The following the Sunday marked the day of our flight to New York. Ethan had spent the rest of the week trying to figure out if there was any new gadgets he could get over there that hadn't yet been released here. Oddly, Daniel kept checking weather forecasts and getting increasingly agitated when he figured out they were all wrong. Apparently, it was chaos over there. That didn't settle my mood any.

The flight left at some ungodly hour in the morning, so naturally, I'd packed all my things the night before. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Mary waking up the entire house in a panic.

I staggered into the kitchen, groaning when I realised the clock only read half past three in the morning. Felicity was perched on one of the chairs in her pyjamas, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands and yawning widely. Mary, on the other hand, was already dressed in jeans and a baggy t-shirt, muttering to herself as she tried to make scrambled egg what with looked like egg, cheese and cola.

"I'd say morning," I started, rolling my eyes and slumping into one of the chair at the table. Felicity pouted at me in agreement.

"Of course it's morning!" Mary said cheerfully, her expression becoming very fixed. "You should be excited, Kels! New York!"

I restrained a flinch and nodded at her.

"What's New York?" Felicity asked loudly, frowning up at me.

"It's a city in America," I told her patiently.

"Where's that?"

"Across the Atlantic."

"What's the Atlantic?"

I smiled wearily as Mary set a plate of toast in front of us. Apparently, she'd given up on the scrambled egg. "The ocean on the west coast, now eat your breakfast." Felicity giggled at me, snatching up a piece of toast and chewing it remarkably loudly.

Mary nudged my shoulder gently. "You should eat something, too. The food on the plane will be awful.

"I'm not hungry," I replied quietly.

There was a short pause, then she pulled out the chair across from me and took my hands in hers. For some reason, the contact made me flinch back. Mary didn't let go. "Kelsey, if you don't want to go, I won't be upset."

I looked at her, remembering how much I'd begged her to let me go when Mr Graham had warned me a month ago that the rest of the class was going, and how much the trip cost. "I want to go," I assured her.

She grimaced. "I understand that it might be difficult, honey, I-"

"Mary, honestly," I sighed. "I'll be fine. It's just for one week, right? I'll be back before you know it." I couldn't look at her as I spoke.

The truth was, I did want to go, I just couldn't stop my stomach squirming at the thought of going back to America. Whatever had happened to me when I was a kid had obviously been traumatising enough to cause amnesia. Was it really a good idea to push things? What if I started to remember? More importantly, what if I didn't want to remember?

In the end, I forced myself to eat a few slices of toast to keep Mary quiet. Felicity continued to ask questions I knew she wouldn't understand the answer to, mainly why I wanted to cross an ocean in the first place. She didn't seem to realise that there was something on the other side. Still, it kept my mind off things and gave me something to do. I was beginning to get afraid that if I stopped talking, I'd throw up.

Within half an hour, we were packing my things into the back of the chair. I'd only packed one suitcase and a bag to carry on the plane, so it didn't take long. All too soon, we were on the road and driving toward my school, where a bus would be waiting to take the class to the airport.

The ride was awful. No one said a word. Felicity had fallen asleep in the back, her teddy wrapped in her arms and her pyjamas hidden by her long coat. Mary's hands were a little too tight around the steering wheel, and I'd turned the radio on to take my mind off things. Avril Lavigne's Runaway blasted back at me, so I turned it off again quickly.

We finally pulled up outside the school, and I saw Daniel already leaning against the side, his fingers tapping out a rhythm against his thigh. He nodded once when he saw me climb out of the car, jerking his head once to the side. I followed his gaze, to see Miss Ingis scowling at the car as though we'd ran over her dog. Suddenly, I wanted to get Mary and Felicity as far away from here as possible.

"You be careful," Mary told me sternly as she helped me pull my suitcase out of the boot. "And if you want to come home, all you-"

"Mary," I interrupted with a slight laugh. "I'll be fine, and I'll be back in a week. Relax."

She smiled sadly at me, stretching a hand forward and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. A lump formed in my throat, and a image suddenly flashed in front of my eyes. It showed a woman older than Mary by about five or six years, with waves of beautiful blonde hair and electric blue eyes. She was smiling at me, her eyes a little unfocused as she stretched forward and mimicked Mary's action. My eyes burned, and I found I had to blink furiously to stop myself crying.

"Kelsey?" Mary asked, stunned. "Kels, what's . . .?"

"Nothing," I managed to choke. "Just . . . nothing." I stopped myself telling her the truth, knowing she wouldn't take it well if she thought I was beginning to remember anything. And besides, I wasn't sure I could say it out loud anyway. I didn't want to get my hopes up, just to find out I was wrong.

"Well, if you're sure," she said slowly, pulling me into a tight hug. "Have fun. And remember, call me. Every night."

I pulled a face, but nodded at her and pulled the back door open. Carefully without waking her, I pecked Felicity's cheek with a small kiss then hauled myself back out again, snatching up my bags and waving to Mary. She sniffed as she climbed back into the front, but turned the engine back on and pulled away from the curb.

"Need a hand?" I glanced back to see Daniel stood behind me, his hand already taking my suitcase.

The twelve of us had to wait outside the school for almost twenty minutes. When it finally did arrive, it then took us over an hour to get to the airport. By the time we were actually in the air, I was completely fed up of Samantha's cackling laugh. Fortunately, the turbulence made her sick and she spent half her time in the bathroom.

I relaxed while we were on the plane, pushing the thought of our destination out of my mind and leaning back in my chair. Beside me and next to the window, Ethan was muttering under his breath, clutching the arms of his chair tightly. Daniel, who was sat on my other side, didn't look much better either. His eyebrows were pulled into a tight frown, and his eyes kept glowering out of the window.

I, on the other hand, managed to relax quite well. Everyone else seemed to be worried about the way the plane couldn't fly in a straight line, or the way it jolted up and down every now and then. But I gathered the pilot wouldn't have got the job if he didn't know what he was doing, right?

"I'm not good with heights," Ethan complained, staring out of the window at the ocean. "Not good with water, either." That was what got me. If we did crash, which I thought was highly unlikely, I wasn't so good with water either. Mind, I reckoned the impact would kill us anyway, so it didn't bother me that much.

"Relax," I instructed me. "You'll be fine." He sent me a doubtful look. "There's nothing wrong with the plane. Breathe, lean back, and stop looking out of the window." Pursing his lips, he nodded wryly, leaning back and closing his eyes tightly. I rolled my eyes.

The plane landed early for once, which considering all the turbulence, surprised everyone. The pilot was that shocked when he announced it, I couldn't understand a word with his board, Scottish accent. I followed Ethan and Daniel off the place, trying not to think about where we were as I stepped down onto the ground.

We made our way through the airport, and I found myself holding my breath as we stepped out onto the streets outside Manhattan Regional Airport. Behind me, Mr Graham was trying to talk to Miss Ingis, Samantha had recovered from her nausea and was cackling again, and some of the other kids were pointing to things and muttering as though they'd never seen a street sign before.

"You okay?" Daniel asked me with a frown. "You look like you're about to be sick."

I gulped, nodding. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

He pulled a face. "You know, what with your amnesia and everything." He said this in a very quiet voice, as though he was scared of offending me. I ignored him.

We'd been walking down the street for about five minutes when something – or rather, someone – caught my attention. The man was stood across the street, perfectly still, with his eyes fixed on us . . . or was it just me? His black hair was beginning to turn grey, and fierce, stormy eyes flashed as I met his gaze. Just looking at me made me weak at the knees with fear. Pursing his lips, he turned on his heel and marched down the street, not bothering to turn.

Shaking myself, I glanced sideways to see if anyone else had seen him. No one seemed to be bothered, but beside me, Daniel's expression had hardened, and Mr Graham's face had paled considerably.

I decided it was best not to ask.

We didn't do anything that night but go to the hotel. Mr Graham spent all evening telling us what we had planned for the next day, and running through everything they had at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Miss Ingis seemed to be trying to figure out the best way to kill me, which didn't calm me down any. Instead, it just made my night's sleep even worse.

I spent most of the night lay flat out on my back, glowering at the ceiling. When I could get to sleep, my dreams were haunted by the image of the blonde-haired-blue-eyed woman, the man I'd seen across the street with eyes like a storm, and a cold voice in a dark room. Something told me I had had that dream before, and the thought didn't help.

The next morning, the group was dragged to the museum. If I was being honest, I would have rather stayed back at the hotel, curled up into a ball and pretended the world didn't exist, but apparently, that wasn't an option. Instead, I was hauled onto the bus with Daniel and Ethan and shoved into the corner to make sure I didn't escape.

It pulled up thirty minutes later outside the museum. The moment I stepped off, the wind buffeted around me, and I blinked a few more times than necessary in surprise. Shaking myself, I reached up and wrapped my hair into a bobble.

"Mr Graham," I grimaced, muttering at him. "I'm just going to nip inside to the bathroom." He nodded at me, and I hurried inside before I burst. I searched around for a sign telling me where the toilets would be. It took me about ten minutes to find them and when I did, I was bursting. I'd just walked out the girl's bathroom when I heard a very familiar story.

"This picture depicts the Titan Kronos eating his child," a tour guide was saying. I waited a moment until the group moved away. For some reason, I found myself glancing around cautiously before I started around the corner.

Taking in as many of the pictures as I could, I strode down the hallways and deeper into the museum. When I finally stopped, I was surrounded with large statues of the twelve Olympians. Starting at the left, I walked around them all slowly, staring at each with such interest, I wondered what was wrong with me.

I stopped between Zeus and Hera. The two of them stood in the middle of the twelve. Zeus was sat upon a throne majestically, Hera likewise. I didn't know how long I stood staring, but I jumped as I heard some else coming.

Reacting on instinct, I leapt around Zeus's statue and slid to the floor, pursing my lips tightly to stop myself making any noise. I know what you're thinking. It's a museum. People are going to walk into rooms like this one. Why was I hiding? Honestly, I had no idea.

"You've been giving us problems honey," a female voice came.

"Yes, ma'am," a boy answered uncertainly. Slowly with my teeth in my bottom lip, I turned and peered around Zeus's feet. The woman stood with her back to me, but I could see the boy clearly. He was reasonably tall with black hair, tanned skin and green eyes that were tight with confusion. I pursed my lips and slipped back to the ground again, keeping my eyes on the boy.

"Did you really think you would get away with it?" the woman asked. The boy looked nervous, as though this woman was acting oddly. Suddenly, I was reminded of the conversation I had had with Miss Ingis, when she'd mentioned the gods . . . I frowned, inching away from the statue of the god of the sky.

"I'll – I'll try harder, ma'am," he said. Thunder abruptly shook the building, and I gulped hard, leaning back against the statue and closing my eyes. A throbbing pain was starting in my head behind my eyes, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. Something told me this wasn't the first time this had happened to me, but I couldn't remember enough to know the end result. Considering I couldn't remember anything at all, I figured it hadn't gone well.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," the woman continued, as though the thunder was nothing. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess and you will suffer less pain." I felt my jaw drop, as I double-took the comment. Was this woman serious? What the hell was wrong with her? She was threatening a small boy who couldn't have been any older than me. "Well?"

"I don't know . . ." the boy trailed. I knelt up again, ignoring the mounting pain in my forehead and peering around the corner. I felt myself go hollow as I recognised someone else. Miss Ingis was striding into the room, smiling evilly.

"Perseus Jackson," she sneered, eyes on the boy. He flinched, scowling, but her eyes drifted toward the statue of Zeus. "You can come out now, Acacia Grace."

I gasped and whipped back around, pressing further into the statue as though it would come alive and beat the two women down. Acacia Grace? I winced, a sharp pain shooting across my forehead as a flash blinded my mind. It was an image of a younger me, maybe five years old. I was stood scowling at another girl who looked a hell of a lot like me, only roughly double my age. She had short, spiky black hair and an athletic look, but she wore black, depressing clothes and had electric blue eyes.

Before I could think too much about it, Miss Ingis had me by the throat and was pulling me around the statue with amazing strength. She had the look of someone going completely insane. I gulped, suddenly realising exactly how the boy felt.

"Perhaps if you confess, Perseus Jackson, Acacia Grace will live," Miss Ingis threatened. Neither me nor Perseus Jackson moved or said a word. "If you insist, Percy Jackson." With that, I felt myself being dragged forward slightly, before being flung backwards with such speed, the air caught in my throat. My back slammed into one of the statues painfully, and a gasp slipped my lips.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about!" Percy exclaimed loudly. "And she has nothing to do with it anyway! She can't, I don't even know her!"

"Not yet you don't," the other woman snarled. "And don't lie to us. We are not fools."

Then something strange happened. The two women began to change. Their eyes glowed into barbecue coals. Their fingers stretched, turning into talons. Their jackets melted into large, leathery wings. They looked like hags with bat wings, claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs.

The building shook with thunder again, but instead of scaring me, it felt more like a warning. I dragged myself to my feet, leaning heavily against the statue of Athena.

A yelp sounded to the side, and I spun in time to see a middle-aged man in a wheelchair skid into the entrance, yelling for Percy. He launched something through the air and Percy caught it with one hand. Both of the hag things immediately lunged at him with a screech, and before I had any time to think about it, I burst into a run, colliding with Percy and sending him crashing to the ground. The two of us narrowly avoiding the talons of the two women, and the second we hit the ground, I rolled away from him, kneeling back up.

"What the?" he muttered. In his hands, he held a bronze sword. I stared for a moment, but I had the strangest feeling I should have known this was coming.

"I'll distract them," I answered, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.

Shaking myself, I turned and raced toward the side of the room, where one of the walls looked climbable. I managed to haul myself up with remarkable ease, but behind me, one of the women hissed and flew straight at me. Mumbling an apology I didn't quite understand, I glanced back and pushed off the wall, landing awkwardly on one of the god's shoulders. Lightning ripped the sky outside, and thunder rumbled in a low growl. Glancing at the god, I realised I was stood on Poseidon, the Sea God.

"Die honey!" one woman snarled. Her other, slightly uglier half flew for Percy first, shortly followed by the first. Gulping and knowing I'd regret it later, I flung myself back, landed on the first hag's back and spun her to the ground. Her talons narrowly missed my cheek as Percy's sword sliced straight through the second. She exploded into yellow power, vaporising on the spot. I gawped, stunned. But the one I'd managed to pin shook me off easily.

I rolled away in panic. What I thought might have been Miss Ingis shrieked and plunged her talons at me. Wide-eyed, I gasped and rolled more, missing three more strikes by inches. But suddenly, I hit Percy Jackson's feet and with one slice of his sword, the monster had vaporised like the first.

There was silence for a moment. I lay with my back on the floor, eyes wide as I stared at the spot the hag had just vanished from. Percy Jackson stood above me, sword still outstretched with the look of someone who'd just been frozen. Yet again, thunder shook the whole room dangerously, and Percy shook himself roughly. His eyes found me, and with a startled look, he dropped his sword and hurriedly helped me to my feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked carefully.

"Erm, I . . ." I trailed off, rubbing my forehead with a slight frown. "What on Earth . . . ? How . . .?"

"I-I don't know," he answered uncertainly, glancing back at the spot Miss Ingis had just disappeared from.

"And what were they talking about?" I frowned, scanning him cautiously. "What did they want you to confess to?"

He shook his head at me with an oblivious look. "I have no idea! I didn't do anything!"

I stared for a moment, then shook myself roughly. "I'm outta here," I mumbled sourly, turning on my heel and striding as fast as I dared out of the room.

"Hey, wait!" Percy yelled after me, racing to catch up. "It's Acacia, right? Acacia Grace?" I winced, staggering into the wall as another shot of pain rushed across my forehead. Again, an image flashed in front of me. It showed me, older this time by a couple of years, standing at the front door and yelling something I couldn't hear.

I groaned, rubbing my forehead again. Percy had caught me and lowered me to the floor, staring at me in amazement.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know," I muttered. "But I think I know someone who does." He raised an eyebrow, but pulled me to my feet again and followed me as we hurried out of the museum. To one side, my school sat eating their lunch. To the other, I gathered the group was from Percy's school.

"Are you with them?" he asked, pointing toward the Scottish kids.

I frowned slightly, nodding. "Why?"

"You don't sound Irish," he replied with a shrug.

"They're Scottish," I corrected. "And I'm not, I'm American. I just moved there a few months back."

"Miss Connor!" Mr Graham beamed, heading straight for me. That's how I knew something really was going on. He hardly ever smiled like that. "Ready?"

"No sir," I admitted, my eyebrows tightening as I scanned the area in front of us. "Erm, have you seen Miss Ingis?" He looked at me blankly, shaking his head oblivious. "Miss Ingis? The Science teacher?"

"Miss Connor, there has never been a Miss Ingis at our school." Mr Graham looked a little concerned about my mental health.

I glanced sideways at Percy, who just shrugged at me and held up a finger to tell me to wait. I pursed my lips, watching him bolt across the front entrance to his teacher, the man I had seen in the wheelchair. He gave Percy an identical look, exactly the same as I had received from Mr Graham. I frowned. Something definitely wasn't right.

Just to prove my point, the man in the wheelchair glanced back at me. The second his eyes met mine, they widened in disbelief, and his eyebrows rose so high, they disappeared into his hair line.

Damn.