The Titan's Curse (6 page)

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Authors: Rick Riordan

Tags: #Fiction - Young Adult

BOOK: The Titan's Curse
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I made the rounds, telling everybody about capture the flag. I woke up some Ares kid from his midday nap and he yelled at me to go away. When I asked him where Clarisse was he said, “Went on a quest for Chiron. Top secret!”

“Is she okay?”

“Haven't heard from her in a month. She's missing in action. Like your butt's gonna be if you don't get outta here!”

I decided to let him go back to sleep.

Finally I got to Cabin Three, the cabin of Poseidon. It was a low gray building hewn from sea stone, with shells and coral fossils imprinted in the rock. Inside, it was just as empty as always, except for my bunk. A Minotaur horn hung on the wall next to my pillow.

I took Annabeth's baseball cap out of my backpack and set it on my nightstand. I'd give it to her when I found her. And I
would
find her.

I took off my wristwatch and activated the shield. It creaked noisily as it spiraled out. Dr. Thorn's spikes had dented the brass in a dozen places. One gash kept the shield from opening all the way, so it looked like a pizza with two slices missing. The beautiful metal pictures that my brother had crafted were all banged up. In the picture of me and Annabeth fighting the Hydra, it looked like a meteor had made a crater in my head. I hung the shield on its hook, next to the Minotaur horn, but it was painful to look at now. Maybe Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin could fix it for me. He was the best armorsmith in the camp. I'd ask him at dinner.

I was staring at the shield when I noticed a strange sound—water gurgling—and I realized there was something new in the room. At the back of the cabin was a big basin of gray sea rock, with a spout like the head of a fish carved in stone. Out of its mouth burst a stream of water, a saltwater spring that trickled into the pool. The water must've been hot, because it sent mist into the cold winter air like a sauna. It made the room feel warm and summery, fresh with the smell of the sea.

I stepped up to the pool. There was no note attached or anything, but I knew it could only be a gift from Poseidon.

I looked into the water and said, “Thanks, Dad.”

The surface rippled. At the bottom of the pool, coins shimmered—a dozen or so golden drachma. I realized what the fountain was for. It was a reminder to keep in touch with my family.

I opened the nearest window, and the wintry sunlight made a rainbow in the mist. Then I fished a coin out of the hot water.

“Iris, O Goddess of the Rainbow,” I said, “accept my offering.”

I tossed a coin into the mist and it disappeared. Then I realized I didn't know who to contact first.

My mom? That would've been the “good son” thing to do, but she wouldn't be worried about me yet. She was used to me disappearing for days or weeks at a time.

My father? It had been way too long, almost two years, since I'd actually talked to him. But could you even send an Iris-message to a god? I'd never tried. Would it make them mad, like a sales call or something?

I hesitated. Then I made up my mind.

“Show me Tyson,” I requested. “At the forges of the Cyclopes.”

The mist shimmered, and the image of my half brother appeared. He was surrounded in fire, which would've been a problem if he weren't a Cyclops. He was bent over an anvil, hammering a red-hot sword blade. Sparks flew and flames swirled around his body. There was a marble-framed window behind him, and it looked out onto dark blue water— the bottom of the ocean.

“Tyson!” I yelled.

He didn't hear me at first because of the hammering and the roar of the flames.

“TYSON!”

He turned, and his one enormous eye widened. His face broke into a crooked yellow grin. “Percy!”

He dropped the sword blade and ran at me, trying to give me a hug. The vision blurred and I instinctively lurched back. “Tyson, it's an Iris-message. I'm not really here.”

“Oh.” He came back into view, looking embarrassed. “Oh, I knew that. Yes.”

“How are you?” I asked. “How's the job?”

His eye lit up. “Love the job! Look!” He picked up the hot sword blade with his bare hands. “I made this!”

“That's really cool.”

“I wrote my name on it. Right there.”

“Awesome. Listen, do you talk to Dad much?”

Tyson's smile faded. “Not much. Daddy is busy. He is worried about the war.”

“What do you mean?”

Tyson sighed. He stuck the sword blade out the window, where it made a cloud of boiling bubbles. When Tyson brought it back in, the metal was cool. “Old sea spirits making trouble. Aigaios. Oceanus. Those guys.”

I sort of knew what he was talking about. He meant the immortals who ruled the oceans back in the days of the Titans. Before the Olympians took over. The fact that they were back now, with the Titan Lord Kronos and his allies gaining strength, was not good.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

Tyson shook his head sadly. “We are arming the mermaids. They need a thousand more swords by tomorrow.” He looked at his sword blade and sighed. “Old spirits are protecting the bad boat.”

“The
Princess Andromeda
?” I said. “Luke's boat?”

“Yes. They make it hard to find. Protect it from Daddy's storms. Otherwise he would smash it.”

“Smashing it would be good.”

Tyson perked up, as if he'd just had another thought. “Annabeth! Is she there?”

“Oh, well . . .” My heart felt like a bowling ball. Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter (and he seriously loved peanut butter). I didn't have the heart to tell him she was missing. He'd start crying so bad he'd probably put out his fires. “Well, no . . . she's not here right now.”

“Tell her hello!” He beamed. “Hello to Annabeth!”

“Okay.” I fought back a lump in my throat. “I'll do that.”

“And, Percy, don't worry about the bad boat. It is going away.”

“What do you mean?”

“Panama Canal! Very far away.”

I frowned. Why would Luke take his demon-infested cruise ship all the way down there? The last time we'd seen him, he'd been cruising along the East Coast, recruiting half-bloods and training his monstrous army.

“All right,” I said, not feeling reassured. “That's . . . good. I guess.”

In the forges, a deep voice bellowed something I couldn't make out. Tyson flinched. “Got to get back to work! Boss will get mad. Good luck, Brother!”

“Ok, tell Dad—”

But before I could finish, the vision shimmered and faded. I was alone again in my cabin, feeling even lonelier than before.

* * *

I was pretty miserable at dinner that night.

I mean, the food was excellent as usual. You can't go wrong with barbecue, pizza, and never-empty soda goblets. The torches and braziers kept the outdoor pavilion warm, but we all had to sit with our cabin mates, which meant I was alone at the Poseidon table. Thalia sat alone at the Zeus table, but we couldn't sit together. Camp rules. At least the Hephaestus, Ares, and Hermes cabins had a few people each. Nico sat with the Stoll brothers, since new campers always got stuck in the Hermes cabin if their Olympian parent was unknown. The Stoll brothers seemed to be trying to convince Nico that poker was a much better game than Mythomagic. I hoped Nico didn't have any money to lose.

The only table that really seemed to be having a good time was the Artemis table. The Hunters drank and ate and laughed like one big happy family. Zoë sat at the head like she was the mama. She didn't laugh as much as the others, but she did smile from time to time. Her silver lieutenant's band glittered in the dark braids of her hair. I thought she looked a lot nicer when she smiled. Bianca di Angelo seemed to be having a great time. She was trying to learn how to arm wrestle from the big girl who'd picked a fight with the Ares kid on the basketball court. The bigger girl was beating her every time, but Bianca didn't seem to mind.

When we'd finished eating, Chiron made the customary toast to the gods and formally welcomed the Hunters of Artemis. The clapping was pretty half hearted. Then he announced the “good will” capture-the-flag game for tomorrow night, which got a lot better reception.

Afterward, we all trailed back to our cabins for an early, winter lights out. I was exhausted, which meant I fell asleep easily. That was the good part. The bad part was, I had a nightmare, and even by my standards it was a whopper.

Annabeth was on a dark hillside, shrouded in fog. It almost seemed like the Underworld, because I immediately felt claustrophobic and I couldn't see the sky above—just a close, heavy darkness, as if I were in a cave.

Annabeth struggled up the hill. Old broken Greek columns of black marble were scattered around, as though something had blasted a huge building to ruins.

“Thorn!” Annabeth cried. “Where are you? Why did you bring me here?” She scrambled over a section of broken wall and came to the crest of the hill.

She gasped.

There was Luke. And he was in pain.

He was crumpled on the rocky ground, trying to rise. The blackness seemed to be thicker around him, fog swirling hungrily. His clothes were in tatters and his face was scratched and drenched with sweat.

“Annabeth!” he called. “Help me! Please!”

She ran forward.

I tried to cry out:
He's a traitor! Don't trust him!

But my voice didn't work in the dream.

Annabeth had tears in her eyes. She reached down like she wanted to touch Luke's face, but at the last second she hesitated.

“What happened?” she asked.

“They left me here,” Luke groaned. “Please. It's killing me.”

I couldn't see what was wrong with him. He seemed to be struggling against some invisible curse, as though the fog were squeezing him to death.

“Why should I trust you?” Annabeth asked. Her voice was filled with hurt.

“You shouldn't,” Luke said. “I've been terrible to you. But if you don't help me, I'll die.”

Let him die,
I wanted to scream. Luke had tried to kill us in cold blood too many times. He didn't deserve anything from Annabeth.

Then the darkness above Luke began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. Annabeth rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. She held it somehow—tons of rock. She kept it from collapsing on her and Luke just with her own strength. It was impossible. She shouldn't have been able to do that.

Luke rolled free, gasping. “Thanks,” he managed.

“Help me hold it,” Annabeth groaned.

Luke caught his breath. His face was covered in grime and sweat. He rose unsteadily.

“I knew I could count on you.” He began to walk away as the trembling blackness threatened to crush Annabeth.

“HELP ME!” she pleaded.

“Oh, don't worry,” Luke said. “Your help is on the way. It's all part of the plan. In the meantime, try not to die.”

The ceiling of darkness began to crumble again, pushing Annabeth against the ground.

I sat bolt upright in bed, clawing at the sheets. There was no sound in my cabin except the gurgle of the saltwater spring. The clock on my nightstand read just after midnight.

Only a dream, but I was sure of two things: Annabeth was in terrible danger. And Luke was responsible.

SIX

AN OLD DEAD FRIEND COMES TO VISIT

The next morning after breakfast, I told Grover about my dream. We sat in the meadow watching the satyrs chase the wood nymphs through the snow. The nymphs had promised to kiss the satyrs if they got caught, but they hardly ever did. Usually the nymph would let the satyr get up a full head of steam, then she'd turn into a snow-covered tree and the poor satyr would slam into it headfirst and get a pile of snow dumped on him.

When I told Grover my nightmare, he started twirling his finger in his shaggy leg fur.

“A cave ceiling collapsed on her?” he asked.

“Yeah. What the heck does that mean?”

Grover shook his head. “I don't know. But after what Zoë dreamed—”

“Whoa. What do you mean? Zoë had a dream like that?”

“I . . . I don't know, exactly. About three in the morning she came to the Big House and demanded to talk to Chiron. She looked really panicked.”

“Wait, how do you know this?”

Grover blushed. “I was sort of camped outside the Artemis cabin.”

“What for?”

“Just to be, you know, near them.”

“You're a stalker with hooves.”

“I am not! Anyway, I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing. She got real upset when Argus wouldn't let her in. It was kind of a dangerous scene.”

I tried to imagine that. Argus was the head of security for camp—a big blond dude with eyes all over his body. He rarely showed himself unless something serious was going on. I wouldn't want to place bets on a fight between him and Zoë Nightshade.

“What did she say?” I asked.

Grover grimaced. “Well, she starts talking really old-fashioned when she gets upset, so it was kind of hard to understand. But something about Artemis being in trouble and needing the Hunters. And then she called Argus a boil-brained lout . . . I think that's a bad thing. And then he called her—”

“Whoa, wait. How could Artemis be in trouble?”

“I . . . well, finally Chiron came out in his pajamas and his horse tail in curlers and—”

“He wears curlers in his tail?”

Grover covered his mouth.

“Sorry,” I said. “Go on.”

“Well, Zoë said she needed permission to leave camp immediately. Chiron refused. He reminded Zoë that the Hunters were supposed to stay here until they received orders from Artemis. And she said . . .” Grover gulped. “She said ‘How are we to get orders from Artemis if Artemis is lost?'”

“What do you mean lost? Like she needs directions?”

“No. I think she meant gone. Taken. Kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped?”
I tried to get my mind around that idea. “How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone.”

“But she was like, the goddess of
flowers
.”

Grover looked offended. “Springtime.”

“Whatever. Artemis is a lot more powerful than that. Who could kidnap her? And why?”

Grover shook his head miserably. “I don't know. Kronos?”

“He can't be that powerful already. Can he?”

The last time we'd seen Kronos, he'd been in tiny pieces. Well . . . we hadn't actually
seen
him. Thousands of years ago, after the big Titan–God war, the gods had sliced him to bits with his own scythe and scattered his remains in Tartarus, which is like the gods' bottomless recycling bin for their enemies. Two summers ago, Kronos had tricked us to the very edge of the pit and almost pulled us in. Then last summer, on board Luke's demon cruise ship, we'd seen a golden coffin, where Luke claimed he was summoning the Titan Lord out of the abyss, bit by bit, every time someone new joined their cause. Kronos could influence people with dreams and trick them, but I didn't see how he could physically overcome Artemis if he was still like a pile of evil bark mulch.

“I don't know,” Grover said. “I think somebody would know if Kronos had re-formed. The gods would be more nervous. But still, it's weird, you having a nightmare the same night as Zoë. It's almost like—”

“They're connected,” I said.

Over in the frozen meadow, a satyr skidded on his hooves as he chased after a redheaded tree nymph. She giggled and held out her arms as he ran toward her.
Pop!
She turned into a Scotch pine and he kissed the trunk at top speed.

“Ah, love,” Grover said dreamily.

I thought about Zoë's nightmare, which she'd had only a few hours after mine.

“I've got to talk to Zoë,” I said.

“Um, before you do . . .” Grover took something out of his coat pocket. It was a three-fold display like a travel brochure. “You remember what you said—about how it was weird the Hunters just happened to show up at Westover Hall? I think they might've been scouting us.”

“Scouting us? What do you mean?”

He gave me the brochure. It was about the Hunters of Artemis. The front read, A WISE CHOICE FOR YOUR FUTURE! Inside were pictures of young maidens doing hunter stuff, chasing monsters, shooting bows. There were captions like: HEALTH BENEFITS: IMMORTALITY AND WHAT IT MEANS FOR YOU! and A BOY-FREE TOMORROW!

“I found that in Annabeth's backpack,” Grover said.

I stared at him. “I don't understand.”

“Well, it seems to me . . . maybe Annabeth was thinking about joining.”

* * *

I'd like to say I took the news well.

The truth was, I wanted to strangle the Hunters of Artemis one eternal maiden at a time. The rest of the day I tried to keep busy, but I was worried sick about Annabeth. I went to javelin-throwing class, but the Ares camper in charge chewed me out after I got distracted and threw the javelin at the target before he got out of the way. I apologized for the hole in his pants, but he still sent me packing.

I visited the pegasus stables, but Silena Beauregard from the Aphrodite cabin was having an argument with one of the Hunters, and I decided I'd better not get involved.

After that, I sat in the empty chariot stands and sulked. Down at the archery fields, Chiron was conducting target practice. I knew he'd be the best person to talk to. Maybe he could give me some advice, but something held me back. I had a feeling Chiron would try to protect me, like he always did. He might not tell me everything he knew.

I looked the other direction. At the top of Half-Blood Hill, Mr. D and Argus were feeding the baby dragon that guarded the Golden Fleece.

Then it occurred to me: no one would be in the Big House. There was someone else . . . some
thing
else I could ask for guidance.

My blood was humming in my ears as I ran into the house and took the stairs. I'd only done this once before, and I still had nightmares about it. I opened the trap door and stepped into the attic.

The room was dark and dusty and cluttered with junk, just like I remembered. There were shields with monster bites out of them, and swords bent in the shapes of daemon heads, and a bunch of taxidermy, like a stuffed harpy and a bright orange python.

Over by the window, sitting on a three-legged stool, was the shriveled-up mummy of an old lady in a tie-dyed hippie dress. The Oracle.

I made myself walk toward her. I waited for green mist to billow from the mummy's mouth, like it had before, but nothing happened.

“Hi,” I said. “Uh, what's up?”

I winced at how stupid that sounded. Not much could be “up” when you're dead and stuck in the attic. But I knew the spirit of the Oracle was in there somewhere. I could feel a cold presence in the room, like a coiled sleeping snake.

“I have a question,” I said a little louder. “I need to know about Annabeth. How can I save her?”

No answer. The sun slanted through the dirty attic window, lighting the dust motes dancing in the air.

I waited longer.

Then I got angry. I was being stonewalled by a corpse.

“All right,” I said. “Fine. I'll figure it out myself.”

I turned and bumped into a big table full of souvenirs. It seemed more cluttered than the last time I was here. Heroes stored all kinds of stuff in the attic: quest trophies they no longer wanted to keep in their cabins, or stuff that held painful memories. I knew Luke had stored a dragon claw somewhere up here—the one that had scarred his face.

There was a broken sword hilt labeled:
This broke and Leroy got killed. 1999.

Then I noticed a pink silk scarf with a label attached to it. I picked up the tag and tried to read it:

 

SCARF OF THE GODDESS APHRODITE

Recovered at Waterland, Denver, Co.,

by Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson

 

I stared at the scarf. I'd totally forgotten about it. Two years ago, Annabeth had ripped this scarf out of my hands and said something like,
Oh, no. No love magic for you!

I'd just assumed she'd thrown it away. And yet here it was. She'd kept it all this time? And why had she stashed it in the attic?

I turned to the mummy. She hadn't moved, but the shadows across her face made it look like she was smiling gruesomely.

I dropped the scarf and tried not to run toward the exit.

That night after dinner, I was seriously ready to beat the Hunters at capture the flag. It was going to be a small game: only thirteen Hunters, including Bianca di Angelo, and about the same number of campers.

Zoë Nightshade looked pretty upset. She kept glancing resentfully at Chiron, like she couldn't believe he was making her do this. The other Hunters didn't look too happy, either. Unlike last night, they weren't laughing or joking around. They just huddled together in the dining pavilion, whispering nervously to each other as they strapped on their armor. Some of them even looked like they'd been crying. I guess Zoë had told them about her nightmare.

On our team, we had Beckendorf and two other Hephaestus guys, a few from the Ares cabin (though it still seemed strange that Clarisse wasn't around), the Stoll brothers and Nico from Hermes cabin, and a few Aphrodite kids. It was weird that the Aphrodite cabin wanted to play. Usually they sat on the sidelines, chatted, and checked their reflections in the river and stuff, but when they heard we were fighting the Hunters, they were raring to go.

“I'll show them ‘love is worthless,'” Silena Beauregard grumbled as she strapped on her armor. “I'll pulverize them!”

That left Thalia and me.

“I'll take the offense,” Thalia volunteered. “You take defense.”

“Oh.” I hesitated, because I'd been about to say the exact same thing, only reversed. “Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?”

Thalia already had Aegis on her arm, and even our own teammates were giving her a wide berth, trying not to cower before the bronze head of Medusa.

“Well, I was thinking it would make better offense,” Thalia said. “Besides, you've had more practice at defense.”

I wasn't sure if she was teasing me. I'd had some pretty bad experiences with defense on capture the flag. My first year, Annabeth had put me out as a kind of bait, and I'd almost been gored to death with spears and killed by a hellhound.

“Yeah, no problem,” I lied.

“Cool.” Thalia turned to help some of the Aphrodite kids, who were having trouble suiting up their armor without breaking their nails. Nico di Angelo ran up to me with a big grin on his face.

“Percy, this is awesome!” His blue-feathered bronze helmet was falling in his eyes, and his breastplate was about six sizes too big. I wondered if there was any way I'd looked that ridiculous when I'd first arrived. Unfortunately, I probably had.

Nico lifted his sword with effort. “Do we get to kill the other team?”

“Well . . . no.”

“But the Hunters are immortal, right?”

“That's only if they don't fall in battle. Besides—”

“It would be awesome if we just, like, resurrected as soon as we were killed, so we could keep fighting, and—”

“Nico, this is serious. Real swords. These can hurt.”

He stared at me, a little disappointed, and I realized that I'd just sounded like my mother. Whoa. Not a good sign.

I patted Nico on the shoulder. “Hey, it's cool. Just follow the team. Stay out of Zoë's way. We'll have a blast.”

Chiron's hoof thundered on the pavilion floor.

“Heroes!” he called. “You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!”

“Sweet,” Nico whispered next to me. “What kind of magic items? Do I get one?”

I was about to break it to him that he didn't, when Thalia said, “Blue team! Follow me!”

They cheered and followed. I had to run to catch up, and tripped over somebody's shield, so I didn't look much like a co-captain. More like an idiot.

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