The Sea of Monsters (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #2)

by Rick Riordan

Florida, I thought. Though I wasn’t sure how I knew that. I’d never been to Florida.

I opened my notebook and stared at the photo inside—my friend Annabeth on vacation in Washington, D.C. She was wearing jeans and a denim jacket over her orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. Her blond hair was pulled back in a bandanna. She was standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial with her arms crossed, looking extremely pleased with herself, like she’d personally designed the place. See, Annabeth wants to be an architect when she grows up, so she’s always visiting famous monuments and stuff. She’s weird that way. She’d e-mailed me the picture after spring break, and every once in a while I’d look at it just to remind myself she was real and Camp Half-Blood hadn’t just been my imagination. I wished Annabeth were here. She’d know what to make of my dream. I’d never admit it to her, but she was smarter than me, even if she was annoying sometimes.

I was about to close my notebook when Matt Sloan reached over and ripped the photo out of the rings. “Hey!” I protested. Sloan checked out the picture and his eyes got wide. “No way, Jackson. Who is that? She is not your—” “Give it back!” My ears felt hot.

Standing in the smoke was my friend Annabeth. Her face was grimy and scratched. She had a ragged backpack slung over her shoulder, her baseball cap tucked in her pocket, a bronze knife in her hand, and a wild look in her storm-gray eyes, like she’d just been chased a thousand miles by ghosts.

He blinked at Annabeth, as if he dimly recognized her from my notebook picture. “That’s the girl…That’s the girl—” Annabeth punched him in the nose and knocked him flat. “And you,” she told him, “lay off my friend.”

“Annabeth…” I stammered. “How did you…how long have you…” “Pretty much all morning.” She sheathed her bronze knife. “I’ve been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone.” “The shadow I saw this morning—that was—” My face felt hot. “Oh my gods, you were looking in my bedroom window?” “There’s no time to explain!” she snapped, though she looked a little red-faced herself. “I just didn’t want to—”

“Where’d you find him?” she demanded, pointing at Tyson. Now, under different circumstances, I would’ve been really happy to see her. We’d made our peace last summer, despite the fact that her mom was Athena and didn’t get along with my dad. I’d missed Annabeth probably more than I wanted to admit.

“Laistrygonians. The monsters in the gym. They’re a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I’ve never seen them as far south as New York before.” “Laistry—I can’t even say that. What would you call them in English?” She thought about it for a moment. “Canadians,” she decided.

“Look out! Go left!” “Well, if you’d give me the eye, Tempest, I could see that!” the driver complained. Wait a minute. Give her the eye?

Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to “clean” it, and suddenly you can’t find anything?

The Sea of Monsters is off the east coast of the U.S. now, just northeast of Florida. The mortals even have a name for it.” “The Bermuda Triangle?” “Exactly.”

me! We can start the world anew. We could use your intelligence, Annabeth.” “Because you have none of your own!”

“Oh my gods, how did the Princess Andromeda travel so far overnight? That’s like—” “Five hundred and thirty nautical miles,” I said. She stared at me. “How did you know that?” “I—I’m not sure.” Annabeth thought for a moment. “Percy, what’s our position?” “36 degrees, 44 minutes north, 76 degrees, 2 minutes west,” I said immediately. Then I shook my head. “Whoa. How did I know that?” “Because of your dad,” Annabeth guessed. “When you’re at sea, you have perfect bearings. That is so cool.”

But whenever Annabeth talked about the time she’d spent with them, I kind of felt…I don’t know. Uncomfortable? No. That’s not the word. The word was jealous.

I tried to stay mad at her, but it wasn’t easy. We’d been through a lot together. She’d saved my life plenty of times. It was stupid of me to resent her.

“You okay?” Annabeth asked me. “You look pale.” “I’m okay,” I lied. “Just…let’s keep walking.”

I almost didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a sleeveless silk dress like C.C.’s, only white. Her blond hair was newly washed and combed and braided with gold. Worst of all, she was wearing makeup, which I never thought Annabeth would be caught dead in. I mean, she looked good. Really good. I probably would’ve been tongue-tied if I could’ve said anything except reet, reet, reet. But there was also something totally wrong about it. It just wasn’t Annabeth.

“You, my dear, have the makings of a sorceress. Like me.” Annabeth took a step back. “A sorceress?” “Yes, my dear.” C.C. held up her hand. A flame appeared in her palm and danced across her fingertips. “My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one. We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men.” “I—I don’t understand.”

“The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now there were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all.” “You…C.C.…Circe!” “Yes, my dear.” Annabeth backed up, and Circe laughed. “You need not worry. I mean you no harm.”

Annabeth sheathed her knife and glared at me. “Thanks…” I faltered. “I’m really sorry—” Before I could figure out how to apologize for being such an idiot, she tackled me with a hug, then pulled away just as quickly. “I’m glad you’re not a guinea pig.” “Me, too.” I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt. She undid the golden braids in her hair. “Come on, Seaweed Brain,” she said. “We have to get away while Circe’s distracted.”

I just somehow knew an old sailing vessel was the best bet for me. I grabbed Annabeth’s hand and pulled her toward the three-mast ship.

“They say the Sirens sing the truth about what you desire. They tell you things about yourself you didn’t even realize. That’s what’s so enchanting. If you survive…you become wiser. I want to hear them. How often will I get that chance?” Coming from most people, this would’ve made no sense. But Annabeth being who she was—well, if she could struggle through Ancient Greek architecture books and enjoy documentaries on the History Channel, I guessed the Sirens would appeal to her, too. She told me her plan. Reluctantly, I helped her get ready.

I was desperate. I had to keep Annabeth alive. I imagined all the bubbles in the sea—always churning, rising. I imagined them coming together, being pulled toward me. The sea obeyed. There was a flurry of white, a tickling sensation all around me, and when my vision cleared, Annabeth and I had a huge bubble of air around us. Only our legs stuck into the water. She gasped and coughed. Her whole body shuddered, but when she looked at me, I knew the spell had been broken. She started to sob—I mean horrible, heartbroken sobbing. She put her head on my shoulder and I held her.

“I’ll get us back to the ship,” I told her. “It’s okay. Just hang on.” Annabeth nodded to let me know she was better now, then she murmured something I couldn’t hear because of the wax in my ears.

“You okay?” I asked. The moment I said it, I realized how lame that sounded. Of course she wasn’t okay.

I didn’t want to admit that I’d seen what the Sirens had promised her. I felt like a trespasser. But I figured I owed it to Annabeth. “I saw the way you rebuilt Manhattan,” I told her. “And Luke and your parents.” She blushed. “You saw that?” “What Luke told you back on the Princess Andromeda, about starting the world from scratch…that really got to you, huh?”

“My fatal flaw. That’s what the Sirens showed me. My fatal flaw is hubris.” I blinked. “That brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches?” She rolled her eyes. “No, Seaweed Brain. That’s hummus. Hubris is worse.” “What could be worse than hummus?” “Hubris means deadly pride, Percy. Thinking you can do things better than anyone else…even the gods.” “You feel that way?”

“Don’t you ever feel like, what if the world really is messed up? What if we could do it all over again from scratch? No more war. Nobody homeless. No more...

‘If I could tear this all down, I would do it better.’ Don’t you ever feel that way? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world?” “Um…no. Me running the world would kind of be a nightmare.”

Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end I convinced her that something would go wrong. The sheep would smell her. Another guardian would appear. Something. And if that happened, I’d be too far away to help.

I made a silent promise to the gods that if we survived this, I’d tell Annabeth she was a genius. The frightening thing was, I knew the gods would hold me to it.

Nobody was going to swat down my friends like that! I mean…nobody, not Nobody. Ah, you know what I mean.

“I am a child of the gods!” Polyphemus swiped at me, but I sidestepped. “Father Poseidon, curse this thief!” He was blinking hard now, like he could barely see, and I realized he was targeting by the sound of my voice. “Poseidon won’t curse me,” I said, backing up as the Cyclops grabbed air. “I’m his son, too. He won’t play favorites.”

The tree struck him with such force it would’ve flattened me into a Percy pizza with extra olives.

I didn’t know how far the hippocampi could take us. I didn’t know where we were going. I just propped up Annabeth so she wouldn’t fall off, covered her in the Golden Fleece that we’d been through so much to get, and said a silent prayer of thanks. Which reminded me…I still owed the gods a debt. “You’re a genius,” I told Annabeth quietly.

“Percy is too nice,” Annabeth grumbled, but I couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, she was a little impressed. I’d surprised her, anyway. And that wasn’t easy to do.

His warriors scattered. I couldn’t blame them. Facing the hooves of a rearing stallion is scary enough, but when it’s a centaur, armed with a bow and whooping it up in a soda-drinking hat, even the bravest warrior would retreat.

A palomino centaur hoisted me onto his back. “Dude, get your big friend!” “Tyson!” I yelled. “Come on!”

Tyson dropped the two warriors he was about to tie into a knot and jogged after us. He jumped on the centaur’s back. “Dude!” the centaur groaned, almost buckling under Tyson’s weight. “Do the words ‘low-carb diet’ mean anything to you?”

I mean, I’ve met plenty of embarrassing parents, but Kronos, the evil titan lord who wanted to destroy Western Civilization? Not the kind of dad you invited to school for career day.

“Oh, listen, Lord Hermes, about Luke…” The god arched his eyebrows. “Uh, we saw him, all right,” I said, “but—” “You weren’t able to talk sense into him?” “Well, we kind of tried to kill each other in a duel to the death.” “I see. You tried the diplomatic approach.”

“We couldn’t have done it without somebody else! We couldn’t have won this race or gotten the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to Tyson, Percy’s…” “Brother!” I said, loud enough for everybody to hear. “Tyson, my baby brother.” Tyson blushed. The crowd cheered. Annabeth planted a kiss on my cheek. The roaring got a lot louder after that.

Woah. Thats so cutesy

“You mean, I can go back to Meriwether next year?” Chiron raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no, they’ve still expelled you. Your headmaster, Mr. Bonsai, said you had—how did he put it?—un-groovy karma that disrupted the school’s educational aura.

Blood roared in my ears. I couldn’t think straight. Annabeth had been attacked?

“Come on!” I yelled to the others. “What’s wrong with you people? Let’s get her to the Big House.” No one moved, not even Chiron. They were all too stunned. Then the girl took a shaky breath. She coughed and opened her eyes. Her irises were startlingly blue—electric blue. The girl stared at me in bewilderment, shivering and wild-eyed. “Who—” “I’m Percy,” I said. “You’re safe now.”

That’s when I knew. Even before she said it. The girl’s blue eyes stared into mine, and I understood what the Golden Fleece quest had been about. The poisoning of the tree. Everything. Kronos had done it to bring another chess piece into play—another chance to control the prophecy.

I was holding someone who was destined to be my best friend, or possibly my worst enemy.

“I am Thalia,” the girl said. “Daughter of Zeus.”