"Oh, gods," I groaned under my breath. "I was so wrong. So wrong."

"Percy?" asked Juniper, her voice filled with alarm. "Do you know what happened?" I ignored her.

"Percy! Do you know what's going on?" bellowed Grover. I picked Annabeth up and turned around.

"We need to get her someplace," I muttered, completely aware that I sounded like a madman. "We need to talk to Heale. We need to figure it out now!" My mutterings ended in yells.

The RV was still flipped over. It wasn't connected to the car; the chains had snapped, so the car was still standing flat. I walked over to it and opened the back door. (How I did that while carrying a person I don't know.)

"Come on!" I yelled. I laid Annabeth in the back seat and pulled the keys out of my pocket. All but jumping over the car to get to the drivers seat, I stepped into the car and inserted the key into the ignition. Grover and Juniper exchanged a wide eyed look and then Juniper nodded the tiniest bit. They ran to the car, Grover sliding into the passenger seat and Juniper in the back.

I stepped on the gas pedal, and the car shot forward like a ballistic missile. Grover held his seat with both hands so he wouldn't fall backwards.

"All right, Percy," he started. "Tell us what's going on."

There was no point in beating around the bush. I decided to tell them the whole thing. When I finished, Grover looked shocked and Juniper looked like she was going into shock.

"Are you sure…are you sure that she didn't know?" Grover asked timidly. "Maybe she knew what the cure was."

"Can you stop talking like she's dead?" I snapped. "She's not dead, and she won't be dead for a long time if I can help it!"

"Okay. Maybe she knows the cure then," suggested Grover, putting extra emphasis on the present tense. "She is a daughter of Athena, after all."

"I don't know," I said miserably. "She never said anything."

"Maybe she wrote it down. I saw her writing in that red notebook a lot," whispered Juniper.

"Oh my gods," I moaned. How had I forgotten about her asking me to read her note book? Immediately I spun the car around, so fast that it created black tracks on the street. I headed back towards where the RV was.

"Percy, where are we going?" asked Grover.

"Back," I answered. "She told me to read her notebook. And I am going to read it."

Because I drove like a madman, we got there in just a minute. The RV was still there, but something had happened to it. It was broken across the center, like it had been slashed at with huge claws. The Teumessian Fox.

I jumped out of the car, ran to the trailer. We didn't have a moment to spare. It had been at least fifteen minutes since Annabeth had collapsed. We didn't have more than 45 minutes.

I scaled the bottom of the trailer, and reached the side. Opening the door, I jumped into the thing.

It was mayhem. All of our things were thrown around the thing, our stuff spilling out of drawers and tables. The computer had fallen to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. Our bags were ripped open and our clothes had slipped onto the floor. The glass coffee table had broken; the sofa had tipped over it.

I spun around, bewildered. Where would I find a red notebook in this mess? It could be anywhere—with the rest of Annabeth's stuff, under the remains of the table, near the beds. I decided to start by looking near Annabeth's things, under her bag.

I picked the bag up and tipped it upside down. The first sounds were soft—but a metallic thump made me look down. It was a silver framed picture. I turned it over so I could see the picture in it.

What I saw brought a lump to my throat. It was the picture Chiron had taken of the two of us when we'd won the annual chariot races. To fit both of us in the picture, Chiron had to squish us so close together that our heads were touching. We were both laughing our heads off in the shot. It was so easy to laugh with each other back before things had gotten complicated.

I had the same picture framed in my room.

I stared at it for another minute before putting it down. I kept looking around for the notebook. Was it on the table? No. Was it under the smashed desk? No, it wasn't there either. I felt like a child playing hide-and-seek.

"Percy!" I heard Grover shout. "Percy! Hurry! There's a fire!" I leaned out of the window, and saw that he was right. There was a fire, burning fingers licking the distance between the front of the trailer and me at the back. I didn't have long before the entire thing exploded, I knew that.

I continued the search, even more frantic than before. Where was it? There, under the broken TV. It was there, partially buried by the simple wood table that had been the only thing to escape the destruction.

I ran over to the thing, started yanking the notebook out from under the table. It wouldn't budge at all. The table was heavy, thick oak.

"Percy, it's almost there!" warned Grover.

There was a muffled ripping sound, and I tried to be more careful. I lifted the heavy table and slid the book out from under it.

"Percy, what're you doing? Come on!"

I grabbed the chair from the corner and dragged it so it was under the door. I lifted my hand to touch the metal, and the heat almost burned my fingers. How would I get out of here?

The window.

I ran to the window and pushed against the thick glass. Nothing happened. I pushed harder. Still nothing. I moved a few steps back—and my eyes fell on the framed picture. And below that, I saw Daedalus's laptop.

I wasn't going to leave without those.

"Percy, forget it! We'll figure it out without the notebook!" yelled Grover. "Get out of there now!"

I went over to the laptop and the picture. Adding those to the notebook on my arm, I turned to my right and ran straight towards the window.

The glass shattered and I fell out of the trailer, landing on the gravel.

"Percy!" shouted Grover and Juniper in unison. I staggered to my feet, examining my right side at the same time. A few shards of glass were lodged in my skin. As long as they hadn't gone too deep, I'd be all right.

"I'm fine," I said in a shaky voice. Walking towards the car, I stumbled a little. A split second after I started walking, the whole trailer exploded behind me.

I looked at the notebook as I walked, flipping through the pages. Annabeth's handwriting filled a lot of the first pages. As far as I could tell, it was just an account of all the things that had happened on the quest. I kept flipping the pages, until I came to the last page. It looked like a letter. Dear Percy, it started.

Dear Percy,

If you're reading this, as I'm assuming you are, then what I thought would happen did happen. I'm fighting against Etgroftnig as you're reading this. I probably can't communicate with you guys. It's up to you to figure it out.

I can try to help, though.

Percy—remember when you, Grover, and I were on the road right before running into Medusa? We were trying to figure out the puzzle of Etgroftnig and Vuretole. Grover thought that Vuretole might be a plant or herb. I thought that it was an anagram, a word trick.

Guess what? I was right.

I'm really sure that Etgroftnig and Vuretole are anagrams. I've spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out the puzzle. My best guesses are below.

I wish you luck. After all, it is my life that we both are gambling on.

Yours,

Annabeth.

ETGROFTNIG:

FORGETTING

VURETOLE:

URET VOLE:

TRUE L

That was where the paper ripped. The other part had been destroyed with the rest of the trailer. But looking at the remaining part of the paper, it was painfully easy to see what URET VOLE unscrambled out to be.

Annabeth Chase

I couldn't recognize the girl who was leaning over me. She said, "Annabeth!" and felt my wrist. Annabeth. That must be me, then.

Just then, another boy came up. He, too, asked me to recognize him, but I could see nothing familiar in his curly brown hair and kind brown eyes. I didn't recognize his limp, either.

As I struggled with myself to remember these people, yet another character arrived on the scene.

It was him.

This boy I knew. I knew those viridian green eyes, the inky black hair. I knew the lips set in a frown on his face. I knew this boy, and I resolved that I would never forget him. No, he would be my constant.

But what was his name?

Without my permission, my lips moved. "Percy?" I inquired.

Percy. I was Annabeth, and he was Percy.

I had, now, two pieces of information. To celebrate, I tried to keep my eyes open longer, but everything blurred into a mix of colors, with no shapes. I could see three blurred figures floating above me, and I guessed that they must be Percy, and the other two.

I heard sounds like my ears were stuffed with cotton under the sea. My eyes closed against my will and I felt all energy leaving my body. The soft seats that had seemed so comfortable a minute ago were freezing ice and blazing fire. My eyes closed and there was darkness.

The faces were gone, and to my surprise, I couldn't remember who they were.

One voice broke through my lethargy. I could tell it was someone very close to me…but I struggled to remember who. I tried to make out what they were saying, but I couldn't understand. I didn't…I can't…I don't want…

I don't know who I am.

I wasn't thinking, of course. I was just feeling, and I felt an overwhelming sense of anger and sadness and pain and agitation…and confusion. Endless confusion. Voices of something whispered to me, asked me who I was and where I was and what I needed and who I wanted and I couldn't answer.

I wanted to scream but I found I couldn't breathe a word. I screamed in my head even when my mouth didn't move.

I don't know! I shouted. I don't know! I don't know who I am or where I am or what I am. I can't breathe. I can't scream, and I can't…live. I don't know what this is. I'm not dead. I should know this. I always know things…

That voice came again, calling. I couldn't make out what was being said, but I tried.

Why do I hear that voice? Why do I feel like I know it? Why do I need to know who it is? Who is calling me? Who is beckoning? Why do I feel so lost? Why am I surrounded by this darkness?

This time I was asking the questions…but there were no answers. I struggled to remember anything. I struggled to remember why I struggled. I needed to do something, but I wasn't sure quite what.

Just then, there came a voice that was stronger. Per se, it wasn't stronger—it was just more effective in cutting through to me. It sounded broken and wounded. It was pleading with me, but I couldn't tell what it was asking. I wanted to comfort the voice, but I couldn't move at all.

I moved my head to the right. Well, I tried. But once again, I seemed to be locked in place.

The voice sucked in a long breath, seemed to prepare itself for something. It lowered itself to my ear and said something. I didn't understand it at all.

But this was different.

An explosion of colors—a world of sounds, of sights, of things. It made a universe of scenes and filled the darkness. I saw pictures flash around me. A little, two year old girl with curly blonde hair and grey eyes, who I realized with a shock, was me. A man with sandy hair and hazel eyes; my father. A girl with spiky black hair and electric eyes. Her face was filled with pain and power.

A sandy, blond haired boy with pale blue eyes, a painful white line of a scar, and a smiling mischievous face. As I looked on, the pleasant expression changed to a sneering grimace, and I felt an immense sense of loss.

It took me a minute to recognize Thalia and Luke, but when I did, I was not surprised.

And then I saw others who mattered to me: Grover, Chiron, Juniper, my mother, Athena.

But then came another picture that made it seem like an electric current was running through my veins. Actually, it was not just a single picture. It was a hundred—a thousand—a million.

They were all of a single boy, in a thousand different positions. A boy with inky black hair and piercing viridian eyes. I saw others with him sometimes. I saw Nico, and Juniper, and Grover. I saw Elle. I saw Malcolm. I saw him with Rachel, when she's asking him a question in front of a school. I saw him with me, in a moment when we're laughing after a race. Once I saw him with Luke, and his face was twisted in pain and apology. I closed my eyes against that image.

Now phrases come back to me.

"Annabeth, you must be wise."

"Annabeth, you shouldn't go towards danger!"

"Annabeth, stay here."

"Annabeth, you must wait until somebody comes."

"Silence, Annabeth. He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

The first phrases were all ordering me. The next words…they were similar in the way that they were the same. Always the black haired boy—Percy , that is—said them. But they were not in the same places.

"Wise Girl."

"Wise Girl."

"Wise Girl."

Wise Girl again and again and again, repeated a thousand times.

Yes, they were always the same words, but in different places. I saw them scattered across the Big House, near the creek, across all of America in a single summer, all in a single moment.

My thoughts didn't make sense. Why was that?

But then the voice, all but forgotten in the explosion of experiences, spoke again. And this time, the voice said words I understood. They were the words I had sworn many times I would never hear, and they were the words I swore I would never forget.

I love you, Annabeth.

No, they were words I would never forget, I said to myself.

But the fates are cruel—didn't he say that once?—and the memory of the words were gone. Because as soon as the lovely voice said those words, the color left in a flash of darkness.

And when the color and excitement left…all the memories left, as well.

The darkness was cool and comforting. I found that I could think. I stretched my thoughts and found that the last thing that had happened to me was…was I getting in a taxi? Yes, and I remembered telling the slouchy, loud-mouthed driver Percy's address. I felt the same pang of dislike that I'd felt earlier, when he had boldly inquired if that was my boyfriend's address.

We drove for a while—and then…there was an accident.

My eyes flew wide open in shock…I saw him leaning over me. His eyes, too, were wide open; not in shock, but rather in astonishment.

"Percy?" I asked. "Can I ask why we are in a car? And why Grover and Juniper are over there?" I inquired, pointing.

He looked a bit pained at first, but then just leaned down and hugged me. "Annabeth," he said into my hair. "Annabeth…do you remember…I mean, what's the last thing you remember?"

"A cab…and an accident," I answered uncomfortably. He pulled back, and when I saw the expression on his face, I knew that my answer wasn't right. "What happened?"

In response, he smiled weakly and called Juniper and Grover. He slid into the driver's seat, leaving me in the back. "Hey, wait. I'm sitting up there, in the passenger."

"Fine. Hurry. We need to get back soon."

"Back where? Where are we?" Just as Percy answered, Grover and Juniper arrived and sat in the backseat.

Percy pointed to a map. "We're here. In Florence. And we need to get back to New York City."

So…how was it? I liked writing in Annabeth's point of view. The next chapter, which is also the last chapter, will be the Epilogue.

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.