Nothing caps off the perfect morning like a long taxi ride with an angry girl. I tried to talk to Annabeth, but she was acting like I’d just punched her grandmother. All I managed toget out of her was that she’d had a monster-infested spring in San Francisco; she’d come back to camptwice since Christmas but wouldn’t tell me why (which kind of ticked me off, because she hadn’t eventold me she was in New York); and she’d learned nothing about the whereabouts of Nico di Angelo [[longstory]]. “Any word on Luke?†I asked. She shook her head. I knew this was a touchy subject for her. Annabeth had always admired Luke, theformer head counselor for Hermes who had betrayed us and joined the evil Titan Lord Kronos. Shewouldn’t admit it, but I knew she still liked him. When we’d fought Luke on MountTamalpais last winter, he’d somehow survived a fifty-foot fall off a cliff. Now, as far as I knew, he was still sailing around on hisdemon-infested cruise ship while his chopped-up Lord Kronos re-formed, bit by bit, in a goldensarcophagus, biding his time until he had enough power to challenge the Olympian gods. Indemigod-speak, we call this a “problem.
†“Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters, †Annabeth said. “I didn’t dare go close, but I don’t thinkLuke is up there. I think I would know if he was.
†That didn’t make me feel much better. “What about Grover?†“He’s at camp, †she said. “We’ll see him today.
†“Did he have any luck? I mean, with the search for Pan?†Annabeth fingered her bead necklace, the way she does when she’s worried. “You’ll see, †she said. But she didn’t explain. As we headed through Brooklyn, I used Annabeth’s phone to call my mom. Half-bloods try not to usecell phones if we can avoid it, because broadcasting our voices is like sending up a flare to the monsters:
Here I am! Please eat me now! But I figured this call was important. I left a message on our home voicemail, trying to explain what had happened at Goode. I probably didn’t do a very good job. I told mymom I was fine, she shouldn’t worry, but I was going to stay at camp until things cooled down. I askedher to tell Paul Blofis I was sorry. We rode in silence after that. The city melted away until we were off the expressway and rolling throughthe countryside of northern Long Island, past orchards and wineries and fresh produce stands. I stared at the phone number Rachel Elizabeth Dare had scrawled on my hand. I knew it was crazy, butI was tempted to call her. Maybe she could help me understand what the empousa had been talkingabout—the camp burning, my friends imprisoned. And why had Kelli exploded into flames? I knew monsters never truly died. Eventually—maybe weeks, months, or years from now—Kelli wouldre-form out of the primordial nastiness seething in the Underworld. But still, monsters didn’t usually letthemselves get destroyed so easily.
If she really was destroyed. The taxi exited on Route 25A. We headed through the woods along the North Shore until a low ridge ofhills appeared on our left. Annabeth told the driver to pull over on Farm Road 3.
141, at the base ofHalf-Blood Hill. The driver frowned. “There ain’t nothing here, miss. You sure you want out?†“Yes, please, †Annabeth handed him a roll of mortal cash, and the driver decided not to argue. Annabeth and I hiked to the crest of the hill. The young guardian dragon was dozing, coiled around thepine tree, but he lifted his coppery head as we approached and let Annabeth scratch under his chin.
Steam hissed out his nostrils like from a teakettle, and he went cross-eyed with pleasure. “Hey, Peleus , †Annabeth said. “Keeping everything safe?†The last time I’d seen the dragon he’d been six feet long. Now he was at least twice that, and as thickaround as the tree itself. Above his head, on the lowest branch of the pine tree, the Golden Fleeceshimmered, its magic protecting the camp’s borders from invasion. The dragon seemed relaxed, likeeverything was okay. Below us, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful— green fields, forest, shiny whiteGreek buildings. The four-story farmhouse we called the Big House sat proudly in the midst of thestrawberry fields. To the north, past the beach, the Long Island Sound glittered in the sunlight. Still…something felt wrong. There was tension in the air, as if the hill itself were holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen. We walked down into the valley and found the summer session in full swing. Most of the campers hadarrived last Friday, so I already felt out of it. The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swoopingover the woods on their pegasi . Smoke rose from the forges, and hammers rang as kids made their ownweapons for Arts & Crafts. The Athena and Demeter teams were having a chariot race around the track, and over at the canoe lake some kids in a Greek trireme were fighting a large orange sea serpent.
Atypical day at camp. “I need to talk to Clarisse, †Annabeth said. I stared at her as if she’d just said I need to eat a large, smelly boot . “What for?†Clarisse from the Ares cabin was one of my least favorite people. She was a mean, ungrateful bully. Herdad, the war god, wanted to kill me. She tried to beat me to a pulp on a regular basis. Other than that, she was just great. “We’ve been working on something, †Annabeth said. “I’ll see you later.
†“Working on what?†Annabeth glanced toward the forest. “I’ll tell Chiron you’re here, †she said. “He’ll want to talk to you before the hearing.
†“What hearing?†But she jogged down the path toward the archery field without looking back. “Yeah, †I muttered. “Great talking with you, too.â€
to be continued....
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