by Rick Riordan
‘Dream came from Daddy last night,’ he said. ‘He wants me to visit.’
I wondered if he was kidding, but Tyson really didn’t know how to kid. ‘Poseidon sent you a dream message?’
Tyson nodded. ‘Wants me to go underwater for the rest of the summer. Learn to work at Cyclopes’ forges. He called it an inter – an intern –’
‘An internship?’
‘Yes.’
I let that sink in. I’ll admit, I felt a little jealous. Poseidon had never invited me underwater. But then I thought, Tyson was going? Just like that?
‘When would you leave?’ I asked.
‘Now.’
‘Now. Like … now now?’
‘Now.’
I stared out at the waves in the Long Island Sound. The water was glistening red in the sunset.
‘I’m happy for you, big guy,’ I managed. ‘Seriously.’
‘Hard to leave my new brother,’ he said with a tremble in his voice. ‘But I want to make things. Weapons for the camp. You will need them.’
Unfortunately, I knew he was right. The Fleece hadn’t solved all the camp’s problems. Luke was still out there, gathering an army aboard the Princess Andromeda. Kronos was still re-forming in his golden coffin. Eventually, we would have to fight them.
‘You’ll make the best weapons ever,’ I told Tyson. I held up my watch proudly. ‘I bet they’ll tell good time, too.’
Tyson sniffled. ‘Brothers help each other.’
‘You’re my brother,’ I said. ‘No doubt about it.’
He patted me on the back so hard he almost knocked me down the sand dune. Then he wiped a tear from his cheek and stood to go. ‘Use the shield well.’
‘I will, big guy.’
‘Save your life some day.’
The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, I wondered if that Cyclops eye of his could see into the future.
He headed down to the beach and whistled. Rainbow, the hippocampus, burst out of the waves. I watched the two of them ride off together into the realm of Poseidon.
Once they were gone, I looked down at my new wristwatch. I pressed the button and the shield spiralled out to full size. Hammered into the bronze were pictures in Ancient Greek style, scenes from our adventures this summer. There was Annabeth slaying a Laistrygonian dodgeball player, me fighting the bronze bulls on Half-Blood Hill, Tyson riding Rainbow towards the Princess Andromeda, the CSS Birmingham blasting its cannons at Charybdis. I ran my hand across a picture of Tyson battling the Hydra as he held aloft a box of Monster Doughnuts.
I couldn’t help feeling sad. I knew Tyson would have an awesome time under the ocean. But I’d miss everything about him – his fascination with horses, the way he could fix chariots or crumple metal with his bare hands, or tie bad guys into knots. I’d even miss him snoring like an earthquake in the next bunk all night.
‘Hey, Percy.’
I turned.
Annabeth and Grover were standing at the top of the sand dune. I guess maybe I had some sand in my eyes, because I was blinking a lot.
‘Tyson…’ I told them. ‘He had to…’
‘We know,’ Annabeth said softly. ‘Chiron told us.’
‘Cyclopes’ forges.’ Grover shuddered. ‘I hear the cafeteria food there is terrible! Like, no enchiladas at all.’
Annabeth held out her hand. ‘Come on, Seaweed Brain. Time for dinner.’
We walked back towards the dining pavilion together, just the three of us, like old times.
A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in our valley. We were protected again thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside our magical borders.
Still, my dreams were restless. I heard Kronos taunting me from the depths of Tartarus: Polyphemus sits blindly in his cave, young hero, believing he has won a great victory. Are you any less deluded? The titan’s cold laughter filled the darkness.
Then my dream changed. I was following Tyson to the bottom of the sea, into the court of Poseidon. It was a radiant hall filled with blue light, the floor cobbled with pearls. And there, on a throne of coral, sat my father, dressed like a simple fisherman in khaki shorts and a sun-bleached T-shirt. I looked up into his tanned, weathered face, his deep green eyes, and he spoke two words: Brace yourself.
I woke with a start.
There was a banging on the door. Grover flew inside without waiting for permission. ‘Percy!’ he stammered. ‘Annabeth … on the hill … she…’
The look in his eyes told me something was terribly wrong. Annabeth had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. If something had happened –
I ripped off the covers, my blood like ice water in my veins. I threw on some clothes while Grover tried to make a complete sentence, but he was too stunned, too out of breath. ‘She’s lying there … just lying there…’
I ran outside and raced across the central yard, Grover right behind me. Dawn was just breaking, but the whole camp seemed to be stirring. Word was spreading. Something huge had happened. A few campers were already making their way towards the hill, satyrs and nymphs and heroes in a weird mix of armour and pyjamas.
I heard the clop of horse hooves, and Chiron galloped up behind us, looking grim.
‘Is it true?’ he asked Grover.
Grover could only nod, his expression dazed.
I tried to ask what was going on, but Chiron grabbed me by the arm and effortlessly lifted me onto his back. Together we thundered up Half-Blood Hill, where a small crowd had started to gather.
I expected to see the Fleece missing from the pine tree, but it was still there, glittering in the first light of dawn. The storm had broken and the sky was blood-red.
‘Curse the Titan Lord,’ Chiron said. ‘He’s tricked us again, given himself another chance to control the prophecy.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘The Fleece,’ he said. ‘The Fleece did its work too well.’
We galloped forward, everyone moving out of our way. There at the base of the tree, a girl was lying unconscious. Another girl in Greek armour was kneeling next to her.
Blood roared in my ears. I couldn’t think straight. Annabeth had been attacked? But why was the Fleece still there?
The tree itself looked perfectly fine, whole and healthy, suffused with the essence of the Golden Fleece.
‘It healed the tree,’ Chiron said, his voice ragged. ‘And poison was not the only thing it purged.’
Then I realized Annabeth wasn’t the one lying on the ground. She was the one in armour, kneeling next to the unconscious girl. When Annabeth saw us, she ran to Chiron. ‘It … she … just suddenly there…’
Her eyes were streaming with tears, but I still didn’t understand. I was too freaked out to make sense of it all. I leaped off Chiron’s back and ran towards the unconscious girl. Chiron said, ‘Percy, wait!’
I knelt by her side. She had short black hair and freckles across her nose. She was built like a long-distance runner, lithe and strong, and she wore clothes that were somewhere between punk and Goth – a black T-shirt, black tattered jeans, and a leather jacket with badges from a bunch of bands I’d never heard of.
She wasn’t a camper. I didn’t recognize her from any of the cabins. And yet I had the strangest feeling I’d seen her before…
‘It’s true,’ Grover said, panting from his run up the hill. ‘I can’t believe…’
Nobody else came close to the girl.
I put my hand on her forehead. Her skin was cold, but my fingertips tingled as if they were burning.
‘She needs nectar and ambrosia,’ I said. She was clearly a half-blood, whether she was a camper or not. I could sense that just from one touch. I didn’t understand why everyone was acting so scared.
I took her by the shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position, resting her head on my shoulder.
‘Come on!’ I yelled to the ot
hers. ‘What’s wrong with you people? Let’s get her to the Big House.’
No one moved, not even Chiron. They were all too stunned.
Then the girl took a shaky breath. She coughed and opened her eyes.
Her irises were startlingly blue – electric blue.
The girl stared at me in bewilderment, shivering and wild-eyed. ‘Who –’
‘I’m Percy,’ I said. ‘You’re safe now.’
‘Strangest dream…’
‘It’s okay.’
‘Dying.’
‘No,’ I assured her. ‘You’re okay. What’s your name?’
That’s when I knew. Even before she said it.
The girl’s blue eyes stared into mine, and I understood what the Golden Fleece quest had been about. The poisoning of the tree. Everything. Kronos had done it to bring another chess piece into play – another chance to control the prophecy.
Even Chiron, Annabeth and Grover, who should’ve been celebrating this moment, were too shocked, thinking about what it might mean for the future. And I was holding someone who was destined to be my best friend, or possibly my worst enemy.
‘I am Thalia,’ the girl said. ‘Daughter of Zeus.’
RICK RIORDAN
PUFFIN
Contents
1 • My Rescue Operation Goes Very Wrong
2 • The Vice-principal Gets a Missile Launcher
3 • Bianca di Angelo Makes a Choice
4 • Thalia Torches New England
5 • I Make an Underwater Phone Call
6 • An Old Dead Friend Comes to Visit
7 • Everybody Hates Me but the Horse
8 • I Make a Dangerous Promise
9 • I Learn How to Grow Zombies
10 • I Break a Few Rocket Ships
11 • Grover Gets a Lamborghini
12 • I Go Snowboarding with a Pig
13 • We Visit the Junkyard of the Gods
14 • I Have a Dam Problem
15 • I Wrestle Santa’s Evil Twin
16 • We Meet the Dragon of Eternal Bad Breath
17 • I Put on a Few Million Extra Kilograms
18 • A Friend Says Goodbye
19 • The Gods Vote How to Kill Us
20 • I Get a New Enemy for Christmas
To Topher Bradfield, a camper who made all the difference
1 My Rescue Operation Goes Very Wrong
The Friday before winter break, my mom packed me an overnight bag and a few deadly weapons, and took me to a new boarding school. We picked up my friends Annabeth and Thalia on the way.
It was an eight-hour drive from New York to Bar Harbor, Maine. Sleet and snow pounded the highway. Annabeth, Thalia and I hadn’t seen each other in months, but between the blizzard and the thought of what we were about to do, we were too nervous to talk much. Except for my mom. She talks more when she’s nervous. By the time we finally got to Westover Hall, it was getting dark, and she’d told Annabeth and Thalia every embarrassing baby story there was to tell about me.
Thalia wiped the fog off the car window and peered outside. ‘Oh, yeah. This’ll be fun.’
Westover Hall looked like an evil knight’s castle. It was all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. It stood on a snowy cliff overlooking this big frosty forest on one side and the grey churning ocean on the other.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to wait?’ my mother asked.
‘No, thanks, Mom,’ I said. ‘I don’t know how long it will take. We’ll be okay.’
‘But how will you get back? I’m worried, Percy.’
I hoped I wasn’t blushing. It was bad enough I had to depend on my mom to drive me to my battles.
‘It’s okay, Ms Jackson.’ Annabeth smiled reassuringly. Her blonde hair was tucked into a ski cap and her grey eyes were the same colour as the ocean. ‘We’ll keep him out of trouble.’
My mom seemed to relax a little. She thinks Annabeth is the most level-headed demigod ever to hit eighth grade. She’s sure Annabeth often keeps me from getting killed. She’s right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
‘All right, dears,’ my mom said. ‘Do you have everything you need?’
‘Yes, Ms Jackson,’ Thalia said. ‘Thanks for the ride.’
‘Extra sweaters? You have my cell phone number?’
‘Mom –’
‘Your ambrosia and nectar, Percy? And a golden drachma in case you need to contact camp?’
‘Mom, seriously! We’ll be fine. Come on, guys.’
She looked a little hurt, and I was sorry about that, but I was ready to be out of that car. If my mom told one more story about how cute I looked in the bath when I was three years old, I was going to burrow into the snow and freeze myself to death.
Annabeth and Thalia followed me outside. The wind blew straight through my coat like ice daggers.
Once my mother’s car was out of sight, Thalia said, ‘Your mom is so cool, Percy.’
‘She’s pretty okay,’ I admitted. ‘What about you? You ever get in touch with your mom?’
As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. Thalia was great at giving evil looks, what with the punk clothes she always wears – the ripped-up army jacket, black leather trousers and chain jewellery, the black eyeliner and those intense blue eyes. But the look she gave me now was a perfect evil ‘ten’. ‘If that was any of your business, Percy –’
‘We’d better get inside,’ Annabeth interrupted. ‘Grover will be waiting.’
Thalia looked at the castle and shivered. ‘You’re right. I wonder what he found here that made him send the distress call.’
I stared up at the dark towers of Westover Hall. ‘Nothing good,’ I guessed.
The oak doors groaned open, and the three of us stepped into the entry hall in a swirl of snow.
All I could say was, ‘Whoa.’
The place was huge. The walls were lined with battle flags and weapon displays: antique rifles, battleaxes and a bunch of other stuff. I mean, I knew Westover was a military school and all, but the decorations seemed like overkill. Literally.
My hand went to my pocket, where I kept my lethal ballpoint pen, Riptide. I could already sense something wrong in this place. Something dangerous. Thalia was rubbing her silver bracelet, her favourite magic item. I knew we were thinking the same thing. A fight was coming.
Annabeth started to say, ‘I wonder where –’
The doors slammed shut behind us.
‘Oo-kay,’ I mumbled. ‘Guess we’ll stay a while.’
I could hear music echoing from the other end of the hall. It sounded like dance music.
We stashed our overnight bags behind a pillar and started down the hall. We hadn’t gone very far when I heard footsteps on the stone floor, and a man and woman marched out of the shadows to intercept us.
They both had short grey hair and black military-style uniforms with red trim. The woman had a wispy moustache, and the guy was clean-shaven, which seemed kind of backwards to me. They both walked stiffly, like they had broomsticks taped to their spines.
‘Well?’ the woman demanded. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Um…’ I realized I hadn’t planned for this. I’d been so focused on getting to Grover and finding out what was wrong, I hadn’t considered that someone might question three kids sneaking into the school at night. We hadn’t talked at all in the car about how we would get inside. I said, ‘Ma’am, we’re just –’
‘Ha!’ the man snapped, which made me jump. ‘Visitors are not allowed at the dance! You shall be eee-jected!’
He had an accent – French, maybe. He pronounced his J like in Jacques. He was tall, with a hawkish face. His nostrils flared when he spoke, which made it really hard not to stare up his nose, and his eyes were two different colours – one brown, one blue – like an alley cat’s.
I figured he was about to toss us into the snow, but then Thalia stepped forward and did something very weird.
Sh
e snapped her fingers. The sound was sharp and loud. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt a gust of wind ripple out from her hand, across the room. It washed over all of us, making the banners rustle on the walls.
‘Oh, but we’re not visitors, sir,’ Thalia said. ‘We go to school here. You remember: I’m Thalia. And this is Annabeth and Percy. We’re in the eighth grade.’
The male teacher narrowed his two-coloured eyes. I didn’t know what Thalia was thinking. Now we’d probably get punished for lying and thrown into the snow. But the man seemed to be hesitating.
He looked at his colleague. ‘Ms Gottschalk, do you know these students?’
Despite the danger we were in, I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. A teacher named Got Chalk? He had to be kidding.
The woman blinked, like someone had just woken her up from a trance. ‘I… yes. I believe I do, sir.’ She frowned at us. ‘Annabeth. Thalia. Percy. What are you doing away from the gymnasium?’
Before we could answer, I heard more footsteps, and Grover ran up, breathless. ‘You made it! You –’
He stopped short when he saw the teachers. ‘Oh, Mrs Gottschalk. Dr Thorn! I, uh –’
‘What is it, Mr Underwood?’ said the man. His tone made it clear that he detested Grover. ‘What do you mean they made it? These students live here.’
Grover swallowed. ‘Yes, sir. Of course, Dr Thorn. I just meant I’m so glad they made… the punch for the dance! The punch is great. And they made it!’
