A/N: Memo to self: stop promising update schedules. It never, ever works out. Anygays, here is chapter 4! The school ball, finally the actual Titan's Curse plot happens!

'Now, as you all know, today's classes will be cut short due to the school dance. I've been asked to remind all of you that attendance is mandatory.'

The class seemed to be evenly split between those excited for the evening and those dreading it. Here and there, complaints were heard. I kept quiet, but silently agreed. At age twelve, girls were still new and uncharted territory to me, and spending the evening at the sidelines with Bianca didn't sound all that tempting.

My thoughts kept wandering throughout the day, away from History, Maths and Geography, towards more interesting topics. Who cared about Napoleon or some other great conqueror if you could think about monsters, armies, and epic battles between sword-wielding heroes?

A while ago, I had discovered a book about the Trojan war in the library, and it had quickly become my favourite read in my quest to know as much as I could about the likes of Hector, Achilles and Paris. The letters kept tumbling around and about, but the illustrations more than made up for it, muscular swordsmen with grim faces but kind eyes, gods and goddesses clothed to the best of ancient fashion, and much more.

'Mr di Angelo, if you would kindly pay attention? I'm not sure if you're aware, but you're not here for your personal entertainment.'

I bit back on a groan and tried to seem somewhat awake and interested. Unsuccessfully.

It was going to be a long day.

Still, the afternoon came and passed, and sooner than I would have liked, the evening arrived. By 5pm, I stood in front of my closet and tried to pick my outfit for the evening. I had already decided on a pirate-themed shirt, all blue, but while I was still trying to choose pants to go with it, I changed my mind and instead went with a darker choice, a black shirt with some sort of monster skull drawn on it.

'Di Angelo!' one of the other boys yelled from the common room. 'Hurry up, I'm not gonna be late because of you!'

I rolled my eyes and picked a random pair of jeans. The colours clashed, but I didn't exactly expect anyone to care. When I hurried out of the bedroom, the other three boys I shared the dorm with were already dressed and ready. Thompson—he was the oldest one and thus had the questionable honour of having been appointed group leader of our room at the start of the term—checked off my name on his clipboard and had us form a column to head for the gym.

I guess every school needs people who are into the whole discipline thing. Or maybe it is a military academy phenomenon. Either way, guys like him seemed to have been born to push others around. As we walked down the hallways, the space became more and more crowded as groups from the other dorm rooms joined in and headed the same way.

The gymnasium was already full when we reached the end of the short queue leading up to it. Outside the door stood Dr Thorn, overseeing the students pour into the room. We reached the entrance, and Thompson handed in his clipboard.

'Room 134-C, sir. Everyone in attendance, sir.'

Thorn skimmed over the list.

'Thompson, Avery?'

'Present.'

'Johnson, Benedict Martin?'

'Present.'

'Hayley, John?'

'Present.'

'Di Angelo, Niccolo Maria?'

I grimaced at the mention of my full name and pretended not to hear the sniggering directed at my middle name.

'Present.'

Thorn signed something on a form of his and opened the door for us. I imagined I could still feel Thorn's two-coloured eyes staring at me and burning holes into my skull from behind. Once inside, we were no longer bound to remain a group, and soon enough, the rest of the boys had disappeared to meet with their friends while I searched the room for Bianca. Everywhere around me, people where conversing, having a go at the buffet, the older students and the teachers drank punch, the younger soda.

I ducked under the arms of a group of girls headed for the salads and narrowly avoided getting hit in the face by a dancing couple. Someone bumped into me, mumbling an apology, and when I turned around to complain, I saw the receding backside of Grover Underwood. Even with the weird way he walked, he still was pretty fast, and out of sight almost right away.

Whatever. Weirdo.

I made my way further into the crowd, and let me tell you, trying to find someone in a crowded room is tough when you're twelve and still a few inches short of five feet. More than once, I ran into people while looking another way hoping to catch sight of Bianca. With all the teachers and older students, I might as well have been looking for a small sapling in a whole forest.

Eventually, I spied a glimpse of a familiar green cap, and when I squeezed myself through a gap in the crowd, I could see Bianca leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, near the bleachers, staring at her feet. As the song changed, she briefly looked up and smiled when she saw me. I hurried past a few more people and sat down next to where she was standing.

'Fratellino', she greeted and ruffled my hair. I reached up and briefly squeezed her hand. Even with the overly loud music and the crowd everywhere, spending the evening here seemed less awful with her nearby. Without the need for words, I scooted aside and she sat down next to me.

'How was your day?' Bianca asked. I rolled my eyes, because really, school was just about the last thing I wanted to think about, but answered nevertheless.

'Mrs Baynes had us take a test in Geography, I think I did alright this time. Avery thought the capital of Spain was Portugal and you should've seen her face when he handed in his test, serves him right the little ass—'

'Language!' Bianca chided, with her usual motherly attitude.

For some reason or another, the thought of our mother felt odd, like there was something out of place, something on the tip of my tongue, but I dismissed it. She had died years ago, we had been told.

'Are you even listening to me, Niccolo?'

My sister's voice interrupted my daydreaming and I shrugged. 'Scusi.'

She frowned. 'Nico, you need to work on this—on this zoning out of yours. I spoke to Ms Torres yesterday and she said if you wanted to, you could take up counselling with her. Maybe she can help you.'

I felt my body tense. 'I don't need help.'

Bianca sighed. 'Sto solo cercando di aiutarvi. You said yourself that you have trouble following sometimes.'

Anger overtook me, and I hissed at her instead of a response. Her face grew more stern, and I prepared for one of her usual lectures. What was the worst, I could never even stay angry at her for long.

'I want you to consider it. You could go see her every Saturday, and she could talk to your teachers to let them know you're trying to get better. Please think about it.'

Like I was going to give up half my weekend, for counselling of all things.

'I said I don't need help', I forced out between clenched teeth. 'And I'm not going to—'

A shadow fell over us and we both looked up simultaneously. Over the loud music, I hadn't heard the footsteps approaching, and yet…

'Is there a problem?' said Dr Thorn.

Bianca straightened her posture and took off her cap. 'We're fine, sir, thank you for asking.'

He made no move to leave, and instead directed his stare at me. 'Mr di Angelo. Enjoying the ball?'

'Sir. I guess so, sir.'

Something about the man's awkward attempts at small talk set off every sense of danger in my body. Maybe it was just the unusually jovial attitude from him, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was that was bothering me. Either way, Thorn seemed satisfied enough with my answer and glanced over his shoulder to nod at someone before returning his attention to us.

'Ms di Angelo, about last week's exam…'

I tuned out Thorn's voice while he talked to Bianca and let my eyes roam over the gymnasium. Out of habit, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my deck of Mythomagic, shuffled the cards to keep my hands busy. Over on the dance floor, Anderson had been ambushed by a few girls and bit back on a laugh at his miserable expression and lipstick-painted face. Further down the room, I spotted Underwood dancing with some alternative looking girl, visibly almost falling over his own feet.

Honestly, wherever I seemed to go, that guy was already there. I briefly imagined that maybe he was a government agent keeping an eye on us, like in that one movie Bianca and I had watched a few weeks ago, like, with a radio in his ear and sunglasses and all that.

'Time's up', Thorn suddenly said. When I looked up, I found him glancing in the same direction as I just had. 'Both of you, with me.'

Ok, you see, when an adult acts weird and demands you come with him, then you refuse and get help, right? But if the adult is your teacher?

'Excuse me, sir, but is the school ball the right—' Bianca tried to argue, but the vice principal wasn't having any of it.

'Now', he growled, and before any of us could protest, he had grabbed us by the collar, like you would do with a kitten, and was dragging us towards the exit. I scrambled and tried to break free, but nobody in the room seemed to notice. We stumbled out of the gymnasium and through the corridors, past the chemistry classroom and the janitor's office, and into the lobby, where he unceremoniously pushed us on the floor.

His eyes seemed to glow in the dark when he made a 'keep silent' gesture before hiding in the shadow under the main stairway. From where he had come from, footsteps were approaching, and I instinctively hid behind Bianca as we retreated towards the wall. The footsteps stopped, the doors opened, and a boy strode into the room.

He couldn't be much older than me—13, maybe 14 years old. Although he didn't look like a jock, he seemed in shape, a subtle kind of muscular. He was dressed casually enough, with an orange shirt and some jeans, and a necklace. His hair was just as black as mine, but his most striking feature were the eyes, of a vibrant green.

And then of course there was the sword in his hand.

If possible, I pressed myself harder against the wood panelling, trying to disappear behind Bianca. The boy's sword—an unusual shape, out of place even among all the Civil War-era weapons on display in the school—seemed to glow faintly.

'It's okay.'

The first words out of the newcomer's mouth.

'I'm not going to hurt you.'

I glanced over to where Dr Thorn had disappeared to. I couldn't see the man, but he had to be somewhere near the stairs.

'My name's Percy', the boy continued. 'I'm going to take you out of here, get you somewhere safe.'

I wondered how he could not have seen us get kidnapped by Thorn. I mean, how often do you see a teacher assault a student and just think 'this is the right time to take a sword'? Maybe this Percy boy was mental. Sane people didn't bring swords to a school ball. That had to be it.

Something moved in the shadows, Percy spun around, and, with a whoosh! like an arrow flying, was hit by something.

'Yes, Perseus Jackson', Thorn's voice echoed off the walls. 'I know who you are.'

Perseus, I remembered. Greek hero, son of Zeus, distant relative of Hercules, slayer of Medusa. Part of the cancelled Mythomagic! Aegean expansion pack. 1500 attack power.

The vice principal emerged from his hiding place under the stairs and wiped some imaginary dust off his suit.

'Thank you for coming out of the gym. I hate middle school dances.'