Текст книги "The Titan's Curse"

Автор книги: Rick Riordan

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“Again?”

Yeah. I told the hippocampi I’d come get you.

I groaned. Anytime I was anywhere near the beach, the hippocampi would ask me to help them with their problems. And they had a lot of problems. Beached whales, porpoises caught in fishing nets, mermaids with hangnails– they’d call me to come underwater and help.

“All right,” I said. “I’m coming.”

You’re the best, boss.

“And don’t call me boss!”

Blackjack whinnied softly. It might’ve been a laugh.

I looked back at my comfortable bed. My bronze shield still hung on the wall, dented and unusable. And on my nightstand was Annabeth’s magic Yankees cap. On an impulse, I stuck the cap in my pocket. I guess I had a feeling, even then, that I wasn’t coming back to my cabin for a long, long time.

EIGHT

I MAKE A DANGEROUS PROMISE

Blackjack gave me a ride down the beach, and I have to admit it was cool. Being on a flying horse, skimming over the waves at a hundred miles an hour with the wind in my hair and the sea spray in my face—hey, it beats waterskiing any day.

Here. Blackjack slowed and turned in a circle. Straight down.

“Thanks.” I tumbled off his back and plunged into the icy sea.

I’d gotten more comfortable doing stunts like that the past couple of years. I could pretty much move however I wanted to underwater, just by willing the ocean currents to change around me and propel me along. I could breathe underwater, no problem, and my clothes never got wet unless I wanted them to.

I shot down into the darkness.

Twenty, thirty, forty feet. The pressure wasn’t uncomfortable. I’d never tried to push it—to see if there was a limit to how deep I could dive. I knew most regular humans couldn’t go past two hundred feet without crumpling like an aluminum can. I should’ve been blind, too, this deep in the water at night, but I could see the heat from living forms, and the cold of the currents. It’s hard to describe. It wasn’t like regular seeing, but I could tell where everything was.

As I got closer to the bottom, I saw three hippocampi—fish-tailed horses—swimming in a circle around an overturned boat. The hippocampi were beautiful to watch. Their fish tails shimmered in rainbow colors, glowing phosphorescent. Their manes were white, and they were galloping through the water the way nervous horses do in a thunderstorm. Something was upsetting them.

I got closer and saw the problem. A dark shape—some kind of animal—was wedged halfway under the boat and tangled in a fishing net, one of those big nets they use on trawlers to catch everything at once. I hated those things. It was bad enough they drowned porpoises and dolphins, but they also occasionally caught mythological animals. When the nets got tangled, some lazy fishermen would just cut them loose and let the trapped animals die.

Apparently this poor creature had been mucking around on the bottom of Long Island Sound and had somehow gotten itself tangled in the net of this sunken fishing boat. It had tried to get out and managed to get even more hopelessly stuck, shifting the boat in the process. Now the wreckage of the hull, which was resting against a big rock, was teetering and threatening to collapse on top of the tangled animal.

The hippocampi were swimming around frantically, wanting to help but not sure how. One was trying to chew the net, but hippocampi teeth just aren’t meant for cutting rope. Hippocampi are really strong, but they don’t have hands, and they’re not (shhh) all that smart.

Free it, lord! A hippocampus said when it saw me. The others joined in, asking the same thing.

I swam in for a closer look at the tangled creature. At first I thought it was a young hippocampus. I’d rescued several of them before. But then I heard a strange sound, something that did not belong underwater:

“Mooooooo!”

I got next to the thing and saw that it was a cow. I mean . . . I’d heard of sea cows, like manatees and stuff, but this really was a cow with the back end of a serpent. The front half was a calf—a baby, with black fur and big, sad brown eyes and a white muzzle—and its back half was a black-and-brown snaky tail with fins running down the top and bottom, like an enormous eel.

“Whoa, little one,” I said. “Where did you come from?”

The creature looked at me sadly. “Moooo!”

But I couldn’t understand its thoughts. I only speak horse.

We don’t know what it is, lord, one of the hippocampi said. Many strange things are stirring.

“Yeah,” I murmured. “So I’ve heard.”

I uncapped Riptide, and the sword grew to full length in my hands, its bronze blade gleaming in the dark.

The cow serpent freaked out and started struggling against the net, its eyes full of terror. “Whoa!” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you! Just let me cut the net.”

But the cow serpent thrashed around and got even more tangled. The boat started to tilt, stirring up the muck on the sea bottom and threatening to topple onto the cow serpent. The hippocampi whinnied in a panic and thrashed in the water, which didn’t help.

“Okay, okay!” I said. I put away the sword and started speaking as calmly as I could so the hippocampi and the cow serpent would stop panicking. I didn’t know if it was possible to get stampeded underwater, but I didn’t really want to find out. “It’s cool. No sword. See? No sword. Calm thoughts. Sea grass. Mama cows. Vegetarianism.”

I doubted the cow serpent understood what I was saying, but it responded to the tone of my voice. The hippocampi were still skittish, but they stopped swirling around me quite so fast.

Free it, lord! they pleaded.

“Yeah,” I said. “I got that part. I’m thinking.”

But how could I free the cow serpent when she (I decided it was probably a “she”) panicked at the sight of a blade? It was like she’d seen swords before and knew how dangerous they were.

“All right,” I told the hippocampi. “I need all of you to push exactly the way I tell you.”

First we started with the boat. It wasn’t easy, but with the strength of three horsepower, we managed to shift the wreckage so it was no longer threatening to collapse on the baby cow serpent. Then I went to work on the net, untangling it section by section, getting lead weights and fishing hooks straightened out, yanking out knots around the cow serpent’s hooves. It took forever—I mean, it was worse than the time I’d had to untangle all my video game controller wires. The whole time, I kept talking to the cow fish, telling her everything was okay while she mooed and moaned.

“It’s okay, Bessie,” I said. Don’t ask me why I started calling her that. It just seemed like a good cow name. “Good cow. Nice cow.”

Finally, the net came off and the cow serpent zipped through the water and did a happy somersault.

The hippocampi whinnied with joy. Thank you, lord!

“Moooo!” The cow serpent nuzzled me and gave me the big brown eyes.

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s okay. Nice cow. Well . . . stay out of trouble.”

Which reminded me, I’d been underwater how long? An hour, at least. I had to get back to my cabin before Argus or the harpies discovered I was breaking curfew.

I shot to the surface and broke through. Immediately, Blackjack zoomed down and let me catch hold of his neck. He lifted me into the air and took me back toward the shore.

Success, boss?

“Yeah. We rescued a baby . . . something or other. Took forever. Almost got stampeded.”

Good deeds are always dangerous, boss. You saved my sorry mane, didn’t you?

I couldn’t help thinking about my dream, with Annabeth crumpled and lifeless in Luke’s arms. Here I was rescuing baby monsters, but I couldn’t save my friend.

As Blackjack flew back toward my cabin, I happened to glance at the dining pavilion. I saw a figure—a boy hunkered down behind a Greek column, like he was hiding from someone.

It was Nico, but it wasn’t even dawn yet. Nowhere near time for breakfast. What was he doing up there?

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was more time for Nico to tell me about his Mythomagic game. But something was wrong. I could tell by the way he was crouching.

“Blackjack,” I said, “set me down over there, will you? Behind that column.”

I almost blew it.

I was coming up the steps behind Nico. He didn’t see me at all. He was behind a column, peeking around the corner, all his attention focused on the dining area. I was five feet away from him, and I was about to say What are you doing? real loud, when it occurred to me that he was pulling a Grover: he was spying on the Hunters.

There were voices—two girls talking at one of the dining tables. At this ungodly hour of the morning? Well, unless you’re the goddess of dawn, I guess.

I took Annabeth’s magic cap out of my pocket and put it on.

I didn’t feel any different, but when I raised my arms I couldn’t see them. I was invisible.

I crept up to Nico and sneaked around him. I couldn’t see the girls very well in the dark, but I knew their voices: Zoë and Bianca. It sounded like they were arguing.

“It cannot be cured,” Zoë was saying. “Not quickly, at any rate.”

“But how did it happen?” Bianca asked.

“A foolish prank,” Zoë growled. “Those Stoll boys from the Hermes cabin. Centaur blood is like acid. Everyone knows that. They sprayed the inside of that Artemis Hunting Tour T-shirt with it.”

“That’s terrible!”

“She will live,” Zoë said. “But she’ll be bedridden for weeks with horrible hives. There is no way she can go. It’s up to me . . . and thee.”

“But the prophecy,” Bianca said. “If Phoebe can’t go, we only have four. We’ll have to pick another.”

“There is no time,” Zoë said. “We must leave at first light. That’s immediately. Besides, the prophecy said we would lose one.”

“In the land without rain,” Bianca said, “but that can’t be here.”

“It might be,” Zoë said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “The camp has magic borders. Nothing, not even weather, is allowed in without permission. It could be a land without rain.”

“But—”

“Bianca, hear me.” Zoë’s voice was strained. “I . . . I can’t explain, but I have a sense that we should not pick someone else. It would be too dangerous. They would meet an end worse than Phoebe’s. I don’t want Chiron choosing a camper as our fifth companion. And . . . I don’t want to risk another Hunter.”

Bianca was silent. “You should tell Thalia the rest of your dream.”

“No. It would not help.”

“But if your suspicions are correct, about the General—”

“I have thy word not to talk about that,” Zoë said. She sounded really anguished. “We will find out soon enough. Now come. Dawn is breaking.”

Nico scooted out of their way. He was faster than me.

As the girls sprinted down the steps, Zoë almost ran into me. She froze, her eyes narrowing. Her hand crept toward her bow, but then Bianca said, “The lights of the Big House are on. Hurry!”

And Zoë followed her out of the pavilion.

I could tell what Nico was thinking. He took a deep breath and was about to run after his sister when I took off the invisibility cap and said, “Wait.”

He almost slipped on the icy steps as he spun around to find me. “Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been here the whole time. Invisible.”

He mouthed the word invisible. “Wow. Cool.”

“How did you know Zoë and your sister were here?”

He blushed. “I heard them walk by the Hermes cabin. I don’t . . . I don’t sleep too well at camp. So I heard footsteps, and them whispering. And so I kind of followed.”

“And now you’re thinking about following them on the quest,” I guessed.

“How did you know that?”

“Because if it was my sister, I’d probably be thinking the same thing. But you can’t.”

He looked defiant. “Because I’m too young?”

“Because they won’t let you. They’ll catch you and send you back here. And . . . yeah, because you’re too young. You remember the manticore? There will be lots more like that. More dangerous. Some of the heroes will die.”

He shoulders sagged. He shifted from foot to foot. “Maybe you’re right. But, but you can go for me.”

“Say what?”

“You can turn invisible. You can go!”

“The Hunters don’t like boys,” I reminded him. “If they find out—”

“Don’t let them find out. Follow them invisibly. Keep an eye on my sister! You have to. Please?”

“Nico—”

“You’re planning to go anyway, aren’t you?”

I wanted to say no. But he looked me in the eyes, and I somehow couldn’t lie to him.

“Yeah,” I said. “I have to find Annabeth. I have to help, even if they don’t want me to.”

“I won’t tell on you,” he said. “But you have to promise to keep my sister safe.”

“I . . . that’s a big thing to promise, Nico, on a trip like this. Besides, she’s got Zoë, Grover, and Thalia—”

“Promise,” he insisted.

“I’ll do my best. I promise that.”

“Get going, then!” he said. “Good luck!”

It was crazy. I wasn’t packed. I had nothing but the cap and the sword and the clothes I was wearing. I was supposed to be going home to Manhattan this morning. “Tell Chiron—”

“I’ll make something up.” Nico smiled crookedly. “I’m good at that. Go on!”

I ran, putting on Annabeth’s cap. As the sun came up, I turned invisible. I hit the top of Half-Blood Hill in time to see the camp’s van disappearing down the farm road, probably Argus taking the quest group into the city. After that they would be on their own.

I felt a twinge of guilt, and stupidity, too. How was I supposed to keep up with them. Run?

Then I heard the beating of huge wings. Blackjack landed next to me. He began casually nuzzling a few tufts of grass that stuck through the ice.

If I was guessing, boss, I’d say you need a getaway horse. You interested?

A lump of gratitude stuck in my throat, but I managed to say, “Yeah. Let’s fly.”

NINE

I LEARN HOW TO GROW ZOMBIES

The thing about flying on a pegasus during the daytime is that if you’re not careful, you can cause a serious traffic accident on the Long Island Expressway. I had to keep Blackjack up in the clouds, which were, fortunately, pretty low in the winter. We darted around, trying to keep the white Camp Half-Blood van in sight. And if it was cold on the ground, it was seriously cold in the air, with icy rain stinging my skin.

I was wishing I’d brought some of that Camp Half-Blood orange thermal underwear they sold in the camp store, but after the story about Phoebe and the centaur-blood T-shirt, I wasn’t sure I trusted their products anymore.

We lost the van twice, but I had a pretty good sense that they would go into Manhattan first, so it wasn’t too difficult to pick up their trail again.

Traffic was bad with the holidays and all. It was mid morning before they got into the city. I landed Blackjack near the top of the Chrysler Building and watched the white camp van, thinking it would pull into the bus station, but it just kept driving.

“Where’s Argus taking them?” I muttered.

Oh, Argus ain’t driving, boss, Blackjack told me. That girl is.

“Which girl?”

The Hunter girl. With the silver crown thing in her hair.

“Zoë?”

That’s the one. Hey, look! There’s a donut shop. Can we get something to go?

I tried explaining to Blackjack that taking a flying horse to a donut shop would give every cop in there a heart attack, but he didn’t seem to get it. Meanwhile, the van kept snaking its way toward the Lincoln Tunnel. It had never even occurred to me that Zoë could drive. I mean, she didn’t look sixteen. Then again, she was immortal. I wondered if she had a New York license, and if so, what her birth date said.

“Well,” I said. “Let’s get after them.”

We were about to leap off the Chrysler Building when Blackjack whinnied in alarm and almost threw me. Something was curling around my leg like a snake. I reached for my sword, but when I looked down, there was no snake. Vines—grape vines—had sprouted from the cracks between the stones of the building. They were wrapping around Blackjack’s legs, lashing down my ankles so we couldn’t move.

“Going somewhere?” Mr. D asked.

He was leaning against the building with his feet levitating in the air, his leopard-skin warm-up suit and black hair whipping around in the wind.

God alert! Blackjack yelled. It’s the wine dude!

Mr. D sighed in exasperation. “The next person, or horse, who calls me the ‘wine dude’ will end up in a bottle of Merlot!”

“Mr. D.” I tried to keep my voice calm as the grape vines continued to wrap around my legs. “What do you want?”

“Oh, what do I want? You thought, perhaps, that the immortal, all-powerful director of camp would not notice you leaving without permission?”

“Well . . . maybe.”

“I should throw you off this building, minus the flying horse, and see how heroic you sound on the way down.”

I balled my fists. I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but Mr. D was about to kill me or haul me back to camp in shame, and I couldn’t stand either idea. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?”

Purple flames flickered in his eyes. “You’re a hero, boy. I need no other reason.”

“I have to go on this quest! I’ve got to help my friends. That’s something you wouldn’t understand!”

Um, boss, Blackjack said nervously. Seeing as how we’re wrapped in vines nine hundred feet in the air, you might want to talk nice.

The grape vines coiled tighter around me. Below us, the white van was getting farther and farther away. Soon it would be out of sight.

“Did I ever tell you about Ariadne?” Mr. D asked. “Beautiful young princess of Crete? She liked helping her friends, too. In fact, she helped a young hero named Theseus, also a son of Poseidon. She gave him a ball of magical yarn that let him find his way out of the Labyrinth.

And do you know how Theseus rewarded her?”

The answer I wanted to give was I don’t care! But I didn’t figure that would make Mr. D finish his story any faster.

“They got married,” I said. “Happily ever after. The end.”

Mr. D sneered. “Not quite. Theseus said he would marry her. He took her aboard his ship and sailed for Athens. Halfway back, on a little island called Naxos, he . . . What’s the word you mortals use today? . . . he dumped her. I found her there, you know. Alone. Heartbroken. Crying her eyes out. She had given up everything, left everything she knew behind, to help a dashing young hero who tossed her away like a broken sandal.”

“That’s wrong,” I said. “But that was thousands of years ago. What’s that got to do with me?”

Mr. D regarded me coldly. “I fell in love with Ariadne, boy. I healed her broken heart. And when she died, I made her my immortal wife in Olympus. She waits for me even now. I shall go back to her when I am done with this infernal century of punishment at your ridiculous camp.”

I stared at him. “You’re . . . you’re married? But I thought you got in trouble for chasing a wood nymph—”

“My point is you heroes never change. You accuse us gods of being vain. You should look at yourselves. You take what you want, use whoever you have to, and then you betray everyone around you. So you’ll excuse me if I have no love for heroes. They are a selfish, ungrateful lot. Ask Ariadne. Or Medea. For that matter, ask Zoë Nightshade.”

“What do you mean, ask Zoë?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Go. Follow your silly friends.”

The vines uncurled around my legs.

I blinked in disbelief. “You’re . . . you’re letting me go? Just like that?”

“The prophecy says at least two of you will die. Perhaps I’ll get lucky and you’ll be one of them. But mark my words, Son of Poseidon, live or die, you will prove no better than the other heroes.”

With that, Dionysus snapped his fingers. His image folded up like a paper display. There was a pop and he was gone, leaving a faint scent of grapes that was quickly blown away by the wind.

Too close, Blackjack said.

I nodded, though I almost would have been less worried if Mr. D had hauled me back to camp. The fact that he’d let me go meant he really believed we stood a fair chance of crashing and burning on this quest.

“Come on, Blackjack,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. “I’ll buy you some donuts in New Jersey.”

As it turned out, I didn’t buy Blackjack donuts in New Jersey. Zoë drove south like a crazy person, and we were into Maryland before she finally pulled over at a rest stop. Blackjack darn near tumbled out of the sky, he was so tired. I’ll be okay, boss, he panted. Just . . . just catching my breath.

“Stay here,” I told him. “I’m going to scout.”

‘Stay here’ I can handle. I can do that.

I put on my cap of invisibility and walked over to the convenience store. It was difficult not to sneak. I had to keep reminding myself that nobody could see me. It was hard, too, because I had to remember to get out of people’s way so they wouldn’t slam into me.

I thought I’d go inside and warm up, maybe get a cup of hot chocolate or something. I had a little change in my pocket. I could leave it on the counter. I was wondering if the cup would turn invisible when I picked it up, or if I’d have to deal with a floating hot chocolate problem, when my whole plan was ruined by Zoë, Thalia, Bianca, and Grover all coming out of the store.

“Grover, are you sure?” Thalia was saying.

“Well . . . pretty sure. Ninety-nine percent. Okay, eighty-five percent.”

“And you did this with acorns?” Bianca asked, like she couldn’t believe it.

Grover looked offended. “It’s a time-honored tracking spell. I mean, I’m pretty sure I did it right.”

“D.C. is about sixty miles from here,” Bianca said. “Nico and I . . .” She frowned. “We used to live there. That’s . . . that’s strange. I’d forgotten.”

“I dislike this,” Zoë said. “We should go straight west. The prophecy said west.”

“Oh, like your tracking skills are better?” Thalia growled.

Zoë stepped toward her. “You challenge my skills, you scullion? You know nothing of being a Hunter!”

“Oh, scullion? You’re calling me a scullion? What the heck is a scullion?”

“Whoa, you two,” Grover said nervously. “Come on. Not again!”

“Grover’s right,” Bianca said. “D.C. is our best bet.”

Zoë didn’t look convinced, but she nodded reluctantly. “Very well. Let us keep moving.”

“You’re going to get us arrested, driving,” Thalia grumbled. “I look closer to sixteen than you do.”

“Perhaps,” Zoë snapped. “But I have been driving since automobiles were invented. Let us go.”

As Blackjack and I continued south, following the van, I wondered whether Zoë had been kidding. I didn’t know exactly when cars were invented, but I figured that was like prehistoric times—back when people watched black-and-white TV and hunted dinosaurs.

How old was Zoë? And what had Mr. D been talking about? What bad experience had she had with heroes?

As we got closer to Washington, Blackjack started slowing down and dropping altitude. He was breathing heavily.

“You okay?” I asked him.

Fine, boss. I could . . . I could take on an army.

“You don’t sound so good.” And suddenly I felt guilty, because I’d been running the pegasus for half a day, nonstop, trying to keep up with highway traffic. Even for a flying horse, that had to be rough.

Don’t worry about me, boss! I’m a tough one.

I figured he was right, but I also figured Blackjack would run himself into the ground before he complained, and I didn’t want that.

Fortunately, the van started to slow down. It crossed the Potomac River into central Washington. I started thinking about air patrols and missiles and stuff like that. I didn’t know exactly how all those defenses worked, and wasn’t sure if pegasi even showed up on your typical military radar, but I didn’t want to find out by getting shot out of the sky.

“Set me down there,” I told Blackjack. “That’s close enough.”

Blackjack was so tired he didn’t complain. He dropped toward the Washington Monument and set me on the grass.

The van was only a few blocks away. Zoë had parked at the curb.

I looked at Blackjack. “I want you to go back to camp. Get some rest. Graze. I’ll be fine.”

Blackjack cocked his head skeptically. You sure, boss?

“You’ve done enough already,” I said. “I’ll be fine. And thanks a ton.”

A ton of hay, maybe, Blackjack mused. That sounds good. All right, but be careful, boss. I got a feeling they didn’t come here to meet anything friendly and handsome like me.

I promised to be careful. Then Blackjack took off, circling twice around the monument before disappearing into the clouds.

I looked over at the white van. Everybody was getting out. Grover pointed toward one of the big buildings lining the Mall. Thalia nodded, and the four of them trudged off into the cold wind.

I started to follow. But then I froze.

A block away, the door of a black sedan opened. A man with gray hair and a military buzz cut got out. He was wearing dark shades and a black overcoat. Now, maybe in Washington, you’d expected guys like that to be everywhere. But it dawned on me that I’d seen this same car a couple of times on the highway, going south. It had been following the van.

The guy took out his mobile phone and said something into it. Then he looked around, like he was making sure the coast was clear, and started walking down the Mall in the direction of my friends.

The worst of it was: when he turned toward me, I recognized his face. It was Dr. Thorn, the manticore from Westover Hall.

Invisibility cap on, I followed Thorn from a distance. My heart was pounding. If he had survived that fall from the cliff, then Annabeth must have too. My dreams had been right. She was alive and being held prisoner.

Thorn kept well back from my friends, careful not to be seen.

Finally, Grover stopped in front of a big building that said NATIONAL AIR AND SPACE MUSEUM. The Smithsonian! I’d been here a million years ago with my mom, but everything had looked so much bigger then.

Thalia checked the door. It was open, but there weren’t many people going in. Too cold, and school was out of session. They slipped inside.

Dr. Thorn hesitated. I wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t go into the museum. He turned and headed across the Mall. I made a split-second decision and followed him.

Thorn crossed the street and climbed the steps of the Museum of Natural History. There was a big sign on the door. At first I thought it said CLOSED FOR PIRATE EVENT. Then I realized PIRATE must be PRIVATE.

I followed Dr. Thorn inside, through a huge chamber full of mastodons and dinosaur skeletons. There were voices up ahead, coming from behind a set of closed doors. Two guards stood outside. They opened the doors for Thorn, and I had to sprint to get inside before they closed them again.

Inside, what I saw was so terrible I almost gasped out loud, which probably would’ve gotten me killed.

I was in a huge round room with a balcony ringing the second level. At least a dozen mortal guards stood on the balcony, plus two monsters—reptilian women with double-snake trunks instead of legs. I’d seen them before. Annabeth had called them Scythian dracaenae.

But that wasn’t the worse of it. Standing between the snake women—I could swear he was looking straight down at me—was my old enemy Luke. He looked terrible. His skin was pale and his blond hair looked almost gray, as if he’d aged ten years in just a few months. The angry light in his eyes was still there, and so was the scar down the side of his face, where a dragon had once scratched him. But the scar was now ugly red, as though it had recently been reopened.

Next to him, sitting down so that the shadows covered him, was another man. All I could see were his knuckles on the gilded arms of his chair, like a throne.

“Well?” asked the man in the chair. His voice was just like the one I’d heard in my dream—not as creepy as Kronos’s, but deeper and stronger, like the earth itself was talking. It filled the whole room even though he wasn’t yelling.

Dr. Thorn took off his shades. His two-colored eyes, brown and blue, glittered with excitement. He made a stiff bow, then spoke in his weird French accent: “They are here, General.”

“I know that, you fool,” boomed the man. “But where?”

“In the rocket museum.”

“The Air and Space Museum,” Luke corrected irritably.

Dr. Thorn glared at Luke. “As you say, sir.”

I got the feeling Thorn would just as soon impale Luke with one of his spikes as call him sir.

“How many?” Luke asked.

Thorn pretended not to hear.

“How many?” the General demanded.

“Four, General,” Thorn said. “The satyr, Grover Underwood. And the girl with the spiky black hair and the—how do you say—punk clothes and the horrible shield.”

“Thalia,” Luke said.

“And two other girls—Hunters. One wears a silver circlet.”

“That one I know,” the General growled.

Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably.

“Let me take them,” Luke said to the General. “We have more than enough—”

“Patience,” the General said. “They’ll have their hands full already. I’ve sent a little playmate to keep them occupied.”

“But—”

“We cannot risk you, my boy.”

“Yes, boy,” Dr. Thorn said with a cruel smile. “You are much too fragile to risk. Let me finish them off.”

“No.” The General rose from his chair, and I got my first look at him.

He was tall and muscular, with light brown skin and slicked-back dark hair. He wore an expensive brown silk suit like the guys on Wall Street wear, but you’d never mistake this dude for a broker. He had a brutal face, huge shoulders, and hands that could snap a flagpole in half. His eyes were like stone. I felt as if I were looking at a living statue. It was amazing he could even move.

“You have already failed me, Thorn,” he said.

“But, General—”

“No excuses!”

Thorn flinched. I’d thought Thorn was scary when I first saw him in his black uniform at the military academy. But now, standing before the General, Thorn looked like a silly wannabe soldier. The General was the real deal. He didn’t need a uniform. He was a born commander.

“I should throw you into the pits of Tartarus for your incompetence,” the General said. “I send you to capture a child of the three elder gods, and you bring me a scrawny daughter of Athena.”

“But you promised me revenge!” Thorn protested. “A command of my own!”

“I am Lord Kronos’s senior commander,” the General said. “And I will choose lieutenants who get me results! It was only thanks to Luke that we salvaged our plan at all. Now get out of my sight, Thorn, until I find some other menial task for you.”

Thorn’s face turned purple with rage. I thought he was going to start frothing at the mouth or shooting spines, but he just bowed awkwardly and left the room.