Until she met the manticore, Libby was having a pretty good day.

She'd parked her car at a lot in downtown Langley Falls and waited at the corner to cross the street. The store, Landon's, was only a block away, but she wasn't in a hurry. If she wanted to by her parents the perfect anniversary gift, she'd have to buy her time to make sure she didn't choose the gift in haste. Her parents could be rather picky.

At sixteen, Libby was a little tall for someone her age but lithe, built like a long-distance runner. Her blond was short and choppy, so she looked like a tomboy, but it made her all the more beautiful. She had a heart-shaped face and blue eyes were as a bright as a swimming pool on a hot summer's day. She wore a black hoodie over a purple-and-black striped top, dark-blue skinny jeans, navy Converse sneakers, and beanie over her head.

Her phone rang as she crossed the street. The caller ID read "GREG" and she panicked for about a second before calming down and answered.

"Hi, Dad,"

"Hi, sweetie," he said, his voice high-pitched, almost feminine. "Can you do me a favor and pick up some dog food on your way home."

"Sure," she said.

"You're driving while talking on the phone are you?"

Libby sighed. Her parents could be a little overprotective with her at times, but she knew they couldn't help it. One of her earliest memories was her parents calling her "a precious gift from Heaven." There were other early memories she could recall, not something she'd like to talk about a lot.

"No," she assured him, "Alisha's driving." Alisha, her best friend, was, in fact, on a date at that moment, but she agreed to say she was with Libby in case one of her parents would call her.

"Make sure you two stay close," he warned.

"No problem,"

He paused, and then said, whole-heartily, "Have fun, kid."

"Always do," she said and hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been meaning to buy a present for the past week but her homework and other responsibilities—cheerleading practice, hanging out with her friends took up most of her time—have kept her from doing this.

Libby loved her parents. They were always fun, full of energy, and funny. She wanted to buy them something showed her appreciation for raising her right and always been there for her when she needed them.

She wished others could see her parents the way she and her friends do. Libby learned at a young age that when it came to have parents like hers it came to the heavy price of enduring persecution from the cruelest of people—and they're much worse than bullies.

Landon's was only a couple storefronts down the way when the bay window of the café in front of her exploded and monster came flying out and crashing into the street.

Libby lunged back from the café window, her heart racing. People inside were screaming, tables and chairs falling over as they scrambled into the back to hide from the monster.

Wait, Libby though. Monster? That's not possible. There's no such thing.

Libby didn't want to believe it, but there really was a monster in the street, recovering from being thrown out the window.

It had the body of a lion, but its skin was blood-red, like it'd took a bath in a tub of red paint, a mane of sandy fur that covered most of its upper body, a long tail that was round at the end like a basketball and long spikes growing out of it, and the head of a square-jawed man with two different eye colors—one brown, one blue. She looked closer and saw a thick mark around its neck as though it had been strangled.

Libby first impulse was to run away, but there was something holding her back, some voice deep in her mind telling her to stay and watch the events unfold.

The beast recovered and looked over and saw it was in the path of a car, but it swatted it away like it was fly and vehicle was sent swirling to the curb.

Its nostrils flared and it locked its eyes on Libby. "Oh," he said. "You have pure blood in your veins. I wonder how she tastes."

"Don't even think about it, Thorn!" someone shouted.

Libby and Thorn—which she guessed he got the name from the spikes growing out of his tail—turned to the shattered window sill where a girl with blond hair stood with a knife in her hand.

The monster, Throne, growled at the girl and bounded toward her. She took a step back and raised her knife, ready to defend herself.

Libby lunged for Thorn, and it took her second afterwards before she realized what she was doing, and she tried to pull back, but she knew it was too late when the bottom of her shoe collided with the side of Thorn's face.

The girl on the window was just as surprised as she was. They looked at each other like: What just happened?

"Who the Hades are you!?" the girl demanded. Her gray eyes we're as fierce as thunderclouds.

"What?" Libby asked. She didn't know much about Greek mythology. There was a class at school studied the subject, but the closest experience she had with it was that old Disney movie.

The girl glanced at the monster, then at Libby. "You can see the manticore?"

"Of course," she said, "who can't? What's a manticore?"

A woman comes around the corner and shouts, "Rhino!" and ran off.

"Rhino?" Libby asked.

"Look out!" shouted the girl, and from the corner of her eye Libby saw the manticore charging her. She lunged back, his razor teeth missing her completely, and the girl drove her knife into the lion-man's side. He howled in pain, cursing under his breath in a language Libby couldn't understand. Then it spoke English.

"You cannot hide from me forever Annabeth Chase," he said. "I captured you once and I can do it again. My patron is rising from the earth. She will have her revenge and I'm to make sure you and that boyfriend of yours are there when she awakens."

Libby had no idea what he was talking about, but I didn't sound good. The girl, Annabeth, grunted, driving her knife further along the manticore's body like she was carving a turkey.

"That'll be the day," she said and gave her knife one final push, twisted it, and Libby watched as the manticore explode in a cloud of gold dust.

Annabeth cleaned her knife on her jeans and slipped it into a sheath inside her jacket. She was wearing an orange T-shirt that read something. Most of the letters were blocked by her jacket, but she could a logo that was clearly a winged horse above the letters.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi yourself," Libby replied. She wanted to run from this girl, but there was something about her that was inviting, and even after seeing her gut a monster the likes of the manticore, she seemed friendly.

"What cabin are you from?"

"I don't live in a cabin,"

"Are you a demigod?" Annabeth asked.

"I have no idea what that is," Libby said.

"But you saw through the Mist, apart from a few mortals, only demigods can see monsters for what they really are."

"Like that woman?" Libby asked. "She cried rhino and ran off."

"Exactly," Annabeth nodded. "The Mist is the work of the gods. Think of it like a magical shield that hides the true appearance of monsters and demons from mortals."

"Go back," Libby demanded. "What gods? And what's up with that?"

She pointed to the pile of dust. It was moving, falling back into place, reforming the Thorn the manticore.

"Is that supposed to happen?" she asked.

"No," Annabeth said grimly.

"I think we should get out of here?" Libby said.

"Don't worry," Annabeth said. "I have a ride." She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled so loud Libby had to cover her ears.

From the shadows of the alley between the café and the bookstore next to it, a beast the size of a tank came bounding towards them. Its body was coated in messy black fur, and when it saw Annabeth it licked her faced and panted—then it saw Libby and growled at her.

"Mrs. O'Leary, heal," Annabeth commanded and the beast listed to her.

"This is so cool!" Libby said. "Its name is Mrs. O'Leary?"

"I didn't name her,"

Libby shrugged. "Hey, I have a dog named Heath Ledger."

Annabeth laughed and Mrs. O'Leary lowered her body, allowing her to climb on her back. "You wanna ride?" she asked.

"Are you serious?"

"I know what you saw was weird," Annabeth said. "And I can explain everything to you, but not here. In a few minute the manticore will reform, and I want to be far away when that happens. And he smelled your blood, too, which means he'll be coming after you if he fails in finding me."

Libby took a step towards Mrs. O'Leary but stopped. All she had to do was go to Landon's a buy a gift for her parents. Now she was about ride a giant dog with a girl she didn't to know to a place god-knows-where.

She thought about her parents. They'd be worried sick if Libby didn't make it home. They went crazy the last time she was taken from them, but this was different, she thought. She wasn't a baby anymore, she was a grown women, mature enough to make her own choices, besides, this girl, Annabeth, seemed nice, the kind of person you can trust even riding a hellhound like a horse. Plus, she could call her parents and explain everything.

Libby climbed on Mrs. O'Leary's back and the beast padded down the alley, into the shadows.

Darkness seemed to swallow them. Before everything went black, Annabeth asked, "By the way, what's your name. I forgot to ask."

"Libby,"

"Nice to meet you,"

"Likewise, so where are we going?"

"A place on the edge of the Long Island Sound, called Camp Half-Blood."

And with that they descended into darkness.