Текст книги "The Titan's Curse"

Автор книги: Rick Riordan

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TWO

THE VICE PRINCIPAL GETS A MISSILE LAUNCHER

I didn’t know what kind of monster Dr. Thorn was, but he was fast.

Maybe I could defend myself if I could get my shield activated. All that it would take was a touch of my wristwatch. But defending the di Angelo kids was another matter. I needed help, and there was only one way I could think to get it.

I closed my eyes.

“What are you doing, Jackson?” hissed Dr. Thorn. “Keep moving!”

I opened my eyes and kept shuffling forward. “It’s my shoulder,” I lied, trying to sound miserable, which wasn’t hard. “It burns.”

“Bah! My poison causes pain. It will not kill you. Walk!”

Thorn herded us outside, and I tried to concentrate. I pictured Grover’s face. I focused on my feelings of fear and danger. Last summer, Grover had created an empathy link between us. He’d sent me visions in my dreams to let me know when he was in trouble. As far as I knew, we were still linked, but I’d never tried to contact Grover before. I didn’t even know if it would work while Grover was awake.

Hey, Grover! I thought. Thorn’s kidnapping us! He’s a poisonous spike-throwing maniac! Help!

Thorn marched us into the woods. We took a snowy path dimly lit by old-fashioned lamplights. My shoulder ached. The wind blowing through my ripped clothes was so cold that I felt like a Percysicle.

“There is a clearing ahead,” Thorn said. “We will summon your ride.”

“What ride?” Bianca demanded. “Where are you taking us?”

“Silence, you insufferable girl!”

“Don’t talk to my sister that way!” Nico said. His voice quivered, but I was impressed that he had the guts to say anything at all.

Dr. Thorn made a growling sound that definitely wasn’t human. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, but I forced myself to keep walking and pretend I was being a good little captive. Meanwhile, I projected my thoughts like crazy—anything to get Grover’s attention: Grover! Apples! Tin cans! Get your furry goat behind out here and bring some heavily armed friends!

“Halt,” Thorn said.

The woods had opened up. We’d reached a cliff overlooking the sea. At least, I sensed the sea was down there, hundreds of feet below. I could hear the waves churning and I could smell the cold salty froth. But all I could see was mist and darkness.

Dr. Thorn pushed us toward the edge. I stumbled, and Bianca caught me.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“What is he?” she whispered. “How do we fight him?”

“I . . . I’m working on it.”

“I’m scared,” Nico mumbled. He was fiddling with something—a little metal toy soldier of some kind.

“Stop talking!” Dr. Thorn said. “Face me!”

We turned.

Thorn’s two-tone eyes glittered hungrily. He pulled something from under his coat. At first I thought it was a switchblade, but it was only a phone. He pressed the side button and said, “The package—it is ready to deliver.”

There was a garbled reply, and I realized Thorn was in walkie-talkie mode. This seemed way too modern and creepy—a monster using a mobile phone.

I glanced behind me, wondering how far the drop was.

Dr. Thorn laughed. “By all means, Son of Poseidon. Jump! There is the sea. Save yourself.”

“What did he call you?” Bianca muttered.

“I’ll explain later,” I said.

“You do have a plan, right?”

Grover! I thought desperately. Come to me!

Maybe I could get both the di Angelos to jump with me into the ocean. If we survived the fall, I could use the water to protect us. I’d done things like that before. If my dad was in a good mood, and listening, he might help. Maybe.

“I would kill you before you ever reached the water,” Dr. Thorn said, as if reading my thoughts. “You do not realize who I am, do you?”

A flicker of movement behind him, and another missile whistled so close to me that it nicked my ear. Something had sprung up behind Dr. Thorn—like a catapult, but more flexible . . . almost like a tail.

“Unfortunately,” Thorn said, “you are wanted alive, if possible. Otherwise you would already be dead.”

“Who wants us?” Bianca demanded. “Because if you think you’ll get a ransom, you’re wrong. We don’t have any family. Nico and I . . .” Her voice broke a little. “We’ve got no one but each other.”

“Aww,” Dr. Thorn said. “Do not worry, little brats. You will be meeting my employer soon enough. Then you will have a brand-new family.”

“Luke,” I said. “You work for Luke.”

Dr. Thorn’s mouth twisted with distaste when I said the name of my old enemy—a former friend who’d tried to kill me several times. “You have no idea what is happening, Perseus Jackson. I will let the General enlighten you. You are going to do him a great service tonight. He is looking forward to meeting you.”

“The General?” I asked. Then I realized I’d said it with a French accent. “I mean . . . who’s the General?”

Thorn looked toward the horizon. “Ah, here we are. Your transportation.”

I turned and saw a light in the distance, a searchlight over the sea. Then I heard the chopping of helicopter blades getting louder and closer.

“Where are you taking us?” Nico said.

“You should be honored, my boy. You will have the opportunity to join a great army! Just like that silly game you play with cards and dolls.”

“They’re not dolls! They’re figurines! And you can take your great army and—”

“Now, now,” Dr. Thorn warned. “You will change your mind about joining us, my boy. And if you do not, well . . . there are other uses for half-bloods. We have many monstrous mouths to feed. The Great Stirring is underway.”

“The Great what?” I asked. Anything to keep him talking while I tried to figure out a plan.

“The stirring of monsters.” Dr. Thorn smiled evilly. “The worst of them, the most powerful, are now waking. Monsters that have not been seen in thousands of years. They will cause death and destruction the likes of which mortals have never known. And soon we shall have the most important monster of all—the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus!”

“Okay,” Bianca whispered to me. “He’s completely nuts.”

“We have to jump off the cliff,” I told her quietly. “Into the sea.”

“Oh, super idea. You’re completely nuts, too.”

I never got the chance to argue with her, because just then an invisible force slammed into me.

Looking back on it, Annabeth’s move was brilliant. Wearing her cap of invisibility, she plowed into the di Angelos and me, knocking us to the ground. For a split second, Dr. Thorn was taken by surprise, so his first volley of missiles zipped harmlessly over our heads. This gave Thalia and Grover a chance to advance from behind—Thalia wielding her magic shield, Aegis.

If you’ve never seen Thalia run into battle, you have never been truly frightened. She uses a huge spear that expands from this collapsible Mace canister she carries in her pocket, but that’s not the scary part. Her shield is modeled after one her dad Zeus uses—also called Aegis—a gift from Athena. The shield has the head of the gorgon Medusa molded into the bronze, and even though it won’t turn you to stone, it’s so horrible, most people will panic and run at the sight of it.

Even Dr. Thorn winced and growled when he saw it.

Thalia moved in with her spear. “For Zeus!”

I thought Dr. Thorn was a goner. Thalia jabbed at his head, but he snarled and swatted the spear aside. His hand changed into an orange paw, with enormous claws that sparked against Thalia’s shield as he slashed. If it hadn’t been for Aegis, Thalia would’ve been sliced like a loaf of bread. As it was, she managed to roll backward and land on her feet.

The sound of the helicopter was getting louder behind me, but I didn’t dare look.

Dr. Thorn launched another volley of missiles at Thalia, and this time I could see how he did it. He had a tail—a leathery, scorpionlike tail that bristled with spikes at the tip. The missiles deflected off Aegis, but the force of their impact knocked Thalia down.

Grover sprang forward. He put his reed pipes to his lips and began to play—a frantic jig that sounded like something pirates would dance to. Grass broke through the snow. Within seconds, rope-thick weeds were wrapping around Dr. Thorn’s legs, entangling him.

Dr. Thorn roared and began to change. He grew larger until he was in his true form—his face still human, but his body that of a huge lion. His leathery, spiky tail whipped deadly thorns in all directions.

“A manticore!” Annabeth said, now visible. Her magical New York Yankees cap had come off when she’d plowed into us.

“Who are you people?” Bianca di Angelo demanded. “And what is that?”

“A manticore?” Nico gasped. “He’s got three thousand attack power and plus five to saving throws!”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. The manticore clawed Grover’s magic weeds to shreds then turned toward us with a snarl.

“Get down!” Annabeth pushed the di Angelos flat into the snow. At the last second, I remembered my own shield. I hit my wristwatch, and metal plating spiraled out into a thick bronze shield. Not a moment too soon. The thorns impacted against it with such force they dented the metal. The beautiful shield, a gift from my brother, was badly damaged. I wasn’t sure it would even stop a second volley.

I heard a thwack and a yelp, and Grover landed next to me with a thud.

“Yield!” the monster roared.

“Never!” Thalia yelled from across the field. She charged the monster, and for a second, I thought she would run him through. But then there was a thunderous noise and a blaze of light from behind us. The helicopter appeared out of the mist, hovering just beyond the cliffs. It was a sleek black military-style gunship, with attachments on the sides that looked like laser-guided rockets. The helicopter had to be manned by mortals, but what was it doing here? How could mortals be working with a monster? The searchlights blinded Thalia, and the manticore swatted her away with its tail. Her shield flew off into the snow. Her spear flew in the other direction.

“No!” I ran out to help her. I parried away a spike just before it would’ve hit her chest. I raised my shield over us, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Dr. Thorn laughed. “Now do you see how hopeless it is? Yield, little heroes.”

We were trapped between a monster and a fully armed helicopter. We had no chance.

Then I heard a clear, piercing sound: the call of a hunting horn blowing in the woods.

The manticore froze. For a moment, no one moved. There was only the swirl of snow and wind and the chopping of the helicopter blades.

“No,” Dr. Thorn said. “It cannot be—”

His sentence was cut short when something shot past me like a streak of moonlight. A glowing silver arrow sprouted from Dr. Thorn’s shoulder.

He staggered backward, wailing in agony.

“Curse you!” Thorn cried. He unleashed his spikes, dozens of them at once, into the woods where the arrow had come from, but just as fast, silvery arrows shot back in reply. It almost looked like the arrows had intercepted the thorns in midair and sliced them in two, but my eyes must’ve been playing tricks on me. No one, not even Apollo’s kids at camp, could shoot with that much accuracy.

The manticore pulled the arrow out of his shoulder with a howl of pain. His breathing was heavy. I tried to swipe at him with my sword, but he wasn’t as injured as he looked. He dodged my attack and slammed his tail into my shield, knocking me aside.

Then the archers came from the woods. They were girls, about a dozen of them. The youngest was maybe ten. The oldest, about fourteen, like me. They wore silvery ski parkas and jeans, and they were all armed with bows. They advanced on the manticore with determined expressions.

“The Hunters!” Annabeth cried.

Next to me, Thalia muttered, “Oh, wonderful.”

I didn’t have a chance to ask what she meant.

One of the older archers stepped forward with her bow drawn. She was tall and graceful with coppery colored skin. Unlike the other girls, she had a silver circlet braided into the top of her long dark hair, so she looked like some kind of Persian princess. “Permission to kill, my lady?”

I couldn’t tell who she was talking to, because she kept her eyes on the manticore.

The monster wailed. “This is not fair! Direct interference! It is against the Ancient Laws.”

“Not so,” another girl said. This one was a little younger than me, maybe twelve or thirteen. She had auburn hair gathered back in a ponytail and strange eyes, silvery yellow like the moon. Her face was so beautiful it made me catch my breath, but her expression was stern and dangerous. “The hunting of all wild beasts is within my sphere. And you, foul creature, are a wild beast.” She looked at the older girl with the circlet. “Zoë, permission granted.”

The manticore growled. “If I cannot have these alive, I shall have them dead!”

He lunged at Thalia and me, knowing we were weak and dazed.

“No!” Annabeth yelled, and she charged at the monster.

“Get back, half-blood!” the girl with the circlet said. “Get out of the line of fire!”

But Annabeth leaped onto the monster’s back and drove her knife into his mane. The manticore howled, turning in circles with his tail flailing as Annabeth hung on for dear life.

“Fire!” Zoë ordered.

“No!” I screamed.

But the Hunters let their arrows fly. The first caught the manticore in the neck. Another hit his chest. The manticore staggered backward, wailing, “This is not the end, Huntress! You shall pay!”

And before anyone could react, the monster, with Annabeth still on his back, leaped over the cliff and tumbled into the darkness.

“Annabeth!” I yelled.

I started to run after her, but our enemies weren’t done with us. There was a snap-snap-snap from the helicopter—the sound of gunfire.

Most of the Hunters scattered as tiny holes appeared in the snow at their feet, but the girl with auburn hair just looked up calmly at the helicopter.

“Mortals,” she announced, “are not allowed to witness my hunt.”

She thrust out her hand, and the helicopter exploded into dust—no, not dust. The black metal dissolved into a flock of birds—ravens, which scattered into the night.

The Hunters advanced on us.

The one called Zoë stopped short when she saw Thalia. “You,” she said with distaste.

“Zoë Nightshade.” Thalia’s voice trembled with anger. “Perfect timing, as usual.”

Zoë scanned the rest of us. “Four half-bloods and a satyr, my lady.”

“Yes,” the younger girl said. “Some of Chiron’s campers, I see.”

“Annabeth!” I yelled. “You have to let us save her!”

The auburn-haired girl turned toward me. “I’m sorry, Percy Jackson, but your friend is beyond help.”

I tried to struggle to my feet, but a couple of the girls held me down.

“You are in no condition to be hurling yourself off cliffs,” the auburn-haired girl said.

“Let me go!” I demanded. “Who do you think you are?”

Zoë stepped forward as if to smack me.

“No,” the other girl ordered. “I sense no disrespect, Zoë. He is simply distraught. He does not understand.”

The young girl looked at me, her eyes colder and brighter than the winter moon. “I am Artemis,” she said. “Goddess of the Hunt.”

THREE

BIANCA DI ANGELO MAKES A CHOICE

After seeing Dr. Thorn turn into a monster and plummet off the edge of a cliff with Annabeth, you’d think nothing else could shock me. But when this twelve-year-old girl told me she was the goddess Artemis, I said something real intelligent like, “Um . . . okay.”

That was nothing compared to Grover. He gasped, then knelt hastily in the snow and started yammering, “Thank you, Lady Artemis! You’re so . . . you’re so . . . Wow!”

“Get up, goat boy!” Thalia snapped. “We have other things to worry about. Annabeth is gone!”

“Whoa,” Bianca di Angelo said. “Hold up. Time out.”

Everybody looked at her. She pointed her finger at all of us in turn, like she was trying to connect the dots. “Who . . . who are you people?”

Artemis’s expression softened. “It might be a better question, my dear girl, to ask who are you? Who are your parents?”

Bianca glanced nervously at her brother, who was still staring in awe at Artemis.

“Our parents are dead,” Bianca said. “We’re orphans. There’s a bank trust that pays for our school, but . . .”

She faltered. I guess she could tell from our faces that we didn’t believe her.

“What?” she demanded. “I’m telling the truth.”

“You are a half-blood,” Zoë Nightshade said. Her accent was hard to place. It sounded old-fashioned, like she was reading from a really old book. “One of thy parents was mortal. The other was an Olympian.”

“An Olympian . . . athlete?”

“No,” Zoë said. “One of the gods.”

“Cool!” said Nico.

“No!” Bianca’s voice quavered. “This is not cool!”

Nico danced around like he needed to use the restroom. “Does Zeus really have lightning bolts that do six hundred damage? Does he get extra movement points for—”

“Nico, shut up!” Bianca put her hands to her face. “This is not your stupid Mythomagic game, okay? There are no gods!”

As anxious as I felt about Annabeth—all I wanted to do was search for her—I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the di Angelos. I remembered what it was like for me when I first learned I was a demigod.

Thalia must’ve been feeling something similar, because the anger in her eyes subsided a little bit. “Bianca, I know it’s hard to believe. But the gods are still around. Trust me. They’re immortal. And whenever they have kids with regular humans, kids like us, well . . . Our lives are dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” Bianca said, “like the girl who fell.”

Thalia turned away. Even Artemis looked pained.

“Do not despair for Annabeth,” the goddess said. “She was a brave maiden. If she can be found, I shall find her.”

“Then why won’t you let us go look for her?” I asked.

“She is gone. Can’t you sense it, Son of Poseidon? Some magic is at work. I do not know exactly how or why, but your friend has vanished.”

I still wanted to jump off the cliff and search for her, but I had a feeling that Artemis was right. Annabeth was gone. If she’d been down there in the sea, I thought, I’d be able to feel her presence.

“Oo!” Nico raised his hand. “What about Dr. Thorn? That was awesome how you shot him with arrows! Is he dead?”

“He was a manticore,” Artemis said. “Hopefully he is destroyed for now, but monsters never truly die. They re-form over and over again, and they must be hunted whenever they reappear.”

“Or they’ll hunt us,” Thalia said.

Bianca di Angelo shivered. “That explains . . . Nico, you remember last summer, those guys who tried to attack us in the alley in D.C.?”

“And that bus driver,” Nico said. “The one with the ram’s horns. I told you that was real.”

“That’s why Grover has been watching you,” I said. “To keep you safe, if you turned out to be half-bloods.”

“Grover?” Bianca stared at him. “You’re a demigod?”

“Well, a satyr, actually.” He kicked off his shoes and displayed his goat hooves. I thought Bianca was going to faint right there.

“Grover, put your shoes back on,” Thalia said. “You’re freaking her out.”

“Hey, my hooves are clean!”

“Bianca,” I said, “we came here to help you. You and Nico need training to survive. Dr. Thorn won’t be the last monster you meet. You need to come to camp.”

“Camp?” she asked.

“Camp Half-Blood,” I said. “It’s where half-bloods learn to survive and stuff. You can join us, stay there year-round if you like.”

“Sweet, let’s go!” said Nico.

“Wait.” Bianca shook her head. “I don’t—”

“There is another option,” Zoë said.

“No, there isn’t!” Thalia said.

Thalia and Zoë glared at each other. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but I could tell there was bad history between them. For some reason, they seriously hated each other.

“We’ve burdened these children enough,” Artemis announced. “Zoë, we will rest here for a few hours. Raise the tents. Treat the wounded. Retrieve our guests’ belongings from the school.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And, Bianca, come with me. I would like to speak with you.”

“What about me?” Nico asked.

Artemis considered the boy. “Perhaps you can show Grover how to play that card game you enjoy. I’m sure Grover would be happy to entertain you for a while . . . as a favor to me?”

Grover just about tripped over himself getting up. “You bet! Come on, Nico!”

Nico and Grover walked off toward the woods, talking about hit points and armor ratings and a bunch of other geeky stuff. Artemis led a confused-looking Bianca along the cliff. The Hunters began unpacking their knapsacks and making camp.

Zoë gave Thalia one more evil look, then left to oversee things.

As soon as she was gone, Thalia stamped her foot in frustration. “The nerve of those Hunters! They think they’re so . . . Argh!”

“I’m with you,” I said. “I don’t trust—”

“Oh, you’re with me?” Thalia turned on me furiously. “What were you thinking back there in the gym, Percy? You’d take on Dr. Thorn all by yourself ? You knew he was a monster!”

“I—”

“If we’d stuck together, we could’ve taken him without the Hunters getting involved. Annabeth might still be here. Did you think of that?”

My jaw clenched. I thought of some harsh things to say, and I might’ve said them too, but then I looked down and saw something navy blue lying in the snow at my feet. Annabeth’s New York Yankees baseball cap.

Thalia didn’t say another word. She wiped a tear from her cheek, turned, and marched off, leaving me alone with a trampled cap in the snow.

* * *

The Hunters set up their camping site in a matter of minutes. Seven large tents, all of silver silk, curved in a crescent around one side of a bonfire. One of the girls blew a silver dog whistle, and a dozen white wolves appeared out of the woods. They began circling the camp like guard dogs. The Hunters walked among them and fed them treats, completely unafraid, but I decided I would stick close to the tents. Falcons watched us from the trees, their eyes flashing in the firelight, and I got the feeling they were on guard duty, too. Even the weather seemed to bend to the goddess’s will. The air was still cold, but the wind died down and the snow stopped falling, so it was almost pleasant sitting by the fire.

Almost . . . except for the pain in my shoulder and the guilt weighing me down. I couldn’t believe Annabeth was gone. And as angry as I was at Thalia, I had a sinking feeling that she was right. It was my fault.

What had Annabeth wanted to tell me in the gym? Something serious, she’d said. Now I might never find out. I thought about how we’d danced together for half a song, and my heart felt even heavier.

I watched Thalia pacing in the snow at the edge of camp, walking among the wolves without fear. She stopped and looked back at Westover Hall, which was now completely dark, looming on the hillside beyond the woods. I wondered what she was thinking.

Seven years ago, Thalia had been turned into a pine tree by her father, to prevent her from dying. She’d stood her ground against an army of monsters on top of Half-Blood Hill in order to give her friends Luke and Annabeth time to escape. She’d only been back as a human for a few months now, and once in a while she would stand so motionless you’d think she was still a tree.

Finally, one of the Hunters brought me my backpack. Grover and Nico came back from their walk, and Grover helped me fix up my wounded arm.

“It’s green!” Nico said with delight.

“Hold still,” Grover told me. “Here, eat some ambrosia while I clean that out.”

I winced as he dressed the wound, but the ambrosia square helped. It tasted like homemade brownie, dissolving in my mouth and sending a warm feeling through my whole body. Between that and the magic salve Grover used, my shoulder felt better within a couple of minutes.

Nico rummaged through his own bag, which the Hunters had apparently packed for him, though how they’d snuck into Westover Hall unseen, I didn’t know. Nico laid out a bunch of figurines in the snow—little battle replicas of Greek gods and heroes. I recognized Zeus with a lightning bolt, Ares with a spear, Apollo with his sun chariot.

“Big collection,” I said.

Nico grinned. “I’ve got almost all of them, plus their holographic cards! Well, except for a few really rare ones.”

“You’ve been playing this game a long time?”

“Just this year. Before that . . .” He knit his eyebrows.

“What?” I asked.

“I forget. That’s weird.”

He looked unsettled, but it didn’t last long. “Hey, can I see that sword you were using?”

I showed him Riptide, and explained how it turned from a pen into a sword just by uncapping it.

“Cool! Does it ever run out of ink?”

“Um, well, I don’t actually write with it.”

“Are you really the son of Poseidon?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Can you surf really well, then?”

I looked at Grover, who was trying hard not to laugh.

“Jeez, Nico,” I said. “I’ve never really tried.”

He went on asking questions. Did I fight a lot with Thalia, since she was a daughter of Zeus? (I didn’t answer that one.) If Annabeth’s mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, then why didn’t Annabeth know better than to fall off a cliff ? (I tried not to strangle Nico for asking that one.) Was Annabeth my girlfriend? (At this point, I was ready to stick the kid in a meat-flavored sack and throw him to the wolves.)

I figured any second he was going to ask me how many hit points I had, and I’d lose my cool completely, but then Zoë Nightshade came up to us.

“Percy Jackson.”

She had dark brown eyes and a slightly upturned nose. With her silver circlet and her proud expression, she looked so much like royalty that I had to resist the urge to sit up straight and say “Yes, ma’am.” She studied me distastefully, like I was a bag of dirty laundry she’d been sent to fetch.

“Come with me,” she said. “Lady Artemis wishes to speak with thee.”

* * *

Zoë led me to the last tent, which looked no different from the others, and waved me inside. Bianca di Angelo was seated next to the auburn-haired girl, who I still had trouble thinking of as Artemis.

The inside of the tent was warm and comfortable. Silk rugs and pillows covered the floor. In the center, a golden brazier of fire seemed to burn without fuel or smoke. Behind the goddess, on a polished oak display stand, was her huge silver bow, carved to resemble gazelle horns. The walls were hung with animal pelts: black bear, tiger, and several others I didn’t recognize. I figured an animal rights activist would’ve had a heart attack looking at all those rare skins, but maybe since Artemis was the goddess of the hunt, she could replenish whatever she shot. I thought she had another animal pelt lying next to her, and then I realized it was a live animal—a deer with glittering fur and silver horns, its head resting contentedly in Artemis’s lap.

“Join us, Percy Jackson,” the goddess said.

I sat across from her on the tent floor. The goddess studied me, which made me uncomfortable. She had such old eyes for a young girl.

“Are you surprised by my age?” she asked.

“Uh . . . a little.”

“I could appear as a grown woman, or a blazing fire, or anything else I want, but this is what I prefer. This is the average age of my Hunters, and all young maidens for whom I am patron, before they go astray.”

“Go astray?” I asked.

“Grow up. Become smitten with boys. Become silly, preoccupied, insecure. Forget themselves.”

“Oh.”

Zoë sat down at Artemis’s right. She glared at me as if all the stuff Artemis had just said was my fault, like I’d invented the idea of being a guy.

“You must forgive my Hunters if they do not welcome you,” Artemis said. “It is very rare that we would have boys in this camp. Boys are usually forbidden to have any contact with the Hunters. The last one to see this camp . . .” She looked at Zoë. “Which one was it?”

“That boy in Colorado,” Zoë said. “You turned him into a jackalope.”

“Ah, yes.” Artemis nodded, satisfied. “I enjoy making jackalopes. At any rate, Percy, I’ve asked you here so that you might tell me more of the manticore. Bianca has reported some of the . . . mmm, disturbing things the monster said. But she may not have understood them. I’d like to hear them from you.”

And so I told her.

When I was done, Artemis put her hand thoughtfully on her silver bow. “I feared this was the answer.”

Zoë sat forward. “The scent, my lady?”

“Yes.”

“What scent?” I asked.

“Things are stirring that I have not hunted in millennia,” Artemis murmured. “Prey so old I have nearly forgotten.”

She stared at me intently. “We came here tonight sensing the manticore, but he was not the one I seek. Tell me again, exactly what Dr. Thorn said.”

“Um, ‘I hate middle school dances.’”

“No, no. After that.”

“He said somebody called the General was going to explain things to me.” Zoë’s face paled. She turned to Artemis and started to say something, but Artemis raised her hand. “Go on, Percy,” the goddess said. “Well, then Thorn was talking about the Great Stir Pot—”

“Stirring,” Bianca corrected. “Yeah. And he said, ‘Soon we shall have the most important monster of all—the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus.’” The goddess was so still she could’ve been a statue. “Maybe he was lying,” I said. Artemis shook her head. “No. He was not. I’ve been too slow to see the signs. I must hunt this monster.” Zoë looked like she was trying very hard not to be afraid, but she nodded. “We will leave right away, my lady.”

“No, Zoë. I must do this alone.”

“But, Artemis—”

“This task is too dangerous even for the Hunters. You know where I must start my search. You cannot go there with me.”

“As . . . as you wish, my lady.”

“I will find this creature,” Artemis vowed. “And I shall bring it back to Olympus by winter solstice. It will be all the proof I need to convince the Council of the Gods of how much danger we are in.”

“You know what the monster is?” I asked.

Artemis gripped her bow. “Let us pray I am wrong.”

“Can goddesses pray?” I asked, because I’d never really thought about that.

A flicker of a smile played across Artemis’s lips. “Before I go, Percy Jackson, I have a small task for you.”

“Does it involve getting turned into a jackalope?”

“Sadly, no. I want you to escort the Hunters back to Camp Half-Blood. They can stay there in safety until I return.”

“What?” Zoë blurted out. “But, Artemis, we hate that place. The last time we stayed there—”

“Yes, I know,” Artemis said. “But I’m sure Dionysus will not hold a grudge just because of a little, ah, misunderstanding. It’s your right to use Cabin Eight whenever you are in need. Besides, I hear they rebuilt the cabins you burned down.”