I don't like doing A/N's but a few words before you start reading. This is a story where they read Rick Riordan's books. I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and the words in bold are Riordan's words, not mine. The words Italiciced are usually someones thoughts, and so far, i haven't used the underline feature yet. I will not update untill I have two reviews. Enjoy.
Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Thalia Grace, Grover Underwood, Nico Di Angelo, Travis and Connor Stoll, Lacy (Insert Last Name Here), Will Solace, Clarisse La Rue, Miranda Gardener, and Jake Mason were all sitting around the Ping Pong table in the Big House. They had all just attended a very boring council meeting. Drew sent Lacy to represent the Aphrodite because she had to re-paint her nails.
Annabeth was drawing a design for Olympus' salad bar, while Percy watched her trying to figure out how everything worked. Thalia had drawn a target on the wall, and she and Will were shooting arrows at it. They bull's-eyes every time. Lacy was changing hair styles, and Clarisse was carving scenes of death on a spare piece of wood with her knife. Miranda was playing Send Seymour a Snausage with Jake. Travis and Connor were creating a Cheese Bomb. Grover was playing on his reed pipes. And Nico was asleep in his chair.
Lacy left after remembering her favorite hair clip was still in her cabin. She was running back yelling "I can't be absolute without my adornment!"
Jake left a few minutes later because playing Send Seymour a Snausage by yourself is boring. Instead, he decided to go down to the forge and make a shield for the youngest camper. Miranda and Will departed for archery lessons.
Suddenly Annabeth squealed and ran to the Big House Library muttering, "Pergola, need to add a Pergola. The roof. Pergola!"
Percy looked confused, "What the heck is a Pergola?"
Annabeth popped her head out of the library long enough to explain, "Percy, a Pergola is a framework in the form of a passageway of columns that supports a trelliswork roof; used to support and train climbing plants. Duh!"
The rest of the room sighed an "Oh" as if they really needed that information.
"I really don't get this!" Percy exclaimed looking at Annabeth's drawing. "Do any of you?"
They all took turns looking at Annabeth's incomplete blueprint. And each time they became confused.
Percy looked at the words on the back. "This says, 'vegetables:' and then it lists a bunch of veggies, 'fruits:' and lists a bunch of them, 'Toppings:' Then she lists a million of them. Oh! Here! 'Salad Bar is never empty. Need goddess to enchant. Paint? Demeter?' Hmmm, interesting."
Annabeth ran back into the room and grabbed her drawing. "Alcove? No mezzanine! And a Ribbon!"
She went back into the library. A few minutes later she screamed. She ran back into the room with five books that didn't look like they were on Pergolas.
"Look what I found!" She held up the books.
"Annabeth," Percy started like he was talking to a kindergartener, "a lot of people find books in a library."
"That's not what I meant." Annabeth grumbled.
Thalia yelled, "Everyone still here, SIT DOWN!" That jolted Nico out of his sleep.
"What are they called?" Grover asked.
Annabeth took a deep breath, "Ok, the first book is called The Lightning Thief. The Second one is called The Sea of Monsters, The third, The Titian's Curse, The fourth, Battle of the labyrinth, and the last one was titled the Last Olympian. But that isn't the strange part. The series title is…" she paused and looked at her boyfriend. "Percy Jackson and the Olympians."
Everyone stood up and screamed. "WHAT?"
"Are you telling me," Percy tried to make sense of it all, "That someone has written down all of my adventures?"
Annabeth looked at the author, and her eyes widened. "Oh my gods! This is written by the Fate's scribe. He can look into peoples minds and write down what their thinking. But the fates only ask him to do that when they are particularly interested in a person. His name is Rick Riordan. He goes by multiple pen names and usually he writes a story about Greek Heros so the world can hear about them. As little effect that could take on one person, it could change another's life. And… the fact that he wrote them down is not good for you. It's not good for any of us half-bloods in these books!" Annabeth set the books down on the table.
"Look," Clarisse sat down "the Fates WANTED you to find these books. They probably also WANTED you to read them. Heck, the probably WANTED me to say this, and now I am. They WANTED you to read them, so lets take turns reading them."
Everyone turned to look at her, some started to sit down and most followed their example.
A note appeared out of nowhere. Percy grabbed it. It was written in Greek, thank the gods, and Percy translated as he read. " 'Close your eyes, we are comeing –the Gods."
Knowing that not doing this would get them killed, everyone closed their eyes. 1 light appeared. 11 gods formed. 7 demigods opened their eyes. 0 people were incinerated.
Those gods happened to be: Poseidon, Athena, Zeus, Artemis, Hades, Dionysus, Hermes, Aphrodite, Apollo, Ares, and Hephaestus.
"Percy, My boy, you've grown since I last saw you." Poseidon smiled at Percy.
Athena smiled at Annabeth, and Annabeth smiled back, but neither of them said anything.
"My Lady!" Thalia exclaimed when she saw Artemis, "Father," she added quickly.
The other demigods had a quick exchange with their parents, though there were 4 more gods than demigods and satyrs.
"Grover. Could you get Chiron. He enjoys things like this." Dionysus asked lazily.
Grover trotted into the other room saying, "Yes, Mr. D, Of course."
See, Dionysus, or Mr. D, was the camp director for the camp. It was his punishment for chasing an off- limits nymph. He was supposed to stay here for a few millennia. But, then after the titian war he was allowed on Olympus for their 3 month party. Even though most of Olympus was in ruins, Kronos had never gotten around to destroying Zeus's largest temple. So they held the party there.
Chiron was a centaur. Half man, half horse. He clip- clopped into the room with Grover right behind him. They both sat down and the gods created chairs and joined the demigods for a evening full of entertainment.
"Ok," Annabeth said "So we read the books and do what?"
"Annabeth," Athena addressed her daughter "You know as well as I that these books will give all of us a new perspective on how the story went. I have a feeling that- because of what I have seen Percy seen and do over the years- that it will be quite entertaining. The Fate's scribe will most likely have looked into Percy's mind and written it with his thoughts. We will read the books, and learn from them."
Percy suddenly looked queasy, "Um, will none of you get angry at me, and like burn me to ashes if I say something bad about you? 'Cause knowing myself, I will."
The gods all grumbled in agreement.
Annabeth smiled. "Who wants to read the first chapter?"
"I will, cause it's about me." Percy grumbled.
Chapter 1
I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher
Suddenly the room burst out laughing. Partly at the title, Partly at Percy's blushing.
"What kind of title is that Percy?" Annabeth asked.
"HEY! It's not like I wrote the thing!" Percy replied. "I'm gonna start reading again!" Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.
"How is that advice?" Athena asked perplexed.
Percy ignored her. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.
"What a great moral booster."
If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.
"Seriously, Percy?" But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you. Don't say I didn't warn you.
"How are we supposed to know who is talking when you don't introduce yourself?" Grover asked
My name is Percy Jackson.
"Yes, I know what your name is! But that is no excuse for not telling us in the story." Grover protested.
"Dude! That's what it says in the book. 'Don't say I didn't warn you.' And then, 'My name is Percy Jackson.'" Percy replied.
"Oh!" Grover replied.
I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York. Am I a troubled kid?
"Yeah. You could say that." Clarisse exclaimed.
Percy started laughing.
"What?" Clarisse asked.
"The next line." Percy said before starting to laugh again.
"Well read it!" Clarisse yelled. Yeah. You could say that.
This time it was Clarisse who started blushing. I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it,
"You did make it to sixteen. That's pretty long for a child of the big three!" Hermes said.
but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan— twenty-eight 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.
"That sounds interesting." Annabeth and Athena said intrigued.
I know—it sounds like torture.
"Torture?" They asked.
Most Yancy field trips were. But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this 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. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.
"Sleep?" They asked again. I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble. Boy, was I wrong. See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway.
"Cool!" The Stolls, Hermes, Ares, and Clarrisse all exclaimed exitedly.
And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.
"I wanted to know more," Ares whimpered in a manly way.
This trip, I was determined to be good. All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich. Grover was an easy target.
"Hey!" Grover yelled.
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. 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.
Grover blushed. Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death
"Excuse me?" Poseidon yelled.
"Dad calm down!" Percy sounded worried. Let me start that sentence again.
The headmaster had treatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.
"Oh!" Poseidon blushed. "I'm going to kill her," I mumbled.
"Do it!" Clarisse and Ares yelled. Grover tried to calm me down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter." He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch. "That's it." I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.
"GROVER!" the war duo gave murderous looked to Grover. "You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens." Looking back on it, I wish I'd decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into. Mr. Brunner led the museum tour. He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery. It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years. 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. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye. Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
Nico and Hades exchanged nervous looks. From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month. One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."
"GROVER!" Annabeth screeched.
Percy put his hand on her shoulder and she calmed down instantly. Poseidon sighed. How could he and Athena's kids get along and not them. It hurt him. But it also made him less mad at her. Being a god is difficult: he thought
Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art. Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and It came out louder than I meant it to. The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story. "Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?" My face was totally red. I said, "No, sir." Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?" I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"
said, "Will you shut up?"
The gods flinched. "Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because ..." "Well..." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was the king god, and—"
"God?!" The Olympians were furious. "God?" Mr. Brunner asked. "Titan," I corrected myself. "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—"
"Which sucked!" one of the gods yelled. "Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me. "—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."
"You summed up years, and years of history in 5 sentences?" Annabeth asked.
"I have a talent!" Percy smiled innocently at her.
"The only talent you have is using water," Annabeth grumbled "No offence Poseidon!" she added quickly. Some snickers from the group. "And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
Behind me, 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.'"
"Busted!" Apollo, The Stolls and Hermes chorused
"Boys." Thalia murmured. Artemis, who had heard her hunter, smiled.
"Busted," Grover muttered.
Another round of laughter. "Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair. At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears. I thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir." "I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five 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
"HAPPY NOTE?" everyone but Chiron asked. The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.
"Guys are doofuses, they don't need to act." Artemis grumbled.
"HEY!" All the boys in the room protested. Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson." I knew that was coming. I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go— intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me. "About the Titans?"
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it." "Oh." "What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson." I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard.
"He's a teacher!" I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped.
"Awesome!"
But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C— in my life.
"C-?" Athena asked outraged.
"How do you think you daughter came up with the name 'Seaweed Brain?" Percy defended. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly. I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.
"I was. She was a nice lady." Chiron said. He told me to go outside and eat my lunch. The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue. Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
"Sorry!" Poseidon and Zeus grumbled Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing. Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
Most people laughed. "Detention?" Grover asked. "Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius." Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?"
Grover blushed. All the demigods cracked up. I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it. I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.
"Awww!" Aphrodite cooed. Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.
"I so need one!" Hermes yelled. I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap. "Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
"She needs braces!" Travis commented. I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.
Poseidon raised his eyebrows, "Interesting description." I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"
"Did not!" Percy interrupted himself long enough to say. Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us. Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—" "—the water—" "—like it grabbed her—"
"Really?" Clarisse asked.
Percy shrugged and continued reading. I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again. 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 me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—" "I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."
"Never guess your punishment!" Hermes and his two sons blurted. That wasn't the right thing to say.
"Well, duh!" The three face palmed. "Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said. "Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."
"Hey!" Percy looked at Grover "Thanks again G-man!"
"No prob." I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death. 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 me desperately. "It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying." "Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now." Nancy Bobofit smirked. I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare.
"Can I see it?" Clarisse asked.
Percy gave it to her, and trust me, It's not pretty.
Then I 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 me to come on. How'd she get there so fast? 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 place behind it.
"That's an interesting way of putting it!" Athena commented to herself.
The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things. I wasn't so sure. I went after Mrs. Dodds. Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.
"CHIRON!" I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall. Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop. But apparently that wasn't the plan. I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section. Except for us, the gallery was empty. 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. Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...
"She probably did. She's like that, you know." Nico explained.
Percy nodded. "You've been giving us problems, honey," she said. I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am." She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?" The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil. She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I said, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am." Thunder shook the building. "We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain." I didn't know what she was talking about. All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room.
"Candy!" Apollo whined!
Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.
"It's not a bad book, you know," Annabeth defended.
"Well?" she demanded. "Ma'am, I don't..." "Your time is up," she hissed. Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.
"Monster!" Everyone screamed
Then things got even stranger. Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand. "What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air. Mrs. Dodds lunged at me. With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.
Poseidon's eyes twinkled. Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes. My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.
"That would be bad," Thalia said nonchalantly
She snarled, "Die, honey!" And she flew straight at me. Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.
"Natural?" Someone asked. The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!
Everyone pictured that
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 those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.
A chill ran down Percy's spine. I was alone. There was a ballpoint pen in my hand. Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me. My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.
"Those are actually pretty good," Hephaestus grunted. Had I imagined the whole thing? I went back outside. It had started to rain.
How blunt: the smart people thought. 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 ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."
"Who?" I said, "Who?"
Laughter. "Our teacher. Duh!" I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about. She just rolled her eyes and turned away. I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was. He said, "Who?" But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I thought he was messing with me. "Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious." Thunder boomed overhead. I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved. I 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." I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it. "Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?" He stared at me blankly. "Who?" "The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher." He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, 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?"
"I felt fine!" Percy yelled. "Oh," he said in a calmer voice, "That's the end of the chapter."
Annabeth raised her hand like she was in class "I'll read next!"
Conner jumped in his seat. "What's it called? What's it called?"
"Three old ladies knit the socks of death. Were those the…" Annabeth's voice trailed off. The room fell silent with realization.
