Behind me, Annabeth cried out in pain. “Annabeth!” I turned in time to see her fall, clutching her arm. A demigod with a bloody knife stood over her. In a flash I understood what had happened. He’d been trying to stab me. Judging from the position of his blade, he would’ve taken me—maybe by sheer luck—in the small of my back, my only weak point. Annabeth had intercepted the knife with her own body. But why? She didn’t know about my weak spot. No one did.
The gasp I just let out
