The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus, #3)

by Rick Riordan

Seeds, Percy realized. Pomegranate seeds. Three had been eaten and spit out. Five were still encased in dark red pulp. “Nico,” Percy said, “where is this place? We’ll save you.…” The image faded, and a girl’s voice whispered: “Percy.” At first, Percy thought he was still asleep. When he’d lost his memory, he’d spent weeks dreaming about Annabeth, the only person he remembered from his past. As his eyes opened and his vision cleared, he realized she was really there. She was standing by his berth, smiling down at him. Her blond hair fell across her shoulders. Her storm-gray eyes were bright with amusement. He remembered his first day at Camp Half-Blood, five years ago, when he’d woken from a daze and found Annabeth standing over him. She had said, You drool when you sleep. She was sentimental that way. “Wh—what’s going on?” he asked. “Are we there?” “No,” she said, her voice low. “It’s the middle of the night.” “You mean…” Percy’s heart started to race. He realized he was in his pajamas, in bed. He probably had been drooling, or at least making weird noises as he dreamed. No doubt he had a severe case of pillow hair and his breath didn’t smell great. “You sneaked into my cabin?”