"That pine-tree bead," I said. "Is that from your first year?" She looked. She hadn't realized what she was doing.
"Yeah," she said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress—now that was a weird summer...."
"And the college ring is your father's?"
"That's none of your—" She stopped herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."
"You don't have to tell me."
"No ... it's okay." She took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten through his doctoral program at Harvard without her.... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood."
"You think you'll ever try living with your dad again?"
She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain."
"You shouldn't give up," I told her. "You should write him a letter or something."
"Thanks for the advice," she said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with."
We passed another few miles of silence.
"So if the gods fight," I said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?"
She put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you."
"Why?"
"Because you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?" I couldn't think of an answer for that. Fortunately I didn't have to. Annabeth was asleep. I had trouble following her example, with Grover snoring and an albino lion staring hungrily at me, but eventually I closed my eyes.
*
My nightmare started out as something I'd dreamed a million times before: I was being forced to take a standardized test while wearing a straitjacket. All the other kids were going out to recess, and the teacher kept saying, Come on, Percy. You're not stupid, are you? Pick up your pencil. Then the dream strayed from the usual.
I looked over at the next desk and saw a girl sitting there, also wearing a straitjacket. She was my age, with unruly black, punk-style hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy green eyes, and freckles across her nose. Somehow, I knew who she was. She was Thalia, daughter of Zeus. She struggled against the straitjacket, glared at me in frustration, and snapped, Well, Seaweed Brain? One of us has to get out of here.
She's right, my dream-self thought. I'm going back to that cavern. I'm going to give Hades a piece of my mind.
The straitjacket melted off me. I fell through the classroom floor. The teacher's voice changed until it was cold and evil, echoing from the depths of a great chasm. Percy Jackson, it said. Yes, the exchange went well, 1 see. I was back in the dark cavern, spirits of the dead drifting around me. Unseen in the pit, the monstrous thing was speaking, but this time it wasn't addressing me. The numbing power of its voice seemed directed somewhere else.
And he suspects nothing? it asked.
Another voice, one I almost recognized, answered at my shoulder. Nothing, my lord. He is as ignorant as the rest.
I looked over, but no one was there. The speaker was invisible.
Deception upon deception, the thing in the pit mused aloud. Excellent. Truly, my lord, said the voice next to me, you are well-named the Crooked One. But was it really necessary? I could have brought you what I stole directly —
You? the monster said in scorn. You have already shown your limits. You would have failed me completely had I not intervened.
But, my lord—
Peace, little servant. Our six months have bought us much. Zeus's anger has grown. Poseidon has played his most desperate card. Now we shall use it against him. Shortly you shall have the reward you wish, and your revenge. As soon as both items are delivered into my hands ... but wait. He is here.
What? The invisible servant suddenly sounded tense. You summoned him, my lord?
No. The full force of the monsters attention was now pouring over me, freezing me in place. Blast his father's blood— he is too changeable, too unpredictable. The boy brought himself hither. Impossible! the servant cried.