Draco sighed and sacrificed all of his food he wasn't hungry, so he used all of his food as an apology to all the 12 Olympic Gods, Hecate, Hestia, and Hades included. Draco putted his head down and stayed like that until Tyson was claimed as a son of Poseidon.
Wait what...?
3rd Person P.O.V.
Days passed and everyday campers at camp would tease Percy tremendously about his 'minter of a brother.' It pissed Draco off and got some bruises for punching the people who did. Both Draco and Annabeth tried to make Percy feel better. Annabeth suggested we team up for the chariot race to take their minds off their problems. Don't get them wrong—they all hated Tantalus and they were worried sick about camp—but they didn't know what to do about it. Until they could come up with some brilliant plan to save Thalia's tree, they figured they might as well go along with the races. After all, Annabeth's mom, Athena, had invented the chariot, and Percy's dad had created horses. Together they could all would own that track.
One morning Annabeth, Draco, and Percy were sitting by the canoe lake sketching chariot designs when some jokers from Aphrodite's cabin walked by and asked Percy if he needed to borrow some eyeliner for his eye ... "Oh sorry, eyes."
As they walked away laughing, Draco went ahead to fight them but was quickly grabbed by his hoodie by Annabeth who grumbled, "Just ignore them, Percy. It isn't your fault you have a monster for a brother."
"He's not my brother!" Percy snapped. "And he's not a monster, either!"
Draco and Annabeth raised their eyebrows. "Hey, don't get mad at me! And technically, he is a monster," Annabeth said.
"Well you gave him permission to enter the camp," Percy muttered. "Actually, I was the one who gave him permission to enter camp, Perce," Draco said grinning sheepishly. Percy glared at him.
"It was because it was the only way to save your life! I mean ... I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't expect Poseidon to claim him," Draco apologized. "Don't apologize Draco, you did the right thing. Besides cyclops are the most hideous and destructive thugs ever," Annabeth said.
"He is not! What have you got against Cyclopes, any-way?" Percy questioned.
Annabeth's ears turned pink. Percy furrowed his eyebrow. "Just forget it," she said. "Now, the axle for this chariot—"
"You're treating him like he's this horrible thing," Percy said. "He saved my life."
Annabeth threw down her pencil and stood. "Then maybe you should design a chariot with him. "
"Maybe I should."
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
She stormed off and left Draco and Percy alone. "C'mon let's finish designing the chariot without her alright?" Draco said, grabbing a pencil and continued sketching away. "Why does she hate cyclops that much anyways?" Percy asked. Draco sighed, "I can't really tell you why since it's not my thing to share, but its complicated... Annabeth just had a bad experience with cyclops." They both stayed quiet the rest of the day.
oOo
The next couple of days, Draco tried to keep his mind off his problems.
Silena Beauregard, one of the nicer girls from Aphrodite's cabin, helped Draco give Percy his first riding lesson on a pegasus. She explained that there was only one immortal winged horse named Pegasus, who still wandered free somewhere in the skies, but over the eons he'd sired a lot of children, none quite so fast or heroic, but all named after the first and greatest.
Being the a wizard and having a sport that involves flying, Draco liked going into the air. But since Percy was a son of Poseidon and this rivalry with Zeus, he tried to stay out of the lord of the sky's domain as much as possible. But riding a winged horse felt different. It didn't make Percy nearly as nervous as being in an airplane. Maybe that was because his dad had created horses out of sea foam, so the pegasi were sort of ... neutral territory.
Percy said he could understand their thoughts. Draco wasn't surprised when Percy's pegasus went galloping over the treetops or chased a flock of seagulls into a cloud.
The problem was that Tyson wanted to ride the "chicken ponies," too, but the pegasi got skittish whenever he approached. Percy told them telepathically that Tyson wouldn't hurt them, but they didn't seem to believe him. That made Tyson cry.
The only person at camp who had no problem with Tyson was Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin and himself. The blacksmith god had always worked with Cyclopes in his forges, so Beckendorf took Tyson down to the armory to teach him metalworking. He said he'd have Tyson crafting magic items like a master in no time.
After lunch, Draco worked out in the arena with Apollo's cabin. Swordplay had always been one of his weapon strength. He wasn't as good as Percy, but he wasn't bad either. He at least was able to tease Percy with the fact that he could shot and arrow and hit its target.
Draco was joined by Percy and together they thrashed the Apollo guys easily. They should've been testing themselves against the Ares and Athena cabins, since they had the best sword fighters, but Percy didn't get along with Clarisse and her siblings, and after his argument with Annabeth, Percy just didn't want to see her.
They went to archery class, even though Percy was terrible at it, and it wasn't the same without Chiron teaching. In arts and crafts, Draco used some play to make a form of mask, but it started to break apart even if he placed more clay, so he ditched it. He sometimes scaled the climbing wall in full lava-and-earthquake mode. And in the evenings, he did border patrol. Even though Tantalus had insisted they forget trying to protect the camp, some of the campers had quietly kept it up, working out a schedule during their free times.
Draco and Percy sat at the top of Half-Blood Hill and watched the dryads come and go, singing to the dying pine tree. Satyrs brought their reed pipes and played nature magic songs, and for a while the pine needles seemed to get fuller. The flowers on the hill smelled a little sweeter and the grass looked greener. But as soon as the music stopped, the sickness crept back into the air. The whole hill seemed to be infected, dying from the poison that had sunk into the tree's roots. The longer Draco sat there, the angrier and sadder he got.
Luke had done this. He remembered his sly smile, the dragon-claw scar across his face. He was his first friend and the first one he told his age, but the whole time he'd been Kronos's number-one servant.
The more Draco thought of Luke the more he missed him. He had been a good friend and always made sure to have a time of day, where he'd practice with Draco sword fighting or just talk when he needed it.
There is a new Golden Age coming. Luke won't be part of it.
At night, Percy said he had dreams of Grover. Sometimes, he'll hear Grover's voice, bite he wouldn't tell Draco what it was claiming it was stupid.
The night before the race, Tyson, Draco, and Percy finished their chariot. It was wicked cool. Tyson had made the metal parts in the armory's forges. Percy sanded the wood and put the carriage together. Draco made the design and helped both Tyson and Percy sometimes. It was blue and white, with wave designs on the sides and a trident painted on the front. After all that work, it seemed only fair that Tyson would ride shotgun with Percy, though Draco knew the horses wouldn't like it, and Tyson's extra weight would slow them down.
Draco went to sleep at night, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen soon. The next day he was right something did happen. Percy had a Demi-God dream and said that he'd seen , Grover who was wearing a wedding dress. And was trapped in a cave with a monster who wanted to make him his wife. He said Grover was lead to tape made by Polyphemus, who made him think he had found Pan, the long lost god of the wild. He said that he needed to find Grover at the Sea of Monsters. Draco paused, "The Sea of Monsters?" He asked Percy quite unsure if he heard right. Percy was about to reply when they arrived at the place where the race was going to be held at. The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods.
Hephaestus's cabin had used the bronze bulls, which were completely tame since they'd had their heads smashed in, to plow an oval track in a matter of minutes.
There were rows of stone steps for the spectators— Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads, and all of the campers who weren't participating. Mr. D didn't show. He never got up before ten o'clock.
"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke, his right hand chased a chocolate eclair across the judge's table. "You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled at us like they were all naughty children. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!"
Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track. They had a sweet ride made of bronze and iron—even the horses, which were magical automatons like the Colchis bulls. Draco had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than a fully loaded Maserati.
The Ares chariot was bloodred, and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons. Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops, and a bunch of other nasty toys.
Apollo's chariot was trim and graceful and completely gold, pulled by two beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he had promised not to shoot regular pointed arrows at the opposing drivers.
Hermes's chariot was green and kind of old-looking, as if it hadn't been out of the garage in years. It didn't look like anything special, but it was manned by the Stoll brothers, and Draco shuddered to think what dirty tricks they'd schemed up.
That left two chariots: one driven by Annabeth, and the other by Percy.
Before the race began, Draco and Percy tried to approach Annabeth and tell her about Percy's dream.
She perked up when Percy mentioned Grover, but when Percy told her what he'd said, she seemed to get distant again, suspicious.
"You're trying to distract me," she decided.
"What? No I'm not!" Percy said, annoyed that she didn't take him seriously.
"Oh, right! Like Grover would just happen to stumble across the one thing that could save the camp."
"What do you mean?"
She rolled her eyes. "Go back to your chariot, Percy. Draco go to the stadium the race is almost about to start."
"He's not making this up. Grover's in trouble, Annabeth," Draco said trying to make her believe them.
She hesitated. Draco could tell she was trying to decide whether or not to trust them. Despite their occasional fights, Percy and Annabeth had been through a lot together. And Draco knew she would never want anything bad to happen to Grover.
"Percy, an empathy link is so hard to do. I mean, it's more likely you really were dreaming," Annabeth argued.
"The Oracle," Percy said. "We could consult the Oracle."
Annabeth frowned.
Last summer, before Percy's quest, he'd visited the strange spirit that lived in the Big House attic and it had given him a prophecy that came true in ways people never expected. The experience had freaked Percy out for months. Annabeth knew Percy would never suggest going back there if I wasn't completely serious.
Before she could answer, the conch horn sounded.
"Charioteers!" Tantalus called. "To your mark!"
"We'll talk later," Annabeth told them, "after I win."
Draco headed to the seats seeing Percy walking back to his own chariot, Draco frowned as the many more pigeons were in the trees now—screeching like crazy, making the whole forest rustle. Nobody else seemed to be paying them much attention, but they made Draco nervous. Their beaks glinted strangely. Their eyes seemed shinier than regular birds.
Tyson was having trouble getting their horses under control. Percy had to talk to them a long time before they would settle down.
Now, if you've never seen a Greek chariot, it's built for speed, not safety or comfort. It's basically a wooden basket, open at the back, mounted on an axle between two wheels. The driver stands up the whole time, and you can feel every bump in the road. The carriage is made of such light wood that if you wipe out making the hairpin turns at either end of the track, you'll probably tip over and crush both the chariot and yourself. It's an even better rush than skateboarding.
Percy took the reins and maneuvered the chariot to the starting line. He gave Tyson a ten-foot pole and told him something Draco couldn't make up.
As the chariots lined up, more shiny-eyed pigeons gathered in the woods. They were screeching so loudly the campers in the stands were starting to take notice, glancing nervously at the trees, which shivered under the weight of the birds. Tantalus didn't look concerned, but he did have to speak up to be heard over the noise.
"Charioteers!" he shouted. "Attend your mark!"
He waved his hand and the starting signal dropped. The chariots roared to life. Hooves thundered against the dirt. The crowd cheered.
Almost immediately there was a loud nasty crack! I looked back in time to see the Apollo chariot flip over. The Hermes chariot had rammed into it—maybe by mistake, maybe not. The riders were thrown free, but their panicked horses dragged the golden chariot diagonally across the track.
The Hermes team, Travis and Connor Stoll, were laughing at their good luck, but not for long. The Apollo horses crashed into theirs, and the Hermes chariot flipped too, leaving a pile of broken wood and four rearing horses in the dust.
Two chariots down in the first twenty feet. Draco loved this sport.
Draco turned his attention back to the frontline of the race. Percy and Tyson were making good time, pulling ahead of Ares, but Annabeth's chariot was way ahead of them. She was already making her turn around the first post, her javelin man grinning and waving at us, shouting: "See ya!"
The Hephaestus chariot was starting to gain on them, too.
Beckendorf pressed a button, and a panel slid open on the side of his chariot.
"Sorry, Percy!" he yelled. Three sets of balls and chains shot straight toward our wheels.
They would've wrecked them completely if Tyson hadn't whacked them aside with a quick swipe of his pole. He gave the Hephaestus chariot a good shove and sent them skittering sideways while we pulled ahead.
"Nice work, Tyson!" Draco surprisingly could hear Percy yell.
"Birds!" Tyson cried.
"What?" Draco muttered.
Tyson pointed toward the woods and Draco saw what he was worried about. The pigeons had risen from the trees. They were spiraling like a huge tornado, heading toward the track.
Draco ran and yelled, "Everyone hide somewhere the birds are Stymphalian birds!They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away!" That got the campers running and went down the seats and batted away the birds that got to close to them.
Draco saw Percy and Tyson make their first turn, the wheels creaking under them, the chariot threatening to tip, but they were now only ten feet behind Annabeth. If Percy could just get a little closer, Tyson could use his pole...
Annabeth's fighter wasn't smiling now. He pulled a javelin from his collection and took aim at Percy. He was about to throw when Draco heard the screaming.
The pigeons were swarming—thousands of them dive-bombing the spectators in the stands, attacking the other chariots. Beckendorf was mobbed. His fighter tried to bat the birds away but he couldn't see anything. The chariot veered off course and plowed through the strawberry fields, the mechanical horses steaming.
In the Ares chariot, Clarisse barked an order to her fighter, who quickly threw a screen of camouflage netting over their basket. The birds swarmed around it, pecking and clawing at the fighter's hands as he tried to hold up the net, but Clarisse just gritted her teeth and kept driving. Her skeletal horses seemed immune to the distraction. The pigeons pecked uselessly at their empty eye sockets and flew through their rib cages, but the stallions kept right on running.
"Stymphalian birds!" Annabeth yelled. She slowed down and pulled her chariot alongside mine. "They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away!"
Annabeth rode right next to Percy. She shouted, "Heroes, to arms!" But Draco wasn't sure anyone could hear her over the screeching of the birds and the general chaos. Draco wasn't sure if he had a moment of panic and made the worst decision ever, but he started running towards them. Taking a dagger he had in his shorts out and swinging it at the birds that came close to him.
Draco slashed them out of the air and they exploded into dust and feathers, but there were still millions of them left. One nailed him in the back end and he almost jumped straight into one of the chariots.
Annabeth wasn't having much better luck. The closer they got to Draco, the thicker the cloud of birds became.
Some of the spectators were trying to fight back. The Athena campers were calling for shields. The archers from Apollo's cabin brought out their bows and arrows, ready to slay the menace, but with so many campers mixed in with the birds, it wasn't safe to shoot.
"Too many!" Percy yelled to Annabeth. "How do you get rid of them?" By this point Draco was able to jump into one of the empty chariots that the fighters left for safety. He slashed at the birds next to the horses and rode next to Annabeth and Percy.
Annabeth stabbed at a pigeon with her knife. "Hercules used noise! Brass bells! He scared them away with the most horrible sound he could—"
Draco's eyes got wide. "Percy, Annabeth... Chiron's collection!"
They understood instantly. "You think it'll work?" Percy asked.
Annabeth handed her fighter the reins and leaped from her chariot into Draco's like it was the easiest thing in the world. "To the Big House! It's our only chance!" She yelled.
Clarisse has just pulled across the finish line, completely unopposed, and seemed to notice for the first time how serious the bird problem was.
When she saw them driving away, she yelled, "You're running? The fight is here, cowards!"
She drew her sword and charged for the stands.
Percy urged their horses into a gallop. The chariot rumbled through the strawberry fields, across the volleyball pit, and lurched to a halt in front of the Big House. They ran inside, tearing down the hallway to Chiron's apartment.
His boom box was still on his nightstand. So were his favorite CDs. Percy grabbed the most repulsive one he could find, Annabeth snatched the boom box, and together they ran back outside.
Down at the track, the chariots were in flames. Wounded campers ran in every direction, with birds shredding their clothes and pulling out their hair, while Tantalus chased breakfast pastries around the stands, every once in a while yelling, "Everything's under control! Not to worry.'"
We pulled up to the finish line. Annabeth got the boom box ready. Draco prayed the batteries weren't dead.
He pressed PLAY and started up Chiron's favorite—the All-Time Greatest Hits of Dean Martin.
Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.
The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.
"Now!" shouted Annabeth. "Archers!"
With clear targets, Apollo's archers had flawless aim. Most of them could nock five or six arrows at once. Within minutes, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beaked pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon.
The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite's cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes pooped on.
"Bravo!" Tantalus said, but he wasn't looking at Draco, Percy, nor Annabeth. "We have our first winner!"
He walked to the finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse.
Then he turned and smiled at them. "And now to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race."
The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Annabeth, Tyson, Draco, and Percy hadn't disturbed them with their bad chariot driving.
This was so completely unfair, Percy told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut, which didn't help his mood. He sentenced them to kitchen patrol—scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so they had to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.
Tyson didn't mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and started scrubbing, but Annabeth, Draco, and Percy had to suffer through hours of hot, dangerous work, especially since there were tons of extra plates. Tantalus had ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory—a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.
The only good thing about their punishment was that it gave Annabeth and Percy a common enemy and lots of time to talk. After listening to Percy's dream about Grover again, she looked like she might be starting to believe them.
"If he's really found it," she murmured, "and if we could retrieve it—"
"Hold on," Percy said. "You act like this ... whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save the camp. What is it?"
"You didn't tell him?" She questioned Draco. "No, I was going to buy them the race and bird accident happened," he smiled sheepishly.
"I'll give you a hint. What do you get when you skin a ram?" Annabeth asked Percy.
"Messy?" Percy guesses.
Draco sighed. " A fleece. The coat of a ram is called a fleece. And if that ram happens to have golden wool—"
"The Golden Fleece. Are you serious?" Percy interrupted.
Draco scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. "Percy, remember the Gray Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mentioned Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told him how to find the Golden Fleece. You do know the story of Jason and the Argonauts?" Annabeth questioned.
"Yeah," Percy said. "That old movie with the clay skeletons."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh my gods, Percy! You are so hopeless."
"What?" Percy demanded.
"Just listen. The real story of the Fleece: there were these two children of Zeus, Cadmus and Europa, okay? They were about to get offered up as human sacrifices, when they prayed to Zeus to save them. So Zeus sent this magical flying ram with golden wool, which picked them up in Greece and carried them all the way to Colchis in Asia Minor. Well, actually it carried Cadmus. Europa fell off and died along the way, but that's not important," Draco explained.
"It was probably important to her," Percy said.
"The point is, when Cadmus got to Colchis, he sacrificed the golden ram to the gods and hung the Fleece in a tree in the middle of the kingdom. The Fleece brought prosperity to the land. Animals stopped getting sick. Plants grew better. Farmers had bumper crops. Plagues never visited. That's why Jason wanted the Fleece. It can revitalize any land where it's placed. It cures sickness, strengthens nature, cleans up pollution—"
"It could cure Thalia's tree," Annabeth said.
Draco nodded. "And it would totally strengthen the borders of Camp Half-Blood. But Percy, the Fleece has been missing for centuries. Tons of heroes have searched for it with no luck."
"But Grover found it," Percy said. "He went looking for Pan and he found the Fleece instead because they both radiate nature magic. It makes sense, Annabeth, Draco. We can rescue him and save the camp at the same time. It's perfect!"
Annabeth hesitated. "A little too perfect, don't you think? What if it's a trap?"
"What choice do we have?" Percy asked. "Are you going to help me rescue Grover or not?"
"I will," Draco said as Annabeth glanced at Tyson, who'd lost interest in our conversation and was happily making toy boats out of cups and spoons in the lava.
"Percy," Annabeth said under her breath, "we'll have to fight a Cyclops. Polyphemus, the worst of the Cyclopes. And there's only one place his island could be. The Sea of Monsters."
"Where's that?"
Draco and Annabeth stared at Percy, "The Sea of Monsters. The same sea Odysseus sailed through, and Jason, and Aeneas, and all the others."
"You mean the Mediterranean?" Percy questioned.
"No. Well, yes ... but no," Draco trailed off.
"Another straight answer. Thanks," Percy said sassily.
"Look, Percy, the Sea of Monsters is the sea all heroes sail through on their adventures. It used to be in the Mediterranean, yes. But like everything else, it shifts locations as the West's center of power shifts," Draco said.
"Like Mount Olympus being above the Empire State Building," Percy said. "And Hades being under Los Angeles."
"Right," Annabeth agreed.
"But a whole sea full of monsters—how could you hide something like that? Wouldn't the mortals notice weird things happening ... like, ships getting eaten and stuff?" Percy asked.
"Of course they notice. They don't understand, but they know something is strange about that part of the ocean. The Sea of Monsters is off the east coast of the U.S. now, just northeast of Florida. The mug-mortals even have a name for it," Draco said stopping slightly at his mess up.
"The Bermuda Triangle?" Percy asked.
"Exactly," Annabeth said.
"Okay ... so at least we know where to look," Percy said, scrubbing at some of the stuck grease on the plate.
"It's still a huge area, Percy. Searching for one tiny island in monster-infested waters—" Annabeth got cut off.
"Hey, I'm the son of the sea god. This is my home turf. How hard can it be?" Percy asked, shrugging.
Draco raised an eyebrow while Annabeth knit her eyebrows. "We'll have to talk to Tantalus, get approval for a quest. He'll say no."
"Not if we tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody. The whole camp will hear.
They'll pressure him. He won't be able to refuse," Percy concludes.
"Maybe." A little bit of hope crept into Annabeth's voice. "We'd better get these dishes done. Hand me the lava spray gun, will you, Draco?"
That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. They all sat around a semicircle of stone steps, singing halfheartedly and watching the bonfire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.
They did all the standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land." The bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, Draco had seen it twenty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallows burst into the flames. Tonight, the fire was only five feet high, barely warm, and the flames were the color of lint.
Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Then he gave Tantalus a distasteful look and headed back toward the Big House.
When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!"
He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames.
Tantalus turned back toward them, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."
"Sir," Percy said.
Tantalus's eye twitched. "Our kitchen boy has something to say?"
Some of the Ares campers snickered, but Draco knew Percy wasn't going to let anybody embarrass him into silence. He stood and looked at Annabeth. Thank the gods, she stood up with them.
Percy said, "We have an idea to save the camp."
Dead silence, but Draco could tell they'd gotten everybody's interest, because the campfire flared bright yellow.
"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—"
"The Golden Fleece," Percy said. "We know where it is."
The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop them, Percy blurted out his dream about Grover and Polyphemus's island. Annabeth and Draco stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincing coming from her, after all she was a daughter of Athena.
"The Fleece can save the camp," she concluded. "I'm certain of it."
"Nonsense," said Tantalus. "We don't need saving."
Everybody stared at him until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.
"Besides," he added quickly, "the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."
"Yes, I would," Percy said.
Annabeth leaned toward Percy and whispered, "You would?"
Percy nodded, and said, "30, 31, 75, 12,"
"Ooo-kay," Tantalus said. "Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers."
"They're sailing coordinates," Percy said. "Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies."
Even Annabeth looked impressed. "30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. He's right! The Gray Sisters gave us those coordinates. That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!"
"Wait just a minute," Tantalus said.
But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"
The flames rose higher.
"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted.
"Fine!" Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. "You brats want me to assign a quest?"
"YES!"
"Very well," he agreed. "I shall authorize a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying."
Draco's heart filled with excitement. He wasn't going to let Tantalus scare me. This was what they needed to do. They were going to save Grover and the camp. Nothing would stop them.
"I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!" Tantalus announced. "And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champion is obvious."
Tantalus looked at Annabeth, Draco, and Percy as if he wanted to flay them alive. "The champion should be one who has earned the camp's respect, who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. You shall lead this quest ... Clarisse!"
The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering,
"CLARISSE! CLARISSE!"
Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chest swelled with pride. "I accept the quest!"
"Wait!" Percy shouted. "Grover is my friend. The dream came to me."
"Sit down!" yelled one of the Ares campers. "You had your chance last summer!"
"Yeah, he just wants to be in the spotlight again!" another said.
Clarisse glared at me. "I accept the quest!" she repeated. "I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!"
The Ares campers cheered even louder. Draco and Annabeth protested, and the other Athena campers joined in. Everybody else started taking sides—shouting and arguing and throwing marshmallows. Draco thought it was going to turn into a full-fledged s'more war until Tantalus shouted, "Silence, you brats!"
His tone stunned even Draco.
"Sit down!" he ordered. "And I will tell you a ghost story."
He didn't know what he was up to, but they all moved reluctantly back to their seats. The evil aura radiating from Tantalus was as strong as any monster or wizard Draco had ever faced.
"Once upon a time there was a mortal king who was beloved of the Gods!" Tantalus put his hand on his chest, and Draco got the feeling he was talking about himself.
"This king," he said, "was even allowed to feast on Mount Olympus. But when he tried to take some ambrosia and nectar back to earth to figure out the recipe—just one little doggie bag, mind you—the gods punished him. They banned him from their halls forever! His own people mocked him! His children scolded him! And, oh yes, campers, he had horrible children. Children—just—like— you."
He pointed a crooked finger at several people in the audience, including Draco.
"Do you know what he did to his ungrateful children?" Tantalus asked softly. "Do you know how he paid back the gods for their cruel punishment? He invited the Olympians to a feast at his palace, just to show there were no hard feelings. No one noticed that his children were missing. And when he served the gods dinner, my dear campers, can you guess what was in the stew?"
No one dared answer. The firelight glowed dark blue, reflecting evilly on Tantalus's crooked face.
"Oh, the gods punished him in the afterlife," Tantalus croaked. "They did indeed. But he'd had his moment of satisfaction, hadn't he? His children never again spoke back to him or questioned his authority. And do you know what? Rumor has it that the king's spirit now dwells at this very camp, waiting for a chance to take revenge on ungrateful, rebellious children. And so ... are there any more complaints, before we send Clarisse off on her quest?"
Silence.
Tantalus nodded at Clarisse. "The Oracle, my dear. Go on."
She shifted uncomfortably, like even she didn't want glory at the price of being Tantalus's pet. "Sir—"
"Go!" he snarled.
She bowed awkwardly and hurried off toward the Big House.
"What about you, Percy Jackson?" Tantalus asked. "No comments from our dishwasher?"
Percy didn't say anything. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of punishing him again.
"Good," Tantalus said. "And let me remind everyone— no one leaves this camp without my permission. Anyone who tries ... well, if they survive the attempt, they will be expelled forever, but it won't come to that. The harpies will be enforcing curfew from now on, and they are always hungry! Good night, my dear campers. Sleep well."
With a wave of Tantalus's hand, the fire was extinguished, and the campers trailed off toward their cabins in the dark.
Draco headed to the Hermes cabin, his sleeping bag was squashed by another camper that was next to him. He grumbled angrily and grabbed his sleeping bag along with his bag and left the cabin. He wasn't in the mood to be squished to death in his sleep he'd rather sleep outside, even if it gets him in trouble for sneaking out after curfew. Draco carefully made his way to the beach it was the place that was searched the least, and had a gorgeous view at night. He set his sleeping bag and bag and sat down on it. Draco felt someone else's presence and turned around, there he found Percy with a blue blanket and a six- pack of cokes. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?" He asked. "Nah, too much on my mind," Percy said handing Draco a can of coke. Draco said a small thanks and opened the van sipping it. "I wished Poseidon would talk to me, give me some advice or something," Percy said. Draco glanced at Percy them back at the ocean. He said nothing and just went and laid down with Percy on his blanket.
He searched the constellations he knew where their in the summer. It was one of the things his mother did teach him herself, he was named after one after all. He started to think the names of the constellations—Sagittarius, Hercules, Corona Borealis—when somebody said, "Beautiful, aren't they?" Draco along with Percy almost spewed soda.
Standing right next to them was a guy in nylon running shorts and a New York City Marathon T-shirt. He was slim and fit, with salt-and-pepper hair and a sly smile. He looked kind of familiar, but Draco couldn't figure out why. It took Draco a while before he he stuttered, "L-Lord Hermes?"
Hermes just smiled and asked, "May I join you? I haven't sat down in ages."
"Uh, sure," Percy said, just as dumbfounded as Draco. Why was a God here?
"Your hospitality does you credit. Oh, and Coca-Cola! May I?" Hermes asked. Draco nodded hesitantly.
He sat at the other end of the blanket, popped a soda and took a drink. "Ah ... that hits the spot. Peace and quiet at—"
A cell phone went off in his pocket.
The messenger sighed. He pulled out his phone and two snakes slithered out of his shirt into his hand. "I've got to take this. Just a sec ..." Then into the phone: "Hello?"
He listened. The mini-snakes writhed up and down the antenna right next to his ear.
"Yeah," the messenger said. "Listen—I know, but... I don't care if he is chained to a rock with vultures pecking at his liver, if he doesn't have a tracking number, we can't locate his package... A gift to humankind, great... You know how many of those we deliver—Oh, never mind. Listen, just refer him to Eris in customer service. I gotta go."
He hung up. "Sorry. The overnight express business is just booming. Now, as I was saying—"
"You have snakes on your phone," Percy pointed out.
"What? Oh, they don't bite. Say hello, George and Martha," the messenger said.
Hello, George and Martha, a raspy male voice said inside Draco's head.
Don't be sarcastic, said a female voice.
Why not? George demanded. I do all the real work.
"Oh, let's not go into that again!" The messenger slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Now, where were we ... Ah, yes. Peace and quiet."
He crossed his ankles and stared up at the stars. "Been a long time since I've gotten to relax. Ever since the telegraph—rush, rush, rush. Do you have a favorite constellation, Percy, Draco?"
"Uh, I like Hercules," Percy said.
"Why?" The messenger God asked.
"Well ... because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better," Percy said.
The messenger chuckled. "Not because he was strong and famous and all that?"
"No," Percy answered shortly.
"What about you Draco? No never mind Draconis right?" The messenger asked. Draco only nodded, he wasn't lying entirely he did like dragons.
"You both are interesting young man. And so, what now?" The messenger asked.
Before Draco could even think of something to talk about, Martha the snake's muffled voice came from his pocket: I have Demeter on line two.
"Not now," the messenger said. "Tell her to leave a message."
She's not going to like that. The last time you put her off, all the flowers in the floral delivery division wilted.
"Just tell her I'm in a meeting!" The messenger rolled his eyes. "Sorry again, Percy, Draco. You were saying ..."
"Um ... who are you, exactly?" Percy asked. Draco nudged Percy, "That's Lord Hermes, Luke's father," Draco hissed at Percy.
Hermes laughed a bit and then took out his phone. The phone glowed a brilliant blue. It stretched into a three-foot-long wooden staff with dove wings sprouting out the top. George and Martha, now full-sized green snakes, coiled together around the middle. It was a caduceus, the symbol of Cabin Eleven.
The god pursed his lips. He stuck his caduceus in the sand like an umbrella pole. "'Luke's father.' Normally, that's not the first way people introduce me. God of thieves, yes. God of messengers and travelers, if they wish to be kind."
God of thieves works, George said.
Oh, don't mind George. Martha flicked her tongue at me. He's just bitter because Hermes likes me best.
He does not!
Does too!
"Behave, you two," Hermes warned, "or I'll turn you back into a cell phone and set you on vibrate! Now, Percy, Draco, you still haven't answered my question. What do you intend to do about the quest?"
"I—I don't have permission to go," Percy stuttered. Draco stayed quite.
"No, indeed. Will that stop you?" The Od asked.
"We want to go. We have to save Grover," both males said at the same time.
Hermes smiled. "I knew a boy once ... oh, younger than you by far. A mere baby, really."
Here we go again, George said. Always talking about himself Quiet! Martha snapped. Do you want to get set on vibrate?
Hermes ignored them. "One night, when this boy's mother wasn't watching, he sneaked out of their cave and stole some cattle that belonged to Apollo."
"Did he get blasted to tiny pieces?" Percy asked.
"Hmm ... no. Actually, everything turned out quite well. To make up for his theft, the boy gave Apollo an instrument he'd invented—a lyre. Apollo was so enchanted with the music that he forgot all about being angry."
"So what's the moral?" Percy asked. Draco face-slapped himself, shaking his head.
"The moral?" Hermes asked. "Goodness, you act like it's a fable. It's a true story. Does truth have a moral?"
"Um ..." Percy looked aside not having and answer.
"How about this: stealing is not always bad?" Hermes asked.
"I don't think my mom would like that moral," Percy said. Draco laughed and said, "Depends in what I need it for."
Rats are delicious, suggested George.
What does that have to do with the story? Martha demanded.
Nothing, George said. But I'm hungry.
"I've got it," Hermes said. "Young people don't always do what they're told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes they escape punishment. How's that?"
"You're saying I should go anyway," Peecy said, "even without permission."
Hermes's eyes twinkled. "Martha, may I have the first package, please?"
Martha opened her mouth ... and kept opening it until it was as wide as Percy's arm. She belched out a stainless steel canister—an old-fashioned lunch box thermos with a black plastic top. The sides of the thermos were enameled with red and yellow Ancient Greek scenes—a hero killing a lion; a hero lifting up Cerberus, the three-headed dog.
"That's Hercules," Percy said. "But how—"
"Never question a gift," Hermes chided. "This is a collector's item from Hercules Busts Heads. The first season."
"Hercules Busts Heads?" Percy asked.
"Great show." Hermes sighed. "Back before Hephaestus-TV was all reality programming. Of course, the thermos would be worth much more if I had the whole lunch box—"
Or if it hadn't been in Martha's mouth, George added.
I'll get you for that. Martha began chasing him around the caduceus.
"Wait a minute," Percy said. "This is a gift?"
"One of two," Hermes said. "Go on, pick it up."
Draco almost dropped it because it was freezing cold on one side and burning hot on the other.
The weird thing was, when He turned the thermos, the side facing the ocean— north—was always the cold side...
"It's a compass!" Percy said.
Hermes looked surprised. "Very clever. I never thought of that. But its intended use is a bit more dramatic. Uncap it, and you will release the winds from the four corners of the earth to speed you on your way. Not now! And please, when the time comes, only unscrew the lid a tiny bit. The winds are a bit like me—always restless. Should all four escape at once ... ah, but I'm sure you'll be careful. And now my second gift. George?"
She's touching me, George complained as he and Martha slithered around the pole.
"She's always touching you," Hermes said. "You're intertwined. And if you don't stop that, you'll get knotted again!
The snakes stopped wrestling.
George unhinged his jaw and coughed up a little plastic bottle filled with chewable vitamins.
"You're kidding," Percy said. "Are those Minotaur-shaped?"
Hermes picked up the bottle and rattled it. "The lemon ones, yes. The grape ones are Furies, I think. Or are they hydras? At any rate, these are potent. Don't take one unless you really, really need it."
"How will we know if we really, really need it?" Draco asked.
"You'll know, believe me. Nine essential vitamins, minerals, amino acids ... oh, everything you need to feel yourself again."
He tossed Percy the bottle.
"Um, thanks," Percy said. "But Lord Hermes, why are you helping me?"
He gave me a melancholy smile. "Perhaps because I hope that you can save many people on this quest, Percy. Not just your friend Grover."
Draco stared at him. "You don't mean ... Luke?"
Hermes didn't answer.
"Look," Percy said. "Lord Hermes, I mean, thanks and everything, but you might as well take back your gifts. Luke can't be saved. Even if I could find him ... he told me he wanted to tear down Olympus stone by stone. He betrayed everybody he knew. He—he hates you especially."
Hermes gazed up at the stars. "My dear young cousin, if there's one thing I've learned over the eons, it's that you can't give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it. It doesn't matter if they hate you, or embarrass you, or simply don't appreciate your genius for inventing the Internet—"
"You invented the Internet?" Percy interrupted.
It was my idea, Martha said.
Rats are delicious, George said.
"It was my idea!" Hermes said. "I mean the Internet, not the rats. But that's not the point. Percy, do you understand what I'm saying about family?"
"I—I'm not sure," Percy stampers.
"You will some day." Hermes got up and brushed the sand off his legs. "In the meantime, I must be going."
You have sixty calls to return, Martha said.
And one thousand-thirty-eight e-mails, George added. Not counting the offers for online discount ambrosia.
"And you, Draco, Percy," Hermes said, "have a shorter deadline than both realize to complete your quest. Your friends should be coming right about ... now."
Draco heard Annabeth's voice calling their name from the sand dunes. Tyson, too, was shouting from a little bit farther away.
"I hope I packed well for you," Hermes said. "I do have some experience with travel."
He snapped his fingers and three yellow duffel bags appeared at my feet. "Waterproof, of course. If you ask nicely, your father should be able to help you reach the ship."
"Ship?" Draco asked.
Hermes pointed. Sure enough, a big cruise ship was cutting across Long Island Sound, its white-and-gold lights glowing against the dark water.
"Wait," Percy said. "I don't understand any of this. I haven't even agreed to go!"
"I'd make up your mind in the next five minutes, if I were you," Hermes advised. "That's when the harpies will come to eat you. Now, good night, cousin, and dare I say it? May the gods go with you."
He opened his hand and the caduceus flew into it.
Good luck, Martha told me.
Bring me back a rat, George said.
The caduceus changed into a cell phone and Hermes slipped it into his pocket.
He jogged off down the beach. Twenty paces away, he shimmered and vanished, leaving them alone with a thermos, a bottle of chewable vitamins, and five minutes to make an impossible decision.
Both males were staring at the waves when Annabeth and Tyson found them.
"What's going on?" Annabeth asked. "I heard you calling for help!"
"Me, too!" Tyson said. "Heard you yell, 'Bad things are attacking!'"
"We didn't call you guys," Percy said. "We're fine."
"But then who ..." Annabeth noticed the four yellow duffel bags, then the thermos Draco was holding and the bottle of vitamins Percy was holding. "What—"
"Just listen," Percy said. "We don't have much time."
Percy told them about their conversation with Hermes. By the time he was finished, Draco could hear screeching in the distance—patrol harpies picking up our scent.
"Percy, Draco," Annabeth said, "we have to do the quest."
"We'll get expelled, you know. Trust me, I'm an expert at getting expelled," Percy said.
"So? If we fail, there won't be any camp to come back to," Annabeth said.
"Yeah, but you promised Chiron—"
"I promised I'd keep you from danger. I can only do that by coming with you! Tyson can stay behind and tell them—"
"I want to go," Tyson said.
"No!" Annabeth's voice sounded close to panic. "I mean ... Percy, Draco, come on. You guys know that's impossible."
Annabeth and Tyson both looked at them, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, the cruise ship was getting farther and farther away.
The thing was, part of Draco didn't want Tyson along. Tyson was new to this Demi-God lifestyle and he didn't want him to be hurt. Plus, he didn't know how much help he'd be, or how they would keep him safe. Sure, he was strong, but Tyson was a little kid in Cyclops terms, maybe seven or eight years old, mentally. Draco could see him freaking out and starting to cry while we were trying to sneak past a monster or something. He'd get them all killed.
On the other hand, the sound of the harpies was getting closer...
"We can't leave him," Percy decided. "Tantalus will punish him for us being gone."
"Percy," Annabeth said, trying to keep her cool, "we're going to Polyphemus's island!
Polyphemus is an S-i-k ... a C-y-k..." She stamped her foot in frustration. "C-Y-C-L-O-P-S," Draco spelled for her. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, and they could've been there all night while she tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!"
"Tyson can go," Draco insisted, "if he wants to."
Tyson clapped his hands. "Want to!"
Annabeth gave Draco and Percy the evil eye, but he guess she could tell they weren't going to change their mind.
Or maybe she just knew we didn't have time to argue.
"All right," she said. "How do we get to that ship?"
"Hermes said my father would help," Percy said.
"Well then, Seaweed Brain? What are you waiting for?"
Draco and Annabeth both waited for Percy.
"Urn, Dad?" he called. "How's it going?"
"Percy!" Annabeth whispered. "We're in a hurry!"
"We need your help," Percy called a little louder. "We need to get to that ship, like, before we get eaten and stuff, so ..."
At first, nothing happened. Waves crashed against the shore like normal. The harpies sounded like they were right behind the sand dunes. Then, about a hundred yards out to sea, three white lines appeared on the surface. They moved fast toward the shore, like claws ripping through the ocean.
As they neared the beach, the surf burst apart and the heads of three white stallions reared out of the waves.
Tyson caught his breath. "Fish ponies!"
He was right. As the creatures pulled themselves onto the sand, Draco saw that they were only horses in the front; their back halves were silvery fish bodies, with glistening scales and rainbow tail fins.
"Hippocampi!" Annabeth said. "They're beautiful."
The nearest one whinnied in appreciation and nuzzled Annabeth. "They sure are," Draco said smiling as one nuzzled him too.
"We'll admire them later," Percy said. "Come on!"
"There!" a voice screeched behind us. "Bad children out of cabins! Snack time for lucky harpies!"
Five of them were fluttering over the top of the dunes—plump little hags with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies. They reminded Draco of miniature house elves who'd been crossbred with dodo birds. They weren't very fast, thank the gods, but they were vicious if they caught you.
"Tyson!" Percy said. "Grab a duffel bag!"
He was still staring at the hippocampi with his mouth hanging open, "Tyson!"
"Uh?"
"Come on!"
With Annabeth's help Draco and Percy got him moving. They gathered the bags and mounted their steeds.
Poseidon must've known Tyson was one of the passengers, because one hippocampus was much larger than the other two—just right for carrying a Cyclops.
"Giddyup!" Percy said. His hippocampus turned and plunged into the waves. Draco's, Annabeth's, and Tyson's followed right behind.
The harpies cursed at them, wailing for their snacks to come back, but the hippocampi raced over the water at the speed of Jet Skis. The harpies fell behind, and soon the shore of Camp Half-Blood was nothing but a dark smudge. Draco wondered if he'd ever see the place again. But right now they had other problems.
The cruise ship was now looming in front of them—our ride toward Florida and the Sea of Monsters.
Riding the hippocampus was even easier than riding a pegasus. They zipped along with the wind in our faces, speeding through the waves so smooth and steady Draco hardly needed to hold on at all.
As they got closer to the cruise ship, Draco realized just how huge it was. He felt as though he were looking up at Hogwarts back in his first year again. The white hull was at least ten stories tall, topped with another dozen levels of decks with brightly lit balconies and portholes. The ship's name was painted just above the bow line in black letters, lit with a spotlight. He quickly decipher it:
PRINCESS ANDROMEDA
Attached to the bow was a huge masthead—a three-story-tall woman wearing a white Greek chiton, sculpted to look as if she were chained to the front of the ship. She was young and beautiful, with flowing black hair, but her expression was one of absolute terror. Why anybody would want a screaming princess on the front of their vacation ship, Draco had no idea.
Draco remembered the myth about Andromeda and how she had been chained to a rock by her own parents as a sacrifice to a sea monster. Maybe she'd been an unwanted child and was only born because abortion wasn't an option back in the day. Anyway, Percy's namesake, Perseus, had saved her just in time and turned the sea monster to stone using the head of Medusa.
The original Perseus was one of the only heroes in the Greek myths who got a happy ending. The others died—betrayed, mauled, mutilated, poisoned, or cursed by the gods.
"How do we get aboard?" Annabeth shouted over the noise of the waves, but the hippocampi seemed to know what they needed. They skimmed along the starboard side of the ship, riding easily through its huge wake, and pulled up next to a service ladder riveted to the side of the hull.
"You first," Percy told Annabeth.
She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and grabbed the bottom rung. Once she'd hoisted herself onto the ladder, her hippocampus whinnied a farewell and dove underwater.
Annabeth began to climb. Percy let her get a few rungs up, then followed her. Draco then grabbed his bags and followed them.
Finally it was just Tyson in the water. His hippocampus was treating him to 360 aerials and backward ollies, and Tyson was laughing so hysterically, the sound echoed up the side of the ship.
"Tyson, shhh!" Percy said. "Come on, big guy!"
"Can't we take Rainbow?" he asked, his smile fading.
Percy stared at him. "Rainbow?"
The hippocampus whinnied as if he liked his new name.
"Um, we have to go," Percy said. "Rainbow ... well, he can't climb ladders."
Tyson sniffled. He buried his face in the hippocampus's mane. "I will miss you, Rainbow!"
The hippocampus made a neighing sound Draco could've sworn was crying.
"Maybe we'll see him again sometime," Percy suggested.
"Oh, please!" Tyson said, perking up immediately. "Tomorrow!"
Percy didn't make any promises, but he finally convinced Tyson to say his farewells and grab hold of the ladder. With a final sad whinny, Rainbow the hippocampus did a back-flip and dove into the sea.
The ladder led to a maintenance deck stacked with yellow lifeboats. There was a set of locked double doors, which Annabeth managed to pry open with her knife and a fair amount of cursing in Ancient Greek.
Draco figured they'd have to sneak around, being stowaways and all, but after checking a few corridors and peering over a balcony into a huge central promenade lined with closed shops, he began to realize there was nobody to hide from. They passed forty or fifty cabin doors and heard no sound behind any of them.
"It's a ghost ship," Draco murmured.
Aaaannnd done! Yay our young heroes quest finally begins! I hope you don't mind that Draco tagged along with Percy, but it'll honestly been boring and hard to write him out of the quest. So, expect him to be added on other quests as well~ anyways see you on the next chapter!
-D