection!”Iunderstoodinstantly.“Youthinkit’llwork?”Shehandedherfighterthereinsandleapedfromherchariotintominelikeitwastheeasiestthingin

theworld.“TotheBigHouse!It’souronlychance!”Clarissehasjustpulledacrossthefinishline,completelyunopposed,andseemedtonoticeforthe

firsttimehowseriousthebirdproblemwas.Whenshesawusdrivingaway,sheyelled,“You’rerunning?Thefightishere,cowards!”Shedrew

herswordandchargedforthestands.Iurgedourhorsesintoagallop.Thechariotrumbledthroughthestrawberryfields,acrossthe

volleyballpit,andlurchedtoahaltinfrontoftheBigHouse.AnnabethandIraninside,tearingdownthehallwaytoChiron’sapartment.

Hisboomboxwasstillonhisnightstand.SowerehisfavoriteCDs.IgrabbedthemostrepulsiveoneIcouldfind,Annabethsnatchedtheboombox,andtogetherweranbackoutside.

Downatthetrack,thechariotswereinflames.Woundedcampersranineverydirection,withbirdsshreddingtheirclothesandpullingouttheirhair,whileTantaluschasedbreakfastpastriesaroundthestands,everyonceinawhileyelling,“Everything’sundercontrol!Nottoworry!”

Wepulleduptothefinishline.Annabethgottheboomboxready.Iprayedthebatteriesweren’tdead.

IpressedPLAYandstartedupChiron’sfavorite—theAll-TimeGreatestHitsofDeanMartin.SuddenlytheairwasfilledwithviolinsandabunchofguysmoaninginItalian.

Thedemonpigeonswentnuts.Theystartedflyingincircles,runningintoeachotherliketheywantedtobashtheirownbrainsout.Thentheyabandonedthetrackaltogetherandflewskywardinahugedarkwave.

“Now!”shoutedAnnabeth.“Archers!”Withcleartargets,Apollo’sarchershadflawlessaim.Mostofthemcouldnockfiveorsixarrowsat

once.Withinminutes,thegroundwaslitteredwithdeadbronze-beakedpigeons,andthesurvivorswereadistanttrailofsmokeonthehorizon.

Thecampwassaved,butthewreckagewasn’tpretty.Mostofthechariotshadbeencompletelydestroyed.Almosteveryonewaswounded,bleedingfrommultiplebirdpecks.ThekidsfromAphrodite’scabinwerescreamingbecausetheirhairdoshadbeenruinedandtheirclothespoopedon.

“Bravo!”Tantalussaid,buthewasn’tlookingatmeorAnnabeth.“Wehaveourfirstwinner!”Hewalkedtothefinishlineandawardedthegoldenlaurelsfortheracetoastunned-lookingClarisse.

Thenheturnedandsmiledatme.“Andnowtopunishthetroublemakerswhodisruptedthisrace.”

SEVEN

IACCEPTGIFTSFROMASTRANGER

ThewayTantalussawit,theStymphalianbirdshadsimplybeenmindingtheirownbusinessinthewoodsandwouldnothaveattackedifAnnabeth,Tyson,andIhadn’tdisturbedthemwithourbadchariotdriving.

Thiswassocompletelyunfair,ItoldTantalustogochaseadoughnut,whichdidn’thelphismood.Hesentencedustokitchenpatrol—scrubbingpotsandplattersallafternoonintheundergroundkitchenwiththecleaningharpies.Theharpieswashedwithlavainsteadofwater,togetthatextra-cleansparkleandkillninety-ninepointninepercentofallgerms,soAnnabethandIhadtowearasbestosglovesandaprons.

Tysondidn’tmind.Heplungedhisbarehandsrightinandstartedscrubbing,butAnnabethandIhadtosufferthroughhoursofhot,dangerouswork,especiallysincethereweretonsofextraplates.TantalushadorderedaspecialluncheonbanquettocelebrateClarisse’schariotvictory—afull-coursemealfeaturingcountry-friedStymphaliandeath-bird.

TheonlygoodthingaboutourpunishmentwasthatitgaveAnnabethandmeacommonenemyandlotsoftimetotalk.AfterlisteningtomydreamaboutGroveragain,shelookedlikeshemightbestartingtobelieveme.

“Ifhe’sreallyfoundit,”shemurmured,“andifwecouldretrieveit—”“Holdon,”Isaid.“Youactlikethis...whatever-it-isGroverfoundistheonlythingintheworld

thatcouldsavethecamp.Whatisit?”“I’llgiveyouahint.Whatdoyougetwhenyouskinaram?”“Messy?”Shesighed.“Afleece.Thecoatofaramiscalledafleece.Andifthatramhappenstohavegolden

wool—”“TheGoldenFleece.Areyouserious?”Annabethscrappedaplatefulofdeath-birdbonesintothelava.“Percy,remembertheGraySisters?

Theysaidtheyknewthelocationofthethingyouseek.AndtheymentionedJason.Threethousandyearsago,theytoldhimhowtofindtheGoldenFleece.YoudoknowthestoryofJasonandtheArgonauts?”

“Yeah,”Isaid.“Thatoldmoviewiththeclayskeletons.”Annabethrolledhereyes.“Ohmygods,Percy!Youaresohopeless.”“What?”Idemanded.“Justlisten.TherealstoryoftheFleece:therewerethesetwochildrenofZeus,CadmusandEuropa,

okay?Theywereabouttogetofferedupashumansacrifices,whentheyprayedtoZeustosavethem.SoZeussentthismagicalflyingramwithgoldenwool,whichpickedthemupinGreeceandcarriedthemallthewaytoColchisinAsiaMinor.Well,actuallyitcarriedCadmus.Europafelloffanddiedalongtheway,butthat’snotimportant.”

“Itwasprobablyimportanttoher.”

“Thepointis,whenCadmusgottoColchis,hesacrificedthegoldenramtothegodsandhungtheFleeceinatreeinthemiddleofthekingdom.TheFleecebroughtprosperitytotheland.Animalsstoppedgettingsick.Plantsgrewbetter.Farmershadbumpercrops.Plaguesnevervisited.That’swhyJasonwantedtheFleece.Itcanrevitalizeanylandwhereit’splaced.Itcuressickness,strengthensnature,cleansuppollution—”

“ItcouldcureThalia’stree.”Annabethnodded.“AnditwouldtotallystrengthenthebordersofCampHalf-Blood.ButPercy,the

Fleecehasbeenmissingforcenturies.Tonsofheroeshavesearchedforitwithnoluck.”“ButGroverfoundit,”Isaid.“HewentlookingforPanandhefoundtheFleeceinsteadbecausethey

bothradiatenaturemagic.Itmakessense,Annabeth.Wecanrescuehimandsavethecampatthesametime.It’sperfect!”

Annabethhesitated.“Alittletooperfect,don’tyouthink?Whatifit’satrap?”Irememberedlastsummer,howKronoshadmanipulatedourquest.He’dalmostfooledusinto

helpinghimstartawarthatwould’vedestroyedWesternCivilization.“Whatchoicedowehave?”Iasked.“AreyougoingtohelpmerescueGroverornot?”SheglancedatTyson,who’dlostinterestinourconversationandwashappilymakingtoyboatsout

ofcupsandspoonsinthelava.“Percy,”shesaidunderherbreath,“we’llhavetofightaCyclops.Polyphemus,theworstofthe

Cyclopes.Andthere’sonlyoneplacehisislandcouldbe.TheSeaofMonsters.”“Where’sthat?”ShestaredatmelikeshethoughtIwasplayingdumb.“TheSeaofMonsters.ThesameseaOdysseus

sailedthrough,andJason,andAeneas,andalltheothers.”“YoumeantheMediterranean?”“No.Well,yes...butno.”“Anotherstraightanswer.Thanks.”“Look,Percy,theSeaofMonstersistheseaallheroessailthroughontheiradventures.Itusedtobe

intheMediterranean,yes.Butlikeeverythingelse,itshiftslocationsastheWest’scenterofpowershifts.”

“LikeMountOlympusbeingabovetheEmpireStateBuilding,”Isaid.“AndHadesbeingunderLosAngeles.”

“Right.”“Butawholeseafullofmonsters—howcouldyouhidesomethinglikethat?Wouldn’tthemortals

noticeweirdthingshappening...like,shipsgettingeatenandstuff?”“Ofcoursetheynotice.Theydon’tunderstand,buttheyknowsomethingisstrangeaboutthatpartof

theocean.TheSeaofMonstersisofftheeastcoastoftheU.S.now,justnortheastofFlorida.Themortalsevenhaveanameforit.”

“TheBermudaTriangle?”“Exactly.”Iletthatsinkin.Iguessitwasn’tstrangerthananythingelseI’dlearnedsincecomingtoCampHalf-

Blood.“Okay...soatleastweknowwheretolook.”“It’sstillahugearea,Percy.Searchingforonetinyislandinmonster-infestedwaters—”

“Hey,I’mthesonoftheseagod.Thisismyhometurf.Howhardcanitbe?”Annabethknithereyebrows.“We’llhavetotalktoTantalus,getapprovalforaquest.He’llsayno.”“Notifwetellhimtonightatthecampfireinfrontofeverybody.Thewholecampwillhear.They’ll

pressurehim.Hewon’tbeabletorefuse.”“Maybe.”AlittlebitofhopecreptintoAnnabeth’svoice.“We’dbettergetthesedishesdone.Hand

methelavaspraygun,willyou?”

Thatnightatthecampfire,Apollo’scabinledthesing-along.Theytriedtogeteverybody’sspiritsup,butitwasn’teasyafterthatafternoon’sbirdattack.Weallsataroundasemicircleofstonesteps,singinghalfheartedlyandwatchingthebonfireblazewhiletheApolloguysstrummedtheirguitarsandpickedtheirlyres.

Wedidallthestandardcampnumbers:“DownbytheAegean,”“IAmMyOwnGreat-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa,”“ThisLandisMinos’sLand.”Thebonfirewasenchanted,sothelouderyousang,thehigheritrose,

changingcolorandheatwiththemoodofthecrowd.Onagoodnight,I’dseenittwentyfeethigh,brightpurple,andsohotthewholefrontrow’smarshmallowsburstintotheflames.Tonight,thefirewasonlyfivefeethigh,barelywarm,andtheflameswerethecoloroflint.

Dionysusleftearly.Aftersufferingthroughafewsongs,hemutteredsomethingabouthowevenpinochlewithChironhadbeenmoreexcitingthanthis.ThenhegaveTantalusadistastefullookandheadedbacktowardtheBigHouse.

Whenthelastsongwasover,Tantalussaid,“Well,thatwaslovely!”Hecameforwardwithatoastedmarshmallowonastickandtriedtopluckitoff,realcasual-like.

Butbeforehecouldtouchit,themarshmallowflewoffthestick.Tantalusmadeawildgrab,butthemarshmallowcommittedsuicide,divingintotheflames.

Tantalusturnedbacktowardus,smilingcoldly.“Nowthen!Someannouncementsabouttomorrow’sschedule.”

“Sir,”Isaid.Tantalus’seyetwitched.“Ourkitchenboyhassomethingtosay?”SomeoftheArescamperssnickered,butIwasn’tgoingtoletanybodyembarrassmeintosilence.I

stoodandlookedatAnnabeth.Thankthegods,shestoodupwithme.Isaid,“Wehaveanideatosavethecamp.”Deadsilence,butIcouldtellI’dgotteneverybody’sinterest,becausethecampfireflaredbright

yellow.“Indeed,”Tantalussaidblandly.“Well,ifithasanythingtodowithchariots—”“TheGoldenFleece,”Isaid.“Weknowwhereitis.”Theflamesburnedorange.BeforeTantaluscouldstopme,IblurtedoutmydreamaboutGroverand

Polyphemus’sisland.AnnabethsteppedinandremindedeverybodywhattheFleececoulddo.Itsoundedmoreconvincingcomingfromher.

“TheFleececansavethecamp,”sheconcluded.“I’mcertainofit.”“Nonsense,”saidTantalus.“Wedon’tneedsaving.”EverybodystaredathimuntilTantalusstartedlookinguncomfortable.“Besides,”headdedquickly,“theSeaofMonsters?That’shardlyanexactlocation.Youwouldn’t

evenknowwheretolook.”“Yes,Iwould,”Isaid.Annabethleanedtowardmeandwhispered,“Youwould?”Inodded,becauseAnnabethhadjoggedsomethinginmymemorywhensheremindedmeaboutour

taxidrivewiththeGraySisters.Atthetime,theinformationthey’dgivenmemadenosense.Butnow...“30,31,75,12,”Isaid.“Ooo-kay,”Tantalussaid.“Thankyouforsharingthosemeaninglessnumbers.”“They’resailingcoordinates,”Isaid.“Latitudeandlongitude.I,uh,learnedaboutitinsocial

studies.”EvenAnnabethlookedimpressed.“30degrees,31minutesnorth,75degrees,12minuteswest.He’s

right!TheGraySistersgaveusthosecoordinates.That’dbesomewhereintheAtlantic,offthecoastofFlorida.TheSeaofMonsters.Weneedaquest!”

“Waitjustaminute,”Tantalussaid.Butthecamperstookupthechant.“Weneedaquest!Weneedaquest!”Theflamesrosehigher.“Itisn’tnecessary!”Tantalusinsisted.“WENEEDAQUEST!WENEEDAQUEST!”“Fine!”Tantalusshouted,hiseyesblazingwithanger.“Youbratswantmetoassignaquest?”“YES!”“Verywell,”heagreed.“Ishallauthorizeachampiontoundertakethisperilousjourney,toretrieve

theGoldenFleeceandbringitbacktocamp.Ordietrying.”Myheartfilledwithexcitement.Iwasn’tgoingtoletTantalusscareme.ThiswaswhatIneededto

do.IwasgoingtosaveGroverandthecamp.Nothingwouldstopme.“IwillallowourchampiontoconsulttheOracle!”Tantalusannounced.“Andchoosetwo

companionsforthejourney.AndIthinkthechoiceofchampionisobvious.”TantaluslookedatAnnabethandmeasifhewantedtoflayusalive.“Thechampionshouldbeone

whohasearnedthecamp’srespect,whohasprovenresourcefulinthechariotracesandcourageousinthedefenseofthecamp.Youshallleadthisquest...Clarisse!”

Thefireflickeredathousanddifferentcolors.TheArescabinstartedstompingandcheering,“CLARISSE!CLARISSE!”

Clarissestoodup,lookingstunned.Thensheswallowed,andherchestswelledwithpride.“Iacceptthequest!”

“Wait!”Ishouted.“Groverismyfriend.Thedreamcametome.”“Sitdown!”yelledoneoftheArescampers.“Youhadyourchancelastsummer!”“Yeah,hejustwantstobeinthespotlightagain!”anothersaid.Clarisseglaredatme.“Iacceptthequest!”sherepeated.“I,Clarisse,daughterofAres,willsavethe

camp!”TheArescamperscheeredevenlouder.Annabethprotested,andtheotherAthenacampersjoinedin.

Everybodyelsestartedtakingsides—shoutingandarguingandthrowingmarshmallows.Ithoughtitwasgoingtoturnintoafull-fledgeds’morewaruntilTantalusshouted,“Silence,youbrats!”

Histonestunnedevenme.

“Sitdown!”heordered.“AndIwilltellyouaghoststory.”Ididn’tknowwhathewasupto,butweallmovedreluctantlybacktoourseats.Theevilaura

radiatingfromTantaluswasasstrongasanymonsterI’deverfaced.“OnceuponatimetherewasamortalkingwhowasbelovedoftheGods!”Tantalusputhishandon

hischest,andIgotthefeelinghewastalkingabouthimself.“Thisking,”hesaid,“wasevenallowedtofeastonMountOlympus.Butwhenhetriedtotakesome

ambrosiaandnectarbacktoearthtofigureouttherecipe—justonelittledoggiebag,mindyou—thegodspunishedhim.Theybannedhimfromtheirhallsforever!Hisownpeoplemockedhim!Hischildrenscoldedhim!And,ohyes,campers,hehadhorriblechildren.Children—just—like—you!”

Hepointedacrookedfingeratseveralpeopleintheaudience,includingme.“Doyouknowwhathedidtohisungratefulchildren?”Tantalusaskedsoftly.“Doyouknowhowhe

paidbackthegodsfortheircruelpunishment?HeinvitedtheOlympianstoafeastathispalace,justtoshowtherewerenohardfeelings.Noonenoticedthathischildrenweremissing.Andwhenheservedthegodsdinner,mydearcampers,canyouguesswhatwasinthestew?”

Noonedaredanswer.Thefirelightgloweddarkblue,reflectingevillyonTantalus’scrookedface.“Oh,thegodspunishedhimintheafterlife,”Tantaluscroaked.“Theydidindeed.Buthe’dhadhis

momentofsatisfaction,hadn’the?Hischildrenneveragainspokebacktohimorquestionedhisauthority.Anddoyouknowwhat?Rumorhasitthattheking’sspiritnowdwellsatthisverycamp,waitingforachancetotakerevengeonungrateful,rebelliouschildren.Andso...arethereanymorecomplaints,beforewesendClarisseoffonherquest?”

Silence.TantalusnoddedatClarisse.“TheOracle,mydear.Goon.”Sheshifteduncomfortably,likeevenshedidn’twantgloryatthepriceofbeingTantalus’spet.“Sir

—”“Go!”hesnarled.ShebowedawkwardlyandhurriedofftowardtheBigHouse.“Whataboutyou,PercyJackson?”Tantalusasked.“Nocommentsfromourdishwasher?”Ididn’tsayanything.Iwasn’tgoingtogivehimthesatisfactionofpunishingmeagain.“Good,”Tantalussaid.“Andletmeremindeveryone—nooneleavesthiscampwithoutmy

permission.Anyonewhotries...well,iftheysurvivetheattempt,theywillbeexpelledforever,butitwon’tcometothat.Theharpieswillbeenforcingcurfewfromnowon,andtheyarealwayshungry!Goodnight,mydearcampers.Sleepwell.”

WithawaveofTantalus’shand,thefirewasextinguished,andthecamperstrailedofftowardtheircabinsinthedark.

Icouldn’texplainthingstoTyson.HeknewIwassad.HeknewIwantedtogoonatripandTantaluswouldn’tletme.

“Youwillgoanyway?”heasked.“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted.“Itwouldbehard.Veryhard.”“Iwillhelp.”“No.I—uh,Icouldn’taskyoutodothat,bigguy.Toodangerous.”Tysonlookeddownatthepiecesofmetalhewasassemblinginhislap—springsandgearsandtiny

wires.Beckendorfhadgivenhimsometoolsandspareparts,andnowTysonspenteverynighttinkering,thoughIwasn’tsurehowhishugehandscouldhandlesuchdelicatelittlepieces.

“Whatareyoubuilding?”Iasked.Tysondidn’tanswer.Insteadhemadeawhimperingsoundinthebackofhisthroat.“Annabeth

doesn’tlikeCyclopes.You...don’twantmealong?”“Oh,that’snotit,”Isaidhalfheartedly.“Annabethlikesyou.Really.”Hehadtearsinthecornersofhiseye.IrememberedthatGrover,likeallsatyrs,couldreadhumanemotions.IwonderedifCyclopeshad

thesameability.Tysonfoldeduphistinkeringprojectinanoilcloth.Helaydownonhisbunkbedandhuggedhis

bundlelikeateddybear.Whenheturnedtowardthewall,Icouldseetheweirdscarsonhisback,likesomebodyhadplowedoverhimwithatractor.Iwonderedforthemillionthtimehowhe’dgottenhurt.

“Daddyalwayscaredform-me,”hesniffled.“Now...IthinkhewasmeantohaveaCyclopsboy.Ishouldnothavebeenborn.”

“Don’ttalkthatway!Poseidonclaimedyou,didn’the?So...hemustcareaboutyou...alot....”MyvoicetrailedoffasIthoughtaboutallthoseyearsTysonhadlivedonthestreetsofNewYorkin

acardboardrefrigeratorbox.HowcouldTysonthinkthatPoseidonhadcaredforhim?Whatkindofdadletthathappentohiskid,evenifhiskidwasamonster?

“Tyson...campwillbeagoodhomeforyou.Theotherswillgetusedtoyou.Ipromise.”Tysonsighed.Iwaitedforhimtosaysomething.ThenIrealizedhewasalreadyasleep.Ilaybackonmybedandtriedtoclosemyeyes,butIjustcouldn’t.IwasafraidImighthaveanother

dreamaboutGrover.Iftheempathylinkwasreal...ifsomethinghappenedtoGrover...wouldIeverwakeup?

Thefullmoonshonethroughmywindow.Thesoundofthesurfrumbledinthedistance.Icouldsmellthewarmscentofthestrawberryfields,andhearthelaughterofthedryadsastheychasedowlsthroughtheforest.Butsomethingfeltwrongaboutthenight—thesicknessofThalia’stree,spreadingacrossthevalley.

CouldClarissesaveHalf-BloodHill?Ithoughttheoddswerebetterofmegettinga“BestCamper”awardfromTantalus.

Igotoutofbedandpulledonsomeclothes.Igrabbedabeachblanketandasix-packofCokefromundermybunk.TheCokeswereagainsttherules.Nooutsidesnacksordrinkswereallowed,butifyoutalkedtotherightguyinHermes’scabinandpaidhimafewgoldendrachma,hecouldsmuggleinalmostanythingfromthenearestconveniencestore.

Sneakingoutaftercurfewwasagainsttherules,too.IfIgotcaughtI’deithergetinbigtroubleorbeeatenbytheharpies.ButIwantedtoseetheocean.Ialwaysfeltbetterthere.Mythoughtswereclearer.Ileftthecabinandheadedforthebeach.

IspreadmyblanketnearthesurfandpoppedopenaCoke.Forsomereasonsugarandcaffeinealwayscalmeddownmyhyperactivebrain.Itriedtodecidewhattodotosavethecamp,butnothingcametome.IwishedPoseidonwouldtalktome,givemesomeadviceorsomething.

Theskywasclearandstarry.IwascheckingouttheconstellationsAnnabethhadtaughtme—Sagittarius,Hercules,CoronaBorealis—whensomebodysaid,“Beautiful,aren’tthey?”

Ialmostspewedsoda.

StandingrightnexttomewasaguyinnylonrunningshortsandaNewYorkCityMarathonT-shirt.Hewasslimandfit,withsalt-and-pepperhairandaslysmile.Helookedkindoffamiliar,butIcouldn’tfigureoutwhy.

Myfirstthoughtwasthathemust’vebeentakingamidnightjogdownthebeachandstrayedinsidethecampborders.Thatwasn’tsupposedtohappen.Regularmortalscouldn’tenterthevalley.Butmaybewiththetree’smagicweakeninghe’dmanagedtoslipin.Butinthemiddleofthenight?Andtherewasnothingaroundexceptfarmlandandstatepreserves.Wherewouldthisguyhavejoggedfrom?

“MayIjoinyou?”heasked.“Ihaven’tsatdowninages.”Now,Iknow—astrangeguyinthemiddleofthenight.Commonsense:Iwassupposedtorunaway,

yellforhelp,etc.ButtheguyactedsocalmaboutthewholethingthatIfoundithardtobeafraid.Isaid,“Uh,sure.”Hesmiled.“Yourhospitalitydoesyoucredit.Oh,andCoca-Cola!MayI?”Hesatattheotherendoftheblanket,poppedasodaandtookadrink.“Ah...thathitsthespot.

Peaceandquietat—”Acellphonewentoffinhispocket.Thejoggersighed.Hepulledouthisphoneandmyeyesgotbig,becauseitglowedwithabluish

light.Whenheextendedtheantenna,twocreaturesbeganwrithingaroundit—greensnakes,nobiggerthanearthworms.

Thejoggerdidn’tseemtonotice.HecheckedhisLCDdisplayandcursed.“I’vegottotakethis.Justasec...”Thenintothephone:“Hello?”

Helistened.Themini-snakeswrithedupanddowntheantennarightnexttohisear.“Yeah,”thejoggersaid.“Listen—Iknow,but...Idon’tcareifheischainedtoarockwithvultures

peckingathisliver,ifhedoesn’thaveatrackingnumber,wecan’tlocatehispackage....Agifttohumankind,great...Youknowhowmanyofthosewedeliver—Oh,nevermind.Listen,justreferhimtoErisincustomerservice.Igottago.”

Hehungup.“Sorry.Theovernightexpressbusinessisjustbooming.Now,asIwassaying—”“Youhavesnakesonyourphone.”“What?Oh,theydon’tbite.Sayhello,GeorgeandMartha.”Hello,GeorgeandMartha,araspymalevoicesaidinsidemyhead.Don’tbesarcastic,saidafemalevoice.Whynot?Georgedemanded.Idoalltherealwork.“Oh,let’snotgointothatagain!”Thejoggerslippedhisphonebackintohispocket.“Now,where

werewe...Ah,yes.Peaceandquiet.”Hecrossedhisanklesandstaredupatthestars.“BeenalongtimesinceI’vegottentorelax.Ever

sincethetelegraph—rush,rush,rush.Doyouhaveafavoriteconstellation,Percy?”Iwasstillkindofwonderingaboutthelittlegreensnakeshe’dshovedintohisjoggingshorts,butI

said,“Uh,IlikeHercules.”“Why?”“Well...becausehehadrottenluck.Evenworsethanmine.Itmakesmefeelbetter.”Thejoggerchuckled.“Notbecausehewasstrongandfamousandallthat?”“No.”

“You’reaninterestingyoungman.Andso,whatnow?”Iknewimmediatelywhathewasasking.WhatdidIintendtodoabouttheFleece?BeforeIcouldanswer,Marthathesnake’smuffledvoicecamefromhispocket:IhaveDemeteron

linetwo.“Notnow,”thejoggersaid.“Tellhertoleaveamessage.”She’snotgoingtolikethat.Thelasttimeyouputheroff,alltheflowersinthefloraldelivery

divisionwilted.“JusttellherI’minameeting!”Thejoggerrolledhiseyes.“Sorryagain,Percy.Youweresaying..

.”“Um...whoareyou,exactly?”“Haven’tyouguessedbynow,asmartboylikeyou?”Showhim!Marthapleaded.Ihaven’tbeenfull-sizeformonths.Don’tlistentoher!Georgesaid.Shejustwantstoshowoff!Themantookouthisphoneagain.“Originalform,please.”Thephoneglowedabrilliantblue.Itstretchedintoathree-foot-longwoodenstaffwithdovewings

sproutingoutthetop.GeorgeandMartha,nowfull-sizedgreensnakes,coiledtogetheraroundthemiddle.Itwasacaduceus,thesymbolofCabinEleven.

Mythroattightened.Irealizedwhothejoggerremindedmeofwithhiselfishfeatures,themischievoustwinkleinhiseyes....

“You’reLuke’sfather,”Isaid.“Hermes.”Thegodpursedhislips.Hestuckhiscaduceusinthesandlikeanumbrellapole.“‘Luke’s

father.’Normally,that’snotthefirstwaypeopleintroduceme.Godofthieves,yes.Godofmessengersandtravelers,iftheywishtobekind.”

Godofthievesworks,Georgesaid.Oh,don’tmindGeorge.Marthaflickedhertongueatme.He’sjustbitterbecauseHermeslikesme

best.Hedoesnot!Doestoo!“Behave,youtwo,”Hermeswarned,“orI’llturnyoubackintoacellphoneandsetyouonvibrate!

Now,Percy,youstillhaven’tansweredmyquestion.Whatdoyouintendtodoaboutthequest?”“I—Idon’thavepermissiontogo.”“No,indeed.Willthatstopyou?”“Iwanttogo.IhavetosaveGrover.”Hermessmiled.“Iknewaboyonce...oh,youngerthanyoubyfar.Amerebaby,really.”Herewegoagain,Georgesaid.Alwaystalkingabouthimself.Quiet!Marthasnapped.Doyouwanttogetsetonvibrate?Hermesignoredthem.“Onenight,whenthisboy’smotherwasn’twatching,hesneakedoutoftheir

caveandstolesomecattlethatbelongedtoApollo.”“Didhegetblastedtotinypieces?”Iasked.“Hmm...no.Actually,everythingturnedoutquitewell.Tomakeupforhistheft,theboygave

Apolloaninstrumenthe’dinvented—alyre.Apollowassoenchantedwiththemusicthatheforgotall

aboutbeingangry.”“Sowhat’sthemoral?”“Themoral?”Hermesasked.“Goodness,youactlikeit’safable.It’satruestory.Doestruthhavea

moral?”“Um...”“Howaboutthis:stealingisnotalwaysbad?”“Idon’tthinkmymomwouldlikethatmoral.”Ratsaredelicious,suggestedGeorge.Whatdoesthathavetodowiththestory?Marthademanded.Nothing,Georgesaid.ButI’mhungry.“I’vegotit,”Hermessaid.“Youngpeopledon’talwaysdowhatthey’retold,butiftheycanpullit

offanddosomethingwonderful,sometimestheyescapepunishment.How’sthat?”“You’resayingIshouldgoanyway,”Isaid,“evenwithoutpermission.”Hermes’seyestwinkled.“Martha,mayIhavethefirstpackage,please?”Marthaopenedhermouth...andkeptopeningituntilitwasaswideasmyarm.Shebelchedouta

stainlesssteelcanister—anold-fashionedlunchboxthermoswithablackplastictop.ThesidesofthethermoswereenameledwithredandyellowAncientGreekscenes—aherokillingalion;aheroliftingupCerberus,thethree-headeddog.

“That’sHercules,”Isaid.“Buthow—”“Neverquestionagift,”Hermeschided.“Thisisacollector’sitemfromHerculesBustsHeads.The

firstseason.”“HerculesBustsHeads?”“Greatshow.”Hermessighed.“BackbeforeHephaestus-TVwasallrealityprogramming.Of

course,thethermoswouldbeworthmuchmoreifIhadthewholelunchbox—”Orifithadn’tbeeninMartha’smouth,Georgeadded.I’llgetyouforthat.Marthabeganchasing

himaroundthecaduceus.“Waitaminute,”Isaid.“Thisisagift?”“Oneoftwo,”Hermessaid.“Goon,pickitup.”Ialmostdroppeditbecauseitwasfreezingcoldononesideandburninghotontheother.Theweird

thingwas,whenIturnedthethermos,thesidefacingtheocean—north—wasalwaysthecoldside....“It’sacompass!”Isaid.Hermeslookedsurprised.“Veryclever.Ineverthoughtofthat.Butitsintendeduseisabitmore

dramatic.Uncapit,andyouwillreleasethewindsfromthefourcornersoftheearthtospeedyouonyourway.Notnow!Andplease,whenthetimecomes,onlyunscrewthelidatinybit.Thewindsareabitlikeme—alwaysrestless.Shouldallfourescapeatonce...ah,butI’msureyou’llbecareful.Andnowmysecondgift.George?”

She’stouchingme,GeorgecomplainedasheandMarthaslitheredaroundthepole.“She’salwaystouchingyou,”Hermessaid.“You’reintertwined.Andifyoudon’tstopthat,you’ll

getknottedagain!”Thesnakesstoppedwrestling.

Georgeunhingedhisjawandcoughedupalittleplasticbottlefilledwithchewablevitamins.“You’rekidding,”Isaid.“ArethoseMinotaur-shaped?”Hermespickedupthebottleandrattledit.“Thelemonones,yes.ThegrapeonesareFuries,Ithink.

Oraretheyhydras?Atanyrate,thesearepotent.Don’ttakeoneunlessyoureally,reallyneedit.”“HowwillIknowifIreally,reallyneedit?”“You’llknow,believeme.Nineessentialvitamins,minerals,aminoacids...oh,everythingyou

needtofeelyourselfagain.”Hetossedmethebottle.“Um,thanks,”Isaid.“ButLordHermes,whyareyouhelpingme?”Hegavemeamelancholysmile.“PerhapsbecauseIhopethatyoucansavemanypeopleonthis

quest,Percy.NotjustyourfriendGrover.”Istaredathim.“Youdon’tmean...Luke?”Hermesdidn’tanswer.“Look,”Isaid.“LordHermes,Imean,thanksandeverything,butyoumightaswelltakebackyour

gifts.Lukecan’tbesaved.EvenifIcouldfindhim...hetoldmehewantedtoteardownOlympusstonebystone.Hebetrayedeverybodyheknew.He—hehatesyouespecially.”

Hermesgazedupatthestars.“Mydearyoungcousin,ifthere’sonethingI’velearnedovertheeons,it’sthatyoucan’tgiveuponyourfamily,nomatterhowtemptingtheymakeit.Itdoesn’tmatteriftheyhateyou,orembarrassyou,orsimplydon’tappreciateyourgeniusforinventingtheInternet—”

“YouinventedtheInternet?”Itwasmyidea,Marthasaid.Ratsaredelicious,Georgesaid.“Itwasmyidea!”Hermessaid.“ImeantheInternet,nottherats.Butthat’snotthepoint.Percy,do

youunderstandwhatI’msayingaboutfamily?”“I—I’mnotsure.”“Youwillsomeday.”Hermesgotupandbrushedthesandoffhislegs.“Inthemeantime,Imustbe

going.”Youhavesixtycallstoreturn,Marthasaid.Andonethousand-thirty-eighte-mails,Georgeadded.Notcountingtheoffersforonlinediscount

ambrosia.“Andyou,Percy,”Hermessaid,“haveashorterdeadlinethanyourealizetocompleteyourquest.

Yourfriendsshouldbecomingrightabout...now.”IheardAnnabeth’svoicecallingmynamefromthesanddunes.Tyson,too,wasshoutingfromalittle

bitfartheraway.“IhopeIpackedwellforyou,”Hermessaid.“Idohavesomeexperiencewithtravel.”Hesnappedhisfingersandthreeyellowduffelbagsappearedatmyfeet.“Waterproof,ofcourse.If

youasknicely,yourfathershouldbeabletohelpyoureachtheship.”“Ship?”Hermespointed.Sureenough,abigcruiseshipwascuttingacrossLongIslandSound,itswhite-and-

goldlightsglowingagainstthedarkwater.“Wait,”Isaid.“Idon’tunderstandanyofthis.Ihaven’tevenagreedtogo!”

“I’dmakeupyourmindinthenextfiveminutes,ifIwereyou,”Hermesadvised.“That’swhentheharpieswillcometoeatyou.Now,goodnight,cousin,anddareIsayit?Maythegodsgowithyou.”

Heopenedhishandandthecaduceusflewintoit.Goodluck,Marthatoldme.Bringmebackarat,Georgesaid.ThecaduceuschangedintoacellphoneandHermesslippeditintohispocket.Hejoggedoffdownthebeach.Twentypacesaway,heshimmeredandvanished,leavingmealone

withathermos,abottleofchewablevitamins,andfiveminutestomakeanimpossibledecision.

EIGHT

WEBOARDTHEPRINCESSANDROMEDA

IwasstaringatthewaveswhenAnnabethandTysonfoundme.“What’sgoingon?”Annabethasked.“Iheardyoucallingforhelp!”“Me,too!”Tysonsaid.“Heardyouyell,‘Badthingsareattacking!’”“Ididn’tcallyouguys,”Isaid.“I’mfine.”“Butthenwho...”Annabethnoticedthethreeyellowduffelbags,thenthethermosandthebottleof

vitaminsIwasholding.“What—”“Justlisten,”Isaid.“Wedon’thavemuchtime.”ItoldthemaboutmyconversationwithHermes.BythetimeIwasfinished,Icouldhearscreeching

inthedistance—patrolharpiespickingupourscent.“Percy,”Annabethsaid,“wehavetodothequest.”“We’llgetexpelled,youknow.Trustme,I’manexpertatgettingexpelled.”“So?Ifwefail,therewon’tbeanycamptocomebackto.”“Yeah,butyoupromisedChiron—”“IpromisedI’dkeepyoufromdanger.Icanonlydothatbycomingwithyou!Tysoncanstaybehind

andtellthem—”“Iwanttogo,”Tysonsaid.“No!”Annabeth’svoicesoundedclosetopanic.“Imean...Percy,comeon.Youknowthat’s

impossible.”IwonderedagainwhyshehadsuchagrudgeagainstCyclopes.Therewassomethingshewasn’t

tellingme.SheandTysonbothlookedatme,waitingforananswer.Meanwhile,thecruiseshipwasgetting

fartherandfartheraway.Thethingwas,partofmedidn’twantTysonalong.I’dspentthelastthreedaysinclosequarterswith

theguy,gettingrazzedbytheothercampersandembarrassedamilliontimesaday,constantlyremindedthatIwasrelatedtohim.Ineededsomespace.

Plus,Ididn’tknowhowmuchhelphe’dbe,orhowI’dkeephimsafe.Sure,hewasstrong,butTysonwasalittlekidinCyclopsterms,maybesevenoreightyearsold,mentally.Icouldseehimfreakingoutandstartingtocrywhileweweretryingtosneakpastamonsterorsomething.He’dgetusallkilled.

Ontheotherhand,thesoundoftheharpieswasgettingcloser....“Wecan’tleavehim,”Idecided.“Tantaluswillpunishhimforusbeinggone.”“Percy,”Annabethsaid,tryingtokeephercool,“we’regoingtoPolyphemus’sisland!Polyphemus

isanS-i-k...aC-y-k...”Shestampedherfootinfrustration.Assmartasshewas,Annabethwasdyslexic,too.Wecould’vebeenthereallnightwhileshetriedtospellCyclops.“YouknowwhatImean!”

“Tysoncango,”Iinsisted,“ifhewantsto.”

Tysonclappedhishands.“Wantto!”Annabethgavemetheevileye,butIguessshecouldtellIwasn’tgoingtochangemymind.Or

maybeshejustknewwedidn’thavetimetoargue.“Allright,”shesaid.“Howdowegettothatship?”“Hermessaidmyfatherwouldhelp.”“Wellthen,SeaweedBrain?Whatareyouwaitingfor?”I’dalwayshadahardtimecallingonmyfather,orpraying,orwhateveryouwanttocallit,butI

steppedintothewaves.“Um,Dad?”Icalled.“How’sitgoing?”“Percy!”Annabethwhispered.“We’reinahurry!”“Weneedyourhelp,”Icalledalittlelouder.“Weneedtogettothatship,like,beforewegeteaten

andstuff,so...”Atfirst,nothinghappened.Wavescrashedagainsttheshorelikenormal.Theharpiessoundedlike

theywererightbehindthesanddunes.Then,aboutahundredyardsouttosea,threewhitelinesappearedonthesurface.Theymovedfasttowardtheshore,likeclawsrippingthroughtheocean.

Astheynearedthebeach,thesurfburstapartandtheheadsofthreewhitestallionsrearedoutofthewaves.

Tysoncaughthisbreath.“Fishponies!”Hewasright.Asthecreaturespulledthemselvesontothesand,Isawthattheywereonlyhorsesin

thefront;theirbackhalvesweresilveryfishbodies,withglisteningscalesandrainbowtailfins.“Hippocampi!”Annabethsaid.“They’rebeautiful.”ThenearestonewhinniedinappreciationandnuzzledAnnabeth.“We’lladmirethemlater,”Isaid.“Comeon!”“There!”avoicescreechedbehindus.“Badchildrenoutofcabins!Snacktimeforluckyharpies!”Fiveofthemwereflutteringoverthetopofthedunes—plumplittlehagswithpinchedfacesand

talonsandfeatherywingstoosmallfortheirbodies.Theyremindedmeofminiaturecafeterialadieswho’dbeencrossbredwithdodobirds.Theyweren’tveryfast,thankthegods,buttheywereviciousiftheycaughtyou.

“Tyson!”Isaid.“Grabaduffelbag!”Hewasstillstaringatthehippocampiwithhismouthhangingopen.“Tyson!”“Uh?”“Comeon!”WithAnnabeth’shelpIgothimmoving.Wegatheredthebagsandmountedoursteeds.Poseidon

must’veknownTysonwasoneofthepassengers,becauseonehippocampuswasmuchlargerthantheothertwo—justrightforcarryingaCyclops.

“Giddyup!”Isaid.Myhippocampusturnedandplungedintothewaves.Annabeth’sandTyson’sfollowedrightbehind.

Theharpiescursedatus,wailingfortheirsnackstocomeback,butthehippocampiracedoverthewateratthespeedofJetSkis.Theharpiesfellbehind,andsoontheshoreofCampHalf-Bloodwasnothingbutadarksmudge.IwonderedifI’deverseetheplaceagain.ButrightthenIhadotherproblems.

Thecruiseshipwasnowloominginfrontofus—ourridetowardFloridaandtheSeaofMonsters.

Ridingthehippocampuswaseveneasierthanridingapegasus.Wezippedalongwiththewindinourfaces,speedingthroughthewavessosmoothandsteadyIhardlyneededtoholdonatall.

Aswegotclosertothecruiseship,Irealizedjusthowhugeitwas.IfeltasthoughIwerelookingupatabuildinginManhattan.Thewhitehullwasatleasttenstoriestall,toppedwithanotherdozenlevelsofdeckswithbrightlylitbalconiesandportholes.Theship’snamewaspaintedjustabovethebowlineinblackletters,litwithaspotlight.Ittookmeafewsecondstodecipherit:PRINCESSANDROMEDA

Attachedtothebowwasahugemasthead—athreestory-tallwomanwearingawhiteGreekchiton,sculptedtolookasifshewerechainedtothefrontoftheship.Shewasyoungandbeautiful,withflowingblackhair,butherexpressionwasoneofabsoluteterror.Whyanybodywouldwantascreamingprincessonthefrontoftheirvacationship,Ihadnoidea.

IrememberedthemythaboutAndromedaandhowshehadbeenchainedtoarockbyherownparentsasasacrificetoaseamonster.Maybeshe’dgottentoomanyF’sonherreportcardorsomething.Anyway,mynamesake,Perseus,hadsavedherjustintimeandturnedtheseamonstertostoneusingtheheadofMedusa.

ThatPerseusalwayswon.That’swhymymomhadnamedmeafterhim,eventhoughhewasasonofZeusandIwasasonofPoseidon.TheoriginalPerseuswasoneoftheonlyheroesintheGreekmythswhogotahappyending.Theothersdied—betrayed,mauled,mutilated,poisoned,orcursedbythegods.MymomhopedIwouldinheritPerseus’sluck.Judgingbyhowmylifewasgoingsofar,Iwasn’trealoptimistic.

“Howdowegetaboard?”Annabethshoutedoverthenoiseofthewaves,butthehippocampiseemedtoknowwhatweneeded.Theyskimmedalongthestarboardsideoftheship,ridingeasilythroughitshugewake,andpulledupnexttoaserviceladderrivetedtothesideofthehull.

“Youfirst,”ItoldAnnabeth.Sheslungherduffelbagoverhershoulderandgrabbedthebottomrung.Onceshe’dhoistedherself

ontotheladder,herhippocampuswhinniedafarewellanddoveunderwater.Annabethbegantoclimb.Ilethergetafewrungsup,thenfollowedher.

FinallyitwasjustTysoninthewater.Hishippocampuswastreatinghimto360ºaerialsandbackwardollies,andTysonwaslaughingsohysterically,thesoundechoedupthesideoftheship.

“Tyson,shhh!”Isaid.“Comeon,bigguy!”“Can’twetakeRainbow?”heasked,hissmilefading.Istaredathim.“Rainbow?”Thehippocampuswhinniedasifhelikedhisnewname.“Um,wehavetogo,”Isaid.“Rainbow...well,hecan’tclimbladders.”Tysonsniffled.Heburiedhisfaceinthehippocampus’smane.“Iwillmissyou,Rainbow!”ThehippocampusmadeaneighingsoundIcould’veswornwascrying.“Maybewe’llseehimagainsometime,”Isuggested.“Oh,please!”Tysonsaid,perkingupimmediately.“Tomorrow!”Ididn’tmakeanypromises,butIfinallyconvincedTysontosayhisfarewellsandgrabholdofthe

ladder.Withafinalsadwhinny,Rainbowthehippocampusdidaback-flipanddoveintothesea.

Theladderledtoamaintenancedeckstackedwithyellowlifeboats.Therewasasetoflockeddouble

doors,whichAnnabethmanagedtopryopenwithherknifeandafairamountofcursinginAncientGreek.Ifiguredwe’dhavetosneakaround,beingstowawaysandall,butaftercheckingafewcorridors

andpeeringoverabalconyintoahugecentralpromenadelinedwithclosedshops,Ibegantorealizetherewasnobodytohidefrom.Imean,sureitwasthemiddleofthenight,butwewalkedhalfthelengthoftheboatandmetnoone.Wepassedfortyorfiftycabindoorsandheardnosoundbehindanyofthem.

“It’saghostship,”Imurmured.“No,”Tysonsaid,fiddlingwiththestrapofhisduffelbag.“Badsmell.”Annabethfrowned.“Idon’tsmellanything.”“Cyclopesarelikesatyrs,”Isaid.“Theycansmellmonsters.Isn’tthatright,Tyson?”Henoddednervously.NowthatwewereawayfromCampHalf-Blood,theMisthaddistortedhis

faceagain.UnlessIconcentratedveryhard,itseemedthathehadtwoeyesinsteadofone.“Okay,”Annabethsaid.“Sowhatexactlydoyousmell?”“Somethingbad,”Tysonanswered.“Great,”Annabethgrumbled.“Thatclearsitup.”Wecameoutsideontheswimmingpoollevel.Therewererowsofemptydeckchairsandabar

closedoffwithachaincurtain.Thewaterinthepoolglowedeerily,sloshingbackandforthfromthemotionoftheship.

Aboveusforeandaftweremorelevels—aclimbingwall,aputt-puttgolfcourse,arevolvingrestaurant,butnosignoflife.

Andyet...Isensedsomethingfamiliar.Somethingdangerous.IhadthefeelingthatifIweren’tsotiredandburnedoutonadrenalinefromourlongnight,Imightbeabletoputanametowhatwaswrong.

“Weneedahidingplace,”Isaid.“Somewheresafetosleep.”“Sleep,”Annabethagreedwearily.Weexploredafewmorecorridorsuntilwefoundanemptysuiteontheninthlevel.Thedoorwas

open,whichstruckmeasweird.Therewasabasketofchocolategoodiesonthetable,aniced-downbottleofsparklingcideronthenightstand,andamintonthepillowwithahandwrittennotethatsaid:Enjoyyourcruise!

WeopenedourduffelbagsforthefirsttimeandfoundthatHermesreallyhadthoughtofeverything—extraclothes,toiletries,camprations,aZiplocbagfullofcash,aleatherpouchfullofgoldendrachmas.He’devenmanagedtopackTyson’soilclothwithhistoolsandmetalbits,andAnnabeth’scapofinvisibility,whichmadethembothfeelalotbetter.

“I’llbenextdoor,”Annabethsaid.“Youguysdon’tdrinkoreatanything.”“Youthinkthisplaceisenchanted?”Shefrowned.“Idon’tknow.Somethingisn’tright.Just...becareful.”Welockedourdoors.Tysoncrashedonthecouch.Hetinkeredforafewminutesonhismetalworkingproject—whichhe

stillwouldn’tshowme—butsoonenoughhewasyawning.Hewrappeduphisoilclothandpassedout.Ilayonthebedandstaredouttheporthole.IthoughtIheardvoicesoutinthehallway,like

whispering.Iknewthatcouldn’tbe.We’dwalkedallovertheshipandhadseennobody.Butthevoiceskeptmeawake.TheyremindedmeofmytriptotheUnderworld—thewaythespiritsofthedeadsoundedastheydriftedpast.

Finallymywearinessgotthebestofme.Ifellasleep...andhadmyworstdreamyet.

Iwasstandinginacavernattheedgeofanenormouspit.Iknewtheplacetoowell.TheentrancetoTartarus.AndIrecognizedthecoldlaughthatechoedfromthedarknessbelow.

Ifitisn’ttheyounghero.Thevoicewaslikeaknifebladescrapingacrossstone.Onhiswaytoanothergreatvictory.

IwantedtoshoutatKronostoleavemealone.IwantedtodrawRiptideandstrikehimdown.ButIcouldn’tmove.AndevenifIcould,howcouldIkillsomethingthathadalreadybeendestroyed—choppedtopiecesandcastintoeternaldarkness?

Don’tletmestopyou,thetitansaid.Perhapsthistime,whenyoufail,you’llwonderifit’sworthwhileslavingforthegods.Howexactlyhasyourfathershownhisappreciationlately?

Hislaughterfilledthecavern,andsuddenlythescenechanged.Itwasadifferentcave—Grover’sbedroomprisonintheCyclops’slair.Groverwassittingattheloominhissoiledweddingdress,madlyunravelingthethreadsofthe

unfinishedbridaltrain.“Honeypie!”themonstershoutedfrombehindtheboulder.Groveryelpedandbeganweavingthethreadsbacktogether.Theroomshookastheboulderwaspushedaside.LoominginthedoorwaywasaCyclopssohuge

hemadeTysonlookverticallychallenged.Hehadjaggedyellowteethandgnarledhandsasbigasmywholebody.HeworeafadedpurpleT-shirtthatsaidWORLDSHEEPEXPO2001.Hemust’vebeenatleastfifteenfeettall,butthemoststartlingthingwashisenormousmilkyeye,scarredandwebbedwithcataracts.Ifhewasn’tcompletelyblind,hehadtobeprettydarnclose.

“Whatareyoudoing?”themonsterdemanded.“Nothing!”Groversaidinhisfalsettovoice.“Justweavingmybridaltrain,asyoucansee.”TheCyclopsstuckonehandintotheroomandgropedarounduntilhefoundtheloom.Hepawedat

thecloth.“Ithasn’tgottenanylonger!”“Oh,um,yesithas,dearest.See?I’veaddedatleastaninch.”“Toomanydelays!”themonsterbellowed.Thenhesniffedtheair.“Yousmellgood!Likegoats!”“Oh.”Groverforcedaweakgiggle.“Doyoulikeit?It’sEaudeChévre.Iworeitjustforyou.”“Mmmm!”TheCyclopsbaredhispointedteeth.“Goodenoughtoeat!”“Oh,you’resuchaflirt!”“Nomoredelays!”“Butdear,I’mnotdone!”“Tomorrow!”“No,no.Tenmoredays.”“Five!”“Oh,well,seventhen.Ifyouinsist.”“Seven!Thatislessthanfive,right?”“Certainly.Ohyes.”Themonstergrumbled,stillnothappywithhisdeal,butheleftGrovertohisweavingandrolledthe

boulderbackintoplace.Groverclosedhiseyesandtookashakybreath,tryingtocalmhisnerves.“Hurry,Percy,”hemuttered.“Please,please,please!”

***Iwoketoaship’swhistleandavoiceontheintercom—someguywithanAustralianaccentwho

soundedwaytoohappy.“Goodmorning,passengers!We’llbeatseaalldaytoday.Excellentweatherforthepoolside

mamboparty!Don’tforgetmillion-dollarbingointheKrakenLoungeatoneo’clock,andforourspecialguests,disembowelingpracticeonthePromenade!”

Isatupinbed.“Whatdidhesay?”Tysongroaned,stillhalfasleep.Hewaslyingfacedownonthecouch,hisfeetsofarovertheedge

theywereinthebathroom.“Thehappymansaid...bowlingpractice?”Ihopedhewasright,butthentherewasanurgentknockonthesuite’sinteriordoor.Annabethstuck

herheadin—herblondhairinarat’snest.“Disembowelingpractice?”Oncewewerealldressed,weventuredoutintotheshipandweresurprisedtoseeotherpeople.A

dozenseniorcitizenswereheadingtobreakfast.Adadwastakinghiskidstothepoolforamorningswim.Crewmembersincrispwhiteuniformsstrolledthedeck,tippingtheirhatstothepassengers.

Nobodyaskedwhowewere.Nobodypaidusmuchattention.Buttherewassomethingwrong.Asthefamilyofswimmerspassedus,thedadtoldhiskids:“Weareonacruise.Wearehavingfun.”“Yes,”histhreekidssaidinunison,theirexpressionsblank.“Wearehavingablast.Wewillswim

inthepool.”Theywanderedoff.“Goodmorning,”acrewmembertoldus,hiseyesglazed.“Weareallenjoyingourselvesaboardthe

PrincessAndromeda.Haveaniceday.”Hedriftedaway.“Percy,thisisweird,”Annabethwhispered.“They’reallinsomekindoftrance.”Thenwepassedacafeteriaandsawourfirstmonster.Itwasahellhound—ablackmastiffwithits

frontpawsuponthebuffetlineanditsmuzzleburiedinthescrambledeggs.Itmust’vebeenyoung,becauseitwassmallcomparedtomost—nobiggerthanagrizzlybear.Still,mybloodturnedcold.I’dalmostgottenkilledbyoneofthosebefore.

Theweirdthingwas:amiddle-agedcouplewasstandinginthebuffetlinerightbehindthedevildog,patientlywaitingtheirturnfortheeggs.Theydidn’tseemtonoticeanythingoutoftheordinary.

“Nothungryanymore,”Tysonmurmured.BeforeAnnabethorIcouldreply,areptilianvoicecamefromdownthecorridor,“Ssssixmore

joinedyesssterday.”Annabethgesturedfranticallytowardthenearesthidingplace—thewomen’sroom—andallthreeof

usduckedinside.Iwassofreakedoutitdidn’tevenoccurtometobeembarrassed.Something—ormoreliketwosomethings—slitheredpastthebathroomdoor,makingsoundslike

sandpaperagainstthecarpet.“Yesss,”asecondreptilianvoicesaid.“Hedrawssssthem.Ssssoonwewillbesssstrong.”Thethingsslitheredintothecafeteriawithacoldhissingthatmighthavebeensnakelaughter.Annabethlookedatme.“Wehavetogetoutofhere.”“YouthinkIwanttobeinthegirls’restroom?”“Imeantheship,Percy!Wehavetogetofftheship.”“Smellsbad,”Tysonagreed.“Anddogseatalltheeggs.Annabethisright.Wemustleavethe

restroomandship.”

Ishuddered.IfAnnabethandTysonwereactuallyagreeingaboutsomething,IfiguredI’dbetterlisten.

ThenIheardanothervoiceoutside—onethatchilledmeworsethananymonster’s.“—onlyamatteroftime.Don’tpushme,Agrius!”ItwasLuke,beyondadoubt.Icouldneverforgethisvoice.“I’mnotpushingyou!”anotherguygrowled.HisvoicewasdeeperandevenangrierthanLuke’s.

“I’mjustsaying,ifthisgambledoesn’tpayoff—”“It’llpayoff,”Lukesnapped.“They’lltakethebait.Now,come,we’vegottogettotheadmiralty

suiteandcheckonthecasket.”Theirvoicesrecededdownthecorridor.Tysonwhimpered.“Leavenow?”AnnabethandIexchangedlooksandcametoasilentagreement.“Wecan’t,”ItoldTyson.“WehavetofindoutwhatLukeisupto,”Annabethagreed.“Andifpossible,we’regoingtobeat

himup,bindhiminchains,anddraghimtoMountOlympus.”

NINE

IHAVETHEWORSTFAMILYREUNIONEVER

Annabethvolunteeredtogoalonesinceshehadthecapofinvisibility,butIconvincedheritwastoodangerous.Eitherweallwenttogether,ornobodywent.

“Nobody!”Tysonvoted.“Please?”Butintheendhecamealong,nervouslychewingonhishugefingernails.Westoppedatourcabin

longenoughtogatherourstuff.Wefiguredwhateverhappened,wewouldnotbestayinganothernightaboardthezombiecruiseship,eveniftheydidhavemillion-dollarbingo.ImadesureRiptidewasinmypocketandthevitaminsandthermosfromHermeswereatthetopofmybag.Ididn’twantTysontocarryeverything,butheinsisted,andAnnabethtoldmenottoworryaboutit.TysoncouldcarrythreefullduffelbagsoverhisshoulderaseasilyasIcouldcarryabackpack.

Wesneakedthroughthecorridors,followingtheship’sYOUAREHEREsignstowardtheadmiraltysuite.Annabethscoutedaheadinvisibly.Wehidwheneversomeonepassedby,butmostofthepeoplewesawwerejustglassy-eyedzombiepassengers.

Aswecameupthestairstodeckthirteen,wheretheadmiraltysuitewassupposedtobe,Annabethhissed,

“Hide!”andshovedusintoasupplycloset.Iheardacoupleofguyscomingdownthehall.“YouseethatAethiopiandrakoninthecargohold?”oneofthemsaid.Theotherlaughed.“Yeah,it’sawesome.”Annabethwasstillinvisible,butshesqueezedmyarmhard.IgotafeelingIshouldknowthatsecond

guy’svoice.“Iheartheygottwomorecoming,”thefamiliarvoicesaid.“Theykeeparrivingatthisrate,oh,man

—nocontest!”Thevoicesfadeddownthecorridor.“ThatwasChrisRodriguez!”Annabethtookoffhercapandturnedvisible.“Youremember—from

CabinEleven.”IsortofrecalledChrisfromthesummerbefore.Hewasoneofthoseundeterminedcamperswhogot

stuckintheHermescabinbecausehisOlympiandadormomneverclaimedhim.NowthatIthoughtaboutit,IrealizedIhadn’tseenChrisatcampthissummer.“What’sanotherhalf-blooddoinghere?”

Annabethshookherhead,clearlytroubled.Wekeptgoingdownthecorridor.Ididn’tneedmapsanymoretoknowIwasgettingclosetoLuke.I

sensedsomethingcoldandunpleasant—thepresenceofevil.“Percy.”Annabethstoppedsuddenly.“Look.”Shestoodinfrontofaglasswalllookingdownintothemultistorycanyonthatranthroughthemiddle

oftheship.AtthebottomwasthePromenade—amallfullofshops—butthat’snotwhathadcaughtAnnabeth’sattention.

Agroupofmonstershadassembledinfrontofthecandystore:adozenLaistrygoniangiantsliketheoneswho’dattackedmewithdodgeballs,twohellhounds,andafewevenstrangercreatures—humanoidfemaleswithtwinserpenttailsinsteadoflegs.

“ScythianDracaenae,”Annabethwhispered.“Dragonwomen.”ThemonstersmadeasemicirclearoundayoungguyinGreekarmorwhowashackingonastraw

dummy.AlumpformedinmythroatwhenIrealizedthedummywaswearinganorangeCampHalf-BloodT-shirt.Aswewatched,theguyinarmorstabbedthedummythroughitsbellyandrippedupward.Strawfleweverywhere.Themonsterscheeredandhowled.

Annabethsteppedawayfromthewindow.Herfacewasashen.“Comeon,”Itoldher,tryingtosoundbraverthanIfelt.“ThesoonerwefindLukethebetter.”Attheendofthehallwayweredoubleoakdoorsthatlookedliketheymustleadsomewhere

important.Whenwewerethirtyfeetaway,Tysonstopped.“Voicesinside.”“Youcanhearthatfar?”Iasked.Tysonclosedhiseyelikehewasconcentratinghard.Thenhisvoicechanged,becomingahusky

approximationofLuke’s.“—theprophecyourselves.Thefoolswon’tknowwhichwaytoturn.”BeforeIcouldreact,Tyson’svoicechangedagain,becomingdeeperandgruffer,liketheotherguy

we’dheardtalkingtoLukeoutsidethecafeteria.“Youreallythinktheoldhorsemanisgoneforgood?”TysonlaughedLuke’slaugh.“Theycan’ttrusthim.Notwiththeskeletonsinhiscloset.The

poisoningofthetreewasthefinalstraw.”Annabethshivered.“Stopthat,Tyson!Howdoyoudothat?It’screepy.”Tysonopenedhiseyeandlookedpuzzled.“Justlistening.”“Keepgoing,”Isaid.“Whatelsearetheysaying?”Tysonclosedhiseyeagain.Hehissedinthegruffman’svoice:“Quiet!”ThenLuke’svoice,whispering:“Areyousure?”“Yes,”Tysonsaidinthegruffvoice.“Rightoutside.”Toolate,Irealizedwhatwashappening.Ijusthadtimetosay,“Run!”whenthedoorsofthestateroomburstopenandtherewasLuke,flanked

bytwohairygiantsarmedwithjavelins,theirbronzetipsaimedrightatourchests.“Well,”Lukesaidwithacrookedsmile.“Ifitisn’tmytwofavoritecousins.Comerightin.”

Thestateroomwasbeautiful,anditwashorrible.Thebeautifulpart:Hugewindowscurvedalongthebackwall,lookingoutoverthesternoftheship.

Greenseaandblueskystretchedallthewaytothehorizon.APersianrugcoveredthefloor.Twoplushsofasoccupiedthemiddleoftheroom,withacanopiedbedinonecornerandamahoganydiningtableintheother.Thetablewasloadedwithfood—pizzaboxes,bottlesofsoda,andastackofroastbeefsandwichesonasilverplatter.

Thehorriblepart:Onavelvetdaisatthebackoftheroomlayaten-foot-longgoldencasket.Asarcophagus,engravedwithAncientGreekscenesofcitiesinflamesandheroesdyinggrislydeaths.Despitethesunlightstreamingthroughthewindows,thecasketmadethewholeroomfeelcold.

“Well,”Lukesaid,spreadinghisarmsproudly.“AlittlenicerthanCabinEleven,huh?”He’dchangedsincethelastsummer.InsteadofBermudashortsandaT-shirt,heworeabutton-down

shirt,khakipants,andleatherloafers.Hissandyhair,whichusedtobesounruly,wasnowclippedshort.

Helookedlikeanevilmalemodel,showingoffwhatthefashionablecollege-agevillainwaswearingtoHarvardthisyear.

Hestillhadthescarunderhiseye—ajaggedwhitelinefromhisbattlewithadragon.Andproppedagainstthesofawashismagicalsword,Backbiter,glintingstrangelywithitshalf-steel,half-Celestialbronzebladethatcouldkillbothmortalsandmonsters.

“Sit,”hetoldus.Hewavedhishandandthreediningchairsscootedthemselvesintothecenteroftheroom.

Noneofussat.Luke’slargefriendswerestillpointingtheirjavelinsatus.Theylookedliketwins,buttheyweren’t

human.Theystoodabouteightfeettall,foronething,andworeonlybluejeans,probablybecausetheirenormouschestswerealreadyshag-carpetedwiththickbrownfur.Theyhadclawsforfingernails,feetlikepaws.Theirnosesweresnoutlike,andtheirteethwereallpointedcanines.

“Wherearemymanners?”Lukesaidsmoothly.“Thesearemyassistants,AgriusandOreius.Perhapsyou’veheardofthem.”

Isaidnothing.Despitethejavelinspointedatme,itwasn’tthebeartwinswhoscaredme.I’dimaginedmeetingLukeagainmanytimessincehe’dtriedtokillmelastsummer.I’dpictured

myselfboldlystandinguptohim,challenginghimtoaduel.Butnowthatwewereface-to-face,Icouldbarelystopmyhandsfromshaking.

“Youdon’tknowAgriusandOreius’sstory?”Lukeasked.“Theirmother...well,it’ssad,really.Aphroditeorderedtheyoungwomantofallinlove.SherefusedandrantoArtemisforhelp.Artemisletherbecomeoneofhermaidenhuntresses,butAphroditegotherrevenge.Shebewitchedtheyoungwomanintofallinginlovewithabear.WhenArtemisfoundout,sheabandonedthegirlindisgust.Typicalofthegods,wouldn’tyousay?Theyfightwithoneanotherandthepoorhumansgetcaughtinthemiddle.Thegirl’stwinsonshere,AgriusandOreius,havenoloveforOlympus.Theylikehalf-bloodswellenough,though...”

“Forlunch,”Agriusgrowled.HisgruffvoicewastheoneI’dheardtalkingwithLukeearlier.“Hehe!Hehe!”HisbrotherOreiuslaughed,lickinghisfur-linedlips.Hekeptlaughinglikehewas

havinganasthmaticfituntilLukeandAgriusbothstaredathim.“Shutup,youidiot!”Agriusgrowled.“Gopunishyourself!”Oreiuswhimpered.Hetrudgedovertothecorneroftheroom,slumpedontoastool,andbangedhis

foreheadagainstthediningtable,makingthesilverplatesrattle.Lukeactedlikethiswasperfectlynormalbehavior.Hemadehimselfcomfortableonthesofaand

proppedhisfeetuponthecoffeetable.“Well,Percy,weletyousurviveanotheryear.Ihopeyouappreciatedit.How’syourmom?How’sschool?”

“YoupoisonedThalia’stree.”Lukesighed.“Righttothepoint,eh?Okay,sureIpoisonedthetree.Sowhat?”“Howcouldyou?”AnnabethsoundedsoangryIthoughtshe’dexplode.“Thaliasavedyourlife!Our

lives!Howcouldyoudishonorher—”“Ididn’tdishonorher!”Lukesnapped.“Thegodsdishonoredher,Annabeth!IfThaliawerealive,

she’dbeonmyside.”“Liar!”“Ifyouknewwhatwascoming,you’dunderstand—”

“Iunderstandyouwanttodestroythecamp!”sheyelled.“You’reamonster!”Lukeshookhishead.“Thegodshaveblindedyou.Can’tyouimagineaworldwithoutthem,

Annabeth?Whatgoodisthatancienthistoryyoustudy?Threethousandyearsofbaggage!TheWestisrottentothecore.Ithastobedestroyed.Joinme!Wecanstarttheworldanew.Wecoulduseyourintelligence,Annabeth.”

“Becauseyouhavenoneofyourown!”Hiseyesnarrowed.“Iknowyou,Annabeth.Youdeservebetterthantaggingalongonsomehopeless

questtosavethecamp.Half-BloodHillwillbeoverrunbymonsterswithinthemonth.Theheroeswhosurvivewillhavenochoicebuttojoinusorbehuntedtoextinction.Youreallywanttobeonalosingteam...withcompanylikethis?”LukepointedatTyson.

“Hey!”Isaid.“TravelingwithaCyclops,”Lukechided.“TalkaboutdishonoringThalia’smemory!I’msurprised

atyou,Annabeth.Youofallpeople—”“Stopit!”sheshouted.Ididn’tknowwhatLukewastalkingabout,butAnnabethburiedherheadinherhandslikeshewas

abouttocry.“Leaveheralone,”Isaid.“AndleaveTysonoutthis.”Lukelaughed.“Oh,yeah,Iheard.Yourfatherclaimedhim.”Imusthavelookedsurprised,becauseLukesmiled.“Yes,Percy,Iknowallaboutthat.Andabout

yourplantofindtheFleece.Whatwerethosecoordinates,again...30,31,75,12?Yousee,Istillhavefriendsatcampwhokeepmeposted.”

“Spies,youmean.”Heshrugged.“Howmanyinsultsfromyourfathercanyoustand,Percy?Youthinkhe’sgratefulto

you?YouthinkPoseidoncaresforyouanymorethanhecaresforthismonster?”Tysonclenchedhisfistsandmadearumblingsounddowninhisthroat.Lukejustchuckled.“Thegodsaresousingyou,Percy.Doyouhaveanyideawhat’sinstoreforyou

ifyoureachyoursixteenthbirthday?HasChironeventoldyoutheprophecy?”IwantedtogetinLuke’sfaceandtellhimoff,butasusual,heknewjusthowtothrowmeoff

balance.Sixteenthbirthday?Imean,IknewChironhadreceivedaprophecyfromtheOraclemanyyearsago.Iknewpartofit

wasaboutme.But,ifIreachedmysixteenthbirthday?Ididn’tlikethesoundofthat.“IknowwhatIneedtoknow,”Imanaged.“Like,whomyenemiesare.”“Thenyou’reafool.”Tysonsmashedthenearestdiningchairtosplinters.“Percyisnotafool!”BeforeIcouldstophim,hechargedLuke.HisfistscamedowntowardLuke’shead—adouble

overheadblowthatwould’veknockedaholeintitanium—butthebeartwinsintercepted.TheyeachcaughtoneofTyson’sarmsandstoppedhimcold.TheypushedhimbackandTysonstumbled.Hefelltothecarpetsohardthedeckshook.

“Toobad,Cyclops,”Lukesaid.“Lookslikemygrizzlyfriendstogetheraremorethanamatchforyourstrength.MaybeIshouldletthem—”

“Luke,”Icutin.“Listentome.Yourfathersentus.”

Hisfaceturnedthecolorofpepperoni.“Don’t—even—mentionhim.”“Hetoldustotakethisboat.Ithoughtitwasjustforaride,buthesentusheretofindyou.Hetold

mehewon’tgiveuponyou,nomatterhowangryyouare.”“Angry?”Lukeroared.“Giveuponme?Heabandonedme,Percy!IwantOlympusdestroyed!

Everythronecrushedtorubble!YoutellHermesit’sgoingtohappen,too.Eachtimeahalf-bloodjoinsus,theOlympiansgrowweakerandwegrowstronger.Hegrowsstronger.”Lukepointedtothegoldsarcophagus.

Theboxcreepedmeout,butIwasdeterminednottoshowit.“So?”Idemanded.“What’ssospecial...”

Thenithitme,whatmightbeinsidethesarcophagus.Thetemperatureintheroomseemedtodroptwentydegrees.“Whoa,youdon’tmean—”

“Heisre-forming,”Lukesaid.“Littlebylittle,we’recallinghislifeforceoutofthepit.Witheveryrecruitwhopledgesourcause,anothersmallpieceappears—”

“That’sdisgusting!”Annabethsaid.Lukesneeredather.“YourmotherwasbornfromZeus’ssplitskull,Annabeth.Iwouldn’ttalk.Soon

therewillbeenoughofthetitanlordsothatwecanmakehimwholeagain.Wewillpiecetogetheranewbodyforhim,aworkworthyoftheforgesofHephaestus.”

“You’reinsane,”Annabethsaid.“Joinusandyou’llberewarded.Wehavepowerfulfriends,sponsorsrichenoughtobuythiscruise

shipandmuchmore.Percy,yourmotherwillneverhavetoworkagain.Youcanbuyheramansion.Youcanhavepower,fame—whateveryouwant.Annabeth,youcanrealizeyourdreamofbeinganarchitect.Youcanbuildamonumenttolastathousandyears.Atempletothelordsofthenextage!”

“GotoTartarus,”shesaid.Lukesighed.“Ashame.”HepickedupsomethingthatlookedlikeaTVremoteandpressedaredbutton.Withinsecondsthe

doorofthestateroomopenedandtwouniformedcrewmemberscamein,armedwithnightsticks.Theyhadthesameglassy-eyedlookastheothermortalsI’dseen,butIhadafeelingthiswouldn’tmakethemanylessdangerousinafight.

“Ah,good,security,”Lukesaid,“I’mafraidwehavesomestowaways.”“Yes,sir,”theysaiddreamily.LuketurnedtoOreius.“It’stimetofeedtheAethiopiandrakon.Takethesefoolsbelowandshow

themhowit’sdone.”Oreiusgrinnedstupidly.“Hehe!Hehe!”“Letmego,too,”Agriusgrumbled.“Mybrotherisworthless.ThatCyclops—”“Isnothreat,”Lukesaid.Heglancedbackatthegoldencasket,asifsomethingweretroublinghim.

“Agrius,stayhere.Wehaveimportantmatterstodiscuss.”“But—”“Oreius,don’tfailme.Stayintheholdtomakesurethedrakonisproperlyfed.”Oreiusproddeduswithhisjavelinandherdedusoutofthestateroom,followedbythetwohuman

securityguards.

AsIwalkeddownthecorridorwithOrieus’sjavelinpokingmeintheback,IthoughtaboutwhatLukehad

said—thatthebeartwinstogetherwereamatchforTyson’sstrength.Butmaybeseparately...Weexitedthecorridoramidshipsandwalkedacrossanopendecklinedwithlifeboats.Iknewthe

shipwellenoughtorealizethiswouldbeourlastlookatsunlight.Oncewegottotheotherside,we’dtaketheelevatordownintothehold,andthatwouldbeit.

IlookedatTysonandsaid,“Now.”Thankthegods,heunderstood.HeturnedandsmackedOreiusthirtyfeetbackwardintothe

swimmingpool,rightintothemiddleofthezombietouristfamily.“Ah!”thekidsyelledinunison.“Wearenothavingablastinthepool!”Oneofthesecurityguardsdrewhisnightstick,butAnnabethknockedthewindoutofhimwitha

well-placedkick.Theotherguardranforthenearestalarmbox.“Stophim!”Annabethyelled,butitwastoolate.JustbeforeIbangedhimonheadwithadeckchair,hehitthealarm.Redlightsflashed.Sirenswailed.“Lifeboat!”Iyelled.Weranforthenearestone.Bythetimewegotthecoveroff,monstersandmoresecuritymenwereswarmingthedeck,pushing

asidetouristsandwaiterswithtraysoftropicaldrinks.AguyinGreekarmordrewhisswordandcharged,butslippedinapuddleofpiñacolada.Laistrygonianarchersassembledonthedeckaboveus,notchingarrowsintheirenormousbows.

“Howdoyoulaunchthisthing?”screamedAnnabeth.Ahellhoundleapedatme,butTysonslammeditasidewithafireextinguisher.“Getin!”Iyelled.IuncappedRiptideandslashedthefirstvolleyofarrowsoutoftheair.Any

secondwewouldbeoverwhelmed.Thelifeboatwashangingoverthesideoftheship,highabovethewater.AnnabethandTysonwere

havingnoluckwiththereleasepulley.Ijumpedinbesidethem.“Holdon!”Iyelled,andIcuttheropes.Ashowerofarrowswhistledoverourheadsaswefree-felltowardtheocean.

TEN

WEHITCHARIDEWITHDEADCONFEDERATES

“Thermos!”Iscreamedaswehurtledtowardthewater.“What?”Annabethmust’vethoughtI’dlostmymind.Shewasholdingontotheboatstrapsfordear

life,herhairflyingstraightuplikeatorch.ButTysonunderstood.HemanagedtoopenmyduffelbagandtakeoutHermes’smagicalthermos

withoutlosinghisgriponitortheboat.Arrowsandjavelinswhistledpastus.IgrabbedthethermosandhopedIwasdoingtherightthing.“Hangon!”“Iamhangingon!”Annabethyelled.“Tighter!”Ihookedmyfeetundertheboat’sinflatablebench,andasTysongrabbedAnnabethandmebythe

backsofourshirts,Igavethethermoscapaquarterturn.Instantly,awhitesheetofwindjettedoutofthethermosandpropelledussideways,turningour

downwardplummetintoaforty-five-degreecrashlanding.Thewindseemedtolaughasitshotfromthethermos,likeitwasgladtobefree.Aswehitthe

ocean,webumpedonce,twice,skippinglikeastone,thenwewerewhizzingalonglikeaspeedboat,saltsprayinourfacesandnothingbutseaahead.

Iheardawailofoutragefromtheshipbehindus,butwewerealreadyoutofweaponrange.ThePrincessAndromedafadedtothesizeofawhitetoyboatinthedistance,andthenitwasgone.

Asweracedoverthesea,AnnabethandItriedtosendanIris-messagetoChiron.WefigureditwasimportantweletsomebodyknowwhatLukewasdoing,andwedidn’tknowwhoelsetotrust.

Thewindfromthethermosstirredupaniceseaspraythatmadearainbowinthesunlight—perfectforanIrismessage—butourconnectionwasstillpoor.WhenAnnabeththrewagolddrachmaintothemistandprayedfortherainbowgoddesstoshowusChiron,hisfaceappearedallright,buttherewassomekindofweirdstrobelightflashinginthebackgroundandrockmusicblaring,likehewasatadanceclub.

Wetoldhimaboutsneakingawayfromcamp,andLukeandthePrincessAndromedaandthegoldenboxforKronos’sremains,butbetweenthenoiseonhisendandtherushingwindandwateronourend,I’mnotsurehowmuchheheard.

“Percy,”Chironyelled,“youhavetowatchoutfor—”Hisvoicewasdrownedoutbyloudshoutingbehindhim—abunchofvoiceswhoopingituplike

Comanchewarriors.“What?”Iyelled.“Cursemyrelatives!”Chironduckedasaplateflewoverhisheadandshatteredsomewhereoutof

sight.“Annabeth,youshouldn’thaveletPercyleavecamp!ButifyoudogettheFleece—”“Yeah,baby!”somebodybehindChironyelled.“Woohoooooo!”

Themusicgotcrankedup,subwooferssolouditmadeourboatvibrate.“—Miami,”Chironwasyelling.“I’lltrytokeepwatch—”Ourmistyscreensmashedapartlikesomeoneontheothersidehadthrownabottleatit,andChiron

wasgone.

Anhourlaterwespottedland—alongstretchofbeachlinedwithhigh-risehotels.Thewaterbecamecrowdedwithfishingboatsandtankers.Acoastguardcruiserpassedonourstarboardside,thenturnedlikeitwantedasecondlook.Iguessitisn’teverydaytheyseeayellowlifeboatwithnoenginegoingahundredknotsanhour,mannedbythreekids.

“That’sVirginiaBeach!”Annabethsaidasweapproachedtheshoreline.“Ohmygods,howdidthePrincessAndromedatravelsofarovernight?That’slike—”

“Fivehundredandthirtynauticalmiles,”Isaid.Shestaredatme.“Howdidyouknowthat?”“I—I’mnotsure.”Annabeththoughtforamoment.“Percy,what’sourposition?”“36degrees,44minutesnorth,76degrees,2minuteswest,”Isaidimmediately.ThenIshookmy

head.“Whoa.HowdidIknowthat?”“Becauseofyourdad,”Annabethguessed.“Whenyou’reatsea,youhaveperfectbearings.Thatis

socool.”Iwasn’tsureaboutthat.Ididn’twanttobeahumanGPSunit.ButbeforeIcouldsayanything,Tyson

tappedmyshoulder.“Otherboatiscoming.”Ilookedback.Thecoastguardvesselwasdefinitelyonourtailnow.Itslightswereflashingandit

wasgainingspeed.“Wecan’tletthemcatchus,”Isaid.“They’llasktoomanyquestions.”“KeepgoingintoChesapeakeBay,”Annabethsaid.“Iknowaplacewecanhide.”Ididn’taskwhatshemeant,orhowsheknewtheareasowell.Iriskedlooseningthethermoscapa

littlemore,andafreshburstofwindsentusrocketingaroundthenortherntipofVirginiaBeachintoChesapeakeBay.Thecoastguardboatfellfartherandfartherbehind.Wedidn’tslowdownuntiltheshoresofthebaynarrowedoneitherside,andIrealizedwe’denteredthemouthofariver.

Icouldfeelthechangefromsaltwatertofreshwater.SuddenlyIwastiredandfrazzled,likeIwascomingdownoffasugarhigh.Ididn’tknowwhereIwasanymore,orwhichwaytosteertheboat.ItwasagoodthingAnnabethwasdirectingme.

“There,”shesaid.“Pastthatsandbar.”Weveeredintoaswampyareachokedwithmarshgrass.Ibeachedthelifeboatatthefootofagiantcypress.Vine-coveredtreesloomedaboveus.Insectschirredinthewoods.Theairwasmuggyandhot,and

steamcurledofftheriver.Basically,itwasn’tManhattan,andIdidn’tlikeit.“Comeon,”Annabethsaid.“It’sjustdownthebank.”“Whatis?”Iasked.“Justfollow.”Shegrabbedaduffelbag.“Andwe’dbettercovertheboat.Wedon’twanttodraw

attention.”Afterburyingthelifeboatwithbranches,TysonandIfollowedAnnabethalongtheshore,ourfeet

sinkinginredmud.Asnakeslitheredpastmyshoeanddisappearedintothegrass.“Notagoodplace,”Tysonsaid.Heswattedthemosquitoesthatwereformingabuffetlineonhis

arm.Afteranotherfewminutes,Annabethsaid,“Here.”AllIsawwasapatchofbrambles.ThenAnnabethmovedasideawovencircleofbranches,likea

door,andIrealizedIwaslookingintoacamouflagedshelter.Theinsidewasbigenoughforthree,evenwithTysonbeingthethird.Thewallswerewovenfrom

plantmaterial,likeaNativeAmericanhut,buttheylookedprettywaterproof.Stackedinthecornerwaseverythingyoucouldwantforacampout—sleepingbags,blankets,anicechest,andakerosenelamp.Thereweredemigodprovisions,too—bronzejavelintips,aquiverfullofarrows,anextrasword,andaboxofambrosia.Theplacesmelledmusty,likeithadbeenvacantforalongtime.

“Ahalf-bloodhideout.”IlookedatAnnabethinawe.“Youmadethisplace?”“ThaliaandI,”shesaidquietly.“AndLuke.”Thatshouldn’thavebotheredme.Imean,IknewThaliaandLukehadtakencareofAnnabethwhen

shewaslittle.Iknewthethreeofthemhadbeenrunawaystogether,hidingfrommonsters,survivingontheirownbeforeGroverfoundthemandtriedtogetthemtoHalf-BloodHill.ButwheneverAnnabethtalkedaboutthetimeshe’dspentwiththem,Ikindoffelt...Idon’tknow.Uncomfortable?

No.That’snottheword.Thewordwasjealous.“So...”Isaid.“Youdon’tthinkLukewilllookforushere?”Sheshookherhead.“Wemadeadozensafehouseslikethis.IdoubtLukeevenrememberswhere

theyare.Orcares.”Shethrewherselfdownontheblanketsandstartedgoingthroughherduffelbag.Herbodylanguage

madeitprettyclearshedidn’twanttotalk.“Um,Tyson?”Isaid.“Wouldyoumindscoutingaroundoutside?Like,lookforawilderness

conveniencestoreorsomething?”“Conveniencestore?”“Yeah,forsnacks.Powdereddonutsorsomething.Justdon’tgotoofar.”“Powdereddonuts,”Tysonsaidearnestly.“Iwilllookforpowdereddonutsinthewilderness.”He

headedoutsideandstartedcalling,“Here,donuts!”Oncehewasgone,IsatdownacrossfromAnnabeth.“Hey,I’msorryabout,youknow,seeingLuke.”“It’snotyourfault.”Sheunsheathedherknifeandstartedcleaningthebladewitharag.“Heletusgotooeasily,”Isaid.IhopedI’dbeenimaginingit,butAnnabethnodded.“Iwasthinkingthesamething.Whatwe

overheardhimsayaboutagamble,and‘they’lltakethebait’...Ithinkhewastalkingaboutus.”“TheFleeceisthebait?OrGrover?”Shestudiedtheedgeofherknife.“Idon’tknow,Percy.MaybehewantstheFleeceforhimself.

Maybehe’shopingwe’lldothehardworkandthenhecanstealitfromus.Ijustcan’tbelievehewouldpoisonthetree.”

“Whatdidhemean,”Iasked,“thatThaliawould’vebeenonhisside?”“He’swrong.”

“Youdon’tsoundsure.”Annabethglaredatme,andIstartedtowishIhadn’taskedheraboutthiswhileshewasholdinga

knife.“Percy,youknowwhoyouremindmeofmost?Thalia.Youguysaresomuchalikeit’sscary.Imean,

eitheryouwould’vebeenbestfriendsoryouwould’vestrangledeachother.”“Let’sgowith‘bestfriends.’”“Thaliagotangrywithherdadsometimes.Sodoyou.WouldyouturnagainstOlympusbecauseof

that?”Istaredatthequiverofarrowsinthecorner.“No.”“Okay,then.Neitherwouldshe.Luke’swrong.”Annabethstuckherknifebladeintothedirt.IwantedtoaskherabouttheprophecyLukehadmentionedandwhatithadtodowithmysixteenth

birthday.ButIfiguredshewouldn’ttellme.ChironhadmadeitprettyclearthatIwasn’tallowedtohearituntilthegodsdecidedotherwise.

“SowhatdidLukemeanaboutCyclopes?”Iasked.“Hesaidyouofallpeople—”“Iknowwhathesaid.He...hewastalkingabouttherealreasonThaliadied.”Iwaited,notsurewhattosay.Annabethdrewashakybreath.“YoucannevertrustaCyclops,Percy.Sixyearsago,onthenight

GroverwasleadingustoHalf-BloodHill—”Shewasinterruptedwhenthedoorofthehutcreakedopen.Tysoncrawledin.“Powdereddonuts!”hesaidproudly,holdingupapastrybox.Annabethstaredathim.“Wheredidyougetthat?We’reinthemiddleofthewilderness.There’s

nothingaroundfor—”“Fiftyfeet,”Tysonsaid.“MonsterDonutshop—justoverthehill!”

“Thisisbad,”Annabethmuttered.Wewerecrouchingbehindatree,staringatthedonutshopinthemiddleofthewoods.Itlooked

brandnew,withbrightlylitwindows,aparkingarea,andalittleroadleadingoffintotheforest,buttherewasnothingelsearound,andnocarsparkedinthelot.Wecouldseeoneemployeereadingamagazinebehindthecashregister.Thatwasit.Onthestore’smarquis,inhugeblacklettersthatevenIcouldread,itsaid:

MONSTERDONUTAcartoonogrewastakingabiteoutoftheOinMONSTER.Theplacesmelledgood,likefresh-

bakedchocolatedonuts.“Thisshouldn’tbehere,”Annabethwhispered.“It’swrong.”“What?”Iasked.“It’sadonutshop.”“Shhh!”“Whyarewewhispering?Tysonwentinandboughtadozen.Nothinghappenedtohim.”“He’samonster.”“Aw,c’mon,Annabeth.MonsterDonutdoesn’tmeanmonsters!It’sachain.We’vegottheminNew

York.”“Achain,”sheagreed.“Anddon’tyouthinkit’sstrangethatoneappearedimmediatelyafteryoutold

Tysontogetdonuts?Righthereinthemiddleofthewoods?”Ithoughtaboutit.Itdidseemalittleweird,but,Imean,donutshopsweren’trealhighonmylistof

sinisterforces.“Itcouldbeanest,”Annabethexplained.Tysonwhimpered.IdoubtheunderstoodwhatAnnabethwassayinganybetterthanIdid,buther

tonewasmakinghimnervous.He’dplowedthroughhalfadozendonutsfromhisboxandwasgettingpowderedsugaralloverhisface.

“Anestforwhat?”Iasked.“Haven’tyoueverwonderedhowfranchisestorespopupsofast?”sheasked.“Onedaythere’s

nothingandthenthenextday—boom,there’sanewburgerplaceoracoffeeshoporwhatever?Firstasinglestore,thentwo,thenfour—exactreplicasspreadingacrossthecountry?”

“Um,no.Neverthoughtaboutit.”“Percy,someofthechainsmultiplysofastbecausealltheirlocationsaremagicallylinkedtothelife

forceofamonster.SomechildrenofHermesfiguredouthowtodoitbackinthe1950s.Theybreed—”Shefroze.“What?”Idemanded.“Theybreedwhat?”“No—sudden—moves,”Annabethsaid,likeherlifedependedonit.“Veryslowly,turnaround.”ThenIheardit:ascrapingnoise,likesomethinglargedraggingitsbellythroughtheleaves.Iturnedandsawarhino-sizethingmovingthroughtheshadowsofthetrees.Itwashissing,itsfront

halfwrithinginalldifferentdirections.Icouldn’tunderstandwhatIwasseeingatfirst.ThenIrealizedthethinghadmultiplenecks—atleastseven,eachtoppedwithahissingreptilianhead.Itsskinwasleathery,andundereachneckitworeaplasticbibthatread:I’MAMONSTERDONUTKID!

Itookoutmyballpointpen,butAnnabethlockedeyeswithme—asilentwarning.Notyet.Iunderstood.Alotofmonstershaveterribleeyesight.ItwaspossibletheHydramightpassusby.

ButifIuncappedmyswordnow,thebronzeglowwouldcertainlygetitsattention.Wewaited.TheHydrawasonlyafewfeetaway.Itseemedtobesniffingthegroundandthetreeslikeitwas

huntingforsomething.ThenInoticedthattwooftheheadswererippingapartapieceofyellowcanvas—oneofourduffelbags.Thethinghadalreadybeentoourcampsite.Itwasfollowingourscent.

Myheartpounded.I’dseenastuffedHydra-headtrophyatcampbefore,butthatdidnothingtopreparemefortherealthing.Eachheadwasdiamond-shaped,likearattlesnake’s,butthemouthswerelinedwithjaggedrowsofsharkliketeeth.

Tysonwastrembling.Hesteppedbackandaccidentallysnappedatwig.Immediately,allsevenheadsturnedtowardusandhissed.

“Scatter!”Annabethyelled.Shedovetotheright.Irolledtotheleft.OneoftheHydraheadsspatanarcofgreenliquidthatshotpastmyshoulderand

splashedagainstanelm.Thetrunksmokedandbegantodisintegrate.ThewholetreetoppledstraighttowardTyson,whostillhadn’tmoved,petrifiedbythemonsterthatwasnowrightinfrontofhim.

“Tyson!”Itackledhimwithallmymight,knockinghimasidejustastheHydralungedandthetreecrashedontopoftwoofitsheads.

TheHydrastumbledbackward,yankingitsheadsfreethenwailinginoutrageatthefallentree.Allsevenheadsshotacid,andtheelmmeltedintoasteamingpoolofmuck.

“Move!”ItoldTyson.IrantoonesideanduncappedRiptide,hopingtodrawthemonster’sattention.

Itworked.Thesightofcelestialbronzeishatefultomostmonsters.Assoonasmyglowingbladeappeared,the

Hydrawhippedtowarditwithallitsheads,hissingandbaringitsteeth.Thegoodnews:Tysonwasmomentarilyoutofdanger.Thebadnews:Iwasabouttobemeltedinto

apuddleofgoo.Oneoftheheadssnappedatmeexperimentally.Withoutthinking,Iswungmysword.“No!”Annabethyelled.Toolate.IslicedtheHydra’sheadcleanoff.Itrolledawayintothegrass,leavingaflailingstump,

whichimmediatelystoppedbleedingandbegantoswelllikeaballoon.Inamatterofsecondsthewoundednecksplitintotwonecks,eachofwhichgrewafull-sizehead.

NowIwaslookingataneight-headedHydra.“Percy!”Annabethscolded.“YoujustopenedanotherMonsterDonutshopsomewhere!”Idodgedasprayofacid.“I’mabouttodieandyou’reworriedaboutthat?Howdowekillit?”“Fire!”Annabethsaid.“Wehavetohavefire!”Assoonasshesaidthat,Irememberedthestory.TheHydra’sheadswouldonlystopmultiplyingif

weburnedthestumpsbeforetheyregrew.That’swhatHeracleshaddone,anyway.Butwehadnofire.Ibackeduptowardriver.TheHydrafollowed.Annabethmovedinonmyleftandtriedtodistractoneoftheheads,parryingitsteethwithherknife,

butanotherheadswungsidewayslikeaclubandknockedherintothemuck.“Nohittingmyfriends!”Tysonchargedin,puttinghimselfbetweentheHydraandAnnabeth.As

Annabethgottoherfeet,Tysonstartedsmashingatthemonsterheadswithhisfistssofastitremindedmeofthewhack-a-molegameatthearcade.ButevenTysoncouldn’tfendofftheHydraforever.

Wekeptinchingbackward,dodgingacidsplashesanddeflectingsnappingheadswithoutcuttingthemoff,butIknewwewereonlypostponingourdeaths.Eventually,wewouldmakeamistakeandthethingwouldkillus.

ThenIheardastrangesound—achug-chug-chugthatatfirstIthoughtwasmyheartbeat.Itwassopowerfulitmadetheriverbankshake.

“What’sthatnoise?”Annabethshouted,keepinghereyesontheHydra.“Steamengine,”Tysonsaid.“What?”IduckedastheHydraspatacidovermyhead.Thenfromtheriverbehindus,afamiliarfemalevoiceshouted:“There!Preparethethirty-two-

pounder!”Ididn’tdarelookawayfromtheHydra,butifthatwaswhoIthoughtitwasbehindus,Ifiguredwe

nowhadenemiesontwofronts.Agravellymalevoicesaid,“They’retooclose,m’lady!”“Damntheheroes!”thegirlsaid.“Fullsteamahead!”“Aye,m’lady.”“Fireatwill,Captain!”AnnabethunderstoodwhatwashappeningasplitsecondbeforeIdid.Sheyelled,“Hitthedirt!”and

wedoveforthegroundasanearth-shatteringBOOMechoedfromtheriver.Therewasaflashoflight,acolumnofsmoke,andtheHydraexplodedrightinfrontofus,showeringuswithnastygreenslimethatvaporizedassoonasithit,thewaymonstergutstendtodo.

“Gross!”screamedAnnabeth.“Steamship!”yelledTyson.Istood,coughingfromthecloudofgunpowdersmokethatwasrollingacrossthebanks.ChuggingtowardusdowntheriverwasthestrangestshipI’deverseen.Itrodelowinthewaterlike

asubmarine,itsdeckplatedwithiron.Inthemiddlewasatrapezoid-shapedcasematewithslatsoneachsideforcannons.Aflagwavedfromthetop—awildboarandspearonabloodredfield.Liningthedeckwerezombiesingrayuniforms—deadsoldierswithshimmeringfacesthatonlypartiallycoveredtheirskulls,liketheghoulsI’dseenintheUnderworldguardingHades’spalace.

Theshipwasanironclad.ACivilWarbattlecruiser.Icouldjustmakeoutthenamealongtheprowinmoss-coveredletters:CSSBirmingham.

Andstandingnexttothesmokingcannonthathadalmostkilledus,wearingfullGreekbattlearmor,wasClarisse.

“Losers,”shesneered.“ButIsupposeIhavetorescueyou.Comeaboard.”

ELEVEN

CLARISSEBLOWSUPEVERYTHING

“Youareinsomuchtrouble,”Clarissesaid.We’djustfinishedashiptourwedidn’twant,throughdarkroomsovercrowdedwithdeadsailors.

We’dseenthecoalbunker,theboilersandengine,whichhuffedandgroanedlikeitwouldexplodeanyminute.We’dseenthepilothouseandthepowdermagazineandgunnerydeck(Clarisse’sfavorite)withtwoDahlgrensmoothborecannonsontheportandstarboardsidesandaBrookenine-inchrifledgunforeandaft—allspeciallyrefittedtofirecelestialbronzecannonballs.

Everywherewewent,deadConfederatesailorsstaredatus,theirghostlybeardedfacesshimmeringovertheirskulls.TheyapprovedofAnnabethbecauseshetoldthemshewasfromVirginia.Theywereinterestedinme,too,becausemynamewasJackson—liketheSoutherngeneral—butthenIruineditbytellingthemIwasfromNewYork.TheyallhissedandmutteredcursesaboutYankees.

Tysonwasterrifiedofthem.Allthroughthetour,heinsistedAnnabethholdhishand,whichshedidn’tlooktoothrilledabout.

Finally,wewereescortedtodinner.TheCSSBirminghamcaptain’squarterswereaboutthesizeofawalk-incloset,butstillmuchbiggerthananyotherroomonboard.Thetablewassetwithwhitelinenandchina.Peanutbutterandjellysandwiches,potatochips,andDrPepperswereservedbyskeletalcrewmen.Ididn’twanttoeatanythingservedbyghosts,butmyhungeroverruledmyfear.

“Tantalusexpelledyouforeternity,”Clarissetoldussmugly.“Mr.Dsaidifanyofyoushowyourfaceatcampagain,he’llturnyouintosquirrelsandrunyouoverwithhisSUV.”

“Didtheygiveyouthisship?”Iasked.“’Coursenot.Myfatherdid.”“Ares?”Clarissesneered.“Youthinkyourdaddyistheonlyonewithseapower?Thespiritsonthelosing

sideofeverywaroweatributetoAres.That’stheircurseforbeingdefeated.Iprayedtomyfatherforanavaltransportandhereitis.TheseguyswilldoanythingItellthem.Won’tyou,Captain?”

Thecaptainstoodbehindherlookingstiffandangry.Hisglowinggreeneyesfixedmewithahungrystare.“Ifitmeansanendtothisinfernalwar,ma’am,peaceatlast,we’lldoanything.Destroyanyone.”

Clarissesmiled.“Destroyanyone.Ilikethat.”Tysongulped.“Clarisse,”Annabethsaid,“LukemightbeaftertheFleece,too.Wesawhim.He’sgotthe

coordinatesandhe’sheadingsouth.Hehasacruiseshipfullofmonsters—”“Good!I’llblowhimoutofthewater.”“Youdon’tunderstand,”Annabethsaid.“Wehavetocombineforces.Letushelpyou—”“No!”Clarissepoundedthetable.“Thisismyquest,smartgirl!FinallyIgettobethehero,andyou

twowillnotstealmychance.”“Whereareyourcabinmates?”Iasked.“Youwereallowedtotaketwofriendswithyou,weren’t

you?”“Theydidn’t...Iletthemstaybehind.Toprotectthecamp.”“Youmeaneventhepeopleinyourowncabinwouldn’thelpyou?”“Shutup,Prissy!Idon’tneedthem!Oryou!”“Clarisse,”Isaid,“Tantalusisusingyou.Hedoesn’tcareaboutthecamp.He’dlovetoseeit

destroyed.He’ssettingyouuptofail.”“No!Idon’tcarewhattheOracle—”Shestoppedherself.“What?”Isaid.“WhatdidtheOracletellyou?”“Nothing.”Clarisse’searsturnedpink.“AllyouneedtoknowisthatI’mfinishingthisquestand

you’renothelping.Ontheotherhand,Ican’tletyougo...”“Sowe’reprisoners?”Annabethasked.“Guests.Fornow.”ClarisseproppedherfeetuponthewhitelinentableclothandopenedanotherDr

Pepper.“Captain,takethembelow.Assignthemhammocksontheberthdeck.Iftheydon’tmindtheirmanners,showthemhowwedealwithenemyspies.”

ThedreamcameassoonasIfellasleep.Groverwassittingathisloom,desperatelyunravelinghisweddingtrain,whentheboulderdoor

rolledasideandtheCyclopsbellowed,“Aha!”Groveryelped.“Dear!Ididn’t—youweresoquiet!”“Unraveling!”Polyphemusroared.“Sothat’stheproblem!”“Oh,no.I—Iwasn’t—”“Come!”PolyphemusgrabbedGroveraroundthewaistandhalfcarried,halfdraggedhimthrough

thetunnelsofthecave.Groverstruggledtokeephishighheelsonhishooves.Hisveilkepttiltingonhishead,threateningtocomeoff.

TheCyclopspulledhimintoawarehouse-sizecaverndecoratedwithsheepjunk.Therewasawool-coveredLa-Z-Boyreclinerandawool-coveredtelevisionset,crudebookshelvesloadedwithsheepcollectibles—coffeemugsshapedlikesheepfaces,plasterfigurinesofsheep,sheepboardgames,andpicturebooksandactionfigures.Thefloorwaslitteredwithpilesofsheepbones,andotherbonesthatdidn’tlookexactlylikesheep—thebonesofsatyrswho’dcometotheislandlookingforPan.

PolyphemussetGroverdownonlylongenoughtomoveanotherhugeboulder.Daylightstreamedintothecave,andGroverwhimperedwithlonging.Freshair!

TheCyclopsdraggedhimoutsidetoahilltopoverlookingthemostbeautifulislandI’deverseen.Itwasshapedkindoflikeasaddlecutinhalfbyanax.Therewerelushgreenhillsoneitherside

andawidevalleyinthemiddle,splitbyadeepchasmthatwasspannedbyaropebridge.Beautifulstreamsrolledtotheedgeofthecanyonanddroppedoffinrainbow-coloredwaterfalls.Parrotsflutteredinthetrees.Pinkandpurpleflowersbloomedonthebushes.Hundredsofsheepgrazedinthemeadows,theirwoolglintingstrangelylikecopperandsilvercoins.

Andatthecenteroftheisland,rightnexttotheropebridge,wasanenormoustwistedoaktreewithsomethingglitteringinitslowestbough.

TheGoldenFleece.Eveninadream,Icouldfeelitspowerradiatingacrosstheisland,makingthegrassgreener,the

flowersmorebeautiful.Icouldalmostsmellthenaturemagicatwork.Icouldonlyimaginehowpowerfulthescentwouldbeforasatyr.

Groverwhimpered.“Yes,”Polyphemussaidproudly.“Seeoverthere?Fleeceistheprizeofmycollection!Stoleitfrom

heroeslongago,andeversince—freefood!Satyrscomefromallovertheworld,likemothstoflame.Satyrsgoodeating!Andnow—”

Polyphemusscoopedupawickedsetofbronzeshears.Groveryelped,butPolyphemusjustpickedupthenearestsheeplikeitwasastuffedanimaland

shavedoffitswool.HehandedafluffymassofittoGrover.“Putthatonthespinningwheel!”hesaidproudly.“Magic.Cannotbeunraveled.”“Oh...well...”“PoorHoneypie!”Polyphemusgrinned.“Badweaver.Ha-ha!Nottoworry.Thatthreadwillsolve

problem.Finishweddingtrainbytomorrow!”“Isn’tthat...thoughtfulofyou!”“Hehe.”“But—but,dear,”Grovergulped,“whatifsomeoneweretorescue—Imeanattackthisisland?”

Groverlookedstraightatme,andIknewhewasaskingformybenefit.“Whatwouldkeepthemfrommarchingrightupheretoyourcave?”

“Wifeyscared!Socute!Nottoworry.Polyphemushasstate-of-the-artsecuritysystem.Havetogetthroughmypets.”

“Pets?”Groverlookedacrosstheisland,buttherewasnothingtoseeexceptsheepgrazingpeacefullyinthe

meadows.“Andthen,”Polyphemusgrowled,“theywouldhavetogetthroughme!”Hepoundedhisfistagainstthenearestrock,whichcrackedandsplitinhalf.“Now,come!”he

shouted.“Backtothecave.”Groverlookedaboutreadytocry—soclosetofreedom,butsohopelesslyfar.Tearswelledinhis

eyesastheboulderdoorrolledshut,sealinghimonceagaininthestinkytorch-litdanknessoftheCyclops’scave.

Iwoketoalarmbellsringingthroughouttheship.Thecaptain’sgravellyvoice:“Allhandsondeck!FindLadyClarisse!Whereisthatgirl?”Thenhisghostlyfaceappearedaboveme.“Getup,Yankee.Yourfriendsarealreadyabove.Weare

approachingtheentrance.”“Theentrancetowhat?”Hegavemeaskeletalsmile.“TheSeaofMonsters,ofcourse.”

IstuffedmyfewbelongingsthathadsurvivedtheHydraintoasailor’scanvasknapsackandslungitovermyshoulder.IhadasneakingsuspicionthatonewayoranotherIwouldnotbespendinganothernightaboardtheCSSBirmingham.

Iwasonmywayupstairswhensomethingmademefreeze.Apresencenearby—somethingfamiliarandunpleasant.Fornoparticularreason,Ifeltlikepickingafight.IwantedtopunchadeadConfederate.ThelasttimeI’dfeltlikethatkindofanger...

Insteadofgoingup,Icrepttotheedgeoftheventilationgrateandpeereddownintotheboilerdeck.Clarissewasstandingrightbelowme,talkingtoanimagethatshimmeredinthesteamfromthe

boilers—amuscularmaninblackleatherbikerclothes,withamilitaryhaircut,red-tintedsunglasses,andaknifestrappedtohisside.

Myfistsclenched.ItwasmyleastfavoriteOlympian:Ares,thegodofwar.“Idon’twantexcuses,littlegirl!”hegrowled.“Y-yes,father,”Clarissemumbled.“Youdon’twanttoseememad,doyou?”“No,father.”“No,father,”Aresmimicked.“You’repathetic.Ishould’veletoneofmysonstakethisquest.”“I’llsucceed!”Clarissepromised,hervoicetrembling.“I’llmakeyouproud.”“You’dbetter,”hewarned.“Youaskedmeforthisquest,girl.IfyouletthatslimeballJacksonkid

stealitfromyou—”“ButtheOraclesaid—”“IDON’TCAREWHATITSAID!”Aresbellowedwithsuchforcethathisimageshimmered.“You

willsucceed.Andifyoudon’t...”Heraisedhisfist.Eventhoughhewasonlyafigureinthesteam,Clarisseflinched.“Doweunderstandeachother?”Aresgrowled.Thealarmbellsrangagain.Iheardvoicescomingtowardme,officersyellingorderstoreadythe

cannons.IcreptbackfromtheventilationgrateandmademywayupstairstojoinAnnabethandTysononthe

spardeck.

“What’swrong?”Annabethaskedme.“Anotherdream?”Inodded,butIdidn’tsayanything.Ididn’tknowwhattothinkaboutwhatI’dseendownstairs.It

botheredmealmostasmuchasthedreamaboutGrover.Clarissecameupthestairsrightafterme.Itriednottolookather.Shegrabbedapairofbinocularsfromazombieofficerandpeeredtowardthehorizon.“Atlast.

Captain,fullsteamahead!”Ilookedinthesamedirectionasshewas,butIcouldn’tseemuch.Theskywasovercast.Theair

washazyandhumid,likesteamfromaniron.IfIsquintedrealhard,Icouldjustmakeoutacoupleofdarkfuzzysplotchesinthedistance.

MynauticalsensestoldmeweweresomewhereoffthecoastofnorthernFlorida,sowe’dcomealongwayovernight,fartherthananymortalshipshould’vebeenabletotravel.

Theenginegroanedasweincreasedspeed.Tysonmutterednervously,“Toomuchstrainonthepistons.Notmeantfordeepwater.”Iwasn’tsurehowheknewthat,butitmademenervous.Afterafewmoreminutes,thedarksplotchesaheadofuscameintofocus.Tothenorth,ahugemass

ofrockroseoutofthesea—anislandwithcliffsatleastahundredfeettall.Abouthalfamilesouthofthat,theotherpatchofdarknesswasastormbrewing.Theskyandseaboiledtogetherinaroaringmass.

“Hurricane?”Annabethasked.

“No,”Clarissesaid.“Charybdis.”Annabethpaled.“Areyoucrazy?”“OnlywayintotheSeaofMonsters.StraightbetweenCharybdisandhersisterScylla.”Clarisse

pointedtothetopofthecliffs,andIgotthefeelingsomethingliveduptherethatIdidnotwanttomeet.“Whatdoyoumeantheonlyway?”Iasked.“Theseaiswideopen!Justsailaroundthem.”Clarisserolledhereyes.“Don’tyouknowanything?IfItriedtosailaroundthem,theywouldjust

appearinmypathagain.IfyouwanttogetintotheSeaofMonsters,youhavetosailthroughthem.”“WhatabouttheClashingRocks?”Annabethsaid.“That’sanothergateway.Jasonusedit.”“Ican’tblowapartrockswithmycannons,”Clarissesaid.“Monsters,ontheotherhand...”“Youarecrazy,”Annabethdecided.“Watchandlearn,WiseGirl.”Clarisseturnedtothecaptain.“SetcourseforCharybdis!”“Aye,m’lady.”Theenginegroaned,theironplatingrattled,andtheshipbegantopickupspeed.“Clarisse,”Isaid,“Charybdissucksupthesea.Isn’tthatthestory?”“Andspitsitbackoutagain,yeah.”“WhataboutScylla?”“Shelivesinacave,uponthosecliffs.Ifwegettooclose,hersnakyheadswillcomedownand

startpluckingsailorsofftheship.”“ChooseScyllathen,”Isaid.“Everybodygoesbelowdeckandwechugrightpast.”“No!”Clarisseinsisted.“IfScylladoesn’tgethereasymeat,shemightpickupthewholeship.

Besides,she’stoohightomakeagoodtarget.Mycannonscan’tshootstraightup.Charybdisjustsitsthereatthecenterofherwhirlwind.We’regoingtosteamstraighttowardher,trainourgunsonher,andblowhertoTartarus!”

ShesaiditwithsuchrelishIalmostwantedtobelieveher.Theenginehummed.TheboilerswereheatingupsomuchIcouldfeelthedeckgettingwarmbeneath

myfeet.Thesmokestacksbillowed.TheredAresflagwhippedinthewind.Aswegotclosertothemonsters,thesoundofCharybdisgotlouderandlouder—ahorriblewetroar

likethegalaxy’sbiggesttoiletbeingflushed.EverytimeCharybdisinhaled,theshipshudderedandlurchedforward.Everytimesheexhaled,weroseinthewaterandwerebuffetedbyten-footwaves.

Itriedtotimethewhirlpool.AsnearasIcouldfigure,ittookCharybdisaboutthreeminutestosuckupanddestroyeverythingwithinahalf-mileradius.Toavoidher,wewouldhavetoskirtrightnexttoScylla’scliffs.AndasbadasScyllamightbe,thosecliffswerelookingawfullygoodtome.

Undeadsailorscalmlywentabouttheirbusinessonthespardeck.Iguessthey’dfoughtalosingcausebefore,sothisdidn’tbotherthem.Ormaybetheydidn’tcareaboutgettingdestroyedbecausetheywerealreadydeceased.Neitherthoughtmademefeelanybetter.

Annabethstoodnexttome,grippingtherail.“Youstillhaveyourthermosfullofwind?”Inodded.“Butit’stoodangeroustousewithawhirlpoollikethat.Morewindmightjustmakethings

worse.”“Whataboutcontrollingthewater?”sheasked.“You’rePoseidon’sson.You’vedoneitbefore.”Shewasright.Iclosedmyeyesandtriedtocalmthesea,butIcouldn’tconcentrate.Charybdiswas

tooloudandpowerful.Thewaveswouldn’trespond.“I—Ican’t,”Isaidmiserably.“Weneedabackupplan,”Annabethsaid.“Thisisn’tgoingtowork.”“Annabethisright,”Tysonsaid.“Engine’snogood.”“Whatdoyoumean?”sheasked.“Pressure.Pistonsneedfixing.”Beforehecouldexplain,thecosmictoiletflushedwithamightyroaaar!Theshiplurchedforward

andIwasthrowntothedeck.Wewereinthewhirlpool.“Fullreverse!”Clarissescreamedabovethenoise.Theseachurnedaroundus,wavescrashingover

thedeck.Theironplatingwasnowsohotitsteamed.“Getuswithinfiringrange!Makereadystarboardcannons!”

DeadConfederatesrushedbackandforth.Thepropellergrindedintoreverse,tryingtoslowtheship,butwekeptslidingtowardthecenterofthevortex.

AzombiesailorburstoutoftheholdandrantoClarisse.Hisgrayuniformwassmoking.Hisbeardwasonfire.“Boilerroomoverheating,ma’am!She’sgoingtoblow!”

“Well,getdownthereandfixit!”“Can’t!”thesailoryelled.“We’revaporizingintheheat.”Clarissepoundedthesideofthecasemate.“AllIneedisafewmoreminutes!Justenoughtogetin

range!”“We’regoingintoofast,”thecaptainsaidgrimly.“Prepareyourselffordeath.”“No!”Tysonbellowed.“Icanfixit.”Clarisselookedathimincredulously.“You?”“He’saCyclops,”Annabethsaid.“He’simmunetofire.Andheknowsmechanics.”“Go!”yelledClarisse.“Tyson,no!”Igrabbedhisarm.“It’stoodangerous!”Hepattedmyhand.“Onlyway,brother.”Hisexpressionwasdetermined—confident,even.I’dnever

seenhimlooklikethisbefore.“Iwillfixit.Berightback.”AsIwatchedhimfollowthesmolderingsailordownthehatch,Ihadaterriblefeeling.Iwantedto

runafterhim,buttheshiplurchedagain—andthenIsawCharybdis.Sheappearedonlyafewhundredyardsaway,throughaswirlofmistandsmokeandwater.Thefirst

thingInoticedwasthereef—ablackcragofcoralwithafigtreeclingingtothetop,anoddlypeacefulthinginthemiddleofamaelstrom.Allaroundit,watercurvedintoafunnel,likelightaroundablackhole.ThenIsawthehorriblethinganchoredtothereefjustbelowthewaterline—anenormousmouthwithslimylipsandmossyteeththesizeofrowboats.Andworse,theteethhadbraces,bandsofcorrodedscummymetalwithpiecesoffishanddriftwoodandfloatinggarbagestuckbetweenthem.

Charybdiswasanorthodontist’snightmare.Shewasnothingbutahugeblackmawwithbadteethalignmentandaseriousoverbite,andshe’ddonenothingforcenturiesbuteatwithoutbrushingaftermeals.AsIwatched,theentireseaaroundherwassuckedintothevoid—sharks,schoolsoffish,agiantsquid.AndIrealizedthatinafewseconds,theCSSBirminghamwouldbenext.

“LadyClarisse,”thecaptainshouted.“Starboardandforwardgunsareinrange!”“Fire!”Clarisseordered.

Threeroundswereblastedintothemonster’smaw.Oneblewofftheedgeofanincisor.Anotherdisappearedintohergullet.ThethirdhitoneofCharybdis’sretainingbandsandshotbackatus,snappingtheAresflagoffitspole.

“Again!”Clarisseordered.Thegunnersreloaded,butIknewitwashopeless.Wewouldhavetopoundthemonsterahundredmoretimestodoanyrealdamage,andwedidn’thavethatlong.Wewerebeingsuckedintoofast.

Thenthevibrationsinthedeckchanged.Thehumoftheenginegotstrongerandsteadier.Theshipshudderedandwestartedpullingawayfromthemouth.

“Tysondidit!”Annabethsaid.“Wait!”Clarissesaid.“Weneedtostayclose!”“We’lldie!”Isaid.“Wehavetomoveaway.”Igrippedtherailastheshipfoughtagainstthesuction.ThebrokenAresflagracedpastusand

lodgedinCharybdis’sbraces.Weweren’tmakingmuchprogress,butatleastwewereholdingourown.Tysonhadsomehowgivenusjustenoughjuicetokeeptheshipfrombeingsuckedin.

Suddenly,themouthsnappedshut.Theseadiedtoabsolutecalm.WaterwashedoverCharybdis.Then,justasquicklyasithadclosed,themouthexplodedopen,spittingoutawallofwater,ejecting

everythinginedible,includingourcannonballs,oneofwhichslammedintothesideoftheCSSBirminghamwithadinglikethebellonacarnivalgame.

Wewerethrownbackwardonawavethatmust’vebeenfortyfeethigh.Iusedallofmywillpowertokeeptheshipfromcapsizing,butwewerestillspinningoutofcontrol,hurtlingtowardthecliffsontheoppositesideofthestrait.

Anothersmolderingsailorburstoutofthehold.HestumbledintoClarisse,almostknockingthembothoverboard.“Theengineisabouttoblow!”

“Where’sTyson?”Idemanded.“Stilldownthere,”thesailorsaid.“Holdingittogethersomehow,thoughIdon’tknowforhowmuch

longer.”Thecaptainsaid,“Wehavetoabandonship.”“No!”Clarisseyelled.“Wehavenochoice,m’lady.Thehullisalreadycrackingapart!Shecan’t—”Heneverfinishedhissentence.Quickaslightning,somethingbrownandgreenshotfromthesky,

snatchedupthecaptain,andliftedhimaway.Allthatwasleftwerehisleatherboots.“Scylla!”asailoryelled,asanothercolumnofreptilianfleshshotfromthecliffsandsnappedhim

up.Ithappenedsofastitwaslikewatchingalaserbeamratherthanamonster.Icouldn’tevenmakeoutthething’sface,justaflashofteethandscales.

IuncappedRiptideandtriedtoswipeatthemonsterasitcarriedoffanotherdeckhand,butIwaswaytooslow.

“Everyonegetbelow!”Iyelled.“Wecan’t!”Clarissedrewherownsword.“Belowdeckisinflames.”“Lifeboats!”Annabethsaid.“Quick!”“They’llnevergetclearofthecliffs,”Clarissesaid.“We’llallbeeaten.”“Wehavetotry.Percy,thethermos.”“Ican’tleaveTyson!”

“Wehavetogettheboatsready!”ClarissetookAnnabeth’scommand.Sheandafewofherundeadsailorsuncoveredoneofthetwo

emergencyrowboatswhileScylla’sheadsrainedfromtheskylikeameteorshowerwithteeth,pickingoffConfederatesailorsoneafteranother.

“Gettheotherboat.”IthrewAnnabeththethermos.“I’llgetTyson.”“Youcan’t!”shesaid.“Theheatwillkillyou!”Ididn’tlisten.Iranfortheboilerroomhatch,whensuddenlymyfeetweren’ttouchingthedeck

anymore.Iwasflyingstraightup,thewindwhistlinginmyears,thesideofthecliffonlyinchesfrommyface.

Scyllahadsomehowcaughtmebytheknapsack,andwasliftingmeuptowardherlair.Withoutthinking,Iswungmyswordbehindmeandmanagedtojabthethinginherbeadyyelloweye.Shegruntedanddroppedme.

Thefallwould’vebeenbadenough,consideringIwasahundredfeetintheair.ButasIfell,theCSSBirminghamexplodedbelowme.

KAROOM!Theengineroomblew,sendingchunksofironcladflyingineitherdirectionlikeafierysetofwings.“Tyson!”Iyelled.Thelifeboatshadmanagedtogetawayfromtheship,butnotveryfar.Flamingwreckagewasraining

down.ClarisseandAnnabethwouldeitherbesmashedorburnedorpulledtothebottombytheforceofthesinkinghull,andthatwasthinkingoptimistically,assumingtheygotawayfromScylla.

ThenIheardadifferentkindofexplosion—thesoundofHermes’smagicthermosbeingopenedalittletoofar.Whitesheetsofwindblastedineverydirection,scatteringthelifeboats,liftingmeoutofmyfreefallandpropellingmeacrosstheocean.

Icouldn’tseeanything.Ispunintheair,gotclonkedontheheadbysomethinghard,andhitthewaterwithacrashthatwould’vebrokeneveryboneinmybodyifIhadn’tbeenthesonoftheSeaGod.

ThelastthingIrememberedwassinkinginaburningsea,knowingthatTysonwasgoneforever,andwishingIwereabletodrown.

TWELVE

WECHECKINTOC.C.’SSPA&RESORT

Iwokeupinarowboatwithamakeshiftsailstitchedofgrayuniformfabric.Annabethsatnexttome,tackingintothewind.

Itriedtositupandimmediatelyfeltwoozy.“Rest,”shesaid.“You’regoingtoneedit.”“Tyson...?”Sheshookherhead.“Percy,I’mreallysorry.”Weweresilentwhilethewavestossedusupanddown.“Hemayhavesurvived,”shesaidhalfheartedly.“Imean,firecan’tkillhim.”Inodded,butIhadnoreasontofeelhopeful.I’dseenthatexplosionripthroughsolidiron.IfTyson

hadbeendownintheboilerroom,therewasnowayhecould’velived.He’dgivenhislifeforus,andallIcouldthinkaboutwerethetimesI’dfeltembarrassedbyhimand

haddeniedthatthetwoofuswererelated.Waveslappedattheboat.Annabethshowedmesomethingsshe’dsalvagedfromthewreckage—

Hermes’sthermos(nowempty),aZiplocbagfullofambrosia,acoupleofsailors’shirts,andabottleofDrPepper.She’dfishedmeoutofthewaterandfoundmyknapsack,bitteninhalfbyScylla’steeth.Mostofmystuffhadfloatedaway,butIstillhadHermes’sbottleofmultivitamins,andofcourseIhadRiptide.TheballpointpenalwaysappearedbackinmypocketnomatterwhereIlostit.

Wesailedforhours.NowthatwewereintheSeaofMonsters,thewaterglitteredamorebrilliantgreen,likeHydraacid.Thewindsmelledfreshandsalty,butitcarriedastrangemetallicscent,too—asifathunderstormwerecoming.Orsomethingevenmoredangerous.Iknewwhatdirectionweneededtogo.Iknewwewereexactlyonehundredthirteennauticalmileswestbynorthwestofourdestination.Butthatdidn’tmakemefeelanylesslost.

Nomatterwhichwayweturned,thesunseemedtoshinestraightintomyeyes.WetookturnssippingfromtheDrPepper,shadingourselveswiththesailasbestwecould.AndwetalkedaboutmylatestdreamofGrover.

ByAnnabeth’sestimate,wehadlessthantwenty-fourhourstofindGrover,assumingmydreamwasaccurate,andassumingtheCyclopsPolyphemusdidn’tchangehismindandtrytomarryGroverearlier.

“Yeah,”Isaidbitterly.“YoucannevertrustaCyclops.”Annabethstaredacrossthewater.“I’msorry,Percy.IwaswrongaboutTyson,okay?IwishIcould

tellhimthat.”Itriedtostaymadather,butitwasn’teasy.We’dbeenthroughalottogether.She’dsavedmylife

plentyoftimes.Itwasstupidofmetoresenther.Ilookeddownatourmeaslypossessions—theemptywindthermos,thebottleofmultivitamins.I

thoughtaboutLuke’slookofragewhenI’dtriedtotalktohimabouthisdad.“Annabeth,what’sChiron’sprophecy?”

Shepursedherlips.“Percy,Ishouldn’t—”“IknowChironpromisedthegodshewouldn’ttellme.Butyoudidn’tpromise,didyou?”“Knowledgeisn’talwaysgoodforyou.”“Yourmomisthewisdomgoddess!”“Iknow!Buteverytimeheroeslearnthefuture,theytrytochangeit,anditneverworks.”“ThegodsareworriedaboutsomethingI’lldowhenIgetolder,”Iguessed.“SomethingwhenIturn

sixteen.”AnnabethtwistedherYankeescapinherhands.“Percy,Idon’tknowthefullprophecy,butitwarns

aboutahalf-bloodchildoftheBigThree—thenextonewholivestotheageofsixteen.That’stherealreasonZeus,Poseidon,andHadessworeapactafterWorldWarIInottohaveanymorekids.ThenextchildoftheBigThreewhoreachessixteenwillbeadangerousweapon.”

“Why?”“BecausethatherowilldecidethefateofOlympus.Heorshewillmakeadecisionthateithersaves

theAgeoftheGods,ordestroysit.”Iletthatsinkin.Idon’tgetseasick,butsuddenlyIfeltill.“That’swhyKronosdidn’tkillmelast

summer.”Shenodded.“Youcouldbeveryusefultohim.Ifhecangetyouonhisside,thegodswillbein

serioustrouble.”“Butifit’smeintheprophecy—”“We’llonlyknowthatifyousurvivethreemoreyears.Thatcanbealongtimeforahalf-blood.

WhenChironfirstlearnedaboutThalia,heassumedshewastheoneintheprophecy.That’swhyhewassodesperatetogethersafelytocamp.Thenshewentdownfightingandgotturnedintoapinetreeandnoneofusknewwhattothink.Untilyoucamealong.”

Onourportside,aspikygreendorsalfinaboutfifteenfeetlongcurledoutofthewateranddisappeared.

“Thiskidintheprophecy...heorshecouldn’tbelike,aCyclops?”Iasked.“TheBigThreehavelotsofmonsterchildren.”

Annabethshookherhead.“TheOraclesaid‘halfblood.’Thatalwaysmeanshalf-human,half-god.There’sreallynobodyalivewhoitcouldbe,exceptyou.”

“Thenwhydothegodsevenletmelive?Itwouldbesafertokillme.”“You’reright.”“Thanksalot.”“Percy,Idon’tknow.Iguesssomeofthegodswouldliketokillyou,butthey’reprobablyafraidof

offendingPoseidon.Othergods...maybethey’restillwatchingyou,tryingtodecidewhatkindofheroyou’regoingbe.Youcouldbeaweaponfortheirsurvival,afterall.Therealquestionis...whatwillyoudointhreeyears?Whatdecisionwillyoumake?”

“Didtheprophecygiveanyhints?”Annabethhesitated.Maybeshewould’vetoldmemore,butjustthenaseagullswoopeddownoutofnowhereandlanded

onourmakeshiftmast.Annabethlookedstartledasthebirddroppedasmallclusterofleavesintoherlap.“Land,”shesaid.“There’slandnearby!”Isatup.Sureenough,therewasalineofblueandbrowninthedistance.AnotherminuteandIcould

makeoutanislandwithasmallmountaininthecenter,adazzlingwhitecollectionofbuildings,abeachdottedwithpalmtrees,andaharborfilledwithastrangeassortmentofboats.

Thecurrentwaspullingourrowboattowardwhatlookedlikeatropicalparadise.

“Welcome!”saidtheladywiththeclipboard.Shelookedlikeaflightattendant—bluebusinesssuit,perfectmakeup,hairpulledbackinaponytail.

Sheshookourhandsaswesteppedontothedock.Withthedazzlingsmileshegaveus,youwould’vethoughtwe’djustgottenoffthePrincessAndromedaratherthanabanged-uprowboat.

Thenagain,ourrowboatwasn’ttheweirdestshipinport.Alongwithabunchofpleasureyachts,therewasaU.S.Navysubmarine,severaldugoutcanoes,andanold-fashionedthree-mastedsailingship.Therewasahelipadwitha“ChannelFiveFortLauderdale”helicopteronit,andashortrunwaywithaLearjetandapropellerplanethatlookedlikeaWorldWarIIfighter.Maybetheywerereplicasfortouriststolookatorsomething.

“Isthisyourfirsttimewithus?”theclipboardladyinquired.AnnabethandIexchangedlooks.Annabethsaid,“Umm...”

“First—time—at—spa,”theladysaidasshewroteonherclipboard.“Let’ssee...”Shelookedusupanddowncritically.“Mmm.Anherbalwraptostartfortheyounglady.Andof

course,acompletemakeoverfortheyounggentleman.”“Awhat?”Iasked.Shewastoobusyjottingdownnotestoanswer.“Right!”Shesaidwithabreezysmile.“Well,I’msureC.C.willwanttospeakwithyoupersonally

beforetheluau.Come,please.”Nowhere’sthething.AnnabethandIwereusedtotraps,andusuallythosetrapslookedgoodatfirst.

SoIexpectedtheclipboardladytoturnintoasnakeorademon,orsomething,anyminute.Butontheotherhand,we’dbeenfloatinginarowboatformostoftheday.Iwashot,tired,andhungry,andwhenthisladymentionedaluau,mystomachsatuponitshindlegsandbeggedlikeadog.

“Iguessitcouldn’thurt,”Annabethmuttered.Ofcourseitcould,butwefollowedtheladyanyway.IkeptmyhandsinmypocketswhereI’d

stashedmyonlymagicdefenses—Hermes’smultivitaminsandRiptide—butthefartherwewanderedintotheresort,themoreIforgotaboutthem.

Theplacewasamazing.TherewaswhitemarbleandbluewatereverywhereIlooked.Terracesclimbedupthesideofthemountain,withswimmingpoolsoneverylevel,connectedbywaterslidesandwaterfallsandunderwatertubesyoucouldswimthrough.Fountainssprayedwaterintotheair,formingimpossibleshapes,likeflyingeaglesandgallopinghorses.

Tysonlovedhorses,andIknewhe’dlovethosefountains.IalmostturnedaroundtoseetheexpressiononhisfacebeforeIremembered:Tysonwasgone.

“Youokay?”Annabethaskedme.“Youlookpale.”“I’mokay,”Ilied.“Just...let’skeepwalking.”Wepassedallkindsoftameanimals.Aseaturtlenappedinastackofbeachtowels.Aleopard

stretchedoutasleeponthedivingboard.Theresortguests—onlyyoungwomen,asfarasIcouldsee—loungedindeckchairs,drinkingfruitsmoothiesorreadingmagazineswhileherbalgunkdriedontheirfacesandmanicuristsinwhiteuniformsdidtheirnails.

Asweheadedupastaircasetowardwhatlookedlikethemainbuilding,Iheardawomansinging.

Hervoicedriftedthroughtheairlikealullaby.HerwordswereinsomelanguageotherthanAncientGreek,butjustasold—Minoan,maybe,orsomethinglikethat.Icouldunderstandwhatshesangabout—moonlightintheolivegroves,thecolorsofthesunrise.Andmagic.Somethingaboutmagic.Hervoiceseemedtoliftmeoffthestepsandcarrymetowardher.

Wecameintoabigroomwherethewholefrontwallwaswindows.Thebackwallwascoveredinmirrors,sotheroomseemedtogoonforever.Therewasabunchofexpensive-lookingwhitefurniture,andonatableinonecornerwasalargewirepetcage.Thecageseemedoutofplace,butIdidn’tthinkaboutittoomuch,becausejustthenIsawtheladywho’dbeensinging...andwhoa.

ShesatataloomthesizeofabigscreenTV,herhandsweavingcoloredthreadbackandforthwithamazingskill.

Thetapestryshimmeredlikeitwasthreedimensional—awaterfallscenesorealIcouldseethewatermovingandcloudsdriftingacrossafabricsky.

Annabethcaughtherbreath.“It’sbeautiful.”Thewomanturned.Shewasevenprettierthanherfabric.Herlongdarkhairwasbraidedwith

threadsofgold.Shehadpiercinggreeneyesandsheworeasilkyblackdresswithshapesthatseemedtomoveinthefabric:animalshadows,blackuponblack,likedeerrunningthroughaforestatnight.

“Youappreciateweaving,mydear?”thewomanasked.“Oh,yes,ma’am!”Annabethsaid.“Mymotheris—”Shestoppedherself.Youcouldn’tjustgoaroundannouncingthatyourmomwasAthena,thegoddess

whoinventedtheloom.Mostpeoplewouldlockyouinarubberroom.Ourhostessjustsmiled.“Youhavegoodtaste,mydear.I’msogladyou’vecome.MynameisC.C.”Theanimalsinthecornercagestartedsquealing.Theymust’vebeenguineapigs,fromthesoundof

them.WeintroducedourselvestoC.C.Shelookedmeoverwithatwingeofdisapproval,asifI’dfailed

somekindoftest.Immediately,Ifeltbad.Forsomereason,Ireallywantedtopleasethislady.“Oh,dear,”shesighed.“Youdoneedmyhelp.”“Ma’am?”Iasked.C.C.calledtotheladyinthebusinesssuit.“Hylla,takeAnnabethonatour,willyou?Showherwhat

wehaveavailable.Theclothingwillneedtochange.Andthehair,mygoodness.WewilldoafullimageconsultationafterI’vespokenwiththisyounggentleman.”

“But...”Annabeth’svoicesoundedhurt.“What’swrongwithmyhair?”C.C.smiledbenevolently.“Mydear,youarelovely.Really!Butyou’renotshowingoffyourselfor

yourtalentsatall.Somuchwastedpotential!”“Wasted?”“Well,surelyyou’renothappythewayyouare!Mygoodness,there’snotasinglepersonwhois.But

don’tworry.Wecanimproveanyonehereatthespa.HyllawillshowyouwhatImean.You,mydear,needtounlockyourtrueself!”

Annabeth’seyesglowedwithlonging.I’dneverseenhersomuchatalossforwords.“But...whataboutPercy?”

“Oh,definitely,”C.C.said,givingmeasadlook.“Percyrequiresmypersonalattention.Heneedsmuchmoreworkthanyou.”

Normallyifsomebodyhadtoldmethat,Iwould’vegottenangry,butwhenC.C.saidit,Ifeltsad.I’d

disappointedher.Ihadtofigureouthowtodobetter.Theguineapigssquealedliketheywerehungry.“Well...”Annabethsaid.“Isuppose...”“Rightthisway,dear,”Hyllasaid.AndAnnabethallowedherselftobeledawayintothewaterfall-

lacedgardensofthespa.C.C.tookmyarmandguidedmetowardthemirroredwall.“Yousee,Percy...tounlockyour

potential,you’llneedserioushelp.Thefirststepisadmittingthatyou’renothappythewayyouare.”Ifidgetedinthefrontofthemirror.Ihatedthinkingaboutmyappearance—likethefirstzitthathad

croppeduponmynoseatthebeginningoftheschoolyear,orthefactthatmytwofrontteethweren’tperfectlyeven,orthatmyhairneverstayeddownstraight.

C.C.’svoicebroughtallofthesethingstomind,asifshewerepassingmeunderamicroscope.Andmyclotheswerenotcool.Iknewthat.

Whocares?Partofmethought.ButstandinginfrontofC.C.’smirror,itwashardtoseeanythinggoodinmyself.

“There,there,”C.C.consoled.“Howaboutwetry...this.”Shesnappedherfingersandasky-bluecurtainrolleddownoverthemirror.Itshimmeredlikethe

fabriconherloom.“Whatdoyousee?”C.C.asked.Ilookedatthebluecloth,notsurewhatshemeant.“Idon’t—”Thenitchangedcolors.Isawmyself—areflection,butnotareflection.Shimmeringthereonthe

clothwasacoolerversionofPercyJackson—withjusttherightclothes,aconfidentsmileonmyface.Myteethwerestraight.Nozits.Aperfecttan.Moreathletic.Maybeacoupleofinchestaller.Itwasme,withoutthefaults.

“Whoa,”Imanaged.“Doyouwantthat?”C.C.asked.“OrshallItryadifferent—”“No,”Isaid.“That’s...that’samazing.Canyoureally—”“Icangiveyouafullmakeover,”C.C.promised.“What’sthecatch?”Isaid.“Ihavetolike...eataspecialdiet?”“Oh,it’squiteeasy,”C.C.said.“Plentyoffreshfruit,amildexerciseprogram,andofcourse...

this.”Shesteppedovertoherwetbarandfilledaglasswithwater.Thensherippedopenadrink-mix

packetandpouredinsomeredpowder.Themixturebegantoglow.Whenitfaded,thedrinklookedjustlikeastrawberrymilkshake.

“Oneofthese,substitutedforaregularmeal,”C.C.said.“Iguaranteeyou’llseeresultsimmediately.”

“Howisthatpossible?”Shelaughed.“Whyquestionit?Imean,don’tyouwanttheperfectyourightaway?”Somethingnaggedatthebackofmymind.“Whyaretherenoguysatthisspa?”“Oh,butthereare,”C.C.assuredme.“You’llmeetthemquitesoon.Justtrythemixture.You’llsee.”Ilookedatthebluetapestry,atthereflectionofme,butnotme.“Now,Percy,”C.C.chided.“Thehardestpartofthemakeoverprocessisgivingupcontrol.You

havetodecide:doyouwanttotrustyourjudgmentaboutwhatyoushouldbe,ormyjudgment?”Mythroatfeltdry.Iheardmyselfsay,“Yourjudgment.”C.C.smiledandhandedmetheglass.Iliftedittomylips.Ittastedjustlikeitlooked—likeastrawberrymilkshake.Almostimmediatelyawarmfeeling

spreadthroughmygut:pleasantatfirst,thenpainfullyhot,searing,asifthemixturewerecomingtoaboilinsideofme.

Idoubledoveranddroppedthecup.“Whathaveyou...what’shappening?”“Don’tworry,Percy,”C.C.said.“Thepainwillpass.Look!AsIpromised.Immediateresults.”Somethingwashorriblywrong.Thecurtaindroppedaway,andinthemirrorIsawmyhandsshriveling,curling,growinglong

delicateclaws.Fursproutedonmyface,undermyshirt,ineveryuncomfortableplaceyoucanimagine.Myteethfelttooheavyinmymouth.Myclothesweregettingtoobig,orC.C.wasgettingtootall—no,Iwasshrinking.

Inoneawfulflash,Isankintoacavernofdarkcloth.Iwasburiedinmyownshirt.Itriedtorunbuthandsgrabbedme—handsasbigasIwas.Itriedtoscreamforhelp,butallthatcameoutofmymouthwas,“Reeet,reeet,reeet!”

Thegianthandssqueezedmearoundthemiddle,liftingmeintotheair.Istruggledandkickedwithlegsandarmsthatseemedmuchtoostubby,andthenIwasstaring,horrified,intotheenormousfaceofC.C.

“Perfect!”hervoiceboomed.Isquirmedinalarm,butsheonlytightenedhergriparoundmyfurrybelly.“See,Percy?You’veunlockedyourtrueself!”

Sheheldmeuptothemirror,andwhatIsawmademescreaminterror,“Reeet,reeet,reeet!”TherewasC.C.,beautifulandsmiling,holdingafluffy,bucktoothedcreaturewithtinyclawsandwhiteandorangefur.WhenItwisted,sodidthefurrycritterinthemirror.Iwas...Iwas...

“Aguineapig,”C.C.said.“Lovely,aren’tyou?Menarepigs,PercyJackson.Iusedtoturnthemintorealpigs,buttheyweresosmellyandlargeanddifficulttokeep.Notmuchdifferentthantheywerebefore,really.Guineapigsaremuchmoreconvenient!Nowcome,andmeettheothermen.”

“Reeet!”Iprotested,tryingtoscratchher,butC.C.squeezedmesotightIalmostblackedout.“Noneofthat,littleone,”shescolded,“orI’llfeedyoutotheowls.Gointothecagelikeagood

littlepet.Tomorrow,ifyoubehave,you’llbeonyourway.Thereisalwaysaclassroominneedofanewguineapig.”

Mymindwasracingasfastasmytinylittleheart.Ineededtogetbacktomyclothes,whichwerelyinginaheaponthefloor.IfIcoulddothat,IcouldgetRiptideoutofmypocketand...Andwhat?Icouldn’tuncapthepen.EvenifIdid,Icouldn’tholdthesword.

IsquirmedhelplesslyasC.C.broughtmeovertotheguineapigcageandopenedthewiredoor.“Meetmydisciplineproblems,Percy,”shewarned.“They’llnevermakegoodclassroompets,but

theymightteachyousomemanners.Mostofthemhavebeeninthiscageforthreehundredyears.Ifyoudon’twanttostaywiththempermanently,I’dsuggestyou—”

Annabeth’svoicecalled:“MissC.C.?”C.C.cursedinAncientGreek.Sheploppedmeintothecageandclosedthedoor.Isquealedand

clawedatthebars,butitwasnogood.IwatchedasC.C.hurriedlykickedmyclothesundertheloomjustasAnnabethcamein.

Ialmostdidn’trecognizeher.ShewaswearingasleevelesssilkdresslikeC.C.’s,onlywhite.Herblondhairwasnewlywashedandcombedandbraidedwithgold.Worstofall,shewaswearingmakeup,whichIneverthoughtAnnabethwouldbecaughtdeadin.Imean,shelookedgood.Reallygood.Iprobablywould’vebeentongue-tiedifIcould’vesaidanythingexceptreet,reet,reet.Buttherewasalsosomethingtotallywrongaboutit.Itjustwasn’tAnnabeth.

Shelookedaroundtheroomandfrowned.“Where’sPercy?”Isquealedupastorm,butshedidn’tseemtohearme.C.C.smiled.“He’shavingoneofourtreatments,mydear.Nottoworry.Youlookwonderful!What

didyouthinkofyourtour?”Annabeth’seyesbrightened.“Yourlibraryisamazing!”“Yes,indeed,”C.C.said.“Thebestknowledgeofthepastthreemillennia.Anythingyouwantto

study,anythingyouwanttobe,mydear.”“Anarchitect?”“Pah!”C.C.said.“You,mydear,havethemakingsofasorceress.Likeme.”Annabethtookastepback.“Asorceress?”“Yes,mydear.”C.C.heldupherhand.Aflameappearedinherpalmanddancedacrossher

fingertips.“MymotherisHecate,thegoddessofmagic.IknowadaughterofAthenawhenIseeone.Wearenotsodifferent,youandI.Webothseekknowledge.Webothadmiregreatness.Neitherofusneedstostandintheshadowofmen.”

“I—Idon’tunderstand.”Again,Isquealedmybest,tryingtogetAnnabeth’sattention,butsheeithercouldn’thearmeor

didn’tthinkthenoiseswereimportant.Meanwhile,theotherguineapigswereemergingfromtheirhutchtocheckmeout.Ididn’tthinkitwaspossibleforguineapigstolookmean,butthesedid.Therewerehalfadozen,withdirtyfurandcrackedteethandbeadyredeyes.Theywerecoveredwithshavingsandsmelledliketheyreallyhadbeeninhereforthreehundredyears,withoutgettingtheircagecleaned.

“Staywithme,”C.C.wastellingAnnabeth.“Studywithme.Youcanjoinourstaff,becomeasorceress,learntobendotherstoyourwill.Youwillbecomeimmortal!”

“But—”“Youaretoointelligent,mydear,”C.C.said.“Youknowbetterthantotrustthatsillycampfor

heroes.Howmanygreatfemalehalf-bloodheroescanyouname?”“Um,Atalanta,AmeliaEarhart—”“Bah!Mengetalltheglory.”C.C.closedherfistandextinguishedthemagicflame.“Theonlywayto

powerforwomenissorcery.Medea,Calypso,nowtherewerepowerfulwomen!Andme,ofcourse.Thegreatestofall.”

“You...C.C....Circe!”“Yes,mydear.”Annabethbackedup,andCircelaughed.“Youneednotworry.Imeanyounoharm.”“WhathaveyoudonetoPercy?”“Onlyhelpedhimrealizehistrueform.”Annabethscannedtheroom.Finallyshesawthecage,andmescratchingatthebars,alltheother

guineapigscrowdingaroundme.Hereyeswentwide.“Forgethim,”Circesaid.“Joinmeandlearnthewaysofsorcery.”

“But—”“Yourfriendwillbewellcaredfor.He’llbeshippedtoawonderfulnewhomeonthemainland.The

kindergartnerswilladorehim.Meanwhile,youwillbewiseandpowerful.Youwillhaveallyoueverwanted.”

Annabethwasstillstaringatme,butshehadadreamyexpressiononherface.ShelookedthesamewayIhadwhenCirceenchantedmeintodrinkingtheguineapigmilkshake.Isquealedandscratched,tryingtowarnhertosnapoutofit,butIwasabsolutelypowerless.

“Letmethinkaboutit,”Annabethmurmured.“Just...givemeaminutealone.Tosaygood-bye.”“Ofcourse,mydear,”Circecooed.“Oneminute.Oh...andsoyouhaveabsoluteprivacy...”She

wavedherhandandironbarsslammeddownoverthewindows.ShesweptoutoftheroomandIheardthelocksonthedoorclickshutbehindher.

ThedreamylookmeltedoffAnnabeth’sface.Sherushedovertomycage.“Allright,whichoneisyou?”Isquealed,butsodidalltheotherguineapigs.Annabethlookeddesperate.Shescannedtheroom

andspottedthecuffofmyjeansstickingoutfromundertheloom.Yes!Sherushedoverandrummagedthroughmypockets.ButinsteadofbringingoutRiptide,shefoundthebottleofHermesmultivitaminsandstarted

strugglingwiththecap.Iwantedtoscreamatherthatthiswasn’tthetimefortakingsupplements!Shehadtodrawthe

sword!ShepoppedalemonchewableinhermouthjustasthedoorflewopenandCircecamebackin,

flankedbytwoofherbusiness-suitedattendants.“Well,”Circesighed,“howfastaminutepasses.Whatisyouranswer,mydear?”“This,”Annabethsaid,andshedrewherbronzeknife.Thesorceresssteppedback,buthersurprisequicklypassed.Shesneered.“Really,littlegirl,aknife

againstmymagic?Isthatwise?”Circelookedbackatherattendants,whosmiled.Theyraisedtheirhandsasifpreparingtocasta

spell.Run!IwantedtotellAnnabeth,butallIcouldmakewererodentnoises.Theotherguineapigs

squealedinterrorandscuttledaroundthecage.Ihadtheurgetopanicandhide,too,butIhadtothinkofsomething!Icouldn’tstandtoloseAnnabeththewayI’dlostTyson.

“WhatwillAnnabeth’smakeoverbe?”Circemused.“Somethingsmallandill-tempered.Iknow...ashrew!”

BluefirecoiledfromherfingerscurlinglikeserpentsaroundAnnabeth.Iwatched,horror-struck,butnothinghappened.AnnabethwasstillAnnabeth,onlyangrier.She

leapedforwardandstuckthepointofherknifeagainstCirce’sneck.“Howaboutturningmeintoapantherinstead?Onethathasherclawsatyourthroat!”

“How!”Circeyelped.Annabethheldupmybottleofvitaminsforthesorceresstosee.Circehowledinfrustration.“CurseHermesandhismultivitamins!Thosearesuchafad!Theydo

nothingforyou.”

“TurnPercybacktoahumanorelse!”Annabethsaid.“Ican’t!”“Thenyouaskedforit.”Circe’sattendantssteppedforward,buttheirmistresssaid,“Getback!She’simmunetomagicuntil

thatcursedvitaminwearsoff.”AnnabethdraggedCirceovertotheguineapigcage,knockedthetopoff,andpouredtherestofthe

vitaminsinside.“No!”Circescreamed.Iwasthefirsttogetavitamin,butalltheotherguineapigsscuttledout,too,andcheckedoutthis

newfood.Thefirstnibble,andIfeltallfieryinside.Ignawedatthevitaminuntilitstoppedlookingsohuge,

andthecagegotsmaller,andthensuddenly,bang!Thecageexploded.Iwassittingonthefloor,ahumanagain—somehowbackinmyregularclothes,thankthegods—withsixotherguyswhoalllookeddisoriented,blinkingandshakingwoodshavingsoutoftheirhair.

“No!”Circescreamed.“Youdon’tunderstand!Thosearetheworst!”Oneofthemenstoodup—ahugeguywithalongtangledpitch-blackbeardandteeththesamecolor.

Heworemismatchedclothesofwoolandleather,knee-lengthboots,andafloppyfelthat.Theothermenweredressedmoresimply—inbreechesandstainedwhiteshirts.Allofthemwerebarefoot.

“Argggh!”bellowedthebigman.“What’sthewitchdonet’me!”“No!”Circemoaned.Annabethgasped.“Irecognizeyou!EdwardTeach,sonofAres?”“Aye,lass,”thebigmangrowled.“ThoughmostcallmeBlackbeard!Andthere’sthesorceresswhat

capturedus,lads.Runherthrough,andthenImeantofindmeabigbowlofcelery!Arggggh!”Circescreamed.Sheandherattendantsranfromtheroom,chasedbythepirates.Annabethsheathedherknifeandglaredatme.“Thanks...”Ifaltered.“I’mreallysorry—”BeforeIcouldfigureouthowtoapologizeforbeingsuchanidiot,shetackledmewithahug,then

pulledawayjustasquickly.“I’mgladyou’renotaguineapig.”“Me,too.”Ihopedmyfacewasn’tasredasitfelt.Sheundidthegoldenbraidsinherhair.“Comeon,SeaweedBrain,”shesaid.“WehavetogetawaywhileCirce’sdistracted.”Werandownthehillsidethroughtheterraces,pastscreamingspaworkersandpiratesransackingthe

resort.Blackbeard’smenbrokethetikitorchesfortheluau,threwherbalwrapsintotheswimmingpool,

andkickedovertablesofsaunatowels.Ialmostfeltbadlettingtheunrulypiratesout,butIguessedtheydeservedsomethingmore

entertainingthantheexercisewheelafterbeingcoopedupinacageforthreecenturies.“Whichship?”Annabethsaidaswereachedthedocks.Ilookedarounddesperately.Wecouldn’tverywelltakeourrowboat.Wehadtogetofftheisland

fast,butwhatelsecouldweuse?Asub?Afighterjet?Icouldn’tpilotanyofthosethings.AndthenIsawit.

“There,”Isaid.Annabethblinked.“But—”“Icanmakeitwork.”“How?”Icouldn’texplain.Ijustsomehowknewanoldsailingvesselwasthebestbetforme.Igrabbed

Annabeth’shandandpulledhertowardthethree-mastship.PaintedonitsprowwasthenamethatIwouldonlydecipherlater:QueenAnne’sRevenge.

“Argggh!”Blackbeardyelledsomewherebehindus.“Thosescalawagsarea-boardingmevessel!Get’em,lads!”

“We’llnevergetgoingintime!”Annabethyelledasweclimbedaboard.Ilookedaroundatthehopelessmazeofsailandropes.Theshipwasingreatconditionforathree-

hundred-yearoldvessel,butitwouldstilltakeacrewoffiftyseveralhourstogetunderway.Wedidn’thaveseveralhours.Icouldseethepiratesrunningdownthestairs,wavingtikitorchesandsticksofcelery.

Iclosedmyeyesandconcentratedonthewaveslappingagainstthehull,theoceancurrents,thewindsallaroundme.Suddenly,therightwordappearedinmymind.“Mizzenmast!”Iyelled.

AnnabethlookedatmelikeIwasnuts,butinthenextsecond,theairwasfilledwithwhistlingsoundsofropesbeingsnappedtaut,canvasesunfurling,andwoodenpulleyscreaking.

Annabethduckedasacableflewoverherheadandwrappeditselfaroundthebowsprit.“Percy,how...”

Ididn’thaveananswer,butIcouldfeeltheshiprespondingtomeasifitwerepartofmybody.IwilledthesailstoriseaseasilyasifIwereflexingmyarm.Iwilledtheruddertoturn.

TheQueenAnne’sRevengelurchedawayfromthedock,andbythetimethepiratesarrivedatthewater’sedge,wewerealreadyunderway,sailingintotheSeaofMonsters.

THIRTEEN

ANNABETHTRIESTOSWIMHOME

I’dfinallyfoundsomethingIwasreallygoodat.TheQueenAnne’sRevengerespondedtomyeverycommand.Iknewwhichropestohoist,which

sailstoraise,whichdirectiontosteer.WeplowedthroughthewavesatwhatIfiguredwasabouttenknots.Ievenunderstoodhowfastthatwas.Forasailingship,prettydarnfast.

Itallfeltperfect—thewindinmyface,thewavesbreakingovertheprow.Butnowthatwewereoutofdanger,allIcouldthinkaboutwashowmuchImissedTyson,andhow

worriedIwasaboutGrover.Icouldn’tgetoverhowbadlyI’dmesseduponCirce’sIsland.Ifithadn’tbeenforAnnabeth,I’d

stillbearodent,hidinginahutchwithabunchofcutefurrypirates.IthoughtaboutwhatCircehadsaid:See,Percy?You’veunlockedyourtrueself!

Istillfeltchanged.NotjustbecauseIhadasuddendesiretoeatlettuce.Ifeltjumpy,liketheinstincttobeascaredlittleanimalwasnowapartofme.Ormaybeithadalwaysbeenthere.That’swhatreallyworriedme.

Wesailedthroughthenight.Annabethtriedtohelpmekeeplookout,butsailingdidn’tagreewithher.Afterafewhoursrocking

backandforth,herfaceturnedthecolorofguacamoleandshewentbelowtolieinahammock.Iwatchedthehorizon.MorethanonceIspottedmonsters.Aplumeofwaterastallasaskyscraper

spewedintothemoonlight.Arowofgreenspinesslitheredacrossthewaves—somethingmaybeahundredfeetlong,reptilian.Ididn’treallywanttoknow.

OnceIsawNereids,theglowingladyspiritsofthesea.Itriedtowaveatthem,buttheydisappearedintothedepths,leavingmeunsurewhetherthey’dseenmeornot.

Sometimeaftermidnight,Annabethcameupondeck.Wewerejustpassingasmokingvolcanoisland.Theseabubbledandsteamedaroundtheshore.

“OneoftheforgesofHephaestus,”Annabethsaid.“Wherehemakeshismetalmonsters.”“Likethebronzebulls?”Shenodded.“Goaround.Fararound.”Ididn’tneedtobetoldtwice.Westeeredclearoftheisland,andsoonitwasjustaredpatchofhaze

behindus.IlookedatAnnabeth.“ThereasonyouhateCyclopessomuch...thestoryabouthowThaliareally

died.Whathappened?”Itwashardtoseeherexpressioninthedark.“Iguessyoudeservetoknow,”shesaidfinally.“ThenightGroverwasescortingustocamp,hegot

confused,tooksomewrongturns.Yourememberhetoldyouthatonce?”Inodded.“Well,theworstwrongturnwasintoaCyclops’slairinBrooklyn.”

“They’vegotCyclopesinBrooklyn?”Iasked.“Youwouldn’tbelievehowmany,butthat’snotthepoint.ThisCyclops,hetrickedus.Hemanaged

tosplitusupinsidethismazeofcorridorsinanoldhouseinFlatbush.Andhecouldsoundlikeanyone,Percy.JustthewayTysondidaboardthePrincessAndromeda.Heluredus,oneattime.ThaliathoughtshewasrunningtosaveLuke.Lukethoughtheheardmescreamforhelp.Andme...Iwasaloneinthedark.Iwassevenyearsold.Icouldn’tevenfindtheexit.”

Shebrushedthehairoutofherface.“Irememberfindingthemainroom.Therewerebonesalloverthefloor.AndtherewereThaliaandLukeandGrover,tiedupandgagged,hangingfromtheceilinglikesmokedhams.TheCyclopswasstartingafireinthemiddleofthefloor.Idrewmyknife,butheheardme.Heturnedandsmiled.Hespoke,andsomehowheknewmydad’svoice.Iguesshejustpluckeditoutofmymind.Hesaid,‘Now,Annabeth,don’tyouworry.Iloveyou.Youcanstayherewithme.Youcanstayforever.’”

Ishivered.Thewayshetoldit—evennow,sixyearslater—freakedmeoutworsethananyghoststoryI’deverheard.“Whatdidyoudo?”

“Istabbedhiminthefoot.”Istaredather.“Areyoukidding?YouweresevenyearsoldandyoustabbedagrownCyclopsinthe

foot?”“Oh,hewould’vekilledme.ButIsurprisedhim.ItgavemejustenoughtimetoruntoThaliaandcut

theropesonherhands.Shetookitfromthere.”“Yeah,butstill...thatwasprettybrave,Annabeth.”Sheshookherhead.“Webarelygotoutalive.Istillhavenightmares,Percy.ThewaythatCyclops

talkedinmyfather’svoice.Itwashisfaultwetooksolonggettingtocamp.Allthemonsterswho’dbeenchasingushadtimetocatchup.That’sreallywhyThaliadied.Ifithadn’tbeenforthatCyclops,she’dstillbealivetoday.”

Wesatonthedeck,watchingtheHerculesconstellationriseinthenightsky.“Gobelow,”Annabethtoldmeatlast.“Youneedsomerest.”Inodded.Myeyeswereheavy.ButwhenIgotbelowandfoundahammock,ittookmealongtimeto

fallasleep.IkeptthinkingaboutAnnabeth’sstory.Iwondered,ifIwereher,wouldIhavehadenoughcouragetogoonthisquest,tosailstraighttowardthelairofanotherCyclops?

Ididn’tdreamaboutGrover.InsteadIfoundmyselfbackinLuke’sstateroomaboardthePrincessAndromeda.Thecurtainswere

open.Itwasnighttimeoutside.Theairswirledwithshadows.Voiceswhisperedallaroundme—spiritsofthedead.

Beware,theywhispered.Traps.Trickery.Kronos’sgoldensarcophagusglowedfaintly—theonlysourceoflightintheroom.Acoldlaughstartledme.Itseemedtocomefrommilesbelowtheship.Youdon’thavethecourage,

youngone.Youcan’tstopme.IknewwhatIhadtodo.Ihadtoopenthatcoffin.IuncappedRiptide.Ghostswhirledaroundmelikeatornado.Beware!Myheartpounded.Icouldn’tmakemyfeetmove,butIhadtostopKronos.Ihadtodestroywhatever

wasinthatbox.Thenagirlspokerightnexttome:“Well,SeaweedBrain?”

Ilookedover,expectingtoseeAnnabeth,butthegirlwasn’tAnnabeth.Sheworepunk-styleclotheswithsilverchainsonherwrists.Shehadspikyblackhair,darkeyelineraroundherstormyblueeyes,andasprayoffrecklesacrosshernose.Shelookedfamiliar,butIwasn’tsurewhy.

“Well?”sheasked.“Arewegoingtostophimornot?”Icouldn’tanswer.Icouldn’tmove.Thegirlrolledhereyes.“Fine.LeaveittomeandAegis.”Shetappedherwristandhersilverchainstransformed—flatteningandexpandingintoahugeshield.

Itwassilverandbronze,withthemonstrousfaceofMedusaprotrudingfromthecenter.Itlookedlikeadeathmask,asifthegorgon’srealheadhadbeenpressedintothemetal.Ididn’tknowifthatwastrue,oriftheshieldcouldreallypetrifyme,butIlookedaway.Justbeingnearitmademecoldwithfear.Igotafeelingthatinarealfight,thebearerofthatshieldwouldbealmostimpossibletobeat.Anysaneenemywouldturnandrun.

Thegirldrewherswordandadvancedonthesarcophagus.Theshadowyghostspartedforher,scatteringbeforetheterribleauraofhershield.

“No,”Itriedtowarnher.Butshedidn’tlisten.Shemarchedstraightuptothesarcophagusandpushedasidethegoldenlid.Foramomentshestoodthere,gazingdownatwhateverwasinthebox.Thecoffinbegantoglow.“No.”Thegirl’svoicetrembled.“Itcan’tbe.”Fromthedepthsoftheocean,Kronoslaughedsoloudlythewholeshiptrembled.“No!”Thegirlscreamedasthesarcophagusengulfedherinablastofagoldenlight.“Ah!”Isatboltuprightinmyhammock.Annabethwasshakingme.“Percy,youwerehavinganightmare.Youneedtogetup.”“Wh—whatisit?”Irubbedmyeyes.“What’swrong?”“Land,”shesaidgrimly.“We’reapproachingtheislandoftheSirens.”

Icouldbarelymakeouttheislandaheadofus—justadarkspotinthemist.“Iwantyoutodomeafavor,”Annabethsaid.“TheSirens...we’llbeinrangeoftheirsinging

soon.”IrememberedstoriesabouttheSirens.Theysangsosweetlytheirvoicesenchantedsailorsandlured

themtotheirdeath.“Noproblem,”Iassuredher.“Wecanjuststopupourears.There’sabigtubofcandlewaxbelow

deck—”“Iwanttohearthem.”Iblinked.“Why?”“TheysaytheSirenssingthetruthaboutwhatyoudesire.Theytellyouthingsaboutyourselfyou

didn’tevenrealize.That’swhat’ssoenchanting.Ifyousurvive...youbecomewiser.Iwanttohearthem.HowoftenwillIgetthatchance?”

Comingfrommostpeople,thiswould’vemadenosense.ButAnnabethbeingwhoshewas—well,ifshecouldstrugglethroughAncientGreekarchitecturebooksandenjoydocumentariesontheHistoryChannel,IguessedtheSirenswouldappealtoher,too.

Shetoldmeherplan.Reluctantly,Ihelpedhergetready.

Assoonastherockycoastlineoftheislandcameintoview,IorderedoneoftheropestowraparoundAnnabeth’swaist,tyinghertotheforemast.

“Don’tuntieme,”shesaid,“nomatterwhathappensorhowmuchIplead.I’llwanttogostraightovertheedgeanddrownmyself.”

“Areyoutryingtotemptme?”“Ha-ha.”IpromisedI’dkeephersecure.ThenItooktwolargewadsofcandlewax,kneadedtheminto

earplugs,andstuffedmyears.Annabethnoddedsarcastically,lettingmeknowtheearplugswerearealfashionstatement.Imadea

faceatherandturnedtothepilot’swheel.Thesilencewaseerie.Icouldn’thearanythingbuttherushofbloodinmyhead.Asweapproached

theisland,jaggedrocksloomedoutofthefog.IwilledtheQueenAnne’sRevengetoskirtaroundthem.Ifwesailedanycloser,thoserockswouldshredourhulllikeblenderblades.

Iglancedback.Atfirst,Annabethseemedtotallynormal.Thenshegotapuzzledlookonherface.Hereyeswidened.

Shestrainedagainsttheropes.Shecalledmyname—Icouldtelljustfromreadingherlips.Herexpressionwasclear:Shehadtogetout.Thiswaslifeordeath.Ihadtoletheroutoftheropesrightnow.

Sheseemedsomiserableitwashardnottocutherfree.Iforcedmyselftolookaway.IurgedtheQueenAnne’sRevengetogofaster.Istillcouldn’tseemuchoftheisland—justmistandrocks—butfloatinginthewaterwerepiecesof

woodandfiberglass,thewreckageofoldships,evensomeflotationcushionsfromairplanes.Howcouldmusiccausesomanylivestoveeroffcourse?Imean,sure,thereweresomeTopForty

songsthatmademewanttotakeafierynosedive,butstill...WhatcouldtheSirenspossiblysingabout?Foronedangerousmoment,IunderstoodAnnabeth’scuriosity.Iwastemptedtotakeoutthe

earplugs,justtogetatasteofthesong.IcouldfeeltheSirens’voicesvibratinginthetimbersoftheship,pulsingalongwiththeroarofbloodinmyears.

Annabethwaspleadingwithme.Tearsstreameddownhercheeks.Shestrainedagainsttheropes,asiftheywereholdingherbackfromeverythingshecaredabout.

Howcouldyoubesocruel?Sheseemedtobeaskingme.Ithoughtyouweremyfriend.Iglaredatthemistyisland.Iwantedtouncapmysword,buttherewasnothingtofight.Howdoyou

fightasong?ItriedhardnottolookatAnnabeth.Imanageditforaboutfiveminutes.Thatwasmybigmistake.WhenIcouldn’tstanditanylonger,Ilookedbackandfound...aheapofcutropes.Anemptymast.

Annabeth’sbronzeknifelayonthedeck.Somehow,she’dmanagedtowriggleitintoherhand.I’dtotallyforgottentodisarmher.

Irushedtothesideoftheboatandsawher,paddlingmadlyfortheisland,thewavescarryingherstraighttowardthejaggedrocks.

Iscreamedhername,butifsheheardme,itdidn’tdoanygood.Shewasentranced,swimmingtowardherdeath.

Ilookedbackatthepilot’swheelandyelled,“Stay!”

ThenIjumpedovertheside.Islicedintothewaterandwilledthecurrentstobendaroundme,makingajetstreamthatshotme

forward.IcametothesurfaceandspottedAnnabeth,butawavecaughther,sweepingherbetweentworazor-

sharpfangsofrock.Ihadnochoice.Iplungedafterher.Idoveunderthewreckedhullofayacht,wovethroughacollectionoffloatingmetalballsonchains

thatIrealizedafterwardweremines.Ihadtouseallmypoweroverwatertoavoidgettingsmashedagainsttherocksortangledinthenetsofbarbedwirestrungjustbelowthesurface.

Ijettedbetweenthetworockfangsandfoundmyselfinahalf-moon-shapedbay.Thewaterwaschokedwithmorerocksandshipwreckageandfloatingmines.Thebeachwasblackvolcanicsand.

IlookedarounddesperatelyforAnnabeth.Thereshewas.Luckilyorunluckily,shewasastrongswimmer.She’dmadeitpasttheminesandtherocks.Shewas

almosttotheblackbeach.ThenthemistclearedandIsawthem—theSirens.Imagineaflockofvulturesthesizeofpeople—withdirtyblackplumage,graytalons,andwrinkled

pinknecks.Nowimaginehumanheadsontopofthosenecks,butthehumanheadskeepchanging.Icouldn’thearthem,butIcouldseetheyweresinging.Astheirmouthsmoved,theirfacesmorphed

intopeopleIknew—mymom,Poseidon,Grover,Tyson,Chiron.AllthepeopleImostwantedtosee.Theysmiledreassuringly,invitingmeforward.Butnomatterwhatshapetheytook,theirmouthsweregreasyandcakedwiththeremnantsofoldmeals.Likevultures,they’dbeeneatingwiththeirfaces,anditdidn’tlooklikethey’dbeenfeastingonMonsterDonuts.

Annabethswamtowardthem.IknewIcouldn’tlethergetoutofthewater.Theseawasmyonlyadvantage.Ithadalways

protectedmeonewayoranother.Ipropelledmyselfforwardandgrabbedherankle.ThemomentItouchedher,ashockwentthroughmybody,andIsawtheSirensthewayAnnabeth

must’vebeenseeingthem.ThreepeoplesatonapicnicblanketinCentralPark.Afeastwasspreadoutbeforethem.I

recognizedAnnabeth’sdadfromphotosshe’dshownme—anathletic-looking,sandy-hairedguyinhisforties.HewasholdinghandswithabeautifulwomanwholookedalotlikeAnnabeth.Shewasdressedcasually—inbluejeansandadenimshirtandhikingboots—butsomethingaboutthewomanradiatedpower.IknewthatIwaslookingatthegoddessAthena.Nexttothemsatayoungman...Luke.

Thewholesceneglowedinawarm,butterylight.Thethreeofthemweretalkingandlaughing,andwhentheysawAnnabeth,theirfaceslitupwithdelight.Annabeth’smomanddadheldouttheirarmsinvitingly.LukegrinnedandgesturedforAnnabethtositnexttohim—asifhe’dneverbetrayedher,asifhewerestillherfriend.

BehindthetreesofCentralPark,acityskylinerose.Icaughtmybreath,becauseitwasManhattan,butnotManhattan.Ithadbeentotallyrebuiltfromdazzlingwhitemarble,biggerandgranderthanever—withgoldenwindowsandrooftopgardens.ItwasbetterthanNewYork.BetterthanMountOlympus.

IknewimmediatelythatAnnabethhaddesigneditall.Shewasthearchitectforawholenewworld.Shehadreunitedherparents.ShehadsavedLuke.Shehaddoneeverythingshe’deverwanted.

Iblinkedhard.WhenIopenedmyeyes,allIsawweretheSirens—raggedvultureswithhuman

faces,readytofeedonanothervictim.IpulledAnnabethbackintothesurf.Icouldn’thearher,butIcouldtellshewasscreaming.She

kickedmeintheface,butIheldon.Iwilledthecurrentstocarryusoutintothebay.Annabethpummeledandkickedme,makingithard

toconcentrate.Shethrashedsomuchwealmostcollidedwithafloatingmine.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.I’dnevergetbacktotheshipaliveifshekeptfighting.

WewentunderandAnnabethstoppedstruggling.Herexpressionbecameconfused.Thenourheadsbrokethesurfaceandshestartedtofightagain.

Thewater!Sounddidn’ttravelwellunderwater.IfIcouldsubmergeherlongenough,Icouldbreakthespellofthemusic.Ofcourse,Annabethwouldn’tbeabletobreathe,butatthemoment,thatseemedlikeaminorproblem.

Igrabbedheraroundthewaistandorderedthewavestopushusdown.Weshotintothedepths—tenfeet,twentyfeet.IknewIhadtobecarefulbecauseIcouldwithstanda

lotmorepressurethanAnnabeth.Shefoughtandstruggledforbreathasbubblesrosearoundus.Bubbles.Iwasdesperate.IhadtokeepAnnabethalive.Iimaginedallthebubblesinthesea—always

churning,rising.Iimaginedthemcomingtogether,beingpulledtowardme.Theseaobeyed.Therewasaflurryofwhite,aticklingsensationallaroundme,andwhenmyvision

cleared,AnnabethandIhadahugebubbleofairaroundus.Onlyourlegsstuckintothewater.Shegaspedandcoughed.Herwholebodyshuddered,butwhenshelookedatme,Iknewthespell

hadbeenbroken.Shestartedtosob—Imeanhorrible,heartbrokensobbing.SheputherheadonmyshoulderandI

heldher.Fishgatheredtolookatus—aschoolofbarracudas,somecuriousmarlins.Scram!Itoldthem.Theyswamoff,butIcouldtelltheywentreluctantly.IswearIunderstoodtheirintentions.They

wereabouttostartrumorsflyingaroundtheseaaboutthesonofPoseidonandsomegirlatthebottomofSirenBay.

“I’llgetusbacktotheship,”Itoldher.“It’sokay.Justhangon.”Annabethnoddedtoletmeknowshewasbetternow,thenshemurmuredsomethingIcouldn’thear

becauseofthewaxinmyears.Imadethecurrentsteerourweirdlittleairsubmarinethroughtherocksandbarbedwireandback

towardthehulloftheQueenAnne’sRevenge,whichwasmaintainingaslowandsteadycourseawayfromtheisland.

Westayedunderwater,followingtheship,untilIjudgedwehadmovedoutofearshotoftheSirens.ThenIsurfacedandourairbubblepopped.

Iorderedaropeladdertodropoverthesideoftheship,andweclimbedaboard.Ikeptmyearplugsin,justtobesure.Wesaileduntiltheislandwascompletelyoutofsight.

Annabethsathuddledinablanketontheforwarddeck.Finallyshelookedup,dazedandsad,andmouthed,safe.

Itookouttheearplugs.Nosinging.Theafternoonwasquietexceptforthesoundofthewavesagainstthehull.Thefoghadburnedawaytoabluesky,asiftheislandoftheSirenshadneverexisted.

“Youokay?”Iasked.ThemomentIsaidit,Irealizedhowlamethatsounded.Ofcourseshewasn’tokay.

“Ididn’trealize,”shemurmured.“What?”HereyeswerethesamecolorasthemistovertheSirens’island.“Howpowerfulthetemptation

wouldbe.”Ididn’twanttoadmitthatI’dseenwhattheSirenshadpromisedher.Ifeltlikeatrespasser.ButI

figuredIowedittoAnnabeth.“IsawthewayyourebuiltManhattan,”Itoldher.“AndLukeandyourparents.”Sheblushed.“Yousawthat?”“WhatLuketoldyoubackonthePrincessAndromeda,aboutstartingtheworldfromscratch...that

reallygottoyou,huh?”Shepulledherblanketaroundher.“Myfatalflaw.That’swhattheSirensshowedme.Myfatalflaw

ishubris.”Iblinked.“Thatbrownstufftheyspreadonveggiesandwiches?”Sherolledhereyes.“No,SeaweedBrain.That’shummus.Hubrisisworse.”“Whatcouldbeworsethanhummus?”“Hubrismeansdeadlypride,Percy.Thinkingyoucandothingsbetterthananyoneelse...eventhe

gods.”“Youfeelthatway?”Shelookeddown.“Don’tyoueverfeellike,whatiftheworldreallyismessedup?Whatifwe

coulddoitalloveragainfromscratch?Nomorewar.Nobodyhomeless.Nomoresummerreadinghomework.”

“I’mlistening.”“Imean,theWestrepresentsalotofthebestthingsmankindeverdid—that’swhythefireisstill

burning.That’swhyOlympusisstillaround.Butsometimesyoujustseethebadstuff,youknow?AndyoustartthinkingthewayLukedoes:‘IfIcouldtearthisalldown,Iwoulddoitbetter.’Don’tyoueverfeelthatway?Likeyoucoulddoabetterjobifyourantheworld?”

“Um...no.Merunningtheworldwouldkindofbeanightmare.”“Thenyou’relucky.Hubrisisn’tyourfatalflaw.”“Whatis?”“Idon’tknow,Percy,buteveryherohasone.Ifyoudon’tfinditandlearntocontrolit...well,they

don’tcallit‘fatal’fornothing.”Ithoughtaboutthat.Itdidn’texactlycheermeup.IalsonoticedAnnabethhadn’tsaidmuchaboutthepersonalthingsshewouldchange—likegetting

herparentsbacktogether,orsavingLuke.Iunderstood.Ididn’twanttoadmithowmanytimesI’ddreamedofgettingmyownparentsbacktogether.

Ipicturedmymom,aloneinourlittleapartmentontheUpperEastSide.Itriedtorememberthesmellofherbluewafflesinthekitchen.Itseemedsofaraway.

“Sowasitworthit?”IaskedAnnabeth.“Doyoufeel...wiser?”Shegazedintothedistance.“I’mnotsure.Butwehavetosavethecamp.Ifwedon’tstopLuke...”

Shedidn’tneedtofinish.IfLuke’swayofthinkingcouldeventemptAnnabeth,therewasnotellinghowmanyotherhalf-bloodsmightjoinhim.

Ithoughtaboutmydreamofthegirlandthegoldensarcophagus.Iwasn’tsurewhatitmeant,butIgotthefeelingIwasmissingsomething.SomethingterriblethatKronoswasplanning.Whathadthegirlseenwhensheopenedthatcoffinlid?

SuddenlyAnnabeth’seyeswidened.“Percy.”Iturned.Upaheadwasanotherblotchofland—asaddle-shapedislandwithforestedhillsandwhitebeaches

andgreenmeadows—justlikeI’dseeninmydreams.Mynauticalsensesconfirmedit.30degrees,31minutesnorth,75degrees,12minuteswest.WehadreachedthehomeoftheCyclops.

FOURTEEN

WEMEETTHESHEEPOFDOOM

Whenyouthink“monsterisland,”youthinkcraggyrocksandbonesscatteredonthebeachliketheislandoftheSirens.

TheCyclops’sislandwasnothinglikethat.Imean,okay,ithadaropebridgeacrossachasm,whichwasnotagoodsign.Youmightaswellputupabillboardthatsaid,SOMETHINGEVILLIVESHERE.Butexceptforthat,theplacelookedlikeaCaribbeanpostcard.Ithadgreenfieldsandtropicalfruittreesandwhitebeaches.Aswesailedtowardtheshore,Annabethbreathedinthesweetair.“TheFleece,”shesaid.

Inodded.Icouldn’tseetheFleeceyet,butIcouldfeelitspower.Icouldbelieveitwouldhealanything,evenThalia’spoisonedtree.“Ifwetakeitaway,willtheislanddie?”

Annabethshookherhead.“It’llfade.Gobacktowhatitwouldbenormally,whateverthatis.”Ifeltalittleguiltyaboutruiningthisparadise,butIremindedmyselfwehadnochoice.CampHalf-

Bloodwasintrouble.AndTyson...Tysonwouldstillbewithusifitwasn’tforthisquest.Inthemeadowatthebaseoftheravine,severaldozensheepweremillingaround.Theylooked

peacefulenough,buttheywerehuge—thesizeofhippos.Justpastthemwasapaththatledupintothehills.Atthetopofthepath,neartheedgeofthecanyon,wasthemassiveoaktreeI’dseeninmydreams.Somethinggoldglitteredinitsbranches.

“Thisistooeasy,”Isaid.“Wecouldjusthikeupthereandtakeit?”Annabeth’seyesnarrowed.“There’ssupposedbeaguardian.Adragonor...”That’swhenadeeremergedfromthebushes.Ittrottedintothemeadow,probablylookingforgrass

toeat,whenthesheepallbleatedatonceandrushedtheanimal.Ithappenedsofastthatthedeerstumbledandwaslostinaseaofwoolandtramplinghooves.

Grassandtuftsoffurflewintotheair.Asecondlaterthesheepallmovedaway,backtotheirregularpeacefulwanderings.Wherethedeer

hadbeenwasapileofcleanwhitebones.AnnabethandIexchangedlooks.“They’relikepiranhas,”shesaid.“Piranhaswithwool.Howwillwe—”“Percy!”Annabethgasped,grabbingmyarm.“Look.”Shepointeddownthebeach,tojustbelowthesheepmeadow,whereasmallboathadbeenrun

aground...theotherlifeboatfromtheCSSBirmingham.

Wedecidedtherewasnowaywecouldgetpasttheman-eatingsheep.AnnabethwantedtosneakupthepathinvisiblyandgrabtheFleece,butintheendIconvincedherthatsomethingwouldgowrong.Thesheepwouldsmellher.Anotherguardianwouldappear.Something.Andifthathappened,I’dbetoofarawaytohelp.

Besides,ourfirstjobwastofindGroverandwhoeverhadcomeashoreinthatlifeboat—assumingthey’dgottenpastthesheep.IwastoonervoustosaywhatIwassecretlyhoping...thatTysonmightstillbealive.

WemooredtheQueenAnne’sRevengeonthebacksideoftheislandwherethecliffsrosestraightupagoodtwohundredfeet.Ifiguredtheshipwaslesslikelytobeseenthere.

Thecliffslookedclimbable,barely—aboutasdifficultasthelavawallbackatcamp.Atleastitwasfreeofsheep.IhopedthatPolyphemusdidnotalsokeepcarnivorousmountaingoats.

Werowedalifeboattotheedgeoftherocksandmadeourwayup,veryslowly.Annabethwentfirstbecauseshewasthebetterclimber.

Weonlycameclosetodyingsixorseventimes,whichIthoughtwasprettygood.Once,IlostmygripandIfoundmyselfdanglingbyonehandfromaledgefiftyfeetabovetherockysurf.ButIfoundanotherhandholdandkeptclimbing.AminutelaterAnnabethhitaslipperypatchofmossandherfootslipped.Fortunately,shefoundsomethingelsetoputitagainst.Unfortunately,thatsomethingwasmyface.

“Sorry,”shemurmured.“S’okay,”Igrunted,thoughI’dneverreallywantedtoknowwhatAnnabeth’ssneakertastedlike.Finally,whenmyfingersfeltlikemoltenleadandmyarmmuscleswereshakingfromexhaustion,we

hauledourselvesoverthetopofthecliffandcollapsed.“Ugh,”Isaid.“Ouch,”moanedAnnabeth.“Garrr!”bellowedanothervoice.IfIhadn’tbeensotired,Iwould’veleapedanothertwohundredfeet.Iwhirledaround,butIcouldn’t

seewho’dspoken.Annabethclampedherhandovermymouth.Shepointed.TheledgeweweresittingonwasnarrowerthanI’drealized.Itdroppedoffontheoppositeside,

andthat’swherethevoicewascomingfrom—rightbelowus.“You’reafeistyone!”thedeepvoicebellowed.“Challengeme!”Clarisse’svoice,nodoubtaboutit.“GivemebackmyswordandI’llfightyou!”Themonsterroaredwithlaughter.AnnabethandIcrepttotheedge.WewererightabovetheentranceoftheCyclops’scave.Belowus

stoodPolyphemusandGrover,stillinhisweddingdress.Clarissewastiedup,hangingupsidedownoverapotofboilingwater.IwashalfhopingtoseeTysondownthere,too.Evenifhe’dbeenindanger,atleastIwould’veknownhewasalive.Buttherewasnosignofhim.

“Hmm,”Polyphemuspondered.“Eatloudmouthgirlnoworwaitforweddingfeast?Whatdoesmybridethink?”

HeturnedtoGrover,whobackedupandalmosttrippedoverhiscompletedbridaltrain.“Oh,um,I’mnothungryrightnow,dear.Perhaps—”

“Didyousaybride?”Clarissedemanded.“Who—Grover?”Nexttome,Annabethmuttered,“Shutup.Shehastoshutup.”Polyphemusglowered.“What‘Grover’?”“Thesatyr!”Clarisseyelled.“Oh!”Groveryelped.“Thepoorthing’sbrainisboilingfromthathotwater.Pullherdown,dear!”

Polyphemus’seyelidsnarrowedoverhisbalefulmilkyeye,asifheweretryingtoseeClarissemoreclearly.

TheCyclopswasanevenmorehorriblesightthanhehadbeeninmydreams.Partlybecausehisrancidsmellwasnowupcloseandpersonal.Partlybecausehewasdressedinhisweddingoutfit—acrudekiltandshoulder-wrap,stitchedtogetherfrombaby-bluetuxedoes,asifthehe’dskinnedanentireweddingparty.

“Whatsatyr?”askedPolyphemus.“Satyrsaregoodeating.Youbringmeasatyr?”“No,youbigidiot!”bellowedClarisse.“Thatsatyr!Grover!Theoneintheweddingdress!”IwantedtowringClarisse’sneck,butitwastoolate.AllIcoulddowaswatchasPolyphemus

turnedandrippedoffGrover’sweddingveil—revealinghiscurlyhair,hisscruffyadolescentbeard,histinyhorns.

Polyphemusbreathedheavily,tryingtocontainhisanger.“Idon’tseeverywell,”hegrowled.“Notsincemanyyearsagowhentheotherherostabbedmeineye.ButYOU’RE—NO—LADY—CYCLOPS!”

TheCyclopsgrabbedGrover’sdressandtoreitaway.Underneath,theoldGroverreappearedinhisjeansandT-shirt.Heyelpedandduckedasthemonsterswipedoverhishead.

“Stop!”Groverpleaded.“Don’teatmeraw!I—Ihaveagoodrecipe!”Ireachedformysword,butAnnabethhissed,“Wait!”Polyphemuswashesitating,aboulderinhishand,readytosmashhiswould-bebride.“Recipe?”heaskedGrover.“Ohy-yes!Youdon’twanttoeatmeraw.You’llgetEcoliandbotulismandallsortsofhorrible

things.I’lltastemuchbettergrilledoveraslowfire.Withmangochutney!Youcouldgogetsomemangosrightnow,downthereinthewoods.I’lljustwaithere.”

Themonsterponderedthis.Myhearthammeredagainstmyribs.IfiguredI’ddieifIcharged.ButIcouldn’tletthemonsterkillGrover.

“Grilledsatyrwithmangochutney,”Polyphemusmused.HelookedbackatClarisse,stillhangingoverthepotofboilingwater.“Youasatyr,too?”

“No,youovergrownpileofdung!”sheyelled.“I’magirl!ThedaughterofAres!NowuntiemesoIcanripyourarmsoff!”

“Ripmyarmsoff,”Polyphemusrepeated.“Andstuffthemdownyourthroat!”“Yougotspunk.”“Letmedown!”PolyphemussnatchedupGroverasifhewereawaywardpuppy.“Havetograzesheepnow.

Weddingpostponeduntiltonight.Thenwe’lleatsatyrforthemaincourse!”“But...you’restillgettingmarried?”Groversoundedhurt.“Who’sthebride?”Polyphemuslookedtowardtheboilingpot.Clarissemadeastrangledsound.“Oh,no!Youcan’tbeserious.I’mnot—”BeforeAnnabethorIcoulddoanything,Polyphemuspluckedherofftheropelikeshewasaripe

apple,andtossedherandGroverdeepintothecave.“Makeyourselfcomfortable!Icomebackatsundownforbigevent!”

ThentheCyclopswhistled,andamixedflockofgoatsandsheep—smallerthantheman-eaters—floodedoutofthecaveandpasttheirmaster.Astheywenttopasture,Polyphemuspattedsomeonthe

backandcalledthembyname—Beltbuster,Tammany,Lockhart,etc.Whenthelastsheephadwaddledout,Polyphemusrolledaboulderinfrontofthedoorwayaseasily

asIwouldclosearefrigeratordoor,shuttingoffthesoundofClarisseandGroverscreaminginside.“Mangos,”Polyphemusgrumbledtohimself.“Whataremangos?”Hestrolledoffdownthemountaininhisbaby-bluegroom’soutfit,leavingusalonewithapotof

boilingwaterandasix-tonboulder.

Wetriedforwhatseemedlikehours,butitwasnogood.Theboulderwouldn’tmove.Weyelledintothecracks,tappedontherock,dideverythingwecouldthinkoftogetasignaltoGrover,butifheheardus,wecouldn’ttell.

EvenifbysomemiraclewemanagedtokillPolyphemus,itwouldn’tdousanygood.GroverandClarissewoulddieinsidethatsealedcave.TheonlywaytomovetherockwastohavetheCyclopsdoit.

Intotalfrustration,IstabbedRiptideagainsttheboulder.Sparksflew,butnothingelsehappened.Alargerockisnotthekindofenemyyoucanfightwithamagicsword.

AnnabethandIsatontheridgeindespairandwatchedthedistantbaby-blueshapeoftheCyclopsashemovedamonghisflocks.Hehadwiselydividedhisregularanimalsfromhisman-eatingsheep,puttingeachgrouponeithersideofthehugecrevicethatdividedtheisland.Theonlywayacrosswastheropebridge,andtheplanksweremuchtoofarapartforsheephooves.

WewatchedasPolyphemusvisitedhiscarnivorousflockonthefarside.Unfortunately,theydidn’teathim.Infact,theydidn’tseemtobotherhimatall.Hefedthemchunksofmysterymeatfromagreatwickerbasket,whichonlyreinforcedthefeelingsI’dbeenhavingsinceCirceturnedmeintoaguineapig—thatmaybeitwastimeIjoinedGroverandbecameavegetarian.

“Trickery,”Annabethdecided.“Wecan’tbeathimbyforce,sowe’llhavetousetrickery.”“Okay,”Isaid.“Whattrick?’“Ihaven’tfiguredthatpartoutyet.”“Great.”“Polyphemuswillhavetomovetherocktoletthesheepinside.”“Atsunset,”Isaid.“Whichiswhenhe’llmarryClarisseandhaveGroverfordinner.I’mnotsure

whichisgrosser.”“Icouldgetinside,”shesaid,“invisibly.”“Whataboutme?”“Thesheep,”Annabethmused.Shegavemeoneofthoseslylooksthatalwaysmademewary.“How

muchdoyoulikesheep?”

“Justdon’tletgo!”Annabethsaid,standinginvisiblysomewhereofftomyright.Thatwaseasyforhertosay.Shewasn’thangingupsidedownfromthebellyofasheep.

Now,I’lladmititwasn’tashardasI’dthought.I’dcrawledunderacarbeforetochangemymom’soil,andthiswasn’ttoodifferent.Thesheepdidn’tcare.EventheCyclops’ssmallestsheepwerebigenoughtosupportmyweight,andtheyhadthickwool.Ijusttwirledthestuffintohandlesformyhands,hookedmyfeetagainstthesheep’sthighbones,andpresto—Ifeltlikeababywallaby,ridingaroundagainstthesheep’schest,tryingtokeepthewooloutofmymouthandmynose.

Incaseyou’rewondering,theundersideofasheepdoesn’tsmellthatgreat.Imagineawintersweaterthat’sbeendraggedthroughthemudandleftinthelaundryhamperforaweek.Somethinglike

that.Thesunwasgoingdown.NosoonerwasIinpositionthantheCyclopsroared,“Oy!Goaties!Sheepies!”Theflockdutifullybegantrudgingbackuptheslopestowardthecave.“Thisisit!”Annabethwhispered.“I’llbecloseby.Don’tworry.”Imadeasilentpromisetothegodsthatifwesurvivedthis,I’dtellAnnabethshewasagenius.The

frighteningthingwas,Iknewthegodswouldholdmetoit.Mysheeptaxistartedploddingupthehill.Afterahundredyards,myhandsandfeetstartedtohurt

fromholdingon.Igrippedthesheep’swoolmoretightly,andtheanimalmadeagrumblingsound.Ididn’tblameit.Iwouldn’twantanybodyrockclimbinginmyhaireither.ButifIdidn’tholdon,IwassureI’dfalloffrightthereinfrontofthemonster.

“Hasenpfeffer!”theCyclopssaid,pattingoneofthesheepinfrontofme.“Einstein!Widget—ehthere,Widget!”

Polyphemuspattedmysheepandnearlyknockedmetotheground.“Puttingonsomeextramuttonthere?”

Uh-oh,Ithought.Hereitcomes.ButPolyphemusjustlaughedandswattedthesheep’srearend,propellingusforward.“Goon,fatty!

SoonPolyphemuswilleatyouforbreakfast!”Andjustlikethat,Iwasinthecave.Icouldseethelastofthesheepcominginside.IfAnnabethdidn’tpulloffherdistractionsoon...TheCyclopswasabouttorollthestonebackintoplace,whenfromsomewhereoutsideAnnabeth

shouted,“Hello,ugly!”Polyphemusstiffened.“Whosaidthat?”“Nobody!”Annabethyelled.Thatgotexactlythereactionshe’dbeenhopingfor.Themonster’sfaceturnedredwithrage.“Nobody!”Polyphemusyelledback.“Irememberyou!”“You’retoostupidtorememberanybody,”Annabethtaunted.“MuchlessNobody.”Ihopedtothegodsshewasalreadymovingwhenshesaidthat,becausePolyphemusbellowed

furiously,grabbedthenearestboulder(whichhappenedtobehisfrontdoor)andthrewittowardthesoundofAnnabeth’svoice.Iheardtherocksmashintoathousandfragments.

Foraterriblemoment,therewassilence.ThenAnnabethshouted,“Youhaven’tlearnedtothrowanybetter,either!”

Polyphemushowled.“Comehere!Letmekillyou,Nobody!”“Youcan’tkillNobody,youstupidoaf,”shetaunted.“Comefindme!”Polyphemusbarreleddownthehilltowardhervoice.Now,the“Nobody”thingwouldn’thavemadesensetoanybody,butAnnabethhadexplainedtome

thatitwasthenameOdysseushadusedtotrickPolyphemuscenturiesago,rightbeforehepokedtheCyclops’seyeoutwithalargehotstick.AnnabethhadfiguredPolyphemuswouldstillhaveagrudgeaboutthatname,andshewasright.Inhisfrenzytofindhisoldenemy,heforgotaboutresealingthecaveentrance.Apparently,hedidn’tevenstoptoconsiderthatAnnabeth’svoicewasfemale,whereasthefirstNobodyhadbeenmale.Ontheotherhand,he’dwantedtomarryGrover,sohecouldn’thavebeenallthatbrightaboutthewholemale/femalething.

IjusthopedAnnabethcouldstayaliveandkeepdistractinghimlongenoughformetofindGroverandClarisse.

Idroppedoffmyride,pattedWidgetonthehead,andapologized.Isearchedthemainroom,buttherewasnosignofGroverorClarisse.Ipushedthroughthecrowdofsheepandgoatstowardthebackofthecave.

EventhoughI’ddreamedaboutthisplace,Ihadahardtimefindingmywaythroughthemaze.Irandowncorridorslitteredwithbones,pastroomsfullofsheepskinrugsandlife-sizecementsheepthatIrecognizedastheworkofMedusa.TherewerecollectionsofsheepT-shirts;largetubsoflanolincream;andwoolycoats,socks,andhatswithram’shorns.Finally,Ifoundthespinningroom,whereGroverwashuddledinthecorner,tryingtocutClarisse’sbondswithapairofsafetyscissors.

“It’snogood,”Clarissesaid.“Thisropeislikeiron!”“Justafewmoreminutes!”“Grover,”shecried,exasperated.“You’vebeenworkingatitforhours!”Andthentheysawme.“Percy?”Clarissesaid.“You’resupposedtobeblownup!”“Goodtoseeyou,too.NowholdstillwhileI—”“Perrrrrcy!”Groverbleatedandtackledmewithagoat-hug.“Youheardme!Youcame!”“Yeah,buddy,”Isaid.“OfcourseIcame.”“Where’sAnnabeth?”“Outside,”Isaid.“Butthere’snotimetotalk.Clarisse,holdstill.”IuncappedRiptideandslicedoffherropes.Shestoodstiffly,rubbingherwrists.Sheglaredatme

foramoment,thenlookedatthegroundandmumbled,“Thanks.”“You’rewelcome,”Isaid.“Now,wasanyoneelseonboardyourlifeboat?”Clarisselookedsurprised.“No.Justme.EverybodyelseaboardtheBirmingham...well,Ididn’t

evenknowyouguysmadeitout.”Ilookeddown,tryingnottobelievethatmylasthopeofseeingTysonalivehadjustbeencrushed.

“Okay.Comeon,then.Wehavetohelp—”Anexplosionechoedthroughthecave,followedbyascreamthattoldmewemightbetoolate.It

wasAnnabethcryingoutinfear.

FIFTEEN

NOBODYGETSTHEFLEECE

“IgotNobody!”Polyphemusgloated.WecrepttothecaveentranceandsawtheCyclops,grinningwickedly,holdingupemptyair.The

monstershookhisfist,andabaseballcapflutteredtotheground.TherewasAnnabeth,hangingupsidedownbyherlegs.

“Hah!”theCyclopssaid.“Nastyinvisiblegirl!Alreadygotfeistyoneforwife.Meansyougottabegrilledwithmangochutney!”

Annabethstruggled,butshelookeddazed.Shehadanastycutonherforehead.Hereyeswereglassy.“I’llrushhim,”IwhisperedtoClarisse.“Ourshipisaroundthebackoftheisland.YouandGrover

—”“Noway,”theysaidatthesametime.Clarissehadarmedherselfwithahighlycollectibleram’s-

hornspearfromtheCyclops’scave.Groverhadfoundasheep’sthighbone,whichhedidn’tlooktoohappyabout,buthewasgrippingitlikeaclub,readytoattack.

“We’lltakehimtogether,”Clarissegrowled.“Yeah,”Groversaid.Thenheblinked,likehecouldn’tbelievehe’djustagreedwithClarisseabout

something.“Allright,”Isaid.“AttackplanMacedonia.”Theynodded.We’dalltakenthesametrainingcoursesatCampHalf-Blood.TheyknewwhatIwas

talkingabout.TheywouldsneakaroundeithersideandattacktheCyclopsfromtheflankswhileIheldhisattentioninthefront.Probablywhatthismeantwasthatwe’dalldieinsteadofjustme,butIwasgratefulforthehelp.

Iheftedmyswordandshouted,“Hey,Ugly!”Thegiantwhirledtowardme.“Anotherone?Whoareyou?”“Putdownmyfriend.I’mtheonewhoinsultedyou.”“YouareNobody?”“That’sright,yousmellybucketofnosedrool!”Itdidn’tsoundquiteasgoodasAnnabeth’sinsults,

butitwasallIcouldthinkof.“I’mNobodyandI’mproudofit!Now,putherdownandgetoverhere.Iwanttostabyoureyeoutagain.”

“RAAAR!”hebellowed.Thegoodnews:hedroppedAnnabeth.Thebadnews:hedroppedherheadfirstontotherocks,

whereshelaymotionlessasaragdoll.Theotherbadnews:Polyphemusbarreledtowardme,athousandsmellypoundsofCyclopsthatI

wouldhavetofightwithaverysmallsword.“ForPan!”Groverrushedinfromtheright.Hethrewhissheepbone,whichbouncedharmlesslyoff

themonster’sforehead.ClarisseraninfromtheleftandsetherspearagainstthegroundjustintimefortheCyclopstosteponit.Hewailedinpain,andClarissedoveoutofthewaytoavoidgettingtrampled.

ButtheCyclopsjustpluckedouttheshaftlikealargesplinterandkeptadvancingonme.ImovedinwithRiptide.Themonstermadeagrabforme.Irolledasideandstabbedhiminthethigh.Iwashopingtoseehimdisintegrate,butthismonsterwasmuchtoobigandpowerful.“GetAnnabeth!”IyelledatGrover.Herushedover,grabbedherinvisibilitycap,andpickedherupwhileClarisseandItriedtokeep

Polyphemusdistracted.Ihavetoadmit,Clarissewasbrave.ShechargedtheCyclopsagainandagain.Hepoundedthe

ground,stompedather,grabbedather,butshewastooquick.Andassoonasshemadeanattack,Ifollowedupbystabbingthemonsterinthetoeortheankleorthehand.

Butwecouldn’tkeepthisupforever.Eventuallywewouldtireorthemonsterwouldgetinaluckyshot.Itwouldonlytakeonehittokillus.

Outofthecornerofmyeye,IsawGrovercarryingAnnabethacrosstheropebridge.Itwouldn’thavebeenmyfirstchoice,giventheman-eatingsheepontheotherside,butatthemomentthatlookedbetterthanthissideofthechasm,anditgavemeanidea.

“Fallback!”ItoldClarisse.SherolledawayastheCyclops’sfistsmashedtheolivetreebesideher.Weranforthebridge,Polyphemusrightbehindus.Hewascutupandhobblingfromsomany

wounds,butallwe’ddonewasslowhimdownandmakehimmad.“Grindyouintosheepchow!”hepromised.“AthousandcursesonNobody!”“Faster!”ItoldClarisse.Wetoredownthehill.Thebridgewasouronlychance.Groverhadjustmadeittotheothersideand

wassettingAnnabethdown.Wehadtomakeitacross,too,beforethegiantcaughtus.“Grover!”Iyelled.“GetAnnabeth’sknife!”HiseyeswidenedwhenhesawtheCyclopsbehindus,buthenoddedlikeheunderstood.As

ClarisseandIscrambledacrossthebridge,Groverbegansawingattheropes.Thefirststrandwentsnap!Polyphemusboundedafterus,makingthebridgeswaywildly.Theropeswerenowhalfcut.ClarisseandIdoveforsolidground,landingbesideGrover.Imadea

wildslashwithmyswordandcuttheremainingropes.Thebridgefellawayintothechasm,andtheCyclopshowled...withdelight,becausehewas

standingrightnexttous.“Failed!”heyelledgleefully.“Nobodyfailed!”ClarisseandGrovertriedtochargehim,butthemonsterswattedthemasidelikeflies.Myangerswelled.Icouldn’tbelieveI’dcomethisfar,lostTyson,sufferedthroughsomuch,onlyto

fail—stoppedbyabigstupidmonsterinababy-bluetuxedokilt.Nobodywasgoingtoswatdownmyfriendslikethat!Imean...nobody,notNobody.Ah,youknowwhatImean.

Strengthcoursedthroughmybody.Iraisedmyswordandattacked,forgettingthatIwashopelesslyoutmatched.IjabbedtheCyclopsinthebelly.WhenhedoubledoverIsmackedhiminthenosewiththehiltofmysword.IslashedandkickedandbasheduntilthenextthingIknew,Polyphemuswassprawledonhisback,dazedandgroaning,andIwasstandingabovehim,thetipofmyswordhoveringoverhiseye.

“Uhhhhhhhh,”Polyphemusmoaned.“Percy!”Grovergasped.“Howdidyou—”“Please,noooo!”theCyclopsmoaned,pitifullystaringupatme.Hisnosewasbleeding.Atear

welledinthecornerofhishalf-blindeye.“M-m-mysheepiesneedme.Onlytryingtoprotectmysheep!”Hebegantosob.Ihadwon.AllIhadtodowasstab—onequickstrike.“Killhim!”Clarisseyelled.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?”TheCyclopssoundedsoheartbroken,justlike...likeTyson.“He’saCyclops!”Groverwarned.“Don’ttrusthim!”Iknewhewasright.IknewAnnabethwould’vesaidthesamething.ButPolyphemussobbed...andforthefirsttimeitsankinthathewasasonofPoseidon,too.Like

Tyson.Likeme.HowcouldIjustkillhimincoldblood?“WeonlywanttheFleece,”Itoldthemonster.“Willyouagreetoletustakeit?”“No!”Clarisseshouted.“Killhim!”Themonstersniffed.“MybeautifulFleece.Prizeofmycollection.Takeit,cruelhuman.Takeitand

goinpeace.”“I’mgoingtostepbackslowly,”Itoldthemonster.“Onefalsemove...”Polyphemusnoddedlikeheunderstood.Isteppedback...andasfastasacobra,Polyphemussmackedmetotheedgeofthecliff.“Foolishmortal!”hebellowed,risingtohisfeet.“TakemyFleece?Ha!Ieatyoufirst.”Heopenedhisenormousmouth,andIknewthathisrottenmolarswerethelastthingsIwouldever

see.Thensomethingwentwhooshovermyheadandthump!ArockthesizeofabasketballsailedintoPolyphemus’sthroat—abeautifulthree-pointer,nothingbut

net.TheCyclopschoked,tryingtoswallowtheunexpectedpill.Hestaggeredbackward,buttherewasnoplacetostagger.Hisheelslipped,theedgeofthecliffcrumbled,andthegreatPolyphemusmadechickenwingmotionsthatdidnothingtohelphimflyashetumbledintothechasm.

Iturned.Halfwaydownthepathtothebeach,standingcompletelyunharmedinthemidstofaflockofkiller

sheep,wasanoldfriend.“BadPolyphemus,”Tysonsaid.“NotallCyclopesasniceaswelook.”

Tysongaveustheshortversion:Rainbowthehippocampus—who’dapparentlybeenfollowinguseversincetheLongIslandSound,waitingforTysontoplaywithhim—hadfoundTysonsinkingbeneaththewreckageoftheCSSBirminghamandpulledhimtosafety.HeandTysonhadbeensearchingtheSeaofMonsterseversince,tryingtofindus,untilTysoncaughtthescentofsheepandfoundthisisland.

Iwantedtohugthebigoaf,excepthewasstandinginthemiddleofkillersheep.“Tyson,thankthegods.Annabethishurt!”

“Youthankthegodssheishurt?”heasked,puzzled.“No!”IkneltbesideAnnabethandwasworriedsickbywhatIsaw.Thegashonherforeheadwas

worsethanI’drealized.Herhairlinewasstickywithblood.Herskinwaspaleandclammy.GroverandIexchangednervouslooks.Thenanideacametome.“Tyson,theFleece.Canyougetit

forme?”“Whichone?”Tysonsaid,lookingaroundatthehundredsofsheep.“Inthetree!”Isaid.“Thegoldone!”“Oh.Pretty.Yes.”Tysonlumberedover,carefulnottosteponthesheep.IfanyofushadtriedtoapproachtheFleece,

wewould’vebeeneatenalive,butIguessTysonsmelledlikePolyphemus,becausetheflockdidn’tbotherhimatall.Theyjustcuddleduptohimandbleatedaffectionately,asthoughtheyexpectedtogetsheeptreatsfromthebigwickerbasket.TysonreachedupandliftedtheFleeceoffitsbranch.Immediatelytheleavesontheoaktreeturnedyellow.Tysonstartedwadingbacktowardme,butIyelled,“Notime!Throwit!”

ThegoldramskinsailedthroughtheairlikeaglitteringshagFrisbee.Icaughtitwithagrunt.ItwasheavierthanI’dexpected—sixtyorseventypoundsofpreciousgoldwool.

IspreaditoverAnnabeth,coveringeverythingbutherface,andprayedsilentlytoallthegodsIcouldthinkof,eventheonesIdidn’tlike.

Please.Please.Thecolorreturnedtoherface.Hereyelidsflutteredopen.Thecutonherforeheadbegantoclose.

ShesawGroverandsaidweakly,“You’renot...married?”Grovergrinned.“No.Myfriendstalkedmeoutofit.”“Annabeth,”Isaid,“justlaystill.”Butdespiteourprotestsshesatup,andInoticedthatthecutonherfacewasalmostcompletely

healed.Shelookedalotbetter.Infact,sheshimmeredwithhealth,asifsomeonehadinjectedherwithglitter.

Meanwhile,Tysonwasstartingtohavetroublewiththesheep.“Down!”hetoldthemastheytriedtoclimbhim,lookingforfood.Afewweresniffinginourdirection.“No,sheepies.Thisway!Comehere!”

Theyheededhim,butitwasobvioustheywerehungry,andtheywerestartingtorealizeTysondidn’thaveanytreatsforthem.Theywouldn’tholdoutforeverwithsomuchfreshmeatnearby.

“Wehavetogo,”Isaid.“Ourshipis...”TheQueenAnne’sRevengewasaverylongwayaway.Theshortestroutewasacrossthechasm,andwe’djustdestroyedtheonlybridge.Theonlyotherpossibilitywasthroughthesheep.

“Tyson,”Icalled,“canyouleadtheflockasfarawayaspossible?”“Thesheepwantfood.”“Iknow!Theywantpeoplefood!Justleadthemawayfromthepath.Giveustimetogettothebeach.

Thenjoinusthere.”Tysonlookeddoubtful,buthewhistled.“Come,sheepies!Um,peoplefoodthisway!”Hejoggedoffintothemeadow,thesheepinpursuit.“KeeptheFleecearoundyou,”ItoldAnnabeth.“Justincaseyou’renotfullyhealedyet.Canyou

stand?”Shetried,butherfaceturnedpaleagain.“Ohh.Notfullyhealed.”Clarissedroppednexttoherandfeltherchest,whichmadeAnnabethgasp.“Ribsbroken,”Clarissesaid.“They’remending,butdefinitelybroken.”

“Howcanyoutell?”Iasked.Clarisseglaredatme.“BecauseI’vebrokenafew,runt!I’llhavetocarryher.”BeforeIcouldargue,ClarissepickedupAnnabethlikeasackofflourandluggedherdowntothe

beach.GroverandIfollowed.Assoonaswegottotheedgeofthewater,IconcentratedontheQueenAnne’sRevenge.Iwilledit

toraiseanchorandcometome.Afterafewanxiousminutes,Isawtheshiproundingthetipoftheisland.“Incoming!”Tysonyelled.Hewasboundingdownthepathtojoinus,thesheepaboutfiftyyards

behind,bleatinginfrustrationastheirCyclopsfriendranawaywithoutfeedingthem.“Theyprobablywon’tfollowusintothewater,”Itoldtheothers.“Allwehavetodoisswimforthe

ship.”“WithAnnabethlikethis?”Clarisseprotested.“Wecandoit,”Iinsisted.Iwasstartingtofeelconfidentagain.Iwasbackinmyhometurf—thesea.

“Oncewegettotheship,we’rehomefree.”Wealmostmadeit,too.Wewerejustwadingpasttheentrancetotheravine,whenweheardatremendousroarandsaw

Polyphemus,scrapedupandbruisedbutstillverymuchalive,hisbaby-blueweddingoutfitintatters,splashingtowarduswithaboulderineachhand.

SIXTEEN

IGODOWNWITHTHESHIP

“You’dthinkhe’drunoutofrocks,”Imuttered.“Swimforit!”Groversaid.HeandClarisseplungedintothesurf.AnnabethhungontoClarisse’sneckandtriedtopaddlewith

onehand,thewetFleeceweighingherdown.Butthemonster’sattentionwasn’tontheFleece.“You,youngCyclops!”Polyphemusroared.“Traitortoyourkind!”Tysonfroze.“Don’tlistentohim!”Ipleaded.“Comeon.”IpulledTyson’sarm,butImightaswellhavebeenpullingamountain.Heturnedandfacedtheolder

Cyclops.“Iamnotatraitor.”“Youservemortals!”Polyphemusshouted.“Thievinghumans!”Polyphemusthrewhisfirstboulder.Tysonswatteditasidewithhisfist.“Notatraitor,”Tysonsaid.“Andyouarenotmykind.”“Deathorvictory!”Polyphemuschargedintothesurf,buthisfootwasstillwounded.He

immediatelystumbledandfellonhisface.Thatwould’vebeenfunny,excepthestartedtogetupagain,spittingsaltwaterandgrowling.

“Percy!”Clarisseyelled.“Comeon!”TheywerealmosttotheshipwiththeFleece.IfIcouldjustkeepthemonsterdistractedalittle

longer...“Go,”Tysontoldme.“IwillholdBigUgly.”“No!He’llkillyou.”I’dalreadylostTysononce.Iwasn’tgoingtolosehimagain.“We’llfighthim

together.”“Together,”Tysonagreed.Idrewmysword.Polyphemusadvancedcarefully,limpingworsethanever.Buttherewasnothingwrongwithhis

throwingarm.Hechuckedhissecondboulder.Idovetooneside,butIstillwould’vebeensquashedifTyson’sfisthadn’tblastedtherocktorubble.

Iwilledtheseatorise.Atwenty-footwavesurgedup,liftingmeonitscrest.IrodetowardtheCyclopsandkickedhimintheeye,leapingoverhisheadasthewaterblastedhimontothebeach.

“Destroyyou!”Polyphemusspluttered.“Fleecestealer!”“YoustoletheFleece!”Iyelled.“You’vebeenusingittoluresatyrstotheirdeaths!”“So?Satyrsgoodeating!”“TheFleeceshouldbeusedtoheal!Itbelongstothechildrenofthegods!”“Iamachildofthegods!”Polyphemusswipedatme,butIsidestepped.“FatherPoseidon,cursethis

thief!”Hewasblinkinghardnow,likehecouldbarelysee,andIrealizedhewastargetingbythesoundof

myvoice.“Poseidonwon’tcurseme,”Isaid,backingupastheCyclopsgrabbedair.“I’mhisson,too.He

won’tplayfavorites.”Polyphemusroared.HerippedanolivetreeoutofthesideofthecliffandsmasheditwhereI’dbeen

standingamomentbefore.“Humansnotthesame!Nasty,tricky,lying!”GroverwashelpingAnnabethaboardtheship.Clarissewaswavingfranticallyatme,tellingmeto

comeon.TysonworkedhiswayaroundPolyphemus,tryingtogetbehindhim.“Youngone!”theolderCyclopscalled.“Whereareyou?Helpme!”Tysonstopped.“Youweren’traisedright!”Polyphemuswailed,shakinghisolivetreeclub.“Poororphanedbrother!

Helpme!”Noonemoved.Nosoundbuttheoceanandmyownheartbeat.ThenTysonsteppedforward,raising

hishandsdefensively.“Don’tfight,Cyclopsbrother.Putdownthe—”Polyphemusspuntowardhisvoice.“Tyson!”Ishouted.Thetreestruckhimwithsuchforceitwould’veflattenedmeintoaPercypizzawithextraolives.

Tysonflewbackward,plowingatrenchinthesand.Polyphemuschargedafterhim,butIshouted,“No!”andlungedasfarasIcouldwithRiptide.I’dhopedtostingPolyphemusinthebackofthethigh,butImanagedtoleapalittlebithigher.

“Blaaaaah!”Polyphemusbleatedjustlikehissheep,andswungatmewithhistree.Idove,butstillgotrakedacrossthebackbyadozenjaggedbranches.Iwasbleedingandbruised

andexhausted.Theguineapiginsidemewantedtobolt.ButIswalloweddownmyfear.Polyphemusswungthetreeagain,butthistimeIwasready.Igrabbedabranchasitpassed,ignoring

thepaininmyhandsasIwasjerkedskyward,andlettheCyclopsliftmeintotheair.AtthetopofthearcIletgoandfellstraightagainstthegiant’sface—landingwithbothfeetonhisalreadydamagedeye.

Polyphemusyowledinpain.Tysontackledhim,pullinghimdown.Ilandednexttothem—swordinhand,withinstrikingdistanceofthemonster’sheart.ButIlockedeyeswithTyson,andIknewIcouldn’tdoit.Itjustwasn’tright.

“Lethimgo,”ItoldTyson.“Run.”Withonelastmightyeffort,TysonpushedthecursingolderCyclopsaway,andweranforthesurf.“Iwillsmashyou!”Polyphemusyelled,doublingoverinpain.Hisenormoushandscuppedoverhis

eye.TysonandIplungedintothewaves.“Whereareyou?”Polyphemusscreamed.Hepickeduphistreeclubandthrewitintothewater.It

splashedofftoourright.Isummonedupacurrenttocarryus,andwestartedgainingspeed.Iwasbeginningtothinkwemight

makeittotheship,whenClarisseshoutedfromthedeck,“Yeah,Jackson!Inyourface,Cyclops!”Shutup,Iwantedtoyell.“Rarrr!”Polyphemuspickedupaboulder.HethrewittowardthesoundofClarisse’svoice,butit

fellshort,narrowlymissingTysonandme.“Yeah,yeah!”Clarissetaunted.“Youthrowlikeawimp!Teachyoutotrymarryingme,youidiot!”“Clarisse!”Iyelled,unabletostandit.“Shutup!”Toolate.Polyphemusthrewanotherboulder,andthistimeIwatchedhelplesslyasitsailedovermy

headandcrashedthroughthehulloftheQueenAnne’sRevenge.Youwouldn’tbelievehowfastashipcansink.TheQueenAnne’sRevengecreakedandgroanedand

listedforwardlikeitwasgoingdownaplaygroundslide.Icursed,willingtheseatopushusfaster,buttheship’smastswerealreadygoingunder.“Dive!”ItoldTyson.Andasanotherrocksailedoverourheads,weplungedunderwater.

Myfriendsweresinkingfast,tryingtoswim,withoutluck,inthebubblytrailoftheship’swreckage.Notmanypeoplerealizethatwhenashipgoesdown,itactslikeasinkhole,pullingdowneverything

aroundit.Clarissewasastrongswimmer,butevenshewasn’tmakinganyprogress.Groverfranticallykickedwithhishooves.AnnabethwashangingontotheFleece,whichflashedinthewaterlikeawaveofnewpennies.

Iswamtowardthem,knowingthatImightnothavethestrengthtopullmyfriendsout.Worse,piecesoftimberwereswirlingaroundthem;noneofmypowerwithwaterwouldhelpifIgotwhackedontheheadbyabeam.

Weneedhelp,Ithought.Yes.Tyson’svoice,loudandclearinmyhead.Ilookedoverathim,startled.I’dheardNereidsandotherwaterspiritsspeaktomeunderwater

before,butitneveroccurredtome...TysonwasasonofPoseidon.Wecouldcommunicatewitheachother.

Rainbow,Tysonsaid.Inodded,thenclosedmyeyesandconcentrated,addingmyvoicetoTyson’s:RAINBOW!Weneed

you!Immediately,shapesshimmeredinthedarknessbelow—threehorseswithfishtails,galloping

upwardfasterthandolphins.Rainbowandhisfriendsglancedinourdirectionandseemedtoreadourthoughts.Theywhiskedintothewreckage,andamomentlaterburstupwardinacloudofbubbles—Grover,Annabeth,andClarisseeachclingingtotheneckofahippocampus.

Rainbow,thelargest,hadClarisse.HeracedovertousandallowedTysontograbholdofhismane.HisfriendwhoboreAnnabethdidthesameforme.

WebrokethesurfaceofthewaterandracedawayfromPolyphemus’sisland.Behindus,IcouldheartheCyclopsroaringintriumph,“Ididit!IfinallysankNobody!”

Ihopedheneverfoundouthewaswrong.Weskimmedacrosstheseaastheislandshranktoadotandthendisappeared.“Didit,”Annabethmutteredinexhaustion.“We...”Sheslumpedagainsttheneckofthehippocampusandinstantlyfellasleep.Ididn’tknowhowfarthehippocampicouldtakeus.Ididn’tknowwhereweweregoing.Ijust

proppedupAnnabethsoshewouldn’tfalloff,coveredherintheGoldenFleecethatwe’dbeenthroughsomuchtoget,andsaidasilentprayerofthanks.

Whichremindedme...Istillowedthegodsadebt.

“You’reagenius,”ItoldAnnabethquietly.ThenIputmyheadagainsttheFleece,andbeforeIknewit,Iwasasleep,too.

SEVENTEEN

WEGETASURPRISEONMIAMIBEACH

“Percy,wakeup.”Saltwatersplashedmyface.Annabethwasshakingmyshoulder.Inthedistance,thesunwassettingbehindacityskyline.Icouldseeabeachsidehighwaylinedwith

palmtrees,storefrontsglowingwithredandblueneon,aharborfilledwithsailboatsandcruiseships.“Miami,Ithink,”Annabethsaid.“Butthehippocampiareactingfunny.”Sureenough,ourfishyfriendshadsloweddownandwerewhinnyingandswimmingincircles,

sniffingthewater.Theydidn’tlookhappy.Oneofthemsneezed.Icouldtellwhattheywerethinking.“Thisisasfarasthey’lltakeus,”Isaid.“Toomanyhumans.Toomuchpollution.We’llhaveto

swimtoshoreonourown.”Noneofuswasverypsychedaboutthat,butwethankedRainbowandhisfriendsfortheride.Tyson

criedalittle.Heunfastenedthemakeshiftsaddlepackhe’dmade,whichcontainedhistoolkitandacoupleofotherthingshe’dsalvagedfromtheBirminghamwreck.HehuggedRainbowaroundtheneck,gavehimasoggymangohe’dpickedupontheisland,andsaidgood-bye.

Oncethehippocampi’swhitemanesdisappearedintothesea,weswamforshore.Thewavespushedusforward,andinnotimewewerebackinthemortalworld.Wewanderedalongthecruiselinedocks,pushingthroughcrowdsofpeoplearrivingforvacations.Portersbustledaroundwithcartsofluggage.TaxidriversyelledateachotherinSpanishandtriedtocutinlineforcustomers.Ifanybodynoticedus—fivekidsdrippingwetandlookinglikethey’djusthadafightwithamonster—theydidn’tleton.

Nowthatwewerebackamongmortals,Tyson’ssingleeyehadblurredfromtheMist.Groverhadputonhiscapandsneakers.EventheFleecehadtransformedfromasheepskintoared-and-goldhighschoolletterjacketwithalargeglitteryOmegaonthepocket.

AnnabethrantothenearestnewspaperboxandcheckedthedateontheMiamiHerald.Shecursed.“Juneeighteenth!We’vebeenawayfromcamptendays!”

“That’simpossible!”Clarissesaid.ButIknewitwasn’t.Timetraveleddifferentlyinmonstrousplaces.“Thalia’streemustbealmostdead,”Groverwailed.“WehavetogettheFleecebacktonight.”Clarisseslumpeddownonthepavement.“Howarewesupposedtodothat?”Hervoicetrembled.

“We’rehundredsofmilesaway.Nomoney.Noride.ThisisjustliketheOraclesaid.It’syourfault,Jackson!Ifyouhadn’tinterfered—”

“Percy’sfault?!”Annabethexploded.“Clarisse,howcanyousaythat?Youarethebiggest—”“Stopit!”Isaid.Clarisseputherheadinhands.Annabethstompedherfootinfrustration.Thethingwas:I’dalmostforgottenthisquestwassupposedtobeClarisse’s.Forascarymoment,I

sawthingsfromherpointofview.HowwouldIfeelifabunchofotherheroeshadbuttedinandmademe

lookbad?IthoughtaboutwhatI’doverheardintheboilerroomoftheCSSBirmingham—Aresyellingat

Clarisse,warningherthatshe’dbetternotfail.Arescouldn’tcarelessaboutthecamp,butifClarissemadehimlookbad...

“Clarisse,”Isaid,“whatdidtheOracletellyouexactly?”Shelookedup.Ithoughtshewasgoingtotellmeoff,butinsteadshetookadeepbreathandrecited

herprophecy:“Youshallsailtheironshipwithwarriorsofbone,Youshallfindwhatyouseekandmakeityourown,Butdespairforyourlifeentombedwithinstone,Andfailwithoutfriends,toflyhomealone.”

“Ouch,”Grovermumbled.“No,”Isaid.“No...waitaminute.I’vegotit.”Isearchedmypocketsformoney,andfoundnothingbutagoldendrachma.“Doesanybodyhaveany

cash?”AnnabethandGrovershooktheirheadsmorosely.ClarissepulledawetConfederatedollarfromher

pocketandsighed.“Cash?”Tysonaskedhesitantly.“Like...greenpaper?”Ilookedathim.“Yeah.”“Likethekindinduffelbags?”“Yeah,butwelostthosebagsdaysa-g-g—”IstutteredtoahaltasTysonrummagedinhissaddlepackandpulledouttheZiplocbagfullofcash

thatHermeshadincludedinoursupplies.“Tyson!”Isaid.“Howdidyou—”“ThoughtitwasafeedbagforRainbow,”hesaid.“Founditfloatinginsea,butonlypaperinside.

Sorry.”Hehandedmethecash.Fivesandtens,atleastthreehundreddollars.Irantothecurbandgrabbedataxithatwasjustlettingoutafamilyofcruisepassengers.“Clarisse,”

Iyelled.“Comeon.You’regoingtotheairport.Annabeth,givehertheFleece.”I’mnotsurewhichofthemlookedmorestunnedasItooktheFleeceletterjacketfromAnnabeth,

tuckedthecashintoitspocket,andputitinClarisse’sarms.Clarissesaid,“You’dletme—”“It’syourquest,”Isaid.“Weonlyhaveenoughmoneyforoneflight.Besides,Ican’ttravelbyair.

Zeuswouldblastmeintoamillionpieces.That’swhattheprophecymeant:you’dfailwithoutfriends,meaningyou’dneedourhelp,butyou’dhavetoflyhomealone.YouhavetogettheFleecebacksafely.”

Icouldseehermindworking—suspiciousatfirst,wonderingwhattrickIwasplaying,thenfinallydecidingImeantwhatIsaid.

Shejumpedinthecab.“Youcancountonme.Iwon’tfail.”“Notfailingwouldbegood.”Thecabpeeledoutinacloudofexhaust.TheFleecewasonitsway.“Percy,”Annabethsaid,“thatwasso—”“Generous?”Groveroffered.

“Insane,”Annabethcorrected.“You’rebettingthelivesofeverybodyatcampthatClarissewillgettheFleecesafelybackbytonight?”

“It’sherquest,”Isaid.“Shedeservesachance.”“Percyisnice,”Tysonsaid.“Percyistoonice,”Annabethgrumbled,butIcouldn’thelpthinkingthatmaybe,justmaybe,shewas

alittleimpressed.I’dsurprisedher,anyway.Andthatwasn’teasytodo.“Comeon,”Itoldmyfriends.“Let’sfindanotherwayhome.”That’swhenIturnedandfoundasword’spointatmythroat.“Hey,cuz,”saidLuke.“WelcomebacktotheStates.”Hisbear-manthugsappearedoneitherofsideofus.OnegrabbedAnnabethandGroverbytheirT-

shirtcollars.TheothertriedtograbTyson,butTysonknockedhimintoapileofluggageandroaredatLuke.

“Percy,”Lukesaidcalmly,“tellyourgianttobackdownorI’llhaveOreiusbashyourfriends’headstogether.”

OreiusgrinnedandraisedAnnabethandGroverofftheground,kickingandscreaming.“Whatdoyouwant,Luke?”Igrowled.Hesmiled,thescarripplingonthesideofhisface.Hegesturedtowardtheendofthedock,andInoticedwhatshould’vebeenobvious.Thebiggestboat

inportwasthePrincessAndromeda.“Why,Percy,”Lukesaid,“Iwanttoextendmyhospitality,ofcourse.”

ThebeartwinsherdedusaboardthePrincessAndromeda.Theythrewusdownontheaftdeckinfrontofaswimmingpoolwithsparklingfountainsthatsprayedintotheair.AdozenofLuke’sassortedgoons—snakepeople,Laistrygonians,demigodsinbattlearmor—hadgatheredtowatchusgetsome“hospitality.”

“Andso,theFleece,”Lukemused.“Whereisit?”Helookedusover,proddingmyshirtwiththetipofhissword,pokingGrover’sjeans.“Hey!”Groveryelled.“That’srealgoatfurunderthere!”“Sorry,oldfriend.”Lukesmiled.“JustgivemetheFleeceandI’llleaveyoutoreturntoyour,ah,

littlenaturequest.”“Blaa-ha-ha!”Groverprotested.“Someoldfriend!”“Maybeyoudidn’thearme.”Luke’svoicewasdangerouslycalm.“Where—is—the—Fleece?”“Nothere,”Isaid.Iprobablyshouldn’thavetoldhimanything,butitfeltgoodtothrowthetruthin

hisface.“Wesentitonaheadofus.Youmessedup.”Luke’seyesnarrowed.“You’relying.Youcouldn’thave...”Hisfacereddenedasahorrible

possibilityoccurredtohim.“Clarisse?”Inodded.“Youtrusted...yougave...”“Yeah.”“Agrius!”Thebeargiantflinched.“Y-yes?”“Getbelowandpreparemysteed.Bringittothedeck.IneedtoflytotheMiamiAirport,fast!”

“But,boss—”“Doit!”Lukescreamed.“OrI’llfeedyoutothedrakon!”Thebear-mangulpedandlumbereddownthestairs.Lukepacedinfrontoftheswimmingpool,

cursinginAncientGreek,grippinghisswordsotighthisknucklesturnedwhite.TherestofLuke’screwlookeduneasy.Maybethey’dneverseentheirbosssounhingedbefore.Istartedthinking...IfIcoulduseLuke’sanger,gethimtotalksoeverybodycouldhearhowcrazy

hisplanswere...Ilookedattheswimmingpool,atthefountainssprayingmistintotheair,makingarainbowinthe

sunset.AndsuddenlyIhadanidea.“You’vebeentoyingwithusallalong,”Isaid.“YouwantedustobringyoutheFleeceandsaveyou

thetroubleofgettingit.”Lukescowled.“Ofcourse,youidiot!Andyou’vemessedeverythingup!”“Traitor!”IdugmylastgolddrachmaoutofmypocketandthrewitatLuke.AsIexpected,he

dodgediteasily.Thecoinsailedintothesprayofrainbow-coloredwater.Ihopedmyprayerwouldbeacceptedinsilence.Ithoughtwithallmyheart:Ogoddess,acceptmy

offering.“Youtrickedallofus!”IyelledatLuke.“EvenDIONYSUSatCAMPHALF-BLOOD!”BehindLuke,thefountainbegantoshimmer,butIneededeveryone’sattentiononme,soIuncapped

Riptide.Lukejustsneered.“Thisisnotimeforheroics,Percy.Dropyourpunylittlesword,orI’llhaveyou

killedsoonerratherthanlater.”“WhopoisonedThalia’stree,Luke?”“Idid,ofcourse,”hesnarled.“Ialreadytoldyouthat.Iusedelderpythonvenom,straightfromthe

depthsofTartarus.”“Chironhadnothingtodowithit?”“Ha!Youknowhewouldneverdothat.Theoldfoolwouldn’thavetheguts.”“Youcallitguts?Betrayingyourfriends?Endangeringthewholecamp?”Lukeraisedhissword.“Youdon’tunderstandthehalfofit.IwasgoingtoletyoutaketheFleece...

onceIwasdonewithit.”Thatmademehesitate.WhywouldheletmetaketheFleece?Hemust’vebeenlying.ButIcouldn’t

affordtolosehisattention.“YouweregoingtohealKronos,”Isaid.“Yes!TheFleece’smagicwould’vespedhismendingprocessbytenfold.Butyouhaven’tstopped

us,Percy.You’veonlyslowedusdownalittle.”“Andsoyoupoisonedthetree,youbetrayedThalia,yousetusup—alltohelpKronosdestroythe

gods.”Lukegrittedhisteeth.“Youknowthat!Whydoyoukeepaskingme?”“BecauseIwanteverybodyintheaudiencetohearyou.”“Whataudience?”Thenhiseyesnarrowed.Helookedbehindhimandhisgoonsdidthesame.Theygaspedand

stumbledback.

Abovethepool,shimmeringintherainbowmist,wasanIris-messagevisionofDionysus,Tantalus,andthewholecampinthediningpavilion.Theysatinstunnedsilence,watchingus.

“Well,”saidDionysusdryly,“someunplanneddinnerentertainment.”“Mr.D,youheardhim,”Isaid.“YouallheardLuke.Thepoisoningofthetreewasn’tChiron’s

fault.”Mr.Dsighed.“Isupposenot.”“TheIris-messagecouldbeatrick,”Tantalussuggested,buthisattentionwasmostlyonhis

cheeseburger,whichhewastryingtocornerwithbothhands.“Ifearnot,”Mr.Dsaid,lookingwithdistasteatTantalus.“ItappearsIshallhavetoreinstateChiron

asactivitiesdirector.IsupposeIdomisstheoldhorse’spinochlegames.”Tantalusgrabbedthecheeseburger.Itdidn’tboltawayfromhim.Helifteditfromtheplateand

staredatitinamazement,asifitwerethelargestdiamondintheworld.“Igotit!”hecackled.“Wearenolongerinneedofyourservices,Tantalus,”Mr.Dannounced.Tantaluslookedstunned.“What?But—”“YoumayreturntotheUnderworld.Youaredismissed.”“No!But—Nooooooooooo!”Ashedissolvedintomist,hisfingersclutchedatthecheeseburger,tryingtobringittohismouth.But

itwastoolate.Hedisappearedandthecheeseburgerfellbackontoitsplate.Thecampersexplodedintocheering.

Lukebellowedwithrage.HeslashedhisswordthroughthefountainandtheIris-messagedissolved,butthedeedwasdone.

Iwasfeelingprettygoodaboutmyself,untilLuketurnedandgavemeamurderouslook.“Kronoswasright,Percy.You’reanunreliableweapon.Youneedtobereplaced.”Iwasn’tsurewhathemeant,butIdidn’thavetimetothinkaboutit.Oneofhismenblewabrass

whistle,andthedeckdoorsflewopen.Adozenmorewarriorspouredout,makingacirclearoundus,thebrasstipsoftheirspearsbristling.

Lukesmiledatme.“You’llneverleavethisboatalive.”

EIGHTEEN

THEPARTYPONIESINVADE

“Oneonone,”IchallengedLuke.“Whatareyouafraidof?”Lukecurledhislip.Thesoldierswhowereabouttokillushesitated,waitingforhisorder.Beforehecouldsayinganything,Agrius,thebear-man,burstontothedeckleadingaflyinghorse.It

wasthefirstpure-blackpegasusI’deverseen,withwingslikeagiantraven.Thepegasusmarebuckedandwhinnied.Icouldunderstandherthoughts.ShewascallingAgriusandLukesomenamessobadChironwould’vewashedhermuzzleoutwithsaddlesoap.

“Sir!”Agriuscalled,dodgingapegasushoof.“Yoursteedisready!”Lukekepthiseyesonme.“Itoldyoulastsummer,Percy,”hesaid.“Youcan’tbaitmeintoafight.”“Andyoukeepavoidingone,”Inoticed.“Scaredyourwarriorswillseeyougetwhipped?”Lukeglancedathismen,andhesawI’dtrappedhim.Ifhebackeddownnow,hewouldlookweak.

Ifhefoughtme,he’dlosevaluabletimechasingafterClarisse.Formypart,thebestIcouldhopeforwastodistracthim,givingmyfriendsachancetoescape.Ifanybodycouldthinkofaplantogetthemoutofthere,Annabethcould.Onthedownside,IknewhowgoodLukewasatsword-fighting.

“I’llkillyouquickly,”hedecided,andraisedhisweapon.Backbiterwasafootlongerthanmyownsword.Itsbladeglintedwithanevilgray-and-goldlightwherethehumansteelhadbeenmeldedwithcelestialbronze.Icouldalmostfeelthebladefightingagainstitself,liketwoopposingmagnetsboundtogether.Ididn’tknowhowthebladehadbeenmade,butIsensedatragedy.Someonehaddiedintheprocess.Lukewhistledtooneofhismen,whothrewhimaroundleather-and-bronzeshield.

Hegrinnedatmewickedly.“Luke,”Annabethsaid,“atleastgivehimashield.”“Sorry,Annabeth,”hesaid.“Youbringyourownequipmenttothisparty.”Theshieldwasaproblem.Fightingtwo-handedwithjustaswordgivesyoumorepower,but

fightingone-handedwithashieldgivesyoubetterdefenseandversatility.Therearemoremoves,moreoptions,morewaystokill.IthoughtbacktoChiron,who’dtoldmetostayatcampnomatterwhat,andlearntofight.NowIwasgoingtopayfornotlisteningtohim.

Lukelungedandalmostkilledmeonthefirsttry.Hisswordwentundermyarm,slashingthroughmyshirtandgrazingmyribs.

Ijumpedback,thencounterattackedwithRiptide,butLukeslammedmybladeawaywithhisshield.“My,Percy,”Lukechided.“You’reoutofpractice.”Hecameatmeagainwithaswipetothehead.Iparried,returnedwithathrust.Hesidestepped

easily.Thecutonmyribsstung.Myheartwasracing.WhenLukelungedagain,Ijumpedbackwardintothe

swimmingpoolandfeltasurgeofstrength.Ispununderwater,creatingafunnelcloud,andblastedoutofthedeepend,straightatLuke’sface.

Theforceofthewaterknockedhimdown,splutteringandblinded.ButbeforeIcouldstrike,herolledasideandwasonhisfeetagain.

Iattackedandslicedofftheedgeofhisshield,butthatdidn’tevenfazehim.Hedroppedtoacrouchandjabbedatmylegs.Suddenlymythighwasonfire,withapainsointenseIcollapsed.Myjeanswererippedabovetheknee.Iwashurt.Ididn’tknowhowbadly.LukehackeddownwardandIrolledbehindadeckchair.Itriedtostand,butmylegwouldn’ttaketheweight.

“Perrrrrcy!”Groverbleated.IrolledagainasLuke’sswordslashedthedeckchairinhalf,metalpipesandall.Iclawedtowardtheswimmingpool,tryinghardnottoblackout.I’dnevermakeit.Lukeknewit,

too.Headvancedslowly,smiling.Theedgeofhisswordwastingedwithred.“OnethingIwantyoutowatchbeforeyoudie,Percy.”Helookedatthebear-manOreius,whowas

stillholdingAnnabethandGroverbythenecks.“Youcaneatyourdinnernow,Oreius.Bonappetit.”“He-he!He-he!”Thebear-manliftedmyfriendsandbaredhisteeth.That’swhenallHadesbroke

loose.Whish!Ared-featheredarrowsproutedfromOreius’smouth.Withasurprisedlookonhishairyface,he

crumpledtothedeck.“Brother!”Agriuswailed.Heletthepegasus’sreinsgoslackjustlongenoughfortheblacksteedto

kickhimintheheadandflyawayfreeoverMiamiBay.Forasplitsecond,Luke’sguardsweretoostunnedtodoanythingexceptwatchthebeartwins’

bodiesdissolveintosmoke.Thentherewasawildchorusofwarcriesandhoovesthunderingagainstmetal.Adozencentaurs

chargedoutofthemainstairwell.“Ponies!”Tysoncriedwithdelight.MymindhadtroubleprocessingeverythingIsaw.Chironwasamongthecrowd,buthisrelatives

werealmostnothinglikehim.TherewerecentaurswithblackArabianstallionbodies,otherswithgoldpalominocoats,otherswithorange-and-whitespotslikepainthorses.SomeworebrightlycoloredT-shirtswithDay-GlolettersthatsaidPARTYPONIES:SOUTHFLORIDACHAPTER.Somewerearmedwithbows,somewithbaseballbats,somewithpaintballguns.OnehadhisfacepaintedlikeaComanchewarriorandwaswavingalargeorangeStyrofoamhandmakingabigNumber1.Anotherwasbare-chestedandpaintedentirelygreen.Athirdhadgoogly-eyeglasseswiththeeyeballsbouncingaroundonSlinkycoils,andoneofthosebaseballcapswithsoda-can-and-strawattachmentsoneitherside.

TheyexplodedontothedeckwithsuchferocityandcolorthatforamomentevenLukewasstunned.Icouldn’ttellwhethertheyhadcometocelebrateorattack.

Apparentlyboth.AsLukewasraisinghisswordtorallyhistroops,acentaurshotacustom-madearrowwithaleatherboxinggloveontheend.ItsmackedLukeinthefaceandsenthimcrashingintotheswimmingpool.

Hiswarriorsscattered.Icouldn’tblamethem.Facingthehoovesofarearingstallionisscaryenough,butwhenit’sacentaur,armedwithabowandwhoopingitupinasoda-drinkinghat,eventhebravestwarriorwouldretreat.

“Comegetsome!”yelledoneofthepartyponies.Theyletloosewiththeirpaintballguns.AwaveofblueandyellowexplodedagainstLuke’s

warriors,blindingthemandsplatteringthemfromheadtotoe.Theytriedtorun,onlytoslipandfall.

ChirongallopedtowardAnnabethandGrover,neatlypluckedthemoffthedeck,anddepositedthemonhisback.

Itriedtogetup,butmywoundedlegstillfeltlikeitwasonfire.Lukewascrawlingoutofthepool.“Attack,youfools!”heorderedhistroops.Somewheredownbelowdeck,alargealarmbell

thrummed.IknewanysecondwewouldbeswampedbyLuke’sreinforcements.Already,hiswarriorswere

gettingovertheirsurprise,comingatthecentaurswithswordsandspearsdrawn.Tysonslappedhalfadozenofthemaside,knockingthemovertheguardrailintoMiamiBay.But

morewarriorswerecomingupthestairs.“Withdraw,brethren!”Chironsaid.“Youwon’tgetawaywiththis,horseman!”Lukeshouted.Heraisedhissword,butgotsmackedin

thefacewithanotherboxingglovearrow,andsatdownhardinadeckchair.Apalominocentaurhoistedmeontohisback.“Dude,getyourbigfriend!”“Tyson!”Iyelled.“Comeon!”Tysondroppedthetwowarriorshewasabouttotieintoaknotandjoggedafterus.Hejumpedon

thecentaur’sback.“Dude!”thecentaurgroaned,almostbucklingunderTyson’sweight.“Dothewords‘low-carbdiet’

meananythingtoyou?”Luke’swarriorswereorganizingthemselvesintoaphalanx.Butbythetimetheywerereadyto

advance,thecentaurshadgallopedtotheedgeofthedeckandfearlesslyjumpedtheguardrail,asifitwereasteeplechaseandnottenstoriesabovetheground.Iwassureweweregoingtodie.Weplummetedtowardthedocks,butthecentaurshittheasphaltwithhardlyajoltandgallopedoff,whoopingandyellingtauntsatthePrincessAndromedaasweracedintothestreetsofdowntownMiami.

IhavenoideawhattheMiamiansthoughtaswegallopedby.Streetsandbuildingsbegantoblurasthecentaurspickedupspeed.Itfeltasifspacewere

compacting—asifeachcentaursteptookusmilesandmiles.Innotime,we’dleftthecitybehind.Weracedthroughmarshyfieldsofhighgrassandpondsandstuntedtrees.

Finally,wefoundourselvesinatrailerparkattheedgeofalake.Thetrailerswereallhorsetrailers,trickedoutwithtelevisionsandmini-refrigeratorsandmosquitonetting.Wewereinacentaurcamp.

“Dude!”saidapartyponyasheunloadedhisgear.“Didyouseethatbearguy?Hewasalllike:‘Whoa,Ihaveanarrowinmymouth!’”

Thecentaurwiththegoogly-eyeglasseslaughed.“Thatwasawesome!Headslam!”Thetwocentaurschargedateachotherfull-forceandknockedheads,thenwentstaggeringoffin

differentdirectionswithcrazygrinsontheirfaces.Chironsighed.HesetAnnabethandGroverdownonapicnicblanketnexttome.“Ireallywishmy

cousinswouldn’tslamtheirheadstogether.Theydon’thavethebraincellstospare.”“Chiron,”Isaid,stillstunnedbythefactthathewashere.“Yousavedus.”Hegavemeadrysmile.“Wellnow,Icouldn’tverywellletyoudie,especiallysinceyou’vecleared

myname.”

“Buthowdidyouknowwherewewere?”Annabethasked.“Advancedplanning,mydear.IfiguredyouwouldwashupnearMiamiifyoumadeitoutoftheSea

ofMonstersalive.AlmosteverythingstrangewashesupnearMiami.”“Gee,thanks,”Grovermumbled.“No,no,”Chironsaid.“Ididn’tmean...Oh,nevermind.Iamgladtoseeyou,myyoungsatyr.The

pointis,IwasabletoeavesdroponPercy’sIris-messageandtracethesignal.IrisandIhavebeenfriendsforcenturies.Iaskedhertoalertmetoanyimportantcommunicationsinthisarea.Itthentooknoefforttoconvincemycousinstoridetoyouraid.Asyousee,centaurscantravelquitefastwhenwewishto.Distanceforusisnotthesameasdistanceforhumans.”

Ilookedoveratthecampfire,wherethreepartyponieswereteachingTysontooperateapaintballgun.Ihopedtheyknewwhattheyweregettinginto.

“Sowhatnow?”IaskedChiron.“WejustletLukesailaway?He’sgotKronosaboardthatship.Orpartsofhim,anyway.”

Chironknelt,carefullyfoldinghisfrontlegsunderneathhim.Heopenedthemedicinepouchonhisbeltandstartedtotreatmywounds.“I’mafraid,Percy,thattodayhasbeensomethingofadraw.Wedidn’thavethestrengthofnumberstotakethatship.Lukewasnotorganizedenoughtopursueus.Nobodywon.”

“ButwegottheFleece!”Annabethsaid.“Clarisseisonherwaybacktocampwithitrightnow.”Chironnodded,thoughhestilllookeduneasy.“Youarealltrueheroes.AndassoonaswegetPercy

fixedup,youmustreturntoHalf-BloodHill.Thecentaursshallcarryyou.”“You’recoming,too?”Iasked.“Ohyes,Percy.I’llberelievedtogethome.MybrethrenheresimplydonotappreciateDean

Martin’smusic.Besides,ImusthavesomewordswithMr.D.There’stherestofthesummertoplan.Somuchtrainingtodo.AndIwanttosee...I’mcuriousabouttheFleece.”

Ididn’tknowexactlywhathemeant,butitmademeworriedaboutwhatLukehadsaid:IwasgoingtoletyoutaketheFleece...onceIwasdonewithit.

Hadhejustbeenlying?I’dlearnedwithKronostherewasusuallyaplanwithinaplan.Thetitanlordwasn’tcalledtheCrookedOnefornothing.Hehadwaysofgettingpeopletodowhathewantedwithoutthemeverrealizinghistrueintentions.

Overbythecampfire,Tysonletloosewithhispaintballgun.Ablueprojectilesplatteredagainstoneofthecentaurs,hurlinghimbackwardintothelake.Thecentaurcameupgrinning,coveredinswampmuckandbluepaint,andgaveTysontwothumbsup.

“Annabeth,”Chironsaid,“perhapsyouandGroverwouldgosuperviseTysonandmycousinsbeforethey,ah,teacheachothertoomanybadhabits?”

Annabethmethiseyes.Somekindofunderstandingpassedbetweenthem.“Sure,Chiron,”Annabethsaid.“Comeon,goatboy.”“ButIdon’tlikepaintball.”“Yes,youdo.”ShehoistedGrovertohishoovesandledhimofftowardthecampfire.Chironfinishedbandagingmyleg.“Percy,IhadatalkwithAnnabethonthewayhere.Atalkabout

theprophecy.”Uh-oh,Ithought.“Itwasn’therfault,”Isaid.“Imadehertellme.”

Hiseyesflickeredwithirritation.Iwassurehewasgoingtochewmeout,butthenhislookturnedtoweariness.“IsupposeIcouldnotexpecttokeepitsecretforever.”

“SoamItheoneintheprophecy?”Chirontuckedhisbandagesbackintohispouch.“IwishIknew,Percy.You’renotyetsixteen.For

nowwemustsimplytrainyouasbestwecan,andleavethefuturetotheFates.”TheFates.Ihadn’tthoughtaboutthoseoldladiesinalongtime,butassoonasChironmentioned

them,somethingclicked.“That’swhatitmeant,”Isaid.Chironfrowned.“That’swhatwhatmeant?”“Lastsummer.TheomenfromtheFates,whenIsawthemsnipsomebody’slifestring.Ithoughtit

meantIwasgoingtodierightaway,butit’sworsethanthat.It’sgotsomethingtodowithyourprophecy.Thedeaththeyforetold—it’sgoingtohappenwhenI’msixteen.”

Chiron’stailwhiskednervouslyinthegrass.“Myboy,youcan’tbesureofthat.Wedon’tevenknowiftheprophecyisaboutyou.”

“Butthereisn’tanyotherhalf-bloodchildoftheBigThree!”“Thatweknowof.”“AndKronosisrising.He’sgoingtodestroyMountOlympus!”“Hewilltry,”Chironagreed.“AndWesternCivilizationalongwithit,ifwedon’tstophim.Butwe

willstophim.Youwillnotbealoneinthatfight.”Iknewhewastryingtomakemefeelbetter,butIrememberedwhatAnnabethhadtoldme.Itwould

comedowntoonehero.OnedecisionthatwouldsaveordestroytheWest.AndIfeltsuretheFateshadbeengivingmesomekindofwarningaboutthat.Somethingterriblewasgoingtohappen,eithertomeortosomebodyIwascloseto.

“I’mjustakid,Chiron,”Isaidmiserably.“WhatgoodisonelousyheroagainstsomethinglikeKronos?”

Chironmanagedasmile.“‘Whatgoodisonelousyhero’?JoshuaLawrenceChamberlainsaidsomethinglikethattomeonce,justbeforehesingle-handedlychangedthecourseofyourCivilWar.”

Hepulledanarrowfromhisquiverandturnedtherazor-sharptipsoitglintedinthefirelight.“Celestialbronze,Percy.Animmortalweapon.Whatwouldhappenifyoushotthisatahuman?”

“Nothing,”Isaid.“Itwouldpassrightthrough.”“That’sright,”hesaid.“Humansdon’texistonthesamelevelastheimmortals.Theycan’tevenbe

hurtbyourweapons.Butyou,Percy—youarepartgod,parthuman.Youliveinbothworlds.Youcanbeharmedbyboth,andyoucanaffectboth.That’swhatmakesheroessospecial.Youcarrythehopesofhumanityintotherealmoftheeternal.Monstersneverdie.Theyarerebornfromthechaosandbarbarismthatisalwaysbubblingunderneathcivilization,theverystuffthatmakesKronosstronger.Theymustbedefeatedagainandagain,keptatbay.Heroesembodythatstruggle.Youfightthebattleshumanitymustwin,everygeneration,inordertostayhuman.Doyouunderstand?”

“I...Idon’tknow.”“Youmusttry,Percy.Becausewhetherornotyouarethechildoftheprophecy,Kronosthinksyou

mightbe.Andaftertoday,hewillfinallydespairofturningyoutohisside.Thatistheonlyreasonhehasn’tkilledyouyet,youknow.Assoonashe’ssurehecan’tuseyou,hewilldestroyyou.”

“Youtalklikeyouknowhim.”

Chironpursedhislips.“Idoknowhim.”Istaredathim.IsometimesforgotjusthowoldChironwas.“IsthatwhyMr.Dblamedyouwhenthe

treewaspoisoned?Whyyousaidsomepeopledon’ttrustyou?”“Indeed.”“But,Chiron...Imean,comeon!Whywouldtheythinkyou’deverbetraythecampforKronos?”Chiron’seyesweredeepbrown,fullofthousandsofyearsofsadness.“Percy,rememberyour

training.Rememberyourstudyofmythology.Whatismyconnectiontothetitanlord?”Itriedtothink,butI’dalwaysgottenmymythologymixedup.Evennow,whenitwassoreal,so

importanttomyownlife,Ihadtroublekeepingallthenamesandfactsstraight.Ishookmyhead.“You,uh,oweKronosafavororsomething?Hesparedyourlife?”

“Percy,”Chironsaid,hisvoiceimpossiblysoft.“ThetitanKronosismyfather.”

NINETEEN

THECHARIOTRACEENDSWITHABANG

WearrivedinLongIslandjustafterClarisse,thankstothecentaurs’travelpowers.IrodeonChiron’sback,butwedidn’ttalkmuch,especiallynotaboutKronos.IknewithadbeendifficultforChirontotellme.Ididn’twanttopushhimwithmorequestions.Imean,I’vemetplentyofembarrassingparents,butKronos,theeviltitanlordwhowantedtodestroyWesternCivilization?Notthekindofdadyouinvitedtoschoolforcareerday.

Whenwegottocamp,thecentaurswereanxioustomeetDionysus.They’dheardhethrewsomereallywildparties,buttheyweredisappointed.ThewinegodwasinnomoodtocelebrateasthewholecampgatheredatthetopofHalf-BloodHill.

Thecamphadbeenthroughahardtwoweeks.TheartsandcraftscabinhadburnedtothegroundfromanattackbyaDracoAionius(whichasnearasIcouldfigurewasLatinfor“really-big-lizard-with-breath-that-blows-stuff-up”).TheBigHouse’sroomswereoverflowingwithwounded.ThekidsintheApollocabin,whowerethebesthealers,hadbeenworkingovertimeperformingfirstaid.EverybodylookedwearyandbatteredaswecrowdedaroundThalia’stree.

ThemomentClarissedrapedtheGoldenFleeceoverthelowestbough,themoonlightseemedtobrighten,turningfromgraytoliquidsilver.Acoolbreezerustledinthebranchesandrippledthroughthegrass,allthewayintothevalley.Everythingcameintosharperfocus—theglowofthefirefliesdowninthewoods,thesmellofthestrawberryfields,thesoundofthewavesonthebeach.

Gradually,theneedlesonthepinetreestartedturningfrombrowntogreen.Everybodycheered.Itwashappeningslowly,buttherecouldbenodoubt—theFleece’smagicwas

seepingintothetree,fillingitwithnewpowerandexpellingthepoison.Chironorderedatwenty-four/sevenguarddutyonthehilltop,atleastuntilhecouldfindan

appropriatemonstertoprotecttheFleece.Hesaidhe’dplaceanadinOlympusWeeklyrightaway.Inthemeantime,Clarissewascarriedonhercabinmates’shouldersdowntotheamphitheater,

whereshewashonoredwithalaurelwreathandalotofcelebratingaroundthecampfire.NobodygaveAnnabethormeasecondlook.Itwasasifwe’dneverleft.Inaway,Iguessthatwas

thebestthank-youanyonecouldgiveus,becauseiftheyadmittedwe’dsnuckoutofcamptodothequest,they’dhavetoexpelus.Andreally,Ididn’twantanymoreattention.Itfeltgoodtobejustoneofthecampersforonce.

Laterthatnight,aswewereroastings’moresandlisteningtotheStollbrotherstellusaghoststoryaboutanevilkingwhowaseatenalivebydemonicbreakfastpastries,Clarisseshovedmefrombehindandwhisperedinmyear,“Justbecauseyouwerecoolonetime,Jackson,don’tthinkyou’reoffthehookwithAres.I’mstillwaitingfortherightopportunitytopulverizeyou.”

Igaveheragrudgingsmile.“What?”shedemanded.“Nothing,”Isaid.“Justgoodtobehome.”

Thenextmorning,afterthepartyponiesheadedbacktoFlorida,Chironmadeasurpriseannouncement:thechariotraceswouldgoaheadasscheduled.We’dallfiguredtheywerehistorynowthatTantaluswasgone,butcompletingthemdidfeelliketherightthingtodo,especiallynowthatChironwasbackandthecampwassafe.

Tysonwasn’ttookeenontheideaofgettingbackinachariotafterourfirstexperience,buthewashappytoletmeteamupwithAnnabeth.Iwoulddrive,Annabethwoulddefend,andTysonwouldactasourpitcrew.WhileIworkedwiththehorses,TysonfixedupAthena’schariotandaddedawholebunchofspecialmodifications.

Wespentthenexttwodaystraininglikecrazy.AnnabethandIagreedthatifwewon,theprizeofnochoresfortherestofthemonthwouldbesplitbetweenourtwocabins.SinceAthenahadmorecampers,theywouldgetmostofthetimeoff,whichwasfinebyme.Ididn’tcareabouttheprize.Ijustwantedtowin.

Thenightbeforetherace,Istayedlateatthestables.Iwastalkingtoourhorses,givingthemonefinalbrushing,whensomebodyrightbehindmesaid,

“Fineanimals,horses.WishI’dthoughtofthem.”Amiddle-agedguyinapostalcarrieroutfitwasleaningagainstthestabledoor.Hewasslim,with

curlyblackhairunderhiswhitepithhelmet,andhehadamailbagslungoverhisshoulder.“Hermes?”Istammered.“Hello,Percy.Didn’trecognizemewithoutmyjoggingclothes?”“Uh...”Iwasn’tsurewhetherIwassupposedtokneelorbuystampsfromhimorwhat.Thenit

occurredtomewhyhemustbehere.“Oh,listen,LordHermes,aboutLuke...”Thegodarchedhiseyebrows.“Uh,wesawhim,allright,”Isaid,“but—”“Youweren’tabletotalksenseintohim?”“Well,wekindoftriedtokilleachotherinadueltothedeath.”“Isee.Youtriedthediplomaticapproach.”“I’mreallysorry.Imean,yougaveusthoseawesomegiftsandeverything.AndIknowyouwanted

Luketocomeback.But...he’sturnedbad.Reallybad.Hesaidhefeelslikeyouabandonedhim.”IwaitedforHermestogetangry.Ifiguredhe’dturnmeintoahamsterorsomething,andIdidnot

wanttospendanymoretimeasarodent.Instead,hejustsighed.“Doyoueverfeelyourfatherabandonedyou,Percy?”Oh,man.Iwantedtosay,“Onlyafewhundredtimesaday.”Ihadn’tspokentoPoseidonsincelastsummer.

I’dneverevenbeentohisunderwaterpalace.AndthentherewasthewholethingwithTyson—nowarning,noexplanation.Justboom,youhaveabrother.You’dthinkthatdeservedalittleheads-upphonecallorsomething.

ThemoreIthoughtaboutit,theangrierIgot.IrealizedIdidwantrecognitionforthequestI’dcompleted,butnotfromtheothercampers.Iwantedmydadtosaysomething.Tonoticeme.

Hermesreadjustedthemailbagonhisshoulder.“Percy,thehardestpartaboutbeingagodisthatyoumustoftenactindirectly,especiallywhenitcomestoyourownchildren.Ifweweretointerveneeverytimeourchildrenhadaproblem...well,thatwouldonlycreatemoreproblemsandmoreresentment.ButIbelieveifyougiveitsomethought,youwillseethatPoseidonhasbeenpayingattentiontoyou.He

hasansweredyourprayers.Icanonlyhopethatsomeday,Lukemayrealizethesameaboutme.Whetheryoufeellikeyousucceededornot,youremindedLukewhohewas.Youspoketohim.”

“Itriedtokillhim.”Hermesshrugged.“Familiesaremessy.Immortalfamiliesareeternallymessy.Sometimesthebest

wecandoistoremindeachotherthatwe’rerelated,forbetterorworse...andtrytokeepthemaimingandkillingtoaminimum.”

Itdidn’tsoundlikemuchofarecipefortheperfectfamily.Thenagain,asIthoughtaboutmyquest,IrealizedmaybeHermeswasright.Poseidonhadsentthehippocampitohelpus.He’dgivenmepowersovertheseathatI’dneverknownaboutbefore.AndtherewasTyson.HadPoseidonbroughtustogetheronpurpose?HowmanytimeshadTysonsavedmylifethissummer?

Inthedistance,theconchhornsounded,signalingcurfew.“Youshouldgettobed,”Hermessaid.“I’vehelpedyougetintoquiteenoughtroublethissummer

already.Ireallyonlycametomakethisdelivery.”“Adelivery?”“Iamthemessengerofthegods,Percy.”Hetookanelectronicsignaturepadfromhismailbagand

handedittome.“Signthere,please.”Ipickedupthestylusbeforerealizingitwasentwinedwithapairoftinygreensnakes.“Ah!”I

droppedthepad.Ouch,saidGeorge.Really,Percy,Marthascolded.Wouldyouwanttobedroppedonthefloorofahorsestable?“Oh,uh,sorry.”Ididn’tmuchliketouchingsnakes,butIpickedupthepadandthestylusagain.

MarthaandGeorgewriggledundermyfingers,formingakindofpencilgripliketheonesmyspecialedteachermademeuseinsecondgrade.

Didyoubringmearat?Georgeasked.“No...”Isaid.“Uh,wedidn’tfindany.”Whataboutaguineapig?George!Marthachided.Don’tteasetheboy.IsignedmynameandgavethepadbacktoHermes.Inexchange,hehandedmeasea-blueenvelope.Myfingerstrembled.EvenbeforeIopenedit,Icouldtellitwasfrommyfather.Icouldsensehis

powerinthecoolbluepaper,asiftheenvelopeitselfhadbeenfoldedoutofanoceanwave.“Goodlucktomorrow,”Hermessaid.“Fineteamofhorsesyouhavethere,thoughyou’llexcuseme

ifIrootfortheHermescabin.”Anddon’tbetoodiscouragedwhenyoureadit,dear,Marthatoldme.Hedoeshaveyourinterests

atheart.“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked.Don’tmindher,Georgesaid.Andnexttime,remember,snakesworkfortips.“Enough,youtwo,”Hermessaid.“Good-bye,Percy.Fornow.”Smallwhitewingssproutedfromhispithhelmet.Hebegantoglow,andIknewenoughaboutthe

godstoavertmyeyesbeforeherevealedhistruedivineform.Withabrilliantwhiteflashhewasgone,andIwasalonewiththehorses.

Istaredattheblueenvelopeinmyhands.ItwasaddressedinstrongbuteleganthandwritingthatI’dseenoncebefore,onapackagePoseidonhadsentmelastsummer.

PercyJacksonc/oCampHalf-BloodFarmRoad3.141

LongIsland,NewYork11954

Anactualletterfrommyfather.MaybehewouldtellmeI’ddoneagoodjobgettingtheFleece.He’dexplainaboutTyson,orapologizefornottalkingtomesooner.ThereweresomanythingsthatIwantedthatlettertosay.

Iopenedtheenvelopeandunfoldedthepaper.Twosimplewordswereprintedinthemiddleofthepage:

BraceYourself

Thenextmorning,everybodywasbuzzingaboutthechariotrace,thoughtheykeptglancingnervouslytowardtheskyliketheyexpectedtoseeStymphalianbirdsgathering.Nonedid.Itwasabeautifulsummerdaywithblueskyandplentyofsunshine.Thecamphadstartedtolookthewayitshouldlook:themeadowsweregreenandlush;thewhitecolumnsgleamedontheGreekbuildings;dryadsplayedhappilyinthewoods.

AndIwasmiserable.I’dbeenlyingawakeallnight,thinkingaboutPoseidon’swarning.Braceyourself.Imean,hegoestothetroubleofwritingaletter,andhewritestwowords?Marthathesnakehadtoldmenottofeeldisappointed.MaybePoseidonhadareasonforbeingso

vague.Maybehedidn’tknowexactlywhathewaswarningmeabout,buthesensedsomethingbigwasabouttohappen—somethingthatcouldcompletelyknockmeoffmyfeetunlessIwasprepared.Itwashard,butItriedtoturnmythoughtstotherace.

AsAnnabethandIdroveontothetrack,Icouldn’thelpadmiringtheworkTysonhaddoneontheAthenachariot.Thecarriagegleamedwithbronzereinforcements.Thewheelswererealignedwithmagicalsuspensionsoweglidedalongwithhardlyabump.Theriggingforthehorseswassoperfectlybalancedthattheteamturnedattheslightesttugofthereins.

Tysonhadalsomadeustwojavelins,eachwiththreebuttonsontheshaft.Thefirstbuttonprimedthejavelintoexplodeonimpact,releasingrazorwirethatwouldtangleandshredanopponent’swheels.Thesecondbuttonproducedablunt(butstillverypainful)bronzespearheaddesignedtoknockadriveroutofhiscarriage.Thethirdbuttonbroughtupagrapplinghookthatcouldbeusedtolockontoanenemy’schariotorpushitaway.

Ifiguredwewereinprettygoodshapefortherace,butTysonstillwarnedmetobecareful.Theotherchariotteamshadplentyoftricksuptheirtogas.

“Here,”hesaid,justbeforetheracebegan.Hehandedmeawristwatch.Therewasn’tanythingspecialaboutit—justawhite-and-silverclock

face,ablackleatherstrap—butassoonasIsawitIrealizedthatthisiswhatI’dseenhimtinkeringonallsummer.

Ididn’tusuallyliketowearwatches.Whocaredwhattimeitwas?ButIcouldn’tsaynotoTyson.

“Thanks,man.”Iputitonandfounditwassurprisinglylightandcomfortable.IcouldhardlytellIwaswearingit.

“Didn’tfinishintimeforthetrip,”Tysonmumbled.“Sorry,sorry.”“Hey,man.Nobigdeal.”“Ifyouneedprotectioninrace,”headvised,“hitthebutton.”“Ah,okay.”Ididn’tseehowkeepingtimewasgoingtohelpawholelot,butIwastouchedthat

Tysonwasconcerned.IpromisedhimI’drememberthewatch.“And,hey,um,Tyson...”Helookedatme.“Iwantedtosay,well...”Itriedtofigureouthowtoapologizeforgettingembarrassedabouthim

beforethequest,fortellingeveryonehewasn’tmyrealbrother.Itwasn’teasytofindthewords.“Iknowwhatyouwilltellme,”Tysonsaid,lookingashamed.“Poseidondidcareformeafterall.”“Uh,well—”“Hesentyoutohelpme.JustwhatIaskedfor.”Iblinked.“YouaskedPoseidonfor...me?”“Forafriend,”Tysonsaid,twistinghisshirtinhishands.“YoungCyclopesgrowupaloneonthe

streets,learntomakethingsoutofscraps.Learntosurvive.”“Butthat’ssocruel!”Heshookhisheadearnestly.“Makesusappreciateblessings,notbegreedyandmeanandfatlike

Polyphemus.ButIgotscared.Monsterschasedmesomuch,clawedmesometimes—”“Thescarsonyourback?”Atearwelledinhiseye.“SphinxonSeventy-secondStreet.Bigbully.IprayedtoDaddyforhelp.

SoonthepeopleatMeriwetherfoundme.Metyou.Biggestblessingever.SorryIsaidPoseidonwasmean.Hesentmeabrother.”IstaredatthewatchthatTysonhadmademe.“Percy!”Annabethcalled.“Comeon!”Chironwasatthestartingline,readytoblowtheconch.“Tyson...”Isaid.“Go,”Tysonsaid.“Youwillwin!”“I—yeah,okay,bigguy.We’llwinthisoneforyou.”Iclimbedonboardthechariotandgotinto

positionjustasChironblewthestartingsignal.Thehorsesknewwhattodo.WeshotdownthetracksofastIwould’vefallenoutifmyarmshadn’t

beenwrappedintheleatherreins.Annabethheldontighttotherail.Thewheelsglidedbeautifully.Wetookthefirstturnafullchariot-lengthaheadofClarisse,whowasbusytryingtofightoffajavelinattackfromtheStollbrothersintheHermeschariot.

“We’vegot’em!”Iyelled,butIspoketoosoon.“Incoming!”Annabethyelled.Shethrewherfirstjaveliningrapplinghookmode,knockingawaya

lead-weightednetthatwouldhaveentangledusboth.Apollo’schariothadcomeuponourflank.BeforeAnnabethcouldrearmherself,theApollowarriorthrewajavelinintoourrightwheel.Thejavelinshattered,butnotbeforesnappingsomeofourspokes.Ourchariotlurchedandwobbled.Iwassurethewheelwouldcollapsealtogether,butwesomehowkeptgoing.

Iurgedthehorsestokeepupthespeed.WewerenowneckandneckwithApollo.Hephaestuswascomingupclosebehind.AresandHermeswerefallingbehind,ridingsidebysideasClarissewentsword-on-javelinwithConnorStoll.

Ifwetookonemorehittoourwheel,Iknewwewouldcapsize.“You’remine!”thedriverfromApolloyelled.Hewasafirst-yearcamper.Ididn’trememberhis

name,buthesurewasconfident.“Yeah,right!”Annabethyelledback.Shepickeduphersecondjavelin—arealriskconsideringwestillhadonefulllaptogo—andthrew

itattheApollodriver.Heraimwasperfect.Thejavelingrewaheavyspearpointjustasitcaughtthedriverinthechest,

knockinghimagainsthisteammateandsendingthembothtopplingoutoftheirchariotinabackwardsomersault.Thehorsesfeltthereinsgoslackandwentcrazy,ridingstraightforthecrowd.Campersscrambledforcoverasthehorsesleapedthecornerofthebleachersandthegoldenchariotflippedover.Thehorsesgallopedbacktowardtheirstable,draggingtheupside-downchariotbehindthem.

Iheldourownchariottogetherthroughthesecondturn,despitethegroaningoftherightwheel.Wepassedthestartinglineandthunderedintoourfinallap.

Theaxlecreakedandmoaned.Thewobblingwheelwasmakinguslosespeed,eventhoughthehorseswererespondingtomyeverycommand,runninglikeawell-oiledmachine.

TheHephaestusteamwasstillgaining.Beckendorfgrinnedashepressedabuttononhiscommandconsole.Steelcablesshotoutofthefront

ofhismechanicalhorses,wrappingaroundourbackrail.OurchariotshudderedasBeckendorf’swinchsystemstartedworking—pullingusbackwardwhileBeckendorfpulledhimselfforward.

Annabethcursedanddrewherknife.Shehackedatthecablesbuttheyweretoothick.“Can’tcutthem!”sheyelled.TheHephaestuschariotwasnowdangerouslyclose,theirhorsesabouttotrampleusunderfoot.“Switchwithme!”ItoldAnnabeth.“Takethereins!”“But—”“Trustme!”Shepulledherselftothefrontandgrabbedthereins.Iturned,tryinghardtokeepmyfooting,and

uncappedRiptide.Islasheddownandthecablessnappedlikekitestring.Welurchedforward,butBeckendorf’sdriver

justswunghischariottoourleftandpulledupnexttous.Beckendorfdrewhissword.HeslashedatAnnabeth,andIparriedthebladeaway.

Wewerecominguponthelastturn.We’dnevermakeit.IneededtodisabletheHephaestuschariotandgetitoutoftheway,butIhadtoprotectAnnabeth,too.JustbecauseBeckendorfwasaniceguydidn’tmeanhewouldn’tsendusbothtotheinfirmaryifweletourguarddown.

Wewereneckandnecknow,Clarissecomingupfrombehind,makingupforlosttime.“Seeya,Percy!”Beckendorfyelled.“Here’salittlepartinggift!”Hethrewaleatherpouchintoourchariot.Itstucktothefloorimmediatelyandbeganbillowing

greensmoke.“Greekfire!”Annabethyelled.Icursed.I’dheardstoriesaboutwhatGreekfirecoulddo.Ifiguredwehadmaybetenseconds

beforeitexploded.“Getridofit!”Annabethshouted,butIcouldn’t.Hephaestus’schariotwasstillalongside,waiting

untilthelastsecondtomakesuretheirlittlepresentblewup.Beckendorfwaskeepingmebusywithhissword.IfIletmyguarddownlongenoughtodealwiththeGreekfire,Annabethwouldgetslicedandwe’dcrashanyway.Itriedtokicktheleatherpouchawaywithmyfoot,butIcouldn’t.Itwasstuckfast.

ThenIrememberedthewatch.Ididn’tknowhowitcouldhelp,butImanagedtopunchthestopwatchbutton.Instantly,thewatch

changed.Itexpanded,themetalrimspiralingoutwardlikeanold-fashionedcamerashutter,aleatherstrapwrappingaroundmyforearmuntilIwasholdingaroundwarshieldfourfeetwide,theinsidesoftleather,theoutsidepolishedbronzeengravedwithdesignsIdidn’thavetimetoexamine.

AllIknew:Tysonhadcomethrough.Iraisedtheshield,andBeckendorf’sswordclangedagainstit.Hisbladeshattered.

“What?”heshouted.“How—”Hedidn’thavetimetosaymorebecauseIknockedhiminthechestwithmynewshieldandsenthim

flyingoutofhischariot,tumblinginthedirt.IwasaboutuseRiptidetoslashatthedriverwhenAnnabethyelled,“Percy!”TheGreekfirewasshootingsparks.Ishovedthetipofmyswordundertheleatherpouchand

flippedituplikeaspatula.ThefirebombdislodgedandflewintotheHephaestuschariotatthedriver’sfeet.Heyelped.

Inasplitsecondthedrivermadetherightchoice:hedoveoutofthechariot,whichcareenedawayandexplodedingreenflames.Themetalhorsesseemedtoshort-circuit.TheyturnedanddraggedtheburningwreckagebacktowardClarisseandtheStollbrothers,whohadtoswervetoavoidit.

Annabethpulledthereinsforthelastturn.Iheldon,surewewouldcapsize,butsomehowshebroughtusthroughandspurredthehorsesacrossthefinishline.Thecrowdroared.

Oncethechariotstopped,ourfriendsmobbedus.Theystartedchantingournames,butAnnabethyelledoverthenoise:“Holdup!Listen!Itwasn’tjustus!”

Thecrowddidn’twanttobequiet,butAnnabethmadeherselfheard:“Wecouldn’thavedoneitwithoutsomebodyelse!Wecouldn’thavewonthisraceorgottentheFleeceorsavedGroveroranything!WeoweourlivestoTyson,Percy’s...”

“Brother!”Isaid,loudenoughforeverybodytohear.“Tyson,mybabybrother.”Tysonblushed.Thecrowdcheered.Annabethplantedakissonmycheek.Theroaringgotalot

louderafterthat.TheentireAthenacabinliftedmeandAnnabethandTysonontotheirshouldersandcarriedustowardthewinner’splatform,whereChironwaswaitingtobestowthelaurelwreaths.

TWENTY

THEFLEECEWORKSITSMAGICTOOWELL

ThatafternoonwasoneofthehappiestI’deverspentatcamp,whichmaybegoestoshow,youneverknowwhenyourworldisabouttoberockedtopieces.

Groverannouncedthathe’dbeabletospendtherestofthesummerwithusbeforeresuminghisquestforPan.HisbossesattheCouncilofClovenEldersweresoimpressedthathehadn’tgottenhimselfkilledandhadclearedthewayforfuturesearchers,thattheygrantedhimatwo-monthfurloughandanewsetofreedpipes.Theonlybadnews:Groverinsistedonplayingthosepipesallafternoonlong,andhismusicalskillshadn’timprovedmuch.Heplayed“YMCA,”andthestrawberryplantsstartedgoingcrazy,wrappingaroundourfeetliketheyweretryingtostrangleus.IguessIcouldn’tblamethem.

Grovertoldmehecoulddissolvetheempathylinkbetweenus,nowthatwewerefacetoface,butItoldhimI’djustassumekeepitifthatwasokaywithhim.Heputdownhisreedspipesandstaredatme.“But,ifIgetintroubleagain,you’llbeindanger,Percy!Youcoulddie!”

“Ifyougetintroubleagain,Iwanttoknowaboutit.AndI’llcomehelpyouagain,G-man.Iwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.”

Intheendheagreednottobreakthelink.Hewentbacktoplaying“YMCA”forthestrawberryplants.Ididn’tneedanempathylinkwiththeplantstoknowhowtheyfeltaboutit.

Lateronduringarcheryclass,Chironpulledmeasideandtoldmehe’dfixedmyproblemswithMeriwetherPrep.Theschoolnolongerblamedmefordestroyingtheirgymnasium.Thepolicewerenolongerlookingforme.

“Howdidyoumanagethat?”Iasked.Chiron’seyestwinkled.“Imerelysuggestedthatthemortalshadseensomethingdifferentonthatday

—afurnaceexplosionthatwasnotyourfault.”“Youjustsaidthatandtheyboughtit?”“ImanipulatedtheMist.Someday,whenyou’reready,I’llshowhowit’sdone.”“Youmean,IcangobacktoMeriwethernextyear?”Chironraisedhiseyebrows.“Oh,no,they’vestillexpelledyou.Yourheadmaster,Mr.Bonsai,said

youhad—howdidheputit?—un-groovykarmathatdisruptedtheschool’seducationalaura.Butyou’renotinanylegaltrouble,whichwasarelieftoyourmother.Oh,andspeakingofyourmother...”

Heunclippedhiscellphonefromhisquiverandhandedittome.“It’shightimeyoucalledher.”Theworstpartwasthebeginning—the“Percy-Jacksonwhat-were-you-thinking-do-you-have-any-

idea-howworried-I-was-sneaking-off-to-camp-without-permissiongoing-on-dangerous-quests-and-scaring-me-half-to-death”part.

Butfinallyshepausedtocatchherbreath.“Oh,I’mjustgladyou’resafe!”That’sthegreatthingaboutmymom.She’snogoodatstayingangry.Shetries,butitjustisn’tinher

nature.

“I’msorry,Mom,”Itoldher.“Iwon’tscareyouagain.”“Don’tpromisemethat,Percy.Youknowverywellitwillonlygetworse.”Shetriedtosound

casualaboutit,butIcouldtellshewasprettyshakenup.Iwantedtosaysomethingtomakeherfeelbetter,butIknewshewasright.Beingahalf-blood,I

wouldalwaysbedoingthingsthatscaredher.AndasIgotolder,thedangerswouldjustgetgreater.“Icouldcomehomeforawhile,”Ioffered.“No,no.Stayatcamp.Train.Dowhatyouneedtodo.Butyouwillcomehomeforthenextschool

year?”“Yeah,ofcourse.Uh,ifthere’sanyschoolthatwilltakeme.”“Oh,we’llfindsomething,dear,”mymothersighed.“Someplacewheretheydon’tknowusyet.”

AsforTyson,thecamperstreatedhimlikeahero.Iwould’vebeenhappytohavehimasmycabinmateforever,butthatevening,asweweresittingonasandduneoverlookingtheLongIslandSound,hemadeanannouncementthatcompletelytookmebysurprise.

“DreamcamefromDaddylastnight,”hesaid.“Hewantsmetovisit.”Iwonderedifhewaskidding,butTysonreallydidn’tknowhowtokid.“Poseidonsentyouadream

message?”Tysonnodded.“Wantsmetogounderwaterfortherestofthesummer.LearntoworkatCyclopes’

forges.Hecalleditaninter—anintern—”“Aninternship?”“Yes.”Iletthatsinkin.I’lladmit,Ifeltalittlejealous.Poseidonhadneverinvitedmeunderwater.Butthen

Ithought,Tysonwasgoing?Justlikethat?“Whenwouldyouleave?”Iasked.“Now.”“Now.Like...nownow?”“Now.”IstaredoutatthewavesintheLongIslandSound.Thewaterwasglisteningredinthesunset.“I’mhappyforyou,bigguy,”Imanaged.“Seriously.”“Hardtoleavemynewbrother,”hesaidwithatrembleinhisvoice.“ButIwanttomakethings.

Weaponsforthecamp.Youwillneedthem.”Unfortunately,Iknewhewasright.TheFleecehadn’tsolvedallthecamp’sproblems.Lukewasstill

outthere,gatheringanarmyaboardthePrincessAndromeda.Kronoswasstillre-forminginhisgoldencoffin.Eventually,wewouldhavetofightthem.

“You’llmakethebestweaponsever,”ItoldTyson.Iheldupmywatchproudly.“Ibetthey’lltellgoodtime,too.”

Tysonsniffled.“Brothershelpeachother.”“You’remybrother,”Isaid.“Nodoubtaboutit.”Hepattedmeonthebacksohardhealmostknockedmedownthesanddune.Thenhewipedatear

fromhischeekandstoodtogo.“Usetheshieldwell.”“Iwill,bigguy.”

“Saveyourlifesomeday.”Thewayhesaidit,somatter-of-fact,IwonderedifthatCyclopseyeofhiscouldseeintothefuture.

Heheadeddowntothebeachandwhistled.Rainbow,thehippocampus,burstoutofthewaves.IwatchedthetwoofthemrideofftogetherintotherealmofPoseidon.

Oncetheyweregone,Ilookeddownatmynewwristwatch.Ipressedthebuttonandtheshieldspiraledouttofullsize.HammeredintothebronzewerepicturesinAncientGreekstyle,scenesfromouradventuresthissummer.TherewasAnnabethslayingaLaistrygoniandodgeballplayer,mefightingthebronzebullsonHalf-BloodHill,TysonridingRainbowtowardthePrincessAndromeda,theCSSBirminghamblastingitscannonsatCharybdis.IranmyhandacrossapictureofTyson,battlingtheHydraasheheldaloftaboxofMonsterDonuts.

Icouldn’thelpfeelingsad.IknewTysonwouldhaveanawesometimeundertheocean.ButI’dmisseverythingabouthim—hisfascinationwithhorses,thewayhecouldfixchariotsorcrumplemetalwithhisbarehands,ortiebadguysintoknots.I’devenmisshimsnoringlikeanearthquakeinthenextbunkallnight.

“Hey,Percy.”Iturned.AnnabethandGroverwerestandingatthetopofthesanddune.IguessmaybeIhadsomesandinmy

eyes,becauseIwasblinkingalot.“Tyson...”Itoldthem.“Hehadto...”“Weknow,”Annabethsaidsoftly.“Chirontoldus.”“Cyclopesforges.”Grovershuddered.“Ihearthecafeteriafoodthereisterrible!Like,no

enchiladasatall.”Annabethheldoutherhand.“Comeon,SeaweedBrain.Timefordinner.”Wewalkedbacktowardthediningpaviliontogether,justthethreeofus,likeoldtimes.Astormragedthatnight,butitpartedaroundCampHalf-Bloodasstormsusuallydid.Lightning

flashedagainstthehorizon,wavespoundedtheshore,butnotadropfellinourvalley.Wewereprotectedagain,thankstotheFleece,sealedinsideourmagicalborders.

Still,mydreamswererestless.IheardKronostauntingmefromthedepthsofTartarus:Polyphemussitsblindlyinhiscave,younghero,believinghehaswonagreatvictory.Areyouanylessdeluded?Thetitan’scoldlaughterfilledthedarkness.

Thenmydreamchanged.IwasfollowingTysontothebottomofthesea,intothecourtofPoseidon.Itwasaradianthallfilledwithbluelight,thefloorcobbledwithpearls.Andthere,onathroneofcoral,satmyfather,dressedlikeasimplefishermaninkhakishortsandasun-bleachedT-shirt.Ilookedupintohistanweatheredface,hisdeepgreeneyes,andhespoketwowords:Braceyourself.

Iwokewithastart.Therewasabangingonthedoor.Groverflewinsidewithoutwaitingforpermission.“Percy!”he

stammered.“Annabeth...onthehill...she...”Thelookinhiseyestoldmesomethingwasterriblywrong.Annabethhadbeenonguarddutythat

night,protectingtheFleece.Ifsomethinghadhappened—Irippedoffthecovers,mybloodlikeicewaterinmyveins.IthrewonsomeclotheswhileGrover

triedtomakeacompletesentence,buthewastoostunned,toooutofbreath.“She’slyingthere...justlyingthere...”

Iranoutsideandracedacrossthecentralyard,Groverrightbehindme.Dawnwasjustbreaking,but

thewholecampseemedtobestirring.Wordwasspreading.Somethinghugehadhappened.Afewcamperswerealreadymakingtheirwaytowardthehill,satyrsandnymphsandheroesinaweirdmixofarmorandpajamas.

Iheardtheclopofhorsehooves,andChirongallopedupbehindus,lookinggrim.“Isittrue?”heaskedGrover.Grovercouldonlynod,hisexpressiondazed.Itriedtoaskwhatwasgoingon,butChirongrabbedmebythearmandeffortlesslyliftedmeonto

hisback.TogetherwethunderedupHalf-BloodHill,whereasmallcrowdhadstartedtogather.IexpectedtoseetheFleecemissingfromthepinetree,butitwasstillthere,glitteringinthefirst

lightofdawn.Thestormhadbrokenandtheskywasbloodred.“Cursethetitanlord,”Chironsaid.“He’strickedusagain,givenhimselfanotherchancetocontrol

theprophecy.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked.“TheFleece,”hesaid.“TheFleecediditsworktoowell.”Wegallopedforward,everyonemovingoutofourway.Thereatthebaseofthetree,agirlwaslying

unconscious.AnothergirlinGreekarmorwaskneelingnexttoher.Bloodroaredinmyears.Icouldn’tthinkstraight.Annabethhadbeenattacked?Butwhywasthe

Fleecestillthere?Thetreeitselflookedperfectlyfine,wholeandhealthy,suffusedwiththeessenceoftheGolden

Fleece.“Ithealedthetree,”Chironsaid,hisvoiceragged.“Andpoisonwasnottheonlythingitpurged.”ThenIrealizedAnnabethwasn’ttheonelyingontheground.Shewastheoneinarmor,kneelingnext

totheunconsciousgirl.WhenAnnabethsawus,sherantoChiron.“It...she...justsuddenlythere...”Hereyeswerestreamingwithtears,butIstilldidn’tunderstand.Iwastoofreakedouttomakesense

ofitall.IleapedoffChiron’sbackandrantowardtheunconsciousgirl.Chironsaid:“Percy,wait!”Ikneltbyherside.Shehadshortblackhairandfrecklesacrosshernose.Shewasbuiltlikealong-

distancerunner,litheandstrong,andsheworeclothesthatweresomewherebetweenpunkandGoth—ablackT-shirt,blacktatteredjeans,andaleatherjacketwithbuttonsfromabunchofbandsI’dneverheardof.

Shewasn’tacamper.Ididn’trecognizeherfromanyofthecabins.AndyetIhadthestrangestfeelingI’dseenherbefore....

“It’strue,”Groversaid,pantingfromhisrunupthehill.“Ican’tbelieve...”Nobodyelsecameclosetothegirl.Iputmyhandonherforehead.Herskinwascold,butmyfingertipstingledasiftheywereburning.“Sheneedsnectarandambrosia,”Isaid.Shewasclearlyahalf-blood,whethershewasacamperor

not.Icouldsensethatjustfromonetouch.Ididn’tunderstandwhyeveryonewasactingsoscared.Itookherbytheshouldersandliftedherintosittingposition,restingherheadonmyshoulder.“Comeon!”Iyelledtotheothers.“What’swrongwithyoupeople?Let’sgethertotheBigHouse.”Noonemoved,notevenChiron.Theywerealltoostunned.Thenthegirltookashakybreath.Shecoughedandopenedhereyes.Heririseswerestartlinglyblue—electricblue.

Thegirlstaredatmeinbewilderment,shiveringandwild-eyed.“Who—”“I’mPercy,”Isaid.“You’resafenow.”“Strangestdream...”“It’sokay.”“Dying.”“No,”Iassuredher.“You’reokay.What’syourname?”That’swhenIknew.Evenbeforeshesaidit.Thegirl’sblueeyesstaredintomine,andIunderstoodwhattheGoldenFleecequesthadbeenabout.

Thepoisoningofthetree.Everything.Kronoshaddoneittobringanotherchesspieceintoplay—anotherchancetocontroltheprophecy.

EvenChiron,Annabeth,andGrover,whoshould’vebeencelebratingthismoment,weretooshocked,thinkingaboutwhatitmightmeanforthefuture.AndIwasholdingsomeonewhowasdestinedtobemybestfriend,orpossiblymyworstenemy.

“IamThalia,”thegirlsaid.“DaughterofZeus.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Manythankstomyyoungbetatesters,GeoffreyColeandTravisStoll,forreadingthemanuscriptandmakinggoodsuggestions;EgbertBakkerofYaleUniversityforhishelpwithAncientGreek;NancyGalltforherablerepresentation;myeditor,JenniferBesser,forherguidanceandperseverance;thestudentsatthemanyschoolsI’vevisitedfortheirenthusiasticsupport;andofcourseBecky,Haley,andPatrickRiordan,whomakemytripstoCampHalf-Bloodpossible.

Don'tmisstheexcitingnewseriesTheKaneChronicles,byRickRiordan

Weonlyhaveafewhours,solistencarefully.Ifyou’rehearingthisstory,you’realreadyindanger.SadieandImightbeyouronlychance.Gototheschool.Findthelocker.Iwon’ttellyouwhichschoolorwhichlocker,becauseifyou’re

therightperson,you’llfindit.Thecombinationis13/32/33.Bythetimeyoufinishlistening,you’llknowwhatthosenumbersmean.Justrememberthestorywe’reabouttotellyouisn’tcompleteyet.Howitendswilldependonyou.

Themostimportantthing:whenyouopenthepackageandfindwhat’sinside,don’tkeepitlongerthanaweek.Sure,it’llbetempting.Imean,itwillgrantyoualmostunlimitedpower.Butifyoupossessittoolong,itwillconsumeyou.Learnitssecretsquicklyandpassiton.Hideitforthenextperson,thewaySadieandIdidforyou.Thenbepreparedforyourlifetogetveryinteresting.

Okay,Sadieistellingmetostopstallingandgetonwiththestory.Fine.IguessitstartedinLondon,thenightourdadblewuptheBritishMuseum.

MynameisCarterKane.I’mfourteenandmyhomeisasuitcase.

YouthinkI’mkidding?SinceIwaseightyearsold,mydadandIhavetraveledtheworld.IwasborninL.A.butmydad’sanarchaeologist,sohisworktakeshimallover.MostlywegotoEgypt,sincethat’shisspecialty.Gointoabookstore,findabookaboutEgypt,there’saprettygoodchanceitwaswrittenbyDr.JuliusKane.YouwanttoknowhowEgyptianspulledthebrainsoutofmummies,orbuiltthe

pyramids,orcursedKingTut’stomb?Mydadisyourman.Ofcourse,thereareotherreasonsmydadmovedaroundsomuch,butIdidn’tknowhissecretbackthen.

Ididn’tgotoschool.Mydadhomeschooledme,ifyoucancallit“home”schoolingwhenyoudon’thaveahome.Hesortoftaughtmewhateverhethoughtwasimportant,soIlearnedalotaboutEgyptandbasketballstatsandmydad’sfavoritemusicians.Ireadalot,too—prettymuchanythingIcouldgetmyhandson,fromdad’shistorybookstofantasynovels—becauseIspentalotoftimesittingaroundinhotelsandairportsanddigsitesinforeigncountrieswhereIdidn’tknowanybody.Mydadwasalwaystellingmetoputthebookdownandplaysomeball.Youevertrytostartagameofpick-upbasketballinAswan,Egypt?It’snoteasy.

Anyway,mydadtrainedmeearlytokeepallmypossessionsinasinglesuitcasethatfitsinanairplane’soverheadcompartment.Mydadpackedthesameway,excepthewasallowedanextraworkbagforhisarchaeologytools.Rulenumberone:Iwasnotallowedtolookinhisworkbag.That’saruleIneverbrokeuntilthedayoftheexplosion.

IthappenedonChristmasEve.WewereinLondonforvisitationdaywithmysister,Sadie.

See,Dad’sonlyallowedtwodaysayearwithher—oneinthewinter,oneinthesummer—becauseourgrandparentshatehim.Afterourmomdied,herparents(ourgrandparents)hadthisbigcourtbattlewithDad.Aftersixlawyers,twofistfights,andanearfatalattackwithaspatula(don’task),theywontherighttokeepSadiewiththeminEngland.Shewasonlysix,twoyearsyoungerthanme,andtheycouldn’tkeepusboth—atleastthatwastheirexcusefornottakingme.SoSadiewasraisedasaBritishschoolkid,andItraveledaroundwithmydad.WeonlysawSadietwiceayear,whichwasfinewithme.

[Shutup,Sadie.Yes—I’mgettingtothatpart.]Soanyway,mydadandIhadjustflownintoHeathrowafteracoupleofdelays.Itwasadrizzly,cold

afternoon.Thewholetaxirideintothecity,mydadseemedkindofnervous.Now,mydadisabigguy.Youwouldn’tthinkanythingcouldmakehimnervous.Hehasdarkbrown

skinlikemine,piercingbrowneyes,abaldhead,andagoatee,sohelookslikeabuffevilscientist.Thatafternoonheworehiscashmerewintercoatandhisbestbrownsuit,theoneheusedforpubliclectures.Usuallyheexudessomuchconfidencethathedominatesanyroomhewalksinto,butsometimes—likethatafternoon—IsawanothersidetohimthatIdidn’treallyunderstand.Hekeptlookingoverhisshoulderlikewewerebeinghunted.

“Dad?”IsaidasweweregettingofftheA-40.“What’swrong?”“Nosignofthem,”hemuttered.Thenhemust’verealizedhe’dspokenaloud,becausehelookedat

mekindofstartled.“Nothing,Carter.Everything’sfine.”Whichbotheredmebecausemydad’saterribleliar.Ialwaysknewwhenhewashidingsomething,

butIalsoknewnoamountofpesteringwouldgetthetruthoutofhim.Hewasprobablytryingtoprotectme,thoughfromwhatIdidn’tknow.SometimesIwonderedifhehadsomedarksecretinhispast,someoldenemyfollowinghim,maybe;buttheideaseemedridiculous.Dadwasjustanarchaeologist.

Theotherthingthattroubledme:Dadwasclutchinghisworkbag.Usuallywhenhedoesthat,itmeanswe’reindanger.LikethetimegunmenstormedourhotelinCairo.Iheardshotscomingfromthelobbyandrandownstairstocheckonmydad.BythetimeIgotthere,hewasjustcalmlyzippinguphisworkbagwhilethreeunconsciousgunmenhungbytheirfeetfromthechandelier,theirrobesfallingovertheirheadssoyoucouldseetheirboxershorts.Dadclaimednottohavewitnessedanything,andintheendthepoliceblamedafreakchandeliermalfunction.

Anothertime,wegotcaughtinariotinParis.Mydadfoundthenearestparkedcar,pushedmeinto

thebackseat,andtoldmetostaydown.Ipressedmyselfagainstthefloorboardsandkeptmyeyesshuttight.IcouldhearDadinthedriver’sseat,rummaginginhisbag,mumblingsomethingtohimselfwhilethemobyelledanddestroyedthingsoutside.Afewminuteslaterhetoldmeitwassafetogetup.Everyothercarontheblockhadbeenoverturnedandsetonfire.Ourcarhadbeenfreshlywashedandpolished,andseveraltwenty-euronoteshadbeentuckedunderthewindshieldwipers.

Anyway,I’dcometorespectthebag.Itwasourgoodluckcharm.Butwhenmydadkeptitclose,itmeantweweregoingtoneedgoodluck.

Wedrovethroughthecitycenter,headingeasttowardmygrandparents’flat.WepassedthegoldengatesofBuckinghamPalace,thebigstonecolumninTrafalgarSquare.Londonisaprettycoolplace,butafteryou’vetraveledforsolong,allcitiesstarttoblendtogether.OtherkidsImeetsometimessay,“Wow,you’resoluckyyougettotravelsomuch.”Butit’snotlikewespendourtimesightseeingorhavealotofmoneytotravelinstyle.We’vestayedinsomeprettyroughplaces,andwehardlyeverstayanywherelongerthanafewdays.Mostofthetimeitfeelslikewe’refugitivesratherthantourists.

Imean,youwouldn’tthinkmydad’sworkwasdangerous.Hedoeslecturesontopicslike“CanEgyptianMagicReallyKillYou?”and“FavoritePunishmentsintheEgyptianUnderworld”andotherstuffmostpeoplewouldn’tcareabout.ButlikeIsaid,there’sthatothersidetohim.He’salwaysverycautious,checkingeveryhotelroombeforeheletsmewalkintoit.He’lldartintoamuseumtoseesomeartifacts,takeafewnotes,andrushoutagainlikehe’safraidtobecaughtonsecuritycameras.

OnetimewhenIwasyounger,weracedacrosstheCharlesdeGaulleairporttocatchalast-minuteflight,andDaddidn’trelaxuntiltheplanewasofftheground,Iaskedhimpointblankwhathewasrunningfrom,andhelookedatmelikeI’djustpulledthepinoutofagrenade.ForasecondIwasscaredhemightactuallytellmethetruth.Thenhesaid,“Carter,it’snothing.”Asif“nothing”werethemostterriblethingintheworld.

Afterthat,Idecidedmaybeitwasbetternottoaskquestions.

Mygrandparents,theFausts,livedinahousingdevelopmentnearCanaryWharf,rightonthebanksoftheRiverThames.Thetaxiletusoffatthecurb,andmydadaskedthedrivertowait.

WewerehalfwayupthewalkwhenDadfroze.Heturnedandlookedbehindus.“What?”Iasked.ThenIsawthemaninthetrenchcoat.Hewasacrossthestreet,leaningagainstabigdeadtree.He

wasbarrelshaped,withskinthecolorofroastedcoffee.Hiscoatandblackpinstripedsuitlookedexpensive.Hehadlongbraidedhairandworeablackfedorapulleddownlowoverhisdarkroundglasses.Heremindedmeofajazzmusician,thekindmydadwouldalwaysdragmetoseeinconcert.EventhoughIcouldn’tseehiseyes,Igottheimpressionhewaswatchingus.Hemight’vebeenanoldfriendorcolleagueofDad’s.Nomatterwherewewent,Dadwasalwaysrunningintopeopleheknew.Butitdidseemstrangethattheguywaswaitinghere,outsidemygrandparents’.Andhedidn’tlookhappy.

“Carter,”mydadsaid,“goonahead.”“But—”“Getyoursister.I’llmeetyoubackatthetaxi.”Hecrossedthestreettowardthemaninthetrenchcoat,whichleftmewithtwochoices:followmy

dadandseewhatwasgoingon,ordowhatIwastold.Idecidedontheslightlylessdangerouspath.Iwenttoretrievemysister.

BeforeIcouldevenknock,Sadieopenedthedoor.“Lateasusual,”shesaid.Shewasholdinghercat,Muffin,who’dbeena“goingaway”giftfromDadsixyearsbefore.Muffin

neverseemedtogetolderorbigger.Shehadfuzzyyellow-and-blackfurlikeaminiatureleopard,alertyelloweyes,andpointyearsthatweretootallforherhead.AsilverEgyptianpendantdangledfromhercollar.Shedidn’tlookanythinglikeamuffin,butSadiehadbeenlittlewhenshenamedher,soIguessyouhavetocuthersomeslack.

Sadiehadn’tchangedmucheithersincelastsummer.[AsI’mrecordingthis,she’sstandingnexttome,glaring,soIguessI’dbetterbecarefulhowI

describeher.]Youwouldneverguessshe’smysister.Firstofall,she’dbeenlivinginEnglandsolong,shehasa

Britishaccent.Second,shetakesafterourmom,whowaswhite,soSadie’sskinismuchlighterthanmine.Shehasstraightcaramel-coloredhair,notexactlyblondbutnotbrown,whichsheusuallydyeswithstreaksofbrightcolors.Thatdayithadredstreaksdowntheleftside.Hereyesareblue.I’mserious.Blueeyes,justlikeourmom’s.She’sonlytwelve,butshe’sexactlyastallasme,whichisreallyannoying.Shewaschewinggumasusual,dressedforherdayoutwithDadinbatteredjeans,aleatherjacket,andcombatboots,likeshewasgoingtoaconcertandwashopingtostomponsomepeople.Shehadheadphonesdanglingaroundherneckincaseweboredher.

[Okay,shedidn’thitme,soIguessIdidanokayjobofdescribingher.]“Ourplanewaslate,”Itoldher.Shepoppedabubble,rubbedMuffin’shead,andtossedthecatinside.“Gran,goingout!”Fromsomewhereinthehouse,GrandmaFaustmutteredsomethingIcouldn’tmakeout,probably

“Don’tletthemin!”SadieclosedthedoorandregardedmeasifIwereadeadmousehercathadjustdraggedin.“So,

hereyouareagain.”“Yep.”“Comeon,then.”Shesighed.“Let’sgetonwithit.”That’sthewayshewas.No“Hi,howyoubeenthelastsixmonths?Sogladtoseeyou!”oranything.

Butthatwasokaywithme.Whenyouonlyseeeachothertwiceayear,it’slikeyou’redistantcousinsratherthansiblings.Wehadabsolutelynothingincommonexceptourparents.

Wetrudgeddownthesteps.Iwasthinkinghowshesmelledlikeacombinationofoldpeople’shouseandbubblegumwhenshestoppedsoabruptly,Iranintoher.

“Who’sthat?”sheasked.I’dalmostforgottenaboutthedudeinthetrenchcoat.Heandmydadwerestandingacrossthestreet

nexttothebigtree,havingwhatlookedlikeaseriousargument.Dad’sbackwasturnedsoIcouldn’tseehisface,buthegesturedwithhishandslikehedoeswhenhe’sagitated.Theotherguyscowledandshookhishead.

“Dunno,”Isaid.“Hewastherewhenwepulledup.”“Helooksfamiliar.”Sadiefrownedlikeshewastryingtoremember.“Comeon.”“Dadwantsustowaitinthecab,”Isaid,eventhoughIknewitwasnouse.Sadiewasalreadyonthe

move.Insteadofgoingstraightacrossthestreet,shedashedupthesidewalkforhalfablock,ducking

behindcars,thencrossedtotheoppositesideandcrouchedunderalowstonewall.Shestartedsneakingtowardourdad.Ididn’thavemuchchoicebuttofollowherexample,butitmademefeelkindofstupid.

“SixyearsinEngland,”Imuttered,“andshethinksshe’sJamesBond.”Sadieswattedmewithoutlookingbackandkeptcreepingforward.Acouplemorestepsandwewererightbehindthebigdeadtree.Icouldhearmydadontheother

side,saying,“—haveto,Amos.Youknowit’stherightthing.”“No,”saidtheotherman,whomust’vebeenAmos.Hisvoicewasdeepandeven—veryinsistent.

HisaccentwasAmerican.“IfIdon’tstopyou,Julius,theywill.ThePerAnkhisshadowingyou.”Sadieturnedtomeandmouthedthewords“Perwhat?”Ishookmyhead,justasmystified.“Let’sgetoutofhere,”Iwhispered,becauseIfiguredwe’dbe

spottedanyminuteandgetinserioustrouble.Sadie,ofcourse,ignoredme.“Theydon’tknowmyplan,”myfatherwassaying.“Bythetimetheyfigureitout—”“Andthechildren?”Amosasked.Thehairsstooduponthebackofmyneck.“Whataboutthem?”“I’vemadearrangementstoprotectthem,”mydadsaid.“Besides,ifIdon’tdothis,we’reallin

danger.Now,backoff.”“Ican’t,Julius.”“Thenit’saduelyouwant?”Dad’stoneturneddeadlyserious.“Younevercouldbeatme,Amos.”Ihadn’tseenmydadgetviolentsincetheGreatSpatulaIncident,andIwasn’tanxioustoseearepeat

ofthat,butthetwomenseemedtobeedgingtowardafight.BeforeIcouldreact,Sadiepoppedupandshouted,“Dad!”Helookedsurprisedwhenshetackle-huggedhim,butnotnearlyassurprisedastheotherguy,Amos.

Hebackedupsoquickly,hetrippedoverhisowntrenchcoat.He’dtakenoffhisglasses.Icouldn’thelpthinkingthatSadiewasright.Hedidlookfamiliar—likea

verydistantmemory.“I—Imustbegoing,”hemuttered.Hestraightenedhisfedoraandlumbereddowntheroad.Ourdadwatchedhimgo.HekeptonearmprotectivelyaroundSadieandonehandinsidethe

workbagslungoverhisshoulder.Finally,whenAmosdisappearedaroundthecorner,Dadrelaxed.HetookhishandoutofthebagandsmiledatSadie.“Hello,sweetheart.”

Sadiepushedawayfromhimandcrossedherarms.“Oh,nowit’ssweetheart,isit?You’relate.VisitationDay’snearlyover!Andwhatwasthatabout?Who’sAmos,andwhat’sthePerAnkh?”

Dadstiffened.Heglancedatmelikehewaswonderinghowmuchwe’doverheard.“It’snothing,”hesaid,tryingtosoundupbeat.“Ihaveawonderfuleveningplanned.Who’dlikea

privatetouroftheBritishMuseum?”

SadieslumpedinthebackofthetaxibetweenDadandme.“Ican’tbelieveit,”shegrumbled.“Oneeveningtogether,andyouwanttodoresearch.”Dadtriedforasmile.“Sweetheart,it’llbefun.ThecuratoroftheEgyptiancollectionpersonally

invited—”“Right,bigsurprise.”Sadieblewastrandofred-streakedhairoutofherface.“ChristmasEve,and

we’regoingtoseesomemoldyoldrelicsfromEgypt.Doyoueverthinkaboutanythingelse?”Daddidn’tgetmad.HenevergetsmadatSadie.Hejuststaredoutthewindowatthedarkeningsky

andtherain.“Yes,”hesaidquietly.“Ido.”WheneverDadgotquietlikethatandstaredoffintonowhere,Iknewhewasthinkingaboutour

mom.Thelastfewmonths,ithadbeenhappeningalot.I’dwalkintoourhotelroomandfindhimwithhiscellphoneinhishands,Mom’spicturesmilingupathimfromthescreen—herhairtuckedunderaheadscarf,herblueeyesstartlinglybrightagainstthedesertbackdrop.

Orwe’dbeatsomedigsite.I’dseeDadstaringatthehorizon,andI’dknowhewasrememberinghowhe’dmether—twoyoungscientistsintheValleyoftheKings,onadigtodiscoveralosttomb.DadwasanEgyptologist.MomwasananthropologistlookingforancientDNA.He’dtoldmethestoryathousandtimes.

OurtaxisnakeditswayalongthebanksoftheThames.JustpastWaterlooBridge,mydadtensed.“Driver,”hesaid.“Stophereamoment.”ThecabbiepulledoverontheVictoriaEmbankment.“Whatisit,Dad?”Iasked.Hegotoutofthecablikehehadn’theardme.WhenSadieandIjoinedhimonthesidewalk,hewas

staringupatCleopatra’sNeedle.Incaseyou’veneverseenit:theNeedleisanobelisk,notaneedle,anditdoesn’thaveanythingto

dowithCleopatra.IguesstheBritishjustthoughtthenamesoundedcoolwhentheybroughtittoLondon.It’saboutseventyfeettall,whichwould’vebeenreallyimpressivebackinAncientEgypt,butontheThames,withallthetallbuildingsaround,itlookssmallandsad.Youcoulddriverightbyitandnotevenrealizeyou’djustpassedsomethingthatwasathousandyearsolderthanthecityofLondon.

“God.”Sadiewalkedaroundinafrustratedcircle.“Dowehavetostopforeverymonument?”Mydadstaredatthetopoftheobelisk.“Ihadtoseeitagain,”hemurmured.“Whereithappened...”Afreezingwindblewofftheriver.Iwantedtogetbackinthecab,butmydadwasreallystartingto

worryme.I’dneverseenhimsodistracted.“What,Dad?”Iasked.“Whathappenedhere?”“ThelastplaceIsawher.”Sadiestoppedpacing.Shescowledatmeuncertainly,thenbackatDad.“Hangon.Doyoumean

Mum?”DadbrushedSadie’shairbehindherear,andshewassosurprised,shedidn’tevenpushhimaway.Ifeltliketherainhadfrozenmesolid.Mom’sdeathhadalwaysbeenaforbiddensubject.Iknew

she’ddiedinanaccidentinLondon.Iknewmygrandparentsblamedmydad.Butnoonewouldevertellusthedetails.I’dgivenupaskingmydad,partlybecauseitmadehimsosad,partlybecauseheabsolutelyrefusedtotellmeanything.“Whenyou’reolder”wasallhewouldsay,whichwasthemostfrustratingresponseever.

“You’retellingusshediedhere,”Isaid.“AtCleopatra’sNeedle?Whathappened?”Heloweredhishead.“Dad!”Sadieprotested.“Igopastthiseveryday,andyoumeantosay—allthistime—andIdidn’t

evenknow?”“Doyoustillhaveyourcat?”Dadaskedher,whichseemedlikeareallystupidquestion.“OfcourseI’vestillgotthecat!”shesaid.“Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?”“Andyouramulet?”

Sadie’shandwenttoherneck.Whenwewerelittle,rightbeforeSadiewenttolivewithourgrandparents,DadhadgivenusbothEgyptianamulets.MinewasanEyeofHorus,whichwasapopularprotectionsymbolinAncientEgypt.

Infactmydadsaysthemodernpharmacist’ssymbol,Rx,isasimplifiedversionoftheEyeofHorus,becausemedicineissupposedtoprotectyou.

Anyway,Ialwaysworemyamuletundermyshirt,butIfiguredSadiewould’velosthersorthrownitaway.

Tomysurprise,shenodded.“’CourseIhaveit,Dad,butdon’tchangethesubject.Gran’salwaysgoingonabouthowyoucausedMum’sdeath.That’snottrue,isit?”

Wewaited.Foronce,SadieandIwantedexactlythesamething—thetruth.“Thenightyourmotherdied,”myfatherstarted,“hereattheNeedle—”Asuddenflashilluminatedtheembankment.Iturned,halfblind,andjustforamomentIglimpsed

twofigures:atallpalemanwithaforkedbeardandwearingcream-coloredrobes,andacoppery-skinnedgirlindarkbluerobesandaheadscarf—thekindofclothesI’dseenhundredsoftimesinEgypt.Theywerejuststandingtheresidebyside,nottwentyfeetaway,watchingus.Thenthelightfaded.Thefiguresmeltedintoafuzzyafterimage.Whenmyeyesreadjustedtothedarkness,theyweregone.

“Um...”Sadiesaidnervously.“Didyoujustseethat?”“Getinthecab,”mydadsaid,pushingustowardthecurb.“We’reoutoftime.”Fromthatpointon,Dadclammedup.“Thisisn’ttheplacetotalk,”hesaid,glancingbehindus.He’dpromisedthecabbieanextraten

poundsifhegotustothemuseuminunderfiveminutes,andthecabbiewasdoinghisbest.“Dad,”Itried,“thosepeopleattheriver—”“Andtheotherbloke,Amos,”Sadiesaid.“AretheyEgyptianpoliceorsomething?”“Look,bothofyou,”Dadsaid,“I’mgoingtoneedyourhelptonight.Iknowit’shard,butyouhaveto

bepatient.I’llexplaineverything,Ipromise,afterwegettothemuseum.I’mgoingtomakeeverythingrightagain.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”Sadieinsisted.“Makewhatright?”Dad’sexpressionwasmorethansad.Itwasalmostguilty.Withachill,IthoughtaboutwhatSadie

hadsaid:aboutourgrandparentsblaminghimforMom’sdeath.Thatcouldn’tbewhathewastalkingabout,couldit?

ThecabbieswervedontoGreatRussellStreetandscreechedtoahaltinfrontofthemuseum’smaingates.

“Justfollowmylead,”Dadtoldus.“Whenwemeetthecurator,actnormal.”IwasthinkingthatSadieneveractednormal,butIdecidednottosaythat.Weclimbedoutofthecab.IgotourluggagewhileDadpaidthedriverwithabigwadofcash.Then

hedidsomethingstrange.Hethrewahandfulofsmallobjectsintothebackseat—theylookedlikestones,butitwastoodarkformetobesure.“Keepdriving,”hetoldthecabbie.“TakeustoChelsea.”

Thatmadenosensesincewewerealreadyoutofthecab,butthedriverspedoff.IglancedatDad,

thenbackatthecab,andbeforeitturnedthecorneranddisappearedinthedark,Icaughtaweirdglimpseofthreepassengersinthebackseat:amanandtwokids.

Iblinked.Therewasnowaythecabcould’vepickedupanotherfaresofast.“Dad—”“Londoncabsdon’tstayemptyverylong,”hesaidmatter-of-factly.“Comealong,kids.”Hemarchedoffthroughthewroughtirongates.Forasecond,SadieandIhesitated.“Carter,whatisgoingon?”Ishookmyhead.“I’mnotsureIwanttoknow.”“Well,stayouthereinthecoldifyouwant,butI’mnotleavingwithoutanexplanation.”Sheturned

andmarchedafterourdad.Lookingbackonit,Ishould’verun.Ishould’vedraggedSadieoutofthereandgottenasfarawayas

possible.InsteadIfollowedherthroughthegates.