Enjoy chapter two!

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.


"Show me Chiron, at Camp Half-Blood." I announced, throwing a drachma into the mist.

It had been a week since I'd left Virginia, and I'd finally made it to New York City, after much hitch-hiking and stowing away on cargo trucks, not to mention fighting off monsters in every city. I was exhausted, and there was nothing I wanted more than to know what was going on at Camp Half-Blood. More dreams had found their way to me, all depicting one thing: Camp was in trouble. And I was thirsty for answers.

The mist shimmered, and then Chiron, my centaur-slash-teacher stood before me.

"Annabeth?" He asked uncertainly. He had bags under his eyes, and his beard was bushier than normal. His eyes widened when he saw me, what with my face caked in dirt and dry blood, and my tattered shirt littered with claw marks.

"Chiron, is everything okay?" I said immediately, forgoing any type of greeting. "At camp, I mean."

He flicked his tail nervously. "There have been… problems."

"Like what?" I asked uneasily. I did not want my dreams to be true.

He shifted his weight. "Now is not the time to discuss such matters."

"What are you talking about?" I cried. "If camp is trouble, I want to help! I've been having these dreams about trouble at camp—"

"Annabeth," He said. His voice was tired. "come to camp, if you must. But just be aware that there will be changes. I'm afraid I have to go now."

He raised his hand to slash through the mist, but I said, "Chiron, wait!"

His hand hesitated, and I seized my chance. "Is this… does this have to do with… the prophecy?"

My words seemed to weigh him down; his shoulders drooped and his eyes seemed even more tired than before. "No. The Great Prophecy is yet to come. But that does not mean things here are going to be easy."

"Chiron—" I began, but the mist had already dissipated.

I slouched against the alley wall behind me, the rough bricks scratching my back through my thin cotton shirt. I hated that he wouldn't give me the answers I needed. If camp was in trouble, I wanted to help. But how could I help if I didn't know what was going on?

I had to find out. I was determined now to get the answers I needed, one way or another. And if camp was indeed in danger, then there was only one other person—beside myself, of course—that I'd want to be by my side: Percy.

I took out my knife and studied it. It was stained with the blood of all the monsters that I had met on my journey to New York. The edge of the blade was horribly dull from being used so many times. I wiped it with my shirt, managing to clean off the remnants of the monsters, and attempted to sharpen it on the wall behind me.

I glanced at the newspaper I'd stolen from a dumpster. Its information was useless, though, besides the date. What I really needed was a way to find out where Percy lived, and I doubted that would be plastered anywhere in the paper. I had to get to him; I had to warn him about camp. But how?

And then an idea struck me. I quickly threw down my knife and rummaged around in my backpack, bringing out only a handful golden drachmas and a couple dollars worth of mortal money. I frowned at my measly supply, but plucked one golden coin from my hand and straightened up, looking at the low fog in front of me that had procured a weak rainbow. I looked around, making sure I was alone in the alleyway, and was about to throw in the coin when I hesitated.

What was I going to say? What would Percy think if I just appeared? And would he be alone? I looked up at the gray sky and the low sun that had barely risen past the horizon; it was way too early to expect him to be awake, anyway.

I slumped back against the brick wall, defeated by my reasoning, and thought. Maybe I could go to his apartment and talk to him in person, but where was his apartment?

My eyes lit up again as another idea came to me: I'd just thought of another use for this drachma.

I threw the golden coin into the mist and, without knowing if my idea would work, said, "Show me where Percy Jackson's apartment is."

The mist shimmered and in front of me stood a five-story brownstone. The light outside was grayish, like it was here, so it must not be too far away. Mounted on the door stood the bronze numbers: 1107.

"One-one-oh-seven," I repeated to myself. "One-one-oh-seven…"

Now, if only I knew the street name. Maybe if I asked…?

"What is the street name?" I said to the mist. It immediately zoomed sideways to a street sign a little farther down the block: East 104 and First Avenue.

"Okay… one-one-oh-seven, East 104 and First," I repeated to myself. "Easy enough. What floor is he on?"

Once again the scene zoomed back towards the brownstone and rested on the fifth floor.

"Fifth floor. One-one-oh-seven, East 104 and First. Got it."

I slashed through the mist and the scene disappeared, to be replaced with the brick alley wall opposite me. I slipped my newly-clean knife back into the waistband of my muddied jeans, slung the backpack over my shoulder, and settled my invisibility hat onto my head. Turning invisible wasn't necessary, as it would in no way stop monsters from finding me, but I was sure that I, a girl with scratches on her face and twigs in her hair, was going to attract much more attention than if I travelled invisibly.

I left the alleyway, and found that the sun had risen in the sky a little more. The crowds on the sidewalks were relatively thin at this early hour, but I still took extra care not to bump into anyone. I kept repeating Percy's address under my breath as I walked, watching the last remnants of dawn fade out and get replaced with bright sunlight.

It seemed like I'd walked forever when I finally reached the corner I was looking for: the intersection of East 104 and First. I strode off faster, which was difficult because the crowds on the sidewalk had grown. I tried to weave my way through, but that was much harder when the pedestrians couldn't see you.

I checked the numbers on the brownstones I passed: 1098…1099…1100…1101…

I tripped over a pebble just then and staggered, and impulsively pushed against an old man, the closest thing to me, to regain my footing. A moment later I realized my mistake—both that I shouldn't be touching anybody when I was invisible, and that old men probably shouldn't be pushed. Sure enough, he lurched forward, but, without thinking, I grabbed the back of his coat before he could fall and pulled him upright. He looked around and thanked a puzzled businesswoman standing right behind him. I scurried off before I could hear her response.

I continued to pass the brownstones: 1105…1106…1107.

This was it. But now that I was here, what was I going to do? I couldn't just walk in.

I looked to my right and saw an alleyway. Could there be…?

I stepped into the alley and sighed in relief: there were fire escapes here. There were three of them for the three sets of windows on each floor. They were old and rickety, not the kind of thing I'd willingly climb, but I'd been through worse and I had to warn Percy somehow. I didn't know which one Percy would be in, but if I wanted to find out, I'd have to start looking now.

With a heavy sigh, I made my way over to the closest one and began to climb. Once I reached the fifth floor, I peered into the window.

Wrong one. Percy wasn't in this one; a teenage girl was asleep, wrapped up snuggly in a purple blanket. She looked about Luke's age—

There it was again. That sharp pain in my chest, the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that was brought on with the simple action of thinking his name.

I forced myself to keep moving. I could stay and sulk all day about Luke leaving, but I couldn't afford to lose any time. Camp was in danger, and I had to warn Percy.

To save time, I leapt over the railing of this fire escape and landed softly on the next one. I peered in; once again, there was no Percy.

The room was empty, but the walls were plastered with frilly pink things that reminded me so much of the Aphrodite cabin that I wanted to puke. Ponies and rainbows and anything else completely girly covered everything. I backed away at once; this was definitely not Percy's room, and if it was, we were going to have to have a serious conversation.

I jumped over to the next fire escape and peered into the window. Bingo.

Percy was asleep. His room was a mess, but I didn't expect anything less from him. Clothes and old chip bags littered the floor, and his desk was looked like it had been attacked by a tornado.

I leaned back on the railing. Now that I'd reached Percy, what was I going to do next? I guess there was nothing else to do but wait. After all, I couldn't warn Percy if he was sleeping.

So I waited for him to wake up, watching as the last trace of dawn was washed out by the bright morning sunlight. I thought about how I was going to talk to him; maybe, when he wakes up, I could just take off my hat and knock on the window, and I could talk to him that way.

All of a sudden, Percy shot bolt upright in his bed, as if he'd just staggered his way out of a bad dream. His face was pale and he looked shaken. He was also a bit apprehensive, as if he expected a monster to come barreling through his bedroom door. When he looked out the window, maybe to make sure that a hellhound wasn't drooling outside the glass, his eyes seemed to land on me, and his expression of unease turned to a puzzled one. I looked behind me to see what he was looking at, and saw my own shadow. It fleetingly reminded me of the ominous self-moving shadows I saw in my dream, the one of the cave and the huddled shape I'd had my last night in my Virginian home, but I pushed that image out of my mind as I bit back a curse at my stupidity.

I quickly sidestepped out of his view and leaned back against the brick wall, my ears straining for any kind of noise. From his room, I heard a knock and a muffled voice call something—probably his mother telling him to get up—and I heard him call back, "Coming."

I leaned my head sideways slightly so that I could peer into the window. He was perched on the edge of his bed, holding something bronze and small—his pen/sword, Riptide. He wore a look of longing, as if he'd like nothing better than to take it out and start slashing some monsters with it. But if my dreams were right, that sword was going to have a lot of use in the near future.

He set it on his bedside table and got out of bed. He reached up and started to take off his shirt—

I jerked my head back. My face felt hot. Was he—?

I risked a glance back in the window, and retreated again almost immediately.

He was getting dressed.

I wanted to bury my face in my hands. I felt a hot surge of embarrassment, and silently vowed that I would never speak of this.

I once again leaned back against the brick wall, my face still feeling quite warm, and heard a door slam.

I peeked back inside, rather hesitantly this time, and saw that Percy had left. I let out a frustrated sigh; now how was I going to talk to him? I couldn't very well just climb through his window and pop out of nowhere in the middle of breakfast and say, Hey, I'm here to take you to camp!

Maybe I could catch him on his way to school. That seemed like a much better option.

I climbed back down the rusting fire escape, taking extra care not to slip, and wove my way through the crowd. I decided to wait across the street, as the crowd was much sparser over there and the chance of me being noticed was slimmer. I waited for a brief lull in traffic, and sprinted across the road, narrowly avoiding a collision with a taxi.

I settled against the brick wall of this brownstone and folded my arms, waiting.

The sun was steadily climbing through the sky in front of me and the crowds continued to get thicker. Twice I had to move quickly to avoid getting run into. I thought about my dream I'd had in Virginia, and the horrible monster that had been circling Thalia's tree and eyeing it as if it was a particularly tasty morsel. Just the thought of that monster anywhere near Thalia sickened me, and it scared me to think what had happened after I'd left the dream. Had the monster bit the tree? And if it had… what had happened to it? I remembered what had happened to the grass when the poison had touched it—it had just died. And if that same poison touched Thalia…

I was spared of having to finish that unwelcome thought when I spotted a familiar flash of dark hair: Percy had emerged from his apartment across the street. When I saw him, fully clothed this time, I had a strange surge of happiness. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed him over the summer, and just looking at him made me smile. Again, he looked my way and his gaze lingered on me, though I was invisible. Then I remembered about my shadow and quickly ducked into a neighboring alleyway, hoping he put my curious person-less shadow down to imagination.

I saw him shake his head and take off jogging down the sidewalk, heading for the subway.