Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot. Only the twists I put into the plot and my character. All the rights to the main plot and characters belong to Rick Riordan.

Three Old Ladies Knit The Socks of Death

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. Questions constantly followed me for the rest of the school year and the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. If they were, it wasn't funny! The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr-a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip-had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho. That's one thing that hasn't changed, I'm a psycho in everyone's eyes it seems.

It got so I almost believed them-Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't fool me. He never could since he's such s bad liar. I would giving him lying lessons but then he'd be able to lie to me! When I mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But I knew he was lying.

Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum. I'm sure of it. The thing and the girl. It was real. I know it was.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat. And yet there always seemed to be a presence near me, gazing at me in concern. But when I looked around, no one was there.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. Don't worry! I wasn't hurt. When the windows blew in, the wind seemed to slow it down until they just dropped to the floor. It went no one near me! A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. Again, I seemed to be in the wrong place at the worst time. I was outside when the large gusts of winds came in. However, the wind died down when it started to pull me away from the school. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year. It was horrible really, all those innocent people going down with the plane! How tragic!

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. Not really an all time low for me but it's gonna disappoint mum. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties. Words can't describe how horrid he is.

And yet . . . there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little strange. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.

I'd miss Latin class, too-Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days in his faith that I could do well.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner told me about this subject being life-a-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

Another thing I'd miss was this comforting feeling I'd get during random periods of the day and sometimes at night. I always felt like they'd protect me.

Okay. Maybe I am going crazy...

The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin Verbs? Forget it.

"It's not that hard Perseus. Just concentrate and you'll get it soon. Don't give up! So pick up the book little f–"

There was that voice again. It spoke to me every once in a while. Still as gentle and soothing as I first heard it. After many months of hearing it, I have stopped flinching when I hear it in my head. She always goes to call me 'little' something but she always cuts herself off and doesn't talk for a while...

And you heard right! In my head. I've finally figured out that that voice in the museum wasn't said out loud. She talked to me in my head! That's why it was all echo-ey.

"I don't think I can calm down and get this. Sorry!" I thought back to the imaginary voice.

I paced the room in frustration, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson.

I took a deep breath. I picked up my mythology book.

"Good job, Perseus!" No matter how many times she'd call me that, it still made me flinch.

I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat 'F' I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried. I always try but it never seems to go to anything in the end, when it comes to school anyway.

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice was definitely Grover's said ". . . worries about Percy, sir."

I froze. "Don't you dare Perseus! Walk away!"

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, "Liar!" but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult. "I'll give you that... Go ahead!"

I inched closer.

". . . alone this summer." Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him." Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

"Sir, he saw her . . ."

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I . . . I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.

"You really shouldn't have done that!"

"Shut up!"

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.

"Good! You took the evidence!"

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat tickled down my neck.

"Stay relaxed, he'll know you are there if you panic and cause a ruckus!"

I breathed steadily, hoping it would calm my nerves.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn . . ."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

Grover left the office in a downtrodden mood. I breathed a sound of relief. However another conversation started which I wasn't ready for...

"Hello Chi-Mr. Brunner..."

"Hello dear." Mr. Bruner replied in a wise ancient voice.

She was back but she's there. She's talking to my Latin teacher. She is real. I knew it!

Breaking the silence that occurred, she calmly replied, "You shouldn't worry about him you know. I'm watching over him."

"Why do you spend your time here? Your father may find out and get angry."

"You know as well as I that he'll never be mad at me. He loves me too much. And I watch over Perseus for him. For all of them."

"He has caused a stirring in the peace that has rested over us in a while..." silence once again broke out... "When will you return, we could use you back with us."

"Soon I'm sure. I feel as if somethings gonna happen soon so be alert. I'll see you soon."

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to get ready for this test?"

I didn't answer.

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just . . . tired."

I turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But two things were clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger. The next thing was that Mr. Brunner knew the girl who knew me and she was watching over me. Even as we speak. Maybe that's three things...