A/N (I recommend reading this): I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES or AND THE KANE CHRONICLES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

This is a The Tales of version of the Percy Jackson and Kane Chronicles crossover and takes place after 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus part of the series. So if you haven't read them yet read before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned:

The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Early Adventures
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Sea of Monsters
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Titan's Curse
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Magical Labyrinth
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Stolen Chariot
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Sword of Hades
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Bronze Dragon
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Last Olympian
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Staff of Hermes
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Son of Neptune
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Mark of Athena
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The House of Hades
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Blood of Olympus

Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed as long as you inform me about it.

The Tales of Magicians and Demigods: The Son of Sobek

…Carter Kane's POV…

Getting eaten by a giant crocodile was bad enough.

A kid with a glowing sword and a thermos that fires a jet of water only made my day worse.

Maybe I should introduce myself.

My name is Carter Kane—part-time high school freshman, part-time magician, full-time worrier about all the Egyptian gods and monsters who are constantly trying to kill me.

Okay, that last part is an exaggeration. Not all the gods want me dead. Just a lot of them—but that kind of goes with the territory, since I'm a magician in the House of Life. We're like the police for Ancient Egyptian supernatural forces, making sure they don't cause too much havoc in the modern world.

Anyway, on this particular day I was tracking down a rogue monster on Long Island. Our scryers had been sensing magical disturbances in the area for several weeks. Then the local news started reporting that a large creature had been sighted in the ponds and marshes near Montauk Highway—a creature that was eating the wildlife and scaring the locals. One of the reporters even called it the Long Island Swamp Monster. When mortals start raising the alarm, you know it's time to check things out.

Normally my sister, Sadie, or some of our other initiates from Brooklyn House would've come with me. But they were all at the First Nome in Egypt, for a weeklong training session on controlling cheese demons (yes, they're a real thing; believe me, you don't want to know), so I was on my own.

I hitched our flying reed boat to Freak, my pet griffin, and we spent the morning buzzing around the South Shore looking for signs of trouble. If you're wondering why I didn't just ride on Freak's back, imagine two hummingbird-like wings beating faster and more powerful than a helicopter's blades. Unless you want to get shredded, it's a really better to ride in the boat.

Freak has a good nose for magic. After a couple hours on patrol, he shrieked, "FREEEAAAK!" and banked hard to the left, circling over a green marshy inlet between two subdivisions.

"Down there?" I asked.

Freak shivered and squawked, whipping his barbed tail nervously.

I couldn't see much bellow us—just a brown river glittering in the hot summer air, winding through swamp and grass and clumps of gnarled trees until it emptied into Moriches Bay. The area looked a bit like the Nile Delta back in Egypt, except here the wetlands were surrounded on both sides by residential neighborhoods with row after row of gray-roofed houses. Just to the north, a line of cars inched along the Montauk Highway—vacationers escaping the crowds in the Hamptons.

If there really was a carnivorous swamp monster below us, I wonder how long it would be before it developed a taste for humans. If that happened… well, it was surrounded by an all-you-can-eat buffet.

"Okay," I told Freak. "Set me down by the riverbank."

…

As soon as I steped out of the boat, Freak screeched and zoomed into the sky, the boat trailing behind him.

"Hey!" I yelled after him, but it was too late.

Freak is easily spooked. Flesh-eating monsters tend to scare him away. So do fireworks, clowns, and the smell of Sadie's weird Brittish Ribena drink that she loves after spending years growing up in London after our mother died.

I guess I'll just have to take care of this monster problem, and then whistle for Freak to pick me up once I was done.

I opened my backpack and checked my supplies: some enchanted rope, my curved ivory wand, a lump of wax for making a magical shabti figurine, my calligraphy set, and a healing potion my friend Jaz had brewed for me a while back since I often got hurt on missions.

There was just one more thing I needed.

I concentrated and reached into the Duat. Over the last few months, I'd gotten better at storing emergency provisions in the shadow realm—extra weapons, clean Egyptian-cotton-made clothes, Fruit by the Foot, and chilled six-packs of root beer—but sticking my hand into a magical dimension still felt weird, like pushing through layers of cold, heavy curtains. I closed my fingers around the hilt of my sword and pulled it out—a heavy khopesh with a blade curved like a question mark. Armed with my sword and wand, I was all set for a stroll through the swamp to look for a hungry monster. Oh, joy!

I waded into the water and immediately sank to my knees. The river bottom felt like congealed stew. With every step, my shoes made such rude noises—suck-plop, suck-plop—that I was glad my sister Sadie wasn't with me, otherwise she be laughing at me right about now.

Even worse, making this much noise, I knew I wouldn't be able to sneak up on any monsters.

Mosquitoes swarmed me. Suddenly I felt nervous and alone.

Could be worse, I told myself. I could be studying cheese demons.

But I couldn't quite convince myself. In the nearby subdivision, I heard kids shouting and laughing, probably playing some kind of game. I wondered what that would be like—being a normal kid, hanging out with my friends on a summer afternoon.

The idea was so nice, I got distracted. I didn't notice the ripples in the water until fifty yards ahead of me something broke the surface—a line of leathery, blackish-green bumps. Instantly it submerged again, but I knew what I was dealing with now. I'd seen crocodiles before, and this was a freakishly big one.

I remember El Paso, the winter before last, when my sister and I had been attacked by the crocodile god Sobek. That wasn't a good memory.

Sweat trickled down my neck.

"Sobek," I murmured, "if that's you, messing with me again, I swear to Ra…"

The croc god had promised to leave us alone now that we were tight with his boss, the sun god. Still… crocodiles get hungry. Then they tend to forget their promises.

No answer from the water. The ripples subsided.

When it came to sensing monsters, my magic instincts weren't very sharp; but the water in front of me seemed much darker. That meant either it was deep, or something large was lurking under the surface.

I almost hoped it was Sobek. At least then I stood a chance of talking to him before he killed me. Sobek loved to boast.

Unfortunately, it wasn't him.

The next microsecond, as the water erupted around me, I realized it was too late that should've brought the entire Twenty-first Nome to help me. I registered glowing yellow eyes as big as my head, the glint of gold jewelry around a massive neck. Then monstrous jaws opened—ridges of crooked teeth and an expanse of pink maw wide enough to gulp down a garbage truck.

And the creature swallowed me whole.

…

Imagine being shrink-wrapped upside down inside a gigantic slimy garbage bag with no air. Being in the monster's belly was like that, only hotter and smellier.

For a moment I was too stunned to do anything. I couldn't believe I was still alive. If the crocodile's mouth had been smaller, he might have snapped me in half. As it was, he had gulped me down in a single Carter-size serving, so I could look forward to being slowly digested.

Lucky, right?

The monster started thrashing around, which made it hard to think. I held my breath, knowing that it might be my last. I still had my sword and wand, but I couldn't use them with my arms pinned to my side. I couldn't reach any of the stuff in my bag.

Which left only one answer: a word of power. If I could think of the right hieroglyphic symbol and speak it aloud, I could summon some industrial strength, wrath-of-the-gods-type of magic to bust my way out of this reptile.

In theory: a great solution.

Only problem was that I'm not so good at words of power even in the best of situations. And suffocating inside a dark, smelly reptile gullet wasn't helping me focus.

But I had to. At least for Sadie's sake. Besides our uncle, Amos and my grandparents in England, we are what is left of our family. Mom sacrificed herself at Cleopatra's needle to help the Cat goddess Bast, and our dad sacrificed himself to bring Osirus and a bunch of his siblings into our world. If I were to die, Sadie won't let it go.

My lungs burned. I was blacking out. I picked a word of power, summoned all my concentration, and prepared to speak.

Then, out of nowhere, the monster was hit by some kind of force that send it spinning with me in it's gullet for the ride. Then when I thought it was over, the monster lurched upward. He roared, which sounded really weird from inside, and its throat contracted around me like I was being squeezed from a toothpaste tube. I shot out of the creature's mouth and tumbled into the marsh grass.

Somehow I got to my feet. I staggered around, half blind, gasping and covered with crocodile goo, which smelled like a scummy fish tank.

The surface of the river churned with bubbles. The crocodile was gone, but standing on top of the marsh, and I really mean standing on top of it as if the water was completely solid, about twenty feet away was a teenage guy in jeans, a faded orange t-shirt that said CAMP something. I couldn't read the rest. He looked a little older than me—maybe seventeen—with tousled black hair and sea-green eyes with an athletic body of a swimmer and skater. Around his neck looked like a leathery beaded necklace with ten different color beads, and on the right side of his shirt near the shoulder was a name plate, and strapped to his belt was a bronze thermos. But what really got my attention was his sword—a straight double-edged blade glowing with faint bronze light.

I'm not sure which of us was more surprised.

For a second, Camper Boy just stared at me. He seemed to recognize my khopesh and want—I mean really recognized it, as if he seen something like them before—which was rather strange. Normal mortals have trouble seeing magic. Their brains can't interpret it, so they might look at my sword, for instance, and see a baseball bat or a walking stick.

But this kid… he was different. I figured he must be a magician. The only problem was, I'd met most of the magicians in the North American nomes, and I never seen this guy before. Not to mention when the guy shifted his sword arm, I had a quick glimpse of what looked like a tattoo. Not to mention I'd also never seen a sword like his. Everything about him seemed… un-Egyptian.

"The crocodile," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and even. "Where did it go?"

The boy frowned. "It ran off that way after vomiting you up when I struck it in the rump." The boy pointed his sword toward the south. "Why were you in the Croc's stomach?"

I'm not exactly in the mood to talk about it. It was a bit embarrassing on my behalf to say: the mighty Carter Kane, head of Brooklyn House, had been disgorged from a croc's mouth like a hairball after being swallowed whole.

"I was swallowed," I snapped, "Why else would I be in there?"

"Hard to tell. You be surprise what monsters would eat without thinking about it," the guy replied. "Heck, if it wasn't for that croc eating one of our Pegasi, I would be spending my last days at camp with my girlfriend instead of out here chasing the thing."

A jolt went up my spine like I'd back into an electric fence. "Did you say pegasi?"

The boy waved the question aside. "By the way, why are you carrying one of King Tut's props."

"These aren't props," I growled. "These are actually my sword and wand. I was using them to fight that monster."

They guy raised his hands, "Sorry. I just thought they were props like the ones Otis used with his King Tut Costume."

I still don't get this guy. If he was a Magician, he should of know what I was carrying. And who the heck was Otis?

"So what are you anyway?" the guy asked. "Are you a half-blood or a clear sighted mortal who happens to own an Egyptian sword?"

I wasn't able to answer at first. The Camper boy just called me a half-blood. Which I don't take well. My dad was African American and my mom was white. So being called a Half-Blood felt like an insult.

"Just get out of here," I said, gritting my teeth. "I've got a crocodile to catch."

"Dude, no offense, but if you were swallowed by that thing, I doubt you can fight it alone," the guy said.

My fingers tightened around my sword hilt. "I had everything under control. I was about to summon a fist—"

For what happened next, I take full responsibility.

I didn't mean it. Honestly. But this guy was making me angry. And as mention before, I'm not always good at channeling words of power. While I was in the crocodile's belly, I'd been preparing to summon the Fist of Horus, a giant glowing blue hand that can pulverize doors, walls, and pretty much anything else that gets in your way. My plan had been to punch my way out of the monster. Gross, yes; but hopefully effective.

I guess the spell was still in my head, ready to be triggered like a loaded gun. Facing Camper Boy, I was furious, not to mention dazed and confused; so when I meant to say the English word fist, it came out in Ancient Egyptian instead: khefa.

When I did a hieroglyph of a giant fist the size of dish washer blazed in the air between us and slammed into the Camper boy. He rocketed from where he was standing on the river and disappeared from sight.

"Oh, great." I hit myself on the forehead. Magicians weren't supposed to go sucker-punching kids with the Fist of Horus.

I started to wade across the marsh, worried that I'd actually killed the guy. "Man, I'm sorry!" I yelled, hoping he could hear me. "Are you—?"

The wave came out of nowhere as a twenty foot wall of water slammed into me and pushed me back into the river. I came up spluttering, a horrible taste like fish food in my mouth. I blinked the gunk out of my eyes just in time to see the Camper Boy leaping toward me ninja-style, his sword raised and shield in his other arm.

When did he summoned a shield?

I lifted my khopesh to deflect the blow. I just manage to keep my head from being cleaved in half, but the Camper Boy was strong and quick. As I reeled backward, he struck again and again. Each time, I was able to parry; but I could tell I was outmatched. His blade was lighter and quicker, and—yes, I'll admit it—he was a better swordsman. It was as if this guy had years of experience in fighting with that sword. And even if I could get a move in, he blocked with his shield—which was also made out of bronze and had images on it.

I wanted to explain that I'd made a mistake. I wasn't really his enemy. But I need all my concentration just to keep from getting sliced down the middle.

I swung again, and I have no choice. I used my wand this time, catching his blade in the crook of the ivory and channeling a burst of magic straight up my arm. The air between us flashed and crackled. Camper boy stumbled back. Blue sparks of sorcery popped around him, as if my spell didn't know quite what to do with him. Who was this guy?

"Just what are you?" Percy asked. "That fist attack and that move just now—I never read or seen anything like that. No demigod could do that. What are you?"

I tried to process what he just said. Demigod. I heard that somewhere before. But it wasn't an Egyptian concept.

"What are you?" I asked. "Part combat magician, part water elementalist? What nome are you with?"

The kid looked confused. "Dude, I'm a demigod—a half-blood child of a mortal and the sea god Poseidon. I have no clue what you're talking about. As for that Magician thing, the only magic I know is how to manipulate the Mist."

His words bounced around my head. He just said he was a child of Poseidon. But Poseidon was a Greek god, not Egyptian.

I felt like Duat was opening underneath me, threatening to pull me into the depths. Greek… not Egyptian.

An idea started forming in my mind. I didn't like it.

"Look," I said. "I'm sorry about hitting you with that first spell. It was an accident. But the thing I don't understand… it should have killed you. It didn't. That doesn't make sense."

The boy chuckled at that. "I got the thanks of the fact we're in a marsh and I have the Achilles Curse to thank for that," he said. "Hey, since you seem to know about that Crocodile, maybe you can answer me this. What kind of monster is it? I fought hundreds of monsters in the past, but I only encounter a few that are can't be harm celestial bronze, but none of them are close to what that thing was. Heck, the water blast from my thermos should of done something to it, but all it did was angered it."

"Celestial bronze? Water Blast?"

Our conversation was cut short by a scream from the nearby subdivision—the terrified voice of a kid.

My heart did a slow roll. I really was an idiot. I'd forgotten why we were here.

I locked eyes with the Camper Boy. "We've got to stop the crocodile."

"Truce," he suggested.

"Yeah," I said. "Afterwards we can answer each other's questions."

"Deal."

…

I don't know how the boy did it, but he manage to use the water to push us upward until we were standing ontop of it.

"It be quicker doing this than trying to walk through the marsh," the boy explained as we headed off toward the cries.

"Thanks," I said. "What's your name?"

"Percy Jackson," Percy said. "What about you?"

"Carter Kane," I replied. "SO when you called me half-blood back there, you meant demigod, right?"

Percy nodded. "Normally I don't go swinging names around since it can be dangerous, but I had to admit, seeing you there with a wand and an Egyptian Sword reminded me of an enemy I had to fight once."

I understood. Names held power and it can be dangerous throwing them around. A while back, my sister Sadie had learned my ren, my secret name, and it still caused me all sorts of anxiety. Even with someone's common name, a skilled Magician could work all kinds of mischief.

"Is your name british or something?" I asked.

"No—well, I guess—Percy is actually short for Perseus," Percy explained.

"Oh…"

We jumped a rotten log and final made it out of the marsh. We'd started climbing a grass slope toward the nearest houses when I realized more than one voice was screaming up there now. Not a good sign.

"Just to warn you," I told Percy, "you can't kill the monster."

"If you mean with a sword, I kind of figured that when my blade didn't vaporized it," Percy said. "But every monster has a weakness. I once encountered some Leucrotae that could only be killed by Greek Fire."

"Leucrotae?"

"A very long story."

I can understand that. My life seemed to be filled with nothing but long stories.

"That's not what I mean though," I said. "This monster is a petsuchos—a son of Sobek."

"Who's Sobek?" he asked.

"The lord of crocodiles. Egyptian god."

Percy stopped in his tracks and stared at me. "Egyptian god? They're real too?"

"They're real, and what do you mean by too?"

Percy seemed to be unable to respond. He looked up in the sky as if asking it, really.

After a second he turned toward me and looked at my sword and wand. "Where are you from?"

"Originally?" I asked. "Los Angeles. Then you could say wherever my dad's job takes me. But these days I live in Brooklyn."

That didn't seem to make Percy feel better, so he asked something else. "You use to travel?" Percy asked.

"Yeah, after my mom died up until my dad died."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"Don't worry about it."

"If it makes you feel better, I have some friends who gone through what you went through, just with their mortal parent."

"Thanks—I think."

"So this monster—what was it called again?"

"Petsuchos. It's a Greek word, but the monster is Egyptian. It was like the mascot of Sobek's temple, worshiped as a living god."

"Oh, so when you said we couldn't kill it, you mean if we do we would anger Sobek, right?"

"No, but it probably would," I said. "But the real reason is, if we could destroy his body, he would reappear somewhere nearby."

"Great."

"By the way, when you said earlier you had the Achilles Curse, do you mean—"

"I took a swim in the River Styx and because of it I'm invulnerable," Percy said. "But I won't be for long. When I start college I planned to be rid of it."

"Why? How?"

"Let's just say there is a reason it's called the Achilles curse. As for How, let's just say I know of a river that can wash the curse away," Percy explained.

From above came another scream, followed by a loud CRUNCH, like the sound made by a metal compactor.

We sprinted to the top of the hill, then hopped the fence of somebody's backyard and ran into a residential cul-de-sac.

Except for the giant crocodile in the middle of the street, the neighborhood could have been Anywhere, USA. Ringing the cul-de-sac were half a dozen single-story homes with well-kept front lawns, economy cars in the driveway, mailboxes at the curb, flags hanging above the front porches.

Unfortunately, the all-American scene was kind of ruined by the monster, who was busily eating a green Prius hatchback with a bumper sticker that read MY POODLE IS SMARTER THAN YOUR HONOR STUDENT. Maybe the petsuchos thought the Toyota was another crocodile, and maybe he was asserting his dominance. Maybe he just didn't like poodles and/or honor students.

Whatever the case, on dry land the crocodile looked even scarier than he had in the water. He was about forty feet long, as tall as a delivery truck, with a tail so massive and powerful, it overturned cars every time it swished. His skin glistened blackish green and gush water that pooled around his feet. I remember Sobek once telling me that his divine sweat created the rivers of the world. Yuck. I guessed this monster had the same holy perspiration. Double yuck.

The creature's eyes glowed with sickly yellow light. His jagged teeth gleamed white. But the weirdest thing about him was his bling. Around his neck hung a elaborate collar of gold chains and enough precious stones to buy a private island.

The necklace was how I had realized that the monster was a petsuchos, back at the marsh. I'd rea d that the sacred animal of Sobek wore something just like it back in Egypt, though what the monster was dong in Long Island subdivision, I had no idea.

As Percy and I took in the scene, the crocodile clamped down and bit the green Prius in half, spraying glass and metal and pieces of air bag across the lawns.

As soon as he dropped the wreckage, half a dozen kids appeared from nowhere—apparently they'd been hiding behind some of the other cars—and charged the monster, screaming at the top of their lungs.

I couldn't believe it. They were just elementary-age kids, armed with nothing but water balloons and Super Soakers. I guessed that they were on summer break and had been cooling off with a water fight when the monster interrupted them.

There was no adults in sight. Maybe they were all at work. Maybe they were inside, passed out from fright.

The kids looked angry rather than scared. They ran around the crocodile, lobbing water balloons that splashed harmlessly against the monster's hide.

Useless and stupid? Yes. But I couldn't help admiring their bravery. They were trying their best to face down a monster that invaded their neighborhood.

Maybe they saw the crocodile for what it was. Maybe their mortal brains made them think it was an escaped elephant from the zoo, or a crazed FedEx delivery driver with a death wish.

Whatever they saw, they were in danger.

My throat closed up. I thought about my initiates back in Brooklyn House, who were no older than these kids, and m protective "big brother" instincts kicked in. I charged into the street, yelling, "Get away from it! Run!"

Then I threw my wand straight at the crocodile's head. "Sa-mir!"

The wand hit the croc on the snout, and a blue light rippled across his body. All over the monster's hide, the hieroglyph for pain flickered.

Everywhere it appeared, the croc's skin smoked and sparked, causing the monster to writhe and bellow in annoyance.

The kids scattered, hiding behind ruined cars and mailboxes. The petsuchos turned his glowing yellow eyes on me.

"So if we can't kill him, what now?" Percy asked.

"That necklace," I said pointing to the chain collar. "It's enchanted with the power of Sobek. To beat the monster, we have to get that necklace off. Then the petsuchos should shrink back into a regular crocodile."

"I hate the word should," Percy muttered "Okay. How about we split up and try to divert the croc's attention and whoever the croc doesn't turned to is the one who get the necklace off while the other try not to get eaten."

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed. "What about the kids?"

"Leave them to me," Percy said.

"ROARRR!" the monster bellowed.

Percy and I broke up to cover the croc from both ends. Unfortunately, the petsuchos charged toward me.

I dodge him as best as I could.

Suddenly a breeze of for some reason salt water blew through the area. In the corner of my eye, the mortal kids ran away as if something scared them to the point they didn't want to stay anymore.

Just what did Percy do? I thought to myself.

I didn't get the chance to wonder about it as the petsuchos lumbered toward me, his jaws opening to snap me up.

And I got angry. At least as angry as someone who doesn't want to be eaten by a croc could be.

I'd faced the worst Egyptian gods. I'd plunged into the Duat and trekked across the Land of Demons. I'd stood at the very shores of Chaos. I was not going to back down to an over grown croc.

The air cracked with power as my combat avatar formed around me—a glowing blue exoskeleton in the shape of Horus.

It lifted me off the ground until I was suspended in the middle of a twenty-foot-tall, hawk-headed warrior. I stepped forward, bracing myself, and the avatar mimicked my stance.

Percy yelled, "Oh my gods! What the—?"

The crocodile slammed into me

He nearly toppled me. His jaws closed around my avatar's free arm, but I slashed the hawk's warrior's glowing blue sword at the crocodile's neck, hoping to cut through the necklace that was the source of his power.

Unfortunately, my swing went wide. I hit the monster's shoulder, cleaving his side. Instead of blood, he spilled sands, which is pretty typical for Egyptian monsters. I would have enjoyed seeing him disintegrate completely, but no such luck. As soon as I yanked my blade free, the wound started closing and the sand slowed to a trickle. The crocodile whipped his head from side to side, pulling me off my feet and shaking me by the arm like a dog with a chew toy.

Just then A giant blast of water in the form of a fist came out of nowhere and slammed into the monster.

Fortunately, the force made the croc let go. Unfortunately, when he did, I sailed straight into the nearest house and smashed through the roof, leaving a hawk-warrior shaped crater in someone's living room. I just hope I didn't flatten some defenseless mortal.

When my vision cleared I saw the crocodile charging at me again. Then this jet of water grabbed the thing by the necklace and yanked it back. When I follow the hand down I saw that it was coming from my new friend Percy's thermos while his other arm was extended in a grip. I quickly realized the water was mimicking his hand.

"Hey! If you're done watching, help me out here!" Percy yelled. "I can't yank this thing off from my end."

I can tell what he meant. The croc started wrestling with the condense water hand.

I looked for a clasp. There has to be one.

Sure enough I spotted it at the monster's throat, a golden cartouche encircling the hieroglyphs that spelled SOBEK.

I was about to act, but my avatar collapsed. I dropped to the ground, exhausted and dizzy. I never could hold it too long.

Percy was really struggling to keep hold, as the Croc thrash around.

In the distance, sirens wailed. Somebody called the police, which didn't exactly cheer me up. It just meant more mortals were racing here as fast as they could to volunteer as crocodile snacks.

The crocodile snorted and shed water from his hide like the grossest fountain in the world, making my shoes slosh.

An idea ran through my head. I got some shabti. I took it out and started forming something out of it.

"Whatever you are doing, do it quick before—" Percy said just as the croc's tail hit the water hand destroying it.

"That happen," Percy muttered.

The crocodile decided to stop savoring the moment and just eat me. As he lunged I threw my shabti, only half formed, and barked a command word.

Instantly the world's most deformed hippopotamus sprang to life in midair. It sailed head first into the crocodile's left nostril and lodged there, kicking its stubby back legs.

It wasn't my best move, or work, but I had to act quick. The croc hissed and stumbled, shaking his head with the hippo either trying to get in deeper or wiggle out.

The crocodile whipped around and I jumped out of its tramplng path.

"You okay?" Percy asked.

I gasped for air but nodded weakly.

Percy took out his thermos and put the lid under it as he summoned water that poured out onto the lid. Then he handed it to me. I willingly took it and drank it down.

"Thanks," I said. "I'm surprise you're not out of water yet, though."

Percy chuckled. "Let's just say this thermos never runs out of water. Do you got any of that neat power left?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm running on empty. At the most I can do is open the clasp. But maybe you can with your magic

Percy shook his head. "I told you, I can't do an other magic other than manipulate the Mist."

"What does that mean exactly anyway?"

"Dude, you should know this. It's the magical veil that cover up the Mythical stuff from Mortals," Percy said.

I frowned, knowing what he was talking about, but not by the name he called it.

Just then the crocodile sneezed, launching the wax hippo across Long Island. The petsuchos turned toward us, roaring in anger.

"I'll distract it, you get the clasp."

With that Percy charged at the crocodile.

…

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

The moment percy stepped onto the mucky water, it started swirling around him like a hurricane. Percy jumped and slammed into the crocodile with so much force it rolling backward.

The croc didn't have time to react before Percy slammed into it again. When the croc tried to spew more murk water, it just joined in with Percy's hurricane wall as Percy slammed into it again.

Just what kind of magic is this?

I know Percy said he couldn't use magic, but that is the only explanation I had for what he was doing. But even with that explanation, it doesn't describe the degree Percy was attacking.

By the fourth attack, I realized I'd better start running. I'd have to reach the necklace after Percy's next attack.

I summoned my final bit of magical energy and transformed into a falcon, the sacre animal of Horus.

Instantly, my vision was a hundred times sharper. I soared upward, above the rooftops and the entire world switched to high definition 3-D. I saw the police cars only a few blocks away. I could see Percy in the eye of his very own storm. I could make out every slimy bump and pore on the crocodile's hide. I could make see each hieroglyph on the clasp of the necklace.

Percy charged and slammed with a full force hurricane that send send the crocodile stumbling and tumbling.

Now was my chance.

I folded my wings and dove for the crocodile. When I reached the necklace's clasp, I turned back to human and grabbed hold.

I was tired. I hadn't felt this pushed beyond my limits since I'd fought the Chaos lord, Apophis himself.

I ran my hand over the hieroglyphs on the clasp. There had to be a secret to unlocking it.

The crocodile bellowed and stomped. Percy's hurricane wind was slowing, and I knew Percy couldn't keep this up. Percy must have realized it too because now he was on defense as the croc tried to break through his hurricane.

I felt the four symbols that made up the god's name. But the first three weren't the ones I was focus on, it was the last one that stands for god.

I hit the god button but nothing happened. Okay maybe that wasn't it. So I go for the one that looked like a wicker basket (although Saddie called it a tea cup) and punched it with all my strength. This time the clasp made a satisfying click and sprang open. I dropped to the pavement, several hundred pounds of gold and gems spilled on top of me.

The crocodile staggered, roaring like the guns of a battleship.

Then there was silence. No sirens. No crocodile roaring. The mound of gold jewelry disappeared. I was lying on my back in mucky water, staring up at the empty blue sky.

Percy collapsed on one knee as the hurricane dissipated in the wind. But despite all that, he was grinning.

"That was great teamwork," Percy said. "And that move with turning into a hawk. I got to remember that if Frank and I ever fight together again."

I have no idea who this Frank was, but when closed my hands, I felt my fingers closed around a strand of jewelry—the collar that now was the size to fit around an average Croc's neck.

"The—the monster," I stammered. "Where—?"

Percy pointed. A few feet away, looking very disgruntled, stood a baby crocodile not more than three feet long.

"I think it might have been an abandon pet," Percy said.

I couldn't help but agree, but how had a baby croc gotten hold of a necklace that turned him into a giant killing machine?

"We should go," Percy said. "The mortals should be here soon."

He scooped up the baby crocodile, clenching one hand around his little snout. He looked at me.

I agreed. We better go.

…

Half an hour later, we were sitting in a diner off Montauk Highway. I'd shared my healing potion with Percy, who for some reason insisted on calling it nectar. Most of our wounds had healed.

I used the rope I had with me to tie up the crocodile in the woods where it won't cause any trouble until we decide what to do with it. We'd cleaned up as best as we could, but we still looked like we'd taken a shower in a malfunctioning car wash.

Percy's hair was swept to one side and a tangled mess. Not only that but now I got a closer look, I noticed a blend of grey streaks in his hair that looked almost natural. His orange somehow was ripped down the front but he had not a single scratch on him. On his shirt was a metal plate that looked like a name tag but with his name was the title: Pontifex Maximus. I was curious what it meant, but I didn't asked.

I'm sure I didn't look much better. I had water in my shoes, and I was still picking falcon feathers out of my shirtsleeves (hasty transformations can be messy).

We were too exhausted to talk as we watched the news on the television above the counter. Apparently mortals were calling the fight we just had a freak sewer event in caused by pressure building up in the drain pipes.

"Well, that's a first," Percy said.

"For you, maybe," I grumbled. "I seem to cause them everywhere I go."

"Maybe so, but I bet you didn't convince the whole nation that Ares was a terrorist that kidnapped three children and forced them to take part in destroying national monuments," Percy joked.

I nearly choked on my drink. "What?"

"A long story."

The waitress brought us a plate of cheeseburgers and fries. I ended up paying as Percy didn't bring any money with him.

"Cheeseburgers," Percy said. "Food of the gods."

"Agreed," I said, but I got the feeling we're talking about different gods.

"So, the Egyptian gods are real, huh?" Percy responded.

"Yep," I said. "Since you talk about the Greek gods so much, I take it they're real too?"

"Greek and Roman Gods actually," Percy replied. "Which brings up a question, how many other stories the mortals called mythology or religions they believed in are actually real?"

"That is a good question," I responded. "More importantly, do they know it."

Percy frowned as if my question reminded him of something. "Maybe they do."

I decided not to question it.

"The necklace is enchanted," I said wanting to change topics. "It's supposed to turn any reptile that wears it into the next petsuchos, the Son of Sobek. Somehow that little crocodile got it around his neck."

"You think someone put it around his neck," Percy said.

"Possibly," I responded.

"Who?"

"Hard to tell," I said. "I've got lots of enemies."

Percy snorted. "I can relate to that. So then the question is, why?"

I took another bite of my cheeseburger. It was good, but I had trouble concentrating on it.

"Someone wanted to cause trouble," I speculated. "I think maybe... Maybe they wanted to cause trouble that would get our attention. Both of our attention."

Percy chuckled. "And here I thought I might actually get my first break in five years before starting college. Spending time with my girlfriend. Finishing up high school, only having to deal with the usual monsters every now and then. But I guess the Fates aren't done with me yet."

"I take it you're talking about another greek god?"

"Goddesses actually," Percy said. "Three ancient looking goddesses that loves messing with me."

I laughed.

"Well if there is one thing I know, if the gods—Greek/Roman and Egyptian—kept us separated, there is a reason behind it. Which means if someone wants us to meet, there is a reason to that too," Percy said. "So what are we going to do with that necklace?"

"I can send it somewhere safe," I promised. "It won't cause trouble again. We deal with relics like this a lot."

"We, huh? So there are more of you—what did you call me earlier? Magician?"

"Yeah, there are, but I don't think you'll be welcome there if our gods kept us separated," I responded.

"Fair enough," Percy agreed. "What about the baby crocodile?"

"I can take it, give it a home." I thought about our big pool at Brooklyn House. I wondered how our giant magic crocodile, Phillip of Macedonia would feel about having a little friend. "It'll fit in."

"Good." Percy said. "That just leaves me one last question. If something like this happened again, and we need each other to fight, how do I contact you?"

I considered that. Then I made a snap decision. "Can I write something on your hand?"

He frowned. "Like a phone number?"

"Uh… well, not exactly." I took out my stylus and a vial of magic ink. Percy held out his palm and for the first time I got a good look at his tattoo. The first one was the letters SPQR, under it was a three point spear—a trident I think it's called, and bellow that was a single stripe. The most disturbing part of it was that it look like the tattoo was burned onto his skin.

"Nice tattoo," I responded. "I'm guessing there is a long story behind it."

"You could say that," Percy responded.

I nodded as I drew a hieroglyph there—the eye of Horus. As soon as the symbol was complete it flared blue, then vanished.

"Just say my name," I told him, "and I'll hear you. I'll know where you are, and I'll come meet you. But it will only work once, so make it count."

"Sounds good," Percy responded. "Hey is it okay I tell my girlfriend what we went through today? As much as a secret this is, she'll try to pry it out of me if I don't anyways."

"Sure," I responded. "Just don't tell anyone else unless we agreed on who."

"I swear on the River of Styx," Percy said.

Thunder boomed over head but nothing else happened.

"What was that?" I asked.

"The Greek gods love making the sky thunder when an oath like mine is made," Percy said. "Sometimes I think they enjoy hearing demigods make oaths that could cost us if we don't keep them."

I was worried what he meant, but didn't question it. Then he was gone.

…

An hour later, I was back aboard my airborne boat with the baby crocodile and the magic necklace as Freak flew me home to Brooklyn House. My head was still swimming with the new information I learned today. The Egyptian gods weren't the only gods out there.

I have already decided to tell Sadie about this, but no one else. She might think I'm kidding and give me grief, but she also knows when I'm telling the truth. As annoying as she is, I trust her (though I would never say that to her face).

Maybe she'll have some ideas about what we should do.

Percy is right. The gods kept the two sides separated for a reason. So if someone has orchestrated this so we can cross paths, I can't help but think this was an experiment to see what kind of havoc would result.

Fortunately, things turned out okay. The petsuchos necklace is safely locked away. Our new baby crocodile is splashing around happily in our pool.

But next time… Well, I'm afraid we might not be so lucky.

Somewhere there is a kid named Percy Jackson with a secret hieroglyph on his hand. And I have a feeling that sooner or later I'll wake up in the middle of the night and hear one word, spoken urgently in my mind:

Carter.