A/N: This is my first Percy Jackson story, so please tell me how good or bad I am doing. I would really appreciate it! Don't be afraid to point out any grammar or spelling errors.

Oh, and also, I would like the readers to tell me who they want Ebony to be paired with later on, like Will Solace, Nico di Angelo, Leo Valdez, etc. (Not specifically any of these, just putting names out there.)

Percy Vaporizes Our Pre-Algebra Teacher

Being a half-blood may sound cool, but it isn't. Put this book down now if you think you may be one.

Part of being a half-blood is fighting tons of monsters. And these monsters can get you killed in ways you wouldn't think possible.

My name is Ebony Jackson, twin sister of Percy Jackson.

We are twelve years old, and, until a few months ago, we were students at Yancy Academy, private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Are we troubled kids?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could go to any point of our short life to prove it, but things got really bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a trip to Manhattan—twenty-nine mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

It sounds like torture, as most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading the trip so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. It doesn't seem like he'd be cool, but he told stories and let us play games in class. He also had a collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher that didn't bore me and put Percy to sleep.

Percy and I had hoped the trip would be okay. Well, at least we hoped that for once we wouldn't get in trouble.

Boy, were we wrong.

See, bad things happen to us on field trips. Like at our fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, Percy had this incident with a Revolutionary War cannon. He said he wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course he got expelled and I with him even though I had not done a thing wrong. And before that, at our fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of Marine World shark pool, I hit a lever at the same time Percy did and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that… Well, you get the idea.

This trip, we were determined to be good.

All the way into the city, we put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of her peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich. Luckily I was not getting hit as I was in the seat across from them.

What kind of person actually likes peanut butter and ketchup together?!

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. (Lucky Grover.) He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew Percy and I couldn't do anything because the headmaster had threatened us both with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I heard Percy say under his breath.

"It's okay. I like peanut butter."

"With ketchup?" I asked.

He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it," Percy said. He started to get out of his seat but Grover pulled him into his seat. I sent him a grateful smile.

"You and Ebony are already on probation," he reminded Percy. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Of course we did. Him and me, even if I did nothing to get suspended.

Looking back on it, I really wished that Percy would have decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. I gladly would have taken in-school suspension compared to the mess Percy and I were about to get ourselves into.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his motorized wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It was amazing how this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years. But yet, the stuff in the galleries seemed to be a lot older than they are said to.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. It was very interesting, and I heard some people talking behind me and occasionally I heard Percy telling them to shut up.

Mrs. Dodds had been glaring at Percy every time he talked. She was this little math teacher from Georgia and always wore this leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She came to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured we were devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at Percy or me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and then we knew that one of us was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she had Percy and I erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, Percy told Grove he didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at Percy, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art. Can we please get to something more interesting, like the food they ate?

Behind me, I heard Nancy snickering. Then, "Will you shut up?"

Percy said that, I realize. Well, I guess this field trip is already going in a bad direction.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

Percy's face was so red, that had it been any other time, I would have laughed.

"No, sir," he said.

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"
I had recognized it immediately as Kronos eating his kids. He can do this, I know he knows it.

Percy looked at the carving. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because…"

"Well…" Percy said. I mentally face palmed and wanted to scream at him. "Kronos was the king god, and—"

I sucked in a breath, irritated.

"Titan," I said, nudging him.

"Titan," he corrected. "And… he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls next to me.

I rolled my eyes.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans. And the gods won," Percy said.

I was impressed that he could fit in such a long complicated war into a sentence.

There were snickers from the group. I was getting irritated. Like they knew what all these things were.

Behind Percy, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," I heard Grover mutter.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

I was so glad she got into trouble. She never gets into trouble, so I'm thankful for this. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. I swear, this guy has the ears of a horse.

I saw Percy shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"And you, Miss Jackson?"

I was totally unprepared to get asked a question.

"U-uh…" I stuttered. I think really hard, trying not to go brain dead and disappoint Brunner.

"It matters because some of the things we study are parts of our life today, so we need to pay attention to them," I say. "If we don't pay attention to what's going on now and not write it in history books, history may repeat itself," I say, giving him the best answer I could give.

Percy seemed impressed, and Grover was smiling a little.

"I see," said Mr. Brunner. "Well done Miss Jackson. And Mr. Jackson, half credit. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls (except me, of course) holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like the doofuses they are. One of them was pushed straight into me, a sort of attractive guy with beach blond hair and blue eyes. He smiled and I rolled my eyes, pushing him away.

"Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner said.

Percy told Grover and me to meet him outside. We walked out, talking about some of the things we thought were interesting so far on the museum trip.

When we got outside, a huge storm was brewing. I couldn't help but be nervous at the sight. The weather had been strange since Christmas, but I felt like it was something more than strange weather patterns. My mind started drifting to how school would be over soon, and I was excited to see mom again.

Percy finally came outside. Grover and I had sat on the edge of the fountain, to get away from the freaks we call our classmates.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," Percy said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he would lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius."

I laughed. "You could say that again, Percy," I said.

"Like you're any smarter than me," he said.

I huffed, knowing he was right. I opened my lunch bag that contained some candy that I had snuck into my dorm, and a sandwich.

"Can I have your apple?" I heard Grover ask Percy.

I ate my candy happily, until I looked at Percy. He was watching the cabs drive by, no doubt thinking about going and see mom, like I had earlier.

"Don't," I say as I put my hand on his shoulder.

"I know," he said. "I just wish that we could see her more often."

I nodded in agreement, silently ending our conversation. I looked over and saw that Mr. Brunner had parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he ate a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

When I turn back, I see Percy start to unwrap his sandwich when he stops. I see Nancy standing in front of him with her friends, and watch her dump her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at Percy with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were an orange like someone spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I could tell Percy was having a hard time keeping his cool, like I was. I don't remember what happened next, as my mind had gone blank.

Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy and Ebony pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds appeared next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I had no idea what they were talking about. All I knew was that Percy and I were in trouble again, making every year have a field trip gone wrong.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on us. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if we'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," Percy grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."
"Percy!" I hissed, knowing he should not have said that.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

Percy stared at him, stunned. I simply raised an eyebrow, impressed he would stand up for us like that.

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looked at us desperately.

"It's okay man," Percy told him.

"Thanks for trying," I added.

"Honeys," Mrs. Dodds barked at us. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirked.

Percy and I gave her our deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then we turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at us to come on.

"Am I imagining this," I said slowly, "or did she move up there really fast?"

"If you imagined it, I must have too," Percy said.

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know, I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank space left behind it. The school counselor told Percy and me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure.

We went after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, Percy glanced back.

When he did that, I swear Mrs. Dodds disappeared right before my very eyes, in between a blink of my eye.

What does she want from us? To buy Nancy a new shirt?

But apparently that wasn't the plan.

We followed her deeper into the museum. When we finally caught up with her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for the three of us, the gallery was empty.

That was a bit strange, considering there was people other than us in this gallery earlier. I had a gut feeling something was very, very wrong here.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Okay, now I knew for sure something was extremely wrong here.

"Percy…" I said.

"You've been giving us problems, honeys," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Percy said.

Really? He had to say that?

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you think you could get away with it?"

The looks in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

Okay, now I'm really thinking she is not normal. Or even human, if that's possible.

"I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am," Percy said.

"We are not fools, Percy and Ebony Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you two will suffer less pain."

Pain? Now I was scared.

"Well?" she demanded, after a moment of silence.

"Ma'am, I don't…" I said.

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Uh-oh.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacker melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. At least I was right about that.

She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice us to ribbons.

If possible, things got weirder.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen in the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me, while Percy caught the pen.

I screamed as I felt talons scrape my arm. I had been trying to dodge her, but one of my attempts was not successful.

I saw Percy catch the sword.

Wait, sword?

Mrs. Dodds spun towards us with a murderous look in her eyes.

I had run behind my brother, after getting scraped by the talons. I was now holding my arm, thinking about how we were going to die, at twelve years old, in a museum by our crazy pre-algebra teacher.

Percy's hands were shaking so badly, I was surprised he didn't drop the sword.

"Die, honey!"

She flew straight at us.

Percy swung the sword, as if he had been using it for years and was a natural thing to do.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed through her body as if she were made of water.

Then I heard a hissing noise.

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if the two glowing red eyes were still watching us.

We were alone.

Percy had a ballpoint pen in his hand. There were no scratches on my arm.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. The only person in here besides me was Percy.

I hugged him, almost bursting into tears, because I was so scared.

"We're safe," Percy said, as if he were trying to convince himself more than me.

His hands were still trembling.

We went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her friends. When she saw us, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butts."

"Who?" I said.

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I looked at Percy, confused. We didn't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. He asked Nancy what she was talking about.

She rolled her eyes and turned away.

Percy asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

But he had paused first, and he wouldn't look Percy or I in the eye, so we thought he was messing with us.

"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead. I shrieked, as I was terrified of thunderstorms. Percy put a comforting hand on my arm.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he never moved.

We went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

Percy handed Mr. Brunner his pen.

"Sir," he said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at him blankly.

"The other chaperone," I said. "Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, Ebony, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"