PercyJackson2

TheSeaMonsters

by

RickRiordan

ONE

MYBESTFRIENDSHOPS

FORAWEDDINGDRESS

Mynightmarestartedlikethis.Iwas standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the

middleofthenight.Astormwasblowing.Windandrainrippedatthepalmtreesalong the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, theirwindows boarded up.A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the oceanchurned.

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

ThenIheardhoovesclatteringagainstthepavement.IturnedandsawmyfriendGroverrunningforhislife.

Yeah,Isaidhooves.Groverisasatyr.Fromthewaistup,helookslikeatypicalganglyteenager

withapeach-fuzzgoateeandabadcaseofacne.Hewalkswithastrangelimp,but unless you happen to catch him without his pants on (which I don’trecommend),you’dneverknowtherewasanythingun-humanabouthim.Baggyjeansandfakefeethidethefactthathe’sgotfurryhindquartersandhooves.

Groverhadbeenmybestfriendinsixthgrade.He’dgoneonthisadventurewithme and a girl namedAnnabeth to save theworld, but I hadn’t seen himsincelastJuly,whenhesetoffaloneonadangerousquest-aquestnosatyrhadeverreturnedfrom.

Anyway, inmy dream, Grover was hauling goat tail, holding his humanshoesinhishandsthewayhedoeswhenheneedstomovefast.Hecloppedpastthelittletouristshopsandsurfboardrentalplaces.Thewindbentthepalmtreesalmosttotheground.

Groverwasterrifiedofsomethingbehindhim.Hemust’vejustcomefromthe beach.Wet sandwas caked in his fur.He’d escaped from somewhere.Hewastryingtogetawayfrom…something.

Abone-rattlinggrowlcutthroughthestorm.BehindGrover,atthefarendof the block, a shadowy figure loomed. It swatted aside a street lamp, whichburstinashowerofsparks.

Groverstumbled,whimperinginfear.Hemutteredtohimself,Havetogetaway.Havetowarnthem!

I couldn’t see what was chasing him, but I could hear it muttering and

cursing.Thegroundshookasitgotcloser.Groverdashedaroundastreetcornerandfaltered.He’drunintoadead-endcourtyardfullofshops.Notimetobackup. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm. The sign above thedarkeneddisplaywindowread:ST.AUGUSTINEBRIDALBOUTIQUE.

Groverdashedinside.Hedovebehindarackofweddingdresses.Themonster’sshadowpassedinfrontoftheshop.Icouldsmellthething-a

sickeningcombinationofwet sheepwool and rottenmeat and thatweird sourbodyodoronlymonstershave,likeaskunkthat’sbeenlivingoffMexicanfood.

Grovertrembledbehindtheweddingdresses.Themonster’sshadowpassedon.

Silenceexceptfortherain.Grovertookadeepbreath.Maybethethingwasgone.

Then lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded, and amonstrousvoicebellowed:“MIIIIINE!”

Isatboltupright,shiveringinmybed.Therewasnostorm.Nomonster.Morningsunlightfilteredthroughmybedroomwindow.I thought I sawa shadow flicker across theglass-ahumanlike shape.But

then therewas a knock onmy bedroom door-mymom called: “Percy, you’regoingtobelate”-andtheshadowatthewindowdisappeared.

Itmust’ve beenmy imagination.A fifth-storywindowwith a rickety oldfireescape…therecouldn’thavebeenanyoneoutthere.

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

“Coming,”Imanaged.Ifeltundermypillow.Myfingersclosedreassuringlyaroundtheballpoint

pen I always slept with. I brought it out, studied the Ancient Greek writingengravedontheside:Anaklusmos.Riptide.

I thought about uncapping it, but something heldme back. I hadn’t usedRiptideforsolong….

Besides,mymomhadmademepromisenottousedeadlyweaponsintheapartment after I’d swung a javelin the wrong way and taken out her chinacabinet.IputAnaklusmosonmynightstandanddraggedmyselfoutofbed.

IgotdressedasquicklyasIcould.Itriednottothinkaboutmynightmareormonstersortheshadowatmywindow.

Havetogetaway.Havetowarnthem!WhathadGrovermeant?Imadeathree-fingeredclawovermyheartandpushedoutward-anancient

gestureGroverhadoncetaughtmeforwardingoffevil.

Thedreamcouldn’thavebeenreal.Lastdayofschool.Mymomwasright,Ishouldhavebeenexcited.Forthe

firsttimeinmylife,I’dalmostmadeitanentireyearwithoutgettingexpelled.No weird accidents. No fights in the classroom. No teachers turning intomonsters and trying to kill me with poisoned cafeteria food or explodinghomework. Tomorrow, I’d be on my way to my favorite place in the world-CampHalf-Blood.

Onlyonemoredaytogo.SurelyevenIcouldn’tmessthatup.Asusual,Ididn’thaveacluehowwrongIwas.Mymommadebluewafflesandblueeggsforbreakfast.She’sfunnythat

way,celebratingspecialoccasionswithbluefood.Ithinkit’sherwayofsayinganything ispossible.Percycanpass seventhgrade.Wafflescanbeblue.Littlemiracleslikethat.

Iateatthekitchentablewhilemymomwasheddishes.Shewasdressedinherworkuniform-astarryblueskirtandared-and-whitestripedblousesheworeto sell candyatSweetonAmerica.Her longbrownhairwaspulledback in aponytail.

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

“Yeah…fine.”Butshecouldalwaystellwhensomethingwasbotheringme.Shedriedher

handsandsatdownacrossfromme.“School,or…”Shedidn’tneedtofinish.Iknewwhatshewasasking.“IthinkGrover’sintrouble,”Isaid,andItoldheraboutmydream.Shepursedherlips.Wedidn’ttalkmuchabouttheotherpartofmylife.We

triedtoliveasnormallyaspossible,butmymomknewallaboutGrover.“Iwouldn’tbe tooworried,dear,”shesaid.“Grover isabigsatyrnow.If

therewereaproblem,I’msurewewould’veheardfrom…fromcamp….”Hershoulderstensedasshesaidthewordcamp.

“Whatisit?”Iasked.“Nothing,”shesaid.“I’ll tellyouwhat.Thisafternoonwe’llcelebrate the

endofschool.I’ll takeyouandTysontoRockefellerCenter-tothatskateboardshopyoulike.”

Oh, man, that was tempting. We were always struggling with money.Betweenmymom’snightclassesandmyprivateschooltuition,wecouldneveraffordtodospecialstufflikeshopforaskateboard.Butsomethinginhervoicebotheredme.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I thought we were packing me up for camptonight.”

She twisted her dishrag. “Ah, dear, about that… I got a message fromChironlastnight.”

Myheartsank.ChironwastheactivitiesdirectoratCampHalf-Blood.Hewouldn’tcontactusunlesssomethingseriouswasgoingon.“Whatdidhesay?”

“He thinks… itmightnot be safe for you to come to camp just yet.Wemighthavetopostpone.”

“Postpone?Mom,howcoulditnotbesafe?I’mahalf-blood!It’sliketheonlysafeplaceonearthforme!”

“Usually,dear.Butwiththeproblemsthey’rehaving-““Whatproblems?”“Percy… I’m very, very sorry. Iwas hoping to talk to you about it this

afternoon. Ican’texplain itallnow. I’mnotevensureChironcan.Everythinghappenedsosuddenly.”

My mind was reeling. How could I not go to camp? I wanted to ask amillionquestions,butjustthenthekitchenclockchimedthehalf-hour.

Mymomlookedalmostrelieved.“Seven-thirty,dear.Youshouldgo.Tysonwillbewaiting.”

“But-““Percy,we’lltalkthisafternoon.Goontoschool.”ThatwasthelastthingIwantedtodo,butmymomhadthisfragilelookin

her eyes-a kind of warning, like if I pushed her too hard she’d start to cry.Besides,shewasrightaboutmyfriendTyson.Ihadtomeethimatthesubwaystationontimeorhe’dgetupset.Hewasscaredoftravelingundergroundalone.

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

Shewouldn’tmeetmyeyes.“We’lltalkthisafternoon,dear.I’llexplain…asmuchasIcan.”

Reluctantly,I toldhergood-bye.I joggeddownstairstocatchtheNumberTwotrain.

Ididn’tknowitatthetime,butmymomandIwouldnevergettohaveourafternoontalk.

Infact,Iwouldn’tbeseeinghomeforalong,longtime.AsIsteppedoutside,Iglancedatthebrownstonebuildingacrossthestreet.

JustforasecondIsawadarkshapeinthemorningsunlight-ahumansilhouetteagainstthebrickwall,ashadowthatbelongedtonoone.

Thenitrippledandvanished.

TWO

IPLAYDODGEBALL

WITHCANNIBALS

Mydaystartednormal.OrasnormalasitevergetsatMeriwetherCollegePrep.

See, it’s this “progressive” school in downtownManhattan,whichmeanswesitonbeanbagchairs insteadofatdesks,andwedon’tgetgrades,and theteacherswearjeansandrockconcertT-shirtstowork.

That’sallcoolwithme. Imean, I’mADHDanddyslexic, likemosthalf-bloods,soI’dneverdonethatgreat inregularschoolsevenbeforetheykickedme out. The only bad thing about Meriwether was that the teachers alwayslookedonthebrightsideofthings,andthekidsweren’talways…well,bright.

Takemyfirstclasstoday:English.ThewholemiddleschoolhadreadthisbookcalledLordoftheFlies,whereallthesekidsgetmaroonedonanislandandgo psycho. So for our final exam, our teachers sent us into the break yard tospend an hour with no adult supervision to see what would happen. Whathappenedwasamassivewedgiecontestbetweentheseventhandeighthgraders,two pebble fights, and a full-tackle basketball game. The school bully, MattSloan,ledmostofthoseactivities.

Sloanwasn’tbigorstrong,butheactedlikehewas.Hehadeyeslikeapitbull, and shaggy black hair, and he always dressed in expensive but sloppyclothes, likehewantedeverybodytoseehowlittlehecaredabouthisfamily’smoney.Oneofhisfrontteethwaschippedfromthetimehe’dtakenhisdaddy’sPorscheforajoyrideandrunintoaPLEASESLOWDOWNFORCHILDRENsign.

Anyway,SloanwasgivingeverybodywedgiesuntilhemadethemistakeoftryingitonmyfriendTyson.

Tysonwas theonlyhomelesskidatMeriwetherCollegePrep.AsnearasmymomandIcouldfigure,he’dbeenabandonedbyhisparentswhenhewasveryyoung,probablybecausehewasso…different.Hewassix-foot-threeandbuilt like theAbominableSnowman,buthe cried a lot andwas scaredof justabouteverything,includinghisownreflection.Hisfacewaskindofmisshapenandbrutal-looking.Icouldn’ttellyouwhatcolorhiseyeswere,becauseIcouldnevermakemyselflookhigherthanhiscrookedteeth.Hisvoicewasdeep,buthe talked funny, like amuch younger kid-I guess because he’d never gone toschoolbeforecomingtoMeriwether.Heworetatteredjeans,grimysize-twentysneakers,andaplaidflannelshirtwithholesinit.HesmelledlikeaNewYorkCityalleyway,becausethat’swherehelived,inacardboardrefrigeratorboxoff

72ndStreet.MeriwetherPrephadadoptedhimasacommunityserviceprojectsoallthe

studentscouldfeelgoodaboutthemselves.Unfortunately,mostofthemcouldn’tstand Tyson. Once they discovered he was a big softie, despite his massivestrengthandhisscarylooks,theymadethemselvesfeelgoodbypickingonhim.Iwasprettymuchhisonlyfriend,whichmeanthewasmyonlyfriend.

Mymomhad complained to the school amillion times that theyweren’tdoingenoughtohelphim.She’dcalledsocialservices,butnothingeverseemedtohappen.The socialworkers claimedTysondidn’t exist.They sworeup anddown that they’dvisited the alleywedescribed and couldn’t findhim, thoughhowyoumissagiantkidlivinginarefrigeratorbox,Idon’tknow.

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

“You freak!” Sloan yelled. “Why don’t you go back to your cardboardbox!”

Tysonstartedsobbing.Hesatdownonthejunglegymsohardhebentthebar,andburiedhisheadinhishands.

“Takeitback,Sloan!”Ishouted.Sloan just sneeredatme. “Whydoyouevenbother, Jackson?Youmight

havefriendsifyouweren’talwaysstickingupforthatfreak.”Iballedmyfists.Ihopedmyfacewasn’tasredasitfelt.“He’snotafreak.

He’sjust…”Itriedtothinkoftherightthingtosay,butSloanwasn’tlistening.Heand

his big ugly friends were too busy laughing. I wondered if it were myimagination,orifSloanhadmoregoonshangingaroundhimthanusual.Iwasusedtoseeinghimwithtwoorthree,buttodayhehadlike,halfadozenmore,andIwasprettysureI’dneverseenthembefore.

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

inspect the carnage. He pronounced that we’d understood Lord of the Fliesperfectly.Weallpassedhiscourse, andweshouldnever,nevergrowup tobeviolentpeople.MattSloannoddedearnestly,thengavemeachip-toothedgrin.

IhadtopromisetobuyTysonanextrapeanutbuttersandwichatlunchtogethimtostopsobbing.

“I…Iamafreak?”heaskedme.“No,”Ipromised,grittingmyteeth.“MattSloanisthefreak.”Tysonsniffled.“Youareagoodfriend.Missyounextyearif…ifIcan’t

…”

Hisvoicetrembled.Irealizedhedidn’tknowifhe’dbeinvitedbacknextyearforthecommunityserviceproject.Iwonderediftheheadmasterhadevenbotheredtalkingtohimaboutit.

“Don’tworry,bigguy,”Imanaged.“Everything’sgoingtobefine.”Tyson gave me such a grateful look I felt like a big liar. How could I

promiseakidlikehimthatanythingwouldbefine?Our next exam was science. Mrs. Tesla told us that we had to mix

chemicalsuntilwesucceededinmakingsomethingexplode,Tysonwasmylabpartner.Hishandswerewaytoobigforthetinyvialsweweresupposedtouse.Heaccidentallyknockedatrayofchemicalsoffthecounterandmadeanorangemushroomcloudinthetrashcan.

AfterMrs.Teslaevacuatedthelabandcalledthehazardouswasteremovalsquad,shepraisedTysonandmeforbeingnaturalchemists.Wewere the firstoneswho’deveracedherexaminunderthirtyseconds.

I was glad themorning went fast, because it kept me from thinking toomuch about my problems. I couldn’t stand the idea that something might bewrongatcamp.Evenworse, Icouldn’t shake thememoryofmybaddream. IhadaterriblefeelingthatGroverwasindanger.

Insocialstudies,whileweweredrawinglatitude/longitudemaps,Iopenedmynotebookandstaredatthephotoinside-myfriendAnnabethonvacationinWashington,D.C. Shewaswearing jeans and a denim jacket over her orangeCampHalf-BloodT-shirt.Her blond hairwas pulled back in a bandanna. Shewas standing in frontof theLincolnMemorialwithher armscrossed, lookingextremely pleasedwith herself, like she’d personally designed the place. See,Annabethwantstobeanarchitectwhenshegrowsup,soshe’salwaysvisitingfamous monuments and stuff. She’s weird that way. She’d e-mailed me thepictureafterspringbreak,andeveryonceinawhileI’dlookatitjusttoremindmyselfshewasrealandCampHalf-Bloodhadn’tjustbeenmyimagination.

IwishedAnnabethwerehere.She’dknowwhattomakeofmydream.I’dnever admit it to her, but shewas smarter thanme, even if shewas annoyingsometimes.

IwasabouttoclosemynotebookwhenMattSloanreachedoverandrippedthephotooutoftherings.

“Hey!”Iprotested.Sloan checked out the picture and his eyes got wide. “Noway, Jackson.

Whoisthat?Sheisnotyour-““Giveitback!”Myearsfelthot.Sloan handed the photo to his ugly buddies, who snickered and started

rippingituptomakespitwads.Theywerenewkidswhomust’vebeenvisiting,

because theywere allwearing those stupidHI!MYNAME IS: tags from theadmissions office. They must’ve had a weird sense of humor, too, becausethey’dall filled instrangenames like:MARROWSUCKER,SKULLEATER,andJOEBOB.Nohumanbeingshadnameslikethat.

“These guys are moving here next year,” Sloan bragged, like that wassupposed to scareme. “I bet they can pay the tuition, too, unlike your retardfriend.”

“He’snotretarded.”Ihadtotryreally,reallyhardnottopunchSloanintheface.

“You’resucha loser,Jackson.Good thingI’mgonnaputyououtofyourmiserynextperiod.”

Hishugebuddieschewedupmyphoto. Iwanted topulverize them,but Iwas under strict orders from Chiron never to take my anger out on regularmortals, no matter how obnoxious they were. I had to save my fighting formonsters.

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

LikeanygirlatMeriwetherwouldeverbecaughtdeadcallingmyname.BeforeIhadtimetoconsiderwhetherornotI’dbeenimaginingthings,a

crowdofkids rushed for thegym,carryingTysonandmealongwith them. ItwastimeforPE.Ourcoachhadpromisedusafree-for-alldodgeballgame,andMattSloanhadpromisedtokillme.

The gym uniform atMeriwether is sky blue shorts and tie-dyed T-shirts.Fortunately,we didmost of our athletic stuff inside, sowe didn’t have to jogthroughTribecalookinglikeabunchofboot-camphippiechildren.

IchangedasquicklyasIcouldinthelockerroombecauseIdidn’twanttodealwithSloan.IwasabouttoleavewhenTysoncalled,“Percy?”

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

“Oh.Yeah.”Itriednottosoundaggravatedaboutit.“Yeah,sure,man.”Tysonduckedinsidetheweightroom.Istoodguardoutsidethedoorwhile

hechanged.Ifeltkindofawkwarddoingthis,butheaskedmetomostdays.Ithinkit’sbecausehe’scompletelyhairyandhe’sgotweirdscarsonhisbackthatI’veneverhadthecouragetoaskhimabout.

Anyway,I’dlearnedthehardwaythatifpeopleteasedTysonwhilehewasdressingout,he’dgetupsetandstartrippingthedoorsofflockers.

When we got into the gym, Coach Nunley was sitting at his little desk

readingSports Illustrated.Nunleywasaboutamillionyearsold,withbifocalsandno teethandagreasywaveofgrayhair.Heremindedmeof theOracleatCamp Half-Blood-which was a shriveled-up mummy-except Coach Nunleymovedalotlessandheneverbillowedgreensmoke.Well,atleastnotthatI’dobserved.

MattSloansaid,“Coach,canIbecaptain?”“Eh?”CoachNunley lookedupfromhismagazine.“Yeah,”hemumbled.

“Mm-hmm.”Sloangrinnedandtookchargeofthepicking.Hemademetheotherteam’s

captain,butitdidn’tmatterwhoIpicked,becauseallthejocksandthepopularkidsmovedovertoSloan’sside.Sodidthebiggroupofvisitors.

OnmysideIhadTyson,CoreyBailerthecomputergeek,RajMandalithecalculuswhiz,andahalfdozenotherkidswhoalwaysgotharassedbySloanandhisgang.NormallyIwould’vebeenokaywith justTyson-hewasworthhalfateam all by himself-but the visitors on Sloan’s team were almost as tall andstrong-lookingasTyson,andthereweresixofthem.

MattSloanspilledacagefullofballsinthemiddleofthegym.“Scared,”Tysonmumbled.“Smellfunny.”I looked at him. “What smells funny?” Because I didn’t figure he was

talkingabouthimself.“Them.”TysonpointedatSloan’snewfriends.“Smellfunny.”Thevisitorswere cracking their knuckles, eyeingus like itwas slaughter

time. Icouldn’thelpwonderingwhere theywere from.Someplacewhere theyfedkidsrawmeatandbeatthemwithsticks.

Sloanblew thecoach’swhistleand thegamebegan.Sloan’s teamran forthecenterline.Onmyside,RajMandaliyelledsomethinginUrdu,probably“Ihave togopotty!”and ran for theexit.CoreyBailer tried tocrawlbehind thewallmatandhide.Therestofmyteamdidtheirbest tocowerinfearandnotlookliketargets.

“Tyson,”Isaid.“Let’sg-“Aballslammedintomygut.Isatdownhardinthemiddleofthegymfloor.

Theotherteamexplodedinlaughter.My eyesightwas fuzzy. I felt like I’d just gotten theHeimlichmaneuver

fromagorilla.Icouldn’tbelieveanybodycouldthrowthathard.Tysonyelled,“Percy,duck!”Irolledasanotherdodgeballwhistledpastmyearatthespeedofsound.Whooom!Ithitthewallmat,andCoreyBaileryelped.“Hey!”IyelledatSloan’steam.“Youcouldkillsomebody!”

ThevisitornamedJoeBobgrinnedatmeevilly.Somehow,helookedalotbiggernow…eventallerthanTyson.HisbicepsbulgedbeneathhisT-shirt.“Ihopeso,PerseusJackson!Ihopeso!”

Thewayhesaidmynamesentachilldownmyback.NobodycalledmePerseusexceptthosewhoknewmytrueidentity.Friends…andenemies.

WhathadTysonsaid?Theysmellfunny.Monsters.All aroundMatt Sloan, the visitors were growing in size. They were no

longer kids. Theywere eight-foot-tall giantswithwild eyes, pointy teeth, andhairyarmstattooedwithsnakesandhulawomenandValentinehearts.

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

but the giant named Marrow Sucker threw a ball with deadly accuracy. Itstreaked past Raj Mandali just as he was about to leave and hit the door,slamming it shut like magic. Raj and some of the other kids banged on itdesperatelybutitwouldn’tbudge.

“Letthemgo!”Iyelledatthegiants.TheonecalledJoeBobgrowledatme.Hehada tattooonhisbicepsthat

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

Hewavedhishandandanewbatchofdodgeballsappearedonthecenterline-but theseballsweren’tmadeof red rubber.Theywerebronze, the sizeofcannonballs,perforatedlikewiffleballswithfirebubblingouttheholes.Theymust’vebeensearinghot,butthegiantspickedthemupwiththeirbarehands.

“Coach!”Iyelled.Nunley looked up sleepily, but if he saw anything abnormal about the

dodgeball game, he didn’t let on. That’s the problemwithmortals.Amagicalforce called theMist obscures the true appearanceofmonsters andgods fromtheir vision, somortals tend to seeonlywhat they canunderstand.Maybe thecoachsawafeweighthgraderspoundingtheyoungerkidslikeusual.Maybetheother kids saw Matt Sloan’s thugs getting ready to toss Molotov cocktailsaround. (It wouldn’t have been the first time.) At any rate, I was pretty surenobody else realized we were dealing with genuine man-eating bloodthirstymonsters.

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

cometsailedpastmyshoulder.“Corey!”Iscreamed.

Tysonpulledhimoutfrombehindtheexercisematjustastheballexplodedagainstit,blastingthemattosmokingshreds.

“Run!”Itoldmyteammates.“Theotherexit!”Theyranforthelockerroom,butwithanotherwaveofJoeBob’shand,that

dooralsoslammedshut.“Noone leaves unless you’re out!” JoeBob roared. “Andyou’re not out

untilweeatyou!”Helaunchedhisownfireball.Myteammatesscatteredasitblastedacrater

inthegymfloor.IreachedforRiptide,whichIalwayskeptinmypocket,butthenIrealized

Iwaswearing gym shorts. I had no pockets. Riptidewas tucked inmy jeansinsidemygymlocker.Andthelockerroomdoorwassealed.Iwascompletelydefenseless.

Another fireball came streaking towardme. Tyson pushedme out of theway,buttheexplosionstillblewmeheadoverheels.Ifoundmyselfsprawledonthe gym floor, dazed from smoke,my tie-dyed T-shirt pepperedwith sizzlingholes.Justacrossthecenterline,twohungrygiantswereglaringdownatme.

“Flesh!”theybellowed.“Herofleshforlunch!”Theybothtookaim.“Percyneedshelp!”Tysonyelled,andhejumpedinfrontofmejustasthey

threwtheirballs.“Tyson!”Iscreamed,butitwastoolate.Both balls slammed into him… but no… he’d caught them. Somehow

Tyson, who was so clumsy he knocked over lab equipment and brokeplayground structures on a regular basis, had caught two fiery metal ballsspeeding toward him at a zillion miles an hour. He sent them hurtling backtoward their surprised owners, who screamed, “BAAAAAD!” as the bronzespheresexplodedagainsttheirchests.

The giants disintegrated in twin columns of flame-a sure sign they weremonsters,allright.Monstersdon’tdie.Theyjustdissipateintosmokeanddust,whichsavesheroesalotoftroublecleaningupafterafight.

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

“Tyson!”Isaid.“Lookout!”Another comethurtled towardus.Tyson just had time to swat it aside. It

flewstraightoverCoachNunley’sheadandlandedinthebleacherswithahugeKA-BOOM!

Kidswererunningaroundscreaming,tryingtoavoidthesizzlingcratersinthefloor.Otherswerebangingonthedoor,callingforhelp.Sloanhimselfstoodpetrifiedinthemiddleofthecourt,watchingindisbeliefasballsofdeathflew

aroundhim.CoachNunleystillwasn’tseeinganything.Hetappedhishearingaid like

the explosions were giving him interference, but he kept his eyes on hismagazine.

Surely thewholeschoolcouldhear thenoise.Theheadmaster, thepolice,somebodywouldcomehelpus.

“Victorywillbeours!”roaredJoeBobtheCannibal.“Wewillfeastonyourbones!”

Iwanted to tellhimhewas taking thedodgeballgameway tooseriously,but before I could, he hefted another ball.The other three giants followedhislead.

I knewwewere dead. Tyson couldn’t deflect all those balls at once.Hishands had to be seriously burned from blocking the first volley.Without mysword…

Ihadacrazyidea.Irantowardthelockerroom.“Move!”Itoldmyteammates.“Awayfromthedoor.”Explosionsbehindme.Tysonhadbattedtwooftheballsbacktowardtheir

ownersandblastedthemtoashes.Thatlefttwogiantsstillstanding.Athirdballhurtledstraightatme.Iforcedmyselftowait-oneMississippi,

twoMississippi-thendoveasideasthefieryspheredemolishedthelockerroomdoor.

Now,Ifiguredthatthebuilt-upgasinmostboys’lockerroomswasenoughtocauseanexplosion,soIwasn’tsurprisedwhentheflamingdodgeballignitedahugeWHOOOOOOOM!

The wall blew apart. Locker doors, socks, athletic supporters, and othervariousnastypersonalbelongingsrainedalloverthegym.

IturnedjustintimetoseeTysonpunchSkullEaterintheface.Thegiantcrumpled. But the last giant, Joe Bob, had wisely held on to his own ball,waitingforanopportunity.HethrewjustasTysonwasturningtofacehim.

“No!”Iyelled.TheballcaughtTysonsquare in thechest.Heslid the lengthof thecourt

andslammedintothebackwall,whichcrackedandpartiallycrumbledontopofhim,makingaholerightontoChurchStreet.Ididn’tseehowTysoncouldstillbe alive, but he only looked dazed. The bronze ball was smoking at his feet.Tysontriedtopickitup,buthefellback,stunned,intoapileofcinderblocks.

“Well!”JoeBobgloated.“I’mthelastonestanding!I’llhaveenoughmeattobringBabycakesadoggiebag!”

HepickedupanotherballandaimeditatTyson.“Stop!”Iyelled.“It’smeyouwant!”Thegiantgrinned.“Youwishtodiefirst,younghero?”Ihadtodosomething.Riptidehadtobearoundheresomewhere.ThenIspottedmyjeans inasmokingheapofclothes rightby thegiant’s

feet.IfIcouldonlygetthere….Iknewitwashopeless,butIcharged.Thegiant laughed.“My lunchapproaches.”He raisedhisarm to throw. I

bracedmyselftodie.Suddenlythegiant’sbodywentrigid.Hisexpressionchangedfromgloating

tosurprise.Rightwherehisbellybuttonshould’vebeen,hisT-shirtrippedopenandhegrewsomethinglikeahorn-no,notahorn-theglowingtipofablade.

Theballdroppedoutofhishand.Themonsterstareddownattheknifethathadjustrunhimthroughfrombehind.

Hemuttered,“Ow,”andburstintoacloudofgreenflame,whichIfiguredwasgoingtomakeBabycakesprettyupset.

Standing in the smokewasmy friendAnnabeth.Her facewasgrimyandscratched.Shehadaraggedbackpackslungoverhershoulder,herbaseballcaptuckedinherpocket,abronzeknifeinherhand,andawildlookinherstorm-grayeyes,likeshe’djustbeenchasedathousandmilesbyghosts.

Matt Sloan, who’d been standing there dumbfounded the whole time,finallycametohissenses.HeblinkedatAnnabeth,asifhedimlyrecognizedherfrommynotebookpicture.“That’sthegirl…That’sthegirl-“

Annabethpunchedhimin thenoseandknockedhimflat.“Andyou,”shetoldhim,“layoffmyfriend.”

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

“Annabeth…”Istammered.“Howdidyou…howlonghaveyou…”“Pretty much all morning.” She sheathed her bronze knife. “I’ve been

tryingtofindagoodtimetotalktoyou,butyouwereneveralone.”“TheshadowIsawthismorning-thatwas-”Myfacefelthot.“Ohmygods,

youwerelookinginmybedroomwindow?”“There’sno time toexplain!”shesnapped, thoughshe lookeda little red-

facedherself.“Ijustdidn’twantto-““There!” a woman screamed. The doors burst open and the adults came

pouringin.“Meetmeoutside,”Annabeth toldme.“Andhim.”Shepointed toTyson,

who was still sitting dazed against the wall. Annabeth gave him a look of

distastethatIdidn’tquiteunderstand.“You’dbetterbringhim.”“What?”“Notime!”shesaid.“Hurry!”She put on her Yankees baseball cap, which was a magic gift from her

mom,andinstantlyvanished.Thatleftmestandingaloneinthemiddleoftheburninggymnasiumwhen

the headmaster came charging inwith half the faculty and a couple of policeofficers.

“PercyJackson?”Mr.Bonsaisaid.“What…how…”Over by the broken wall, Tyson groaned and stood up from the pile of

cinderblocks.“Headhurts.”Matt Sloan was coming around, too. He focused on me with a look of

terror. “Percy did it, Mr. Bonsai! He set the whole building on fire. CoachNunleywilltellyou!Hesawitall!”

CoachNunleyhadbeendutifullyreadinghismagazine,butjustmyluck-hechosethatmomenttolookupwhenSloansaidhisname.“Eh?Yeah.Mm-hmm.”

Theother adults turned towardme. Iknew theywouldneverbelieveme,evenifIcouldtellthemthetruth.

I grabbed Riptide out of my ruined jeans, told Tyson, “Come on!” andjumpedthroughthegapingholeinthesideofthebuilding.

THREE

WEHAILTHETAXI

OFETERNALTORMENT

Annabethwaswaiting for us in an alley downChurchStreet. She pulledTyson andme off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamedpast, heading forMeriwetherPrep.

“Where’dyoufindhim?”shedemanded,pointingatTyson.Now, under different circumstances, Iwould’ve been really happy to see

her. We’d made our peace last summer, despite the fact that her mom wasAthenaanddidn’tgetalongwithmydad. I’dmissedAnnabethprobablymorethanIwantedtoadmit.

ButI’djustbeenattackedbycannibalgiants,Tysonhadsavedmylifethreeor four times, and all Annabeth could do was glare at him like he was theproblem.

“He’smyfriend,”Itoldher.“Ishehomeless?”“What does that have to dowith anything?He can hear you, you know.

Whydon’tyouaskhim?”Shelookedsurprised.“Hecantalk?”“Italk,”Tysonadmitted.“Youarepretty.”“Ah!Gross!”Annabethsteppedawayfromhim.Icouldn’tbelieveshewasbeingsorude.IexaminedTyson’shands,whichI

was sure must’ve been badly scorched by the flaming dodge balls, but theylookedfine-grimyandscarred,withdirtyfingernailsthesizeofpotatochips-butthey always looked like that. “Tyson,” I said in disbelief. “Your hands aren’tevenburned.”

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

TysonseemedfascinatedbyAnnabeth’sblondhair.Hetriedtotouchit,butshesmackedhishandaway.

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

wholiveinthefarnorth.Odysseusranintothemonce,butI’veneverseenthemasfarsouthasNewYorkbefore.”

“Laistry-Ican’tevensaythat.WhatwouldyoucalltheminEnglish?”Shethoughtaboutitforamoment.“Canadians,”shedecided.“Nowcome

on,wehavetogetoutofhere.”“Thepolice’llbeafterme.”

“That’s the least of our problems,” she said. “Have you been having thedreams?”

“Thedreams…aboutGrover?”Herfaceturnedpale.“Grover?No,whataboutGrover?”Itoldhermydream.“Why?Whatwereyoudreamingabout?”Hereyeslookedstormy,likehermindwasracingamillionmilesanhour.“Camp,”shesaidatlast.“Bigtroubleatcamp.”“Mymomwassayingthesamething!Butwhatkindoftrouble?”“Idon’tknowexactly.Something’swrong.Wehavetogetthererightaway.

Monsters have been chasingme all theway fromVirginia, trying to stopme.Haveyouhadalotofattacks?”

Ishookmyhead.“Noneallyear…untiltoday.”“None?Buthow…”HereyesdriftedtoTyson.“Oh.”“Whatdoyoumean,‘oh’?”Tyson raised his hand like he was still in class. “Canadians in the gym

calledPercysomething…SonoftheSeaGod?”AnnabethandIexchangedlooks.Ididn’tknowhowIcouldexplain,but I figuredTysondeserved the truth

afteralmostgettingkilled.“Bigguy,” I said,“youeverhear thoseoldstoriesabout theGreekgods?

LikeZeus,Poseidon,Athena-““Yes,”Tysonsaid.“Well…thosegodsarestillalive.TheykindoffollowWesternCivilization

around, living in the strongest countries, so like now they’re in theU.S.Andsometimestheyhavekidswithmortals.Kidscalledhalf-bloods.”

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

in-training. And whenever monsters pick up our scent, they attack us. That’swhatthosegiantswereinthegym.Monsters.”

“Yes.”Istaredathim.Hedidn’tseemsurprisedorconfusedbywhatIwastelling

him,whichsurprisedandconfusedme.“So…youbelieveme?”Tysonnodded.“Butyouare…SonoftheSeaGod?”“Yeah,”Iadmitted.“MydadisPoseidon.”Tysonfrowned.Nowhelookedconfused.“Butthen…”Asirenwailed.Apolicecarracedpastouralley.“Wedon’thavetimeforthis,”Annabethsaid.“We’lltalkinthetaxi.”“Ataxiallthewaytocamp?”Isaid.“Youknowhowmuchmoney-““Trustme.”

Ihesitated.“WhataboutTyson?”I imaginedescortingmygiantfriendintoCampHalf-Blood.Ifhefreaked

outonaregularplaygroundwithregularbullies,howwouldheactatatrainingcampfordemigods?Ontheotherhand,thecopswouldbelookingforus.

“Wecan’tjustleavehim,”Idecided.“He’llbeintrouble,too.”*“Yeah.”Annabethlookedgrim.“Wedefinitelyneedtotakehim.Nowcome

on.”Ididn’tlikethewayshesaidthat,asifTysonwereabigdiseaseweneeded

togettothehospital,butIfollowedherdownthealley.Togetherthethreeofussneaked through the side streets of downtownwhile a huge column of smokebillowedupbehindusfrommyschoolgymnasium.

*“Here.”Annabeth stopped us on the corner of Thomas andTrimble. She

fishedaroundinherbackpack.“IhopeIhaveoneleft.”She lookedevenworse than I’d realizedat first.Herchinwascut.Twigs

and grass were tangled in her ponytail, as if she’d slept several nights in theopen.Theslashesonthehemsofherjeanslookedsuspiciouslylikeclawmarks.

“Whatareyoulookingfor?”Iasked.Allaroundus,sirenswailed.Ifigureditwouldn’tbelongbeforemorecops

cruisedby,lookingforjuveniledelinquentgym-bombers.NodoubtMattSloanhadgiventhemastatementbynow.He’dprobablytwistedthestoryaroundsothatTysonandIwerethebloodthirstycannibals.

“Found one. Thank the gods.” Annabeth pulled out a gold coin that Irecognizedasadrachma,thecurrencyofMountOlympus.IthadZeus’slikenessstampedononesideandtheEmpireStateBuildingontheother.

“Annabeth,”Isaid,“NewYorktaxidriverswon’ttakethat.”“Stêthi,”sheshoutedinAncientGreek.“Ôhármadiabolês!”Asusual, themoment shespoke in the languageofOlympus, I somehow

understoodit.She’dsaid:Stop,ChariotofDamnation!Thatdidn’texactlymakemefeelrealexcitedaboutwhateverherplanwas.She threwhercoin into thestreet,but insteadofclatteringon theasphalt,

thedrachmasankrightthroughanddisappeared.Foramoment,nothinghappened.Then,justwherethecoinhadfallen,theasphaltdarkened.Itmeltedintoa

rectangularpoolaboutthesizeofaparkingspace-bubblingredliquidlikeblood.Thenacareruptedfromtheooze.

Itwasa taxi,all right,butunlikeeveryother taxi inNewYork, itwasn’tyellow.Itwassmokygray.Imeanitlookedlikeitwaswovenoutofsmoke,likeyou could walk right through it. There were words printed on the door-

somethinglikeGYARSSIRES-butmydyslexiamadeithardformetodecipherwhatitsaid.

Thepassengerwindowrolleddown,andanoldwomanstuckherheadout.She had a mop of grizzled hair covering her eyes, and she spoke in a weirdmumblingway,likeshe’djusthadashotofNovocain.“Passage?Passage?”

“Three to CampHalf-Blood,”Annabeth said. She opened the cab’s backdoorandwavedatmetogetin,likethiswasallcompletelynormal.

“Ach!”theoldwomanscreeched.“Wedon’ttakehiskind!”ShepointedabonyfingeratTyson.Whatwasit?Pick-on-Big-and-Ugly-KidsDay?“Extrapay,”Annabethpromised.“Threemoredrachmaonarrival.”“Done!”thewomanscreamed.Reluctantly I got in the cab. Tyson squeezed in the middle. Annabeth

crawledinlast.The interiorwas also smoky gray, but it felt solid enough. The seatwas

crackedandlumpy-nodifferentthanmosttaxis.TherewasnoPlexiglasscreenseparatingusfromtheoldladydriving…Waitaminute.Therewasn’tjustoneoldlady.Therewerethree,allcrammedinthefrontseat,eachwithstringyhaircoveringhereyes,bonyhands,andacharcoal-coloredsackclothdress.

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

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

Ilookeddownandfoundalargeblackchaininsteadofaseatbelt.IdecidedIwasn’tthatdesperate…yet.

ThecabspedaroundthecornerofWestBroadway,andthegrayladysittinginthemiddlescreeched,“Lookout!Goleft!”

“Well, if you’d give me the eye, Tempest, I could see that!” the drivercomplained.

Waitaminute.Givehertheeye?Ididn’thavetimetoaskquestionsbecausethedriverswervedtoavoidan

oncomingdeliverytruck,ranoverthecurbwithajaw-rattlingthump,andflewintothenextblock.

“Wasp!”thethirdladysaidtothedriver.“Givemethegirl’scoin!Iwanttobiteit.”

“You bit it last time,Anger!” said the driver, whose namemust’ve beenWasp.“It’smyturn!”

“Isnot!”yelledtheonecalledAnger.

Themiddleone,Tempest,screamed,“Redlight!”“Brake!”yelledAnger.Instead,Waspfloored theacceleratorandrodeupon thecurb, screeching

aroundanothercorner,andknockingoveranewspaperbox.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’dseenTysongetcarsickonschoolfieldtrips

anditwasnotsomethingyouwantedtobewithinfiftyfeetof.“Hanginthere,bigguy.Anybodygotagarbagebagorsomething?”

Thethreegrayladiesweretoobusysquabblingtopaymeanyattention.Ilooked over atAnnabeth,whowas hanging on for dear life, and I gave her awhy-did-you-do-this-to-melook.

“Hey,”shesaid,“GraySistersTaxiisthefastestwaytocamp.”“Thenwhydidn’tyoutakeitfromVirginia?”“That’s outside their service area,” she said, like that should be obvious.

“TheyonlyserveGreaterNewYorkandsurroundingcommunities.”“We’ve had famous people in this cab!” Anger exclaimed. “Jason! You

rememberhim?”“Don’t remindme!”Waspwailed. “Andwedidn’t have a cabback then,

youoldbat.Thatwasthreethousandyearsago!”“Give me the tooth!” Anger tried to grab at Wasp’s mouth, but Wasp

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

the door. She punched the gas and we shot up the Williamsburg Bridge atseventymilesanhour.

Thethreesisterswerefightingforrealnow,slappingeachotherasAngertriedtograbatWasp’sfaceandWasptriedtograbatTempest’s.Withtheirhairflyingandtheirmouthsopen,screamingateachother,IrealizedthatnoneofthesistershadanyteethexceptforWasp,whohadonemossyyellowincisor.Insteadof eyes, they just had closed, sunken eyelids, except forAnger,who had onebloodshot green eye that stared at everything hungrily, as if it couldn’t getenoughofanythingitsaw.

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

Tysongroanedandclutchedhisstomach.“Uh,ifanybody’sinterested,”Isaid,“we’regoingtodie!”“Don’t worry,” Annabeth told me, sounding pretty worried. “The Gray

Sistersknowwhatthey’redoing.They’rereallyverywise.”ThiscomingfromthedaughterofAthena,but Iwasn’texactly reassured.

Wewereskimmingalongtheedgeofabridgeahundredand thirtyfeetabovetheEastRiver.

“Yes,wise!”Angergrinnedintherearviewmirror,showingoffhernewlyacquiredtooth.“Weknowthings!”

“Every street inManhattan!”Wasp bragged, still hitting her sister. “ThecapitalofNepal!”

“Thelocationyouseek!”Tempestadded.Immediately her sisters pummeled her from either side, screaming, “Be

quiet!Bequiet!Hedidn’tevenaskyet!”“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.Therewasasickeningpopand

somethingflewoutofAnger’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!”The taxi slammedagainst theguardrail and skiddedalongwithahorrible

grinding noise. The whole car shuddered, billowing gray smoke as if it wereabouttodissolvefromthestrain.

“Goingtobesick!”Tysonwarned.“Annabeth,”Iyelled,“letTysonuseyourbackpack!”“Areyoucrazy?Gettheeye!”Wasp yanked the wheel, and the taxi swerved away from the rail. We

hurtleddownthebridgetowardBrooklyn,goingfasterthananyhumantaxi.TheGraySistersscreechedandpummeledeachotherandcriedoutfortheireye.

At last I steeledmy nerves. I ripped off a chunk ofmy tie-dyed T-shirt,whichwasalreadyfallingapartfromalltheburnmarks,andusedittopicktheeyeballoffthefloor.

“Niceboy!”Angercried,asifshesomehowknewIhadhermissingpeeper.“Giveitback!”

“Not until you explain,” I told her. “What were you talking about, thelocationIseek?”

“Notime!”Tempestcried.“Accelerating!”I looked out the window. Sure enough, trees and cars and whole

neighborhoods were now zipping by in a gray blur. We were already out ofBrooklyn,headingthroughthemiddleofLongIsland.

“Percy,”Annabethwarned,“theycan’tfindourdestinationwithouttheeye.We’lljustkeepacceleratinguntilwebreakintoamillionpieces.”

“Firsttheyhavetotellme,”Isaid.“OrI’llopenthewindowandthrowtheeyeintooncomingtraffic.”

“No!”theGraySisterswailed.“Toodangerous!”“I’mrollingdownthewindow.”“Wait!”theGraySistersscreamed.“30,31,75,12!”Theybelteditoutlikeaquarterbackcallingaplay.“Whatdoyoumean?”Isaid.“Thatmakesnosense!”“30,31,75,12!”Angerwailed.“That’sallwecantellyou.Nowgiveusthe

eye!Almosttocamp!”Wewereoffthehighwaynow,zippingthroughthecountrysideofnorthern

LongIsland.IcouldseeHalf-BloodHillaheadofus,withitsgiantpinetreeatthecrest-Thalia’stree,whichcontainedthelifeforceorafallenhero.

“Percy!”Annabethsaidmoreurgently.“Givethemtheeyenow!”Idecidednottoargue.IthrewtheeyeintoWasp’slap.Theold lady snatched it up, pushed it intoher eye socket like somebody

puttinginacontactlens,andblinked.“Whoa!”Sheslammedonthebrakes.Thetaxispunfourorfivetimesinacloudof

smokeandsquealedtoahaltinthemiddleofthefarmroadatthebaseofHalf-BloodHill.

Tysonletlooseahugebelch.“Betternow.”“All right,” I told the Gray Sisters. “Now tell me what those numbers

mean.”“Notime!”Annabethopenedherdoor.“Wehavetogetoutnow.”I was about to ask why, when I looked up at Half-Blood Hill and

understood.Atthecrestofthehillwasagroupofcampers.Andtheywereunderattack.

FOUR

TYSONPLAYS

WITHFIRE

Mythologicallyspeaking, if there’sanythingIhateworsethantriosofoldladies,it’sbulls.Lastsummer,IfoughttheMinotaurontopofHalf-BloodHill.ThistimewhatIsawuptherewasevenworse:twobulls.Andnotjustregularbulls-bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn’t bad enough.Naturallytheyhadtobreathefire,too.

Assoonasweexitedthetaxi,theGraySisterspeeledout,headingbacktoNew York, where life was safer. They didn’t even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left us on the side of the road, Annabeth withnothingbutherbackpackandknife,Tysonandmestillinourburned-uptie-dyedgymclothes.

“Oh,man,”saidAnnabeth,lookingatthebattleragingonthehill.Whatworriedmemostweren’t thebulls themselves.Or the tenheroes in

full battle armorwhoweregetting their bronze-platedbootieswhooped.Whatworriedmewas that the bullswere ranging all over the hill, even around thebacksideofthepinetree.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.Shewasoneofthebiggestbulliesatcamp.Thefirsttimewe’dmetshetriedtointroducemyheadtoatoilet.ShewasalsoadaughterofAres,andI’dhadaveryseriousdisagreementwithher father last summer, sonow thegodofwarandallhischildrenbasicallyhatedmyguts.

Still, shewas in trouble. Her fellowwarriorswere scattering, running inpanicas thebulls charged.Thegrasswasburning inhuge swathesaround thepine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, thehorsehair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse’s ownarmorwas charred. Shewas fightingwith a broken spear shaft, the other endembeddeduselesslyinthemetaljointofonebull’sshoulder.

I uncappedmy ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer and heavieruntil I held the bronze sword Anaklusmos in my hands. “Tyson, stay here. Idon’twantyoutakinganymorechances.”

“No!”Annabethsaid.“Weneedhim.”I stared at her. “He’s mortal. He got lucky with the dodge balls but he

can’t-““Percy,doyouknowwhatthoseareupthere?TheColchisbulls,madeby

Hephaestus himself. We can’t fight them without Medea’s Sunscreen SPF50,000.We’llgetburnedtoacrisp.”

“Medea’swhat?”Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. “I had a jar of

tropicalcoconutscentsittingonmynightstandathome.Whydidn’tIbringit?”I’dlearnedalongtimeagonottoquestionAnnabethtoomuch.Itjustmade

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

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

whowasyellingatherpatrol,tryingtogetthemintophalanxformation.Itwasagood idea. The fewwhowere listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, lockingtheirshieldstoformanox-hide-and-bronzewall, theirspearsbristlingoverthetoplikeporcupinequills.

Unfortunately,Clarissecouldonlymustersixcampers.Theotherfourwerestillrunningaroundwiththeirhelmetsonfire.Annabethrantowardthem,tryingto help. She taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible,completelyconfusingthemonster.TheotherbullchargedClarisse’sline.

Iwas halfway up the hill-not close enough to help. Clarisse hadn’t evenseenmeyet.

Thebullmoveddeadlyfastforsomethingsobig.Itsmetalhidegleamedinthesun. Ithad fist-sized rubies foreyes,andhornsofpolishedsilver.When itopeneditshingedmouth,acolumnofwhite-hotflameblastedout.

“Holdtheline!”Clarisseorderedherwarriors.WhateverelseyoucouldsayaboutClarisse,shewasbrave.Shewasabig

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

Unfortunately, at that moment, the other bull lost interest in findingAnnabeth.Itturned,wheelingaroundbehindClarisseonherunprotectedside.

“Behindyou!”Iyelled.“Lookout!”I shouldn’t have said anything, because all I did was startle her. Bull

NumberOnecrashedintohershield,andthephalanxbroke.Clarissewentflyingbackwardandlandedinasmolderingpatchofgrass.Thebullchargedpasther,butnotbeforeblastingtheotherheroeswithitsfierybreath.Theirshieldsmelted

rightoff theirarms.TheydroppedtheirweaponsandranasBullNumberTwoclosedinonClarisseforthekill.

IlungedforwardandgrabbedClarissebythestrapsofherarmor.IdraggedheroutofthewayjustasBullNumberTwofreight-trainedpast.IgaveitagoodswipewithRiptideandcutahugegashinitsflank,butthemonsterjustcreakedandgroanedandkeptongoing.

It hadn’t touchedme,but I could feel theheatof itsmetal skin. Its bodytemperaturecould’vemicrowavedafrozenburrito.

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

wereontheinsideslopeofthehillnow,thevalleyofCampHalf-Blooddirectlybelowus-thecabins,thetrainingfacilities,theBigHouse-allofitatriskifthesebullsgotpastus.

Annabethshoutedorderstotheotherheroes,tellingthemtospreadoutandkeepthebullsdistracted.

BullNumberOne ran awide arc,making itswayback towardme.As itpassedthemiddleofthehill,wheretheinvisibleboundarylineshould’vekeptitout, it sloweddowna little, as if itwere strugglingagainst a strongwind;butthenitbrokethroughandkeptcoming.BullNumberTwoturnedtofaceme,firesputteringfromthegashI’dcutinitsside.Icouldn’ttellifitfeltanypain,butitsrubyeyesseemedtoglareatmelikeI’djustmadethingspersonal.

I couldn’t fight both bulls at the same time. I’d have to take down BullNumberTwofirst,cut itsheadoffbeforeBullNumberOnechargedback intorange. My arms already felt tired. I realized how long it had been since I’dworkedoutwithRiptide,howoutofpracticeIwas.

IlungedbutBullNumberTwoblewflamesatme.Irolledasideastheairturnedtopureheat.Alltheoxygenwassuckedoutofmylungs.Myfootcaughtonsomething-atreeroot,maybe-andpainshotupmyankle.Still,Imanagedtoslashwithmyswordandlopoffpartof themonster’ssnout. Itgallopedaway,wildanddisoriented.ButbeforeIcouldfeeltoogoodaboutthat,Itriedtostand,andmyleftlegbuckledunderneathme.Myanklewassprained,maybebroken.

BullNumberOnechargedstraighttowardme.NowaycouldIcrawloutofitspath.

Annabethshouted:“Tyson,helphim!”Somewhere near, toward the crest of the hill, Tyson wailed, “Can’t-get-

through!”“I,AnnabethChase,giveyoupermissiontoentercamp!”Thunder shook the hillside. Suddenly Tyson was there, barreling toward

me,yelling:“Percyneedshelp!”

Before I could tell him no, he dove between me and the bull just as itunleashedanuclearfirestorm.

“Tyson!”Iyelled.Theblastswirledaroundhimlikearedtornado.Icouldonlyseetheblack

silhouetteofhisbody.Iknewwithhorriblecertaintythatmyfriendhadjustbeenturnedintoacolumnofashes.

But when the fire died, Tyson was still standing there, completelyunharmed.Notevenhisgrungyclotheswerescorched.Thebullmust’vebeenassurprisedasIwas,becausebeforeitcouldunleashasecondblast,Tysonballedhisfistsandslammedthemintothebull’sface.“BADCOW!”

Hisfistsmadeacraterwherethebronzebull’ssnoutusedtobe.Twosmallcolumnsofflameshotoutofitsears.Tysonhititagain,andthebronzecrumpledunder his hands like aluminum foil. The bull’s face now looked like a sockpuppetpulledinsideout.

“Down!”Tysonyelled.The bull staggered and fell on its back. Its legsmoved feebly in the air,

steamcomingoutofitsruinedheadinoddplaces.Annabethranovertocheckonme.Myanklefeltlikeitwasfilledwithacid,butshegavemesomeOlympian

nectartodrinkfromhercanteen,andIimmediatelystartedtofeelbetter.TherewasaburningsmellthatIlaterlearnedwasme.Thehaironmyarmshadbeencompletelysingedoff.

“Theotherbull?”Iasked.Annabeth pointed down the hill. Clarisse had taken care of Bad Cow

Number Two. She’d impaled it through the back leg with a celestial bronzespear.Now,withitssnouthalfgoneandahugegashinitsside,itwastryingtoruninslowmotion,goingincircleslikesomekindofmerry-go-roundanimal.

Clarisse pulled off her helmet and marched toward us. A strand of herstringy brown hair was smoldering, but she didn’t seem to notice. “You-ruin-everything!”sheyelledatme.“Ihaditundercontrol!”

Iwas too stunned to answer.Annabeth grumbled, “Good to see you too,Clarisse.”

“Argh!”Clarissescreamed.“Don’tever,EVERtrysavingmeagain!”“Clarisse,”Annabethsaid,“you’vegotwoundedcampers.”That sobered her up. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her

command.“I’llbeback,”shegrowled,thentrudgedofftoassessthedamage.IstaredatTyson.“Youdidn’tdie.”Tyson lookeddown like hewas embarrassed. “I am sorry.Came to help.

Disobeyedyou.”“Myfault,”Annabeth said.“Ihadnochoice. Ihad to letTysoncross the

boundarylinetosaveyou.Otherwise,youwould’vedied.”“Lethimcrosstheboundaryline?’”Iasked.“But-““Percy,”shesaid,“haveyoueverlookedatTysonclosely?Imean…inthe

face.IgnoretheMist,andreallylookathim.”TheMistmakeshumansseeonlywhattheirbrainscanprocess…Iknewit

couldfooldemigodstoo,but…I lookedTyson in the face. Itwasn’teasy. I’dalwayshad trouble looking

directlyathim, thoughI’dneverquiteunderstoodwhy. I’d thought itwas justbecause he always had peanut butter in his crooked teeth. I forcedmyself tofocusathisbiglumpynose,thenalittlehigherathiseyes.

No,noteyes.One eye. One large, calf-brown eye, right in themiddle of his forehead,

withthicklashesandbigtearstricklingdownhischeeksoneitherside.“Tyson,”Istammered.“You’rea…”“Cyclops,”Annabethoffered.“Ababy,bythelooksofhim.Probablywhy

hecouldn’tgetpasttheboundarylineaseasilyasthebulls.Tyson’soneofthehomelessorphans.”

“Oneofthewhat?”“They’reinalmostallthebigcities,”Annabethsaiddistastefully.“They’re

… mistakes, Percy. Children of nature spirits and gods…Well, one god inparticular,usually…andtheydon’talwayscomeoutright.Noonewantsthem.Theygettossedaside.Theygrowupwildonthestreets.Idon’tknowhowthisone foundyou,butheobviously likesyou.We should takehim toChiron, lethimdecidewhattodo.”

“Butthefire.How-““He’saCyclops.”Annabethpaused,asifshewererememberingsomething

unpleasant.“Theyworktheforgesofthegods.Theyhavetobeimmunetofire.That’swhatIwastryingtotellyou.”

Iwascompletelyshocked.HowhadIneverrealizedwhatTysonwas?ButIdidn’thavemuchtimetothinkaboutit justthen.Thewholesideof

thehillwasburning.Woundedheroesneededattention.Andtherewerestilltwobanged-up bronze bulls to dispose of, which I didn’t figure would fit in ournormalrecyclingbins.

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

“Tantalus?”Iasked.

“Theactivitiesdirector,”Clarissesaidimpatiently.“Chironistheactivitiesdirector.Andwhere’sArgus?He’sheadofsecurity.

Heshouldbehere.”Clarissemadeasour face.“Argusgot fired.You twohavebeengone too

long.Thingsarechanging.”“ButChiron…He’strainedkidstofightmonstersforoverthreethousand

years.Hecan’tjustbegone.Whathappened?”“Thathappened,”Clarissesnapped.ShepointedtoThalia’stree.Every camper knew the story behind the tree. Six years ago, Grover,

Annabeth,andtwootherdemigodsnamedThaliaandLukehadcometoCampHalf-Bloodchasedbyanarmyofmonsters.Whentheygotcorneredon topofthis hill, Thalia, a daughter ofZeus, hadmade her last stand here to give herfriendstimetoreachsafety.Asshewasdying,herfather,Zeus,tookpityonherandchangedherintoapinetree.Herspirithadreinforcedthemagicbordersofthecamp,protectingitfrommonsters.Thepinehadbeenhereeversince,strongandhealthy.

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

Asliveroficeranthroughmychest.NowIunderstoodwhythecampwasindanger.ThemagicalborderswerefailingbecauseThalia’streewasdying.

Someonehadpoisonedit.

FIVE

IGETANEW

CABINMATE

Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpfulperson(hi,Mom)hastriedto“clean”it,andsuddenlyyoucan’tfindanything?Andevenifnothingismissing,yougetthatcreepyfeelinglikesomebody’sbeenlookingthroughyourprivatestuffanddustingeverythingwith lemonfurniturepolish?

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

therewithitsbluegabledroofanditswraparoundporch.Thestrawberryfieldsstillbakedinthesun.Thesamewhite-columnedGreekbuildingswerescatteredaround the valley-the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilionoverlookingLongIslandSound.Andnestledbetweenthewoodsandthecreekwerethesamecabins-acrazyassortmentoftwelvebuildings,eachrepresentingadifferentOlympiangod.

Buttherewasanairofdangernow.Youcouldtellsomethingwaswrong.Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs werestockpilingweaponsinthetoolshed.Dryadsarmedwithbowsandarrowstalkednervously at the edge of thewoods.The forest looked sickly, the grass in themeadowwaspaleyellow,andthefiremarksonHalf-BloodHillstoodoutlikeuglyscars.

Somebodyhadmessedwithmyfavoriteplaceintheworld,andIwasnot…well,ahappycamper.

AswemadeourwaytotheBigHouse,Irecognizedalotofkidsfromlastsummer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, “Welcome back.” Some diddoubletakeswhentheysawTyson,butmostjustwalkedgrimlypastandcarriedonwiththeirduties-runningmessages,totingswordstosharpenonthegrindingwheels.Thecampfeltlikeamilitaryschool.Andbelieveme,Iknow.I’vebeenkickedoutofacouple.

NoneofthatmatteredtoTyson.Hewasabsolutelyfascinatedbyeverythinghesaw.“Whasthat!”hegasped.

“Thestablesforpegasi,”Isaid.“Thewingedhorses.”“Whasthat!”“Um…thosearethetoilets.”“Whasthat!”“Thecabinsforthecampers.Iftheydon’tknowwhoyourOlympianparent

is, they put you in the Hermes cabin-that brown one over there-until you’re

determined.Then,oncetheyknow,theyputyouinyourdadormom’sgroup.”Helookedatmeinawe.“You…haveacabin?”“Numberthree.”Ipointedtoalowgraybuildingmadeofseastone.“Youlivewithfriendsinthecabin?”“No.No, justme.” Ididn’t feel likeexplaining.Theembarrassing truth: I

wastheonlyonewhostayedinthatcabinbecauseIwasn’tsupposedtobealive.The“BigThree”gods-Zeus,Poseidon,andHades-hadmadeapactafterWorldWarIInottohaveanymorechildrenwithmortals.Weweremorepowerfulthanregularhalf-bloods.Weweretoounpredictable.Whenwegotmadwetendedtocause problems… likeWorldWar II, for instance.The “BigThree” pact hadonlybeenbrokentwice-oncewhenZeussiredThalia,oncewhenPoseidonsiredme.Neitherofusshould’vebeenborn.

Thaliahadgottenherselfturnedintoapinetreewhenshewastwelve.Me…well,Iwasdoingmybestnottofollowherexample.IhadnightmaresaboutwhatPoseidonmightturnmeintoifIwereeveronthevergeofdeath-plankton,maybe.Orafloatingpatchofkelp.

WhenwegottotheBigHouse,wefoundChironinhisapartment,listeningto his favorite 1960s loungemusicwhile he packed his saddlebags. I guess Ishouldmention-Chiron is a centaur.From thewaist uphe looks like a regularmiddle-aged guywith curly brown hair and a scraggly beard. From thewaistdown,he’sawhitestallion.Hecanpassforhumanbycompactinghislowerhalfinto amagicwheelchair. In fact, he’d passed himself off asmy Latin teacherduringmysixth-gradeyear.Butmostofthetime,iftheceilingsarehighenough,heprefershangingoutinfullcentaurform.

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

…leaving?”Hervoicewasshaky.Chironwaslikeasecondfathertoher.Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile. “Hello, child. And

Percy,mygoodness.You’vegrownovertheyear!”Iswallowed.“Clarissesaidyouwere…youwere…”“Fired.”Chiron’seyesglintedwithdarkhumor.“Ah,well,someonehadto

taketheblame.LordZeuswasmostupset.Thetreehe’dcreatedfromthespiritofhisdaughter,poisoned!Mr.Dhadtopunishsomeone.”

“Besides himself, you mean,” I growled. Just the thought of the campdirector,Mr.D,mademeangry.

“But this is crazy!” Annabeth cried. “Chiron, you couldn’t have hadanythingtodowithpoisoningThalia’stree!”

“Nevertheless,” Chiron sighed, “some in Olympus do not trust me now,

underthecircumstances.”“Whatcircumstances?”Iasked.Chiron’s face darkened. He stuffed a Latin-English dictionary into his

saddlebagwhiletheFrankSinatramusicoozedfromhisboombox.Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he

wantedtopatChiron’sflankbutwasafraidtocomecloser.“Pony?”Chironsniffed.“MydearyoungCyclops!Iamacentaur.”“Chiron,”Isaid.“Whataboutthetree?Whathappened?”Heshookhisheadsadly.“ThepoisonusedonThalia’spine is something

fromtheUnderworld,Percy.SomevenomevenIhaveneverseen.ItmusthavecomefromamonsterquitedeepinthepitsofTartarus.”

“Thenweknowwho’sresponsible.Kro-““Donotinvokethetitanlord’sname,Percy.Especiallynothere,notnow.”“ButlastsummerhetriedtocauseacivilwarinOlympus!Thishastobe

hisidea.He’dgetLuketodoit,thattraitor.”“Perhaps,”Chironsaid.“But I fear IambeingheldresponsiblebecauseI

didnotpreventitandIcannotcureit.Thetreehasonlyafewweeksoflifeleftunless…”

“Unlesswhat?”Annabethasked.“No,” Chiron said. “A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the

shockof thepoison.Themagical borders are deteriorating.The camp itself isdying.Onlyonesourceofmagicwouldbestrongenoughtoreversethepoison,anditwaslostcenturiesago.”

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

Thenheturnedandrestedhishandonmyshoulder, lookingmestraight in theeyes. “Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told yourmother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It’s much toodangerous.Butnowthatyouarehere,stayhere.Trainhard.Learntofight.Butdonotleave.”

“Why?”Iasked.“Iwant todosomething!Ican’t just let thebordersfail.Thewholecampwillbe-“

“Overrunbymonsters,”Chironsaid.“Yes,Ifearso.Butyoumustnot letyourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord.Rememberlastsummer!Healmosttookyourlife.”

It was true, but still, I wanted to help so badly. I also wanted to makeKronospay.Imean,you’dthinkthetitanlordwould’velearnedhislessoneonsagowhenhewasoverthrownby thegods.You’d thinkgettingchopped intoamillionpiecesandcastintothedarkestpartoftheUnderworldwouldgivehima

subtlecluethatnobodywantedhimaround.Butno.Becausehewasimmortal,hewasstillalivedownthereinTartarus-sufferingineternalpain,hungeringtoreturn and take revenge onOlympus.He couldn’t act on his own, but hewasgreatattwistingthemindsofmortalsandevengodstodohisdirtywork.

Thepoisoninghadtobehisdoing.WhoelsewouldbesolowastoattackThalia’s tree, the only thing left of a hero who’d given her life to save herfriends?

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

“I-Iwill.”“Um…”Isaid.“Wouldthisbethesuper-dangerousprophecythathasme

init,butthegodshaveforbiddenyoutotellmeabout?”Nobodyanswered.“Right,”Imuttered.“Justchecking.”“Chiron…”Annabethsaid.“Youtoldmethegodsmadeyouimmortalonly

solongasyouwereneededtotrainheroes.Iftheydismissyoufromcamp-““Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger,” he insisted.

“SwearupontheRiverStyx.”“I-IswearitupontheRiverStyx,”Annabethsaid.Thunderrumbledoutside.“Very well,” Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. “Perhaps my

namewillbeclearedandIshallreturn.Untilthen,IgotovisitmywildkinsmenintheEverglades.It’spossibletheyknowofsomecureforthepoisonedtreethatIhaveforgotten.Inanyevent,Iwillstayinexileuntilthismatterisresolved…onewayoranother.”

Annabethstifledasob.Chironpattedhershoulderawkwardly.“There,now,child. Imust entrust your safety toMr.D and the new activities director.Wemusthope…well, perhaps theywon’tdestroy the campquite asquickly as Ifear.”

“WhoisthisTantalusguy,anyway?”Idemanded.“Wheredoeshegetofftakingyourjob?”

Aconchhornblewacross thevalley. Ihadn’t realizedhow late itwas. Itwastimeforthecamperstoassemblefordinner.

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

Withthat,hecloppedoutoftheapartmentanddownthehall,Tysoncalling

afterhim,“Pony!Don’tgo!”I realized I’d forgotten to tellChiron aboutmy dreamofGrover.Now it

wastoolate.ThebestteacherI’deverhadwasgone,maybeforgood.TysonstartedbawlingalmostasbadasAnnabeth. I tried to tell themthat

thingswouldbeokay,butIdidn’tbelieveit.The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as the campers came up

fromtheircabins.Westoodintheshadowofamarblecolumnandwatchedthemfile in.Annabethwas still pretty shakenup,but shepromised she’d talk touslater.ThenshewentofftojoinhersiblingsfromtheAthenacabin-adozenboysandgirlswithblondhairandgrayeyeslikehers.Annabethwasn’ttheoldest,butshe’dbeenatcampmoresummersthanjustaboutanybody.Youcouldtellthatbylookingathercampnecklace-onebeadforeverysummer,andAnnabethhadsix.Noonequestionedherrighttoleadtheline.

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

After the Ares kids came the Hephaestus cabin-six guys led by CharlesBeckendorf,abigfifteen-year-oldAfricanAmericankid.Hehadhandsthesizeof catchers’ mitts and a face that was hard and squinty from looking into ablacksmithsforgeallday.Hewasniceenoughonceyougottoknowhim,butnoone ever called him Charlie or Chuck or Charles. Most just called himBeckendorf.Rumorwashecouldmakeanything.Givehimachunkofmetalandhecouldcreatearazor-sharpswordoraroboticwarriororasingingbirdbathforyourgrandmother’sgarden.Whateveryouwanted.

The other cabins filed in: Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, Dionysus. Naiadscameupfromthecanoelake.Dryadsmeltedoutofthetrees.Fromthemeadowcameadozensatyrs,whoremindedmepainfullyofGrover.

I’dalwayshadasoftspotforthesatyrs.Whentheywereatcamp,theyhadtodoallkindsofoddjobsforMr.D,thedirector,buttheirmostimportantworkwasoutintherealworld.Theywerethecamp’sseekers.Theywentundercoverintoschoolsallover theworld, looking forpotentialhalf-bloodsandescortingthem back to camp. That’s how I’dmetGrover.He had been the first one torecognizeIwasademigod.

After the satyrs filed in to dinner, theHermes cabin brought up the rear.Theywerealwaysthebiggestcabin.Lastsummer,ithadbeenledbyLuke,theguywho’d foughtwithThalia andAnnabethon topofHalf-BloodHill. For awhile,beforePoseidonhadclaimedme, I’d lodged in theHermescabin.Luke

hadbefriendedme…andthenhe’dtriedtokillme.NowtheHermescabinwasledbyTravisandConnorStoll.Theyweren’t

twins,but they looked somuchalike it didn’tmatter. I couldnever rememberwhichonewasolder.Theywerebothtallandskinny,withmopsofbrownhairthat hung in their eyes. They wore orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirtsuntuckedoverbaggyshorts,andtheyhadthoseelfishfeaturesallHermes’skidshad:upturnedeyebrows, sarcastic smiles, agleam in their eyeswhenever theylooked at you-like theywere about to drop a firecracker down your shirt. I’dalwaysthoughtitwasfunnythatthegodofthieveswouldhavekidswiththelastname“Stoll,”buttheonlytimeImentionedit toTravisandConnor, theybothstaredatmeblanklyliketheydidn’tgetthejoke.

Assoonasthelastcampershadfiledin,IledTysonintothemiddleofthepavilion.Conversationsfaltered.Headsturned.“Whoinvitedthat?”somebodyattheApollotablemurmured.

Iglaredintheirdirection,butIcouldn’tfigureoutwho’dspoken.Fromthehead tableafamiliarvoicedrawled,“Well,well, if it isn’tPeter

Johnson.Mymillenniumiscomplete.”Igrittedmyteeth.“PercyJackson…sir.”Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. “Yes.Well, as you young people say these

days:Whatever.”Hewaswearing his usual leopard-patternHawaiian shirt,walking shorts,

andtennisshoeswithblacksocks.Withhispudgybellyandhisblotchyredface,he looked like a Las Vegas tourist who’d stayed up too late in the casinos.Behind him, a nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skins off grapes andhandingthemtoMr.Doneatatime.

Mr. D’s real name is Dionysus. The god of wine. Zeus appointed himdirector ofCampHalf-Blood to dry out for a hundred years-a punishment forchasingsomeoff-limitswoodnymph.

Next to him, where Chiron usually sat (or stood, in centaur form), wassomeoneI’dneverseenbefore-apale,horriblythinmaninathreadbareorangeprisoner’s jumpsuit. The number over his pocket read 0001. He had blueshadowsunderhiseyes,dirty fingernails,andbadlycutgrayhair, likehis lasthaircuthadbeendonewithaweedwhacker.Hestaredatme;hiseyesmademenervous. He looked… fractured. Angry and frustrated and hungry all at thesametime.

“Thisboy,”Dionysustoldhim,“youneedtowatch.Poseidon’schild,youknow.”

“Ah!”theprisonersaid.“Thatone.”HistonemadeitobviousthatheandDionysushadalreadydiscussedmeat

length.“IamTantalus,” theprisonersaid,smilingcoldly.“Onspecialassignment

here until,well, untilmyLordDionysus decides otherwise.And you, PerseusJackson,Idoexpectyoutorefrainfromcausinganymoretrouble.”

“Trouble?”Idemanded.Dionysussnappedhisfingers.Anewspaperappearedonthetable-thefront

page of today’s New York Post, There was my yearbook picture fromMeriwetherPrep.Itwashardformetomakeouttheheadline,butIhadaprettygood guess what it said. Something like: Thirteen-Year-Old Lunatic TorchesGymnasium.

“Yes,trouble,”Tantalussaidwithsatisfaction.“Youcausedplentyofitlastsummer,Iunderstand.”

Iwas toomad to speak.Like itwasmy fault thegodshadalmostgottenintoacivilwar?

A satyr inched forward nervously and set a plate of barbecue in front ofTantalus. The new activities director licked his lips. He looked at his emptygobletandsaid,“Rootbeer.Barq’sspecialstock.1967.”

The glass filled itself with foamy soda. Tantalus stretched out his handhesitantly,asifhewereafraidthegobletwashot.

“Go on, then, old fellow,” Dionysus said, a strange sparkle in his eyes.“Perhapsnowitwillwork.”

Tantalusgrabbedfortheglass,butitscootedawaybeforehecouldtouchit.A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with hisfingers,but thedropsrolledawaylikequicksilverbeforehecould touch them.Hegrowledand turned toward theplateofbarbecue.Hepickedupa forkandtriedtostabapieceofbrisket,buttheplateskittereddownthetableandflewofftheend,straightintothecoalsofthebrazier.

“Blast!”Tantalusmuttered.“Ah, well,” Dionysus said, his voice dripping with false sympathy.

“Perhapsafewmoredays.Believeme,oldchap,workingatthiscampwillbetortureenough.I’msureyouroldcursewillfadeeventually.”

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

“You’re that spirit from theFields ofPunishment,” I said. “Theonewhostands in the lake with the fruit tree hanging over you, but you can’t eat ordrink.”

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

mildlyimpressed.“Whatwasit?”

Tantalus’seyesnarrowed.Behindhim,thesatyrswereshakingtheirheadsvigorously,tryingtowarnme.

“I’ll be watching you, Percy Jackson,” Tantalus said. “I don’t want anyproblemsatmycamp.”

“Yourcamphasproblemsalready…sir.”“Oh, go sit down, Johnson,” Dionysus sighed. “I believe that table over

thereisyours-theonewherenooneelseeverwantstosit.”Myfacewasburning,butIknewbetterthantotalkback.Dionysuswasan

overgrownbrat,buthewasanimmortal,superpowerfulovergrownbrat.Isaid,“Comeon,Tyson.”

“Oh,no,”Tantalussaid.“Themonsterstayshere.Wemustdecidewhattodowithit.”

“Him,”Isnapped.“HisnameisTyson.”Thenewactivitiesdirectorraisedaneyebrow.“Tyson saved the camp,” I insisted. “He pounded those bronze bulls.

Otherwisetheywould’veburneddownthiswholeplace.”“Yes,”Tantalussighed,“andwhatapitythatwould’vebeen.”Dionysussnickered.“Leaveus,”Tantalusordered,“whilewedecidethiscreature’sfate.”Tyson looked at me with fear in his one big eye, but I knew I couldn’t

disobeyadirectorderfromthecampdirectors.Notopenly,anyway.“I’llberightoverhere,bigguy,”Ipromised.“Don’tworry.We’llfindyou

agoodplacetosleeptonight.”Tysonnodded.“Ibelieveyou.Youaremyfriend.”Whichmademefeelawholelotguiltier.I trudgedovertothePoseidontableandslumpedontothebench.Awood

nymphbroughtmeaplateofOlympianolive-and-pepperonipizza,butIwasn’thungry.I’dbeenalmostkilledtwicetoday.I’dmanagedtoendmyschoolyearwith a complete disaster.CampHalf-Bloodwas in serious trouble andChironhadtoldmenottodoanythingaboutit.

Ididn’tfeelverythankful,butItookmydinner,aswascustomary,uptothebronzebrazierandscrapedpartofitintotheflames.

“Poseidon,”Imurmured,“acceptmyoffering.”Andsendmesomehelpwhileyou’reatit,Iprayedsilently.Please.The smoke from the burning pizza changed into something fragrant-the

smellofacleanseabreezewithwild-flowersmixedin-butIhadnoideaifthatmeantmyfatherwasreallylistening.

Iwentbacktomyseat.Ididn’tthinkthingscouldgetmuchworse.ButthenTantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn to get our attention for

announcements.“Yes,well,”Tantalussaid,once the talkinghaddieddown.“Another fine

meal! Or so I am told.” As he spoke, he inched his hand toward his refilleddinnerplate,asifmaybethefoodwouldn’tnoticewhathewasdoing,butitdid.Itshotawaydownthetableassoonashegotwithinsixinches.

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

Dionysus clappedpolitely, leading to somehalfhearted applause from thesatyrs. Tyson was still standing at the head table, looking uncomfortable, buteverytimehetriedtoscootoutofthelimelight,Tantaluspulledhimback.

“Andnowsomechanges!”Tantalusgavethecampersacrookedsmile.“Wearereinstitutingthechariotraces!”

Murmuringbrokeoutatallthetables-excitement,fear,disbelief.“NowIknow,”Tantaluscontinued,raisinghisvoice,“thattheseraceswere

discontinuedsomeyearsagodueto,ah,technicalproblems.”“Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations,” someone at the Apollo table

called.“Yes, yes!” Tantalus said. “But I know that you will all join me in

welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to thewinningcharioteerseachmonth.Teamsmay register in themorning!The firstrace will be held in three days time.Wewill release you frommost of yourregularactivitiestoprepareyourchariotsandchooseyourhorses.Oh,anddidImention,thevictoriousteam’scabinwillhavenochoresforthemonthinwhichtheywin?”

Anexplosionofexcitedconversation-noKPforawholemonth?Nostablecleaning?Washeserious?

ThenthelastpersonIexpectedtoobjectdidso.“But, sir!” Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak

from theAres table. Someof the campers snickeredwhen they saw theYOUMOO,GIRL! sign on her back. “What about patrol duty? Imean, ifwe dropeverythingtoreadyourchariots-“

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

Clarisseblinked,thenblushed.“Um,Ididn’t-““Andmodest, too.” Tantalus grinned. “Not to worry, my dear! This is a

summercamp.Weareheretoenjoyourselves,yes?”“Butthetree-“

“Andnow,”Tantalus said, as severalofClarisse’s cabinmatespulledherbackintoherseat,“beforeweproceedtothecampfireandsing-along,oneslighthousekeepingissue.PercyJacksonandAnnabethChasehaveseenfit,forsomereason,tobringthishere.”TantaluswavedahandtowardTyson.

Uneasymurmuringspreadamongthecampers.Alotofsidewayslooksatme.IwantedtokillTantalus.

“Now, of course,” he said, “Cyclopes have a reputation for beingbloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normalcircumstances, Iwould release this beast into thewoods andhaveyouhunt itdownwithtorchesandpointedsticks.Butwhoknows?PerhapsthisCyclopsisnotashorribleasmostofitsbrethren.Untilitprovesworthyofdestruction,weneed a place to keep it! I’ve thought about the stables, but thatwillmake thehorsesnervous.Hermes’scabin,possibly?”

Silenceat theHermes table.Travis andConnorStoll developeda suddeninterestinthetablecloth.Icouldn’tblamethem.TheHermescabinwasalwaysfulltobursting.Therewasnowaytheycouldtakeinasix-foot-threeCyclops.

“Come now,” Tantalus chided. “The monster may be able to do somemenialchores.Anysuggestionsastowheresuchabeastshouldbekenneled?”

Suddenlyeverybodygasped.TantalusscootedawayfromTysoninsurprise.AllIcoulddowasstarein

disbeliefatthebrilliantgreenlightthatwasabouttochangemylife-adazzlingholographicimagethathadappearedaboveTyson’shead.

Witha sickening twist inmy stomach, I rememberedwhatAnnabethhadsaidaboutCyclopes,They’rethechildrenofnaturespiritsandgods…Well,onegodinparticular,usually…

SwirlingoverTysonwasaglowinggreentrident-thesamesymbolthathadappearedabovemethedayPoseidonhadclaimedmeashisson.

Therewasamomentofawedsilence.Beingclaimedwasa rareevent.Somecamperswaited invain for it their

whole lives.When I’d been claimed by Poseidon last summer, everyone hadreverently knelt. But now, they followed Tantalus’s lead, and Tantalus roaredwithlaughter.“Well!Ithinkweknowwheretoputthebeastnow.Bythegods,Icanseethefamilyresemblance!”

EverybodylaughedexceptAnnabethandafewofmyotherfriends.Tyson didn’t seem to notice. He was too mystified, trying to swat the

glowing trident that was now fading over his head. He was too innocent tounderstandhowmuchtheyweremakingfunofhim,howcruelpeoplewere.

ButIgotit.Ihadanewcabinmate.Ihadamonsterforahalf-brother.

SIX

DEMONPIGEONS

ATTACK

Thenextfewdaysweretorture,justlikeTantaluswanted.FirsttherewasTysonmovingintothePoseidoncabin,gigglingtohimself

everyfifteensecondsandsaying,“Percyismybrother?”likehe’djustwonthelottery.

“Aw,Tyson,”I’dsay.“It’snotthatsimple.”But therewas no explaining it to him.Hewas in heaven.Andme…as

much as I liked the big guy, I couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. Ashamed.There,Isaidit.

My father, the all-powerful Poseidon, had gotten moony-eyed for somenature spirit, andTysonhadbeen the result. Imean, I’d read themyths aboutCyclopes.IevenrememberedthattheywereoftenPoseidon’schildren.ButI’dnever really processed that this made themmy… family. Until I had Tysonlivingwithmeinthenextbunk.

And then there were the comments from the other campers. Suddenly, Iwasn’t Percy Jackson, the cool guywho’d retrieved Zeus’s lightning bolt lastsummer.NowIwasPercyJackson,thepoorschmuckwiththeuglymonsterforabrother.

“He’s not my real brother!” I protested whenever Tyson wasn’t around.“He’smore like a half-brother on themonstrous side of the family.Like…ahalf-brothertwiceremoved,orsomething.”

Nobodyboughtit.Iadmit-Iwasangryatmydad.Ifeltlikebeinghissonwasnowajoke.Annabeth tried tomakeme feelbetter.She suggestedwe teamup for the

chariot race to takeourmindsoffourproblems.Don’tgetmewrong-webothhatedTantalusandwewereworriedsickaboutcamp-butwedidn’tknowwhattodoaboutit.UntilwecouldcomeupwithsomebrilliantplantosaveThalia’stree,wefiguredwemightaswellgoalongwiththeraces.Afterall,Annabeth’smom,Athena,hadinventedthechariot,andmydadhadcreatedhorses.Togetherwewouldownthattrack.

One morning Annabeth and I were sitting by the canoe lake sketchingchariotdesignswhensomejokersfromAphrodite’scabinwalkedbyandaskedmeifIneededtoborrowsomeeyelinerformyeye…“Ohsorry,eyes.”

As they walked away laughing, Annabeth grumbled, “Just ignore them,Percy.Itisn’tyourfaultyouhaveamonsterforabrother.”

“He’snotmybrother!”Isnapped.“Andhe’snotamonster,either!”

Annabethraisedhereyebrows.“Hey,don’tgetmadatme!Andtechnically,heisamonster.”

“Wellyougavehimpermissiontoenterthecamp.”“Becauseitwastheonlywaytosaveyourlife!Imean…I’msorry,Percy,

I didn’t expect Poseidon to claim him. Cyclopes are the most deceitful,treacherous-“

“Heisnot!WhathaveyougotagainstCyclopes,any-way?Annabeth’s ears turned pink. I got the feeling there was something she

wasn’ttellingme-somethingbad.“Justforgetit,”shesaid.“Now,theaxleforthischariot-““You’re treating him like he’s this horrible thing,” I said. “He savedmy

life.”Annabeth threw down her pencil and stood. “Then maybe you should

designachariotwithhim.”“MaybeIshould.”“Fine!”“Fine!”Shestormedoffandleftmefeelingevenworsethanbefore.Thenextcoupleofdays,Itriedtokeepmymindoffmyproblems.SilenaBeauregard,oneofthenicergirlsfromAphrodite’scabin,gaveme

my first riding lesson on a pegasus. She explained that there was only oneimmortalwingedhorsenamedPegasus,whostillwandered free somewhere inthe skies, but over the eons he’d sired a lot of children, none quite so fast orheroic,butallnamedafterthefirstandgreatest.

Beingthesonoftheseagod,Ineverlikedgoingintotheair.Mydadhadthis rivalrywithZeus, so I tried to stayoutof the lordof thesky’sdomainasmuch as possible. But riding awinged horse felt different. It didn’tmakemenearlyasnervousasbeinginanairplane.Maybethatwasbecausemydadhadcreatedhorsesoutofseafoam,sothepegasiweresortof…neutralterritory.Icould understand their thoughts. I wasn’t surprised when my pegasus wentgallopingoverthetreetopsorchasedaflockofseagullsintoacloud.

TheproblemwasthatTysonwantedtoridethe“chickenponies,”too,butthepegasi got skittishwheneverhe approached. I told them telepathically thatTysonwouldn’thurtthem,buttheydidn’tseemtobelieveme.ThatmadeTysoncry.

TheonlypersonatcampwhohadnoproblemwithTysonwasBeckendorffrom the Hephaestus cabin. The blacksmith god had always worked withCyclopesinhisforges,soBeckendorftookTysondowntothearmorytoteachhimmetalworking.Hesaidhe’dhaveTysoncraftingmagicitemslikeamaster

innotime.Afterlunch,IworkedoutinthearenawithApollo’scabin.Swordplayhad

alwaysbeenmystrength.PeoplesaidIwasbetterat it thananycamper in thelasthundredyears,exceptmaybeLuke.PeoplealwayscomparedmetoLuke.

I thrashed theApolloguyseasily. I should’vebeen testingmyselfagainsttheAresandAthenacabins,sincetheyhadthebestswordfighters,butIdidn’tgetalongwithClarisseandhersiblings,andaftermyargumentwithAnnabeth,Ijustdidn’twanttoseeher.

Iwent toarcheryclass, even though Iwas terribleat it, and itwasn’t thesame without Chiron teaching. In arts and crafts, I started a marble bust ofPoseidon,but itstartedlookinglikeSylvesterStallone,soIditchedit. Iscaledtheclimbingwall infull lava-and-earthquakemode.Andintheevenings,Ididborderpatrol.EventhoughTantalushadinsistedweforgettryingtoprotectthecamp,someofthecampershadquietlykeptitup,workingoutascheduleduringourfreetimes.

I sat at the top ofHalf-BloodHill andwatched the dryads come and go,singingtothedyingpinetree.Satyrsbroughttheirreedpipesandplayednaturemagicsongs,andforawhilethepineneedlesseemedtogetfuller.Theflowersonthehillsmelledalittlesweeterandthegrasslookedgreener.Butassoonasthemusicstopped,thesicknesscreptbackintotheair.Thewholehillseemedtobeinfected,dyingfromthepoisonthathadsunkintothetree’sroots.ThelongerIsatthere,theangrierIgot.

Luke had done this. I remembered his sly smile, the dragon-claw scaracrosshisface.He’dpretendedtobemyfriend,andthewholetimehe’dbeenKronos’snumber-oneservant.

Iopened thepalmofmyhand.ThescarLukehadgivenme last summerwasfading,butIcouldstillseeit-awhiteasterisk-shapedwoundwherehispitscorpionhadstungme.

I thoughtaboutwhatLukehad toldme rightbeforehe’d tried tokillme:Good-bye,Percy.ThereisanewGoldenAgecoming.Youwon’tbepartofit.

*Atnight,IhadmoredreamsofGrover.Sometimes,Ijustheardsnatchesof

hisvoice.Once,Iheardhimsay:It’shere.Anothertime:Helikessheep.I thought about telling Annabeth about my dreams, but I would’ve felt

stupid.Imean,Helikessheep?Shewould’vethoughtIwascrazy.Thenightbeforetherace,TysonandIfinishedourchariot.Itwaswicked

cool. Tyson had made the metal parts in the armory’s forges. I’d sanded thewoodandputthecarriagetogether.Itwasblueandwhite,withwavedesignsonthesidesanda tridentpaintedonthefront.Afterall thatwork, itseemedonly

fairthatTysonwouldrideshotgunwithme,thoughIknewthehorseswouldn’tlikeit,andTyson’sextraweightwouldslowusdown.

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

longforhisbed.Whenhepulledupthecovers,hisfeetstuckoutthebottom.“Iamamonster.”

“Don’tsaythat.”“Itisokay.Iwillbeagoodmonster.Thenyouwillnothavetobemad.”Ididn’tknowwhat tosay.Istaredat theceilingandfelt likeIwasdying

slowly,rightalongwithThalia’stree.“It’sjust…Ineverhadahalf-brotherbefore.”Itriedtokeepmyvoicefrom

cracking. “It’s really different forme. And I’mworried about the camp. Andanother friendofmine,Grover…hemightbe in trouble. Ikeepfeeling likeIshouldbedoingsomethingtohelp,butIdon’tknowwhat.”

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

he’stryingtoembarrassme,likehe’stryingtocompareusorsomething,andIdon’tunderstandwhy.”

Iheardadeeprumblingsound.Tysonwassnoring.Isighed.“Goodnight,bigguy.”AndIclosedmyeyes,too.Inmydream,Groverwaswearingaweddingdress.Itdidn’tfithimverywell.Thegownwastoolongandthehemwascaked

with dried mud. The neckline kept falling off his shoulders. A tattered veilcoveredhisface.

Hewasstandinginadankcave,litonlybytorches.Therewasacotinonecornerandanold-fashionedloomintheother,alengthofwhiteclothhalfwovenontheframe.Andhewasstaringrightatme,likeIwasaTVprogramhe’dbeenwaitingfor.“Thankthegods!”heyelped.“Canyouhearme?”

Mydream-selfwas slow to respond. Iwas still lookingaround, taking inthestalactiteceiling,thestenchofsheepandgoats,thegrowlingandgrumblingand bleating sounds that seemed to echo from behind a refrigerator-sizedboulder,whichwasblockingtheroom’sonlyexit,asiftherewereamuchlargercavernbeyondit.

“Percy?” Grover said. “Please, I don’t have the strength to project anybetter.Youhavetohearme!”

“Ihearyou,”Isaid.“Grover,what’sgoingon?”From behind the boulder, amonstrous voice yelled, “Honeypie!Are you

doneyet?”Groverflinched.Hecalledoutinfalsetto,“Notquite,dearest!Afewmore

days!”“Bah!Hasn’titbeentwoweeksyet?”“N-no,dearest.Justfivedays.Thatleavestwelvemoretogo.”The monster was silent, maybe trying to do the math. He must’ve been

worseatarithmeticthanIwas,becausehesaid,“Allright,buthurry!IwanttoSEEEEEunderthatveil,heh-heh-heh.”

Groverturnedbacktome.“Youhavetohelpme!Notime!I’mstuckinthiscave.Onanislandinthesea.”

“Where?”“Idon’tknowexactly!IwenttoFloridaandturnedleft.”“What?Howdidyou-““It’sa trap!”Groversaid.“It’s thereasonnosatyrhaseverreturnedfrom

thisquest.He’sashepherd,Percy!Andhehasit.Itsnaturemagicissopowerfulit smells just like the great god Pan! The satyrs come here thinking they’vefoundPan,andtheygettrappedandeatenbyPolyphemus!”

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

thewaytoSt.Augustine.”“Buthefollowedyou,”Isaid,rememberingmyfirstdream.“Andtrapped

youinabridalboutique.”“That’s right,”Grover said. “My first empathy linkmust’veworked then.

Look, this bridal dress is the only thing keeping me alive. He thinks I smellgood,butItoldhimitwasjustgoat-scentedperfume.Thankgoodnesshecan’tseeverywell.Hiseye is stillhalfblind from the last timesomebodypoked itout.Butsoonhe’llrealizewhatIam.He’sonlygivingmetwoweekstofinishthebridaltrain,andhe’sgettingimpatient!”

“Waitaminute.ThisCyclopsthinksyou’re-““Yes!”Groverwailed.“HethinksI’maladyCyclopsandhewantstomarry

me!”Underdifferentcircumstances,Imight’vebustedoutlaughing,butGrover’s

voicewasdeadlyserious.Hewasshakingwithfear.“I’llcomerescueyou,”Ipromised.“Whereareyou?”“TheSeaofMonsters,ofcourse!”“Theseaofwhat?”“Itoldyou!Idon’tknowexactlywhere!Andlook,Percy…urn,I’mreally

sorryaboutthis,butthisempathylink…well,Ihadnochoice.Ouremotionsareconnectednow.IfIdie…”

“Don’ttellme,I’lldietoo.”“Oh,well,perhapsnot.Youmightliveforyearsinavegetativestate.But,

uh,itwouldbealotbetterifyougotmeoutofhere.”“Honeypie!” the monster bellowed. “Dinnertime! Yummy yummy sheep

meat!”Groverwhimpered.“Ihavetogo.Hurry!”“Wait!Yousaid‘it’washere.What?”ButGrover’svoicewasalreadygrowingfainter.“Sweetdreams.Don’tlet

medie!”ThedreamfadedandIwokewithastart.Itwasearlymorning.Tysonwas

staringdownatme,hisonebigbrowneyefullofconcern.“Areyouokay?”heasked.Hisvoice sent a chill downmyback, becausehe soundedalmost exactly

likethemonsterI’dheardinmydream.Themorningoftheracewashotandhumid.Foglaylowonthegroundlike

sauna steam. Millions of birds were roosting in the trees-fat gray-and-whitepigeons,except theydidn’tcoo like regularpigeons.Theymade thisannoyingmetallicscreechingsoundthatremindedmeofsubmarineradar.

Theracetrackhadbeenbuiltinagrassyfieldbetweenthearcheryrangeandthe woods. Hephaestus’s cabin had used the bronze bulls, which werecompletelytamesincethey’dhadtheirheadssmashedin,toplowanovaltrackinamatterofminutes.

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

“Right!”Tantalusannouncedastheteamsbegantoassemble.Anaiadhadbrought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke, his right handchased a chocolate eclair across the judge’s table. “You all know the rules.Aquarter-miletrack.Twicearoundtowin.Twohorsesperchariot.Eachteamwillconsistofadriverandafighter.Weaponsareallowed.Dirtytricksareexpected.But try not to kill anybody!” Tantalus smiled at us like we were all naughtychildren. “Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s’mores at thecampfireforaweek!Nowreadyyourchariots!”

BeckendorfledtheHephaestusteamontothetrack.Theyhadasweetridemadeofbronzeandiron-eventhehorses,whichweremagicalautomatons liketheColchisbulls. Ihadnodoubt that theirchariothadallkindsofmechanicaltrapsandmorefancyoptionsthanafullyloadedMaserati.

TheAres chariotwasbloodred, andpulledby twogrislyhorse skeletons.Clarisse climbed aboardwith a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops, and a

bunchofothernastytoys.Apollo’schariotwastrimandgracefulandcompletelygold,pulledbytwo

beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he hadpromisednottoshootregularpointedarrowsattheopposingdrivers.

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

Thatlefttwochariots:onedrivenbyAnnabeth,andtheotherbyme.Beforetheracebegan,ItriedtoapproachAnnabethandtellheraboutmy

dream.She perked upwhen ImentionedGrover, butwhen I told herwhat he’d

said,sheseemedtogetdistantagain,suspicious.“You’retryingtodistractme,”shedecided.“What?NoI’mnot!”“Oh,right!LikeGroverwouldjusthappentostumbleacrosstheonething

thatcouldsavethecamp.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Sherolledhereyes.“Gobacktoyourchariot,Percy.”“I’mnotmakingthisup.He’sintrouble,Annabeth.”Shehesitated.Icouldtellshewastryingtodecidewhetherornot to trust

me.Despiteouroccasionalfights,we’dbeenthroughalottogether.AndIknewshewouldneverwantanythingbadtohappentoGrover.

“Percy,anempathylinkissohardtodo.Imean,it’smorelikelyyoureallyweredreaming.”

“TheOracle,”Isaid.“WecouldconsulttheOracle.”Annabethfrowned.Lastsummer,beforemyquest,I’dvisitedthestrangespiritthatlivedinthe

BigHouseatticandithadgivenmeaprophecythatcametrueinwaysI’dneverexpected.The experience had freakedme out formonths.Annabeth knew I’dneversuggestgoingbackthereifIwasn’tcompletelyserious.

Beforeshecouldanswer,theconchhornsounded.“Charioteers!”Tantaluscalled.“Toyourmark!”“We’lltalklater,”Annabethtoldme,“afterIwin.”As I was walking back to my own chariot, I noticed how many more

pigeonswere in the trees now-screeching like crazy,making thewhole forestrustle.Nobodyelseseemedtobepayingthemmuchattention,buttheymademenervous.Their beaks glinted strangely.Their eyes seemed shinier than regularbirds.

Tysonwashavingtroublegettingourhorsesundercontrol.Ihadtotalkto

themalongtimebeforetheywouldsettledown.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,notsafetyor

comfort. It’sbasicallyawoodenbasket,openat theback,mountedonanaxlebetween two wheels. The driver stands up the whole time, and you can feeleverybumpintheroad.Thecarriageismadeofsuchlightwoodthatifyouwipeoutmakingthehairpinturnsateitherendofthetrack,you’llprobablytipoverand crush both the chariot and yourself. It’s an even better rush thanskateboarding.

Itookthereinsandmaneuveredthechariottothestartingline.IgaveTysonaten-footpoleandtoldhimthathisjobwastopushtheotherchariotsawayiftheygottooclose,andtodeflectanythingtheymighttrytothrowatus.

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

cleanrace.Justkeepthedistractionsawayandletmeconcentrateondriving.”“Wewillwin.’”Hebeamed.Wearesogoing to lose, I thought tomyself,but Ibad to try. Iwanted to

showtheothers…well,Iwasn’tsurewhat,exactly.ThatTysonwasn’tsuchabadguy?ThatIwasn’tashamedofbeingseenwithhiminpublic?Maybethattheyhadn’thurtmewithalltheirjokesandname-calling?

As thechariots linedup,moreshiny-eyedpigeonsgathered in thewoods.Theywerescreechingsoloudlythecampersinthestandswerestartingtotakenotice,glancingnervouslyat the trees,whichshiveredunder theweightof thebirds.Tantalusdidn’t lookconcerned,buthedidhave tospeakup tobeheardoverthenoise.

“Charioteers!”heshouted.“Attendyourmark!”Hewavedhishandandthestartingsignaldropped.Thechariotsroaredto

life.Hoovesthunderedagainstthedirt.Thecrowdcheered.Almostimmediatelytherewasaloudnastycrack!Ilookedbackintimeto

seetheApollochariotflipover.TheHermeschariothadrammedintoit-maybebymistake,maybenot.The riderswere thrownfree,but theirpanickedhorsesdraggedthegoldenchariotdiagonallyacrossthetrack.TheHermesteam,TravisandConnorStoll,werelaughingattheirgoodluck,butnotforlong.TheApollo

horsescrashedintotheirs,andtheHermeschariotflippedtoo,leavingapileofbrokenwoodandfourrearinghorsesinthedust.

Twochariotsdowninthefirsttwentyfeet.Ilovedthissport.Iturnedmyattentionbacktothefront.Weweremakinggoodtime,pulling

ahead ofAres, butAnnabeth’s chariotwasway ahead of us. Shewas alreadymakingherturnaroundthefirstpost,herjavelinmangrinningandwavingatus,shouting:“Seeya!”

TheHephaestuschariotwasstartingtogainonus,too.Beckendorf pressed a button, and a panel slid open on the side of his

chariot.“Sorry, Percy!” he yelled. Three sets of balls and chains shot straight

toward our wheels. They would’ve wrecked us completely if Tyson hadn’twhacked them asidewith a quick swipe of his pole. He gave theHephaestuschariotagoodshoveandsentthemskitteringsidewayswhilewepulledahead.

“Nicework,Tyson!”Iyelled.“Birds!”hecried.“What?”Wewerewhipping along so fast itwas hard to hear or see anything, but

Tyson pointed toward the woods and I saw what he was worried about. Thepigeons had risen from the trees. They were spiraling like a huge tornado,headingtowardthetrack.

Nobigdeal,Itoldmyself.They’rejustpigeons.Itriedtoconcentrateontherace.We made our first turn, the wheels creaking under us, the chariot

threateningtotip,butwewerenowonlytenfeetbehindAnnabeth.IfIcouldjustgetalittlecloser,Tysoncouldusehispole….

Annabeth’s fighter wasn’t smiling now. He pulled a javelin from hiscollection and took aim at me. He was about to throw when we heard thescreaming.

The pigeons were swarming-thousands of them dive-bombing thespectators in the stands, attacking theother chariots.Beckendorfwasmobbed.Hisfightertriedtobatthebirdsawaybuthecouldn’tseeanything.Thechariotveered off course and plowed through the strawberry fields, the mechanicalhorsessteaming.

In theAres chariot, Clarisse barked an order to her fighter, who quicklythrew a screen of camouflage netting over their basket. The birds swarmedaroundit,peckingandclawingat thefighter’shandsashetriedtoholdupthenet, but Clarisse just gritted her teeth and kept driving. Her skeletal horsesseemedimmunetothedistraction.Thepigeonspeckeduselesslyattheirempty

eye sockets and flew through their rib cages, but the stallions kept right onrunning.

The spectators weren’t so lucky. The birds were slashing at any bit ofexposedflesh,drivingeveryoneintoapanic.Nowthatthebirdswerecloser,itwascleartheyweren’tnormalpigeons.Theireyeswerebeadyandevil-looking.Theirbeaksweremadeofbronze, and judging from theyelpsof thecampers,theymust’vebeenrazorsharp.

“Stymphalian birds!” Annabeth yelled. She slowed down and pulled herchariotalongsidemine.“They’llstripeveryonetobonesifwedon’tdrivethemaway!”

“Tyson,”Isaid,“we’returningaround!”“Goingthewrongway?”heasked.“Always,”Igrumbled,butIsteeredthechariottowardthestands.Annabeth rode right next to me. She shouted, “Heroes, to arms!” But I

wasn’t sure anyone could hear her over the screeching of the birds and thegeneralchaos.

IheldmyreinsinonehandandmanagedtodrawRiptideasawaveofbirdsdivedatmyface, theirmetalbeakssnapping.Islashedthemoutoftheairandtheyexploded intodustand feathers,but therewerestillmillionsof themleft.OnenailedmeinthebackendandIalmostjumpedstraightoutofthechariot.

Annabethwasn’thavingmuchbetterluck.Thecloserwegottothestands,thethickerthecloudofbirdsbecame.

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

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

Hescaredthemawaywiththemosthorriblesoundhecould-“Hereyesgotwide.“Percy…Chiron’scollection!”Iunderstoodinstantly.“Youthinkit’llwork?”Shehandedherfighterthereinsandleapedfromherchariotintominelike

itwastheeasiestthingintheworld.“TotheBigHouse!It’souronlychance!”Clarisse has just pulled across the finish line, completelyunopposed, and

seemedtonoticeforthefirsttimehowseriousthebirdproblemwas.Whenshesawusdrivingaway,sheyelled,“You’re running?The fight is

here,cowards!”Shedrewherswordandchargedforthestands.Iurgedourhorsesintoagallop.Thechariotrumbledthroughthestrawberry

fields,acrossthevolleyballpit,andlurchedtoahaltinfrontoftheBigHouse.

AnnabethandIraninside,tearingdownthehallwaytoChiron’sapartment.His boom box was still on his nightstand. So were his favorite CDs. I

grabbedthemostrepulsiveoneIcouldfind,Annabethsnatchedtheboombox,andtogetherweranbackoutside.

Down at the track, the chariotswere in flames.Wounded campers ran inevery direction, with birds shredding their clothes and pulling out their hair,whileTantaluschasedbreakfastpastriesaroundthestands,everyonceinawhileyelling,“Everything’sundercontrol!Nottoworry.’”

Wepulleduptothefinishline.Annabethgottheboomboxready.Iprayedthebatteriesweren’tdead.

IpressedPLAYandstartedupChiron’sfavorite-theAll-TimeGreatestHitsofDeanMartin. Suddenly the airwas filledwith violins and a bunchof guysmoaninginItalian.

Thedemonpigeonswentnuts.Theystartedflying incircles, running intoeachotherliketheywantedtobashtheirownbrainsout.Thentheyabandonedthetrackaltogetherandflewskywardinahugedarkwave.

“Now!”shoutedAnnabeth.“Archers!”Withclear targets,Apollo’sarchershadflawlessaim.Mostof themcould

nock five or six arrows at once.Withinminutes, the groundwas litteredwithdeadbronze-beakedpigeons,andthesurvivorswereadistanttrailofsmokeonthehorizon.

Thecampwassaved,butthewreckagewasn’tpretty.Mostofthechariotshadbeencompletelydestroyed.Almosteveryonewaswounded,bleedingfrommultiple birdpecks.Thekids fromAphrodite’s cabinwere screamingbecausetheirhairdoshadbeenruinedandtheirclothespoopedon.

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

Thenhe turnedandsmiledatme.“Andnow topunish the troublemakerswhodisruptedthisrace.”

SEVEN

IACCEPTGIFTS

FROMASTRANGER

ThewayTantalussawit, theStymphalianbirdshadsimplybeenmindingtheir own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Annabeth,Tyson,andIhadn’tdisturbedthemwithourbadchariotdriving.

This was so completely unfair, I told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut,which didn’t help hismood.He sentenced us to kitchen patrol-scrubbing potsandplattersallafternoonintheundergroundkitchenwiththecleaningharpies.Theharpieswashedwithlavainsteadofwater,togetthatextra-cleansparkleandkillninety-ninepointninepercentofallgerms,soAnnabethandIhadtowearasbestosglovesandaprons.

Tyson didn’t mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and startedscrubbing, but Annabeth and I had to suffer through hours of hot, dangerouswork, especially since therewere tons of extra plates. Tantalus had ordered aspecial luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse’s chariot victory-a full-coursemealfeaturingcountry-friedStymphaliandeath-bird.

Theonlygoodthingaboutourpunishmentwasthat itgaveAnnabethandmeacommonenemyandlotsoftimetotalk.AfterlisteningtomydreamaboutGroveragain,shelookedlikeshemightbestartingtobelieveme.

“Ifhe’sreallyfoundit,”shemurmured,“andifwecouldretrieveit-““Holdon,”Isaid.“Youact likethis…whatever-it-isGroverfoundis the

onlythingintheworldthatcouldsavethecamp.Whatisit?”“I’llgiveyouahint.Whatdoyougetwhenyouskinaram?”“Messy?”Shesighed.“Afleece.Thecoatofaramiscalledafleece.Andifthatram

happenstohavegoldenwool-““TheGoldenFleece.Areyouserious?”Annabeth scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. “Percy,

remember theGraySisters?Theysaid theyknewthe locationof the thingyouseek.AndtheymentionedJason.Threethousandyearsago,theytoldhimhowtofindtheGoldenFleece.YoudoknowthestoryofJasonandtheArgonauts?”

“Yeah,”Isaid.“Thatoldmoviewiththeclayskeletons.”Annabethrolledhereyes.“Ohmygods,Percy!Youaresohopeless.”“What?”Idemanded.“Just listen.Therealstoryof theFleece: therewerethesetwochildrenof

Zeus,CadmusandEuropa,okay?Theywereabouttogetofferedupashumansacrifices,when they prayed to Zeus to save them. SoZeus sent thismagical

flyingramwithgoldenwool,whichpickedthemupinGreeceandcarriedthemall thewaytoColchis inAsiaMinor.Well,actually itcarriedCadmus.Europafelloffanddiedalongtheway,butthat’snotimportant.”

“Itwasprobablyimportanttoher.”“Thepointis,whenCadmusgottoColchis,hesacrificedthegoldenramto

thegodsandhungtheFleeceinatreeinthemiddleofthekingdom.TheFleecebroughtprosperitytotheland.Animalsstoppedgettingsick.Plantsgrewbetter.Farmershadbumpercrops.Plaguesnevervisited.That’swhyJasonwantedtheFleece.Itcanrevitalizeanylandwhereit’splaced.Itcuressickness,strengthensnature,cleansuppollution-“

“ItcouldcureThalia’stree.”Annabeth nodded. “And it would totally strengthen the borders of Camp

Half-Blood.ButPercy,theFleecehasbeenmissingforcenturies.Tonsofheroeshavesearchedforitwithnoluck.”

“ButGroverfoundit,”Isaid.“HewentlookingforPanandhefoundtheFleeceinsteadbecausetheybothradiatenaturemagic.Itmakessense,Annabeth.Wecanrescuehimandsavethecampatthesametime.It’sperfect!”

Annabeth hesitated. “A little too perfect, don’t you think?What if it’s atrap?”

I remembered last summer,howKronoshadmanipulatedourquest.He’dalmost fooledus intohelpinghimstartawar thatwould’vedestroyedWesternCivilization.

“What choice do we have?” I asked. “Are you going to help me rescueGroverornot?”

She glanced at Tyson, who’d lost interest in our conversation and washappilymakingtoyboatsoutofcupsandspoonsinthelava.

“Percy,” she said under her breath, “we’ll have to fight a Cyclops.Polyphemus, theworst of theCyclopes.And there’s only one place his islandcouldbe.TheSeaofMonsters.”

“Where’sthat?”She stared at me like she thought I was playing dumb. “The Sea of

Monsters.ThesameseaOdysseussailedthrough,andJason,andAeneas,andalltheothers.”

“YoumeantheMediterranean?”“No.Well,yes…butno.”“Anotherstraightanswer.Thanks.”“Look,Percy,theSeaofMonstersistheseaallheroessailthroughontheir

adventures. Itused tobe in theMediterranean,yes.But likeeverythingelse, itshiftslocationsastheWest’scenterofpowershifts.”

“Like Mount Olympus being above the Empire State Building,” I said.“AndHadesbeingunderLosAngeles.”

“Right.”“Butawholeseafullofmonsters-howcouldyouhidesomethinglikethat?

Wouldn’tthemortalsnoticeweirdthingshappening…like,shipsgettingeatenandstuff?”

“Ofcoursetheynotice.Theydon’tunderstand,buttheyknowsomethingisstrangeaboutthatpartoftheocean.TheSeaofMonstersisofftheeastcoastoftheU.S.now,justnortheastofFlorida.Themortalsevenhaveanameforit.”

“TheBermudaTriangle?”“Exactly.”I let that sink in. Iguess itwasn’t stranger thananythingelse I’d learned

since coming to Camp Half-Blood. “Okay… so at least we know where tolook.”

“It’s still a huge area, Percy. Searching for one tiny island in monster-infestedwaters-“

“Hey, I’m thesonof the seagod.This ismyhome turf.Howhardcan itbe?”

Annabethknithereyebrows.“We’llhavetotalktoTantalus,getapprovalforaquest.He’llsayno.”

“Notifwetellhimtonightatthecampfireinfrontofeverybody.Thewholecampwillhear.They’llpressurehim.Hewon’tbeabletorefuse.”

“Maybe.”AlittlebitofhopecreptintoAnnabeth’svoice.“We’dbettergetthesedishesdone.Handmethelavaspraygun,willyou?”

Thatnightatthecampfire,Apollo’scabinledthesing-along.Theytriedtogeteverybody’s spiritsup,but itwasn’t easyafter that afternoon’sbirdattack.Weallsataroundasemicircleofstonesteps,singinghalfheartedlyandwatchingthebonfireblazewhiletheApolloguysstrummedtheirguitarsandpickedtheirlyres.

Wedidallthestandardcampnumbers:“DownbytheAegean,”“IAmMyOwn Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa,” “This Land is Minos’s Land.” Thebonfirewasenchanted,sothelouderyousang,thehigheritrose,changingcolorandheatwith themoodof thecrowd.Onagoodnight, I’dseen it twentyfeethigh,brightpurple, and sohot thewhole front row’smarshmallowsburst intotheflames.Tonight,thefirewasonlyfivefeethigh,barelywarm,andtheflameswerethecoloroflint.

Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he mutteredsomething about howevenpinochlewithChironhadbeenmore exciting thanthis.ThenhegaveTantalusadistasteful lookandheadedback toward theBig

House.Whenthelastsongwasover,Tantalussaid,“Well,thatwaslovely!”Hecameforwardwithatoastedmarshmallowonastickandtriedtopluck

itoff, realcasual-like.Butbeforehecould touch it, themarshmallowflewoffthe stick.Tantalusmadeawildgrab,but themarshmallowcommitted suicide,divingintotheflames.

Tantalus turned back toward us, smiling coldly. “Now then! Someannouncementsabouttomorrow’sschedule.”

“Sir,”Isaid.Tantalus’seyetwitched.“Ourkitchenboyhassomethingtosay?”Some of the Ares campers snickered, but I wasn’t going to let anybody

embarrassmeintosilence.IstoodandlookedatAnnabeth.Thankthegods,shestoodupwithme.

Isaid,“Wehaveanideatosavethecamp.”Dead silence, but I could tell I’dgotten everybody’s interest, because the

campfireflaredbrightyellow.“Indeed,” Tantalus said blandly. “Well, if it has anything to do with

chariots-““TheGoldenFleece,”Isaid.“Weknowwhereitis.”Theflamesburnedorange.BeforeTantaluscouldstopme,Iblurtedoutmy

dream about Grover and Polyphemus’s island. Annabeth stepped in andreminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincingcomingfromher.

“TheFleececansavethecamp,”sheconcluded.“I’mcertainofit.”“Nonsense,”saidTantalus.“Wedon’tneedsaving.”EverybodystaredathimuntilTantalusstartedlookinguncomfortable.“Besides,”headdedquickly,“theSeaofMonsters?That’shardlyanexact

location.Youwouldn’tevenknowwheretolook.”“Yes,Iwould,”Isaid.Annabethleanedtowardmeandwhispered,“Youwould?”I nodded, becauseAnnabeth had jogged something inmymemorywhen

she remindedme about our taxi drivewith theGray Sisters. At the time, theinformationthey’dgivenmemadenosense.Butnow…

“30,31,75,12,”Isaid.“Ooo-kay,” Tantalus said. “Thank you for sharing those meaningless

numbers.”“They’resailingcoordinates,”Isaid.“Latitudeandlongitude.I,uh,learned

aboutitinsocialstudies.”Even Annabeth looked impressed. “30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75

degrees, 12 minutes west. He’s right! The Gray Sisters gave us thosecoordinates.That’dbesomewhereintheAtlantic,off thecoastofFlorida.TheSeaofMonsters.Weneedaquest!”

“Waitjustaminute,”Tantalussaid.Butthecamperstookupthechant.“Weneedaquest!Weneedaquest!”Theflamesrosehigher.“Itisn’tnecessary!”Tantalusinsisted.“WENEEDAQUEST!WENEEDAQUEST!”“Fine!”Tantalusshouted,hiseyesblazingwithanger.“Youbratswantme

toassignaquest?”“YES!”“Very well,” he agreed. “I shall authorize a champion to undertake this

perilousjourney,toretrievetheGoldenFleeceandbringitbacktocamp.Ordietrying.”

My heart filledwith excitement. Iwasn’t going to let Tantalus scareme.ThiswaswhatIneededtodo.IwasgoingtosaveGroverandthecamp.Nothingwouldstopme.

“I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!” Tantalus announced.“And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice ofchampionisobvious.”

TantaluslookedatAnnabethandmeasifhewantedtoflayusalive.“Thechampion should be onewho has earned the camp’s respect, who has provenresourcefulinthechariotracesandcourageousinthedefenseofthecamp.Youshallleadthisquest…Clarisse!”

The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin startedstompingandcheering,“CLARISSE!CLARISSE!”

Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chestswelledwithpride.“Iacceptthequest!”

“Wait!”Ishouted.“Groverismyfriend.Thedreamcametome.”“Sit down!” yelled one of the Ares campers. “You had your chance last

summer!”“Yeah,hejustwantstobeinthespotlightagain!”anothersaid.Clarisse glared at me. “I accept the quest!” she repeated. “I, Clarisse,

daughterofAres,willsavethecamp!”TheArescamperscheeredevenlouder.Annabethprotested,andtheother

Athena campers joined in. Everybody else started taking sides-shouting andarguingandthrowingmarshmallows.I thought itwasgoingto turnintoafull-fledgeds’morewaruntilTantalusshouted,“Silence,youbrats!”

Histonestunnedevenme.

“Sitdown!”heordered.“AndIwilltellyouaghoststory.”Ididn’tknowwhathewasupto,butweallmovedreluctantlybacktoour

seats. The evil aura radiating fromTantaluswas as strong as anymonster I’deverfaced.

“OnceuponatimetherewasamortalkingwhowasbelovedoftheGods!”Tantalus put his handon his chest, and I got the feeling hewas talking abouthimself.

“Thisking,”hesaid,“wasevenallowed to feastonMountOlympus.Butwhenhetriedtotakesomeambrosiaandnectarbacktoearthtofigureout therecipe-justonelittledoggiebag,mindyou-thegodspunishedhim.Theybannedhimfromtheirhallsforever!Hisownpeoplemockedhim!Hischildrenscoldedhim!And,ohyes,campers,hehadhorriblechildren.Children-just-like-you.”

Hepointedacrookedfingeratseveralpeopleintheaudience,includingme.“Do you know what he did to his ungrateful children?” Tantalus asked

softly.“Doyouknowhowhepaidbackthegodsfortheircruelpunishment?Heinvited theOlympians toa feastathispalace, just toshowtherewerenohardfeelings.Noonenoticedthathischildrenweremissing.Andwhenheservedthegodsdinner,mydearcampers,canyouguesswhatwasinthestew?”

Noonedaredanswer.The firelightgloweddarkblue, reflectingevillyonTantalus’scrookedface.

“Oh, thegodspunishedhimin theafterlife,”Tantaluscroaked.“Theydidindeed.Buthe’dhadhismomentofsatisfaction,hadn’the?Hischildrenneveragain spokeback tohimorquestionedhis authority.Anddoyouknowwhat?Rumorhas it that theking’sspiritnowdwellsat thisverycamp,waiting forachance to take revengeonungrateful, rebellious children.And so…are thereanymorecomplaints,beforewesendClarisseoffonherquest?”

Silence.TantalusnoddedatClarisse.“TheOracle,mydear.Goon.”Sheshifteduncomfortably, likeevenshedidn’twantgloryat thepriceof

beingTantalus’spet.“Sir-““Go!”hesnarled.ShebowedawkwardlyandhurriedofftowardtheBigHouse.“Whataboutyou,PercyJackson?”Tantalusasked.“Nocommentsfromour

dishwasher?”I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of

punishingmeagain.“Good,” Tantalus said. “And let me remind everyone-no one leaves this

camp without my permission. Anyone who tries… well, if they survive theattempt,theywillbeexpelledforever,butitwon’tcometothat.Theharpieswill

beenforcingcurfewfromnowon,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.”Tyson looked down at the pieces ofmetal hewas assembling in his lap-

springs and gears and tiny wires. Beckendorf had given him some tools andspare parts, and now Tyson spent every night tinkering, though I wasn’t surehowhishugehandscouldhandlesuchdelicatelittlepieces.

“Whatareyoubuilding?”Iasked.Tysondidn’tanswer. Insteadhemadeawhimperingsound in thebackof

histhroat.“Annabethdoesn’tlikeCyclopes.You…don’twantmealong?”“Oh,that’snotit,”Isaidhalfheartedly.“Annabethlikesyou.Really.”Hehadtearsinthecornersofhiseye.I remembered that Grover, like all satyrs, could read human emotions. I

wonderedifCyclopeshadthesameability.Tyson folded up his tinkering project in an oilcloth.He lay down on his

bunkbedandhuggedhisbundle likea teddybear.Whenheturnedtowardthewall, I could see theweird scarsonhisback, like somebodyhadplowedoverhimwithatractor.Iwonderedforthemillionthtimehowhe’dgottenhurt.

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

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

MyvoicetrailedoffasI thoughtaboutall thoseyearsTysonhadlivedonthestreetsofNewYorkinacardboardrefrigeratorbox.HowcouldTysonthinkthatPoseidonhadcared forhim?Whatkindofdad let thathappen tohiskid,evenifhiskidwasamonster?

“Tyson…campwillbeagoodhomeforyou.Theotherswillgetusedtoyou.Ipromise.”

Tyson sighed. Iwaited for him to say something.Then I realizedhewasalreadyasleep.

Ilaybackonmybedandtriedtoclosemyeyes,butIjustcouldn’t.IwasafraidImighthaveanotherdreamaboutGrover.Iftheempathylinkwasreal…

ifsomethinghappenedtoGrover…wouldIeverwakeup?Thefullmoonshonethroughmywindow.Thesoundofthesurfrumbledin

thedistance.Icouldsmellthewarmscentofthestrawberryfields,andhearthelaughterofthedryadsastheychasedowlsthroughtheforest.Butsomethingfeltwrongaboutthenight-thesicknessofThalia’stree,spreadingacrossthevalley.

CouldClarissesaveHalf-BloodHill?Ithoughttheoddswerebetterofmegettinga“BestCamper”awardfromTantalus.

Igotoutofbedandpulledonsomeclothes.Igrabbedabeachblanketandasix-pack ofCoke fromundermybunk.TheCokeswere against the rules.Nooutside snacks or drinks were allowed, but if you talked to the right guy inHermes’scabinandpaidhimafewgoldendrachma,hecouldsmuggleinalmostanythingfromthenearestconveniencestore.

Sneaking out after curfew was against the rules, too. If I got caught I’deithergetinbigtroubleorbeeatenbytheharpies.ButIwantedtoseetheocean.Ialwaysfeltbetterthere.Mythoughtswereclearer.Ileftthecabinandheadedforthebeach.

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

The sky was clear and starry. I was checking out the constellationsAnnabethhadtaughtme-Sagittarius,Hercules,CoronaBorealis-whensomebodysaid,“Beautiful,aren’tthey?”

Ialmostspewedsoda.Standing right next tomewas a guy in nylon running shorts and aNew

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

Myfirstthoughtwasthathemust’vebeentakingamidnightjogdownthebeach and strayed inside the camp borders. That wasn’t supposed to happen.Regular mortals couldn’t enter the valley. But maybe with the tree’s magicweakeninghe’dmanaged toslip in.But in themiddleof thenight?And therewasnothingaroundexceptfarmlandandstatepreserves.Wherewouldthisguyhavejoggedfrom?

“MayIjoinyou?”heasked.“Ihaven’tsatdowninages.”Now, I know-a strange guy in themiddle of the night.Common sense: I

wassupposedtorunaway,yellforhelp,etc.ButtheguyactedsocalmaboutthewholethingthatIfoundithardtobeafraid.

Isaid,“Uh,sure.”Hesmiled.“Yourhospitalitydoesyoucredit.Oh,andCoca-Cola!MayI?”

Hesatattheotherendoftheblanket,poppedasodaandtookadrink.“Ah…thathitsthespot.Peaceandquietat-“

Acellphonewentoffinhispocket.Thejoggersighed.Hepulledouthisphoneandmyeyesgotbig,becauseit

glowedwithabluishlight.Whenheextendedtheantenna,twocreaturesbeganwrithingaroundit-greensnakes,nobiggerthanearthworms.

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

Helistened.Themini-snakeswrithedupanddowntheantennarightnexttohisear.

“Yeah,”thejoggersaid.“ListenIknow,but…Idon’tcareifheischainedtoarockwithvulturespeckingathis liver, ifhedoesn’thavea trackingnumber,we can’t locate his package…. A gift to humankind, great…You know howmany of those we deliver-Oh, never mind. Listen, just refer him to Eris incustomerservice.Igottago.”

Hehungup.“Sorry.Theovernightexpressbusinessisjustbooming.Now,asIwassaying-“

“Youhavesnakesonyourphone.”“What?Oh,theydon’tbite.Sayhello,GeorgeandMartha.”Hello,GeorgeandMartha,araspymalevoicesaidinsidemyhead.Don’tbesarcastic,saidafemalevoice.Whynot?Georgedemanded.Idoalltherealwork.“Oh, let’snotgo into thatagain!”The joggerslippedhisphoneback into

hispocket.“Now,wherewerewe…Ah,yes.Peaceandquiet.”Hecrossedhis ankles and staredup at the stars. “Beena long time since

I’ve gotten to relax. Ever since the telegraph-rush, rush, rush.Do you have afavoriteconstellation,Percy?”

Iwasstillkindofwonderingaboutthelittlegreensnakeshe’dshovedintohisjoggingshorts,butIsaid,“Uh,IlikeHercules.”

“Why?”“Well…becausehehadrotten luck.Evenworse thanmine. Itmakesme

feelbetter.”Thejoggerchuckled.“Notbecausehewasstrongandfamousandallthat?”“No.”“You’reaninterestingyoungman.Andso,whatnow?”Iknewimmediatelywhathewasasking.WhatdidIintendtodoaboutthe

Fleece?Before I could answer,Martha the snake’s muffled voice came from his

pocket:IhaveDemeteronlinetwo.

“Notnow,”thejoggersaid.“Tellhertoleaveamessage.”She’snotgoingtolikethat.Thelasttimeyouputheroff,alltheflowersin

thefloraldeliverydivisionwilted.“Just tellher I’minameeting!”The jogger rolledhiseyes.“Sorryagain,

Percy.Youweresaying…”“Um…whoareyou,exactly?”“Haven’tyouguessedbynow,asmartboylikeyou?”Showhim!Marthapleaded.Ihaven’tbeenfull-sizeformonths.Don’tlistentoher!Georgesaid.Shejustwantstoshowoff!Themantookouthisphoneagain.“Originalform,please.”The phone glowed a brilliant blue. It stretched into a three-foot-long

wooden staffwithdovewings sproutingout the top.GeorgeandMartha,nowfull-sizedgreensnakes,coiledtogetheraroundthemiddle.Itwasacaduceus,thesymbolofCabinEleven.

My throat tightened. I realized who the jogger remindedme of with hiselfishfeatures,themischievoustwinkleinhiseyes….

“You’reLuke’sfather,”Isaid.“Hermes.”Thegodpursedhislips.Hestuckhiscaduceusinthesandlikeanumbrella

pole. “‘Luke’s father.’Normally, that’s not the firstway people introduceme.Godofthieves,yes.Godofmessengersandtravelers,iftheywishtobekind.”

Godofthievesworks,Georgesaid.Oh,don’tmindGeorge.Martha flickedher tongue atme.He’s just bitter

becauseHermeslikesmebest.Hedoesnot!Doestoo!“Behave,youtwo,”Hermeswarned,“orI’llturnyoubackintoacellphone

and set you on vibrate! Now, Percy, you still haven’t answered my question.Whatdoyouintendtodoaboutthequest?”

“I-Idon’thavepermissiontogo.”“No,indeed.Willthatstopyou?”“Iwanttogo.IhavetosaveGrover.”Hermessmiled.“Iknewaboyonce…oh,youngerthanyoubyfar.Amere

baby,really.”Herewegoagain,Georgesaid.AlwaystalkingabouthimselfQuiet!Marthasnapped.Doyouwanttogetsetonvibrate?Hermesignoredthem.“Onenight,whenthisboy’smotherwasn’twatching,

hesneakedoutoftheircaveandstolesomecattlethatbelongedtoApollo.”“Didhegetblastedtotinypieces?”Iasked.“Hmm…no.Actually,everythingturnedoutquitewell.Tomakeupforhis

theft, the boy gaveApollo an instrument he’d invented-a lyre.Apollowas soenchantedwiththemusicthatheforgotallaboutbeingangry.”

“Sowhat’sthemoral?”“Themoral?”Hermesasked.“Goodness,youactlikeit’safable.It’satrue

story.Doestruthhaveamoral?”“Um…”“Howaboutthis:stealingisnotalwaysbad?”“Idon’tthinkmymomwouldlikethatmoral.”Ratsaredelicious,suggestedGeorge.Whatdoesthathavetodowiththestory?Marthademanded.Nothing,Georgesaid.ButI’mhungry.“I’ve got it,” Hermes said. “Young people don’t always do what they’re

told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes theyescapepunishment.How’sthat?”

“You’resayingIshouldgoanyway,”Isaid,“evenwithoutpermission.”Hermes’seyestwinkled.“Martha,mayIhavethefirstpackage,please?”Marthaopenedhermouth…andkeptopeningituntilitwasaswideasmy

arm. She belched out a stainless steel canister-an old-fashioned lunch boxthermoswithablackplastictop.Thesidesofthethermoswereenameledwithred and yellow Ancient Greek scenes-a hero killing a lion; a hero lifting upCerberus,thethree-headeddog.

“That’sHercules,”Isaid.“Buthow-““Never question a gift,”Hermes chided. “This is a collector’s item from

HerculesBustsHeads.Thefirstseason.”“HerculesBustsHeads?”“Greatshow.”Hermessighed.“BackbeforeHephaestus-TVwasallreality

programming.Ofcourse, the thermoswouldbeworthmuchmore if Ihad thewholelunchbox-“

Orifithadn’tbeeninMartha’smouth,Georgeadded.I’llgetyouforthat.Marthabeganchasinghimaroundthecaduceus.“Waitaminute,”Isaid.“Thisisagift?”“Oneoftwo,”Hermessaid.“Goon,pickitup.”Ialmostdroppeditbecauseitwasfreezingcoldononesideandburninghot

ontheother.Theweirdthingwas,whenIturnedthethermos,thesidefacingtheocean-north-wasalwaysthecoldside….

“It’sacompass!”Isaid.Hermes looked surprised. “Very clever. I never thought of that. But its

intended use is a bitmore dramatic.Uncap it, and youwill release thewindsfrom the four corners of the earth to speed you on your way. Not now!And

please,whenthetimecomes,onlyunscrewthelidatinybit.Thewindsareabitlikeme-alwaysrestless.Shouldallfourescapeatonce…ah,butI’msureyou’llbecareful.Andnowmysecondgift.George?”

She’s touchingme,GeorgecomplainedasheandMarthaslitheredaroundthepole.

“She’salwaystouchingyou,”Hermessaid.“You’reintertwined.Andifyoudon’tstopthat,you’llgetknottedagain!

Thesnakesstoppedwrestling.Georgeunhingedhis jawandcoughedupa littleplasticbottle filledwith

chewablevitamins.“You’rekidding,”Isaid.“ArethoseMinotaur-shaped?”Hermespickedupthebottleandrattledit.“Thelemonones,yes.Thegrape

onesareFuries,Ithink.Oraretheyhydras?Atanyrate,thesearepotent.Don’ttakeoneunlessyoureally,reallyneedit.”

“HowwillIknowifIreally,reallyneedit?”“You’ll know, believeme.Nine essential vitamins,minerals, amino acids

…oh,everythingyouneedtofeelyourselfagain.”Hetossedmethebottle.“Um,thanks,”Isaid.“ButLordHermes,whyareyouhelpingme?”Hegavemeamelancholysmile.“PerhapsbecauseIhopethatyoucansave

manypeopleonthisquest,Percy.NotjustyourfriendGrover.”Istaredathim.“Youdon’tmean…Luke?”Hermesdidn’tanswer.“Look,” I said. “Lord Hermes, I mean, thanks and everything, but you

mightaswelltakebackyourgifts.Lukecan’tbesaved.EvenifIcouldfindhim… he toldme hewanted to tear downOlympus stone by stone. He betrayedeverybodyheknew.He-hehatesyouespecially.”

Hermesgazedupatthestars.“Mydearyoungcousin,if there’sonethingI’velearnedovertheeons,it’sthatyoucan’tgiveuponyourfamily,nomatterhowtemptingtheymakeit.Itdoesn’tmatteriftheyhateyou,orembarrassyou,orsimplydon’tappreciateyourgeniusforinventingtheInternet-“

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

notthepoint.Percy,doyouunderstandwhatI’msayingaboutfamily?”“I-I’mnotsure.”“Youwillsomeday.”Hermesgotupandbrushedthesandoffhislegs.“In

themeantime,Imustbegoing.”

Youhavesixtycallstoreturn,Marthasaid.And one thousand-thirty-eight e-mails, George added. Not counting the

offersforonlinediscountambrosia.“Andyou,Percy,”Hermessaid,“haveashorterdeadlinethanyourealizeto

completeyourquest.Yourfriendsshouldbecomingrightabout…now.”IheardAnnabeth’svoicecallingmynamefromthesanddunes.Tyson,too,

wasshoutingfromalittlebitfartheraway.“IhopeIpackedwellforyou,”Hermessaid.“Idohavesomeexperience

withtravel.”Hesnappedhis fingersand threeyellowduffelbagsappearedatmy feet.

“Waterproof,ofcourse.Ifyouasknicely,yourfathershouldbeabletohelpyoureachtheship.”

“Ship?”Hermes pointed. Sure enough, a big cruise shipwas cutting across Long

IslandSound,itswhite-and-goldlightsglowingagainstthedarkwater.“Wait,”Isaid.“Idon’tunderstandanyofthis.Ihaven’tevenagreedtogo!”“I’dmakeupyourmind in thenext fiveminutes, if Iwereyou,”Hermes

advised.“That’swhentheharpieswillcometoeatyou.Now,goodnight,cousin,anddareIsayit?Maythegodsgowithyou.”

Heopenedhishandandthecaduceusflewintoit.Goodluck,Marthatoldme.Bringmebackarat,Georgesaid.The caduceus changed into a cell phone and Hermes slipped it into his

pocket.He jogged off down the beach. Twenty paces away, he shimmered and

vanished, leavingmealonewitha thermos,abottleofchewablevitamins,andfiveminutestomakeanimpossibledecision.

EIGHT

WEBOARDTHE

PRINCESSANDROMEDA

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

thermosandthebottleofvitaminsIwasholding.“What-““Justlisten,”Isaid.“Wedon’thavemuchtime.”ItoldthemaboutmyconversationwithHermes.BythetimeIwasfinished,

Icouldhearscreechinginthedistance-patrolharpiespickingupourscent.“Percy,”Annabethsaid,“wehavetodothequest.”“We’llgetexpelled,youknow.Trustme,I’manexpertatgettingexpelled.”“So?Ifwefail,therewon’tbeanycamptocomebackto.”“Yeah,butyoupromisedChiron-““IpromisedI’dkeepyoufromdanger.Icanonlydothatbycomingwith

you!Tysoncanstaybehindandtellthem-““Iwanttogo,”Tysonsaid.“No!”Annabeth’s voice sounded close to panic. “Imean…Percy, come

on.Youknowthat’simpossible.”IwonderedagainwhyshehadsuchagrudgeagainstCyclopes.Therewas

somethingshewasn’ttellingme.SheandTysonboth lookedatme,waiting forananswer.Meanwhile, the

cruiseshipwasgettingfartherandfartheraway.Thethingwas,partofmedidn’twantTysonalong.I’dspentthelastthree

days in close quarters with the guy, getting razzed by the other campers andembarrassedamilliontimesaday,constantlyremindedthatIwasrelatedtohim.Ineededsomespace.

Plus,Ididn’tknowhowmuchhelphe’dbe,orhowI’dkeephimsafe.Sure,hewasstrong,butTysonwasalittlekidinCyclopsterms,maybesevenoreightyears old,mentally. I could see him freakingout and starting to crywhileweweretryingtosneakpastamonsterorsomething.He’dgetusallkilled.

Ontheotherhand,thesoundoftheharpieswasgettingcloser….“We can’t leave him,” I decided. “Tantaluswill punish him for us being

gone.”“Percy,” Annabeth said, trying to keep her cool, “we’re going to

Polyphemus’s island!Polyphemus isanS-i-k…aC-y-k . ..”Shestampedher

foot in frustration. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, too. Wecould’vebeenthereallnightwhileshetriedtospellCyclops.“YouknowwhatImean!”

“Tysoncango,”Iinsisted,“ifhewantsto.”Tysonclappedhishands.“Wantto!”Annabethgavemetheevileye,butIguessshecouldtellIwasn’tgoingto

changemymind.Ormaybeshejustknewwedidn’thavetimetoargue.“Allright,”shesaid.“Howdowegettothatship?”“Hermessaidmyfatherwouldhelp.”“Wellthen,SeaweedBrain?Whatareyouwaitingfor?”I’d alwayshad a hard time callingonmy father, or praying, orwhatever

youwanttocallit,butIsteppedintothewaves.“Urn,Dad?”Icalled.“How’sitgoing?”“Percy!”Annabethwhispered.“We’reinahurry!”“Weneedyourhelp,”Icalledalittlelouder.“Weneedtogettothatship,

like,beforewegeteatenandstuff,so…”At first, nothing happened.Waves crashed against the shore like normal.

Theharpiessoundedliketheywererightbehindthesanddunes.Then,aboutahundredyardsouttosea,threewhitelinesappearedonthesurface.Theymovedfasttowardtheshore,likeclawsrippingthroughtheocean.

Astheynearedthebeach,thesurfburstapartandtheheadsofthreewhitestallionsrearedoutofthewaves.

Tysoncaughthisbreath.“Fishponies!”Hewasright.Asthecreaturespulledthemselvesontothesand,Isawthat

theywere only horses in the front; their back halveswere silvery fish bodies,withglisteningscalesandrainbowtailfins.

“Hippocampi!”Annabethsaid.“They’rebeautiful.”ThenearestonewhinniedinappreciationandnuzzledAnnabeth.“We’lladmirethemlater,”Isaid.“Comeon!”“There!”avoicescreechedbehindus.“Badchildrenoutofcabins!Snack

timeforluckyharpies!”Five of themwere fluttering over the top of the dunes-plump little hags

with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies.Theyremindedmeofminiaturecafeterialadieswho’dbeencrossbredwithdodobirds. They weren’t very fast, thank the gods, but they were vicious if theycaughtyou.

“Tyson!”Isaid.“Grabaduffelbag!”He was still staring at the hippocampi with his mouth hanging open,

“Tyson!”

“Uh?”“Comeon!”WithAnnabeth’shelpIgothimmoving.Wegatheredthebagsandmounted

oursteeds.Poseidonmust’veknownTysonwasoneofthepassengers,becauseonehippocampuswasmuch larger than theother two-just right for carrying aCyclops.

“Giddyup!” I said.My hippocampus turned and plunged into the waves.Annabeth’sandTyson’sfollowedrightbehind.

The harpies cursed at us, wailing for their snacks to come back, but thehippocampiracedoverthewateratthespeedofJetSkis.Theharpiesfellbehind,and soon the shore of Camp Half-Blood was nothing but a dark smudge. IwonderedifI’deverseetheplaceagain.ButrightthenIhadotherproblems.

Thecruiseshipwasnowloominginfrontofus-ourridetowardFloridaandtheSeaofMonsters.

Ridingthehippocampuswaseveneasierthanridingapegasus.Wezippedalongwith thewind in our faces, speeding through thewaves so smooth andsteadyIhardlyneededtoholdonatall.

Aswegotclosertothecruiseship,Irealizedjusthowhugeitwas.IfeltasthoughIwerelookingupatabuildinginManhattan.Thewhitehullwasatleastten stories tall, topped with another dozen levels of decks with brightly litbalconiesandportholes.Theship’snamewaspaintedjustabovethebowlineinblack letters, lit with a spotlight. It took me a few seconds to decipher it:PRINCESSANDROMEDA

Attachedtothebowwasahugemasthead-athree-story-tallwomanwearingawhiteGreekchiton,sculptedtolookasifshewerechainedtothefrontoftheship.Shewasyoungandbeautiful,withflowingblackhair,butherexpressionwasoneofabsolute terror.Whyanybodywouldwantascreamingprincessonthefrontoftheirvacationship,Ihadnoidea.

IrememberedthemythaboutAndromedaandhowshehadbeenchainedtoarockbyherownparentsasasacrificetoaseamonster.Maybeshe’dgottentoomanyF’sonherreportcardorsomething.Anyway,mynamesake,Perseus,hadsaved her just in time and turned the seamonster to stone using the head ofMedusa.

ThatPerseusalwayswon.That’swhymymomhadnamedmeafterhim,even though hewas a son ofZeus and Iwas a son of Poseidon.The originalPerseuswasoneoftheonlyheroesintheGreekmythswhogotahappyending.The others died-betrayed,mauled,mutilated, poisoned, or cursed by the gods.Mymom hoped I would inherit Perseus’s luck. Judging by howmy life wasgoingsofar,Iwasn’trealoptimistic.

“Howdowegetaboard?”Annabethshoutedover thenoiseof thewaves,butthehippocampiseemedtoknowwhatweneeded.Theyskimmedalongthestarboard side of the ship, riding easily through its hugewake, and pulled upnexttoaserviceladderrivetedtothesideofthehull.

“Youfirst,”ItoldAnnabeth.She slungherduffelbagoverher shoulder andgrabbed thebottom rung.

Onceshe’dhoistedherselfontotheladder,herhippocampuswhinniedafarewellanddoveunderwater.Annabethbegantoclimb.Ilethergetafewrungsup,thenfollowedher.

FinallyitwasjustTysoninthewater.Hishippocampuswastreatinghimto360° aerials and backward ollies, and Tysonwas laughing so hysterically, thesoundechoedupthesideoftheship.

“Tyson,shhh!”Isaid.“Comeon,bigguy!”“Can’twetakeRainbow?”heasked,hissmilefading.Istaredathim.“Rainbow?”Thehippocampuswhinniedasifhelikedhisnewname.“Um,wehavetogo,”Isaid.“Rainbow…well,hecan’tclimbladders.”Tysonsniffled.Heburiedhisfaceinthehippocampus’smane.“Iwillmiss

you,Rainbow!”ThehippocampusmadeaneighingsoundIcould’veswornwascrying.“Maybewe’llseehimagainsometime,”Isuggested.“Oh,please!”Tysonsaid,perkingupimmediately.“Tomorrow!”I didn’t make any promises, but I finally convinced Tyson to say his

farewells and grab hold of the ladder.With a final sad whinny, Rainbow thehippocampusdidaback-flipanddoveintothesea.

Theladderledtoamaintenancedeckstackedwithyellowlifeboats.Therewasasetoflockeddoubledoors,whichAnnabethmanagedtopryopenwithherknifeandafairamountofcursinginAncientGreek.

I figuredwe’d have to sneak around, being stowaways and all, but afterchecking a few corridors and peering over a balcony into a huge centralpromenadelinedwithclosedshops,Ibegantorealizetherewasnobodytohidefrom.Imean,sureitwasthemiddleofthenight,butwewalkedhalfthelengthof theboatandmetnoone.Wepassedfortyor fiftycabindoorsandheardnosoundbehindanyofthem.

“It’saghostship,”Imurmured.“No,”Tysonsaid,fiddlingwiththestrapofhisduffelbag.“Badsmell.”Annabethfrowned.“Idon’tsmellanything.”“Cyclopesarelikesatyrs,”Isaid.“Theycansmellmonsters.Isn’tthatright,

Tyson?”

Henoddednervously.NowthatwewereawayfromCampHalf-Blood,theMisthaddistortedhisfaceagain.UnlessIconcentratedveryhard,itseemedthathehadtwoeyesinsteadofone.

“Okay,”Annabethsaid.“Sowhatexactlydoyousmell?”“Somethingbad,”Tysonanswered.“Great,”Annabethgrumbled.“Thatclearsitup.”Wecameoutsideon theswimmingpool level.Therewererowsofempty

deck chairs and a bar closed off with a chain curtain. The water in the poolglowedeerily,sloshingbackandforthfromthemotionoftheship.

Above us fore and aftweremore levels-a climbingwall, a putt-putt golfcourse,arevolvingrestaurant,butnosignoflife.

And yet… I sensed something familiar. Something dangerous. I had thefeeling that if I weren’t so tired and burned out on adrenaline from our longnight,Imightbeabletoputanametowhatwaswrong.

“Weneedahidingplace,”Isaid.“Somewheresafetosleep.”“Sleep,”Annabethagreedwearily.We explored a fewmore corridors until we found an empty suite on the

ninthlevel.Thedoorwasopen,whichstruckmeasweird.Therewasabasketofchocolate goodies on the table, an iced-down bottle of sparkling cider on thenightstand, and amint on the pillowwith a handwritten note that said: Enjoyyourcruise!

WeopenedourduffelbagsforthefirsttimeandfoundthatHermesreallyhad thought of everything-extra clothes, toiletries, camp rations, a Ziploc bagfull of cash, a leather pouch full of golden drachmas. He’d evenmanaged topack Tyson’s oilcloth with his tools and metal bits, and Annabeth’s cap ofinvisibility,whichmadethembothfeelalotbetter.

“I’llbenextdoor,”Annabethsaid.“Youguysdon’tdrinkoreatanything.”“Youthinkthisplaceisenchanted?”Shefrowned.“Idon’tknow.Somethingisn’tright.Just…becareful.”Welockedourdoors.Tyson crashed on the couch. He tinkered for a few minutes on his

metalworkingproject-whichhestillwouldn’tshowme-butsoonenoughhewasyawning.Hewrappeduphisoilclothandpassedout.

Ilayonthebedandstaredouttheporthole.IthoughtIheardvoicesoutinthehallway,likewhispering.Iknewthatcouldn’tbe.We’dwalkedallovertheshipandhadseennobody.Butthevoiceskeptmeawake.TheyremindedmeofmytriptotheUnderworld-thewaythespiritsofthedeadsoundedastheydriftedpast.

Finallymywearinessgotthebestofme.Ifellasleep…andhadmyworst

dreamyet.Iwasstandinginacavernattheedgeofanenormouspit.Iknewtheplace

toowell.TheentrancetoTartarus.AndIrecognizedthecoldlaughthatechoedfromthedarknessbelow.

Ifitisn’ttheyounghero.Thevoicewaslikeaknifebladescrapingacrossstone.Onhiswaytoanothergreatvictory.

IwantedtoshoutatKronostoleavemealone.IwantedtodrawRiptideandstrike him down. But I couldn’tmove.And even if I could, how could I killsomething that had already been destroyed-chopped to pieces and cast intoeternaldarkness?

Don’t let me stop you, the titan said. Perhaps this time, when you fail,you’ll wonder if it’s worthwhile slaving for the gods. How exactly has yourfathershownhisappreciationlately?

Hislaughterfilledthecavern,andsuddenlythescenechanged.Itwasadifferentcave-Grover’sbedroomprisonintheCyclops’slair.Grover was sitting at the loom in his soiled wedding dress, madly

unravelingthethreadsoftheunfinishedbridaltrain.“Honeypie!”themonstershoutedfrombehindtheboulder.Groveryelpedandbeganweavingthethreadsbacktogether.Theroomshookastheboulderwaspushedaside.Loominginthedoorway

wasaCyclopssohugehemadeTysonlookverticallychallenged.Hehadjaggedyellowteethandgnarledhandsasbigasmywholebody.HeworeafadedpurpleT-shirtthatsaidWORLDSHEEPEXPO2001.Hemust’vebeenatleastfifteenfeet tall,but themost startling thingwashisenormousmilkyeye, scarredandwebbedwithcataracts. Ifhewasn’tcompletelyblind,hehad tobeprettydarnclose.

“Whatareyoudoing?”themonsterdemanded.“Nothing!”Groversaidinhisfalsettovoice.“Justweavingmybridaltrain,

asyoucansee.”The Cyclops stuck one hand into the room and groped around until he

foundtheloom.Hepawedatthecloth.“Ithasn’tgottenanylonger!”“Oh,um,yesithas,dearest.See?I’veaddedatleastaninch.”“Toomany delays!” themonster bellowed. Then he sniffed the air. “You

smellgood!Likegoats!”“Oh.”Groverforcedaweakgiggle.“Doyoulikeit?It’sEaudeChevre.I

woreitjustforyou.”“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,butheleftGroverto

hisweavingandrolledtheboulderbackintoplace.Groverclosedhiseyesandtookashakybreath,tryingtocalmhisnerves.“Hurry,Percy,”hemuttered.“Please,please,please!”*Iwoke toa ship’swhistleandavoiceon the intercom-someguywithan

Australianaccentwhosoundedwaytoohappy.“Good morning, passengers! We’ll be at sea all day today. Excellent

weatherforthepoolsidemamboparty!Don’tforgetmillion-dollarbingointheKraken Lounge at one o’clock, and for our special guests, disembowelingpracticeonthePromenade!”

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

feet so far over the edge theywere in thebathroom. “Thehappyman said…bowlingpractice?”

I hoped he was right, but then there was an urgent knock on the suite’sinterior door. Annabeth stuck her head in-her blond hair in a rat’s nest.“Disembowelingpractice?”

Oncewewerealldressed,weventuredoutintotheshipandweresurprisedto see other people.A dozen senior citizenswere heading to breakfast.A dadwas taking his kids to the pool for a morning swim. Crewmembers in crispwhiteuniformsstrolledthedeck,tippingtheirhatstothepassengers.

Nobodyaskedwhowewere.Nobodypaidusmuchattention.Buttherewassomethingwrong.

Asthefamilyofswimmerspassedus, thedadtoldhiskids:“Weareonacruise.Wearehavingfun.”

“Yes,”histhreekidssaidinunison,theirexpressionsblank.“Wearehavingablast.Wewillswiminthepool.”

Theywanderedoff.“Good morning,” a crew member told us, his eyes glazed. “We are all

enjoyingourselvesaboardthePrincessAndromeda.Haveaniceday.”Hedriftedaway.

“Percy, this isweird,”Annabethwhispered. “They’re all in somekindoftrance.”

Thenwepassedacafeteriaandsawourfirstmonster.Itwasahellhound-ablackmastiffwithitsfrontpawsuponthebuffet lineanditsmuzzleburiedinthe scrambled eggs. Itmust’vebeenyoung,because itwas small compared tomost-nobiggerthanagrizzlybear.Still,mybloodturnedcold.I’dalmostgottenkilledbyoneofthosebefore.

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

“Nothungryanymore,”Tysonmurmured.BeforeAnnabeth or I could reply, a reptilian voice came from down the

corridor,“Ssssixmorejoinedyesssterday.”Annabethgesturedfranticallytowardthenearesthidingplace-thewomen’s

room-andallthreeofusduckedinside.Iwassofreakedoutitdidn’tevenoccurtometobeembarrassed.

Something-ormore like twosomethings-slitheredpast thebathroomdoor,makingsoundslikesandpaperagainstthecarpet.

“Yesss,”asecondreptilianvoicesaid.“Hedrawssssthem.Ssssoonwewillbesssstrong.”

The things slithered into thecafeteriawithacoldhissing thatmighthavebeensnakelaughter.

Annabethlookedatme.“Wehavetogetoutofhere.”“YouthinkIwanttobeinthegirls’restroom?”“Imeantheship,Percy!Wehavetogetofftheship.”“Smellsbad,”Tysonagreed.“Anddogseatalltheeggs.Annabethisright.

Wemustleavetherestroomandship.”I shuddered. If Annabeth and Tyson were actually agreeing about

something,IfiguredI’dbetterlisten.Then I heard another voice outside-one that chilled me worse than any

monster’s.“-onlyamatteroftime.Don’tpushme,Agrius!”ItwasLuke,beyondadoubt.Icouldneverforgethisvoice.“I’m not pushing you!” another guy growled. His voice was deeper and

evenangrierthanLuke’s.“I’mjustsaying,ifthisgambledoesn’tpayoff-““It’llpayoff,”Lukesnapped.“They’lltakethebait.Now,come,we’vegot

togettotheadmiraltysuiteandcheckonthecasket.”Theirvoicesrecededdownthecorridor.Tysonwhimpered.“Leavenow?”

AnnabethandIexchangedlooksandcametoasilentagreement.“Wecan’t,”ItoldTyson.“We have to find out what Luke is up to,” Annabeth agreed. “And if

possible,we’regoingtobeathimup,bindhiminchains,anddraghimtoMountOlympus.”

NINE

IHAVETHEWORST

FAMILYREUNIONEVER

Annabethvolunteeredtogoalonesinceshehadthecapofinvisibility,butIconvincedheritwastoodangerous.Eitherweallwenttogether,ornobodywent.

“Nobody!”Tysonvoted.“Please?”But in theendhecamealong,nervouslychewingonhishugefingernails.

Westoppedatourcabin longenough togatherourstuff.Wefiguredwhateverhappened,wewouldnotbestayinganothernightaboardthezombiecruiseship,eveniftheydidhavemillion-dollarbingo.ImadesureRiptidewasinmypocketandthevitaminsandthermosfromHermeswereatthetopofmybag.Ididn’twantTyson to carry everything, but he insisted, andAnnabeth toldme not toworry about it. Tyson could carry three full duffel bags over his shoulder aseasilyasIcouldcarryabackpack.

Wesneaked through thecorridors, following theship’sYOUAREHEREsigns toward the admiralty suite. Annabeth scouted ahead invisibly. We hidwheneversomeonepassedby,butmostofthepeoplewesawwerejustglassy-eyedzombiepassengers.

Aswe cameup the stairs todeck thirteen,where the admiralty suitewassupposedtobe,Annabethhissed,“Hide!”andshovedusintoasupplycloset.

Iheardacoupleofguyscomingdownthehall.“YouseethatAethiopiandrakoninthecargohold?”oneofthemsaid.Theotherlaughed.“Yeah,it’sawesome.”Annabethwasstillinvisible,butshesqueezedmyarmhard.IgotafeelingI

shouldknowthatsecondguy’svoice.“I hear they got twomore coming,” the familiar voice said. “They keep

arrivingatthisrate,oh,man-nocontest!”Thevoicesfadeddownthecorridor.“ThatwasChrisRodriguez!”Annabethtookoffhercapandturnedvisible.

“Youremember-fromCabinEleven.”I sort of recalled Chris from the summer before. He was one of those

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

Annabethshookherhead,clearlytroubled.Wekeptgoingdown the corridor. I didn’tneedmaps anymore toknow I

wasgettingclosetoLuke.Isensedsomethingcoldandunpleasant-thepresenceofevil.

“Percy.”Annabethstoppedsuddenly.“Look.”Shestoodinfrontofaglasswalllookingdownintothemultistorycanyon

thatranthroughthemiddleoftheship.AtthebottomwasthePromenade-amallfullofshops-butthat’snotwhathadcaughtAnnabeth’sattention.

A group ofmonsters had assembled in front of the candy store: a dozenLaistrygonian giants like the ones who’d attacked me with dodge balls, twohellhounds, and a few even stranger creatures-humanoid females with twinserpenttailsinsteadoflegs.

“ScythianDracaenae,”Annabethwhispered.“Dragonwomen.”ThemonstersmadeasemicirclearoundayoungguyinGreekarmorwho

washackingonastrawdummy.AlumpformedinmythroatwhenIrealizedthedummywaswearing anorangeCampHalf-BloodT-shirt.Aswewatched, theguy in armor stabbed the dummy through its belly and ripped upward. Strawfleweverywhere.Themonsterscheeredandhowled.

Annabethsteppedawayfromthewindow.Herfacewasashen.“Comeon,” I toldher, trying tosoundbraver than I felt. “Thesoonerwe

findLukethebetter.”Attheendofthehallwayweredoubleoakdoorsthatlookedliketheymust

lead somewhere important. When we were thirty feet away, Tyson stopped.“Voicesinside.”

“Youcanhearthatfar?”Iasked.Tyson closed his eye like he was concentrating hard. Then his voice

changed,becomingahuskyapproximationofLuke’s.“-theprophecyourselves.Thefoolswon’tknowwhichwaytoturn.”

Before I could react, Tyson’s voice changed again, becoming deeper andgruffer,liketheotherguywe’dheardtalkingtoLukeoutsidethecafeteria.“Youreallythinktheoldhorsemanisgoneforgood?”

TysonlaughedLuke’slaugh.“Theycan’ttrusthim.Notwiththeskeletonsinhiscloset.Thepoisoningofthetreewasthefinalstraw.”

Annabethshivered.“Stopthat,Tyson!Howdoyoudothat?It’screepy.”Tysonopenedhiseyeandlookedpuzzled.“Justlistening.”“Keepgoing,”Isaid.“Whatelsearetheysaying?”Tysonclosedhiseyeagain.He hissed in the gruff man’s voice: “Quiet!” Then Luke’s voice,

whispering:“Areyousure?”“Yes,”Tysonsaidinthegruffvoice.“Rightoutside.”Toolate,Irealizedwhatwashappening.I justhadtimetosay,“Run!”whenthedoorsof thestateroomburstopen

and there was Luke, flanked by two hairy giants armed with javelins, their

bronzetipsaimedrightatourchests.“Well,”Lukesaidwithacrookedsmile.“Ifitisn’tmytwofavoritecousins.

Comerightin.”Thestateroomwasbeautiful,anditwashorrible.Thebeautifulpart:Hugewindowscurvedalongthebackwall,lookingout

over the sternof the ship.Green seaandblue sky stretchedall theway to thehorizon.APersianrugcoveredthefloor.Twoplushsofasoccupiedthemiddleoftheroom,withacanopiedbedinonecornerandamahoganydiningtableintheother.Thetablewasloadedwithfood-pizzaboxes,bottlesofsoda,andastackofroastbeefsandwichesonasilverplatter.

Thehorriblepart:Onavelvetdaisat thebackoftheroomlayaten-foot-longgoldencasket.Asarcophagus,engravedwithAncientGreekscenesofcitiesinflamesandheroesdyinggrislydeaths.Despitethesunlightstreamingthroughthewindows,thecasketmadethewholeroomfeelcold.

“Well,”Luke said, spreading his arms proudly. “A little nicer thanCabinEleven,huh?”

He’d changed since the last summer. Instead ofBermuda shorts and aT-shirt, hewore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers.His sandyhair,whichusedtobesounruly,wasnowclippedshort.Helookedlikeanevilmalemodel,showingoffwhatthefashionablecollege-agevillainwaswearingtoHarvardthisyear.

Hestillhadthescarunderhiseye-ajaggedwhitelinefromhisbattlewithadragon.Andproppedagainstthesofawashismagicalsword,Backbiter,glintingstrangely with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade that could kill bothmortalsandmonsters.

“Sit,” he told us. He waved his hand and three dining chairs scootedthemselvesintothecenteroftheroom.

Noneofussat.Luke’slargefriendswerestillpointingtheirjavelinsatus.Theylookedlike

twins,but theyweren’thuman.Theystoodabouteight feet tall, forone thing,andworeonlybluejeans,probablybecausetheirenormouschestswerealreadyshag-carpeted with thick brown fur. They had claws for fingernails, feet likepaws.Theirnosesweresnoutlike,andtheirteethwereallpointedcanines.

“Wherearemymanners?”Luke said smoothly. “Thesearemyassistants,AgriusandOreius.Perhapsyou’veheardofthem.”

Isaidnothing.Despitethejavelinspointedatme,itwasn’tthebeartwinswhoscaredme.

I’dimaginedmeetingLukeagainmanytimessincehe’dtriedtokillmelastsummer. I’d picturedmyself boldly standing up to him, challenging him to a

duel. But now that we were face-to-face, I could barely stopmy hands fromshaking.

“Youdon’t knowAgrius andOreius’s story?”Lukeasked. “Theirmother…well,it’ssad,really.Aphroditeorderedtheyoungwomantofallinlove.SherefusedandrantoArtemisforhelp.Artemisletherbecomeoneofhermaidenhuntresses,butAphroditegotherrevenge.Shebewitchedtheyoungwomanintofallinginlovewithabear.WhenArtemisfoundout,sheabandonedthegirl indisgust.Typicalofthegods,wouldn’tyousay?Theyfightwithoneanotherandthepoorhumansgetcaughtinthemiddle.Thegirl’stwinsonshere,AgriusandOreius,haveno love forOlympus.They likehalf-bloodswell enough, though…”

“Forlunch,”Agriusgrowled.HisgruffvoicewastheoneI’dheardtalkingwithLukeearlier.

“Hehe! Hehe!” His brother Oreius laughed, licking his furlined lips. Hekept laughing like hewas having an asthmatic fit until Luke andAgrius bothstaredathim.

“Shutup,youidiot!”Agriusgrowled.“Gopunishyourself!”Oreius whimpered. He trudged over to the corner of the room, slumped

ontoastool,andbangedhisforeheadagainstthediningtable,makingthesilverplatesrattle.

Luke acted like this was perfectly normal behavior. He made himselfcomfortable on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Well,Percy,we let you survive another year. I hopeyou appreciated it.How’syourmom?How’sschool?”

“YoupoisonedThalia’stree.”Luke sighed. “Right to the point, eh?Okay, sure I poisoned the tree. So

what?”“How could you?” Annabeth sounded so angry I thought she’d explode.

“Thaliasavedyourlife!Ourlives!Howcouldyoudishonorher-““I didn’t dishonor her!” Luke snapped. “The gods dishonored her,

Annabeth!IfThaliawerealive,she’dbeonmyside.”“Liar!”“Ifyouknewwhatwascoming,you’dunderstand-““I understand you want to destroy the camp!” she yelled. “You’re a

monster!”Luke shook his head. “The gods have blinded you. Can’t you imagine a

worldwithout them,Annabeth?What good is that ancient history you study?Three thousand years of baggage!TheWest is rotten to the core. It has to bedestroyed.Joinme!Wecanstarttheworldanew.Wecoulduseyourintelligence,

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

alongonsomehopelessquesttosavethecamp.Half-BloodHillwillbeoverrunbymonsterswithinthemonth.Theheroeswhosurvivewillhavenochoicebuttojoinusorbehuntedtoextinction.Youreallywanttobeonalosingteam…withcompanylikethis?”LukepointedatTyson.

“Hey!”Isaid.“TravelingwithaCyclops,”Lukechided.“TalkaboutdishonoringThalia’s

memory!I’msurprisedatyou,Annabeth.Youofallpeople-““Stopit!”sheshouted.Ididn’tknowwhatLukewastalkingabout,butAnnabethburiedherhead

inherhandslikeshewasabouttocry.“Leaveheralone,”Isaid.“AndleaveTysonoutthis.”Lukelaughed.“Oh,yeah,Iheard.Yourfatherclaimedhim.”Imusthavelookedsurprised,becauseLukesmiled.“Yes,Percy,Iknowall

aboutthat.AndaboutyourplantofindtheFleece.Whatwerethosecoordinates,again… 30, 31, 75, 12? You see, I still have friends at camp who keep meposted.”

“Spies,youmean.”He shrugged. “Howmany insults fromyour father canyou stand,Percy?

Youthinkhe’sgratefultoyou?YouthinkPoseidoncaresforyouanymorethanhecaresforthismonster?”

Tysonclenchedhisfistsandmadearumblingsounddowninhisthroat.Luke just chuckled.“Thegodsare sousingyou,Percy.Doyouhaveany

ideawhat’s in store for you if you reach your sixteenth birthday?HasChironeventoldyoutheprophecy?”

Iwantedtoget inLuke’sfaceandtellhimoff,butasusual,heknewjusthowtothrowmeoffbalance.

Sixteenthbirthday?Imean,IknewChironhadreceivedaprophecyfromtheOraclemanyyears

ago.Iknewpartofitwasaboutme.But, ifIreachedmysixteenthbirthday?Ididn’tlikethesoundofthat.

“IknowwhatIneedtoknow,”Imanaged.“Like,whomyenemiesare.”“Thenyou’reafool.”Tysonsmashedthenearestdiningchairtosplinters.“Percyisnotafool!”Before I could stop him, he charged Luke. His fists came down toward

Luke’shead-adoubleoverheadblowthatwould’veknockedaholeintitanium-but the bear twins intercepted. They each caught one of Tyson’s arms and

stopped him cold. They pushed him back and Tyson stumbled. He fell to thecarpetsohardthedeckshook.

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

“Luke,”Icutin.“Listentome.Yourfathersentus.”Hisfaceturnedthecolorofpepperoni.“Don’t-even-mentionhim.”“Hetoldustotakethisboat.Ithoughtitwasjustforaride,buthesentus

heretofindyou.Hetoldmehewon’tgiveuponyou,nomatterhowangryyouare.”

“Angry?”Lukeroared.“Giveuponme?Heabandonedme,Percy!IwantOlympusdestroyed!Everythronecrushedtorubble!YoutellHermesit’sgoingtohappen,too.Eachtimeahalf-bloodjoinsus,theOlympiansgrowweakerandwegrowstronger.Hegrowsstronger.”Lukepointedtothegoldsarcophagus.

The box creeped me out, but I was determined not to show it. “So?” Idemanded.“What’ssospecial…”

Then ithitme,whatmightbe inside thesarcophagus.The temperature intheroomseemedtodroptwentydegrees.“Whoa,youdon’tmean-“

“Heisre-forming,”Lukesaid.“Littlebylittle,we’recallinghislifeforceout of the pit.With every recruitwho pledges our cause, another small pieceappears-“

“That’sdisgusting!”Annabethsaid.Luke sneered at her. “Your mother was born from Zeus’s split skull,

Annabeth.Iwouldn’ttalk.Soontherewillbeenoughofthetitanlordsothatwecanmakehimwholeagain.Wewillpiecetogetheranewbodyforhim,aworkworthyoftheforgesofHephaestus.”

“You’reinsane,”Annabethsaid.“Joinusandyou’llbe rewarded.Wehavepowerful friends,sponsors rich

enough to buy this cruise ship andmuchmore.Percy, yourmotherwill neverhave towork again.You can buy her amansion.You can have power, fame-whateveryouwant.Annabeth,youcanrealizeyourdreamofbeinganarchitect.Youcanbuildamonumenttolastathousandyears.Atempletothelordsofthenextage!”

“GotoTartarus,”shesaid.Lukesighed.“Ashame.”He picked up something that looked like aTV remote and pressed a red

button.Within seconds the door of the stateroom opened and two uniformedcrewmemberscamein,armedwithnightsticks.Theyhadthesameglassy-eyedlookastheothermortalsI’dseen,butIhadafeelingthiswouldn’tmakethemanylessdangerousinafight.

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

foolsbelowandshowthemhowit’sdone.”Oreiusgrinnedstupidly.“Hehe!Hehe!”“Let me go, too,” Agrius grumbled. “My brother is worthless. That

Cyclops-““Is no threat,” Luke said. He glanced back at the golden casket, as if

somethingweretroublinghim.“Agrius,stayhere.Wehaveimportantmatterstodiscuss.”

“But-““Oreius,don’tfailme.Stayintheholdtomakesurethedrakonisproperly

fed.”Oreius prodded us with his javelin and herded us out of the stateroom,

followedbythetwohumansecurityguards.AsIwalkeddownthecorridorwithOreius’sjavelinpokingmeintheback,

IthoughtaboutwhatLukehadsaid-thatthebeartwinstogetherwereamatchforTyson’sstrength.Butmaybeseparately…

We exited the corridor amidships and walked across an open deck linedwithlifeboats.Iknewtheshipwellenoughtorealizethiswouldbeourlastlookatsunlight.Oncewegottotheotherside,we’dtaketheelevatordownintothehold,andthatwouldbeit.

IlookedatTysonandsaid,“Now.”Thank thegods,heunderstood.He turnedandsmackedOreius thirty feet

backward into the swimming pool, right into themiddle of the zombie touristfamily.

“Ah!”thekidsyelledinunison.“Wearenothavingablastinthepool!”Oneof thesecurityguardsdrewhisnightstick,butAnnabethknockedthe

wind out of himwith awell-placed kick. The other guard ran for the nearestalarmbox.

“Stophim!”Annabethyelled,butitwastoolate.JustbeforeIbangedhimonheadwithadeckchair,hehitthealarm.Redlightsflashed.Sirenswailed.“Lifeboat!”Iyelled.Weranforthenearestone.By the timewe got the cover off,monsters andmore securitymenwere

swarming the deck, pushing aside tourists and waiters with trays of tropicaldrinks. A guy in Greek armor drew his sword and charged, but slipped in apuddleof piña colada.Laistrygonian archers assembledon thedeck aboveus,

notchingarrowsintheirenormousbows.“Howdoyoulaunchthisthing?”screamedAnnabeth.A hellhound leaped at me, but Tyson slammed it aside with a fire

extinguisher.“Getin!”Iyelled.IuncappedRiptideandslashedthefirstvolleyofarrows

outoftheair.Anysecondwewouldbeoverwhelmed.The lifeboatwashangingover the sideof the ship,highabove thewater.

AnnabethandTysonwerehavingnoluckwiththereleasepulley.Ijumpedinbesidethem.“Holdon!”Iyelled,andIcuttheropes.A shower of arrows whistled over our heads as we free-fell toward the

ocean.

TEN

WEHITCHARIDEWITH

DEADCONFEDERATES

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

totheboatstrapsfordearlife,herhairflyingstraightuplikeatorch.But Tyson understood. Hemanaged to openmy duffel bag and take out

Hermes’smagicalthermoswithoutlosinghisgriponitortheboat.Arrowsandjavelinswhistledpastus.IgrabbedthethermosandhopedIwasdoingtherightthing.“Hangon!”“Iamhangingon!”Annabethyelled.“Tighter!”Ihookedmyfeetunder theboat’s inflatablebench,andasTysongrabbed

Annabethandmeby thebacksofour shirts, Igave the thermoscapaquarterturn.

Instantly,awhitesheetofwindjettedoutofthethermosandpropelledussideways,turningourdownwardplummetintoaforty-five-degreecrashlanding.

Thewindseemedtolaughasitshotfromthethermos,likeitwasgladtobefree.Aswehittheocean,webumpedonce,twice,skippinglikeastone,thenwewerewhizzingalong likeaspeedboat, salt spray inour facesandnothingbutseaahead.

Iheardawailofoutragefromtheshipbehindus,butwewerealreadyoutofweaponrange.ThePrincessAndromedafadedtothesizeofawhitetoyboatinthedistance,andthenitwasgone.

Asweracedoverthesea,AnnabethandItriedtosendanIris-messagetoChiron.We figured it was important we let somebody know what Luke wasdoing,andwedidn’tknowwhoelsetotrust.

Thewindfromthethermosstirredupaniceseaspraythatmadearainbowin the sunlight-perfect for an Iris-message-but our connection was still poor.WhenAnnabeththrewagolddrachmaintothemistandprayedfortherainbowgoddesstoshowusChiron,hisfaceappearedallright,buttherewassomekindofweirdstrobelightflashinginthebackgroundandrockmusicblaring,likehewasatadanceclub.

We toldhimabout sneakingaway fromcamp,andLukeand thePrincessAndromedaandthegoldenboxforKronos’sremains,butbetweenthenoiseonhisendandtherushingwindandwateronourend,I’mnotsurehowmuchheheard.

“Percy,”Chironyelled,“youhavetowatchoutfor-“

Hisvoicewasdrownedoutbyloudshoutingbehindhim-abunchofvoiceswhoopingituplikeComanchewarriors.

“What?”Iyelled.“Curse my relatives!” Chiron ducked as a plate flew over his head and

shatteredsomewhereoutofsight.“Annabeth,youshouldn’thaveletPercyleavecamp!ButifyoudogettheFleece-“

“Yeah,baby!”somebodybehindChironyelled.“Woo-hoooooo!”Themusicgotcrankedup,subwooferssolouditmadeourboatvibrate.“-Miami,”Chironwasyelling.“I’lltrytokeepwatch-“Ourmistyscreensmashedapartlikesomeoneontheothersidehadthrown

abottleatit,andChironwasgone.Anhour laterwespotted land-a longstretchofbeach linedwithhigh-rise

hotels.Thewaterbecamecrowdedwithfishingboatsandtankers.Acoastguardcruiserpassedonourstarboardside,thenturnedlikeitwantedasecondlook.Iguess it isn’t every day they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going ahundredknotsanhour,mannedbythreekids.

“That’s Virginia Beach!” Annabeth said as we approached the shoreline.“Ohmygods,howdidthePrincessAndromedatravelsofarovernight?That’slike-“

“Fivehundredandthirtynauticalmiles,”Isaid.Shestaredatme.“Howdidyouknowthat?”“I-I’mnotsure.”Annabeththoughtforamoment.“Percy,what’sourposition?”“36 degrees, 44 minutes north, 76 degrees, 2 minutes west,” I said

immediately.ThenIshookmyhead.“Whoa.HowdidIknowthat?”“Becauseofyourdad,”Annabethguessed.“Whenyou’reatsea,youhave

perfectbearings.Thatissocool.”Iwasn’tsureaboutthat.Ididn’twanttobeahumanGPSunit.ButbeforeI

couldsayanything,Tysontappedmyshoulder.“Otherboatiscoming.”I looked back. The coast guard vesselwas definitely on our tail now. Its

lightswereflashinganditwasgainingspeed.“Wecan’tletthemcatchus,”Isaid.“They’llasktoomanyquestions.”“KeepgoingintoChesapeakeBay,”Annabethsaid.“Iknowaplacewecan

hide.”I didn’t askwhat shemeant, or how she knew the area sowell. I risked

loosening the thermos cap a little more, and a fresh burst of wind sent usrocketingaround thenorthern tipofVirginiaBeach intoChesapeakeBay.Thecoastguardboatfell fartherandfartherbehind.Wedidn’tslowdownuntil theshoresofthebaynarrowedoneitherside,andIrealizedwe’denteredthemouth

ofariver.Icouldfeelthechangefromsaltwatertofreshwater.SuddenlyIwastired

and frazzled, like Iwascomingdownoff a sugarhigh. Ididn’tknowwhere Iwasanymore,orwhichwaytosteertheboat.ItwasagoodthingAnnabethwasdirectingme.

“There,”shesaid.“Pastthatsandbar.”We veered into a swampy area choked with marsh grass. I beached the

lifeboatatthefootofagiantcypress.Vine-coveredtreesloomedaboveus.Insectschirredinthewoods.Theair

was muggy and hot, and steam curled off the river. Basically, it wasn’tManhattan,andIdidn’tlikeit.

“Comeon,”Annabethsaid.“It’sjustdownthebank.”“Whatis?”Iasked.“Just follow.”Shegrabbedaduffelbag.“Andwe’dbettercover theboat.

Wedon’twanttodrawattention.”After burying the lifeboatwithbranches,Tyson and I followedAnnabeth

alongtheshore,ourfeetsinkinginredmud.Asnakeslitheredpastmyshoeanddisappearedintothegrass.

“Not a good place,” Tyson said. He swatted the mosquitoes that wereformingabuffetlineonhisarm.

Afteranotherfewminutes,Annabethsaid,“Here.”All I sawwasapatchofbrambles.ThenAnnabethmovedasideawoven

circleofbranches,likeadoor,andIrealizedIwaslookingintoacamouflagedshelter.

Theinsidewasbigenoughforthree,evenwithTysonbeingthethird.Thewalls were woven from plant material, like a Native American hut, but theylookedprettywaterproof.Stackedinthecornerwaseverythingyoucouldwantforacampout-sleepingbags,blankets,anicechest,andakerosenelamp.Therewere demigod provisions, too-bronze javelin tips, a quiver full of arrows, anextrasword,andaboxofambrosia.Theplacesmelledmusty, like ithadbeenvacantforalongtime.

“Ahalf-bloodhideout.”IlookedatAnnabethinawe.Youmadethisplace?”“ThaliaandI,”shesaidquietly.“AndLuke.”That shouldn’t have bothered me. I mean, I knew Thalia and Luke had

takencareofAnnabethwhenshewaslittle.Iknewthethreeofthemhadbeenrunawaystogether,hidingfrommonsters,survivingontheirownbeforeGroverfound themand tried to get them toHalf-BloodHill.ButwheneverAnnabethtalked about the time she’d spent with them, I kind of felt… I don’t know.Uncomfortable?

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

evenrememberswheretheyare.Orcares.”Shethrewherselfdownontheblanketsandstartedgoingthroughherduffel

bag.Herbodylanguagemadeitprettyclearshedidn’twanttotalk.“Um,Tyson?”Isaid.“Wouldyoumindscoutingaroundoutside?Like,look

forawildernessconveniencestoreorsomething?”“Conveniencestore?”“Yeah,forsnacks.Powdereddonutsorsomething.Justdon’tgotoofar.”“Powdereddonuts,”Tysonsaidearnestly.“Iwilllookforpowdereddonuts

inthewilderness.”Heheadedoutsideandstartedcalling,“Here,donuts!”Once he was gone, I sat down across from Annabeth. “Hey, I’m sorry

about,youknow,seeingLuke.”“It’s not your fault.” She unsheathed her knife and started cleaning the

bladewitharag.“Heletusgotooeasily,”Isaid.I hoped I’d been imagining it, butAnnabeth nodded. “Iwas thinking the

same thing.Whatweoverheardhimsayabout agamble, and ‘they’ll take thebait’…Ithinkhewastalkingaboutus.”

“TheFleeceisthebait?OrGrover?”Shestudiedtheedgeofherknife.“Idon’tknow,Percy.Maybehewantsthe

Fleeceforhimself.Maybehe’shopingwe’lldothehardworkandthenhecanstealitfromus.Ijustcan’tbelievehewouldpoisonthetree.”

“Whatdidhemean,”Iasked,“thatThaliawould’vebeenonhisside?”“He’swrong.”“Youdon’tsoundsure.”Annabethglaredatme,andIstartedtowishIhadn’taskedheraboutthis

whileshewasholdingaknife.“Percy, you knowwhoyou remindmeofmost?Thalia.Youguys are so

much alike it’s scary. I mean, either you would’ve been best friends or youwould’vestrangledeachother.”

“Let’sgowith‘bestfriends.’”“Thalia got angry with her dad sometimes. So do you. Would you turn

againstOlympusbecauseofthat?”Istaredatthequiverofarrowsinthecorner.“No.”“Okay,then.Neitherwouldshe.Luke’swrong.”Annabethstuckherknife

bladeintothedirt.

IwantedtoaskherabouttheprophecyLukehadmentionedandwhatithadtodowithmysixteenthbirthday.ButIfiguredshewouldn’ttellme.Chironhadmade it pretty clear that I wasn’t allowed to hear it until the gods decidedotherwise.

“Sowhat did Lukemean about Cyclopes?” I asked. “He said you of allpeople-“

“Iknowwhathe said.He…hewas talking about the real reasonThaliadied.”

Iwaited,notsurewhattosay.Annabethdrewashakybreath.“YoucannevertrustaCyclops,Percy.Six

yearsago,onthenightGroverwasleadingustoHalf-BloodHill-“Shewasinterruptedwhenthedoorofthehutcreakedopen.Tysoncrawled

in.“Powdereddonuts!”hesaidproudly,holdingupapastrybox.Annabethstaredathim.“Wheredidyouget that?We’re in themiddleof

thewilderness.There’snothingaroundfor-““Fiftyfeet,”Tysonsaid.“MonsterDonutshop-justoverthehill!”“Thisisbad,”Annabethmuttered.Wewerecrouchingbehindatree,staringatthedonutshopinthemiddleof

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

MONSTERDONUT

A cartoon ogrewas taking a bite out of theO inMONSTER.The placesmelledgood,likefresh-bakedchocolatedonuts.

“Thisshouldn’tbehere,”Annabethwhispered.“It’swrong.”“What?”Iasked.“It’sadonutshop.”“Shhh!”“Why are we whispering? Tyson went in and bought a dozen. Nothing

happenedtohim.”“He’samonster.”“Aw,c’mon,Annabeth.MonsterDonutdoesn’tmeanmonsters!It’sachain.

We’vegottheminNewYork.”“Achain,”sheagreed.“Anddon’tyouthinkit’sstrangethatoneappeared

immediatelyafteryoutoldTysontogetdonuts?Righthereinthemiddleofthewoods?”

I thought about it. It did seem a little weird, but, I mean, donut shopsweren’trealhighonmylistofsinisterforces.

“Itcouldbeanest,”Annabethexplained.Tysonwhimpered. I doubt he understoodwhatAnnabethwas saying any

better than Idid,buther tonewasmakinghimnervous.He’dplowed throughhalfadozendonuts fromhisboxandwasgettingpowderedsugaralloverhisface.

“Anestforwhat?”Iasked.“Haven’t you ever wondered how franchise stores pop up so fast?” she

asked. “One day there’s nothing and then the next day-boom, there’s a newburgerplaceor a coffee shoporwhatever?First a single store, then two, thenfour-exactreplicasspreadingacrossthecountry?”

“Um,no.Neverthoughtaboutit.”“Percy, someof thechainsmultiplyso fastbecauseall their locationsare

magicallylinkedtothelifeforceofamonster.SomechildrenofHermesfiguredouthowtodoitbackinthe1950s.Theybreed-“

Shefroze.“What?”Idemanded.“Theybreedwhat?”“No-sudden-moves,” Annabeth said, like her life depended on it. “Very

slowly,turnaround.”Then I heard it: a scraping noise, like something large dragging its belly

throughtheleaves.

I turned and saw a rhino-size thing moving through the shadows of thetrees.Itwashissing,itsfronthalfwrithinginalldifferentdirections.Icouldn’tunderstand what I was seeing at first. Then I realized the thing had multiplenecks-at least seven, each topped with a hissing reptilian head. Its skin wasleathery,andundereachneckitworeaplasticbibthatread:I’MAMONSTERDONUTKID!

I took out my ballpoint pen, but Annabeth locked eyes withme-a silentwarning.Notyet.

Iunderstood.A lotofmonstershave terribleeyesight. Itwaspossible theHydra might pass us by. But if I uncapped my sword now, the bronze glowwouldcertainlygetitsattention.

Wewaited.TheHydrawasonlya fewfeetaway. It seemed tobesniffing theground

and the trees like itwashunting forsomething.ThenInoticed that twoof theheadswere rippingapartapieceofyellowcanvas-oneofourduffelbags.Thethinghadalreadybeentoourcampsite.Itwasfollowingourscent.

My heart pounded. I’d seen a stuffedHydra-head trophy at camp before,but thatdidnothing topreparemefor thereal thing.Eachheadwasdiamond-shaped, like a rattlesnake’s, but the mouths were lined with jagged rows ofsharkliketeeth.

Tyson was trembling. He stepped back and accidentally snapped a twig.Immediately,allsevenheadsturnedtowardusandhissed.

“Scatter!”Annabethyelled.Shedovetotheright.Irolledtotheleft.OneoftheHydraheadsspatanarcofgreenliquidthat

shotpastmyshoulderandsplashedagainstanelm.Thetrunksmokedandbegantodisintegrate.Thewhole tree toppled straight towardTyson,who still hadn’tmoved,petrifiedbythemonsterthatwasnowrightinfrontofhim.

“Tyson!” I tackledhimwithallmymight,knockinghimaside justas theHydralungedandthetreecrashedontopoftwoofitsheads.

The Hydra stumbled backward, yanking its heads free then wailing inoutrageat thefallen tree.Allsevenheadsshotacid,and theelmmelted intoasteamingpoolofmuck.

“Move!” I toldTyson. I ran to one side anduncappedRiptide, hoping todrawthemonster’sattention.

Itworked.The sight of celestial bronze is hateful tomostmonsters.As soon asmy

glowingbladeappeared,theHydrawhippedtowarditwithallitsheads,hissingandbaringitsteeth.

Thegoodnews:Tysonwasmomentarilyoutofdanger.Thebadnews:Iwas

abouttobemeltedintoapuddleofgoo.Oneoftheheadssnappedatmeexperimentally.Withoutthinking,Iswung

mysword.“No!”Annabethyelled.Toolate.IslicedtheHydra’sheadcleanoff.Itrolledawayintothegrass,

leavingaflailingstump,whichimmediatelystoppedbleedingandbegantoswelllikeaballoon.

In a matter of seconds the wounded neck split into two necks, each ofwhichgrewafull-sizehead.NowIwaslookingataneight-headedHydra.

“Percy!”Annabethscolded.“YoujustopenedanotherMonsterDonutshopsomewhere!”

Idodgedasprayofacid.“I’mabouttodieandyou’reworriedaboutthat?Howdowekillit?”

“Fire!”Annabethsaid.“Wehavetohavefire!”Assoonasshesaidthat,Irememberedthestory.TheHydra’sheadswould

onlystopmultiplyingifweburnedthestumpsbefore theyregrew.That’swhatHeracleshaddone,anyway.Butwehadnofire.

Ibackeduptowardriver.TheHydrafollowed.Annabeth moved in on my left and tried to distract one of the heads,

parrying its teethwithherknife,but anotherhead swungsideways likea clubandknockedherintothemuck.

“No hitting my friends!” Tyson charged in, putting himself between theHydraandAnnabeth.AsAnnabethgottoherfeet,Tysonstartedsmashingatthemonsterheadswithhisfistssofastitremindedmeofthewhack-a-molegameatthearcade.ButevenTysoncouldn’tfendofftheHydraforever.

Wekeptinchingbackward,dodgingacidsplashesanddeflectingsnappingheadswithoutcuttingthemoff,butIknewwewereonlypostponingourdeaths.Eventually,wewouldmakeamistakeandthethingwouldkillus.

ThenIheardastrangesound-achug-chug-chugthatatfirstI thoughtwasmyheartbeat.Itwassopowerfulitmadetheriverbankshake.

“What’sthatnoise?”Annabethshouted,keepinghereyesontheHydra.“Steamengine,”Tysonsaid.“What?”IduckedastheHydraspatacidovermyhead.Then from the river behind us, a familiar female voice shouted: “There!

Preparethethirty-two-pounder!”Ididn’tdarelookawayfromtheHydra,butifthatwaswhoIthoughtitwas

behindus,Ifiguredwenowhadenemiesontwofronts.Agravellymalevoicesaid,“They’retooclose,m’lady!”“Damntheheroes!”thegirlsaid.“Fullsteamahead!”

“Aye,m’lady.”“Fireatwill,Captain!”AnnabethunderstoodwhatwashappeningasplitsecondbeforeIdid.She

yelled,“Hitthedirt!”andwedoveforthegroundasanearth-shatteringBOOMechoed from the river.Therewasa flashof light, acolumnof smoke,and theHydra exploded right in front of us, showeringuswith nasty green slime thatvaporizedassoonasithit,thewaymonstergutstendtodo.

“Gross!”screamedAnnabeth.“Steamship!”yelledTyson.I stood, coughing from the cloud of gunpowder smoke that was rolling

acrossthebanks.ChuggingtowardusdowntheriverwasthestrangestshipI’deverseen.It

rodelowinthewaterlikeasubmarine,itsdeckplatedwithiron.Inthemiddlewas a trapezoid-shaped casemate with slats on each side for cannons. A flagwavedfromthetop-awildboarandspearonabloodredfield.Liningthedeckwere zombies in gray uniforms-dead soldierswith shimmering faces that onlypartially covered their skulls, like the ghouls I’d seen in the UnderworldguardingHades’spalace.

Theshipwasanironclad.ACivilWarbattlecruiser.Icouldjustmakeoutthenamealongtheprowinmoss-coveredletters:CSSBirmingham.

Andstandingnexttothesmokingcannonthathadalmostkilledus,wearingfullGreekbattlearmor,wasClarisse.

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

ELEVEN

CLARISSEBLOWSUP

EVERYTHING

“Youareinsomuchtrouble,”Clarissesaid.We’d just finished a ship tour we didn’t want, through dark rooms

overcrowded with dead sailors. We’d seen the coal bunker, the boilers andengine,whichhuffedandgroanedlikeitwouldexplodeanyminute.We’dseenthepilothouseandthepowdermagazineandgunnerydeck(Clarisse’sfavorite)with twoDahlgren smoothbore cannons on the port and starboard sides and aBrooke nine-inch rifled gun fore and aft-all specially refitted to fire celestialbronzecannonballs.

Everywherewewent, deadConfederate sailors stared at us, their ghostlybeardedfacesshimmeringovertheirskulls.TheyapprovedofAnnabethbecauseshetold themshewasfromVirginia.Theywereinterestedinme, too,becausemynamewas Jackson-like theSoutherngeneral-but then I ruined it by tellingthemIwasfromNewYork.TheyallhissedandmutteredcursesaboutYankees.

Tysonwasterrifiedofthem.Allthroughthetour,heinsistedAnnabethholdhishand,whichshedidn’tlooktoothrilledabout.

Finally, we were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham captain’squarterswereaboutthesizeofawalk-incloset,butstillmuchbiggerthananyotherroomonboard.Thetablewassetwithwhitelinenandchina.Peanutbutterand jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and Dr Peppers were served by skeletalcrewmen. I didn’t want to eat anything served by ghosts, but my hungeroverruledmyfear.

“Tantalusexpelledyouforeternity,”Clarissetoldussmugly.“Mr.Dsaidifanyofyoushowyourfaceatcampagain,he’ll turnyouintosquirrelsandrunyouoverwithhisSUV.”

“Didtheygiveyouthisship?”Iasked.“‘Coursenot.Myfatherdid.”“Ares?”Clarisse sneered. “You thinkyourdaddy is theonlyonewith seapower?

The spirits on the losing side of everywar owe a tribute toAres.That’s theircurseforbeingdefeated.Iprayedtomyfatherforanavaltransportandhereitis.TheseguyswilldoanythingItellthem.Won’tyou,Captain?”

The captain stood behind her looking stiff and angry. His glowing greeneyes fixed me with a hungry stare. “If it means an end to this infernal war,ma’am,peaceatlast,we’lldoanything.Destroyanyone.”

Clarissesmiled.“Destroyanyone.Ilikethat.”

Tysongulped.“Clarisse,”Annabeth said, “Lukemight be after the Fleece, too.We saw

him.He’sgotthecoordinatesandhe’sheadingsouth.Hehasacruiseshipfullofmonsters-“

“Good!I’llblowhimoutofthewater.”“Youdon’tunderstand,”Annabethsaid.Wehavetocombineforces.Letus

helpyou-““No!”Clarissepounded the table. “This ismyquest, smartgirl!Finally I

gettobethehero,andyoutwowillnotstealmychance.”“Where are your cabinmates?” I asked. “Youwere allowed to take two

friendswithyou,weren’tyou?”“Theydidn’t…Iletthemstaybehind.Toprotectthecamp.”“Youmeaneventhepeopleinyourowncabinwouldn’thelpyou?”“Shutup,Prissy!Idon’tneedthem!Oryou!”“Clarisse,”Isaid,“Tantalusisusingyou.Hedoesn’tcareaboutthecamp.

He’dlovetoseeitdestroyed.He’ssettingyouuptofail.”“No!Idon’tcarewhattheOracle-”Shestoppedherself.“What?”Isaid.“WhatdidtheOracletellyou?”“Nothing.”Clarisse’sears turnedpink.“Allyouneed toknowis that I’m

finishingthisquestandyou’renothelping.Ontheotherhand,Ican’tletyougo…”

“Sowe’reprisoners?”Annabethasked.“Guests. For now.” Clarisse propped her feet up on the white linen

tablecloth and opened another Dr Pepper. “Captain, take them below. Assignthemhammocksontheberthdeck.Iftheydon’tmindtheirmanners,showthemhowwedealwithenemyspies.”

ThedreamcameassoonasIfellasleep.Groverwas sitting at his loom, desperately unraveling hiswedding train,

whentheboulderdoorrolledasideandtheCyclopsbellowed,“Aha!”Groveryelped.“Dear!Ididn’t-youweresoquiet!”“Unraveling!”Polyphemusroared.“Sothat’stheproblem!”“Oh,no.I-Iwasn’t-““Come!” Polyphemus grabbed Grover around the waist and half carried,

halfdraggedhimthroughthetunnelsof thecave.Groverstruggledtokeephishighheelsonhishooves.Hisveilkepttiltingonhishead,threateningtocomeoff.

TheCyclopspulledhimintoawarehouse-sizecaverndecoratedwithsheepjunk. There was a wool-covered La-Z-Boy recliner and a wool-coveredtelevision set, crude bookshelves loaded with sheep collectibles-coffee mugs

shaped like sheep faces, plaster figurines of sheep, sheep board games, andpicture books and action figures. The floor was littered with piles of sheepbones, and other bones that didn’t look exactly like sheep-the bones of satyrswho’dcometotheislandlookingforPan.

Polyphemus set Grover down only long enough to move another hugeboulder.Daylightstreamedintothecave,andGroverwhimperedwithlonging.Freshair!

The Cyclops dragged him outside to a hilltop overlooking the mostbeautifulislandI’deverseen.

Itwas shapedkindof likea saddlecut inhalfbyanax.Therewere lushgreenhillsoneithersideandawidevalleyinthemiddle,splitbyadeepchasmthatwas spannedbya ropebridge.Beautiful streams rolled to theedgeof thecanyon and dropped off in rainbow-coloredwaterfalls. Parrots fluttered in thetrees.Pinkandpurpleflowersbloomedonthebushes.Hundredsofsheepgrazedinthemeadows,theirwoolglintingstrangelylikecopperandsilvercoins.

And at the center of the island, right next to the rope bridge, was anenormoustwistedoaktreewithsomethingglitteringinitslowestbough.

TheGoldenFleece.Eveninadream,Icouldfeelitspowerradiatingacrosstheisland,making

the grass greener, the flowersmore beautiful. I could almost smell the naturemagic at work. I could only imagine how powerful the scent would be for asatyr.

Groverwhimpered.“Yes,”Polyphemussaidproudly.“Seeoverthere?Fleeceistheprizeofmy

collection!Stoleitfromheroeslongago,andeversince-freefood!Satyrscomefromallovertheworld,likemothstoflame.Satyrsgoodeating!Andnow-“

Polyphemusscoopedupawickedsetofbronzeshears.Groveryelped,butPolyphemusjustpickedupthenearestsheeplikeitwas

astuffedanimalandshavedoffitswool.HehandedafluffymassofittoGrover.“Put that on the spinning wheel!” he said proudly. “Magic. Cannot be

unraveled.”“Oh…well…”“PoorHoneypie!”Polyphemusgrinned.“Badweaver.Ha-ha!Nottoworry.

Thatthreadwillsolveproblem.Finishweddingtrainbytomorrow!”“Isn’tthat…thoughtfulofyou!”“Hehe.”“But-but, dear,”Grover gulped, “what if someonewere to rescue-Imean

attackthisisland?”Groverlookedstraightatme,andIknewhewasaskingformybenefit.“Whatwouldkeepthemfrommarchingrightupheretoyourcave?”

“Wifey scared! So cute! Not to worry. Polyphemus has state-of-the-artsecuritysystem.Havetogetthroughmypets.”

“Pets?”Groverlookedacrosstheisland,buttherewasnothingtoseeexceptsheep

grazingpeacefullyinthemeadows.“Andthen,”Polyphemusgrowled,“theywouldhavetogetthroughme!”He pounded his fist against the nearest rock, which cracked and split in

half.“Now,come!”heshouted.“Backtothecave.”Groverlookedaboutreadytocry-soclosetofreedom,butsohopelesslyfar.

Tearswelledinhiseyesastheboulderdoorrolledshut,sealinghimonceagaininthestinkytorch-litdanknessoftheCyclops’scave.

Iwoketoalarmbellsringingthroughouttheship.The captain’s gravelly voice: “All hands on deck! Find Lady Clarisse!

Whereisthatgirl?”Thenhis ghostly face appeared aboveme. “Getup,Yankee.Your friends

arealreadyabove.Weareapproachingtheentrance.”“Theentrancetowhat?”Hegavemeaskeletalsmile.“TheSeaofMonsters,ofcourse.”I stuffed my few belongings that had survived the Hydra into a sailor’s

canvasknapsackandslungitovermyshoulder.Ihadasneakingsuspicionthatone way or another I would not be spending another night aboard the CSSBirmingham.

I was onmyway upstairs when somethingmademe freeze. A presencenearby-something familiar and unpleasant. For no particular reason, I felt likepickingafight.IwantedtopunchadeadConfederate.ThelasttimeI’dfeltlikethatkindofanger…

Insteadofgoingup,Icrepttotheedgeoftheventilationgrateandpeereddownintotheboilerdeck.

Clarissewasstandingrightbelowme,talkingtoanimagethatshimmeredinthesteamfromtheboilers-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. I should’ve letoneofmy

sonstakethisquest.”“I’ll succeed!” Clarisse promised, her voice trembling. “I’ll make you

proud.”“You’dbetter,”hewarned.“Youaskedmeforthisquest,girl.Ifyouletthat

slimeballJacksonkidstealitfromyou-““ButtheOraclesaid-““IDON’TCAREWHATITSAID!”Aresbellowedwithsuchforcethathis

imageshimmered.“Youwillsucceed.Andifyoudon’t…”Heraisedhisfist.Eventhoughhewasonlyafigureinthesteam,Clarisse

flinched.“Doweunderstandeachother?”Aresgrowled.The alarm bells rang again. I heard voices coming toward me, officers

yellingorderstoreadythecannons.I crept back from theventilationgrate andmademywayupstairs to join

AnnabethandTysononthespardeck.“What’swrong?”Annabethaskedme.“Anotherdream?”Inodded,butIdidn’tsayanything.Ididn’tknowwhattothinkaboutwhat

I’dseendownstairs.ItbotheredmealmostasmuchasthedreamaboutGrover.Clarissecameupthestairsrightafterme.Itriednottolookather.Shegrabbedapairofbinocularsfromazombieofficerandpeeredtoward

thehorizon.“Atlast.Captain,fullsteamahead!”Ilookedinthesamedirectionasshewas,butIcouldn’tseemuch.Thesky

wasovercast.Theairwashazyandhumid,likesteamfromaniron.IfIsquintedrealhard,Icouldjustmakeoutacoupleofdarkfuzzysplotchesinthedistance.

Mynautical senses toldmeweweresomewhereoff thecoastofnorthernFlorida, so we’d come a long way overnight, farther than any mortal shipshould’vebeenabletotravel.

Theenginegroanedasweincreasedspeed.Tysonmutterednervously,“Toomuchstrainonthepistons.Notmeantfor

deepwater.”Iwasn’tsurehowheknewthat,butitmademenervous.Afterafewmoreminutes,thedarksplotchesaheadofuscameintofocus.

Tothenorth,ahugemassofrockroseoutofthesea-anislandwithcliffsatleastahundredfeettall.Abouthalfamilesouthofthat,theotherpatchofdarknesswasastormbrewing.Theskyandseaboiledtogetherinaroaringmass.

“Hurricane?”Annabethasked.“No,”Clarissesaid.“Charybdis.”Annabethpaled.“Areyoucrazy?”“Onlyway into theSeaofMonsters.StraightbetweenCharybdisandher

sister Scylla.” Clarisse pointed to the top of the cliffs, and I got the feelingsomethingliveduptherethatIdidnotwanttomeet.

“Whatdoyoumean theonlyway?” I asked. “The sea iswideopen! Justsailaroundthem.”

Clarisserolledhereyes.“Don’tyouknowanything?IfItriedtosailaroundthem,theywouldjustappearinmypathagain.IfyouwanttogetintotheSeaofMonsters,youhavetosailthroughthem.”

“WhatabouttheClashingRocks?”Annabethsaid.“That’sanothergateway.Jasonusedit.”

“I can’tblowapart rockswithmycannons,”Clarisse said. “Monsters, ontheotherhand…”

“Youarecrazy,”Annabethdecided.“Watchandlearn,WiseGirl.”Clarisseturnedtothecaptain.“Setcoursefor

Charybdis!”“Aye,m’lady.”Theenginegroaned,theironplatingrattled,andtheshipbegantopickup

speed.“Clarisse,”Isaid,“Charybdissucksupthesea.Isn’tthatthestory?”“Andspitsitbackoutagain,yeah.”“WhataboutScylla?”“Shelivesinacave,uponthosecliffs.Ifwegettooclose,hersnakyheads

willcomedownandstartpluckingsailorsofftheship.”“Choose Scylla then,” I said. “Everybody goes below deck andwe chug

rightpast.”“No!”Clarisseinsisted.“IfScylladoesn’tgethereasymeat,shemightpick

up thewholeship.Besides,she’s toohigh tomakeagood target.Mycannonscan’tshootstraightup.Charybdisjustsitsthereatthecenterofherwhirlwind.We’regoingtosteamstraighttowardher,trainourgunsonher,andblowhertoTartarus!”

ShesaiditwithsuchrelishIalmostwantedtobelieveher.Theenginehummed.TheboilerswereheatingupsomuchIcouldfeelthe

deck gettingwarm beneathmy feet. The smokestacks billowed. The redAresflagwhippedinthewind.

Aswegot closer to themonsters, the soundofCharybdisgot louder andlouder-a horriblewet roar like the galaxy’s biggest toilet being flushed.EverytimeCharybdisinhaled,theshipshudderedandlurchedforward.Everytimesheexhaled,weroseinthewaterandwerebuffetedbyten-footwaves.

I tried to time thewhirlpool.Asnearas I could figure, it tookCharybdisaboutthreeminutestosuckupanddestroyeverythingwithinahalf-mileradius.Toavoidher,wewouldhavetoskirtrightnexttoScylla’scliffs.AndasbadasScyllamightbe,thosecliffswerelookingawfullygoodtome.

Undeadsailorscalmlywentabouttheirbusinessonthespardeck.Iguessthey’dfoughta losingcausebefore,so thisdidn’tbother them.Ormaybetheydidn’tcareaboutgettingdestroyedbecausetheywerealreadydeceased.Neitherthoughtmademefeelanybetter.

Annabethstoodnexttome,grippingtherail.“Youstillhaveyourthermosfullofwind?”

Inodded. “But it’s toodangerous tousewith awhirlpool like that.Morewindmightjustmakethingsworse.”

“What about controlling the water?” she asked. “You’re Poseidon’s son.You’vedoneitbefore.”

Shewas right. I closedmy eyes and tried to calm the sea, but I couldn’tconcentrate.Charybdiswastooloudandpowerful.Thewaveswouldn’trespond.

“I-Ican’t,”Isaidmiserably.“Weneedabackupplan,”Annabethsaid.“Thisisn’tgoingtowork.”“Annabethisright,”Tysonsaid.“Engine’snogood.”“Whatdoyoumean?”sheasked.“Pressure.Pistonsneedfixing.”Before he could explain, the cosmic toilet flushedwith amighty roaaar!

The ship lurched forward and I was thrown to the deck. We were in thewhirlpool.

“Fullreverse!”Clarissescreamedabovethenoise.Theseachurnedaroundus,wavescrashingover thedeck.The ironplatingwasnowsohot itsteamed.“Getuswithinfiringrange!Makereadystarboardcannons!”

Dead Confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller grinded intoreverse, trying to slow the ship, but we kept sliding toward the center of thevortex.

AzombiesailorburstoutoftheholdandrantoClarisse.Hisgrayuniformwas smoking.His beardwas on fire. “Boiler roomoverheating,ma’am!She’sgoingtoblow!”

“Well,getdownthereandfixit!”“Can’t!”thesailoryelled.“We’revaporizingintheheat.”Clarisse pounded the side of the casemate. “All I need is a few more

minutes!Justenoughtogetinrange!”“We’re going in too fast,” the captain said grimly. “Prepare yourself for

death.”“No!”Tysonbellowed.“Icanfixit.”Clarisselookedathimincredulously.“You?”“He’s a Cyclops,” Annabeth said. “He’s immune to fire. And he knows

mechanics.”

“Go!”yelledClarisse.“Tyson,no!”Igrabbedhisarm.“It’stoodangerous!”Hepattedmyhand.“Onlyway,brother.”Hisexpressionwasdetermined-

confident,even.I’dneverseenhimlooklikethisbefore.“Iwillfixit.Berightback.”

As I watched him follow the smoldering sailor down the hatch, I had aterriblefeeling.Iwantedtorunafterhim,buttheshiplurchedagain-andthenIsawCharybdis.

Sheappearedonlyafewhundredyardsaway,throughaswirlofmistandsmokeandwater.ThefirstthingInoticedwasthereef-ablackcragofcoralwitha fig tree clinging to the top, an oddly peaceful thing in the middle of amaelstrom.All around it,watercurved intoa funnel, like lightaroundablackhole.ThenIsawthehorriblethinganchoredtothereefjustbelowthewaterline-anenormousmouthwithslimylipsandmossyteeththesizeofrowboats.Andworse,theteethhadbraces,bandsofcorrodedscummymetalwithpiecesoffishanddriftwoodandfloatinggarbagestuckbetweenthem.

Charybdis was an orthodontist’s nightmare. She was nothing but a hugeblack maw with bad teeth alignment and a serious overbite, and she’d donenothing for centuries but eat without brushing after meals. As I watched, theentire sea aroundherwas sucked into thevoid-sharks, schools of fish, a giantsquid.AndIrealizedthatinafewseconds,theCSSBirminghamwouldbenext.

“LadyClarisse,” the captain shouted. “Starboard and forwardguns are inrange!”

“Fire!”Clarisseordered.Threeroundswereblastedintothemonster’smaw.Oneblewofftheedge

of an incisor. Another disappeared into her gullet. The third hit one ofCharybdis’s retainingbandsandshotbackatus, snapping theAres flagoff itspole.

“Again!” Clarisse ordered. The gunners reloaded, but I knew it washopeless.Wewouldhavetopoundthemonsterahundredmoretimestodoanyrealdamage,andwedidn’thavethatlong.Wewerebeingsuckedintoofast.

Then the vibrations in the deck changed. The hum of the engine gotstrongerandsteadier.Theshipshudderedandwestartedpullingawayfromthemouth.

“Tysondidit!”Annabethsaid.“Wait!”Clarissesaid.“Weneedtostayclose!”“We’lldie!”Isaid.“Wehavetomoveaway.”Igripped the rail as the ship fought against the suction.ThebrokenAres

flagracedpastusand lodged inCharybdis’sbraces.Weweren’tmakingmuch

progress,but at leastwewereholdingourown.Tysonhad somehowgivenusjustenoughjuicetokeeptheshipfrombeingsuckedin.

Suddenly, themouth snapped shut. The sea died to absolute calm.WaterwashedoverCharybdis.

Then,justasquicklyasithadclosed,themouthexplodedopen,spittingoutawallofwater,ejectingeverythinginedible, includingourcannonballs,oneofwhichslammedintothesideoftheCSSBirminghamwithadinglikethebellonacarnivalgame.

Wewere thrownbackwardonawave thatmust’vebeenforty feethigh. Iused all of my willpower to keep the ship from capsizing, but we were stillspinning out of control, hurtling toward the cliffs on the opposite side of thestrait.

Anothersmolderingsailorburstoutofthehold.HestumbledintoClarisse,almostknockingthembothoverboard.“Theengineisabouttoblow!”

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

don’tknowforhowmuchlonger.”Thecaptainsaid,“Wehavetoabandonship.”“No!”Clarisseyelled.“Wehavenochoice,m’lady.Thehullisalreadycrackingapart!Shecan’t-“Henever finishedhis sentence.Quick as lightning, somethingbrownand

greenshotfromthesky,snatchedupthecaptain,andliftedhimaway.All thatwasleftwerehisleatherboots.

“Scylla!”asailoryelled,asanothercolumnofreptilianfleshshotfromthecliffsandsnappedhimup.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!”Clarisse tookAnnabeth’s command. She and a few of her undead sailors

uncoveredoneofthetwoemergencyrowboatswhileScylla’sheadsrainedfromtheskylikeameteorshowerwithteeth,pickingoffConfederatesailorsoneafter

another.“Gettheotherboat.”IthrewAnnabeththethermos.“I’llgetTyson.”“Youcan’t!”shesaid.“Theheatwillkillyou!”I didn’t listen. I ran for the boiler room hatch, when suddenly my feet

weren’ttouchingthedeckanymore.Iwasflyingstraightup,thewindwhistlinginmyears,thesideofthecliffonlyinchesfrommyface.

Scylla had somehow caughtme by the knapsack, and was liftingme uptowardherlair.Withoutthinking,Iswungmyswordbehindmeandmanagedtojabthethinginherbeadyyelloweye.Shegruntedanddroppedme.

Thefallwould’vebeenbadenough,consideringIwasahundredfeetintheair.ButasIfell,theCSSBirminghamexplodedbelowme.

KAROOM!Theengineroomblew,sendingchunksofironcladflyingineitherdirection

likeafierysetofwings.“Tyson!”Iyelled.The lifeboats had managed to get away from the ship, but not very far.

Flaming wreckage was raining down. Clarisse and Annabeth would either besmashedorburnedorpulledtothebottombytheforceofthesinkinghull,andthatwasthinkingoptimistically,assumingtheygotawayfromScylla.

Then I heard a different kind of explosion-the sound of Hermes’smagicthermos being opened a little too far. White sheets of wind blasted in everydirection, scattering the lifeboats, liftingmeoutofmy free fall andpropellingmeacrosstheocean.

I couldn’t see anything. I spun in the air, got clonked on the head bysomethinghard,andhitthewaterwithacrashthatwould’vebrokeneveryboneinmybodyifIhadn’tbeenthesonoftheSeaGod.

The last thing I rememberedwas sinking in a burning sea, knowing thatTysonwasgoneforever,andwishingIwereabletodrown.

TWELVE

WECHECKINTO

C.C.’SSPA&RESORTI woke up in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform

fabric.Annabethsatnexttome,tackingintothewind.Itriedtositupandimmediatelyfeltwoozy.“Rest,”shesaid.“You’regoingtoneedit.”“Tyson…?”Sheshookherhead.“Percy,I’mreallysorry.”Weweresilentwhilethewavestossedusupanddown.“He may have survived,” she said halfheartedly. “I mean, fire can’t kill

him.”I nodded, but I hadno reason to feel hopeful. I’d seen that explosion rip

throughsolidiron.IfTysonhadbeendownintheboilerroom,therewasnowayhecould’velived.

He’dgivenhislifeforus,andallIcouldthinkaboutwerethetimesI’dfeltembarrassedbyhimandhaddeniedthatthetwoofuswererelated.

Waveslappedattheboat.Annabethshowedmesomethingsshe’dsalvagedfrom the wreckage-Hermes’s thermos (now empty), a Ziploc bag full ofambrosia,acoupleofsailors’shirts,andabottleofDrPepper.She’dfishedmeoutofthewaterandfoundmyknapsack,bitteninhalfbyScylla’steeth.Mostofmystuffhadfloatedaway,butIstillhadHermes’sbottleofmultivitamins,andofcourseIhadRiptide.TheballpointpenalwaysappearedbackinmypocketnomatterwhereIlostit.

Wesailed forhours.Nowthatwewere in theSeaofMonsters, thewaterglittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh andsalty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too-as if a thunderstorm werecoming.Orsomethingevenmoredangerous.Iknewwhatdirectionweneededto go. I knew we were exactly one hundred thirteen nautical miles west bynorthwestofourdestination.Butthatdidn’tmakemefeelanylesslost.

Nomatterwhichwayweturned,thesunseemedtoshinestraightintomyeyes.WetookturnssippingfromtheDrPepper,shadingourselveswiththesailasbestwecould.AndwetalkedaboutmylatestdreamofGrover.

ByAnnabeth’sestimate,wehadlessthantwenty-fourhourstofindGrover,assumingmydreamwasaccurate,andassumingtheCyclopsPolyphemusdidn’t

changehismindandtrytomarryGroverearlier.“Yeah,”Isaidbitterly.“YoucannevertrustaCyclops.”Annabeth stared across the water. “I’m sorry, Percy. I was wrong about

Tyson,okay?IwishIcouldtellhimthat.”I tried to stay mad at her, but it wasn’t easy. We’d been through a lot

together.She’dsavedmylifeplentyoftimes.Itwasstupidofmetoresenther.I looked down at our measly possessions-the empty wind thermos, the

bottle ofmultivitamins. I thought aboutLuke’s look of ragewhen I’d tried totalktohimabouthisdad.

“Annabeth,what’sChiron’sprophecy?”Shepursedherlips.“Percy,Ishouldn’t-““I know Chiron promised the gods he wouldn’t tell me. But you didn’t

promise,didyou?”“Knowledgeisn’talwaysgoodforyou.”“Yourmomisthewisdomgoddess!”“Iknow!Buteverytimeheroeslearnthefuture,theytrytochangeit,andit

neverworks.”“ThegodsareworriedaboutsomethingI’lldowhenIgetolder,”Iguessed.

“SomethingwhenIturnsixteen.”Annabeth twistedherYankeescap inherhands.“Percy, Idon’tknow the

fullprophecy,butitwarnsaboutahalf-bloodchildoftheBigThree-thenextonewholivestotheageofsixteen.That’stherealreasonZeus,Poseidon,andHadessworeapactafterWorldWarIInottohaveanymorekids.ThenextchildoftheBigThreewhoreachessixteenwillbeadangerousweapon.”

“Why?”“BecausethatherowilldecidethefateofOlympus.Heorshewillmakea

decisionthateithersavestheAgeoftheGods,ordestroysit.”I let that sink in. I don’t get seasick, but suddenly I felt ill. “That’swhy

Kronosdidn’tkillmelastsummer.”Shenodded.“Youcouldbeveryusefultohim.Ifhecangetyouonhisside,

thegodswillbeinserioustrouble.”“Butifit’smeintheprophecy-““We’llonlyknowthatifyousurvivethreemoreyears.Thatcanbealong

timeforahalf-blood.WhenChironfirst learnedaboutThalia,heassumedshewastheoneintheprophecy.That’swhyhewassodesperatetogethersafelytocamp.Thenshewentdownfightingandgotturnedintoapinetreeandnoneofusknewwhattothink.Untilyoucamealong.”

Onourportside,aspikygreendorsalfinaboutfifteenfeetlongcurledoutofthewateranddisappeared.

“This kid in the prophecy… he or she couldn’t be like, a Cyclops?” Iasked.“TheBigThreehavelotsofmonsterchildren.”

Annabeth shook her head. “The Oracle said ‘half-blood.’ That alwaysmeanshalf-human,half-god.There’sreallynobodyalivewhoitcouldbe,exceptyou.”

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

they’reprobablyafraidofoffendingPoseidon.Othergods…maybethey’restillwatchingyou,tryingtodecidewhatkindofheroyou’regoingbe.Youcouldbeaweaponfortheirsurvival,afterall.Therealquestionis…whatwillyoudointhreeyears?Whatdecisionwillyoumake?”

“Didtheprophecygiveanyhints?”Annabethhesitated.Maybeshewould’vetoldmemore,butjustthenaseagullswoopeddown

outofnowhereandlandedonourmakeshiftmast.Annabethlookedstartledasthebirddroppedasmallclusterofleavesintoherlap.

“Land,”shesaid.“There’slandnearby!”Isatup.Sureenough, therewasa lineofblueandbrownin thedistance.

Anotherminute and I couldmake out an islandwith a smallmountain in thecenter,adazzlingwhitecollectionofbuildings,abeachdottedwithpalmtrees,andaharborfilledwithastrangeassortmentofboats.

The current was pulling our rowboat toward what looked like a tropicalparadise.

“Welcome!”saidtheladywiththeclipboard.She looked likea flightattendant-bluebusiness suit,perfectmakeup,hair

pulled back in a ponytail. She shook our hands aswe stepped onto the dock.Withthedazzlingsmileshegaveus,youwould’vethoughtwe’djustgottenoffthePrincessAndromedaratherthanabanged-uprowboat.

Then again, our rowboat wasn’t the weirdest ship in port. Along with abunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugoutcanoes,andanold-fashionedthree-mastedsailingship.Therewasahelipadwitha “Channel FiveFortLauderdale” helicopter on it, and a short runwaywith aLearjetandapropellerplanethatlookedlikeaWorldWarIIfighter.Maybetheywerereplicasfortouriststolookatorsomething.

“Isthisyourfirsttimewithus?”theclipboardladyinquired.AnnabethandIexchangedlooks.Annabethsaid,“Umm…”“First-time-at-spa,”theladysaidasshewroteonherclipboard.“Let’ssee

…”Shelookedusupanddowncritically.“Mmm.Anherbalwraptostartfor

theyounglady.Andofcourse,acompletemakeoverfortheyounggentleman.”“Awhat?”Iasked.Shewastoobusyjottingdownnotestoanswer.“Right!”She saidwith abreezy smile. “Well, I’m sureC.C.willwant to

speakwithyoupersonallybeforetheluau.Come,please.”Nowhere’sthething.AnnabethandIwereusedtotraps,andusuallythose

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

“Iguessitcouldn’thurt,”Annabethmuttered.Ofcourseitcould,butwefollowedtheladyanyway.Ikeptmyhandsinmy

pocketswhereI’dstashedmyonlymagicdefenses-Hermes’smultivitaminsandRiptide-but the farther we wandered into the resort, the more I forgot aboutthem.

The place was amazing. There was white marble and blue watereverywhere I looked. Terraces climbed up the side of the mountain, withswimming pools on every level, connected by watersides and waterfalls andunderwatertubesyoucouldswimthrough.Fountainssprayedwaterintotheair,formingimpossibleshapes,likeflyingeaglesandgallopinghorses.

Tysonlovedhorses,andIknewhe’dlovethosefountains.IalmostturnedaroundtoseetheexpressiononhisfacebeforeIremembered:Tysonwasgone.

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

towels.A leopard stretched out asleep on the diving board.The resort guests-onlyyoungwomen,asfarasIcouldsee-loungedindeckchairs,drinkingfruitsmoothies or reading magazines while herbal gunk dried on their faces andmanicuristsinwhiteuniformsdidtheirnails.

Asweheadedupastaircasetowardwhatlookedlikethemainbuilding,Iheard a woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like a lullaby. HerwordswereinsomelanguageotherthanAncientGreek,butjustasold-Minoan,maybe, or something like that. I could understand what she sang about-moonlightintheolivegroves,thecolorsofthesunrise.Andmagic.Somethingaboutmagic.Hervoiceseemedtoliftmeoffthestepsandcarrymetowardher.

We came into a big roomwhere thewhole frontwallwaswindows.Thebackwallwascoveredinmirrors,sotheroomseemedtogoonforever.There

wasabunchofexpensive-lookingwhitefurniture,andonatableinonecornerwasalargewirepetcage.Thecageseemedoutofplace,butIdidn’tthinkaboutittoomuch,becausejustthenIsawtheladywho’dbeensinging…andwhoa.

Shesatata loomthesizeofabigscreenTV,herhandsweavingcoloredthread back and forthwith amazing skill. The tapestry shimmered like it wasthree dimensional-a waterfall scene so real I could see thewatermoving andcloudsdriftingacrossafabricsky.

Annabethcaughtherbreath.“It’sbeautiful.”Thewoman turned. Shewas even prettier than her fabric.Her long dark

hairwasbraidedwiththreadsofgold.Shehadpiercinggreeneyesandsheworea silky black dress with shapes that seemed to move in the fabric: animalshadows,blackuponblack,likedeerrunningthroughaforestatnight.

“Youappreciateweaving,mydear?”thewomanasked.“Oh,yes,ma’am!”Annabethsaid.“Mymotheris-“She stopped herself. You couldn’t just go around announcing that your

momwasAthena,thegoddesswhoinventedtheloom.Mostpeoplewouldlockyouinarubberroom.

Ourhostessjustsmiled.“Youhavegoodtaste,mydear.I’msogladyou’vecome.MynameisC.C.”

Theanimalsinthecornercagestartedsquealing.Theymust’vebeenguineapigs,fromthesoundofthem.

We introduced ourselves to C.C. She looked me over with a twinge ofdisapproval,asifI’dfailedsomekindoftest.Immediately,Ifeltbad.Forsomereason,Ireallywantedtopleasethislady.

“Oh,dear,”shesighed.“Youdoneedmyhelp.”“Ma’am?”Iasked.C.C.calledtotheladyinthebusinesssuit.“Hylla,takeAnnabethonatour,

willyou?Showherwhatwehaveavailable.Theclothingwillneedtochange.And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I’vespokenwiththisyounggentleman.”

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

showingoffyourselforyourtalentsatall.Somuchwastedpotential!”“Wasted?”“Well,surelyyou’renothappythewayyouare!Mygoodness,there’snota

singlepersonwhois.Butdon’tworry.Wecanimproveanyonehereatthespa.HyllawillshowyouwhatImean.You,mydear,needtounlockyourtrueself!”

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

“Oh, definitely,” C.C. said, giving me a sad look. “Percy requires mypersonalattention.Heneedsmuchmoreworkthanyou.”

Normallyifsomebodyhadtoldmethat,Iwould’vegottenangry,butwhenC.C.saidit,Ifeltsad.I’ddisappointedher.Ihadtofigureouthowtodobetter.

Theguineapigssquealedliketheywerehungry.“Well…”Annabethsaid.“Isuppose…”“Rightthisway,dear,”Hyllasaid.AndAnnabethallowedherselftobeled

awayintothewaterfall-lacedgardensofthespa.C.C.tookmyarmandguidedmetowardthemirroredwall.“Yousee,Percy

…tounlockyourpotential,you’llneedserioushelp.Thefirststepisadmittingthatyou’renothappythewayyouare.”

Ifidgetedinthefrontofthemirror.Ihatedthinkingaboutmyappearance-likethefirstzitthathadcroppeduponmynoseatthebeginningoftheschoolyear,orthefactthatmytwofrontteethweren’tperfectlyeven,orthatmyhairneverstayeddownstraight.

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

Whocares?Part ofme thought.But standing in front ofC.C.’smirror, itwashardtoseeanythinggoodinmyself.

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

Itshimmeredlikethefabriconherloom.“Whatdoyousee?”C.C.asked.Ilookedatthebluecloth,notsurewhatshemeant.“Idon’t-“Then it changed colors. I saw myself-a reflection, but not a reflection.

ShimmeringthereontheclothwasacoolerversionofPercyJackson-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’s quite easy,” C.C. said. “Plenty of fresh fruit, a mild exercise

program,andofcourse…this.”She stepped over to her wet bar and filled a glass with water. Then she

ripped open a drink-mix packet and poured in some red powder. Themixturebegantoglow.Whenitfaded,thedrinklookedjustlikeastrawberrymilkshake.

“Oneofthese,substitutedforaregularmeal,”C.C.said.“Iguaranteeyou’llseeresultsimmediately.”

“Howisthatpossible?”She laughed. “Why question it? I mean, don’t you want the perfect you

rightaway?”Somethingnaggedatthebackofmymind.“Whyaretherenoguysatthis

spa?”“Oh,butthereare,”C.C.assuredme.“You’llmeetthemquitesoon.Justtry

themixture.You’llsee.”Ilookedatthebluetapestry,atthereflectionofme,butnotme.“Now,Percy,”C.C. chided. “Thehardest part of themakeover process is

givingupcontrol.Youhavetodecide:doyouwanttotrustyourjudgmentaboutwhatyoushouldbe,ormyjudgment?”

Mythroatfeltdry.Iheardmyselfsay,“Yourjudgment.”C.C.smiledandhandedmetheglass.Iliftedittomylips.It tasted just like it looked-like a strawberry milk shake. Almost

immediately a warm feeling spread through my gut: pleasant at first, thenpainfullyhot,searing,asifthemixturewerecomingtoaboilinsideofme.

I doubled over and dropped the cup. “What have you … what’shappening?”

“Don’tworry,Percy,”C.C.said.“Thepainwillpass.Look!AsIpromised.Immediateresults.”

Somethingwashorriblywrong.The curtain dropped away, and in themirror I sawmy hands shriveling,

curling,growinglongdelicateclaws.Fursproutedonmyface,undermyshirt,inevery uncomfortable place you can imagine. My teeth felt too heavy in mymouth.Myclothesweregetting toobig,orC.C.wasgetting too tall-no, Iwasshrinking.

Inoneawful flash, Isank intoacavernofdarkcloth. Iwasburied inmyownshirt.I triedtorunbuthandsgrabbedme-handsasbigasIwas.I triedtoscreamforhelp,butallthatcameoutofmymouthwas,“Reeet,reeet,reeet!”

Thegianthandssqueezedmearound themiddle, liftingme into theair. Istruggledandkickedwithlegsandarmsthatseemedmuchtoostubby,andthenIwasstaring,horrified,intotheenormousfaceofC.C.

“Perfect!”hervoiceboomed. I squirmed in alarm,but sheonly tightenedhergriparoundmyfurrybelly.“See,Percy?You’veunlockedyourtrueself!”

Sheheldmeup to themirror, andwhat I sawmademe scream in terror,“Reeet, reeet, reeet!” Therewas C.C., beautiful and smiling, holding a fluffy,bucktoothedcreaturewithtinyclawsandwhiteandorangefur.WhenItwisted,

sodidthefurrycritterinthemirror.Iwas…Iwas…“A guinea pig,” C.C. said. “Lovely, aren’t you? Men are pigs, Percy

Jackson.Iusedtoturnthemintorealpigs,buttheyweresosmellyandlargeanddifficulttokeep.Notmuchdifferentthantheywerebefore,really.Guineapigsaremuchmoreconvenient!Nowcome,andmeettheothermen.”

“Reeet!”Iprotested,tryingtoscratchher,butC.C.squeezedmesotightIalmostblackedout.

“Noneofthat,littleone,”shescolded,“orI’llfeedyoutotheowls.Gointothecagelikeagoodlittlepet.Tomorrow,ifyoubehave,you’llbeonyourway.Thereisalwaysaclassroominneedofanewguineapig.”

Mymindwasracingasfastasmytinylittleheart.Ineededtogetbacktomyclothes,whichwerelyinginaheaponthefloor.IfIcoulddothat,IcouldgetRiptideoutofmypocketand…Andwhat?Icouldn’tuncapthepen.EvenifIdid,Icouldn’tholdthesword.

IsquirmedhelplesslyasC.C.broughtmeover to theguineapigcageandopenedthewiredoor.

“Meetmy discipline problems, Percy,” shewarned. “They’ll nevermakegood classroom pets, but theymight teach you somemanners.Most of themhavebeen in this cage for threehundredyears. Ifyoudon’twant to staywiththempermanently,I’dsuggestyou-“

Annabeth’svoicecalled:“MissC.C.?”C.C.cursedinAncientGreek.Sheploppedmeintothecageandclosedthe

door. Isquealedandclawedat thebars,but itwasnogood.IwatchedasC.C.hurriedlykickedmyclothesundertheloomjustasAnnabethcamein.

Ialmostdidn’trecognizeher.ShewaswearingasleevelesssilkdresslikeC.C.’s,onlywhite.Herblondhairwasnewlywashedandcombedandbraidedwith gold. Worst of all, she was wearing makeup, which I never thoughtAnnabethwould be caught dead in. Imean, she looked good. Really good. Iprobablywould’vebeentongue-tiedifIcould’vesaidanythingexceptreet,reet,reet. But there was also something totally wrong about it. It just wasn’tAnnabeth.

Shelookedaroundtheroomandfrowned.“Where’sPercy?”Isquealedupastorm,butshedidn’tseemtohearme.C.C. smiled. “He’s having one of our treatments,my dear.Not toworry.

Youlookwonderful!Whatdidyouthinkofyourtour?”Annabeth’seyesbrightened.“Yourlibraryisamazing!”“Yes,indeed,”C.C.said,“Thebestknowledgeofthepastthreemillennia.

Anythingyouwanttostudy,anythingyouwanttobe,mydear.”“Anarchitect?”

“Pah!” C.C. said. “You, my dear, have themakings of a sorceress. Likeme.”

Annabethtookastepback.“Asorceress?”“Yes,mydear.”C.C.heldupherhand.Aflameappearedinherpalmand

danced across her fingertips. “My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. IknowadaughterofAthenawhenIseeone.Wearenotsodifferent,youandI.Webothseekknowledge.Webothadmiregreatness.Neitherofusneedstostandintheshadowofmen.”

“I-Idon’tunderstand.”Again,Isquealedmybest,tryingtogetAnnabeth’sattention,butsheeither

couldn’thearmeordidn’tthinkthenoiseswereimportant.Meanwhile,theotherguineapigswereemergingfromtheirhutchtocheckmeout.Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible forguineapigs to lookmean,but thesedid.Therewerehalfadozen,with dirty fur and cracked teeth and beady red eyes. Theywere coveredwithshavingsandsmelledliketheyreallyhadbeeninhereforthreehundredyears,withoutgettingtheircagecleaned.

“Staywithme,”C.C.wastellingAnnabeth.“Studywithme.Youcanjoinourstaff,becomeasorceress,learntobendotherstoyourwill.Youwillbecomeimmortal!”

“But-““Youaretoointelligent,mydear,”C.C.said.“Youknowbetterthantotrust

that silly camp for heroes.Howmanygreat femalehalf-bloodheroes canyouname?”

“Um,Atalanta,AmeliaEarhart-““Bah! Men get all the glory.” C.C. closed her fist and extinguished the

magic flame. “Theonlyway topower forwomen is sorcery.Medea,Calypso,nowtherewerepowerfulwomen!Andme,ofcourse.Thegreatestofall.”

“You…C.C.…Circe!”“Yes,mydear.”Annabethbackedup,andCircelaughed.“Youneednotworry.Imeanyou

noharm.”“WhathaveyoudonetoPercy?”“Onlyhelpedhimrealizehistrueform.”Annabethscannedtheroom.Finallyshesawthecage,andmescratchingat

thebars,alltheotherguineapigscrowdingaroundme.Hereyeswentwide.“Forgethim,”Circesaid.“Joinmeandlearnthewaysofsorcery.”“But-““Your friendwill bewell cared for.He’ll be shipped to awonderful new

homeonthemainland.Thekindergartnerswilladorehim.Meanwhile,youwill

bewiseandpowerful.Youwillhaveallyoueverwanted.”Annabethwasstill staringatme,butshehadadreamyexpressiononher

face.ShelookedthesamewayIhadwhenCirceenchantedmeintodrinkingtheguineapigmilkshake.Isquealedandscratched,tryingtowarnhertosnapoutofit,butIwasabsolutelypowerless.

“Letme think about it,” Annabethmurmured. “Just… giveme aminutealone.Tosaygood-bye.”

“Ofcourse,mydear,”Circecooed.“Oneminute.Oh…andsoyouhaveabsoluteprivacy…”Shewavedherhandandironbarsslammeddownoverthewindows.ShesweptoutoftheroomandIheardthelocksonthedoorclickshutbehindher.

ThedreamylookmeltedoffAnnabeth’sface.Sherushedovertomycage.“Allright,whichoneisyou?Isquealed,butsodidalltheotherguineapigs.Annabethlookeddesperate.

Shescannedtheroomandspottedthecuffofmyjeansstickingoutfromundertheloom.

Yes!Sherushedoverandrummagedthroughmypockets.But instead of bringing out Riptide, she found the bottle of Hermes

multivitaminsandstartedstrugglingwiththecap.Iwantedtoscreamatherthatthiswasn’tthetimefortakingsupplements!

Shehadtodrawthesword!Shepoppedalemonchewableinhermouthjustasthedoorflewopenand

Circecamebackin,flankedbytwoofherbusiness-suitedattendants.“Well,”Circesighed,“howfastaminutepasses.Whatisyouranswer,my

dear?”“This,”Annabethsaid,andshedrewherbronzeknife.The sorceress steppedback,buther surprisequicklypassed.She sneered.

“Really,littlegirl,aknifeagainstmymagic?Isthatwise?”Circelookedbackatherattendants,whosmiled.Theyraisedtheirhandsas

ifpreparingtocastaspell.Run! Iwanted to tellAnnabeth, but all I couldmakewere rodent noises.

Theotherguineapigssquealedinterrorandscuttledaroundthecage.Ihadtheurgetopanicandhide,too,butIhadtothinkofsomething!Icouldn’tstandtoloseAnnabeththewayI’dlostTyson.

“WhatwillAnnabeth’smakeoverbe?”Circemused.“Somethingsmallandill-tempered.Iknow…ashrew!”

BluefirecoiledfromherfingerscurlinglikeserpentsaroundAnnabeth.I watched, horror-struck, but nothing happened. Annabeth was still

Annabeth, only angrier. She leaped forward and stuck the point of her knifeagainstCirce’s neck. “Howabout turningme into a panther instead?One thathasherclawsatyourthroat!”

“How!”Circeyelped.Annabethheldupmybottleofvitaminsforthesorceresstosee.Circehowled in frustration. “CurseHermes andhismultivitamins!Those

aresuchafad!Theydonothingforyou.”“TurnPercybacktoahumanorelse!”Annabethsaid.“Ican’t!”“Thenyouaskedforit.”Circe’sattendantssteppedforward,buttheirmistresssaid,“Getback!She’s

immunetomagicuntilthatcursedvitaminwearsoff.”AnnabethdraggedCirceover to theguineapigcage,knockedthetopoff,

andpouredtherestofthevitaminsinside.“No!”Circescreamed.Iwas the first toget avitamin,but all theotherguineapigs scuttledout,

too,andcheckedoutthisnewfood.Thefirstnibble,andIfeltallfieryinside.Ignawedat thevitaminuntil it

stoppedlookingsohuge,andthecagegotsmaller,andthensuddenly,bang!Thecageexploded. Iwassittingon thefloor,ahumanagain-somehowback inmyregularclothes, thank thegods-withsixotherguyswhoall lookeddisoriented,blinkingandshakingwoodshavingsoutoftheirhair.

“No!”Circescreamed.“Youdon’tunderstand!Thosearetheworst!”Oneofthemenstoodup-ahugeguywithalongtangledpitch-blackbeard

andteeththesamecolor.Heworemismatchedclothesofwoolandleather,knee-lengthboots,andafloppyfelthat.Theothermenweredressedmoresimply-inbreechesandstainedwhiteshirts.Allofthemwerebarefoot.

“Argggh!”bellowedthebigman.“What’sthewitchdonet’me!”“No!”Circemoaned.Annabethgasped.“Irecognizeyou!EdwardTeach,sonofAres?”“Aye,lass,”thebigmangrowled.“ThoughmostcallmeBlackbeard!And

there’sthesorceresswhatcapturedus,lads.Runherthrough,andthenImeantofindmeabigbowlofcelery!Arggggh!”

Circescreamed.Sheandherattendants ran fromthe room,chasedby thepirates.

Annabethsheathedherknifeandglaredatme.“Thanks…”Ifaltered.“I’mreallysorry-“Before I could figure out how to apologize for being such an idiot, she

tackledmewithahug,thenpulledawayjustasquickly.“I’mgladyou’renota

guineapig.”“Me,too.”Ihopedmyfacewasn’tasredasitfelt.Sheundidthegoldenbraidsinherhair.“Comeon,SeaweedBrain,”shesaid.“WehavetogetawaywhileCirce’s

distracted.”Werandownthehillsidethroughtheterraces,pastscreamingspaworkers

andpiratesransackingtheresort.Blackbeard’smenbrokethetikitorchesfortheluau, threw herbal wraps into the swimming pool, and kicked over tables ofsaunatowels.

Ialmostfeltbadlettingtheunrulypiratesout,butIguessedtheydeservedsomethingmoreentertainingthantheexercisewheelafterbeingcoopedupinacageforthreecenturies.

“Whichship?”Annabethsaidaswereachedthedocks.I lookedarounddesperately.Wecouldn’tverywell takeour rowboat.We

hadtogetofftheislandfast,butwhatelsecouldweuse?Asub?Afighterjet?Icouldn’tpilotanyofthosethings.AndthenIsawit.

“There,”Isaid.Annabethblinked.“But-““Icanmakeitwork.”“How?”Icouldn’texplain.Ijustsomehowknewanoldsailingvesselwasthebest

bet for me. I grabbed Annabeth’s hand and pulled her toward the three-mastship.PaintedonitsprowwasthenamethatIwouldonlydecipherlater:QueenAnne’sRevenge.

“Argggh!”Blackbeardyelledsomewherebehindus.“Thosescalawagsareaboardingmevessel!Get‘em,lads!”

“We’llnevergetgoingintime!”Annabethyelledasweclimbedaboard.I looked around at the hopelessmaze of sail and ropes. The shipwas in

greatconditionforathree-hundred-year-oldvessel,butitwouldstilltakeacrewoffiftyseveralhourstogetunderway.Wedidn’thaveseveralhours.Icouldseethepiratesrunningdownthestairs,wavingtikitorchesandsticksofcelery.

I closedmyeyesandconcentratedon thewaves lappingagainst thehull,theoceancurrents,thewindsallaroundme.Suddenly,therightwordappearedinmymind.“Mizzenmast!”Iyelled.

AnnabethlookedatmelikeIwasnuts,butinthenextsecond,theairwasfilledwithwhistlingsoundsofropesbeingsnappedtaut,canvasesunfurling,andwoodenpulleyscreaking.

Annabethduckedasacableflewoverherheadandwrappeditselfaroundthebowsprit.“Percy,how…”

Ididn’thaveananswer,butIcouldfeeltheshiprespondingtomeasifitwerepartofmybody.IwilledthesailstoriseaseasilyasifIwereflexingmyarm.Iwilledtheruddertoturn.

TheQueenAnne’sRevengelurchedawayfromthedock,andbythetimethepiratesarrivedat thewater’sedge,wewerealreadyunderway, sailing intotheSeaofMonsters.

THIRTEEN

ANNABETHTRIES

TOSWIMHOME

I’dfinallyfoundsomethingIwasreallygoodat.The Queen Anne’s Revenge responded to my every command. I knew

which ropes tohoist,whichsails to raise,whichdirection to steer.WeplowedthroughthewavesatwhatIfiguredwasabouttenknots.Ievenunderstoodhowfastthatwas.Forasailingship,prettydarnfast.

Itallfeltperfect-thewindinmyface,thewavesbreakingovertheprow.Butnowthatwewereoutofdanger,allIcouldthinkaboutwashowmuchI

missedTyson,andhowworriedIwasaboutGrover.Icouldn’tgetoverhowbadlyI’dmesseduponCirce’sIsland.Ifithadn’t

beenforAnnabeth,I’dstillbearodent,hidinginahutchwithabunchofcutefurrypirates.IthoughtaboutwhatCircehadsaid:See,Percy?You’veunlockedyourtrueself!

Istillfeltchanged.NotjustbecauseIhadasuddendesiretoeatlettuce.Ifeltjumpy,liketheinstincttobeascaredlittleanimalwasnowapartofme.Ormaybeithadalwaysbeenthere.That’swhatreallyworriedme.

Wesailedthroughthenight.Annabethtriedtohelpmekeeplookout,butsailingdidn’tagreewithher.

Afterafewhoursrockingbackandforth,herfaceturnedthecolorofguacamoleandshewentbelowtolieinahammock.

I watched the horizon. More than once I spotted monsters. A plume ofwaterastallasaskyscraperspewedintothemoonlight.Arowofgreenspinesslithered across the waves-something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian. Ididn’treallywanttoknow.

OnceIsawNereids, theglowingladyspiritsof thesea.I triedtowaveatthem, but they disappeared into the depths, leavingme unsurewhether they’dseenmeornot.

Sometimeaftermidnight,Annabethcameupondeck.Wewerejustpassingasmokingvolcanoisland.Theseabubbledandsteamedaroundtheshore.

“One of the forges ofHephaestus,”Annabeth said. “Where hemakes hismetalmonsters.”

“Likethebronzebulls?”Shenodded.“Goaround.Fararound.”Ididn’tneedtobetoldtwice.Westeeredclearoftheisland,andsoonitwas

justaredpatchofhazebehindus.IlookedatAnnabeth.“ThereasonyouhateCyclopessomuch…thestory

abouthowThaliareallydied.Whathappened?”Itwashardtoseeherexpressioninthedark.“I guess you deserve to know,” she said finally. “The night Grover was

escortingustocamp,hegotconfused,tooksomewrongturns.Yourememberhetoldyouthatonce?”

Inodded.“Well,theworstwrongturnwasintoaCyclops’slairinBrooklyn.”“They’vegotCyclopesinBrooklyn?”Iasked.“Youwouldn’tbelievehowmany,butthat’snotthepoint.ThisCyclops,he

tricked us.Hemanaged to split us up inside thismaze of corridors in an oldhouseinFlatbush.Andhecouldsoundlikeanyone,Percy.Just thewayTysondidaboardthePrincessAndromeda.Heluredus,oneatatime.ThaliathoughtshewasrunningtosaveLuke.Lukethoughtheheardmescreamforhelp.Andme…Iwasalone in thedark. Iwassevenyearsold. Icouldn’tevenfind theexit.”

Shebrushedthehairoutofherface.“Irememberfindingthemainroom.Therewerebonesalloverthefloor.AndtherewereThaliaandLukeandGrover,tiedup andgagged, hanging from the ceiling like smokedhams.TheCyclopswasstartingafireinthemiddleofthefloor.Idrewmyknife,butheheardme.Heturnedandsmiled.Hespoke,andsomehowheknewmydad’svoice.Iguesshejustpluckeditoutofmymind.Hesaid,‘Now,Annabeth,don’tyouworry.Iloveyou.Youcanstayherewithme.Youcanstayforever.’”

I shivered. Theway she told it-even now, six years later-freakedme outworsethananyghoststoryI’deverheard.“Whatdidyoudo?”

“Istabbedhiminthefoot.”I stared at her. “Are you kidding? You were seven years old and you

stabbedagrownCyclopsinthefoot?”“Oh,hewould’vekilledme.But I surprisedhim. Itgaveme just enough

timetoruntoThaliaandcuttheropesonherhands.Shetookitfromthere.”“Yeah,butstill…thatwasprettybrave,Annabeth.”Sheshookherhead.“Webarelygotoutalive.Istillhavenightmares,Percy.

Theway thatCyclops talked inmy father’svoice. Itwashis faultwe took solonggettingtocamp.Allthemonsterswho’dbeenchasingushadtimetocatchup.That’sreallywhyThaliadied.Ifithadn’tbeenforthatCyclops,she’dstillbealivetoday.”

We sat on the deck,watching theHercules constellation rise in the nightsky.

“Gobelow,”Annabethtoldmeatlast.“Youneedsomerest.”I nodded. My eyes were heavy. But when I got below and found a

hammock,ittookmealongtimetofallasleep.IkeptthinkingaboutAnnabeth’sstory.Iwondered,ifIwereher,wouldIhavehadenoughcouragetogoonthisquest,tosailstraighttowardthelairofanotherCyclops?

Ididn’tdreamaboutGrover.Instead I found myself back in Luke’s stateroom aboard the Princess

Andromeda.Thecurtainswereopen. Itwasnighttimeoutside.Theair swirledwithshadows.Voiceswhisperedallaroundme-spiritsofthedead.

Beware,theywhispered.Traps.Trickery.Kronos’sgoldensarcophagusglowedfaintly-theonlysourceoflightinthe

room.Acoldlaughstartledme.Itseemedtocomefrommilesbelowtheship.You

don’thavethecourage,youngone.Youcan’tstopme.IknewwhatIhadtodo.Ihadtoopenthatcoffin.IuncappedRiptide.Ghostswhirledaroundmelikeatornado.Beware!Myheartpounded.Icouldn’tmakemyfeetmove,butIhadtostopKronos.

Ihadtodestroywhateverwasinthatbox.Thenagirlspokerightnexttome:“Well,SeaweedBrain?”Ilookedover,expectingtoseeAnnabeth,butthegirlwasn’tAnnabeth.She

wore punk-style clotheswith silver chains on herwrists. She had spiky blackhair,darkeyelineraroundherstormyblueeyes,andasprayof frecklesacrosshernose.Shelookedfamiliar,butIwasn’tsurewhy.

“Well?”sheasked.“Arewegoingtostophimornot?”Icouldn’tanswer.Icouldn’tmove.Thegirlrolledhereyes.“Fine.LeaveittomeandAegis.”She tapped her wrist and her silver chains transformed-flattening and

expandingintoahugeshield.Itwassilverandbronze,withthemonstrousfaceofMedusa protruding from the center. It looked like a death mask, as if thegorgon’s real head had been pressed into themetal. I didn’t know if thatwastrue,oriftheshieldcouldreallypetrifyme,butIlookedaway.Justbeingnearitmademe coldwith fear. I got a feeling that in a real fight, the bearer of thatshieldwouldbealmostimpossibletobeat.Anysaneenemywouldturnandrun.

Thegirl drewher swordandadvancedon the sarcophagus.The shadowyghostspartedforher,scatteringbeforetheterribleauraofhershield.

“No,”Itriedtowarnher.But she didn’t listen. She marched straight up to the sarcophagus and

pushedasidethegoldenlid.Foramomentshestoodthere,gazingdownatwhateverwasinthebox.Thecoffinbegantoglow.“No.”Thegirl’svoicetrembled.“Itcan’tbe.”

From the depths of the ocean, Kronos laughed so loudly the whole shiptrembled.

“No!” The girl screamed as the sarcophagus engulfed her in a blast of agoldenlight.

“Ah!”Isatboltuprightinmyhammock.Annabethwasshakingme.“Percy,youwerehavinganightmare.Youneed

togetup.”“Wh-whatisit?”Irubbedmyeyes.“What’swrong?”“Land,”shesaidgrimly.“We’reapproachingtheislandoftheSirens.”Icouldbarelymakeouttheislandaheadofus-justadarkspotinthemist.“Iwantyoutodomeafavor,”Annabethsaid.“TheSirens…we’llbein

rangeoftheirsingingsoon.”I remembered stories about theSirens.They sang so sweetly their voices

enchantedsailorsandluredthemtotheirdeath.“Noproblem,”Iassuredher.“Wecanjuststopupourears.There’sabig

tubofcandlewaxbelowdeck-““Iwanttohearthem.”Iblinked.“Why?”“They say the Sirens sing the truth aboutwhat you desire.They tell you

thingsaboutyourselfyoudidn’tevenrealize.That’swhat’ssoenchanting.Ifyousurvive… you becomewiser. Iwant to hear them.How oftenwill I get thatchance?”

Coming frommost people, this would’ve made no sense. But Annabethbeing who she was-well, if she could struggle through Ancient Greekarchitecturebooksandenjoydocumentarieson theHistoryChannel, IguessedtheSirenswouldappealtoher,too.

Shetoldmeherplan.Reluctantly,Ihelpedhergetready.Assoonastherockycoastlineoftheislandcameintoview,Iorderedone

oftheropestowraparoundAnnabeth’swaist,tyinghertotheforemast.“Don’tuntieme,”shesaid,“nomatterwhathappensorhowmuchIplead.

I’llwanttogostraightovertheedgeanddrownmyself.”“Areyoutryingtotemptme?”“Ha-ha.”IpromisedI’dkeephersecure.ThenItooktwolargewadsofcandlewax,

kneadedthemintoearplugs,andstuffedmyears.Annabeth nodded sarcastically, lettingme know the earplugswere a real

fashionstatement.Imadeafaceatherandturnedtothepilot’swheel.Thesilencewaseerie.Icouldn’thearanythingbuttherushofbloodinmy

head.Asweapproachedtheisland,jaggedrocksloomedoutofthefog.Iwilled

theQueenAnne’sRevengetoskirtaroundthem.Ifwesailedanycloser, thoserockswouldshredourhulllikeblenderblades.

Iglancedback.At first,Annabeth seemed totallynormal.Then shegot apuzzledlookonherface.Hereyeswidened.

She strained against the ropes.She calledmyname-I could tell just fromreadingherlips.Herexpressionwasclear:Shehadtogetout.Thiswaslifeordeath.Ihadtoletheroutoftheropesrightnow.

Sheseemedsomiserableitwashardnottocutherfree.I forced myself to look away. I urged the Queen Anne’s Revenge to go

faster.Istillcouldn’tseemuchoftheisland-justmistandrocks-butfloatinginthe

waterwerepiecesofwoodandfiberglass,thewreckageofoldships,evensomeflotationcushionsfromairplanes.

How couldmusic cause somany lives to veer off course? I mean, sure,thereweresomeTopFortysongsthatmademewanttotakeafierynosedive,butstill…WhatcouldtheSirenspossiblysingabout?

For one dangerous moment, I understood Annabeth’s curiosity. I wastemptedtotakeouttheearplugs,justtogetatasteofthesong.IcouldfeeltheSirens’voicesvibratinginthetimbersoftheship,pulsingalongwiththeroarofbloodinmyears.

Annabeth was pleading with me. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Shestrainedagainsttheropes,asiftheywereholdingherbackfromeverythingshecaredabout.

How could you be so cruel?She seemed to be askingme. I thought youweremyfriend.

I glared at themisty island. I wanted to uncapmy sword, but therewasnothingtofight.Howdoyoufightasong?

ItriedhardnottolookatAnnabeth.Imanageditforaboutfiveminutes.Thatwasmybigmistake.WhenIcouldn’tstanditanylonger,Ilookedbackandfound…aheapof

cutropes.Anemptymast.Annabeth’sbronzeknifelayonthedeck.Somehow,she’dmanagedtowriggleitintoherhand.I’dtotallyforgottentodisarmher.

Irushedtothesideoftheboatandsawher,paddlingmadlyfortheisland,thewavescarryingherstraighttowardthejaggedrocks.

Iscreamedhername,but ifsheheardme, itdidn’tdoanygood.Shewasentranced,swimmingtowardherdeath.

Ilookedbackatthepilot’swheelandyelled,“Stay!”ThenIjumpedovertheside.Islicedintothewaterandwilledthecurrentstobendaroundme,makinga

jetstreamthatshotmeforward.I came to the surface and spotted Annabeth, but a wave caught her,

sweepingherbetweentworazor-sharpfangsofrock.Ihadnochoice.Iplungedafterher.I dove under the wrecked hull of a yacht, wove through a collection of

floatingmetalballsonchainsthatIrealizedafterwardweremines.Ihadtouseallmypoweroverwatertoavoidgettingsmashedagainsttherocksortangledinthenetsofbarbedwirestrungjustbelowthesurface.

I jetted between the two rock fangs and found myself in a half-moon-shaped bay. The water was choked with more rocks and ship wreckage andfloatingmines.Thebeachwasblackvolcanicsand.

IlookedarounddesperatelyforAnnabeth.Thereshewas.Luckily or unluckily, she was a strong swimmer. She’dmade it past the

minesandtherocks.Shewasalmosttotheblackbeach.ThenthemistclearedandIsawthem-theSirens.Imagine a flock of vultures the size of people-with dirty black plumage,

graytalons,andwrinkledpinknecks.Nowimaginehumanheadsontopofthosenecks,butthehumanheadskeepchanging.

I couldn’t hear them, but I could see theywere singing.As theirmouthsmoved, their faces morphed into people I knew-my mom, Poseidon, Grover,Tyson,Chiron.All thepeople Imostwanted to see.Theysmiled reassuringly,inviting me forward. But no matter what shape they took, their mouths weregreasy and caked with the remnants of oldmeals. Like vultures, they’d beeneatingwith their faces,and itdidn’t look like they’dbeenfeastingonMonsterDonuts.

Annabethswamtowardthem.I knew I couldn’t let her get out of the water. The sea was my only

advantage. It had alwaysprotectedmeonewayor another. I propelledmyselfforwardandgrabbedherinkle.

ThemomentI touchedher,ashockwent throughmybody,andIsawtheSirensthewayAnnabethmust’vebeenseeingthem.

ThreepeoplesatonapicnicblanketinCentralPark.Afeastwasspreadoutbefore them. I recognized Annabeth’s dad from photos she’d shown me-anathletic-looking, sandy-hairedguy in his forties.Hewas holdinghandswith abeautifulwomanwho lookeda lot likeAnnabeth.Shewasdressedcasually-inblue jeansandadenimshirtandhikingboots-butsomethingabout thewomanradiatedpower.IknewthatIwaslookingatthegoddessAthena.Nexttothemsatayoungman…Luke.

Thewholesceneglowedinawarm,butterylight.Thethreeofthemweretalking and laughing, and when they saw Annabeth, their faces lit up withdelight.Annabeth’smomanddadheldout their arms invitingly.LukegrinnedandgesturedforAnnabethtositnexttohim-asifhe’dneverbetrayedher,asifhewerestillherfriend.

Behind the treesofCentralPark, a city skyline rose. I caughtmybreath,because itwasManhattan, but notManhattan. It had been totally rebuilt fromdazzlingwhitemarble,biggerandgrander thanever-withgoldenwindowsandrooftopgardens.ItwasbetterthanNewYork.BetterthanMountOlympus.

IknewimmediatelythatAnnabethhaddesigneditall.Shewasthearchitectforawholenewworld.Shehadreunitedherparents.ShehadsavedLuke.Shehaddoneeverythingshe’deverwanted.

Iblinkedhard.WhenIopenedmyeyes,all I sawwere theSirens-raggedvultureswithhumanfaces,readytofeedonanothervictim.

IpulledAnnabethbackintothesurf.Icouldn’thearher,butIcouldtellshewasscreaming.Shekickedmeintheface,butIheldon.

Iwilledthecurrentstocarryusoutintothebay.Annabethpummeledandkicked me, making it hard to concentrate. She thrashed so much we almostcollidedwithafloatingmine.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.I’dnevergetbacktotheshipaliveifshekeptfighting.

Wewent under andAnnabeth stopped struggling.Her expressionbecameconfused.Thenourheadsbrokethesurfaceandshestartedtofightagain.

Thewater! Sound didn’t travelwell underwater. If I could submerge herlongenough,Icouldbreakthespellofthemusic.Ofcourse,Annabethwouldn’tbeabletobreathe,butatthemoment,thatseemedlikeaminorproblem.

Igrabbedheraroundthewaistandorderedthewavestopushusdown.We shot into the depths-ten feet, twenty feet. I knew I had to be careful

because I couldwithstand a lotmore pressure thanAnnabeth. She fought andstruggledforbreathasbubblesrosearoundus.

Bubbles.Iwasdesperate.IhadtokeepAnnabethalive.Iimaginedallthebubblesin

thesea-alwayschurning,rising.Iimaginedthemcomingtogether,beingpulledtowardme.

Theseaobeyed.Therewasaflurryofwhite,aticklingsensationallaroundme, and when my vision cleared, Annabeth and I had a huge bubble of airaroundus.Onlyourlegsstuckintothewater.

Shegaspedandcoughed.Herwholebodyshuddered,butwhenshelookedatme,Iknewthespellhadbeenbroken.

Shestartedtosob-Imeanhorrible,heartbrokensobbing.Sheputherhead

onmyshoulderandIheldher.Fishgatheredtolookatus-aschoolofbarracudas,somecuriousmarlins.Scram!Itoldthem.Theyswamoff,butIcouldtelltheywentreluctantly.IswearIunderstood

theirintentions.TheywereabouttostartrumorsflyingaroundtheseaaboutthesonofPoseidonandsomegirlatthebottomofSirenBay.

“I’llgetusbacktotheship,”Itoldher.“It’sokay.Justhangon.”Annabethnoddedto letmeknowshewasbetternow, thenshemurmured

somethingIcouldn’thearbecauseofthewaxinmyears.Imadethecurrentsteerourweirdlittleairsubmarinethroughtherocksand

barbedwireandbacktowardthehulloftheQueenAnne’sRevenge,whichwasmaintainingaslowandsteadycourseawayfromtheisland.

Westayedunderwater,followingtheship,untilIjudgedwehadmovedoutofearshotoftheSirens.ThenIsurfacedandourairbubblepopped.

Iordereda rope ladder todropover thesideof theship,andweclimbedaboard.

I kept my earplugs in, just to be sure. We sailed until the island wascompletelyoutofsight.Annabethsathuddledinablanketontheforwarddeck.Finallyshelookedup,dazedandsad,andmouthed,safe.

Itookouttheearplugs.Nosinging.Theafternoonwasquietexceptforthesoundofthewavesagainstthehull.Thefoghadburnedawaytoabluesky,asiftheislandoftheSirenshadneverexisted.

“You okay?” I asked. The moment I said it, I realized how lame thatsounded.Ofcourseshewasn’tokay.

“Ididn’trealize,”shemurmured.“What?”Her eyes were the same color as themist over the Sirens’ island. “How

powerfulthetemptationwouldbe.”Ididn’twanttoadmitthatI’dseenwhattheSirenshadpromisedher.Ifelt

likeatrespasser.ButIfiguredIowedittoAnnabeth.“I saw the way you rebuiltManhattan,” I told her. “And Luke and your

parents.”Sheblushed.“Yousawthat?”“WhatLuke toldyoubackon thePrincessAndromeda,aboutstarting the

worldfromscratch…thatreallygottoyou,huh?”Shepulledherblanketaroundher.“Myfatal flaw.That’swhat theSirens

showedme.Myfatalflawishubris.”Iblinked.“Thatbrownstufftheyspreadonveggiesandwiches?”Sherolledhereyes.“No,SeaweedBrain.That’shummus.Hubrisisworse.”

“Whatcouldbeworsethanhummus?”“Hubrismeansdeadlypride,Percy.Thinkingyoucandothingsbetterthan

anyoneelse…eventhegods.”“Youfeelthatway?”She looked down. “Don’t you ever feel like, what if the world really is

messedup?What ifwecoulddo italloveragainfromscratch?Nomorewar.Nobodyhomeless.Nomoresummerreadinghomework.”

“I’mlistening.”“Imean,theWestrepresentsalotofthebestthingsmankindeverdid-that’s

whythefireisstillburning.That’swhyOlympusisstillaround.Butsometimesyoujustseethebadstuff,youknow?AndyoustartthinkingthewayLukedoes:‘IfIcouldtearthisalldown,Iwoulddoitbetter.’Don’tyoueverfeelthatway?Likeyoucoulddoabetterjobifyourantheworld?”

“Um…no.Merunningtheworldwouldkindofbeanightmare.”“Thenyou’relucky.Hubrisisn’tyourfatalflaw.”“Whatis?”“Idon’tknow,Percy,buteveryherohasone.Ifyoudon’tfinditandlearn

tocontrolit…well,theydon’tcallit‘fatal’fornothing.”Ithoughtaboutthat.Itdidn’texactlycheermeup.I also noticed Annabeth hadn’t said much about the personal things she

would change-like getting her parents back together, or saving Luke. Iunderstood. Ididn’twant toadmithowmanytimesI’ddreamedofgettingmyownparentsbacktogether.

Ipicturedmymom,aloneinourlittleapartmentontheUpperEastSide.Itriedtorememberthesmellofherbluewafflesinthekitchen.Itseemedsofaraway.

“Sowasitworthit?”IaskedAnnabeth.“Doyoufeel…wiser?”Shegazedintothedistance.“I’mnotsure.Butwehavetosavethecamp.If

wedon’tstopLuke…”She didn’t need to finish. If Luke’s way of thinking could even tempt

Annabeth,therewasnotellinghowmanyotherhalf-bloodsmightjoinhim.Ithoughtaboutmydreamofthegirlandthegoldensarcophagus.Iwasn’t

surewhat itmeant, but I got the feeling Iwasmissing something. SomethingterriblethatKronoswasplanning.Whathadthegirlseenwhensheopenedthatcoffinlid?

SuddenlyAnnabeth’seyeswidened.“Percy.”Iturned.Upaheadwasanotherblotchof land-asaddle-shaped islandwithforested

hillsandwhitebeachesandgreenmeadows-justlikeI’dseeninmydreams.

Mynauticalsensesconfirmedit.30degrees,31minutesnorth,75degrees,12minuteswest.

WehadreachedthehomeoftheCyclops.

FOURTEEN

WEMEETTHESHEEP

OFDOOM

When you think “monster island,” you think craggy rocks and bonesscatteredonthebeachliketheislandoftheSirens.

The Cyclops’s island was nothing like that. I mean, okay, it had a ropebridgeacrossachasm,whichwasnotagoodsign.Youmightaswellputupabillboardthatsaid,SOMETHINGEVILLIVESHERE.Butexceptforthat,theplacelookedlikeaCaribbeanpostcard.Ithadgreenfieldsandtropicalfruittreesand white beaches. As we sailed toward the shore, Annabeth breathed in thesweetair.“TheFleece,”shesaid.

Inodded. Icouldn’tsee theFleeceyet,but Icouldfeel itspower. Icouldbelieveitwouldhealanything,evenThalia’spoisonedtree.“Ifwetakeitaway,willtheislanddie?”

Annabethshookherhead.“It’llfade.Gobacktowhatitwouldbenormally,whateverthatis.”

I felt a littleguilty about ruining thisparadise, but I remindedmyselfwehadnochoice.CampHalf-Bloodwasintrouble.AndTyson…Tysonwouldstillbewithusifitwasn’tforthisquest.

Inthemeadowatthebaseoftheravine,severaldozensheepweremillingaround. They looked peaceful enough, but theywere huge-the size of hippos.Justpastthemwasapaththatledupintothehills.Atthetopofthepath,nearthe edge of the canyon, was the massive oak tree I’d seen in my dreams.Somethinggoldglitteredinitsbranches.

“Thisistooeasy,”Isaid.“Wecouldjusthikeupthereandtakeit?”Annabeth’seyesnarrowed.“There’ssupposedbeaguardian.Adragonor

…”That’swhen a deer emerged from thebushes. It trotted into themeadow,

probablylookingforgrasstoeat,whenthesheepallbleatedatonceandrushedtheanimal. Ithappenedso fast that thedeerstumbledandwas lost inaseaofwoolandtramplinghooves.

Grassandtuftsoffurflewintotheair.A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful

wanderings.Wherethedeerhadbeenwasapileofcleanwhitebones.AnnabethandIexchangedlooks.“They’relikepiranhas,”shesaid.“Piranhaswithwool.Howwillwe-““Percy!”Annabethgasped,grabbingmyarm.“Look.”

She pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where asmall boat had been run aground … the other lifeboat from the CSSBirmingham.

We decided there was no way we could get past the man-eating sheep.AnnabethwantedtosneakupthepathinvisiblyandgrabtheFleece,butintheendIconvincedherthatsomethingwouldgowrong.Thesheepwouldsmellher.Anotherguardianwouldappear.Something.Andifthathappened,I’dbetoofarawaytohelp.

Besides,ourfirstjobwastofindGroverandwhoeverhadcomeashoreinthat lifeboat-assuming they’d gotten past the sheep. I was too nervous to saywhatIwassecretlyhoping…thatTysonmightstillbealive.

WemooredtheQueenAnne’sRevengeonthebacksideoftheislandwherethecliffs rose straightupagood twohundred feet. I figured the shipwas lesslikelytobeseenthere.Thecliffs lookedclimbable,barely-aboutasdifficultasthe lava wall back at camp. At least it was free of sheep. I hoped thatPolyphemusdidnotalsokeepcarnivorousmountaingoats.

We roweda lifeboat to theedgeof the rocksandmadeourwayup,veryslowly.Annabethwentfirstbecauseshewasthebetterclimber.

Weonlycameclosetodyingsixorseventimes,whichIthoughtwasprettygood. Once, I lostmy grip and I foundmyself dangling by one hand from aledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But I found another handhold and keptclimbing. Aminute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her footslipped.Fortunately, she found somethingelse toput it against.Unfortunately,thatsomethingwasmyface.

“Sorry,”shemurmured.“S’okay,” I grunted, though I’d never really wanted to know what

Annabeth’ssneakertastedlike.Finally,whenmy fingers felt likemolten lead andmy armmuscleswere

shaking from exhaustion, we hauled ourselves over the top of the cliff andcollapsed.

“Ugh,”Isaid.“Ouch,”moanedAnnabeth.“Garrr!”bellowedanothervoice.If I hadn’t been so tired, I would’ve leaped another two hundred feet. I

whirledaround,butIcouldn’tseewho’dspoken.Annabethclampedherhandovermymouth.Shepointed.TheledgeweweresittingonwasnarrowerthanI’drealized.Itdroppedoff

ontheoppositeside,andthat’swherethevoicewascomingfrom-rightbelowus.“You’reafeistyone!”thedeepvoicebellowed.

“Challengeme!” Clarisse’s voice, no doubt about it. “Giveme backmyswordandI’llfightyou!”

Themonsterroaredwithlaughter.AnnabethandIcrepttotheedge.Wewererightabovetheentranceofthe

Cyclops’s cave. Below us stood Polyphemus andGrover, still in hisweddingdress.Clarissewastiedup,hangingupsidedownoverapotofboilingwater.Iwashalfhoping toseeTysondown there, too.Even ifhe’dbeen indanger,atleastIwould’veknownhewasalive.Buttherewasnosignofhim.

“Hmm,” Polyphemus pondered. “Eat loudmouth girl now or wait forweddingfeast?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’s eyelids narrowed over his balefulmilky eye, as if hewere

tryingtoseeClarissemoreclearly.The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight than he had been in my

dreams.Partlybecausehisrancidsmellwasnowupcloseandpersonal.Partlybecause hewas dressed in his wedding outfit-a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap,stitched together from baby-blue tuxedoes, as if the he’d skinned an entireweddingparty.

“Whatsatyr?”askedPolyphemus.“Satyrsaregoodeating.Youbringmeasatyr?”

“No,youbigidiot!”bellowedClarisse.“Thatsatyr!Grover!Theoneintheweddingdress!”

Iwanted towringClarisse’sneck,but itwas too late.All I coulddowaswatchasPolyphemusturnedandrippedoffGrover’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!”Polyphemus was hesitating, a boulder in his hand, ready to smash his

would-bebride.“Recipe?”heaskedGrover.“Ohy-yes!Youdon’twant toeatme raw.You’llgetEcoli andbotulism

and all sorts of horrible things. I’ll tastemuch better grilled over a slow fire.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.“Haveto

grazesheepnow.Weddingpostponeduntiltonight.Thenwe’lleatsatyrforthemaincourse!”

“But… you’re still getting married?” Grover sounded hurt. “Who’s thebride?”

Polyphemuslookedtowardtheboilingpot.Clarissemadeastrangledsound.“Oh,no!Youcan’tbeserious.I’mnot-“BeforeAnnabethor I coulddoanything,Polyphemuspluckedheroff the

rope like shewas a ripe apple, and tossedher andGrover deep into the cave.“Makeyourselfcomfortable!Icomebackatsundownforbigevent!”

Then theCyclopswhistled,andamixed flockofgoatsandsheep-smallerthantheman-eaters-floodedoutofthecaveandpasttheirmaster.Astheywentto pasture, Polyphemus patted some on the back and called them by name-Beltbuster,Tammany,Lockhart,etc.

Whenthelastsheephadwaddledout,Polyphemusrolledaboulderinfrontof the doorway as easily as Iwould close a refrigerator door, shutting off thesoundofClarisseandGroverscreaminginside.

“Mangos,”Polyphemusgrumbledtohimself.“Whataremangos?”Hestrolledoffdownthemountaininhisbaby-bluegroom’soutfit,leaving

usalonewithapotofboilingwaterandasix-tonboulder.We tried for what seemed like hours, but it was no good. The boulder

wouldn’tmove.Weyelledintothecracks,tappedontherock,dideverythingwecouldthinkoftogetasignaltoGrover,butifheheardus,wecouldn’ttell.

EvenifbysomemiraclewemanagedtokillPolyphemus,itwouldn’tdousanygood.GroverandClarissewoulddieinsidethatsealedcave.TheonlywaytomovetherockwastohavetheCyclopsdoit.

In total frustration, IstabbedRiptideagainst theboulder.Sparksflew,butnothingelsehappened.Alargerockisnotthekindofenemyyoucanfightwithamagicsword.

Annabeth and I sat on the ridge indespair andwatched thedistant baby-blueshapeoftheCyclopsashemovedamonghisflocks.Hehadwiselydividedhisregularanimalsfromhisman-eatingsheep,puttingeachgrouponeithersideof thehuge crevice that divided the island.Theonlywayacrosswas the ropebridge,andtheplanksweremuchtoofarapartforsheephooves.

Wewatched as Polyphemus visited his carnivorous flock on the far side.Unfortunately,theydidn’teathim.Infact,theydidn’tseemtobotherhimatall.He fed them chunks ofmysterymeat from a greatwicker basket,which onlyreinforcedthefeelingsI’dbeenhavingsinceCirceturnedmeintoaguineapig-thatmaybeitwastimeIjoinedGroverandbecameavegetarian.

“Trickery,”Annabethdecided.“Wecan’tbeathimbyforce,sowe’llhavetousetrickery.”

“Okay,”Isaid.“Whattrick?’“Ihaven’tfiguredthatpartoutyet.”“Great.”“Polyphemuswillhavetomovetherocktoletthesheepinside.”“Atsunset,”Isaid.“Whichiswhenhe’llmarryClarisseandhaveGrover

fordinner.I’mnotsurewhichisgrosser.”“Icouldgetinside,”shesaid,“invisibly.”“Whataboutme?”“The sheep,” Annabethmused. She gaveme one of those sly looks that

alwaysmademewary.“Howmuchdoyoulikesheep?”“Justdon’tletgo!”Annabethsaid,standinginvisiblysomewhereofftomy

right.Thatwaseasy forher to say.Shewasn’thangingupsidedown from thebellyofasheep.

Now, I’ll admit itwasn’t as hard as I’d thought. I’d crawled under a carbeforetochangemymom’soil,andthiswasn’ttoodifferent.Thesheepdidn’tcare.EventheCyclops’ssmallestsheepwerebigenoughtosupportmyweight,and they had thick wool. I just twirled the stuff into handles for my hands,hookedmy feet against the sheep’s thigh bones, and presto-I felt like a babywallaby,ridingaroundagainstthesheep’schest,tryingtokeepthewooloutof

mymouthandmynose.Incaseyou’rewondering,theundersideofasheepdoesn’tsmellthatgreat.

Imagine awinter sweater that’s been dragged through themud and left in thelaundryhamperforaweek.Somethinglikethat.

Thesunwasgoingdown.No sooner was I in position than the Cyclops roared, “Oy! Goaties!

Sheepies!”Theflockdutifullybegantrudgingbackuptheslopestowardthecave.“Thisisit!”Annabethwhispered.“I’llbecloseby.Don’tworry.”I made a silent promise to the gods that if we survived this, I’d tell

Annabethshewasagenius.Thefrighteningthingwas,Iknewthegodswouldholdmetoit.

Mysheeptaxistartedploddingupthehill.Afterahundredyards,myhandsandfeetstartedtohurtfromholdingon.Igrippedthesheep’swoolmoretightly,and the animal made a grumbling sound. I didn’t blame it. I wouldn’t wantanybodyrockclimbinginmyhaireither.ButifIdidn’tholdon,IwassureI’dfalloffrightthereinfrontofthemonster.

“Hasenpfeffer!” theCyclopssaid,pattingoneof thesheepinfrontofme.“Einstein!Widget-ehthere,Widget!”

Polyphemus patted my sheep and nearly knocked me to the ground.“Puttingonsomeextramuttonthere?”

Uh-oh,Ithought.Hereitcomes.ButPolyphemusjust laughedandswatted thesheep’srearend,propelling

usforward.“Goon,fatty!SoonPolyphemuswilleatyouforbreakfast!”Andjustlikethat,Iwasinthecave.Icouldseethelastofthesheepcominginside.IfAnnabethdidn’tpulloff

herdistractionsoon…The Cyclops was about to roll the stone back into place, when from

somewhereoutsideAnnabethshouted,“Hello,ugly!”Polyphemusstiffened.“Whosaidthat?”“Nobody!”Annabethyelled.That got exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for. The monster’s face

turnedredwithrage.“Nobody!”Polyphemusyelledback.“Irememberyou!”“You’re too stupid to rememberanybody,”Annabeth taunted. “Much less

Nobody.”I hoped to the gods shewas alreadymovingwhen she said that, because

Polyphemusbellowedfuriously,grabbedthenearestboulder(whichhappenedtobehisfrontdoor)andthrewittowardthesoundofAnnabeth’svoice.Iheardthe

rocksmashintoathousandfragments.For a terrible moment, there was silence. Then Annabeth shouted, “You

haven’tlearnedtothrowanybetter,either!”Polyphemushowled.“Comehere!Letmekillyou,Nobody!”“Youcan’tkillNobody,youstupidoaf,”shetaunted.“Comefindme!”Polyphemusbarreleddownthehilltowardhervoice.Now, the “Nobody” thing wouldn’t have made sense to anybody, but

AnnabethhadexplainedtomethatitwasthenameOdysseushadusedtotrickPolyphemuscenturiesago, rightbeforehepoked theCyclops’seyeoutwithalarge hot stick. Annabeth had figured Polyphemus would still have a grudgeaboutthatname,andshewasright.Inhisfrenzytofindhisoldenemy,heforgotabout resealing the cave entrance.Apparently, he didn’t even stop to considerthatAnnabeth’svoicewasfemale,whereasthefirstNobodyhadbeenmale.Ontheotherhand,he’dwantedtomarryGrover,sohecouldn’thavebeenall thatbrightaboutthewholemale/femalething.

I just hoped Annabeth could stay alive and keep distracting him longenoughformetofindGroverandClarisse.

I dropped off my ride, patted Widget on the head, and apologized. Isearchedthemainroom,but therewasnosignofGroverorClarisse.Ipushedthroughthecrowdofsheepandgoatstowardthebackofthecave.

Even though I’d dreamed about this place, I had a hard time findingmywaythroughthemaze.Irandowncorridorslitteredwithbones,pastroomsfullof sheepskin rugs and life-size cement sheep that I recognized as thework ofMedusa.Therewere collectionsof sheepT-shirts; large tubsof lanolin cream;andwoolycoats,socks,andhatswithram’shorns.Finally,Ifoundthespinningroom,whereGroverwas huddled in the corner, trying to cutClarisse’s bondswithapairofsafetyscissors.

“It’snogood,”Clarissesaid.“Thisropeislikeiron!”“Justafewmoreminutes!”“Grover,”shecried,exasperated.“You’vebeenworkingatitforhours!”Andthentheysawme.“Percy?”Clarissesaid.“You’resupposedtobeblownup!”“Goodtoseeyou,too.NowholdstillwhileI-““Perrrrrcy!”Grover bleated and tackledmewith a goat-hug. “You heard

me!Youcame!”“Yeah,buddy,”Isaid.“OfcourseIcame.”“Where’sAnnabeth?”“Outside,”Isaid.“Butthere’snotimetotalk.Clarisse,holdstill.”IuncappedRiptideandslicedoffherropes.Shestoodstiffly, rubbingher

wrists.Sheglaredatmeforamoment,thenlookedatthegroundandmumbled,“Thanks.”

“You’rewelcome,”Isaid.“Now,wasanyoneelseonboardyourlifeboat?”Clarisse looked surprised. “No. Just me. Everybody else aboard the

Birmingham…well,Ididn’tevenknowyouguysmadeitout.”Ilookeddown,tryingnottobelievethatmylasthopeofseeingTysonalive

hadjustbeencrushed.“Okay.Comeon,then.Wehavetohelp-“Anexplosionechoedthroughthecave,followedbyascreamthattoldme

wemightbetoolate.ItwasAnnabethcryingoutinfear.

FIFTEEN

NOBODYGETS

THEFLEECE

“IgotNobody!”Polyphemusgloated.We crept to the cave entrance and saw the Cyclops, grinning wickedly,

holdingupemptyair.Themonstershookhisfist,andabaseballcapflutteredtotheground.TherewasAnnabeth,hangingupsidedownbyherlegs.

“Hah!” theCyclopssaid.“Nasty invisiblegirl!Alreadygot feistyone forwife.Meansyougottabegrilledwithmangochutney!”

Annabeth struggled, but she looked dazed. She had a nasty cut on herforehead.Hereyeswereglassy.

“I’llrushhim,”IwhisperedtoClarisse.“Ourshipisaroundthebackoftheisland.YouandGrover-“

“Noway,” they said at the same time.Clarisse had armed herselfwith ahighlycollectiblerams-hornspearfromtheCyclops’scave.Groverhadfoundasheep’sthighbone,whichhedidn’tlooktoohappyabout,buthewasgrippingitlikeaclub,readytoattack.

“We’lltakehimtogether,”Clarissegrowled.“Yeah,” Grover said. Then he blinked, like he couldn’t believe he’d just

agreedwithClarisseaboutsomething.“Allright,”Isaid.“AttackplanMacedonia.”They nodded. We’d all taken the same training courses at Camp Half-

Blood.They knewwhat Iwas talking about.Theywould sneak around eithersideandattacktheCyclopsfromtheflankswhileIheldhisattentioninthefront.Probablywhat thismeantwas thatwe’d all die instead of justme, but Iwasgratefulforthehelp.

Iheftedmyswordandshouted,“Hey,Ugly!”Thegiantwhirledtowardme.“Anotherone?Whoareyou?”“Putdownmyfriend.I’mtheonewhoinsultedyou.”“YouareNobody?”“That’s right, you smelly bucket of nose drool!” It didn’t sound quite as

goodasAnnabeth’sinsults,butitwasallIcouldthinkof.“I’mNobodyandI’mproudof it!Now,putherdownandgetoverhere. Iwant tostabyoureyeoutagain.”

“RAAAR!”hebellowed.The good news: he dropped Annabeth. The bad news: he dropped her

headfirstontotherocks,whereshelaymotionlessasaragdoll.The other bad news: Polyphemus barreled towardme, a thousand smelly

poundsofCyclopsthatIwouldhavetofightwithaverysmallsword.“ForPan!”Groverrushedinfromtheright.Hethrewhissheepbone,which

bouncedharmlesslyoffthemonster’sforehead.Clarisseraninfromtheleftandset her spear against the ground just in time for theCyclops to step on it.Hewailedinpain,andClarissedoveoutofthewaytoavoidgettingtrampled.ButtheCyclopsjustpluckedouttheshaftlikealargesplinterandkeptadvancingonme.

ImovedinwithRiptide.The monster made a grab for me. I rolled aside and stabbed him in the

thigh.Iwashopingtoseehimdisintegrate,butthismonsterwasmuchtoobigand

powerful.“GetAnnabeth!”IyelledatGrover.He rushed over, grabbed her invisibility cap, and picked her up while

ClarisseandItriedtokeepPolyphemusdistracted.I have to admit, Clarisse was brave. She charged the Cyclops again and

again.Hepoundedtheground,stompedather,grabbedather,butshewastooquick.Andassoonasshemadeanattack,Ifollowedupbystabbingthemonsterinthetoeortheankleorthehand.

But we couldn’t keep this up forever. Eventually we would tire or themonsterwouldgetinaluckyshot.Itwouldonlytakeonehittokillus.

Out of the corner ofmy eye, I sawGrover carryingAnnabeth across theropebridge.Itwouldn’thavebeenmyfirstchoice,giventheman-eatingsheepon the other side, but at the moment that looked better than this side of thechasm,anditgavemeanidea.

“Fallback!”ItoldClarisse.SherolledawayastheCyclops’sfistsmashedtheolivetreebesideher.We ran for the bridge, Polyphemus right behind us. He was cut up and

hobbling from so many wounds, but all we’d done was slow him down andmakehimmad.

“Grind you into sheep chow!” he promised. “A thousand curses onNobody!”

“Faster!”ItoldClarisse.We tore down the hill. The bridgewas our only chance.Grover had just

made it to the other side andwas settingAnnabeth down.We had tomake itacross,too,beforethegiantcaughtus.

“Grover!”Iyelled.“GetAnnabeth’sknife!”HiseyeswidenedwhenhesawtheCyclopsbehindus,buthenoddedlike

he understood. As Clarisse and I scrambled across the bridge, Grover began

sawingattheropes.Thefirststrandwentsnap!Polyphemusboundedafterus,makingthebridgeswaywildly.Theropeswerenowhalfcut.ClarisseandIdoveforsolidground,landing

besideGrover.Imadeawildslashwithmyswordandcuttheremainingropes.The bridge fell away into the chasm, and the Cyclops howled … with

delight,becausehewasstandingrightnexttous.“Failed!”heyelledgleefully.“Nobodyfailed!”ClarisseandGrovertriedtochargehim,butthemonsterswattedthemaside

likeflies.Myangerswelled.Icouldn’tbelieveI’dcomethisfar,lostTyson,suffered

through somuch, only to fail-stopped by a big stupidmonster in a baby-bluetuxedo kilt.Nobodywas going to swat downmy friends like that! Imean…nobody,notNobody.Ah,youknowwhatImean.

Strength coursed through my body. I raised my sword and attacked,forgetting that Iwashopelesslyoutmatched. I jabbed theCyclops in thebelly.WhenhedoubledoverIsmackedhiminthenosewiththehiltofmysword.Islashed and kicked and bashed until the next thing I knew, Polyphemus wassprawledonhisback,dazedandgroaning,andIwasstandingabovehim,thetipofmyswordhoveringoverhiseye.

“Uhhhhhhhh,”Polyphemusmoaned.“Percy!”Grovergasped.“Howdidyou-““Please,noooo!”theCyclopsmoaned,pitifullystaringupatme.Hisnose

was bleeding. A tear welled in the corner of his half-blind eye. “M-m-mysheepiesneedme.Onlytryingtoprotectmysheep!”

Hebegantosob.Ihadwon.AllIhadtodowasstab-onequickstrike.“Killhim!”Clarisseyelled.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?”TheCyclopssoundedsoheartbroken,justlike…likeTyson.“He’saCyclops!”Groverwarned.“Don’ttrusthim!”Iknewhewasright.IknewAnnabethwould’vesaidthesamething.ButPolyphemussobbed…andforthefirsttimeitsankinthathewasason

ofPoseidon,too.LikeTyson.Likeme.HowcouldIjustkillhimincoldblood?“WeonlywanttheFleece,”Itoldthemonster.“Willyouagreetoletustake

it?”“No!”Clarisseshouted.“Killhim!”Themonstersniffed.“MybeautifulFleece.Prizeofmycollection.Takeit,

cruelhuman.Takeitandgoinpeace.”“I’mgoingtostepbackslowly,”Itoldthemonster.“Onefalsemove…”

Polyphemusnoddedlikeheunderstood.I steppedback…andas fastasacobra,Polyphemussmackedme to the

edgeofthecliff.“Foolishmortal!”hebellowed, rising tohis feet. “TakemyFleece?Ha! I

eatyoufirst.”Heopenedhisenormousmouth,andIknewthathisrottenmolarswerethe

lastthingsIwouldeversee.Thensomethingwentwhooshovermyheadandthump!ArockthesizeofabasketballsailedintoPolyphemus’s throat-abeautiful

three-pointer, nothing but net. The Cyclops choked, trying to swallow theunexpectedpill.Hestaggeredbackward,buttherewasnoplacetostagger.Hisheel slipped, the edge of the cliff crumbled, and the great Polyphemus madechickenwingmotions that did nothing to help him fly as he tumbled into thechasm.

Iturned.Halfwaydownthepathtothebeach,standingcompletelyunharmedinthe

midstofaflockofkillersheep,wasanoldfriend.“BadPolyphemus,”Tysonsaid.“NotallCyclopesasniceaswelook.”Tyson gave us the short version: Rainbow the hippocampus-who’d

apparently been following us ever since the Long Island Sound, waiting forTyson to playwithhim-had foundTyson sinkingbeneath thewreckageof theCSSBirminghamandpulledhimtosafety.HeandTysonhadbeensearchingtheSea ofMonsters ever since, trying to find us, until Tyson caught the scent ofsheepandfoundthisisland.

Iwantedtohugthebigoaf,excepthewasstandinginthemiddleofkillersheep.“Tyson,thankthegods.Annabethishurt!”

“Youthankthegodssheishurt?”heasked,puzzled.“No!” I knelt besideAnnabeth andwasworried sick bywhat I saw.The

gashonherforeheadwasworsethanI’drealized.Herhairlinewasstickywithblood.Herskinwaspaleandclammy.

GroverandIexchangednervouslooks.Thenanideacametome.“Tyson,theFleece.Canyougetitforme?”

“Whichone?”Tysonsaid,lookingaroundatthehundredsofsheep.“Inthetree!”Isaid.“Thegoldone!”“Oh.Pretty.Yes.”Tysonlumberedover,carefulnottosteponthesheep.Ifanyofushadtried

toapproachtheFleece,wewould’vebeeneatenalive,butIguessTysonsmelledlikePolyphemus,becausetheflockdidn’tbotherhimatall.Theyjustcuddledupto him and bleated affectionately, as though they expected to get sheep treats

fromthebigwickerbasket.TysonreachedupandliftedtheFleeceoffitsbranch.Immediatelytheleavesontheoaktreeturnedyellow.Tysonstartedwadingbacktowardme,butIyelled,“Notime!Throwit!”

The gold ram skin sailed through the air like a glittering shag Frisbee. Icaughtitwithagrunt.ItwasheavierthanI’dexpected-sixtyorseventypoundsofpreciousgoldwool.

I spread it over Annabeth, covering everything but her face, and prayedsilentlytoallthegodsIcouldthinkof,eventheonesIdidn’tlike.

Please.Please.Thecolor returned toher face.Hereyelids flutteredopen.Thecutonher

forehead began to close. She saw Grover and said weakly, “You’re not…married?”

Grovergrinned.“No.Myfriendstalkedmeoutofit.”“Annabeth,”Isaid,“justlaystill.”Butdespiteourprotests she satup, and Inoticed that thecutonher face

wasalmost completelyhealed.She lookeda lotbetter. In fact, she shimmeredwithhealth,asifsomeonehadinjectedherwithglitter.

Meanwhile,Tysonwasstartingtohavetroublewiththesheep.“Down!”hetoldthemastheytriedtoclimbhim,lookingforfood.Afewweresniffinginourdirection.“No,sheepies.Thisway!Comehere!”

They heeded him, but it was obvious they were hungry, and they werestartingtorealizeTysondidn’thaveanytreatsforthem.Theywouldn’tholdoutforeverwithsomuchfreshmeatnearby.

“Wehavetogo,”Isaid.“Ourshipis…”TheQueenAnne’sRevengewasavery longway away. The shortest routewas across the chasm, andwe’d justdestroyedtheonlybridge.Theonlyotherpossibilitywasthroughthesheep.

“Tyson,”Icalled,“canyouleadtheflockasfarawayaspossible?”“Thesheepwantfood.”“Iknow!Theywantpeoplefood!Justleadthemawayfromthepath.Give

ustimetogettothebeach.Thenjoinusthere.”Tysonlookeddoubtful,buthewhistled.“Come,sheepies!Um,peoplefood

thisway!”Hejoggedoffintothemeadow,thesheepinpursuit.“Keep the Fleece around you,” I toldAnnabeth. “Just in case you’re not

fullyhealedyet.Canyoustand?”Shetried,butherfaceturnedpaleagain.“Ohh.Notfullyhealed.”Clarissedroppednexttoherandfeltherchest,whichmadeAnnabethgasp.“Ribsbroken,”Clarissesaid.“They’remending,butdefinitelybroken.”“Howcanyoutell?”Iasked.

Clarisseglaredatme.“BecauseI’vebrokenafew,runt!I’llhavetocarryher.”

BeforeIcouldargue,ClarissepickedupAnnabethlikeasackofflourandluggedherdowntothebeach.GroverandIfollowed.

As soonaswegot to the edgeof thewater, I concentratedon theQueenAnne’sRevenge.Iwilledittoraiseanchorandcometome.Afterafewanxiousminutes,Isawtheshiproundingthetipoftheisland.

“Incoming!”Tysonyelled.Hewasboundingdownthepathtojoinus,thesheepaboutfiftyyardsbehind,bleatinginfrustrationastheirCyclopsfriendranawaywithoutfeedingthem.

“Theyprobablywon’tfollowusintothewater,”Itoldtheothers.“Allwehavetodoisswimfortheship.”

“WithAnnabethlikethis?”Clarisseprotested.“Wecandoit,”Iinsisted.Iwasstartingtofeelconfidentagain.Iwasback

inmyhometurf-thesea.“Oncewegettotheship,we’rehomefree.”Wealmostmadeit,too.We were just wading past the entrance to the ravine, when we heard a

tremendous roar and saw Polyphemus, scraped up and bruised but still verymuchalive,hisbaby-blueweddingoutfit in tatters,splashingtowarduswithaboulderineachhand.

SIXTEEN

IGODOWN

WITHTHESHIP

“You’dthinkhe’drunoutofrocks,”Imuttered.“Swimforit!”Groversaid.HeandClarisseplungedintothesurf.AnnabethhungontoClarisse’sneck

andtriedtopaddlewithonehand,thewetFleeceweighingherdown.Butthemonster’sattentionwasn’tontheFleece.“You,youngCyclops!”Polyphemusroared.“Traitortoyourkind!”Tysonfroze.“Don’tlistentohim!”Ipleaded.“Comeon.”IpulledTyson’sarm,butImightaswellhavebeenpullingamountain.He

turnedandfacedtheolderCyclops.“Iamnotatraitor.”“Youservemortals!”Polyphemusshouted.“Thievinghumans!”Polyphemusthrewhisfirstboulder.Tysonswatteditasidewithhisfist.“Notatraitor,”Tysonsaid.“Andyouarenotmykind.”“Deathorvictory!”Polyphemuschargedintothesurf,buthisfootwasstill

wounded.He immediately stumbled and fell on his face. Thatwould’ve beenfunny,excepthestartedtogetupagain,spittingsaltwaterandgrowling.

“Percy!”Clarisseyelled.“Comeon!”They were almost to the ship with the Fleece. If I could just keep the

monsterdistractedalittlelonger…“Go,”Tysontoldme.“IwillholdBigUgly.”“No!He’llkillyou.”I’dalreadylostTysononce.Iwasn’tgoingtolosehim

again.“We’llfighthimtogether.”“Together,”Tysonagreed.Idrewmysword.Polyphemus advanced carefully, limping worse than ever. But there was

nothingwrongwithhisthrowingarm.Hechuckedhissecondboulder.Idovetoone side, but I stillwould’ve been squashed if Tyson’s fist hadn’t blasted therocktorubble.

I willed the sea to rise. A twenty-foot wave surged up, liftingme on itscrest.IrodetowardtheCyclopsandkickedhimintheeye,leapingoverhisheadasthewaterblastedhimontothebeach.

“Destroyyou!”Polyphemusspluttered.“Fleecestealer!”“YoustoletheFleece!”Iyelled.“You’vebeenusingittoluresatyrstotheir

deaths!”“So?Satyrsgoodeating!”

“TheFleeceshouldbeusedtoheal!Itbelongstothechildrenofthegods!”“I ama childof thegods!”Polyphemus swipedatme,but I sidestepped.

“Father Poseidon, curse this thief!” He was blinking hard now, like he couldbarelysee,andIrealizedhewastargetingbythesoundofmyvoice.

“Poseidonwon’tcurseme,”Isaid,backingupastheCyclopsgrabbedair.“I’mhisson,too.Hewon’tplayfavorites.”

Polyphemusroared.Herippedanolivetreeoutofthesideofthecliffandsmashed itwhere I’dbeen standingamomentbefore. “Humansnot the same!Nasty,tricky,lying!”

Grover was helping Annabeth aboard the ship. Clarisse was wavingfranticallyatme,tellingmetocomeon.

TysonworkedhiswayaroundPolyphemus,tryingtogetbehindhim.“Youngone!”theolderCyclopscalled.“Whereareyou?Helpme!”Tysonstopped.“Youweren’traisedright!”Polyphemuswailed,shakinghisolivetreeclub.

“Poororphanedbrother!Helpme!”Noonemoved.Nosoundbuttheoceanandmyownheartbeat.ThenTyson

stepped forward, raising his hands defensively. “Don’t fight, Cyclops brother.Putdownthe-“

Polyphemusspuntowardhisvoice.“Tyson!”Ishouted.Thetreestruckhimwithsuchforce itwould’veflattenedmeintoaPercy

pizza with extra olives. Tyson flew backward, plowing a trench in the sand.Polyphemuschargedafterhim,butIshouted,“No!”andlungedasfarasIcouldwith Riptide. I’d hoped to sting Polyphemus in the back of the thigh, but Imanagedtoleapalittlebithigher.

“Blaaaaah!”Polyphemusbleatedjustlikehissheep,andswungatmewithhistree.

Idove,butstillgotrakedacrossthebackbyadozenjaggedbranches.Iwasbleedingandbruisedandexhausted.Theguineapig insidemewanted tobolt.ButIswalloweddownmyfear.

Polyphemus swung the tree again, but this time Iwas ready. I grabbed abranchasitpassed,ignoringthepaininmyhandsasIwasjerkedskyward,andlettheCyclopsliftmeintotheair.AtthetopofthearcIletgoandfellstraightagainstthegiant’sface-landingwithbothfeetonhisalreadydamagedeye.

Polyphemusyowledinpain.Tysontackledhim,pullinghimdown.Ilandednexttothem-swordinhand,withinstrikingdistanceofthemonster’sheart.ButIlockedeyeswithTyson,andIknewIcouldn’tdoit.Itjustwasn’tright.

“Lethimgo,”ItoldTyson.“Run.”

Withonelastmightyeffort,TysonpushedthecursingolderCyclopsaway,andweranforthesurf.

“I will smash you.’” Polyphemus yelled, doubling over in pain. Hisenormoushandscuppedoverhiseye.

TysonandIplungedintothewaves.“Where are you?”Polyphemus screamed.Hepickeduphis tree club and

threwitintothewater.Itsplashedofftoourright.Isummonedupacurrent tocarryus,andwestartedgainingspeed. Iwas

beginningtothinkwemightmakeittotheship,whenClarisseshoutedfromthedeck,“Yeah,Jackson!Inyourface,Cyclops!”

Shutup,Iwantedtoyell.“Rarrr!”Polyphemuspickedupaboulder.Hethrewittowardthesoundof

Clarisse’svoice,butitfellshort,narrowlymissingTysonandme.“Yeah,yeah!”Clarissetaunted.“Youthrowlikeawimp!Teachyoutotry

marryingme,youidiot!”“Clarisse!”Iyelled,unabletostandit.“Shutup!”Too late. Polyphemus threw another boulder, and this time I watched

helplesslyasitsailedovermyheadandcrashedthroughthehullof theQueenAnne’sRevenge.

Youwouldn’tbelievehowfastashipcansink.TheQueenAnne’sRevengecreaked and groaned and listed forward like it was going down a playgroundslide.

Icursed,willingtheseatopushusfaster,buttheship’smastswerealreadygoingunder.

“Dive!” I told Tyson. And as another rock sailed over our heads, weplungedunderwater.

My friendswere sinking fast, trying to swim,without luck, in thebubblytrailoftheship’swreckage.

Notmanypeoplerealizethatwhenashipgoesdown,itactslikeasinkhole,pullingdowneverythingaroundit.Clarissewasastrongswimmer,butevenshewasn’t making any progress. Grover frantically kicked with his hooves.AnnabethwashangingontotheFleece,whichflashedinthewaterlikeawaveofnewpennies.

Iswamtowardthem,knowingthatImightnothavethestrengthtopullmyfriends out.Worse, pieces of timber were swirling around them; none of mypowerwithwaterwouldhelpifIgotwhackedontheheadbyabeam.

Weneedhelp,Ithought.Yes.Tyson’svoice,loudandclearinmyhead.I looked over at him, startled. I’d heard Nereids and other water spirits

speaktomeunderwaterbefore,butitneveroccurredtome…TysonwasasonofPoseidon.Wecouldcommunicatewitheachother.

Rainbow,Tysonsaid.I nodded, then closed my eyes and concentrated, adding my voice to

Tyson’s:RAINBOW!Weneedyou!Immediately, shapes shimmered in the darkness below-three horses with

fish tails, galloping upward faster than dolphins. Rainbow and his friendsglancedinourdirectionandseemedtoreadourthoughts.Theywhiskedintothewreckage, and a moment later burst upward in a cloud of bubbles-Grover,Annabeth,andClarisseeachclingingtotheneckofahippocampus.

Rainbow,thelargest,hadClarisse.HeracedovertousandallowedTysontograbholdofhismane.HisfriendwhoboreAnnabethdidthesameforme.

We broke the surface of the water and raced away from Polyphemus’sisland.Behindus,IcouldheartheCyclopsroaringintriumph,“Ididit!IfinallysankNobody!”

Ihopedheneverfoundouthewaswrong.We skimmed across the sea as the island shrank to a dot and then

disappeared.“Didit,”Annabethmutteredinexhaustion.“We…”Sheslumpedagainsttheneckofthehippocampusandinstantlyfellasleep.Ididn’tknowhowfar thehippocampicouldtakeus.Ididn’tknowwhere

weweregoing.IjustproppedupAnnabethsoshewouldn’tfalloff,coveredherin theGoldenFleece thatwe’dbeen throughsomuch toget, andsaida silentprayerofthanks.

Whichremindedme…Istillowedthegodsadebt.“You’reagenius,”ItoldAnnabethquietly.ThenIputmyheadagainsttheFleece,andbeforeIknewit,Iwasasleep,

too.

SEVENTEEN

WEGETASURPRISE

ONMIAMIBEACH

“Percy,wakeup.”Saltwatersplashedmyface.Annabethwasshakingmyshoulder.In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. I could see a

beachsidehighwaylinedwithpalmtrees,storefrontsglowingwithredandblueneon,aharborfilledwithsailboatsandcruiseships.

“Miami,Ithink,”Annabethsaid.“Butthehippocampiareactingfunny.”Sureenough,ourfishyfriendshadsloweddownandwerewhinnyingand

swimming in circles, sniffing thewater.Theydidn’t look happy.Oneof themsneezed.Icouldtellwhattheywerethinking.

“This is as far as they’ll take us,” I said. “Toomany humans. Toomuchpollution.We’llhavetoswimtoshoreonourown.”

Noneofuswasverypsychedaboutthat,butwethankedRainbowandhisfriendsfortheride.Tysoncriedalittle.Heunfastenedthemakeshiftsaddlepackhe’d made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he’dsalvaged from the Birminghamwreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck,gavehimasoggymangohe’dpickedupontheisland,andsaidgood-bye.

Oncethehippocampi’swhitemanesdisappearedintothesea,weswamforshore.Thewavespushedusforward,andinnotimewewerebackinthemortalworld. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds ofpeoplearrivingforvacations.Portersbustledaroundwithcartsofluggage.TaxidriversyelledateachotherinSpanishandtriedtocutinlineforcustomers.Ifanybody noticed us-five kids dripping wet and looking like they’d just had afightwithamonster-theydidn’tleton.

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson’s single eye had blurredfrom theMist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece hadtransformedfromasheepskintoared-and-goldhighschoolletterjacketwithalargeglitteryOmegaonthepocket.

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on theMiamiHerald.Shecursed.“Juneeighteenth!We’vebeenawayfromcamptendays!”

“That’simpossible!”Clarissesaid.ButIknewitwasn’t.Timetraveleddifferentlyinmonstrousplaces.“Thalia’s treemust be almost dead,”Groverwailed. “Wehave to get the

Fleecebacktonight.”Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. “How are we supposed to do

that?”Hervoicetrembled.“We’rehundredsofmilesaway.Nomoney.Noride.This is just like the Oracle said. It’s your fault, Jackson! If you hadn’tinterfered-“

“Percy’sfault?!”Annabethexploded.“Clarisse,howcanyousaythat?Youarethebiggest-“

“Stopit!”Isaid.Clarisseputherheadinhands.Annabethstompedherfootinfrustration.The thing was: I’d almost forgotten this quest was supposed to be

Clarisse’s.Forascarymoment,Isawthingsfromherpointofview.HowwouldIfeelifabunchofotherheroeshadbuttedinandmademelookbad?

I thought about what I’d overheard in the boiler room of the CSSBirmingham-AresyellingatClarisse,warningherthatshe’dbetternotfail.Arescouldn’tcarelessaboutthecamp,butifClarissemadehimlookbad…

“Clarisse,”Isaid,“whatdidtheOracletellyouexactly?”Shelookedup.Ithoughtshewasgoingtotellmeoff,butinsteadshetooka

deepbreathandrecitedherprophecy:“Youshallsailtheironshipwithwarriorsofbone,Youshallfindwhatyouseekandmakeityourown,Butdespairforyourlifeentombedwithinstone,Andfailwithoutfriends,toflyhomealone.”“Ouch,”Grovermumbled.“No,”Isaid.“No…waitaminute.I’vegotit.”Isearchedmypocketsformoney,andfoundnothingbutagoldendrachma.

“Doesanybodyhaveanycash?”Annabeth and Grover shook their heads morosely. Clarisse pulled a wet

Confederatedollarfromherpocketandsighed.“Cash?”Tysonaskedhesitantly.“Like…greenpaper?”Ilookedathim.“Yeah.”“Likethekindinduffelbags?”“Yeah,butwelostthosebagsdaysa-g-g-“Istuttered toahaltasTysonrummagedinhissaddlepackandpulledout

theZiplocbagfullofcashthatHermeshadincludedinoursupplies.“Tyson!”Isaid.“Howdidyou-““ThoughtitwasafeedbagforRainbow,”hesaid.“Founditfloatinginsea,

butonlypaperinside.Sorry.”Hehandedmethecash.Fivesandtens,atleastthreehundreddollars.I ran to the curb and grabbed a taxi thatwas just letting out a family of

cruisepassengers. “Clarisse,” I yelled. “Comeon.You’regoing to the airport.Annabeth,givehertheFleece.”

I’mnotsurewhichofthemlookedmorestunnedasItooktheFleeceletterjacket fromAnnabeth, tucked the cash into its pocket, and put it inClarisse’sarms.

Clarissesaid,“You’dletme-““It’s your quest,” I said. “We only have enough money for one flight.

Besides,Ican’ttravelbyair.Zeuswouldblastmeintoamillionpieces.That’swhat the prophecymeant: you’d failwithout friends,meaningyou’dneedourhelp,butyou’dhavetoflyhomealone.YouhavetogettheFleecebacksafely.”

I could see hermindworking-suspicious at first, wonderingwhat trick Iwasplaying,thenfinallydecidingImeantwhatIsaid.

Shejumpedinthecab.“Youcancountonme.Iwon’tfail.”“Notfailingwouldbegood.”Thecabpeeledoutinacloudofexhaust.TheFleecewasonitsway.“Percy,”Annabethsaid,“thatwasso-““Generous?”Groveroffered.“Insane,” Annabeth corrected. “You’re betting the lives of everybody at

campthatClarissewillgettheFleecesafelybackbytonight?”“It’sherquest,”Isaid.“Shedeservesachance.”“Percyisnice,”Tysonsaid.“Percy is toonice,”Annabethgrumbled,but I couldn’thelp thinking that

maybe, justmaybe, shewasa little impressed. I’d surprisedher, anyway.Andthatwasn’teasytodo.

“Comeon,”Itoldmyfriends.“Let’sfindanotherwayhome.”That’swhenIturnedandfoundasword’spointatmythroat.“Hey,cuz,”saidLuke.“WelcomebacktotheStates.”Hisbear-manthugsappearedoneitherofsideofus.OnegrabbedAnnabeth

and Grover by their T-shirt collars. The other tried to grab Tyson, but TysonknockedhimintoapileofluggageandroaredatLuke.

“Percy,”Lukesaidcalmly,“tellyourgianttobackdownorI’llhaveOreiusbashyourfriends’headstogether.”

OreiusgrinnedandraisedAnnabethandGroverofftheground,kickingandscreaming.

“Whatdoyouwant,Luke?”Igrowled.Hesmiled,thescarripplingonthesideofhisface.Hegesturedtowardtheendofthedock,andInoticedwhatshould’vebeen

obvious.ThebiggestboatinportwasthePrincessAndromeda.“Why,Percy,”Lukesaid,“Iwanttoextendmyhospitality,ofcourse.”Thebear twinsherdedusaboard thePrincessAndromeda.They threwus

downontheaftdeckinfrontofaswimmingpoolwithsparklingfountainsthat

sprayed into the air. A dozen of Luke’s assorted goons-snake people,Laistrygonians, demigods in battle armor-had gathered to watch us get some“hospitality.”

“And so, the Fleece,” Luke mused. “Where is it?” He looked us over,proddingmyshirtwiththetipofhissword,pokingGrover’sjeans.

“Hey!”Groveryelled.“That’srealgoatfurunderthere!”“Sorry,oldfriend.”Lukesmiled.“JustgivemetheFleeceandI’llleaveyou

toreturntoyour,ah,littlenaturequest.”“Blaa-ha-ha!”Groverprotested.“Someoldfriend!”“Maybeyoudidn’thearme.”Luke’svoicewasdangerouslycalm.“Where-

is-the-Fleece?”“Nothere,”Isaid.Iprobablyshouldn’thavetoldhimanything,butitfelt

goodtothrowthetruthinhisface.“Wesentitonaheadofus.Youmessedup.”Luke’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. You couldn’t have …” His face

reddenedasahorriblepossibilityoccurredtohim.“Clarisse?”Inodded.“Youtrusted…yougave…”“Yeah.”“Agrius!”Thebeargiantflinched.“Y-yes?”“Getbelowandpreparemysteed.Bringittothedeck.Ineedtoflytothe

MiamiAirport,fast.’”“But,boss-““Doit!”Lukescreamed.“OrI’llfeedyoutothedrakon!”Thebear-mangulpedandlumbereddownthestairs.Lukepacedinfrontof

the swimmingpool, cursing inAncientGreek, gripping his sword so tight hisknucklesturnedwhite.

TherestofLuke’screwlookeduneasy.Maybethey’dneverseentheirbosssounhingedbefore.

I started thinking … If I could use Luke’s anger, get him to talk soeverybodycouldhearhowcrazyhisplanswere…

Ilookedattheswimmingpool,at thefountainssprayingmistintotheair,makingarainbowinthesunset.AndsuddenlyIhadanidea.

“You’vebeentoyingwithusallalong,”Isaid.“YouwantedustobringyoutheFleeceandsaveyouthetroubleofgettingit.”

Lukescowled.“Ofcourse,youidiot!Andyou’vemessedeverythingup!”“Traitor!” I dugmy last gold drachma out ofmy pocket and threw it at

Luke.AsIexpected,hedodgediteasily.Thecoinsailedintothesprayofrainbow-coloredwater.

I hoped my prayer would be accepted in silence. I thought with all myheart:Ogoddess,acceptmyoffering.

“You tricked all of us!” I yelled at Luke. “Even DIONYSUS at CAMPHALF-BLOOD!”

Behind Luke, the fountain began to shimmer, but I needed everyone’sattentiononme,soIuncappedRiptide.

Lukejustsneered.“Thisisnotimeforheroics,Percy.Dropyourpunylittlesword,orI’llhaveyoukilledsoonerratherthanlater.”

“WhopoisonedThalia’stree,Luke?”“Idid,ofcourse,”hesnarled.“Ialreadytoldyouthat.Iusedelderpython

venom,straightfromthedepthsofTartarus.”“Chironhadnothingtodowithit?”“Ha!You know hewould never do that. The old foolwouldn’t have the

guts.”“Youcallitguts?Betrayingyourfriends?Endangeringthewholecamp?”Lukeraisedhissword.“Youdon’tunderstandthehalfofit.Iwasgoingto

letyoutaketheFleece…onceIwasdonewithit.”Thatmademehesitate.WhywouldheletmetaketheFleece?Hemust’ve

beenlying.ButIcouldn’taffordtolosehisattention.“YouweregoingtohealKronos,”Isaid.“Yes!TheFleece’smagicwould’vespedhismendingprocessby tenfold.

Butyouhaven’tstoppedus,Percy.You’veonlyslowedusdownalittle.”“And so you poisoned the tree, you betrayedThalia, you set us up-all to

helpKronosdestroythegods.”Lukegrittedhisteeth.“Youknowthat!Whydoyoukeepaskingme?”“BecauseIwanteverybodyintheaudiencetohearyou.”“Whataudience?”Thenhiseyesnarrowed.Helookedbehindhimandhisgoonsdidthesame.

Theygaspedandstumbledback.Above the pool, shimmering in the rainbow mist, was an Iris-message

visionofDionysus,Tantalus,and thewholecampin thediningpavilion.Theysatinstunnedsilence,watchingus.

“Well,”saidDionysusdryly,“someunplanneddinnerentertainment.”“Mr.D,youheardhim,”Isaid.“YouallheardLuke.Thepoisoningofthe

treewasn’tChiron’sfault.”Mr.Dsighed.“Isupposenot.”“The Iris-message could be a trick,”Tantalus suggested, but his attention

wasmostlyonhischeeseburger,whichhewastryingtocornerwithbothhands.“Ifearnot,”Mr.Dsaid,lookingwithdistasteatTantalus.“ItappearsIshall

havetoreinstateChironasactivitiesdirector.IsupposeIdomisstheoldhorse’spinochlegames.”

Tantalusgrabbedthecheeseburger.Itdidn’tboltawayfromhim.Helifteditfromtheplateandstaredatitinamazement,asifitwerethelargestdiamondintheworld.“Igotit!”hecackled.

“Wearenolongerinneedofyourservices,Tantalus,”Mr.Dannounced.Tantaluslookedstunned.“What?But-““YoumayreturntotheUnderworld.Youaredismissed.”“No!But-Nooooooooooo!”Ashedissolvedintomist,hisfingersclutchedatthecheeseburger,tryingto

bringit tohismouth.Butitwastoolate.Hedisappearedandthecheeseburgerfellbackontoitsplate.Thecampersexplodedintocheering.

Luke bellowedwith rage.He slashed his sword through the fountain andtheIris-messagedissolved,butthedeedwasdone.

Iwas feelingprettygood aboutmyself, untilLuke turned andgaveme amurderouslook.

“Kronos was right, Percy. You’re an unreliable weapon. You need to bereplaced.”

Iwasn’tsurewhathemeant,butIdidn’thavetimetothinkaboutit.Oneofhis men blew a brass whistle, and the deck doors flew open. A dozen morewarriors poured out, making a circle around us, the brass tips of their spearsbristling.

Lukesmiledatme.“You’llneverleavethisboatalive.”

EIGHTEEN

THEPARTYPONIES

INVADE

“Oneonone,”IchallengedLuke.“Whatareyouafraidof?”Luke curled his lip. The soldiers who were about to kill us hesitated,

waitingforhisorder.Before he could say anything, Agrius, the bear-man, burst onto the deck

leading a flying horse. Itwas the first pure-black pegasus I’d ever seen,withwings like a giant raven. The pegasus mare bucked and whinnied. I couldunderstandher thoughts.ShewascallingAgriusandLukesomenamessobadChironwould’vewashedhermuzzleoutwithsaddlesoap.

“Sir!”Agriuscalled,dodgingapegasushoof.“Yoursteedisready!”Lukekepthiseyesonme.“Itoldyoulastsummer,Percy,”hesaid.“Youcan’tbaitmeintoafight.”“Andyoukeepavoidingone,”Inoticed.“Scaredyourwarriorswillseeyou

getwhipped?”Lukeglancedathismen,andhesawI’d trappedhim. Ifhebackeddown

now,hewouldlookweak.Ifhefoughtme,he’dlosevaluabletimechasingafterClarisse.Formypart, thebestIcouldhopeforwas todistracthim,givingmyfriendsachancetoescape.Ifanybodycouldthinkofaplantogetthemoutofthere,Annabethcould.Onthedownside,IknewhowgoodLukewasatsword-fighting.

“I’llkillyouquickly,”hedecided,andraisedhisweapon.Backbiterwasafootlongerthanmyownsword.Itsbladeglintedwithanevilgray-and-goldlightwherethehumansteelhadbeenmeldedwithcelestialbronze.Icouldalmostfeelthe blade fighting against itself, like two opposingmagnets bound together. Ididn’tknowhowthebladehadbeenmade,butIsensedatragedy.Someonehaddied in theprocess.Lukewhistled tooneofhismen,who threwhima roundleather-and-bronzeshield.

Hegrinnedatmewickedly.“Luke,”Annabethsaid,“atleastgivehimashield.”“Sorry,Annabeth,”hesaid.“Youbringyourownequipmenttothisparty.”Theshieldwasaproblem.Fightingtwo-handedwithjustaswordgivesyou

morepower,butfightingone-handedwithashieldgivesyoubetterdefenseandversatility. There aremoremoves,more options,moreways to kill. I thoughtbacktoChiron,who’dtoldmetostayatcampnomatterwhat,andlearntofight.NowIwasgoingtopayfornotlisteningtohim.

Lukelungedandalmostkilledmeonthefirsttry.Hisswordwentundermy

arm,slashingthroughmyshirtandgrazingmyribs.I jumpedback, then counterattackedwithRiptide, butLuke slammedmy

bladeawaywithhisshield.“My,Percy,”Lukechided.“You’reoutofpractice.”Hecameatmeagainwitha swipe to thehead. Iparried, returnedwitha

thrust.Hesidesteppedeasily.Thecutonmyribsstung.Myheartwasracing.WhenLukelungedagain,I

jumpedbackward into the swimmingpool and felt a surge of strength. I spununderwater,creatingafunnelcloud,andblastedoutofthedeepend,straightatLuke’sface.

The force of the water knocked him down, spluttering and blinded. ButbeforeIcouldstrike,herolledasideandwasonhisfeetagain.

I attacked and sliced off the edge of his shield, but that didn’t even fazehim.Hedroppedtoacrouchandjabbedatmylegs.Suddenlymythighwasonfire,withapainsointenseIcollapsed.Myjeanswererippedabovetheknee.Iwashurt.Ididn’tknowhowbadly.LukehackeddownwardandIrolledbehindadeckchair.Itriedtostand,butmylegwouldn’ttaketheweight.

“Perrrrrcy!”Groverbleated.I rolledagainasLuke’s swordslashed thedeckchair inhalf,metalpipes

andall.Iclawedtowardtheswimmingpool,tryinghardnottoblackout.I’dnever

makeit.Lukeknewit,too.Headvancedslowly,smiling.Theedgeofhisswordwastingedwithred.

“One thing Iwantyou towatchbeforeyoudie,Percy.”He lookedat thebear-manOreius,whowasstillholdingAnnabethandGroverbythenecks.“Youcaneatyourdinnernow,Oreius.Bonappetit.”

“He-he!He-he!”Thebear-manliftedmyfriendsandbaredhisteeth.That’swhenallHadesbrokeloose.Whish!Ared-featheredarrowsproutedfromOreius’smouth.Withasurprisedlook

onhishairyface,hecrumpledtothedeck.“Brother!” Agrius wailed. He let the pegasus’s reins go slack just long

enoughfortheblacksteedtokickhimintheheadandflyawayfreeoverMiamiBay.

Fora split second,Luke’sguardswere toostunned todoanythingexceptwatchthebeartwins’bodiesdissolveintosmoke.

Then therewasawildchorusofwarcriesandhooves thunderingagainstmetal.Adozencentaurschargedoutofthemainstairwell.

“Ponies!”Tysoncriedwithdelight.

Mymindhad troubleprocessingeverythingIsaw.Chironwasamong thecrowd,buthisrelativeswerealmostnothinglikehim.Therewerecentaurswithblack Arabian stallion bodies, others with gold palomino coats, others withorange-and-white spots like paint horses. Somewore brightly colored T-shirtswithDay-GlolettersthatsaidPARTYPONIES:SOUTHFLORIDACHAPTER.Somewerearmedwithbows,somewithbaseballbats,somewithpaintballguns.One had his face painted like a Comanche warrior and was waving a largeorangeStyrofoamhandmakingabigNumberI.Anotherwasbare-chestedandpainted entirely green. A third had googly-eye glasses with the eyeballsbouncingaroundonSlinkycoils,andoneofthosebaseballcapswithsoda-can-and-strawattachmentsoneitherside.

TheyexplodedontothedeckwithsuchferocityandcolorthatforamomentevenLukewas stunned. I couldn’t tellwhether they had come to celebrate orattack.

Apparently both. As Luke was raising his sword to rally his troops, acentaur shot a custom-made arrowwith a leather boxing glove on the end. ItsmackedLukeinthefaceandsenthimcrashingintotheswimmingpool.

His warriors scattered. I couldn’t blame them. Facing the hooves of arearingstallionisscaryenough,butwhenit’sacentaur,armedwithabowandwhoopingitupinasoda-drinkinghat,eventhebravestwarriorwouldretreat.

“Comegetsome!”yelledoneofthepartyponies.They let loose with their paintball guns. A wave of blue and yellow

explodedagainstLuke’swarriors,blindingthemandsplatteringthemfromheadtotoe.Theytriedtorun,onlytoslipandfall.

ChirongallopedtowardAnnabethandGrover,neatlypluckedthemoffthedeck,anddepositedthemonhisback.

Itriedtogetup,butmywoundedlegstillfeltlikeitwasonfire.Lukewascrawlingoutofthepool.“Attack,youfools.’”heorderedhistroops.Somewheredownbelowdeck,

alargealarmbellthrummed.I knew any second we would be swamped by Luke’s reinforcements.

Already, his warriors were getting over their surprise, coming at the centaurswithswordsandspearsdrawn.

Tysonslappedhalfadozenofthemaside,knockingthemovertheguardrailintoMiamiBay.Butmorewarriorswerecomingupthestairs.

“Withdraw,brethren!”Chironsaid.“Youwon’t get awaywith this, horseman!”Luke shouted.He raisedhis

sword, but got smacked in the facewith another boxing glove arrow, and satdownhardinadeckchair.

Apalominocentaurhoistedmeontohisback.“Dude,getyourbigfriend!”“Tyson!”Iyelled.“Comeon!”Tysondroppedthetwowarriorshewasabouttotieintoaknotandjogged

afterus.Hejumpedonthecentaur’sback.“Dude!” thecentaurgroaned, almostbucklingunderTyson’sweight. “Do

thewords‘low-carbdiet’meananythingtoyou?”Luke’swarriorswereorganizingthemselvesintoaphalanx.Butbythetime

theywere ready toadvance, thecentaurshadgalloped to theedgeof thedeckand fearlessly jumped the guardrail, as if it were a steeplechase and not tenstories above the ground. I was sure we were going to die. We plummetedtowardthedocks,butthecentaurshittheasphaltwithhardlyajoltandgallopedoff,whoopingandyellingtauntsatthePrincessAndromedaasweracedintothestreetsofdowntownMiami.

IhavenoideawhattheMiamiansthoughtaswegallopedby.Streetsandbuildingsbegantoblurasthecentaurspickedupspeed.Itfelt

asifspacewerecompacting-asifeachcentaursteptookusmilesandmiles.Innotime,we’dleftthecitybehind.Weracedthroughmarshyfieldsofhighgrassandpondsandstuntedtrees.

Finally, we found ourselves in a trailer park at the edge of a lake. Thetrailerswereallhorsetrailers,trickedoutwithtelevisionsandmini-refrigeratorsandmosquitonetting.Wewereinacentaurcamp.

“Dude!”saidapartyponyasheunloadedhisgear.“Didyouseethatbearguy?Hewasalllike:‘Whoa,Ihaveanarrowinmymouth!’”

The centaur with the googly-eye glasses laughed. “That was awesome!Headslam!”

Thetwocentaurschargedateachotherfull-forceandknockedheads,thenwentstaggeringoffindifferentdirectionswithcrazygrinsontheirfaces.

Chironsighed.HesetAnnabethandGroverdownonapicnicblanketnexttome.“Ireallywishmycousinswouldn’tslamtheirheadstogether.Theydon’thavethebraincellstospare.”

“Chiron,”Isaid,stillstunnedbythefactthathewashere.“Yousavedus.”He gave me a dry smile. “Well now, I couldn’t very well let you die,

especiallysinceyou’veclearedmyname.”“Buthowdidyouknowwherewewere?”Annabethasked.“Advancedplanning,mydear.IfiguredyouwouldwashupnearMiamiif

youmadeitoutoftheSeaofMonstersalive.AlmosteverythingstrangewashesupnearMiami.”

“Gee,thanks,”Grovermumbled.“No,no,”Chironsaid.“Ididn’tmean…Oh,nevermind.Iamgladtosee

you, my young satyr. The point is, I was able to eavesdrop on Percy’s Iris-messageandtracethesignal.IrisandIhavebeenfriendsforcenturies.Iaskedher to alertme to any important communications in this area. It then took noefforttoconvincemycousinstoridetoyouraid.Asyousee,centaurscantravelquite fast when we wish to. Distance for us is not the same as distance forhumans.”

Ilookedoveratthecampfire,wherethreepartyponieswereteachingTysontooperateapaintballgun.Ihopedtheyknewwhattheyweregettinginto.

“So what now?” I asked Chiron. “We just let Luke sail away? He’s gotKronosaboardthatship.Orpartsofhim,anyway.”

Chironknelt,carefullyfoldinghisfrontlegsunderneathhim.Heopenedthemedicinepouchonhisbeltandstarted to treatmywounds.“I’mafraid,Percy,thattodayhasbeensomethingofadraw.Wedidn’thavethestrengthofnumberstotakethatship.Lukewasnotorganizedenoughtopursueus.Nobodywon.”

“Butwegot theFleece!”Annabeth said. “Clarisse is onherwayback tocampwithitrightnow.”

Chironnodded,thoughhestilllookeduneasy.“Youarealltrueheroes.Andas soon as we get Percy fixed up, you must return to Half-Blood Hill. Thecentaursshallcarryyou.”

“You’recoming,too?”Iasked.“Ohyes,Percy.I’llberelievedtogethome.Mybrethrenheresimplydonot

appreciateDeanMartin’smusic.Besides,ImusthavesomewordswithMr.D.There’stherestofthesummertoplan.Somuchtrainingtodo.AndIwanttosee…I’mcuriousabouttheFleece.”

Ididn’tknowexactlywhathemeant,but itmademeworriedaboutwhatLukehadsaid:IwasgoingtoletyoutaketheFleece…onceIwasdonewithit.

Hadhe justbeen lying? I’d learnedwithKronos therewasusuallyaplanwithinaplan.Thetitanlordwasn’tcalledtheCrookedOnefornothing.Hehadwaysofgettingpeopletodowhathewantedwithoutthemeverrealizinghistrueintentions.

Over by the campfire, Tyson let loose with his paintball gun. A blueprojectilesplatteredagainstoneof thecentaurs,hurlinghimbackward into thelake.Thecentaurcameupgrinning,coveredinswampmuckandbluepaint,andgaveTysontwothumbsup.

“Annabeth,” Chiron said, “perhaps you and Grover would go superviseTysonandmycousinsbeforethey,ah,teacheachothertoomanybadhabits?”

Annabethmethiseyes.Somekindofunderstandingpassedbetweenthem.“Sure,Chiron,”Annabethsaid.“Comeon,goatboy.”“ButIdon’tlikepaintball.”

“Yes,youdo.”ShehoistedGrovertohishoovesandledhimofftowardthecampfire.

Chiron finishedbandagingmy leg.“Percy, Ihada talkwithAnnabethonthewayhere.Atalkabouttheprophecy.”

Uh-oh,Ithought.“Itwasn’therfault,”Isaid.“Imadehertellme.”Hiseyesflickeredwithirritation.Iwassurehewasgoingtochewmeout,

but thenhis look turned toweariness.“I suppose Icouldnotexpect tokeep itsecretforever.”

“SoamItheoneintheprophecy?”Chiron tucked his bandages back into his pouch. “I wish I knew, Percy.

You’renotyetsixteen.Fornowwemustsimply trainyouasbestwecan,andleavethefuturetotheFates.”

The Fates. I hadn’t thought about those old ladies in a long time, but assoonasChironmentionedthem,somethingclicked.

“That’swhatitmeant,”Isaid.Chironfrowned.“That’swhatwhatmeant?”“Lastsummer.TheomenfromtheFates,whenIsawthemsnipsomebody’s

lifestring.IthoughtitmeantIwasgoingtodierightaway,butit’sworsethanthat. It’s got something to dowith your prophecy.The death they foretold-it’sgoingtohappenwhenI’msixteen.”

Chiron’stailwhiskednervouslyinthegrass.“Myboy,youcan’tbesureofthat.Wedon’tevenknowiftheprophecyisaboutyou.”

“Butthereisn’tanyotherhalf-bloodchildoftheBigThree!”“Thatweknowof.”“AndKronosisrising.He’sgoingtodestroyMountOlympus!”“Hewilltry,”Chironagreed.“AndWesternCivilizationalongwithit,ifwe

don’tstophim.Butwewillstophim.Youwillnotbealoneinthatfight.”I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but I remembered what

Annabeth had told me. It would come down to one hero. One decision thatwould saveordestroy theWest.And I felt sure theFateshadbeengivingmesomekindofwarningaboutthat.Somethingterriblewasgoingtohappen,eithertomeortosomebodyIwascloseto.

“I’m just a kid,Chiron,” I saidmiserably. “What good is one lousy heroagainstsomethinglikeKronos?”

Chironmanagedasmile.‘”Whatgoodisonelousyhero’?JoshuaLawrenceChamberlainsaidsomethinglikethattomeonce,justbeforehesingle-handedlychangedthecourseofyourCivilWar.”

He pulled an arrow from his quiver and turned the razor-sharp tip so it

glinted in the firelight. “Celestial bronze, Percy. An immortal weapon. Whatwouldhappenifyoushotthisatahuman?”

“Nothing,”Isaid.“Itwouldpassrightthrough.”“That’s right,” he said. “Humans don’t exist on the same level as the

immortals.Theycan’tevenbehurtbyourweapons.Butyou,Percy-youarepartgod,parthuman.Youliveinbothworlds.Youcanbeharmedbyboth,andyoucan affect both. That’swhatmakes heroes so special. You carry the hopes ofhumanityintotherealmoftheeternal.Monstersneverdie.Theyarerebornfromthechaosandbarbarismthatisalwaysbubblingunderneathcivilization,theverystuffthatmakesKronosstronger.Theymustbedefeatedagainandagain,keptatbay. Heroes embody that struggle. You fight the battles humanity must win,everygeneration,inordertostayhuman.Doyouunderstand?”

“I…Idon’tknow.”“You must try, Percy. Because whether or not you are the child of the

prophecy,Kronosthinksyoumightbe.Andaftertoday,hewillfinallydespairofturning you to his side. That is the only reason he hasn’t killed you yet, youknow.Assoonashe’ssurehecan’tuseyou,hewilldestroyyou.”

“Youtalklikeyouknowhim.”Chironpursedhislips.“Idoknowhim.”Istaredathim.Isometimesforgot justhowoldChironwas.“Is thatwhy

Mr.Dblamedyouwhenthetreewaspoisoned?Whyyousaidsomepeopledon’ttrustyou?”

“Indeed.”“But,Chiron…Imean,comeon!Whywouldtheythinkyou’deverbetray

thecampforKronos?”Chiron’s eyes were deep brown, full of thousands of years of sadness.

“Percy, rememberyour training.Rememberyour studyofmythology.What ismyconnectiontothetitanlord?”

Itriedtothink,butI’dalwaysgottenmymythologymixedup.Evennow,whenitwassoreal,soimportant tomyownlife,Ihadtroublekeepingall thenames and facts straight. I shookmy head. “You, uh, oweKronos a favor orsomething?Hesparedyourlife?”

“Percy,”Chiron said, his voice impossibly soft. “The titanKronos ismyfather.”

NINETEEN

THECHARIOTRACE

ENDSWITHABANG

WearrivedinLongIslandjustafterClarisse,thankstothecentaurs’travelpowers.IrodeonChiron’sback,butwedidn’ttalkmuch,especiallynotaboutKronos.IknewithadbeendifficultforChirontotellme.Ididn’twanttopushhimwithmorequestions. Imean,I’vemetplentyofembarrassingparents,butKronos,theeviltitanlordwhowantedtodestroyWesternCivilization?Notthekindofdadyouinvitedtoschoolforcareerday.

Whenwegottocamp,thecentaurswereanxioustomeetDionysus.They’dheardhe threwsomereallywildparties,but theyweredisappointed.ThewinegodwasinnomoodtocelebrateasthewholecampgatheredatthetopofHalf-BloodHill.

Thecamphadbeenthroughahardtwoweeks.Theartsandcraftscabinhadburned to the ground from an attack by aDracoAionius (which as near as Icould figure was Latin for “really-big-lizard-with-breath-that-blows-stuff-up”).TheBigHouse’sroomswereoverflowingwithwounded.ThekidsintheApollocabin,whowere the best healers, hadbeenworkingovertimeperforming firstaid.EverybodylookedwearyandbatteredaswecrowdedaroundThalia’stree.

ThemomentClarissedrapedtheGoldenFleeceoverthelowestbough,themoonlightseemedtobrighten,turningfromgraytoliquidsilver.Acoolbreezerustledinthebranchesandrippledthroughthegrass,allthewayintothevalley.Everythingcameintosharperfocus-theglowofthefirefliesdowninthewoods,thesmellofthestrawberryfields,thesoundofthewavesonthebeach.

Gradually,theneedlesonthepinetreestartedturningfrombrowntogreen.Everybodycheered.Itwashappeningslowly,buttherecouldbenodoubt-

the Fleece’s magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power andexpellingthepoison.

Chironorderedatwenty-four/sevenguarddutyonthehilltop,atleastuntilhecouldfindanappropriatemonstertoprotecttheFleece.Hesaidhe’dplaceanadinOlympusWeeklyrightaway.

Inthemeantime,Clarissewascarriedonhercabinmates’shouldersdownto the amphitheater,where shewas honoredwith a laurelwreath and a lot ofcelebratingaroundthecampfire.

NobodygaveAnnabethormeasecondlook.Itwasasifwe’dneverleft.Inaway,Iguessthatwasthebestthank-youanyonecouldgiveus,becauseiftheyadmittedwe’dsnuckoutofcamptodothequest,they’dhavetoexpelus.Andreally,Ididn’twantanymoreattention.Itfeltgoodtobejustoneofthecampers

foronce.Later that night, as we were roasting s’mores and listening to the Stoll

brotherstellusaghoststoryaboutanevilkingwhowaseatenalivebydemonicbreakfast pastries, Clarisse shovedme from behind and whispered inmy ear,“Justbecauseyouwerecoolonetime,Jackson,don’tthinkyou’reoffthehookwithAres.I’mstillwaitingfortherightopportunitytopulverizeyou.”

Igaveheragrudgingsmile.“What?”shedemanded.“Nothing,”Isaid.“Justgoodtobehome.”The nextmorning, after the party ponies headed back to Florida, Chiron

madeasurpriseannouncement:thechariotraceswouldgoaheadasscheduled.We’dallfiguredtheywerehistorynowthatTantaluswasgone,butcompletingthemdidfeelliketherightthingtodo,especiallynowthatChironwasbackandthecampwassafe.

Tysonwasn’ttookeenontheideaofgettingbackinachariotafterourfirstexperience,buthewashappytoletmeteamupwithAnnabeth.Iwoulddrive,Annabethwoulddefend,andTysonwouldactasourpitcrew.WhileIworkedwith thehorses,Tyson fixedupAthena’s chariot and added awholebunchofspecialmodifications.

Wespentthenexttwodaystraininglikecrazy.AnnabethandIagreedthatif we won, the prize of no chores for the rest of the month would be splitbetweenourtwocabins.SinceAthenahadmorecampers,theywouldgetmostofthetimeoff,whichwasfinebyme.Ididn’tcareabouttheprize.Ijustwantedtowin.

Thenightbefore therace,Istayedlateat thestables. Iwas talkingtoourhorses, giving themone final brushing,when somebody right behindme said,“Fineanimals,horses.WishI’dthoughtofthem.”

Amiddle-agedguyinapostalcarrieroutfitwasleaningagainst thestabledoor.Hewasslim,withcurlyblackhairunderhiswhitepithhelmet,andhehadamailbagslungoverhisshoulder.

“Hermes?”Istammered.“Hello,Percy.Didn’trecognizemewithoutmyjoggingclothes?”“Uh…”Iwasn’tsurewhetherIwassupposedtokneelorbuystampsfrom

him orwhat. Then it occurred tomewhy hemust be here. “Oh, listen, LordHermes,aboutLuke…”

Thegodarchedhiseyebrows.“Uh,wesawhim,allright,”Isaid,“but-““Youweren’tabletotalksenseintohim?”“Well,wekindoftriedtokilleachotherinadueltothedeath.”

“Isee.Youtriedthediplomaticapproach.”“I’mreallysorry.Imean,yougaveusthoseawesomegiftsandeverything.

AndIknowyouwantedLuketocomeback.But…he’sturnedbad.Reallybad.Hesaidhefeelslikeyouabandonedhim.”

IwaitedforHermestogetangry.Ifiguredhe’dturnmeintoahamsterorsomething,andIdidnotwanttospendanymoretimeasarodent.

Instead, he just sighed. “Do you ever feel your father abandoned you,Percy?”

Oh,man.I wanted to say, “Only a few hundred times a day.” I hadn’t spoken to

Poseidonsincelastsummer.I’dneverbeentohisunderwaterpalace.Andthentherewas thewhole thingwithTyson-nowarning, no explanation. Just boom,you have a brother. You’d think that deserved a little heads-up phone call orsomething.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I realized I did wantrecognitionforthequestI’dcompleted,butnotfromtheothercampers.Iwantedmydadtosaysomething.Tonoticeme.

Hermes readjusted the mailbag on his shoulder. “Percy, the hardest partaboutbeingagodisthatyoumustoftenactindirectly,especiallywhenitcomesto your own children. If we were to intervene every time our children had aproblem…well, thatwouldonly createmoreproblems andmore resentment.But Ibelieve ifyougive it some thought,youwill see thatPoseidonhasbeenpaying attention to you. He has answered your prayers. I can only hope thatsome day, Luke may realize the same about me. Whether you feel like yousucceededornot,youremindedLukewhohewas.Youspoketohim.”

“Itriedtokillhim.”Hermes shrugged. “Families are messy. Immortal families are eternally

messy.Sometimesthebestwecandoistoremindeachotherthatwe’rerelated,forbetterorworse…andtrytokeepthemaimingandkillingtoaminimum.”

Itdidn’tsoundlikemuchofarecipefortheperfectfamily.Thenagain,asIthoughtaboutmyquest,IrealizedmaybeHermeswasright.Poseidonhadsentthe hippocampi to help us.He’d givenme powers over the sea that I’d neverknownaboutbefore.AndtherewasTyson.HadPoseidonbroughtustogetheronpurpose?HowmanytimeshadTysonsavedmylifethissummer?

Inthedistance,theconchhornsounded,signalingcurfew.“You should get to bed,” Hermes said. “I’ve helped you get into quite

enoughtroublethissummeralready.Ireallyonlycametomakethisdelivery.”“Adelivery?”“I am themessengerof thegods,Percy.”He tookan electronic signature

padfromhismailbagandhandedittome.“Signthere,please.”Ipickedup thestylusbefore realizing itwasentwinedwithapairof tiny

greensnakes.“Ah!”Idroppedthepad.Ouch,saidGeorge.Really,Percy,Marthascolded.Wouldyouwanttobedroppedonthefloor

ofahorsestable?“Oh,uh,sorry.”Ididn’tmuchliketouchingsnakes,butIpickedupthepad

andthestylusagain.MarthaandGeorgewriggledundermyfingers,formingakindofpencilgripliketheonesmyspecialedteachermademeuseinsecondgrade.

Didyoubringmearat?Georgeasked.“No…”Isaid.“Uh,wedidn’tfindany.”Whataboutaguineapig?George!Marthachided.Don’tteasetheboy.IsignedmynameandgavethepadbacktoHermes.Inexchange,hehandedmeasea-blueenvelope.Myfingerstrembled.EvenbeforeIopenedit,Icouldtell itwasfrommy

father.Icouldsensehispowerinthecoolbluepaper,asiftheenvelopeitselfhadbeenfoldedoutofanoceanwave.

“Goodlucktomorrow,”Hermessaid.“Fineteamofhorsesyouhavethere,thoughyou’llexcusemeifIrootfortheHermescabin.”

Anddon’tbetoodiscouragedwhenyoureadit,dear,Marthatoldme.Hedoeshaveyourinterestsatheart.

“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked.Don’tmind her,George said.And next time, remember, snakeswork for

tips.“Enough,youtwo,”Hermessaid.“Good-bye,Percy.Fornow.”Smallwhitewingssproutedfromhispithhelmet.Hebegantoglow,andI

knewenoughaboutthegodstoavertmyeyesbeforeherevealedhistruedivineform.Withabrilliantwhiteflashhewasgone,andIwasalonewiththehorses.

I stared at theblue envelope inmyhands. Itwas addressed in strongbuteleganthandwriting that I’dseenoncebefore,onapackagePoseidonhadsentmelastsummer.

PercyJacksonc/oCampHalf-BloodFarmRoad3.141LongIsland,NewYork11954Anactual letterfrommyfather.MaybehewouldtellmeI’ddoneagood

jobgettingtheFleece.He’dexplainaboutTyson,orapologizefornottalkingto

mesooner.ThereweresomanythingsthatIwantedthatlettertosay.Iopenedtheenvelopeandunfoldedthepaper.Twosimplewordswereprintedinthemiddleofthepage:BraceYourselfThenextmorning, everybodywasbuzzing about the chariot race, though

they kept glancing nervously toward the sky like they expected to seeStymphalianbirdsgathering.Nonedid.Itwasabeautifulsummerdaywithblueskyandplentyofsunshine.Thecamphadstartedtolookthewayitshouldlook:the meadows were green and lush; the white columns gleamed on the Greekbuildings;dryadsplayedhappilyinthewoods.

And I was miserable. I’d been lying awake all night, thinking aboutPoseidon’swarning.

Braceyourself.Imean,hegoestothetroubleofwritingaletter,andhewritestwowords?Marthathesnakehadtoldmenottofeeldisappointed.MaybePoseidonhad

areasonforbeingsovague.Maybehedidn’tknowexactlywhathewaswarningme about, but he sensed something big was about to happen-something thatcouldcompletelyknockmeoffmyfeetunlessIwasprepared.Itwashard,butItriedtoturnmythoughtstotherace.

AsAnnabethandIdroveontothetrack,Icouldn’thelpadmiringtheworkTyson had done on the Athena chariot. The carriage gleamed with bronzereinforcements. The wheels were realigned with magical suspension so weglided alongwith hardly a bump. The rigging for the horseswas so perfectlybalancedthattheteamturnedattheslightesttugofthereins.

Tysonhadalsomadeustwojavelins,eachwiththreebuttonsontheshaft.The first button primed the javelin to explode on impact, releasing razorwirethatwouldtangleandshredanopponent’swheels.Thesecondbuttonproducedablunt(butstillverypainful)bronzespearheaddesignedtoknockadriveroutofhiscarriage.Thethirdbuttonbroughtupagrapplinghookthatcouldbeusedtolockontoanenemy’schariotorpushitaway.

Ifiguredwewereinprettygoodshapefortherace,butTysonstillwarnedmetobecareful.Theotherchariotteamshadplentyoftricksuptheirtogas.

“Here,”hesaid,justbeforetheracebegan.Hehandedmeawristwatch.Therewasn’tanythingspecialabout it-justa

white-and-silver clock face, a black leather strap-but as soon as I saw it IrealizedthatthisiswhatI’dseenhimtinkeringonallsummer.

Ididn’tusually like towearwatches.Whocaredwhat time itwas?But Icouldn’tsaynotoTyson.

“Thanks, man.” I put it on and found it was surprisingly light and

comfortable.IcouldhardlytellIwaswearingit.“Didn’tfinishintimeforthetrip,”Tysonmumbled.“Sorry,sorry.”“Hey,man.Nobigdeal.”“Ifyouneedprotectioninrace,”headvised,“hitthebutton.”“Ah,okay.”Ididn’tseehowkeepingtimewasgoingtohelpawhole lot,

butIwastouchedthatTysonwasconcerned.IpromisedhimI’drememberthewatch.“And,hey,um,Tyson…”

Helookedatme.“Iwantedtosay,well…”Itriedtofigureouthowtoapologizeforgetting

embarrassedabouthimbeforethequest,fortellingeveryonehewasn’tmyrealbrother.Itwasn’teasytofindthewords.

“I knowwhat youwill tellme,”Tyson said, looking ashamed. “Poseidondidcareformeafterall.”

“Uh,well-““Hesentyoutohelpme.JustwhatIaskedfor.”Iblinked.“YouaskedPoseidonfor…me?”“Forafriend,”Tysonsaid,twistinghisshirtinhishands.“YoungCyclopes

grow up alone on the streets, learn to make things out of scraps. Learn tosurvive.”

“Butthat’ssocruel!”Heshookhisheadearnestly.“Makesusappreciateblessings,notbegreedy

andmean and fat like Polyphemus. But I got scared.Monsters chasedme somuch,clawedmesometimes-“

“Thescarsonyourback?”A tearwelled in his eye. “Sphinx on Seventy-second Street. Big bully. I

prayed toDaddy forhelp.Soon thepeopleatMeriwether foundme.Metyou.Biggestblessingever.SorryIsaidPoseidonwasmean.Hesentmeabrother.”

IstaredatthewatchthatTysonhadmademe.“Percy!”Annabethcalled.“Comeon!”Chironwasatthestartingline,readytoblowtheconch.“Tyson…”Isaid.“Go,”Tysonsaid.“Youwillwin!”“I-yeah,okay,bigguy.We’llwinthisoneforyou.”Iclimbedonboardthe

chariotandgotintopositionjustasChironblewthestartingsignal.The horses knewwhat to do.We shot down the track so fast Iwould’ve

fallenoutifmyarmshadn’tbeenwrappedintheleatherreins.Annabethheldontight to the rail. The wheels glided beautifully. We took the first turn a fullchariot-lengthaheadofClarisse,whowasbusytryingtofightoffajavelinattackfromtheStollbrothersintheHermeschariot.

“We’vegot‘em!”Iyelled,butIspoketoosoon.“Incoming!”Annabethyelled.Shethrewherfirstjaveliningrapplinghook

mode, knocking away a lead-weightednet thatwould have entangledus both.Apollo’s chariot had come up on our flank. Before Annabeth could rearmherself, the Apollo warrior threw a javelin into our right wheel. The javelinshattered,butnotbeforesnappingsomeofourspokes.Ourchariotlurchedandwobbled.Iwassurethewheelwouldcollapsealtogether,butwesomehowkeptgoing.

Iurgedthehorsestokeepupthespeed.WewerenowneckandneckwithApollo.Hephaestuswascomingupclosebehind.AresandHermeswerefallingbehind,ridingsidebysideasClarissewentsword-on-javelinwithConnorStoll.

Ifwetookonemorehittoourwheel,Iknewwewouldcapsize.“You’remine!”thedriverfromApolloyelled.Hewasafirst-yearcamper.I

didn’trememberhisname,buthesurewasconfident.“Yeah,right!”Annabethyelledback.She pickedup her second javelin-a real risk consideringwe still had one

fulllaptogo-andthrewitattheApollodriver.Heraimwasperfect.Thejavelingrewaheavyspearpointjustasitcaught

the driver in the chest, knocking him against his teammate and sending thembothtopplingoutoftheirchariotinabackwardsomersault.Thehorsesfeltthereinsgoslackandwentcrazy,ridingstraightforthecrowd.Campersscrambledforcoverasthehorsesleapedthecornerofthebleachersandthegoldenchariotflippedover.Thehorsesgallopedbacktowardtheirstable,draggingtheupside-downchariotbehindthem.

I held our own chariot together through the second turn, despite thegroaningoftherightwheel.Wepassedthestartinglineandthunderedintoourfinallap.

The axle creaked andmoaned. Thewobblingwheel wasmaking us losespeed,eventhoughthehorseswererespondingtomyeverycommand,runninglikeawell-oiledmachine.

TheHephaestusteamwasstillgaining.Beckendorfgrinnedashepressedabuttononhiscommandconsole.Steel

cablesshotoutofthefrontofhismechanicalhorses,wrappingaroundourbackrail. Our chariot shuddered as Beckendorf’s winch system started working-pullingusbackwardwhileBeckendorfpulledhimselfforward.

Annabethcursedanddrewherknife.Shehackedatthecablesbuttheyweretoothick.

“Can’tcutthem.’”sheyelled.TheHephaestus chariotwasnowdangerously close, their horses about to

trampleusunderfoot.“Switchwithme!”ItoldAnnabeth.“Takethereins!”“But-““Trustme!”Shepulledherselftothefrontandgrabbedthereins.Iturned,tryinghardto

keepmyfooting,anduncappedRiptide.Islasheddownandthecablessnappedlikekitestring.Welurchedforward,

butBeckendorf’sdriverjustswunghischariottoourleftandpulledupnexttous.Beckendorfdrewhissword.HeslashedatAnnabeth,andIparriedthebladeaway.

We were coming up on the last turn. We’d never make it. I needed todisable theHephaestus chariot and get it out of theway, but I had to protectAnnabeth,too.JustbecauseBeckendorfwasaniceguydidn’tmeanhewouldn’tsendusbothtotheinfirmaryifweletourguarddown.

Wewereneckandnecknow,Clarissecomingupfrombehind,makingupforlosttime.

“Seeya,Percy!”Beckendorfyelled.“Here’salittlepartinggift!”Hethrewaleatherpouchintoourchariot.Itstucktothefloorimmediately

andbeganbillowinggreensmoke.“Greekfire!”Annabethyelled.Icursed.I’dheardstoriesaboutwhatGreekfirecoulddo.Ifiguredwehad

maybetensecondsbeforeitexploded.“Getridofit!”Annabethshouted,butIcouldn’t.Hephaestus’schariotwas

stillalongside,waitinguntilthelastsecondtomakesuretheirlittlepresentblewup.Beckendorfwas keepingmebusywith his sword. If I letmyguard downlong enough todealwith theGreek fire,Annabethwouldget sliced andwe’dcrashanyway.Itriedtokicktheleatherpouchawaywithmyfoot,butIcouldn’t.Itwasstuckfast.

ThenIrememberedthewatch.I didn’t know how it could help, but I managed to punch the stopwatch

button. Instantly, the watch changed. It expanded, the metal rim spiralingoutward like an old-fashioned camera shutter, a leather strapwrapping aroundmyforearmuntilIwasholdingaroundwarshieldfourfeetwide,theinsidesoftleather,theoutsidepolishedbronzeengravedwithdesignsIdidn’thavetimetoexamine.

AllIknew:Tysonhadcomethrough.Iraisedtheshield,andBeckendorf’sswordclangedagainstit.Hisbladeshattered.

“What?”heshouted.“How-“Hedidn’thave timetosaymorebecauseIknockedhimin thechestwith

mynewshieldandsenthimflyingoutofhischariot,tumblinginthedirt.I was about use Riptide to slash at the driver when Annabeth yelled,

“Percy!”TheGreekfirewasshootingsparks.Ishovedthetipofmyswordunderthe

leatherpouchandflippedituplikeaspatula.ThefirebombdislodgedandflewintotheHephaestuschariotatthedriver’sfeet.Heyelped.

In a split second the driver made the right choice: he dove out of thechariot,whichcareenedawayandexploded ingreen flames.Themetalhorsesseemed to short-circuit. They turned and dragged the burning wreckage backtowardClarisseandtheStollbrothers,whohadtoswervetoavoidit.

Annabeth pulled the reins for the last turn. I held on, sure we wouldcapsize,butsomehowshebroughtusthroughandspurredthehorsesacrossthefinishline.Thecrowdroared.

Oncethechariotstopped,ourfriendsmobbedus.Theystartedchantingournames,butAnnabethyelledoverthenoise:“Holdup!Listen!Itwasn’tjustus!”

Thecrowddidn’twanttobequiet,butAnnabethmadeherselfheard:“Wecouldn’thavedoneitwithoutsomebodyelse!Wecouldn’thavewonthisraceorgotten the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to Tyson,Percy’s…”

“Brother!” I said, loud enough for everybody to hear. “Tyson, my babybrother.”

Tysonblushed.Thecrowdcheered.Annabethplantedakissonmycheek.The roaring got a lot louder after that. The entireAthena cabin liftedme andAnnabeth and Tyson onto their shoulders and carried us toward the winner’splatform,whereChironwaswaitingtobestowthelaurelwreaths.

TWENTY

THEFLEECEWORKS

ITSMAGICTOOWELL

That afternoon was one of the happiest I’d ever spent at camp, whichmaybegoestoshow,youneverknowwhenyourworldisabouttoberockedtopieces.

Groverannouncedthathe’dbeabletospendtherestofthesummerwithusbefore resuminghisquest forPan.Hisbossesat theCouncilofClovenEldersweresoimpressedthathehadn’tgottenhimselfkilledandhadclearedthewayforfuturesearchers,thattheygrantedhimatwo-monthfurloughandanewsetof reed pipes. The only bad news: Grover insisted on playing those pipes allafternoon long, and his musical skills hadn’t improved much. He played“YMCA,” and the strawberry plants started going crazy,wrapping around ourfeetliketheyweretryingtostrangleus.IguessIcouldn’tblamethem.

Grovertoldmehecoulddissolvetheempathylinkbetweenus,nowthatwewereface to face,but I toldhimI’d justassoonkeep it if thatwasokaywithhim.Heputdownhisreedpipesandstaredatme.“But,ifIgetintroubleagain,you’llbeindanger,Percy!Youcoulddie!”

“Ifyougetintroubleagain,Iwanttoknowaboutit.AndI’llcomehelpyouagain,G-man.Iwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.”

In the end he agreed not to break the link. He went back to playing“YMCA”forthestrawberryplants.Ididn’tneedanempathylinkwiththeplantstoknowhowtheyfeltaboutit.

Later on during archery class, Chiron pulledme aside and toldme he’dfixedmyproblemswithMeriwetherPrep.Theschoolnolongerblamedmefordestroyingtheirgymnasium.Thepolicewerenolongerlookingforme.

“Howdidyoumanagethat?”Iasked.Chiron’s eyes twinkled. “I merely suggested that the mortals had seen

somethingdifferentonthatday-afurnaceexplosionthatwasnotyourfault.”“Youjustsaidthatandtheyboughtit?”“ImanipulatedtheMist.Someday,whenyou’reready,I’llshowhowit’s

done.”“Youmean,IcangobacktoMeriwethernextyear?”Chiron raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no, they’ve still expelled you. Your

headmaster,Mr.Bonsai,saidyouhad-howdidheputit?-un-groovykarmathatdisrupted the school’s educational aura. But you’re not in any legal trouble,whichwasarelieftoyourmother.Oh,andspeakingofyourmother…”

Heunclippedhiscellphonefromhisquiverandhandedittome.“It’shigh

timeyoucalledher.”The worst part was the beginning-the “Percy-Jackson-what-were-you-

thinking-do-you-have-any-idea-how-worried-I-was-sneaking-off-to-camp-without-permission-going-on-dangerous-quests-and-scaring-me-half-to-death”part.

Butfinallyshepausedtocatchherbreath.“Oh,I’mjustgladyou’resafe!”That’sthegreatthingaboutmymom.She’snogoodatstayingangry.She

tries,butitjustisn’tinhernature.“I’msorry,Mom,”Itoldher.“Iwon’tscareyouagain.”“Don’tpromisemethat,Percy.Youknowverywellitwillonlygetworse.”

Shetriedtosoundcasualaboutit,butIcouldtellshewasprettyshakenup.Iwantedtosaysomethingtomakeherfeelbetter,butIknewshewasright.

Beingahalf-blood,Iwouldalwaysbedoingthingsthatscaredher.AndasIgotolder,thedangerswouldjustgetgreater.

“Icouldcomehomeforawhile,”Ioffered.“No,no.Stayatcamp.Train.Dowhatyouneedtodo.Butyouwillcome

homeforthenextschoolyear?”“Yeah,ofcourse.Uh,ifthere’sanyschoolthatwilltakeme.”“Oh,we’ll find something, dear,”mymother sighed. “Some placewhere

theydon’tknowusyet.”AsforTyson,thecamperstreatedhimlikeahero.Iwould’vebeenhappyto

havehimasmy cabinmate forever, but that evening, aswewere sittingon asandduneoverlooking theLongIslandSound,hemadeanannouncement thatcompletelytookmebysurprise.

“DreamcamefromDaddylastnight,”hesaid.“Hewantsmetovisit.”Iwondered if hewas kidding, but Tyson really didn’t know how to kid.

“Poseidonsentyouadreammessage?”Tyson nodded. “Wants me to go underwater for the rest of the summer.

LearntoworkatCyclopes’forges.Hecalleditaninter-anintern-““Aninternship?”“Yes.”Iletthatsinkin.I’lladmit,Ifeltalittlejealous.Poseidonhadnever

invitedmeunderwater.ButthenIthought,Tysonwasgoing?Justlikethat?“Whenwouldyouleave?”Iasked.“Now.”“Now.Like…nownow?”“Now.”I stared out at the waves in the Long Island Sound. The water was

glisteningredinthesunset.“I’mhappyforyou,bigguy,”Imanaged.“Seriously.”

“Hardtoleavemynewbrother,”hesaidwithatrembleinhisvoice.“ButIwanttomakethings.Weaponsforthecamp.Youwillneedthem.”

Unfortunately,Iknewhewasright.TheFleecehadn’tsolvedallthecamp’sproblems. Luke was still out there, gathering an army aboard the PrincessAndromeda. Kronos was still re-forming in his golden coffin. Eventually, wewouldhavetofightthem.

“You’ll make the best weapons ever,” I told Tyson. I held upmywatchproudly.“Ibetthey’lltellgoodtime,too.”

Tysonsniffled.“Brothershelpeachother.”“You’remybrother,”Isaid.“Nodoubtaboutit.”He pattedme on the back so hard he almost knockedme down the sand

dune. Then he wiped a tear from his cheek and stood to go. “Use the shieldwell.”

“Iwill,bigguy.”“Saveyourlifesomeday.”Thewayhesaidit,somatter-of-fact,IwonderedifthatCyclopseyeofhis

couldseeintothefuture.He headed down to the beach and whistled. Rainbow, the hippocampus,

burstoutofthewaves.IwatchedthetwoofthemrideofftogetherintotherealmofPoseidon.

Oncetheyweregone,I lookeddownatmynewwristwatch.Ipressedthebuttonand theshieldspiraledout to full size.Hammered into thebronzewerepicturesinAncientGreekstyle,scenesfromouradventuresthissummer.TherewasAnnabethslayingaLaistrygoniandodgeballplayer,mefightingthebronzebulls on Half-Blood Hill, Tyson riding Rainbow toward the PrincessAndromeda, theCSSBirminghamblasting its cannons atCharybdis. I ranmyhand across a picture of Tyson, battling the Hydra as he held aloft a box ofMonsterDonuts.

I couldn’t help feeling sad. I knew Tyson would have an awesome timeundertheocean.ButI’dmisseverythingabouthim-hisfascinationwithhorses,thewayhecould fixchariotsorcrumplemetalwithhisbarehands,or tiebadguysintoknots.I’devenmisshimsnoringlikeanearthquakeinthenextbunkallnight.

“Hey,Percy.”Iturned.Annabeth andGroverwere standing at the top of the sand dune. I guess

maybeIhadsomesandinmyeyes,becauseIwasblinkingalot.“Tyson…”Itoldthem.“Hehadto…”“Weknow,”Annabethsaidsoftly.“Chirontoldus.”

“Cyclopes forges.” Grover shuddered. “I hear the cafeteria food there isterrible!Like,noenchiladasatall.”

Annabethheldoutherhand.“Comeon,SeaweedBrain.Timefordinner.”Wewalkedback toward thediningpavilion together, just the threeofus,

likeoldtimes.Astormragedthatnight,butitpartedaroundCampHalf-Bloodasstorms

usuallydid.Lightningflashedagainstthehorizon,wavespoundedtheshore,butnot a drop fell in our valley.We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece,sealedinsideourmagicalborders.

Still,mydreamswererestless.IheardKronostauntingmefromthedepthsofTartarus:Polyphemus sits blindly inhis cave, younghero, believinghehaswonagreatvictory.Areyouany lessdeluded?The titan’scold laughter filledthedarkness.

Thenmydreamchanged.IwasfollowingTysonto thebottomof thesea,into thecourtofPoseidon.Itwasaradianthall filledwithblue light, thefloorcobbledwithpearls.Andthere,onathroneofcoral,satmyfather,dressedlikeasimplefishermaninkhakishortsandasun-bleachedT-shirt.Ilookedupintohistan weathered face, his deep green eyes, and he spoke two words: Braceyourself.

Iwokewithastart.Therewas abangingon thedoor.Grover flew insidewithoutwaiting for

permission.“Percy!”hestammered.“Annabeth…onthehill…she…”Thelookinhiseyestoldmesomethingwasterriblywrong.Annabethhad

beenonguarddutythatnight,protectingtheFleece.Ifsomethinghadhappened—

I ripped off the covers,my blood like icewater inmy veins. I threw onsomeclotheswhileGrover tried tomake a complete sentence, but hewas toostunned,toooutofbreath.“She’slyingthere…justlyingthere…”

I ran outside and raced across the central yard, Grover right behindme.Dawnwas justbreaking,but thewholecampseemed tobestirring.Wordwasspreading.Somethinghugehadhappened.Afewcamperswerealreadymakingtheirwaytowardthehill,satyrsandnymphsandheroesinaweirdmixofarmorandpajamas.

Iheardtheclopofhorsehooves,andChirongallopedupbehindus,lookinggrim.

“Isittrue?”heaskedGrover.Grovercouldonlynod,hisexpressiondazed.I tried toaskwhatwasgoingon,butChirongrabbedmeby thearmand

effortlesslyliftedmeontohisback.TogetherwethunderedupHalf-BloodHill,

whereasmallcrowdhadstartedtogather.IexpectedtoseetheFleecemissingfromthepinetree,butitwasstillthere,

glittering in the first light of dawn. The storm had broken and the sky wasbloodred.

“Curse the titan lord,”Chiron said. “He’s tricked us again, given himselfanotherchancetocontroltheprophecy.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked.“TheFleece,”hesaid.“TheFleecediditsworktoowell.”Wegallopedforward,everyonemovingoutofourway.Thereatthebaseof

thetree,agirlwaslyingunconscious.AnothergirlinGreekarmorwaskneelingnexttoher.

Blood roared in my ears. I couldn’t think straight. Annabeth had beenattacked?ButwhywastheFleecestillthere?

The tree itself lookedperfectly fine,wholeandhealthy, suffusedwith theessenceoftheGoldenFleece.

“Ithealedthetree,”Chironsaid,hisvoiceragged.“Andpoisonwasnottheonlythingitpurged.”

ThenIrealizedAnnabethwasn’ttheonelyingontheground.Shewastheoneinarmor,kneelingnexttotheunconsciousgirl.WhenAnnabethsawus,sherantoChiron.“It…she…justsuddenlythere…”

Hereyeswerestreamingwithtears,butIstilldidn’tunderstand.Iwastoofreakedouttomakesenseofitall.IleapedoffChiron’sbackandrantowardtheunconsciousgirl.Chironsaid:“Percy,wait!”

Ikneltbyherside.Shehadshortblackhairandfrecklesacrosshernose.Shewasbuiltlikealong-distancerunner,litheandstrong,andsheworeclothesthat were somewhere between punk and Goth-a black T-shirt, black tatteredjeans,andaleatherjacketwithbuttonsfromabunchofbandsI’dneverheardof.

Shewasn’tacamper.Ididn’trecognizeherfromanyofthecabins.AndyetIhadthestrangestfeelingI’dseenherbefore….

“It’strue,”Groversaid,pantingfromhisrunupthehill.“Ican’tbelieve…”Nobodyelsecameclosetothegirl.Iputmyhandonherforehead.Herskinwascold,butmyfingertipstingled

asiftheywereburning.“She needs nectar and ambrosia,” I said. She was clearly a half-blood,

whethershewasacamperornot.Icouldsensethatjustfromonetouch.Ididn’tunderstandwhyeveryonewasactingsoscared.

I tookherby the shouldersand liftedher into sittingposition, restingherheadonmyshoulder.

“Comeon!”Iyelled to theothers.“What’swrongwithyoupeople?Let’s

gethertotheBigHouse.”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.The girl’s blue eyes stared intomine, and I understoodwhat theGolden

Fleecequesthadbeenabout.Thepoisoningofthetree.Everything.Kronoshaddone it to bring another chess piece into play-another chance to control theprophecy.

EvenChiron,Annabeth, andGrover,who should’vebeen celebrating thismoment,were too shocked, thinking aboutwhat itmightmean for the future.AndIwasholdingsomeonewhowasdestinedtobemybestfriend,orpossiblymyworstenemy.

“IamThalia,”thegirlsaid.“DaughterofZeus.”

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