by Rick Riordan
"Stymphalian birds!" Annabeth yelled. She slowed down and pulled her chariot alongside mine. "They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away!"
"Tyson," I said, "we're turning around!"
"Going the wrong way?" he asked.
"Always," I grumbled, but I steered the chariot toward the stands.
Annabeth rode right next to me. She shouted, "Heroes, to arms!" But I wasn't sure anyone could hear her over the screeching of the birds and the general chaos.
I held my reins in one hand and managed to draw Riptide as a wave of birds dived at my face, their metal beaks snapping. I slashed them out of the air and they exploded into dust and feathers, but there were still millions of them left. One nailed me in the back end and I almost jumped straight out of the chariot.
Annabeth wasn't having much better luck. The closer we got to the stands, the thicker the cloud of birds became.
Some of the spectators were trying to fight back. The Athena campers were calling for shields. The archers from Apollo's cabin brought out their bows and arrows, ready to slay the menace, but with so many campers mixed in with the birds, it wasn't safe to shoot.
"Too many!" I yelled to Annabeth. "How do you get rid of them?"
She stabbed at a pigeon with her knife. "Hercules used noise! Brass bells! He scared them away with the most horrible sound he could—"
Her eyes got wide. "Percy… Chiron's collection!"
I understood instantly. "You think it'll work?"
She handed her fighter the reins and leaped from her chariot into mine like it was the easiest thing in the world. "To the Big House! It's our only chance!"
Clarisse has just pulled across the finish line, completely unopposed, and seemed to notice for the first time how serious the bird problem was.
When she saw us driving away, she yelled, "You're running? The fight is here, cowards!" She drew her sword and charged for the stands.
I urged our horses into a gallop. The chariot rumbled through the strawberry fields, across the volleyball pit, and lurched to a halt in front of the Big House. Annabeth and I ran inside, tearing down the hallway to Chiron's apartment.
His boom box was still on his nightstand. So were his favorite CDs. I grabbed the most repulsive one I could find, Annabeth snatched the boom box, and together we ran back outside.
Down at the track, the chariots were in flames. Wounded campers ran in every direction, with birds shredding their clothes and pulling out their hair, while Tantalus chased breakfast pastries around the stands, every once in a while yelling, "Everything's under control! Not to worry. "
We pulled up to the finish line. Annabeth got the boom box ready. I prayed the batteries weren't dead.
I pressed PLAY and started up Chiron's favorite—the All-Time Greatest Hits of Dean Martin. Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.
The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.
"Now!" shouted Annabeth. "Archers!"
With clear targets, Apollo's archers had flawless aim. Most of them could nock five or six arrows at once. Within minutes, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beaked pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon.
The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite's cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes pooped on.
"Bravo!" Tantalus said, but he wasn't looking at me or Annabeth. "We have our first winner!" He walked to "He finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse.
Then he turned and smiled at me. "And now to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race."
SEVEN
I ACCEPT GIFTS
FROM A STRANGER
The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Annabeth, Tyson, and I hadn't disturbed them with our bad chariot driving.
This was so completely unfair, I told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut, which didn't help his mood. He sentenced us to kitchen patrol—scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so Annabeth and I had to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.
Tyson didn't mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and started scrubbing, but Annabeth and I had to suffer through hours of hot, dangerous work, especially since there were tons of extra plates. Tantalus had ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory—a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.
The only good thing about our punishment was that it gave Annabeth and me a common enemy and lots of time to talk. After listening to my dream about Grover again, she looked like she might be starting to believe me.
"If he's really found it," she murmured, "and if we could retrieve it—"
"Hold on," I said. "You act like this… whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save the camp. What is it?"
"I'll give you a hint. What do you get when you skin a ram?"
"Messy?"
She sighed. "A fleece. The coat of a ram is called a fleece. And if that ram happens to have golden wool—"
"The Golden Fleece. Are you serious?"
Annabeth scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. "Percy, remember the Gray Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mentioned Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told him how to find the Golden Fleece. You do know the story of Jason and the Argonauts?"
"Yeah," I said. "That old movie with the clay skeletons."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh my gods, Percy! You are so hopeless."
"What?" I demanded.
"Just listen. The real story of the Fleece: there were these two children of Zeus, Cadmus and Europa, okay? They were about to get offered up as human sacrifices, when they prayed to Zeus to save them. So Zeus sent this magical flying ram with golden wool, which picked them up in Greece and carried them all the way to Colchis in Asia Minor. Well, actually it carried Cadmus. Europa fell off and died along the way, but that's not important."
"It was probably important to her."
"The point is, when Cadmus got to Colchis, he sacrificed the golden ram to the gods and hung the Fleece in a tree in the middle of the kingdom. The Fleece brought prosperity to the land. Animals stopped getting sick. Plants grew better. Farmers had bumper crops. Plagues never visited. That's why Jason wanted the Fleece. It can revitalize any land where it's placed. It cures sickness, strengthens nature, cleans up pollution—"
"It could cure Thalia's tree."
Annabeth nodded. "And it would totally strengthen the borders of Camp Half-Blood. But Percy, the Fleece has been missing for centuries. Tons of heroes have searched for it with no luck."
"But Grover found it," I said. "He went looking for Pan and he found the Fleece instead because they both radiate nature magic. It makes sense, Annabeth. We can rescue him and save the camp at the same time. It's perfect!"
Annabeth hesitated. "A little too perfect, don't you think? What if it's a trap?"
I remembered last summer, how Kronos had manipulated our quest. He'd almost fooled us into helping him start a war that would've destroyed Western Civilization.
"What choice do we have?" I asked. "Are you going to help me rescue Grover or not?"
She glanced at Tyson, who'd lost interest in our conversation and was happily making toy boats out of cups and spoons in the lava.
"Percy," she said under her breath, "we'll have to fight a Cyclops. Polyphemus, the worst of the Cyclopes. And t
here's only one place his island could be. The Sea of Monsters."
"Where's that?"
She stared at me like she thought I was playing dumb. "The Sea of Monsters. The same sea Odysseus sailed through, and Jason, and Aeneas, and all the others."
"You mean the Mediterranean?"
"No. Well, yes… but no."
"Another straight answer. Thanks."
"Look, Percy, the Sea of Monsters is the sea all heroes sail through on their adventures. It used to be in the Mediterranean, yes. But like everything else, it shifts locations as the West's center of power shifts."
"Like Mount Olympus being above the Empire State Building," I said. "And Hades being under Los Angeles."
"Right."
"But a whole sea full of monsters—how could you hide something like that? Wouldn't the mortals notice weird things happening… like, ships getting eaten and stuff?"
"Of course they notice. They don't understand, but they know something is strange about that part of the ocean. 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."
I let that sink in. I guess it wasn't stranger than anything else I'd learned since coming to Camp Half-Blood. "Okay… so at least we know where to look."
"It's still a huge area, Percy. Searching for one tiny island in monster-infested waters—"
"Hey, I'm the son of the sea god. This is my home turf. How hard can it be?"
Annabeth knit her eyebrows. "We'll have to talk to Tantalus, get approval for a quest. He'll say no."
"Not if we tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody. The whole camp will hear. They'll pressure him. He won't be able to refuse."
"Maybe." A little bit of hope crept into Annabeth's voice. "We'd better get these dishes done. Hand me the lava spray gun, will you?"
That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. We all sat around a semicircle of stone steps, singing halfheartedly and watching the bonfire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.
We did all the standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land." The bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, I'd seen it twenty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallows burst into the flames. Tonight, the fire was only five feet high, barely warm, and the flames were the color of lint.
Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Then he gave Tantalus a distasteful look and headed back toward the Big House.
When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!"
He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames.
Tantalus turned back toward us, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."
"Sir," I said.
Tantalus's eye twitched. "Our kitchen boy has something to say?"
Some of the Ares campers snickered, but I wasn't going to let anybody embarrass me into silence. I stood and looked at Annabeth. Thank the gods, she stood up with me.
I said, "We have an idea to save the camp."
Dead silence, but I could tell I'd gotten everybody's interest, because the campfire flared bright yellow.
"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—"
"The Golden Fleece," I said. "We know where it is."
The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop me, I blurted out my dream about Grover and Polyphemus's island. Annabeth stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincing coming from her.
"The Fleece can save the camp," she concluded. "I'm certain of it."
"Nonsense," said Tantalus. "We don't need saving."
Everybody stared at him until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.
"Besides," he added quickly, "the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."
"Yes, I would," I said.
Annabeth leaned toward me and whispered, "You would?"
I nodded, because Annabeth had jogged something in my memory when she reminded me about our taxi drive with the Gray Sisters. At the time, the information they'd given me made no sense. But now…
"30, 31, 75, 12," I said.
"Ooo-kay," Tantalus said. "Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers."
"They're sailing coordinates," I said. "Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies."
Even Annabeth looked impressed. "30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. He's right! The Gray Sisters gave us those coordinates. That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!"
"Wait just a minute," Tantalus said.
But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"
The flames rose higher.
"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted.
"WE NEED A QUEST! WE NEED A QUEST!"
"Fine!" Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. "You brats want me to assign a quest?"
"YES!"
"Very well," he agreed. "I shall authorize a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying."
My heart filled with excitement. I wasn't going to let Tantalus scare me. This was what I needed to do. I was going to save Grover and the camp. Nothing would stop me.
"I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!" Tantalus announced. "And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champion is obvious."
Tantalus looked at Annabeth and me as if he wanted to flay us alive. "The champion should be one who has earned the camp's respect, who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. You shall lead this quest… Clarisse!"
The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering, "CLARISSE! CLARISSE!"
Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chest swelled with pride. "I accept the quest!"
"Wait!" I shouted. "Grover is my friend. The dream came to me."
"Sit down!" yelled one of the Ares campers. "You had your chance last summer!"
"Yeah, he just wants to be in the spotlight again!" another said.
Clarisse glared at me. "I accept the quest!" she repeated. "I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!"
The Ares campers cheered even louder. Annabeth protested, and the other Athena campers joined in. Everybody else started taking sides—shouting and arguing and throwing marshmallows. I thought it was going to turn into a full-fledged s'more war until Tantalus shouted, "Silence, you brats!"
His tone stunned even me.
"Sit down!" he ordered. "And I will tell you a ghost story."
I didn't know what he was up to, but we all moved reluctantly back to our seats. The evil aura radiating from Tantalus was as strong as any monster I'd ever faced.
"Once upon a time there was a mortal king who was beloved of the Gods!" Tantalus put his hand on his chest, and I got the feeling he was talking about himself.
"This king," he said, "was even allowed to feast on Mount Olympus. But when he tried to take some ambrosia and nectar back to earth to figure out the recipe—just one little doggie bag, mind you—the gods punished him. They banned him from their halls forever! His own people mocked him! His children scolded him! And, oh yes, campers
, he had horrible children. Children—just—like— you."
He pointed a crooked finger at several people in the audience, including me.
"Do you know what he did to his ungrateful children?" Tantalus asked softly. "Do you know how he paid back the gods for their cruel punishment? He invited the Olympians to a feast at his palace, just to show there were no hard feelings. No one noticed that his children were missing. And when he served the gods dinner, my dear campers, can you guess what was in the stew?"
No one dared answer. The firelight glowed dark blue, reflecting evilly on Tantalus's crooked face.
"Oh, the gods punished him in the afterlife," Tantalus croaked. "They did indeed. But he'd had his moment of satisfaction, hadn't he? His children never again spoke back to him or questioned his authority. And do you know what? Rumor has it that the king's spirit now dwells at this very camp, waiting for a chance to take revenge on ungrateful, rebellious children. And so… are there any more complaints, before we send Clarisse off on her quest?"
Silence.
Tantalus nodded at Clarisse. "The Oracle, my dear. Go on."
She shifted uncomfortably, like even she didn't want glory at the price of being Tantalus's pet. "Sir—"
"Go!" he snarled.
She bowed awkwardly and hurried off toward the Big House.
"What about you, Percy Jackson?" Tantalus asked. "No comments from our dishwasher?"
I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of punishing me again.
"Good," Tantalus said. "And let me remind everyone— no one leaves this camp without my permission. Anyone who tries… well, if they survive the attempt, they will be expelled forever, but it won't come to that. The harpies will be enforcing curfew from now on, and they are always hungry! Good night, my dear campers. Sleep well."
With a wave of Tantalus's hand, the fire was extinguished, and the campers trailed off toward their cabins in the dark.