A/N: I don't own the rights to any of the Percy Jackson series or it's characters. That right gaoes to Rick Riordan. I also don't own the rights to Animorph including it's title.

I am, however, the person who posted 'The Tales of...' series.

This is not a crossover of the Percy Jackson series with the book/tv series Animorph, despite what you might think from the title. I just thought it be a proper name for the ability to turn into animals since that's why the tv/book series 'Animorph' was called that in the first place.

Also, ever since I got my latest Laptop I been stuck using Google Docs and Copy and paste my chapters and for some reason when I save what I paste any formats I made is turn to normal format. I even have to bold the chapter titles, but as I'm sure you noticed sometimes I forget to do that. So anything I normally itallilize like thoughts come out normal text. A/N at the beginning and end of each keep the format changes because I add them without copying and pasting from google doc.

If you haven't read this yet, read:

Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Titan's Curse
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Battle of the Labyrinth
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Stolen Chariot
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Sword of Hades
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Bronze Dragon
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Last Olympian
Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Staff of Hermes

Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians

The Singer of Apollo

My name is Perseus James Jackson, but you can call me Percy, and I'm a demigod. My dad, Poseidon, is the lord of the sea, which sounds cool and it does come in handy from time to time, but it also means my life is filled with monster attacks and annoying Greek gods who tend to show up on the subway or in the middle of math class or when I'm taking a shower (long story. Don't ask.)

Anyways, I came to learn the bigger reputation you have on Olympus, the more likely a god would come to you for a quest, and I had quite a reputation ever since my friends and I saved Olympus in the last Titan War.

So when Hermes told Annabeth and me it might be a while before I hear from him again (after we retrieved his caduceus from the fire breathing giant Cacus), I had hopes that meant a break from the gods.

I should have known better than to wish such stuff. Not only it doesn't come true but it comes back and bite back hard.

No, it wasn't Hermes that needed my help. It was Apollo-god of music, archery, and poetry. But it doesn't make it any better.

This particular disaster started when I brought my friend Grover some aluminum cans for his birthday,

...

Grover and his girlfriend, Juniper were spending the day in Prospect Park in Brooklyn, doing naturey stuff like dancing with the local tree nymphs and serenading the squirrels. Grover's a satyr. That's his idea of fun.

I figured maybe I'd get a day off from the craziness for Grover's birthday, but of course I was wrong.

Juniper seemed to be having an especially good time. While Grover and I sat on the bench together, she frolicked across Long Meadow with the other nature spirits, her chlorophyll-tinted eyes glinting in the sunlight. Since she is a dryad, Juniper'[s life source is tied to a juniper tree back on Long Island, but Grover explained that she can take short trips away from home as long as she keeps a handful of fresh juniper leaves in her pockets. I didn't want to ask what would happen if something happen to those leaves.

When Grover told me his plans earlier this week, I was hoping to make it a double date out of it too with my girlfriend Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. I didn't think Grover and Juniper would mind as Annabeth and Grover were also friends as was Juniper. But Annabeth had made plans to visit her dad in San Francisco, so no double date.

So anyway, we hung out for a while, talking and enjoying the nice weather. I gave Grover his aluminum cans, which may sound like a lame gift, but that's his favorite snack.

He happily munched on the cans while the nymphs started discussing what party games we should play. Grover pulled a blindfold out of his pocket and suggested Pin the Tail on the Human, which made me kinda nervous since I was the only human.

Then, without warning, the sunlight brightened. The air turned uncomfortably hot. Twenty feet away, the grass hissed and a cloud of steam whooshed up like somebody had opened a big pressing machine at a Laundromat. The steamed cleared, and standing in front of us was the god Apollo.

Gods can look like anything they want, but Apollo always seemed to go for that I-just-auditioned-for-a-boy-band look. Today he was rocking pencil thin jeans, a white muscle shirt, and gilded Ray-Ban sunglasses. His wavy blond hair glistened with product. When he smiled the dryads squealed and giggled.

"On, no," Grover murmured. "This can't be good."

"Percy Jackson!" Apollo beamed at me. "And, um, your goat friend-"

"His name is Grover," I said. "And we're kind of duty, Lord Apollo. It's Grover's birthday."

"Happy birthday!" Apollo said. "I'm so glad you're taking the day off. That means you two have time to help me with a small problem!"

...

Naturally, the problem wasn't small.

Apollo led Grover and me away from the party so we could talk in private. Juniper didn't want to let Grover go, but she couldn't argue with a god. Grover promised to come back safely. I hoped it was a promise he'd be able to keep.

When we got to the edge of the woods, Apollo faced us. "Allow me to introduce the Chryseae Celedones."

The god snapped his fingers. More steam erupted from the ground, and three golden women appeared in front of us. When I say golden, I mean they were literally gold. Their metallic skin glittered. Their sleeveless gowns were made from enough gilded fabric to finance a bailout. Their golden hair was braided and piled on top of their heads in a sort of classical beehive hairdo. They were uniformly beautiful, and uniformly terrifying.

I'd seen living statues-automatons-many times before. In fact, I leaned last summer Manhattan is full of them. Beautiful or not, they almost always tried to kill me.

"Uh..." I took a step back. "What did you say these were? Krissy Kelly something?"

"Chryseae Celedones," Apollo said. "Golden singers. They're my backup band."

I looked at Grover wondering if this was some kind of joke.

Grover wasn't laughing. His mouth hung open in amazement, as if the golden ladies were the largest, tastiest aluminum cans he'd ever seen. "I-I didn't think they were real."

Apollo smiled. "Well, it's been a few centuries since I brought them out. If they perform too often, you know, their novelty wears off. They used to live at my temple in Delphi. Man, th e y could rock t heat place. Now I only use t hem for special occasions. Such as tonight. I've got a concert on Mount Olympus. Everyone is going to be there! Then Nine Muses are opening, and I'm performing a mix of old favorites and new material. I mean, it's not like I need the Celedones. My solo career had been great. But people will expect to hear some of my classic hits with the girls: 'Daphne on my Mind,' 'Stairway to Olympus,' 'Sweet Home Atlantis.' It's going to be awesome!"

I tried not to look nauseous. I'd heard Apollo's poetry before, and if his music was even half as bad, this concert was going to blow hard than Aeolus the wind god.

"Great," I said halfheartedly. "So what's the problem?"

Apollo smile faded. "Listen."

He turned to his golden singers and raised his hands like a conductor. On cue, they sang in harmony: "Laaaa!"

It was only one chord, but it filled me with bliss. I suddenly couldn't remember where I was or what I was doing. If the golden singers had decided to tear me to pieces at that moment, I wouldn't have resisted, as long as they kept singing. It be difficult as my skin was invulnerable due to my swim in the River Styx, but it didn't matter to me, except that sound.

Then the golden girls went silent. The feeling passed. Their faces return to beautiful, impassive metal.

"That..." I swallowed. "That was amazing."

"Amazing!" Apollo wrinkled his nose. There are only three of them. Their harmonies sound empty. I can't perform without the full quartet."

Grover was weeping with joy. "The y're so beautiful. They're perfect!"

I was kind of glad Juniper wasn't within earshot, since she's the jealous type.

Apollo crossed his tan arms. "They're not perfect, Mr. Satyr. I need all four or the concert will be ruined. Unfortunately, my fourth Celedon went rogue this morning. I can't find her anywhere."

I looked at the three golden automatons, staring at Apollo. "So what happened to cause the fourth one to go rogue?" I asked.

Apollo made another conductor wave, and th e singers sighed in three-part harmony. The sound was so mournful my heart sank into my gut. At that moment, I felt sure I'd never be happy again. Then just as quickly, the feeling dissipated.

"They're out of warranty," the god explained. "Hephaestus made them for me back in the old days, and they worked fine... until the day after their two-year-waranty expired. Then, naturally, WHAM! The fourth one goes haywire and runs off to the big city."Of course I tried to complain to Hephaestus, but he's all, Well, did y ou h ave m y Protection Plus package? And I'm like, I didn't want your stupid extended warranty! And he acs as if it's my fault the Celedon broke, and says if I'd bought the Plus, package, I could've had a dedicated service hot line, but=="

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupted. I really didn't want to get in the middle of a god-versus-god argument. I'd been there too many times and unwillingly part of one. "So let me get this straight, you need us to search for your Celedon in the city?"

"Yes!" Apollo said. "That's what heroes are for."

I didn't argue there. Mostly because I had a similar argument already with Hermes. Even if the gods had the time, they can't go destroying the city looking for their lost items (and the gods will destroy something if they have to look for their lost items). So it's just easier and less damage to send heroes in their place

"I assume the missing Celedon is roaming the Theater District, looking for a suitable place to audition. Celedones have the usual starlet dreams-being discovered, headlining a Broadway musical, that sort of thing. Most of the time I can keep their ambitions under control. I mean, I can't have them upstaging me, can I? But I'm sure without me around she thinks she's the next Katy Perry. You two need to get her before she causes any problems. And hurry! THe concert is tonight is a large island. Do this as a favor. Not just for me, but for all those mortals in Manhattan."

"Oh," Grover's voice got very small. "Oh, no..."

"What?" I demanded. "What oh, no?"

Years ago, Grover created a magic empathy link between us (another long story) and we could sense each other's emotions. It wasn't exactly mind reading, but I could tell he was terrified.

"Percy," he said, "if that Celedon starts singing in public, in the middle of afternoon rush hour-"

"She'll cause no end of havoc," Apollo said. "She might sing a love song, or a lullaby, or patriotic war tune, and whatever the mortals hear..."

I shuddered. One sigh from the golden girls had plunged me into despair, even with Apollo controlling their power. I imagined a rogue Celedon busting into a song in a crowded city-putting people to sleep, or making them fall in love, or urging them to fight.

"She has to be stopped," I agreed. "But why us?"

"I like you!" Apollo grinned. "You've faced the Sirens before. This isn't too different. Just put some wax in your ears. Besides your friend Grover here is a satyr. He has natural resistance to magical music. Plus he can play the lyre."

"What lyre?"

Apollo snapped his fingers. Suddenly Grover was holding the weirdest musical instrument I'd ever seen. The base was a hollowed out tortoise shell, which made me feel really bad for the tortoise. Two polished wooden arms stuck out one side like bull's horns, with a bar across the top and seven strings stretching from the bar to the base of the shell it looked like a combination of a harp, banjo, and dead turtle.

"Oh!" Grover almost dropped the lyre. "I couldn't! This is your-"

"Yes," Apollo agreed cheerfully. "That my own personal lyre. Of course if you damage it, I'll incinerate you, but I'm sure you'll be careful! You can play the lyre, can't you?"

"Um..." Grover plucked a few notes that sounded like a funeral dirge.

"Keep practicing," Apollo said. "You'll need the lyre's magic to capture the Celedon. Have Percy distract her while you play."

"Distract her," I repeated.

This quest was sounding worse and worse. I didn't see how a tortoiseshell harp could defeat a golden automaton, but Apollo clapped me on the shoulder like everything was settled.

"Excellent!" He said. "I'll meet you at the Empire State Building at sunset. Bring me the Celedon. One way or another I'll persuade Hephaestus to fix her. Just don't be late. I can't keep my audience waiting. And remember, not a scratch on that lyre."

Then the sun god and his golden backup singers disappeared in a cloud of steam.

"Happy Birthday to me," Grover whimpered, and plucked a sour note on the harp.

...

We caught the subway to Times Square. We figured that would be a good place to start looking. It was in the middle of the Theater District and full of weird street performers and about a billion tourist, so it was the natural place for a golden diva to get some attention for herself.

Grover hadn't bothered disguising himself. He wore a white T-shirt that read WHAT WOULD PAN DO? The tips of his horns stick out from his curly hair. Usually he wore jeans over his shaggy legs and specially fitted shoes over his hooves, but today from the waist down he was au naturel goat.

I doubt it would matter. Most mortals can't see through the Mist, which hides the true appearance of monsters. Even without Grover's normal disguise, people would have to look really close to notice he was a satyr and even then they probably wouldn't bat an eye and remember him as a normal human a minute later.

As we pushed through the crowd, I kept searching for the glint of gold, hoping to spot the rogue Celedon, but the square was packed as usual. A guy wearing only his underwear and a guitar was having his picture taken with some tourist. Cops hung out on the street corners, looking bored. At Broadway and West Forty-Ninth, the intersection was blocked and a crew of roadies was setting up some sort of stage. Preachers, ticket scalpers, and hawkers shouted over over each other, trying to get attention. Music blasted from dozens of loud-speakers, but I didn't hear any magical singing.

Grover had given me a ball of warm wax to stuff in my ears whenever necessary. He said he always kept some handy, like chewing gum, which didn't make me anxious to use it.

He bumped into a pretzel vendor's cart and lurched back, hugging Apollo's lyre protectively.

"You know how to use that thing?" I asked. "I mean, what kind of magic does it do?"

Grover's eyes widened. "You don't know? Apollo built the walls of Troy just by playing this harp. With the right song, it can create almost anything!"

"Like a cage for the Celedon?" I asked.

"Uh... yeah!"

If Grover might have been more confident, I might have relaxed finding out that lyre had magical power. But his confidence tend to impact his magic with just his reed pipes. On a good day, he could make plants grow and tangle his enemies. On a bad day, he could only remember Justin Bieber songs, which didn't do an ything except give me a headache.

I wish Annabeth was here. Being daughter of Athena, she is a natural planner when it comes to strategies. As for me, I know a lot about animals and can tell you which one is good for what, but I only use that knowledge in battle when I'm fighting, not for planning ahead most of the time.

Grover grabbed my arm, "There."

I followed his gaze. Across the square, at an outdoor stage, workers scurried around, installing lights on the scaffolding, setting up microphone stands, and plugging in giant speakers. Probably they were prepping for a Broadway musical preview or something.

Then I saw her-a golden lady making her way toward the platform. She climbed over the police barricades that cordoned off the intersection, squeezed between workers who completely ignore her, and headed for the steps, stage right. She glanced at the crowd in Time Square and smiled, as if imagining their wild applause. Then she headed for the center microphone.

"Oh gods!" Grover yelped. "If that sound system is on..."

I stuffed the wax in my ears, hoping they stay in for what I'm about to do.

I drop down on all four and my body expanded as my nose elongated as I turn into an African elephant.

...

If you want to clear a crowd of mortals from the area to fight an automaton, turned into a rampaging african elephant. Nothing sends people running faster than the fear of being trampled by one.

I led out a loud trumpet and charged forward.

As I did mortals went into hysteria and ran from me. Even those that weren't in my way ran for safety. Cops went into frantic crowd control as I clear the area.

Unfortunately during my scare tactic, the Celedon reached center stage. She grabbed the mike and tapped it. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM echoed through the streets.

Grover, I send an empathy link message, you'd better start playing that lyre.

I reached the stage and toward Celedon. I didn't plan to penetrate er with my tusk but at least knock her down.

I was twenty feet from the Celedon when a lot of things happened at once.

The golden singer belted out a note so powerful I could hear it through the wax plugs that still blocked out my hearing even animal form (don't ask how). Her voice was heartbreakingly sad, filled with longing. Even muffled through the wax it made me want to break down and cry-which is what several thousand people around Time Square did. Cars stopped. Police and tourist fell to their knees, weeping, hugging each other in consolation.

Then I became aware of a different sound-Grover frantically strumming his lyre. I couldn't exactly hear it, but I could feel the tremor of magic rippling through the air the stage under my feat. Thanks to the empathy link I saw flashes of walls, trying to summon a box around the celedon.

Good newsL it sort of worked. A brick wall erupted from the stage between me and the Celedon, knocking over the mic stand and interrupting her song. The bad news: I was still in mid stampeding elephant mode and I couldn't stop my momentum. I rammed intothe wall, which wasn't mortared, so I promptly collapse a wall of thousands of bricks on the Celedon.

I finally morphed back to normal as I staggered backward. The Celedon struggled out of the pile of bricks. She raised her arms in triumph as if the whole thing had been a planned stunt.

She sang, "Ta-daaaaah!"

SHe was no longer amplified, but her voice carried. The mortals stopped sobbing and rose to their feet, clapping and cheering for the Celedon. I don't even get why she wanted the mic if her voice is this loud and powerful without one.

"Grover!" I yelled, not sure if he could hear me. "Play something else!"!'

Then my body expanded as fur sprouted from my body as I turned into a full grown Gorilla. The golden lady didn't take notice of my transformation and launched into another song.

I tackled her into a wrestle to knock her off balance and I found out what song she was singing. THe temperature on the stage began to rise. The Celedon's lyrics were in ancient Greek, but I caught a few of the words: Apollo, sunlight, golden fire. It was some kind of ode to the god. Her me tal skin grew hot and my fur burned from it.

I released her and stumbled back. Times like this I wish there's a manual to what the Curse of Achilles can't protect me from besides being stabbed in my vulnerable spot. The wax had melted out of my ears so I could hear her song clearly. All around Time Square people started dropping from the heat.

Over at the barricades, Grover played wildly on the lyre, but he was too anxious to focus. Random bricks fell from the sky. One of the monitor speakers on stage morphed into a chicken. A plate of enchiladas appeared at the Celedon's feet.

Grover, focus! Sing about cages or gags! I roared in Gorilla talk. Being a satyr Griver should know what I was saying.

The air felt like a blast furnace. If Celedon kept this up, Midtown would burst into flames. I couldn't afford to play nice anymore. I'll take the blame for whatever punishment Apollo has instore if the Celedon is broken. I morphed into full rhino and charged at the Celedon as she started her next verse.

She back step away with surprising speed and I stampeded pass her. I'd managed to stop her singing, and I thought she was not happy about it. But then she spread her arms and changed form. Her arms grew into golden feathery wings. Her face elongated into a beak. Her body shrank until I was staring at a plump metal bird about the size of a quail. Before I could react, the Celedon launched herself into the air and flew straight for the top of the nearest building.

I watched t he golden bird spiraled up until she disappeared over the highest billboard on Times Tower. You've probably seen pictures: th e tall skinny one that's stacked with glowing advertisements and Jumbotron.

Grover stumbled onto the stage next to me. All across Time Square, the mortals who had collapsed from the heat and were starting to recover. The pavement was steamed. Police started shouting orders, making a serious effort now to clear the area. Nobody paid us any attention.

To be completely honest, I didn't feel so great. I had molten wax oozing out of my ears-which by the way, hurts.. I'd been char broil medium rare even after turning back to human, and I was really starting to hate music and quails.

I turned to Grover. "Did you know she could morph into a bird?"

"Uh, yeah... But I kind of forgot." Grover said. "Sorry about the enchiladas. I get h angry w hen I get nervous."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I responded "Well if golden girl wants to fly, then let's turn this into an aerial battle."

...

I morphed into a pegasus and with Grover on my back, I took off flying. I had no idea how we are going to sneak up on her this time, but Grover reassure me this time he had the lyre figured out.

The Celedon was easy to find. She was in human form, standing at the edge of the building with her arms spread, serenading Time Square with her own rendition of "New York, New York."

I really hate that song. I don't know anybody who's actually from New York who doesn't hate that song, but hearing her sing it made me hate it a whole lot more.

I came up with an idea as we flew up here and gave it to Grover even in pegasus form. It took a while because Grover thought I was talking about doing this to a bird, but he realized I was talking about the Celedon and was okay with this. I dropped Grover and turned into a spider monkey as Grover ha nded me the blindfold he had for pin the tail on the human.

Even though she was facing the other way, her music filled me with the urge to dance (which, believe me, you never want to see). I forced myself to keep going, but fighting her magic was like pushing m y way th rough a row of heavy rapes.

On the last line of "New York, New York." I jumped on her back, climbed up to her face to tie the blindfold across her mouth like a horse bridle.

Her grand finale was cut short wit h a New Yor-urff!"

I them morphed into a gorilla, which was Grover's cue to play the lyre.

The celedon stumbled forward. I had a dizzing view of Time Square-cops trying to clear the crowd, lines of tourist doing impromptu high-kick routines like the Radio city Rockettes. The electronic billboard down the side of the Times Tower looked like a very steep psychedelic waterslide, with nothing but hard pavement at the bottom.

The Celedon staggered backward, flailing and mumbling through the gag.

Grover desperately strummed his lyre. The strings sent powerful magic vibrations through the air, but Grover's voice quivered with uncertainty as he tried to sing about birds and bird cages. I was hoping a birdcage form to throw the Celedon in, but the Celedon wasn't making it easy. She was strong.

THe Celedon spun around trying to throw me. SHe clamped her hands around my Gorilla forearms and squeezed. Now Gorilla forearms are not small or weak but she manage to send a shot of pain up to my shoulders.

Finally a bird cage shimmered into being at t he edge of the roof. Grover did a good job as it was large enough to throw a fat quail into, and the bars glowed faintly of Celestial bronze. Most beings respect and fear Celestial bronze unless they're mortals so I hope it be enough to hold the celedon in bird form.

Unfortunately she was not cooperating. She spun hard, breaking my grip and shoving me over the side of the building. But the laugh is on her.

I shrank down as feathers sprouted all over my body as I turned a peregrine falcon.

I spread my wings into a control fall and then flew straight parallel with the street below. Then, since this Celedon refuse to cooperate, I grew and morphed into a dragon as I flew up.

The celedon looked in confuse and shock as I came up to her. The idea must have caused her to turn into a quail this time. I'm guessing she only turns when she was startled. But this time I was faster. I grabbed her with my dragon claw.

I landed on the roof and morphed into Gorilla form, keeping hold. Nothing like a dragon form to scare someone, but Gorillas have their strengths too. I roar to grover and he put down the lyre and reached the cage and opened it. I tossed the quail into the cage and Grover slammed it s shut.

THe Celedon went crazy, squawking and flapping but she didn't have room to turn back to human form, and in bird form-thank the gods-she didn't seem to have any magic in her voice.

Below us, Time Square was still in complete chaos. Tourist wandered around in a daze. The cops were breaking up the last of the high-kick dange routines (how does 'New York, New York' cause tourist to want to dance like that, I would never know). A few cars were on fire, and the outdoor stage been reduced to pile of kindling, bricks, and broken sound equipment.

"Well that could have gone better," I sighed in relief.

Across the Hudson River, the sun was going down. All I wanted to do was lie there on the roof and enjoy the feeling of not being dead. But our job wasn't done yet.

"We've got to get the Celedon back to Apollo," I said. "You up for another pegasus ride?"

"Yeah," Grover agreed.

...

Apollo was waiting for us in th e lobby of the Empire State Building. His three golden singers paced nervously behind him.

When he saw us, he brightened-literally. A glowing aura appeared around his head.

"Excellent!" He took the birdcage. "Hephaestus can fix her up, and this time I'm not taking any excuses about expired warranties. My show starts in half an hour!"

"You're welcome," I said. "You can keep the bird cage, Maybe it can help the next time a celedon malfunction."

"Good idea," Apollo said. He accepted the lyre from Grover. "Good job, you two! As your reward, you're invited to watch me perform on Mount Olympus!"

Grover and I glanced at each other. Insulting a god was dangerou s, but the last thing I wanted to do was hear more music.

"We aren't worthy," I lied. "We'd love to, really, but you know, we'd probably explode or something if we heard your goldy music at full volume.

Apollo nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. It might distract my performance if you exploded. How considerate of you." He grinned. "Well, I'm off, then. Happy Birthday, Percy!"

"It's Grover's birthday," I corrected, but Apollo and and his singers had already disappeared in a flash of golden light.

"So much for a day off," I said, turning back to Grover.

"Back to Prospect Park?" He suggested. "Juniper must be worried to dea th."

' Yea h," I agreed. "And I'm really hungry."

Grover nodded enthusiastically. "If we leave now, we can pick up Juniper and reach Camp Half-Blood in time for t he sing -along and smores!"

I winced. "No sing-along, please. But I'll go for the s'mores."

"Deal!" Grover said.

I capped him on the shoulder. "Come on, G-man. Your birthday might turn out okay after all.

A/N: And that's my first attempt on a fanfiction of the Singer of Apollo. For those hoping for Percy getting a wedgie and then losing his pants like in the original, sorry, but I saw no way to make that possible with his shapeshifting powers.

Next up is the long waited Animorph Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olymus: The Lost Hero.