Chapter Text
He stood alone on a familiar hill, bark brushing up against his back as burned under the pale moonlight.
Thalia’s tree. But why…
A hand reached out of the darkness, a body appearing in a ripple of shadow.
Percy’s breath caught as he recognized the blue eyes and grisly scar that marked the new arrival’s face.
Luke.
There was something in Luke’s hand, something that made Percy’s skin light up with heat even in the cold of the night.
Luke stepped forward, touching Thalia’s tree with the thing in his hand and…
Percy was burning. His skin, his bones, his blood. Everything burned.
Percy woke up.
He kicked the covers off, uncomfortable still even as the heat faded quickly from his body.
Oh, damn it all. Percy gripped his hair in his hands tightly. He’d had that dream a dozen times now over the past two weeks. He’d never had a dream repeat itself so much within such a short time frame, and it was slowly driving him mad.
Drawing wasn’t helping the way it usually did. Before, when Percy drew one of his dreams, he didn’t tend to have the dream again. Almost like the drawing got the dream out of his head so he didn’t keep repeating it.
But something about this dream…
Percy didn’t understand. He understood the dream itself, for sure, but he didn’t get why he kept having it.
Luke had poisoned Thalia’s tree, which meant the borders were weakening, unable to keep out monsters the way it always had. The tree was dying, and the camp was in danger.
Yeah, Percy got that. He did.
But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Knowing that Luke had been the one to poison the tree didn’t give him the knowledge on how to heal it.
So why were his dreams so insistent on showing him this one scene?
Percy sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. If this night proved the same as the other nights, Percy wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Best not to bother trying.
Percy slid open his window silently, slipping out onto the fire escape to dangle his legs over the edge. He leaned on the railing, breathing in the familiar city smog.
He loved Manhattan, don’t get him wrong, but at times like this, Percy missed camp. He missed the saltwater pool in his cabin that he could float in all night long to escape his dreams. Missed the waves crashing faintly outside his window despite the ocean being too far away to hear.
Would it even be safe to go back this summer? Percy wondered if that was what his dreams were trying to tell him. Don’t go back. Stay away.
Or was it the opposite? Were his dreams trying to get him to go to camp? To try and save it?
Percy tapped his fingers on the railing absentmindedly as he watched the sun rise over the city. Sounds echoed from inside the apartment as his mom rose and started cooking breakfast.
Percy slipped back inside, determined to ignore his dream as he got ready for the day. He hesitated before leaving his room, catching sight of a shadow flickering across his window. It must’ve been a pigeon, Percy told himself, dismissing the humanlike shape of the shadow as he joined his mom in the kitchen.
“Last day of school,” Percy’s mom ruffled his hair as she set a plate of blue waffles and eggs in front of him. “Are you excited? You’ve almost made it!”
Percy nodded, trying to muster up some excitement for the end of the year. It was hard, given that Percy had gotten less than eight hours of restful sleep over the past three days, but he gave it his best shot.
Sally frowned, running a gentle hand under Percy’s eyes. “Still not sleeping well?”
“Not really.” Percy bit his lip to keep from spilling his dream to her. He’d kept the secret of his dreams from her for his entire childhood, trying to keep her safe—trying to keep them both safe.
Of course, Percy’s parentage meant that neither of them would ever be safe, but Percy still couldn’t bring himself to tell her.
“‘m just stressed, I think.” Percy smiled up at his mom, trying to lessen her worry. “I haven’t heard from Annabeth in weeks, and Grover hasn’t been in contact since he left to go on his search. I’m worried about them…both of them. I’ll see Annabeth at camp tomorrow, I know, but…”
Percy’s mom pursed her lips, her shoulders tensing as Percy mentioned camp.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Tell you what. This afternoon we’ll celebrate the end of the school year. I’ll take you and Tyson to Rockefeller Center—to that skateboard shop you like.”
For a moment, Percy was tempted. Extremely tempted. Between his mom’s night classes and Percy’s own private school tuition, they could never afford to do special stuff like shopping for skateboards.
But there was something in his mom’s voice that had him hesitating.
“We’re supposed to be packing me up for camp after school, though.”
She twisted her dishrag nervously. “Ah, yes, about that…I got a message from Chiron last night.”
Percy’s heart sank. Had Chiron told his mom about what happened to the tree? About the border weakening? “What did he say?”
“He said—he thinks it might not be safe for you to come to camp just yet. We might have to…postpone.”
“Postpone? But—why? Why isn’t it safe for me there?”
Percy had I-Med Drew yesterday, and the daughter of Aphrodite hadn’t mentioned a call from Chiron telling her not to head to camp. She'd been scheduled to head there yesterday after her conversation with Percy, so surely…
Why was it just unsafe for Percy?
“It’s—I can’t explain it all now, Percy. I was hoping to talk to you about it this afternoon. With the problems they’re having—well, Chiron feels it’d be safer for you to not come to camp just yet.”
But why? Even with the weakened borders, Percy was still safer in camp than outside of it. Monsters might be able to get in, but it’d still be difficult, and Percy would have dozens of other demigods by his side to help.
Percy’s scent, as a child of the Big Three, was more potent than the other half-bloods. He was in more danger out in the real world than most, so why…
Unless Chiron wasn’t saying it was unsafe for Percy if he came to camp, but unsafe for the others if Percy came to camp. Percy would only draw more monsters to the borders if he came, weakening them further. Was Chiron trying to protect the other demigods at the expense of Percy’s own safety? Surely he’d still be safer at camp, even if the monsters outside increased with his presence.
The kitchen clock chimed the half-hour, drawing Percy out of his thoughts.
Sally’s smile was strained, but she reached out to brush a hand down Percy’s cheek softly. “I’ll explain everything after school, I promise. For now, you need to go. Tyson will be waiting.”
Percy didn’t want to go to school, but his mom had this fragile look in her eyes—a kind of warning, like if Percy kept pushing she’d start to cry. Besides, she was right about Tyson. If Percy didn’t meet him at the subway station on time he’d get upset, too scared of traveling underground to go alone.
So Percy pushed himself up from his chair, slung his bag over his shoulder, and reluctantly bid his mother goodbye as she kissed his cheek.
“We’ll talk this afternoon, dear. I’ll explain…as much as I can.”
Percy jogged downstairs to catch the train. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that he and his mom wouldn’t be having their afternoon talk.
As Percy stepped outside, he glanced over at the brownstone building across the street. Just for a moment, a dark shape was silhouetted in the morning sunlight—a human shadow that belonged to no one flashing over the brick wall.
It rippled and vanished before Percy could decide if it was real or not.
Percy periodically glanced over his shoulder as he walked to meet Tyson, feeling eyes on his back but unable to see whoever—or whatever—it was.
Percy had been lucky this year, with almost no monster attacks throughout the entire school year, but there was a familiar dread settling under his skin that told him his luck was about to end.
In all honesty, the lack of monster attacks probably had more to do with Percy’s friend Tyson than any luck on Percy’s part.
Few monsters would have the guts to attack Percy when he had Tyson standing over his shoulder. Despite being young, Tyson was already a formidable opponent, Percy knew.
Percy caught up to Tyson with a minute to spare, his friend’s singular brown eye blinking down at him gratefully from the middle of his face. The young Cyclops turned to lead them in the direction of school, his long legs eating up the distance and forcing Percy to jog slightly to keep up.
Tyson was over six feet tall and built like a linebacker, so he had no trouble shoving his way through the crowds of the morning commute, and Percy could simply follow in his wake as they made their way to Meriwether Prep.
Percy liked their school, not just because he’d met Tyson there, but because they were a fairly progressive, chill school that didn’t give out grades.
Percy really liked that last part, seeing as it meant he wasn’t failing all of his classes due to his demigod dyslexia and ADHD that made normal classrooms a pain.
The school had adopted Tyson as a community service project so all the students could feel good about themselves—helping out a homeless kid and all. Unfortunately, most of the students actually couldn’t stand Tyson.
Once they’d discovered he was a big softie, despite his massive strength and scary looks, they started picking on him. Percy was his only friend, which meant that Tyson was his only friend.
But that was perfectly fine. Percy didn’t want to be friends with bullies anyways. Over the school year, Percy’s staunch defense of Tyson had given him more than a couple bruises and a fair amount of detentions.
He didn’t mind, though. Tyson was worth it. Percy knew that adult Cyclopes were incredibly dangerous monsters—when they weren’t working in Poseidon’s forges under the sea, that is. Incredibly strong, invulnerable to fire, and with an ability to mimic voices perfectly—they were formidable opponents.
But Tyson was just a kid Cyclops, living on his own on the streets—as most Cyclopes did. Tyson was kind. He cried when he stepped on bugs, for Poseidon’s sake.
Their first class of the day was English, and it was…interesting. They were taking their final exam, which, apparently, was just the entire school being sent out into the break yard to spend an hour with no adult supervision to see what would happen. Supposedly, it was because they’d been reading Lord of the Flies all semester, that book about rich white boys getting marooned on an island and going mad, but Percy thought it was just so the teachers didn’t actually have to do anything.
Over the course of the final, Percy witnessed a massive wedgie contest between the seventh and eighth graders, two pebble fights, and a full-tackle basketball game. Matt Sloan, Percy’s least favorite bully, led most of the activities.
Sloan wasn’t big or strong, but he certainly acted like he was. He was a typical rich boy bully, dressing in expensive but sloppy clothes, like he wanted everybody to see how little he cared about his family’s money. One of his front teeth was chipped from the time he’d taken his rich daddy’s Porsche out for a joyride and wrapped it around a stop sign.
Anyway, Sloan was going around giving everybody wedgies until he made the mistake of trying it on Tyson. Percy was, tragically, too late to warn him off. Sloan snuck up behind him, and Tyson panicked. He swatted Sloan away a little too hard, the other seventh grader flying fifteen feet and getting tangled in the little kids’ tire swing.
“You freak!” Sloan yelled as he yanked himself out of the tire. “Why don’t you go back to your cardboard box!”
Tyson started sobbing immediately. The Cyclops sat down on the jungle gym so hard the bar bent, and buried his head in his hands. Percy scowled as rage built up in him.
“Take it back, Sloan!”
Sloan just sneered back at him. “Why do you even bother, Jackson? You might actually have friends if you weren’t always sticking up for that freak.”
Percy balled his fists. “Oh, what, because I should be falling over myself to get you as a friend? You can’t even get your own daddy’s love and appreciation, why should I bother?”
Matt Sloan’s face went red with embarrassment and anger, and the bully stalked over until he loomed over Percy. “Watch yourself, Jackson.”
“Or what? Go on, Sloan, take the first shot. That’s all you’ll get.” Percy bared his teeth up at Sloan, something hard and cold in his sea-green eyes that had the bully taking a step back.
Percy was far from the biggest kid on the playground, more lean and scrawny than anything else, but he’d gained a reputation amongst his peers for fighting dirty.
Honor hardly mattered in Percy’s world, given that most of his opponents were monsters aiming to kill and eat him, and that trickled into Percy’s schoolyard fights. Fighting dirty kept a demigod alive, fighting with honor got them killed.
Add in a summer spent on the wrestling mats with Clarisse trying her hardest to grind Percy’s face into the ground and, well, Percy was quite the scrappy fighter these days.
He’d yet to lose a fight at Meriwether, and Sloan knew it.
Matt Sloan snorted, trying to play off his fear. “Whatever. You’re not worth it. You or the freak.”
“That’s right. Run away, Sloan!”
“Just wait till PE, Jackson,” Sloan snarled back. “You are so dead.”
The bully joined the rest of his entourage, which Percy idly noted seemed to have grown bigger since yesterday. Usually, Sloan had two or three buddies that followed him around, but today he had at least half a dozen more, and Percy was quite certain he’d never seen them before.
Percy frowned, a strange dread settling in his bones as he watched Sloan joke around with his new friends. Whoever these new kids were, Percy got the feeling they were dangerous.
Percy shook his head, dispelling the dangerous tingling in his veins as he turned back to comfort Tyson. In the end, Percy had to promise to buy Tyson an extra peanut butter sandwich at lunch to get him to stop sobbing.
“I…I am a freak?” Tyson sniffled.
“No,” Percy promised. “You’re just different, that’s all. Matt Sloan is the freak, taking out his own issues on you for no reason other than you’re different.”
“You are a good friend. Miss you next year if…if I can’t…” Tyson’s voice trembled as he spoke, and Percy realized his friend had no idea if he’d be invited back next year. Percy doubted the headmaster had even bothered talking to him about it.
“Don’t worry, big guy,” Percy managed, his voice tight. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Tyson gave him such a grateful look that Percy felt guilt well up in him. How could he promise Tyson that everything would be fine? Percy didn’t know how things would turn out next year.
They headed back inside as soon as the exam was over, their English teacher, Mr. de Milo, coming outside to inspect the carnage as soon as the bell rang. He pronounced that they’d understood Lord of the Flies perfectly. Everyone had passed his course, and they should never, never grow up to be violent people.
Percy thought it might’ve already been too late for some of them—himself included.
Their next class was science. Their teacher, Mrs. Tesla, informed them that their final exam was to mix chemicals until they succeeded in making something explode.
With Tyson as Percy’s partner, he had no doubt they’d be out of the lab in less than a minute. Sure enough, barely a couple seconds in and Tyson accidentally knocked an entire tray of chemicals off the counter and made an orange mushroom cloud in the trash can.
Mrs. Tesla evacuated everyone from the lab and called the hazardous waste removal squad, praising Percy and Tyson the whole time for being natural chemists. According to her, they were the only two who’d ever aced her exam in under thirty seconds.
The morning sped by quickly, which was nice, as it gave Percy little time to think about his numerous problems—the poisoned tree, Chiron not wanting Percy at camp, Annabeth and Grover’s lack of communication.
Percy’s favorite class of the moment was social studies, but that was mainly because they were drawing latitude/longitude maps and studying morse code. As both of those things had to do with the sea, Percy enjoyed learning about them.
He cracked open his notebook, staring at the photo inside—a picture of Annabeth from one of her last emails, when she was on vacation in Washington, D.C. Her blond hair was pulled back with a green bandana, light jeans and a denim jacket thrown over her orange Camp Half-Blood shirt. She was standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial with her arms crossed, a pleased grin stretching across her face, as if she’d personally designed the whole place.
Lately, Percy had been opening the notebook to look at her picture, trying to tell himself that Annabeth was okay despite her lack of communication. Percy’s emails to her had gone unanswered, and she hadn’t sent him any recent Iris-Messages—Percy would I-M her himself, but her stepmom nearly lost it when Percy’s last I-M appeared over their dinner table, so they decided it was best if Annabeth messaged him from then on.
Not for the first time, Percy wished Annabeth were here. Not only because then he’d know she was okay, but because she’d know what to do about camp.
Percy sighed, going to close his notebook when Matt Sloan reached over and ripped the photo out of the rings.
“Hey!”
Sloan gripped the picture with his grimy hands, checking out the picture with wide eyes. “No way, Jackson. Who is this? She is not your—”
“Give it back!” Percy snarled, his ears pinking at Sloan’s insinuation.
Sloan handed the photo to his new ugly friends, who all snickered and started ripping it up to make spit wads. Percy stiffened as anger built up in his veins, clenching his fists.
Percy’s eyes caught on the kids he didn’t recognize. They were all wearing those stupid HI! MY NAME IS: tags, but they were all filled in with strange names like: MARROW SUCKER, SKULL EATHER, and JOE BOB. No human beings had names like that.
Dread draped over Percy’s shoulders like a cloak. He couldn’t start a fight here, Percy reasoned with himself, even though he was sure now that these new kids were monsters.
Just his luck.
Just his fucking luck that Percy goes all year with minimal monster encounters—none of which occurred on school grounds—only to have half a dozen monsters show up his last day at school.
“These guys are moving here next year,” Sloan bragged, clearly noticing Percy’s glances. “I bet they can pay the tuition, too, unlike your retard friend.”
“Yeah, well, money isn’t everything, clearly.” Percy quirked an eyebrow at Sloan, the meaning in his statement obvious. Sloan’s face darkened with rage.
“You’re dead, Jackson. I’m gonna put you out of your misery next period.”
The bell rang.
Percy and Tyson left the class, heading for the gym, but Percy hesitated when a girl’s voice whispered his name.
He looked around the locker area, but nobody was paying him any attention—as if any girl at Meriwether would ever be caught dead calling his name anyways.
Something soft fluttered against his arm, something feathery and familiar. A faint taste of olives graced his tongue for only a moment.
Percy frowned, tilting his head as he cast another glance over the hallway.
Could it be…
Before Percy could decide whether the feelings were real, a crowd of kids rushed for the gym, carrying both Percy and Tyson along with them. It was time for PE, where their coach had promised them a free-for-all dodgeball game, and Matt Sloan had promised to kill him.
Percy changed as quickly as he could in the locker room, not wanting to deal with Sloan any longer than he had too. He threw on the truly unfortunate gym uniform—sky blue shorts and tie-dyed T-shirts—hesitating for a moment before sticking Riptide in his sock. It might be uncomfortable, but, given his auras, Percy got the feeling an attack was imminent. Percy turned when Tyson called out for him.
The Cyclops hadn’t changed yet, standing awkwardly by the weight room door and clutching his gym clothes. “Will you…uh…”
“Yeah, of course, man.”
Percy ducked inside the weight room, and Percy stood guard outside the door while he changed. He always felt a little awkward doing it, sort of like he was a bouncer at a club, but Tyson asked him to most days. And Percy got it, really. Tyson’s back was covered in claw marks, leading most kids to tease him about it.
And Percy had learned the hard way that if Tyson got teased while he was getting dressed, he’d get upset and start ripping the doors off lockers.
Percy got enough questions himself about the dark scar on his palm from the pit scorpion last summer, about the faint claw marks on his arm from his encounter with Medusa, he couldn’t imagine how bad it would be if he had scars like Tyson’s.
They headed into the gym once Tyson was finished changing, spotting Coach Nunley sitting at his little desk reading a sports magazine. The dude looked like he was nearing a hundred years old, with bifocals and no teeth and a greasy wave of gray hair. He reminded Percy a little of the mummified body of the Oracle’s last host—except Nunley moved a lot less and he never billowed green smoke. Well, at least not that Percy’d observed.
“Coach, can I be captain?” Matt Sloan piped up from behind Percy.
“Eh?” Coach Nunley looked up from his magazine with bleary eyes. “Mm-hmm, alright.”
Sloan grinned cruelly and took charge of the picking. The bully made Percy the other team’s captain, but it wouldn’t have mattered who Percy picked, because all the jocks and the popular kids moved over to Sloan’s side.
So did the big group of visitors—the definite group of unidentified monsters.
Percy’s side was made up of him and Tyson, along with other half a dozen kids who frequently found themselves the targets of Matt Sloan and his gang.
Normally, Percy would’ve had hope for his team, considering they had Tyson—he was worth half a team by himself—but the monsters on Sloan’s team were almost as tall and strong-looking as Tyson, and there were six of them.
Sloan spilled a cage full of balls in the middle of the gym with a blow of the coach’s whistle, and Percy’s team scattered for the opposite end of the gym, with the exception of himself and Tyson.
“Scared,” Tyson mumbled. “Smell funny.”
Percy looked at him. “What?”
“Them.” Tyson pointed at the disguised monsters. “Smell funny.”
Oh. Cyclopes had a heightened sense of smell, didn’t they?
Tyson could smell them.
The visitors in question were cracking their meaty knuckles, eyeing the mortals in the gym like it was slaughter time.
“Tyson,” Percy said slowly, pulling his friend back toward the door. A fight in the gym wouldn’t go in his favor, Percy knew, even with Tyson fighting beside him. They’d be better off trying to run. “We need to g—”
A ball slammed into his gut hard enough to throw Percy flat down on his back. The other team exploded into laughter as Percy tried to suck air back into his lungs. His vision swam, and he felt like he’d cracked a rib from the force of the ball sinking into his stomach.
“Percy, duck!” Tyson yelled. Percy rolled just as another dodgeball whistled past his ear at the speed of sound.
Whooom!
The ball hit one of the mats lined up on the wall, and a kid from Percy’s team who’d been sheltering behind it yelped loudly.
Percy scrambled to his feet. “Hey, watch it!”
The visitor named Joe Bob grinned at Percy from across the gym, his skin rippling before Percy’s eyes as his human disguise burned away. The monster grew until he was several feet taller, his biceps bulging beneath his T-shirt. “I think not, Perseus Jackson. My friends and I are hungry.”
A chill went down Percy’s spine, the way it always did when someone said his full name.
Matt Sloan dropped his ball as the rest of the monsters shed their disguises, growing into eight-foot-tall giants with wild eyes, sharp teeth, and hairy arms tattooed with snakes and hula women and Valentine hearts. “Whoa! You’re not from Detroit! Who…”
Percy knelt down, grabbing Riptide from his sock and uncapping it so the familiar bronze blade sprang out in his hand.
The other kids in the gym started screaming and backing toward the exit, but the giant named Marrow Sucker threw a ball with deadly accuracy. It streaked past the fleeing kids just as one of them reached for the door and slammed it shut like magic. The kids banged on it desperately, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Let them go!” Percy yelled. “It’s me you want, yeah? Well, come and get me!”
Percy twirled his sword around in his hand, one of the first showy tricks his old friend Luke Castellan had taught him—before Luke had tried to kill him, of course.
The one called Joe Bob growled at Percy. There was a huge tattoo on his bicep that said: JB luvs Babycakes. “And lose all our tasty morsels? No, Son of the Sea God. We Laistrygonians aren’t just playing for your death. We want lunch!”
The giant waved his hand, and a new batch of dodgeballs appeared on the center line—except these balls weren’t made of the typical red rubber. They were bronze, the size of cannon balls, fire bubbling out of small holes in the sides. They must’ve been searing hot, but the giants picked them up with their bare hands.
Percy approached slowly, Riptide clenched tightly in his fist. The giant named Skull Eater threw his ball. Percy dove aside as the fiery bronze comet sailed past his shoulder.
Percy yelled as the ball went straight for the wall mats where one of the kids on Percy’s team was still hiding behind. Tyson pulled the kid out just as the ball exploded against it, blasting the mat to smoking shreds.
“Run!” Percy told his teammates. “Go for the other exit!”
They ran for the locker room, but with another wave of Joe Bob’s hand, the door slammed shut with a loud wham!
“No one leaves unless you’re out!” Joe Bob roared. “And you’re not out until we eat you!”
Joe Bob launched his own fireball. Percy’s classmates scattered as it blasted a crater in the gym floor.
Percy rushed forward, ducking below another fireball as it streaked toward him. The heat grazed his skin as he rolled, but Percy pushed back the blistering pain. He came up directly in front of the giant that had thrown the fireball, slashing his sword straight through the giant’s gut.
The monster dissolved into golden dust, and Percy hit the deck as another of the giants roared angrily, throwing a glowing fireball at Percy’s face.
“You will die, Perseus Jackson. We will feast on hero flesh for lunch!”
Percy rolled to the side, making it back to his feet to come face to face with two angry giants. They picked up new fireballs, taking aim at Percy before he could get out of range. Percy tensed his muscles as they threw, preparing to duck under them again like he had the last one.
“Percy needs help!” Tyson yelled, jumping in front of Percy just in time to catch both flaming balls. Percy’s eyes widened as Tyson sent both balls hurtling back toward their surprised owners, who barely had time to scream as the bronze spheres exploded against their chests.
The giants disintegrated in twin columns of flame, and Percy breathed a sigh of relief. That was three out of the six down, now.
“Thanks, Tyson.” Percy patted his friend on the back as he moved forward, heading for one of the three remaining monsters.
“My brothers!” Joe Bob wailed. He flexed his muscles and his Babycakes tattoo rippled. “You will pay for their destruction!”
The monster sent another comet hurtling their way, and Tyson just had time to swat it aside. It flew straight over the still oblivious Coach Nunley’s head and landed in the bleachers with a huge KA-BOOM!
The mortals were running around screaming, trying to avoid the sizzling craters in the floor. Some of them were banging on the door, calling for help.
Matt Sloan stood petrified in the middle of the court, watching in stunned disbelief as balls of death just barely missed him.
Coach Nunley was as oblivious as ever, simply tapping his hearing aid like the explosions were giving him interference and keeping his eyes on his magazine.
The whole school had to be hearing the noise. The headmaster, the police, somebody would be coming to help them.
Of course, given Percy’s luck, he’d probably be blamed for whatever they saw when they managed to break through the doors.
“Victory will be ours!” Joa Bob roared, lifting another ball. “We will feast on your bones!”
“You’re taking this dodgeball game way too seriously, dude.” Percy muttered as he dove in between two of the giants. He stuck Riptide straight through one of the monster’s guts, whipping around as the monster dissolved to swipe at the giant behind him.
The giant swung his hands out, catching Percy in the chest with the back of a hand. Percy went flying back, hitting the ground with a thud that took his breath away.
He gasped for air, rolling to the side just in time to avoid the giant’s—the name tag on his chest read Skull Eater—follow up fireball.
Percy crawled backward desperately, scrambling out of the line of fire as Tyson leapt between them. The Cyclops grasped a leftover fireball, swinging it full-tilt into Skull Eater’s ugly face. The giant dissipated like smoke in the wind, but Joe Bob, the last giant, had been waiting for an opportunity. Joe Bob threw his own ball just as Tyson turned his attention back to the remaining giant.
“No!” Percy lunged to his feet, reaching Joe Bob just as the ball left his hand. The ball caught Tyson square in the chest. The Cyclops slid the length of the court and slammed into the back wall, which cracked and partially crumbled atop him, making a hole right onto the street.
The point of Percy’s sword pierced Joe Bob’s chest, but he didn’t stay to watch the monster disintegrate. Percy rushed over to his friend, who was sitting up, clearly dazed.
“Tyson, are you okay?”
Tyson blinked slowly, still stunned. “Owie.”
Percy huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I bet that stung a bit, bud. Think you can stand?”
Percy wasn’t about to try and help Tyson to his feet, knowing Tyson would likely just pull Percy on top of him, but thankfully the Cyclops managed to stumble to his feet.
The gym was in ruins, smoking craters in the floor and fire racing up the walls. Percy’s classmates were running around screaming. Percy could hear sirens wailing, and a garbled voice attempting to speak over the intercom. Through the glass windows of the exit doors, Percy could see the headmaster, Mr. Bonsai, wrestling with the lock, a crowd of teachers piling up behind him.
Percy winced as he took in the carnage. This was not going to go in his favor, Percy could tell.
“Percy!” Percy whipped around as a familiar voice shouted his name.
“Annabeth?”
Annabeth Chase emerged from the giant hole Tyson’s body had made in the side of the gym. Her face was grimy and scratched. She had a ragged backpack slung over one shoulder, her Yankees baseball cap in one hand and her bronze knife in the other.
The look in her gray eyes was wild, as if she’d been chased all the way from Virginia by hellhounds.
Matt Sloan, who’d been standing in the middle of the gym dumbfounded the entire time, seemed to come out of a trance at the sight of Annabeth. The bully moved forward, gaping like a fish as he recognized her from Percy’s notebook picture. “That’s the girl—the girl fr—”
Annabeth socked him straight in the nose and knocked him flat. “Lay off my friend, asshole.”
“Annabeth…how did you—how long have you…”
“Pretty much all morning,” Annabeth admitted, sheathing her bronze knife with a wary look around. “I’ve been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone. I was going to just wait until school got out and catch you on your walk home, but I heard explosions and figured…”
“You figured right. I thought I got your vibe in the hallway but it was too faint to be sure. You called my name?”
“Yeah. You got swept away by the crowd before I could call again, though.”
“Why were you invisible? You could’ve just shown up outside my classroom without the cap on and I’d have noticed you as soon as I walked out.” Percy frowned, cocking his head.
Annabeth flushed. “That’s not—I didn’t want…I thought it’d be better if I wasn’t seen by anybody but you!”
Percy raised his eyebrows, looking around the still crowded gym—granted, most of the kids in the gym were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, but still. “Oh, yeah, you definitely accomplished that. Nobody but me saw you here.”
Annabeth socked him in the arm, and Percy snorted before another thought occurred that had his face heating up.
“Hold up…that shadow outside my window this morning—was that—were you looking in my bedroom window?”
Annabeth’s ears pinked, but she glared hotly at him. “There’s no time to explain! I just didn’t want to—”
“There!” One of Percy’s teachers screamed. The doors burst open and a flood of adults poured in.
“Meet me outside,” Annabeth said quickly. “And him.” She pointed to Tyson, who’d been hovering behind Percy for the whole conversation. “You’d better bring him.”
There was a look of distaste on Annabeth’s face that Percy had never seen before, something that reminded him a little too much of the look of disgust on the other students at Meriwether’s faces when they looked at Tyson.
Percy’s shoulders tensed.
“What is—”
“No time!” Annabeth said. “Just hurry!”
She whipped on her Yankees cap, vanishing instantly.
Percy sighed heavily.
“Come on, Tyson. Better go before she gets even more snappy.” Percy turned to jump out the hole in the wall, barely catching the headmaster charging in with half the faculty and a pair of police officers as he hopped out.
Oh, great. Now there was no doubt he was gonna get the blame. Percy’d be lucky if he wasn’t put on the Most Wanted list again like last summer.
Tyson followed, and the two of them raced down the street—leaving the scene of the crime.
Annabeth was waiting for them in an alley around the corner, and she pulled Percy off the sidewalk just as a fire truck wailed past—no doubt heading for Meriwether Prep.
Tyson trailed after them, his singular brown eye locked on Annabeth in awe.
Unfortunately, Annabeth didn’t seem to share his sentiment, given the glare she sent Tyson’s way.
“Where’d you find him?”
Now, don’t get Percy wrong, he was extremely happy to see Annabeth. The daughter of Athena had been out of contact for so long, and Percy had been worried for weeks that she was in trouble. And now she was here, seeming—at the very least—well enough to boss Percy around, which meant she was fine.
But Percy’d just been attacked by cannibal giants, he was almost certainly going to get expelled if not arrested, Tyson had saved Percy’s ass more than once in that gym, and Annabeth was treating Tyson like gum on the bottom of her shoe.
“He’s my friend,” Percy told her sharply.
“Is he homeless?”
“Does that matter? His name is Tyson. And he can hear you, you know. Why don’t you just ask him?”
Annabeth drew back, surprise flashing over his face. “He can talk?”
“I talk,” Tyson admitted. “You are pretty!”
“Eugh! Gross!” Annabeth took several steps back, as though she thought she was going to catch the plague just by being near Tyson.
“What is wrong with you?” Percy hissed at Annabeth. He knew most demigods had a right to be wary of Cyclopes, but Tyson was just a kid.
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Do you know what he is?” Annabeth grasped Percy’s shirt in her hands, pulling him away from Tyson as she glanced warily in the Cyclops’ direction.
“Do I—of course—I have eyes, Wise Girl. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s my friend and he saved my life today, so could you stop treating him like—”
“Like a monster.” Annabeth bit out. “Cause that’s what he is, Percy. A monster.”
“He’s a kid Cyclops, Annabeth. He’d never hurt a fly, he cries when he steps on bugs, for Hades’s sake.”
“You’ve got to be—” Annabeth cut herself off with a sound of disgust as Tyson, apparently not following Percy and Annabeth’s hushed conversation, reached out to touch Annabeth’s blond hair. Annabeth ducked back, smacking Tyson’s hand away before it could touch her ponytail.
“Wh—” Percy swallowed back his anger, reminding himself that Annabeth had bad experiences with Cyclopes. She didn’t know Tyson like Percy did, didn’t know that he was different from the Cyclopes she’d encountered before.
“Look, just…I’m asking you to trust me here, Annabeth. Tyson is my friend. He’s just a kid, okay. You don’t need to like him, or trust him, but don’t—don’t look at him like that. Like he’s…”
Annabeth looked at Percy for a long time, an unreadable expression on her face, before she nodded shortly. Percy relaxed before turning back to Tyson, who’d backed off with a wounded look on his face.
“Hey, Ty, bud. I know you really like Annabeth’s hair, but she doesn’t really like to be touched randomly, yeah? So, maybe next time ask and if she says yes then you can touch her hair.”
Tyson nodded, looking less like a kicked puppy at Percy’s explanation.
“I guess he explains why you weren’t attacked at school until today. The Laistrygonians must’ve been really desperate to attack you with him around.”
“Yeah, shame they couldn’t have waited one more day—what did you call them again?”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Laistrygonians. They’re a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I’ve never heard of them as far south as New York before.”
“Laistry—what? I can’t even say that. What would you call them in English?”
Annabeth thought about it for a moment. “Canadians,” she said decisively. “Now come on, we have to get out of here.”
“Yeah, I get the feeling the police’ll be after me again.”
“That’s the least of our problems,” Annabeth said, striding out of the alleyway and down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of Percy’s still smoking school. Percy didn’t know where she was leading them—it wasn’t like they were going to walk all the way to camp—but he followed her anyway.
“Have you been having the dreams?”
Percy’s muscles tensed, the way they did when anybody mentioned dreams like that around him. “Dreams?”
“About camp. Big trouble at camp.” Annabeth glanced back, her eyes stormy, like her mind was racing a million miles an hour.
“Monsters are getting through the border. I don’t know why, but clearly something’s wrong.” Annabeth told him, her pace fast.
“You’ve been dreaming about monsters breaking through the border?” Percy asked her, grabbing her arm to pull her to a stop.
Annabeth turned, her gray eyes locking on Percy’s own sea-green. “You know something about it.”
Percy looked down, not quite sure how to tell her. “I had a dream.”
“And?”
Percy grimaced.
“Spit it out, Seaweed Brain.”
“It’s the tree. It’s—it’s Thalia’s tree. Someone poisoned it.”