The water continued carrying them North-Northwest at a brisk pace even after Percy stopped thinking about it, and he didn't question it. He was too busy focusing on a frantic Anastasia.

"We are doomed," she kept repeating, over and over, interspersed with the occasional, "Why did you flee?"

"We had to get out of there," he finally responded through grit teeth, once his pulse had evened out somewhat. The Sea of Monsters was far behind them, but they still were not close to Florida, and the dark abyss of the sea stretched out in all directions around them. The sun hung low in the sky, and it seemed to be late afternoon.

"He thinks you betrayed your father by helping me."

"It's not like arguing with him would have changed his mind," he said, exasperated.

"But that is the problem," she moaned. "He will not change his mind, and he will talk. Word will spread."

Percy clenched his fists. "It's–it's fine."

"He will tell the whole sea that you have betrayed the sea god to help me. He knows who my parents are. We must get out of here–we must find land–"

"Calm down!" he yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Listen: my father was once told that I had wronged his brother, and he defended me without even getting my side of the story. He–he won't jump to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I know that's hard for you to believe, but trust me, I'm sure." Percy swallowed, trying desperately to choke down the rising panic he felt in Anastasia. "And–hey, listen–I can still get to him before he hears any rumors. We still have time."

"No, no, we do not!" She shook herself free from his grasp. "What if Ketos calls out to your father? What then? He could already know!"

Despite how badly he wanted to tell her she was wrong, he saw from her point of view how likely her fears could be, and he couldn't help his mind from wandering to his meeting with Polyphemus earlier that summer. That Cyclops had called upon Poseidon in his anger toward Percy, asking for the sea god to smite the black-haired boy for besting him.

Anastasia's stomach dropped at this memory. "Nothing happened," Percy assured her. "My dad wouldn't take sides between two of his kids."

She planted her face in her hands. "But Ketos is not your sibling," she wailed.

Percy crossed his arms. "Well, then, maybe my dad wouldn't listen to him if he prayed to him."

"No, he would," she said miserably, as if she were an expert on that sort of thing. "Especially if he were saying you are a traitor."

"Didn't your mother say the same thing about you?" he prompted. "She could have called upon your father to punish you, by the same logic. But nothing has happened to you yet."

A shudder passed through her as he spoke, as if ice settled into her spine. But even after he finished, she continued trembling, grasping her arms as if holding herself would stop the shaking, to no avail. "Oh gods," she murmured, her eyes growing faraway, "oh fuck!"

He grimaced. He had meant to help, but his words had only made her anxiety worse. "No, I–I just mean–"

"Look at me!" she shouted suddenly, grabbing the sides of his head and staring intensely into his eyes. He met her gaze and felt struck by how weary she looked, on top of the whole insane demon thing she had going on, of course. "We need to get our story straight, just in case our fathers, you know…"

He shook his head. "What story? Why do we need–"

"What if we tell them about the prophecy?" she continued. "That would explain everything and prove why we had to work together."

He took a deep breath, thoughtfully. "No, we can't," he admitted begrudgingly. "We can't interfere with fate by telling people what a prophecy says. It's too risky. I don't want to be punished for that."

Her face hardened. "If we do not think quickly, we stand the risk of being punished for things we did not do at all, Jackson."

"I know, I just…let's be smart about this."

"We need to get them not to go to war, anyway," she said, her mind racing. "Maybe we could connect the two, somehow."

He clasped his hands together mockingly. "'We're not traitors, and also, don't fight each other, please.' Okay, got it."

She clenched her hands in her hair. "We should not have come here," she muttered. "We should not have been seen together. What are we going to do?"

He knew it was a rhetorical question, but he grasped for an answer, nonetheless. He was frustrated at the thought that his father would treat him like a traitor simply for being seen with this girl. Percy hadn't done anything wrong–surely, his father would be able to see that if Percy could just talk to him. Surely, it would all be alright.

"Maybe we can just say that we were looking for answers together," he said, furrowing his brow in concentration. "We just wanted to understand why there have been stirrings. That's it. It's not that deep."

She covered her face with her hands again. "They will never buy that."

"But it's true! It's not really even a lie."

"But there is more to it–there is always more to it–they will–"

"Well, it has to be enough–if we just distract them by talking about what we've learned–AHHHHH!"

Percy was cut off by a thunderous boom, and he felt a strong pull on his legs, as if he were being sucked into an enormous vacuum cleaner. The water around him swirled violently, and he felt himself sinking down into the vortex. Anastasia called out and held out her hand, but she was suddenly so far, as if the water were forcing them apart. The churning waves wouldn't listen to Percy's commands, for some reason, and he felt a pang of fear stab him in the chest as he was swallowed by the whirlpool and plunged into darkness.

The next thing he knew, he was on his knees in a dark underwater chamber. The floor and walls were made out of abalone shell, and large pearls the size of basketballs floated around the ceiling and illuminated the room. He saw a bed woven out of kelp in the corner, and a tile mosaic of ten black-haired men raising a statute of a trident on the wall. Standing, uncertain, he felt himself to make sure he was still real.

He could tell he was deep under the sea, sucked twenty thousand leagues below. He felt lighter, and slightly cold, but not uncomfortable. He knew that the pressure should be too much for him to bear, but he didn't feel any. Examining the mosaic, he wondered if, perhaps, this could be his father's kingdom. He walked around the perimeter of the small room, dragging his fingers along the cool, rough surface of the walls. He reached a door and tried the handle–locked. Not a good sign. Frowning, he turned and sat on the bed.

Am I a prisoner?he wondered. Rubbing his arms with his hands, he scowled at the ground. Anastasia had actually been right, if this really was his father's palace–his dad knew and was angry. No, not angry; maybe just cautious. Percy was alive and well, and this room didn't really look much like a prison cell. Maybe his dad just wanted to know Percy's side of the story.See, he wanted to say to Anastasia,he can be reasoned with.

He sat there, wondering what was going to happen for what felt like an eternity. He still felt sure that his father could see reason, but he felt the cold wash of truth spread over him like a bath of ice: he didn't really know his father. He had no idea what his father would think of what Percy had experienced over the past couple of days, and he didn't know what his father would do in response. He kept replaying what the Sirens had said about him, over and over.The sea god cares not for the suffering of his people.Percy found himself praying that wasn't true.

Suddenly, the door slid open, interrupting Percy's reverie. He sprang to his feet and drew his sword instinctively, the celestial bronze blade gleaming in the dim room, casting a warm glow over the scene. That didn't deter the visitor, however; he barreled right toward Percy and scooped him up in a bone-crushing embrace.

"Big brother!" Tyson cried, his peanut butter breath gagging Percy. "It's just me!"

Percy dropped his sword, letting it float gracefully to the ground. Tyson finally released him, and Percy took a huge gulp of air–well, water, technically. He craned his neck to see out of the doorway, but Tyson's massive frame stood in the way.

The Cyclops grabbed Percy by the shoulders. "Good to see you again!" His smile faltered. "Well, I wish it was better."

"What–what do you mean, Tyson?" Percy stuttered, overwhelmed. "What's going on? Where am I?"

Tyson took a deep breath, his eye dropping from Percy's. "You're in Daddy's palace. It's very nice here. Pretty."

"But what's going on?" Percy pressed, trying to get Tyson to meet his gaze again.

Tyson's lip quivered. "Daddy is upset," he whispered. "He thinks you're up to bad things."

Percy's breath caught in his throat, which seemed to constrict as if it were being squeezed. "I'm not! I'm not up to anything," he protested.

"I know, brother!" Tyson agreed, perking up. "I know you would never do anything to hurt Daddy. You're a good person."

Percy crossed his arms. "What does he think?"

Sighing, Tyson turned and pulled in a cart from outside the room. It was laden with colorful food and what looked like a bottle of sparkling grape juice. Percy examined the cart curiously as his stomach rumbled. It didn't seem like something a prisoner would get.

"Eat, please," Tyson urged him. "Daddy is talking to his council right now. They'll talk to you later."

"I don't want to eat," Percy said, frustrated, "I want to know what's going on. What does Dad think I did? Why is he upset?"

Tyson looked down at the ground. "I will come back later, when they're ready," he mumbled, starting to shuffle toward the door.

Percy jumped forward and grabbed Tyson's arm. "No, Tyson, don't leave me, please! Answer me!" The boy giant was shaking but silent. "You have to help me, Tyson. What's going to happen?"

Tyson turned back halfway and patted Percy's hand gently. "Everything will be okay," he said, but his optimism sounded forced. "You didn't do anything bad, right? So, everything will be okay." And with that, Tyson walked briskly out of the room.

The door slid shut behind him impossibly fast, so that by the time Percy reached it, he slammed into solid shell. Banging his fist against it, he let out an exasperated yell. Despite all his pushing and shoving, the door would not budge.

Percy spent another eternity waiting for Tyson to return. He paced the length of the tiny room about a million times over, he ate as much food as his anxious but empty stomach would handle, and he even popped open the juice and tasted it. It was bitter and red, like wine, but it must have been non-alcoholic because it didn't seem to affect his mood at all. Finally, after who knows how many hours, he flopped down onto the bed and closed his eyes.

He found himself back in Oceanus's icy fortress, bound in chains. On either side of him were two human-sized crawfish, guarding him, and mermen armed with spears and nets lined the walls. Ahead of him, Oceanus lounged on his dais, and beside him, a woman sat on the throne. She seemed older, around her fifties, and beautiful in a plain way. Her gray hair looked as if it had once been blonde, and her eyes were pale blue. Her lips were pressed thin, and she sat straight up, rigid as a board, her ancient hands folded together in her lap. Oceanus's staff was once again in the form of a giant snake, slithering languidly around the dais.

"You have been busy since last I saw you, that I will admit," he said, reaching down to stroke his pet snake casually. "And I must say, I am shocked at the lengths you would go to in order to spite me."

"I'm not," the woman on the throne said, her voice sharp. "She is a petulant child. And now that she knows she has been caught, she lies."

Percy tried to argue, but found that his mouth had been gagged, so he could not speak.

"It is in your best interest to tell me the truth," he said lazily, almost as if bored. "Tell me what you have been plotting with the son of the sea god, and I will spare your life."

The woman's eyes flashed. "My lord, she is too–"

"Silence, Tethys," Oceanus interrupted, to the ire of his wife. He sat up and stared into Percy's eyes so intensely that Percy squirmed against his chains. "Tell me, child, have you been in contact with his father? Are you plotting to have him strike me down before I reach my full might?"

Percy desperately shook his head, hoping to ease the titan's fury. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect–Oceanus's nostrils flared, and he rose, his snake curling up his body and resting on his shoulders.

"It is pointless to lie to me–I will uncover the truth," he hissed, waving at the crawfish beside him. They dragged Percy back toward the entrance of the chamber.

"You have forced my hand," he declared menacingly. "I will persuade you to confess."

Suddenly, the dream shifted, and Percy was crouched behind a throne made of pearl while several overlapping voices argued. Freezing, he realized he recognized the voice coming from the throne he was hiding behind: his father's.

"–have the rest of them weigh in on my family's business," he was saying, agitated. "I wish to handle this as quickly and quietly as possible."

"It's an embarrassment," a voice directly to the right griped, and Percy stifled a gasp; it was the same voice from a dream he had had the night before he visited the Oracle.

You cannot escape punishment that easily, half-blood, he had snarled. For right now, however, he just seemed annoyed.

"It reflects poorly on your name if he allows himself to be seduced by the titans," the dream voice continued. A few mumbles of assent came from the room.

"Nothing is certain yet," Poseidon said, "but I cannot take chances. I must handle this before the rest of Olympus catches wind of it."

"Yes, my lord," a woman's voice said to the left. "Stand your ground. Please do not let your…affection for this boy cloud your judgment."

"My judgment is fine," Poseidon argued wearily.

"Promise me you will not let treachery go unpunished here," she pleaded.

Poseidon sighed. "I promise you, dear, if there is any trace of treachery here, it will be harshly dealt with."

Several voices began murmuring around the room. Percy found it impossible to tell how many there were. Clapping, Poseidon silenced them.

"Bring me Percy Jackson!" he commanded.

Percy woke with a start, then grabbed his neck. He had somehow maneuvered in his sleep so that his head was hanging off the edge of the bed of kelp, and he tried in vain to rub the stiffness out. He glanced at the door, and his heart began to race. He didn't have much time before he finally got his audience with his father. He at least took solace in the fact that Poseidon had not jumped to conclusions, just like Percy knew he wouldn't. He wished he could rub it in Anastasia's face.

Anastasia. He felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach. She was in danger. He wished he could speak to her, somehow, and know what else her father had said to her. He didn't even know if she was still alive. He had seen the world through her eyes in his dream, a tribute to their mysterious connection, but he hadn't been able to access her thoughts.

He wished he fully understood whatever connection they had. Maybe there was a way for him to send her some sort of message–like Grover had sent him through their empathy link. Closing his eyes and knotting his forehead in concentration, he imagined reaching out to her mentally across the sea and projecting words into her brain. He felt a sort of tingle in the back of his head.

Hey, princess! Can you hear me? It's me, Percy.

Almost instantly, he was assailed by her voice in his head, as clear and strong as if she were standing next to him:General Jackson! Where are you? How are you doing this?

He could have nearly laughed with relief. It had worked. And it was so easy; all he had to do was imagine her and send a thought message.I'm in my father's palace. He's about to summon me to explain myself to him. Are you okay? I saw you in a dream with your father.

I am not okay, she said, her voice sorrowful.He believes I am conspiring against him with you. He is trying to torture information out of me, but he will not accept the truth. I do not know how to convince him. Please, help me.

He pressed his lips together, trying to think.Okay, I'll find some way to help you, but I gotta get out of this first.He jumped out of his skin as the door to the room began to slide open.I've gotta go. I'll keep you updated. Do the same.

Hurry!was her only reply as he locked eyes with Tyson. His brother was flanked by two dolphins, and his face was clouded with worry.

"Good morning, Percy," he said, feigning cheerfulness. "Let's go see Daddy."