“Why?” I asked.
“Did he say something?” Thalia asked Grover.
“Um, he asked why.”
“Dionysus is calling a council of cabin leaders to discuss the prophecy,” she said. “Unfortunately, that includes Percy.”
* * *
The council was held around a Ping-Pong table in the rec room. Dionysus waved his hand and supplied snacks: Cheez Whiz, crackers, and several bottles of red wine. Then Chiron reminded him that wine was against his restrictions and most of us were underage. Mr. D sighed. With a snap of his fingers the wine turned to Diet Coke. Nobody drank that either.
Mr. D and Chiron (in wheelchair form) sat at one end of the table. Zoë and Bianca di Angelo (who had kind of become Zoë’s personal assistant) took the other end. Thalia and Grover and I sat along the right, and the other head councilors—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers—sat on the left. The Ares kids were supposed to send a representative, too, but all of them had gotten broken limbs (accidentally) during capture the flag, courtesy of the Hunters. They were resting up in the infirmary.
Zoë started the meeting off on a positive note. “This is pointless.”
“Cheez Whiz!” Grover gasped. He began scooping up crackers and Ping-Pong balls and spraying them with topping.
“There is no time for talk,” Zoë continued. “Our goddess needs us. The Hunters must leave immediately.”
“And go where?” Chiron asked.
“West!” Bianca said. I was amazed at how different she looked after just a few days with the Hunters. Her dark hair was braided like Zoë’s now, so you could actually see her face. She had a splash of freckles across her nose, and her dark eyes vaguely reminded me of someone famous, but I couldn’t think who. She looked like she’d been working out, and her skin glowed faintly, like the other Hunters, as if she’d been taking showers in liquid moonlight. “You heard the prophecy. Five shall go west to the goddess in chains. We can get five hunters and go.”
“Yes,” Zoë agreed. “Artemis is being held hostage! We must find her and free her.”
“You’re missing something, as usual,” Thalia said. “Campers and Hunters combined prevail. We’re supposed to do this together.”
“No!” Zoë said. “The Hunters do not need thy help.”
“Your,” Thalia grumbled. “Nobody has said thy in, like, three hundred years, Zoë. Get with the times.”
Zoë hesitated, like she was trying to form the world correctly. “Yerrr. We do not need yerrr help.”
Thalia rolled her eyes. “Forget it.”
“I fear the prophecy says you do need our help,” Chiron said. “Campers and Hunters must cooperate.”
“Or do they?” Mr. D mused, swirling his Diet Coke under his nose like it had a fine bouquet. “One shall be lost. One shall perish. That sounds rather nasty, doesn’t it? What if you fail because you try to cooperate?”
“Mr. D,” Chiron sighed, “with all due respect, whose side are you on?”
Dionysus raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, my dear centaur. Just trying to be helpful.”
“We’re supposed to work together,” Thalia said stubbornly. “I don’t like it either, Zoë, but you know prophecies. You want to fight against one?”
Zoë grimaced, but I could tell Thalia had scored a point.
“We must not delay,” Chiron warned. “Today is Sunday. This very Friday, December twenty-first, is the winter solstice.”
“Oh, joy,” Dionysus muttered. “Another dull annual meeting.”
“Artemis must be present at the solstice,” Zoë said. “She has been one of the most vocal on the council arguing for action against Kronos’s minions. If she is absent, the gods will decide nothing. We will lose another year of war preparations.”
“Are you suggesting that the gods have trouble acting together, young lady?” Dionysus asked.
“Yes, Lord Dionysus.”
Mr. D nodded. “Just checking. You’re right, of course. Carry on.”
“I agree with Zoë,” said Chiron. “Artemis’s presence at the winter council is critical. We have only a week to find her. And possibly even more important: to locate the monster she was hunting. Now we must decide who goes on this quest.”
“Three and two,” I said.
Everybody looked at me. Thalia even forgot to ignore me.
“We’re supposed to have five,” I said, feeling self-conscious. “Three Hunters, two from Camp Half-Blood. That’s more than fair.”
Thalia and Zoë exchanged looks.
“Well,” Thalia said. “It does make sense.”
Zoë grunted. “I would prefer to take all the Hunters. We will need strength of numbers.”
“You’ll be retracing the goddess’s path,” Chiron reminded her. “Moving quickly. No doubt Artemis tracked the scent of this rare monster, whatever it is, as she moved west. You will have to do the same. The prophecy was clear: The bane of Olympus shows the trail. What would your mistress say? ‘Too many Hunters spoil the scent.’ A small group is best.”
Zoë picked up a Ping-Pong paddle and studied it like she was deciding who she wanted to whack first. “This monster—the bane of Olympus. I have hunted at Lady Artemis’s side for many years, yet I have no idea what this beast might be.”
Everybody looked at Dionysus, I guess because he was the only god present and gods are supposed to know things. He was flipping through a wine magazine, but when everybody got silent he glanced up. “Well, don’t look at me. I’m a young god, remember? I don’t keep track of all those ancient monsters and dusty titans. They make for terrible party conversation.”
“Chiron,” I said, “you don’t have any ideas about the monster?”
Chiron pursed his lips. “I have several ideas, none of them good. And none of them quite make sense. Typhon, for instance, could fit this description. He was truly a bane of Olympus. Or the sea monster Keto. But if either of those were stirring, we would know it. They are ocean monsters the size of skyscrapers. Your father, Poseidon, would already have sounded the alarm. I fear this monster may be more elusive. Perhaps even more powerful.”
“That’s some serious danger you’re facing,” Connor Stoll said. (I liked how he said you and not we.) “It sounds like at least two of the five are going to die.”
“One shall be lost in the land without rain,” Beckendorf said. “If I were you, I’d stay out of the desert.”
There was a muttering of agreement.
“And the Titan’s curse must one withstand,” Silena said. “What could that mean?”
I saw Chiron and Zoë exchange a nervous look, but whatever they were thinking, they didn’t share it.
“One shall perish by a parent’s hand,” Grover said in between bites of Cheez Whiz and Ping-Pong balls. “How is that possible? Whose parent would kill them?”
There was heavy silence around the table.
I glanced at Thalia and wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was. Years ago, Chiron had had a prophecy about the next child of the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades—who turned sixteen. Supposedly, that kid would make a decision that would save or destroy the gods forever. Because of that, the Big Three had taken an oath after World War II not to have any more kids. But Thalia and I had been born anyway, and now we were both getting close to sixteen.
I remembered a conversation I’d had last year with Annabeth. I’d asked her, if I was so potentially dangerous, why the gods didn’t just kill me.
Some of the gods would like to kill you, she’d said. But they’re afraid of offending Poseidon.
Could an Olympian parent turn against his half-blood child? Would it sometimes be easier just to let them die? If there were ever any half-bloods who needed to worry about that, it was Thalia and me. I wondered if maybe I should’ve sent Poseidon that seashell pattern tie for Father’s Day after all.
“There will be deaths,” Chiron decided. “That much we know.”
“Oh, goody!” Dionysus said.
Everyone looked at him. He glanced up innocently from the pages of Wine Connoisseur magazine. “Ah, pinot noir is making a comeback. Don’t mind me.”
“Percy is right,” Silena Beauregard said. “Two campers should go.”
“Oh, I see,” Zoë said sarcastically. “And I suppose you wish to volunteer?”
Silena blushed. “I’m not going anywhere with the Hunters. Don’t look at me!”
“A daughter of Aphrodite does not wish to be looked at,” Zoë scoffed. “What would thy mother say?”
Silena started to get out of her chair, but the Stoll brothers pulled her back.
“Stop it,” Beckendorf said. He was a big guy with a bigger voice. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, people tended to listen. “Let’s start with the Hunters. Which three of you will go?”
Zoë stood. “I shall go, of course, and I will take Phoebe. She is our best tracker.”
“The big girl who likes to hit people on the head?” Travis Stoll asked cautiously.
Zoë nodded.
“The one who put the arrows in my helmet?” Connor asked.
“Yes,” Zoë snapped. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing,” Travis said. “Just that we have a T-shirt for her from the camp store.” He held up a big silver T-shirt that said ARTEMIS THE MOON GODDESS, FALL HUNTING TOUR 2002, with a huge list of national parks and stuff underneath. “It’s a collector’s item. She was admiring it. You want to give it to her?”
I knew the Stolls were up to something. They always were. But I guess Zoë didn’t know them as well as I did. She just sighed and took the T-shirt. “As I was saying, I will take Phoebe. And I wish Bianca to go.”
Bianca looked stunned. “Me? But…I’m so new. I wouldn’t be any good.”
“You will do fine,” Zoë insisted. “There is no better way to prove thyself.”
Bianca closed her mouth. I felt kind of sorry for her. I remembered my first quest when I was twelve. I had felt totally unprepared. A little honored, maybe, but a lot resentful and plenty scared. I figured the same things were running around in Bianca’s head right now.
“And for the campers?” Chiron asked. His eyes met mine, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Me!” Grover stood up so fast he bumped the Ping-Pong table. He brushed cracker crumbs and Ping-Pong ball scraps off his lap. “Anything to help Artemis!”
Zoë wrinkled her nose. “I think not, satyr. You are not even a half-blood.”
“But he is a camper,” Thalia said. “And he’s got a satyr’s senses and woodland magic. Can you play a tracker’s song yet, Grover?”
“Absolutely!”
Zoë wavered. I didn’t know what a tracker’s song was, but apparently Zoë thought it was a good thing.
“Very well,” Zoë said. “And the second camper?”
“I’ll go.” Thalia stood and looked around, daring anyone to question her.
Now, okay, maybe my math skills weren’t the best, but it suddenly occurred to me that we’d reached the number five, and I wasn’t in the group. “Whoa, wait a sec,” I said. “I want to go too.”
Thalia said nothing. Chiron was still studying me, his eyes sad.
“Oh,” Grover said, suddenly aware of the problem. “Whoa, yeah, I forgot! Percy has to go. I didn’t mean…I’ll stay. Percy should go in my place.”
“He cannot,” Zoë said. “He is a boy. I won’t have Hunters traveling with a boy.”
“You traveled here with me,” I reminded her.
“That was a short-term emergency, and it was ordered by the goddess. I will not go across country and fight many dangers in the company of a boy.”
“What about Grover?” I demanded.
Zoë shook her head. “He does not count. He’s a satyr. He is not technically a boy.”
“Hey!” Grover protested.
“I have to go,” I said. “I need to be on this quest.”
“Why?” Zoë asked. “Because of thy friend Annabeth?”
I felt myself blushing. I hated that everyone was looking at me. “No! I mean, partly. I just feel like I’m supposed to go!”
Nobody rose to my defense. Mr. D looked bored, still reading his magazine. Silena, the Stoll brothers, and Beckendorf were staring at the table. Bianca gave me a look of pity.
“No,” Zoë said flatly. “I insist upon this. I will take a satyr if I must, but not a male hero.”
Chiron sighed. “The quest is for Artemis. The Hunters should be allowed to approve their companions.”
My ears were ringing as I sat down. I knew Grover and some of the others were looking at me sympathetically, but I couldn’t meet their eyes. I just sat there as Chiron concluded the council.
“So be it,” he said. “Thalia and Grover will accompany Zoë, Bianca, and Phoebe. You shall leave at first light. And may the gods”—he glanced at Dionysus—“present company included, we hope—be with you.”
* * *
I didn’t show up for dinner that night, which was a mistake, because Chiron and Grover came looking for me.
“Percy, I’m so sorry!” Grover said, sitting next to me on the bunk. “I didn’t know they’d—that you’d—Honest!”
He started to sniffle, and I figured if I didn’t cheer him up he’d either start bawling or chewing up my mattress. He tends to eat household objects whenever he gets upset.
“It’s okay,” I lied. “Really, It’s fine.”
Grover’s lower lip trembled. “I wasn’t even thinking…I was so focused on helping Artemis. But I promise, I’ll look everywhere for Annabeth. If I can find her, I will.”
I nodded and tried to ignore the big crater that was opening in my chest.
“Grover,” Chiron said, “perhaps you’d let me have a word with Percy?”
“Sure,” he sniffled.
Chiron waited.
“Oh,” Grover said. “You mean alone. Sure, Chiron.” He looked at me miserably. “See? Nobody needs a goat.”
He trotted out the door, blowing his nose on his sleeve.
Chiron sighed and knelt on his horse legs. “Percy, I don’t pretend to understand prophecies.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Well, maybe that’s because they don’t make any sense.”
Chiron gazed at the saltwater spring gurgling in the corner of the room. “Thalia would not have been my first choice to go on this quest. She’s too impetuous. She acts without thinking. She is too sure of herself.”
“Would you have chosen me?”
“Frankly, no,” he said. “You and Thalia are much alike.”
“Thanks a lot.”
He smiled. “The difference is that you are less sure of yourself than Thalia. That could be good or bad. But one thing I can say: both of you together would be a dangerous thing.”
“We could handle it.”
“The way you handled it at the creek tonight?”
I didn’t answer. He’d nailed me.
“Perhaps it is for the best,” Chiron mused. “You can go home to your mother for the holidays. If we need you, we can call.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.”
I pulled riptide out of my pocket and set it on my nightstand. It didn’t seem that I’d be using it for anything but writing Christmas cards.
When he saw the pen, Chiron grimaced. “It’s no wonder Zoë doesn’t want you along, I suppose. Not while you’re carrying that particular weapon.”
I didn’t understand what he meant. Then I rememberd something he’d told me a long time ago, when he first gave me the magic sword: It has a long and tragic history, which we need not go into.
I wanted to ask him about that, but then he pulled a golden drachma from his saddlebag and tossed it to me. “Call your mother, Percy. Let her know you’re coming home in the morning. And, ah, for what it’s worth…I almost volunteered for this quest myself. I would have gone, if not for the last line.”
