Percy Jackson The Complete Collection (39 page)

I looked around at the hopeless maze of sail and ropes. The ship was in great condition for a three-hundred-year-old vessel, but it would still take a crew of fifty several hours to get underway. We didn’t have several hours. I could
see the pirates running down the stairs, waving tiki torches and sticks of celery.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the waves lapping against the hull, the ocean currents, the winds all around me. Suddenly, the right word appeared in my mind. ‘Mizzenmast!’ I yelled.

Annabeth looked at me like I was nuts, but in the next second, the air was filled with whistling sounds of ropes being snapped taut, canvases unfurling and wooden pulleys creaking.

Annabeth ducked as a cable flew over her head and wrapped itself around the bowsprit. ‘Percy, how…’

I didn’t have an answer, but I could feel the ship responding to me as if it were part of my body. I willed the sails to rise as easily as if I were flexing my arm. I willed the rudder to turn.

The
Queen Anne’s Revenge
lurched away from the dock, and by the time the pirates arrived at the water’s edge, we were already underway, sailing into the Sea of Monsters.

13    Annabeth Tries to Swim Home
 

I’d finally found something I was really good at.

The
Queen Anne’s Revenge
responded to my every command. I knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer. We ploughed through the waves at what I figured was about ten knots. I even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty darn fast.

It all felt perfect – the wind in my face, the waves breaking over the prow.

But now that we were out of danger, all I could think about was how much I missed Tyson, and how worried I was about Grover.

I couldn’t get over how badly I’d messed up on Circe’s Island. If it hadn’t been for Annabeth, I’d still be a rodent, hiding in a hutch with a bunch of cute furry pirates. I thought about what Circe had said:
See, Percy? You’ve unlocked your true self!

I still felt changed. Not just because I had a sudden desire to eat lettuce. I felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal was now a part of me. Or maybe it had always been there. That’s what really worried me.

We sailed through the night.

Annabeth tried to help me keep lookout, but sailing didn’t agree with her. After a few hours’ rocking back and
forth, her face turned the colour of guacamole and she went below to lie in a hammock.

I watched the horizon. More than once I spotted monsters. A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spewed into the moonlight. A row of green spines slithered across the waves – something maybe thirty metres long, reptilian. I didn’t really want to know.

Once I saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. I tried to wave at them, but they disappeared into the depths, leaving me unsure whether they’d seen me or not.

Sometime after midnight, Annabeth came up on deck. We were just passing a smoking volcano island. The sea bubbled and steamed around the shore.

‘One of the forges of Hephaestus,’ Annabeth said. ‘Where he makes his metal monsters.’

‘Like the bronze bulls?’

She nodded. ‘Go around. Far around.’

I didn’t need to be told twice. We steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind us.

I looked at Annabeth. ‘The reason you hate Cyclopes so much … the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?’

It was hard to see her expression in the dark.

‘I guess you deserve to know,’ she said finally. ‘The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?’

I nodded.

‘Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops’s lair in Brooklyn.’

‘They’ve got Cyclopes in Brooklyn?’ I asked.

‘You wouldn’t believe how many, but that’s not the point. This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone, Percy. Just the way Tyson did aboard the
Princess Andromeda
. He lured us, one at time. Thalia thought she was running to save Luke. Luke thought he heard me scream for help. And me … I was alone in the dark. I was seven years old. I couldn’t even find the exit.’

She brushed the hair out of her face. ‘I remember finding the main room. There were bones all over the floor. And there were Thalia and Luke and Grover, tied up and gagged, hanging from the ceiling like smoked hams. The Cyclops was starting a fire in the middle of the floor. I drew my knife, but he heard me. He turned and smiled. He spoke, and somehow he knew my dad’s voice. I guess he just plucked it out of my mind. He said, “Now, Annabeth, don’t you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. You can stay forever.’ ”

I shivered. The way she told it – even now, six years later – freaked me out worse than any ghost story I’d ever heard. ‘What did you do?’

‘I stabbed him in the foot.’

I stared at her. ‘Are you kidding? You were seven years old and you stabbed a grown Cyclops in the foot?’

‘Oh, he would’ve killed me. But I surprised him. It gave me just enough time to run to Thalia and cut the ropes on her hands. She took it from there.’

‘Yeah, but still … that was pretty brave, Annabeth.’

She shook her head. ‘We barely got out alive. I still have nightmares, Percy. The way that Cyclops talked in my
father’s voice. It was his fault we took so long getting to camp. All the monsters who’d been chasing us had time to catch up. That’s really why Thalia died. If it hadn’t been for that Cyclops, she’d still be alive today.’

We sat on the deck, watching the Heracles constellation rise in the night sky.

‘Go below,’ Annabeth told me at last. ‘You need some rest.’

I nodded. My eyes were heavy. But when I got below and found a hammock, it took me a long time to fall asleep. I kept thinking about Annabeth’s story. I wondered, if I were her, would I have had enough courage to go on this quest, to sail straight towards the lair of another Cyclops?

I didn’t dream about Grover.

Instead I found myself back in Luke’s stateroom aboard the
Princess Andromeda
. The curtains were open. It was nighttime outside. The air swirled with shadows. Voices whispered all around me – spirits of the dead.

Beware
, they whispered.
Traps. Trickery.

Kronos’s golden sarcophagus glowed faintly – the only source of light in the room.

A cold laugh startled me. It seemed to come from miles below the ship.
You don’t have the courage, young one. You can’t stop me.

I knew what I had to do. I had to open that coffin.

I uncapped Riptide. Ghosts whirled around me like a tornado.
Beware!

My heart pounded. I couldn’t make my feet move, but I had to stop Kronos. I had to destroy whatever was in that box.

Then a girl spoke right next to me, ‘Well, Seaweed Brain?’

I looked over, expecting to see Annabeth, but the girl wasn’t Annabeth. She wore punk-style clothes with silver chains on her wrists. She had spiky black hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy blue eyes and a spray of freckles across her nose. She looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.

‘Well?’ she asked. ‘Are we going to stop him or not?’

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t move.

The girl rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. Leave it to me and Aegis.’

She tapped her wrist and her silver chains transformed – flattening and expanding into a huge shield. It was silver and bronze, with the monstrous face of Medusa protruding from the centre. It looked like a death mask, as if the gorgon’s real head had been pressed into the metal. I didn’t know if that were true, or if the shield could really petrify me, but I looked away. Just being near it made me cold with fear. I got a feeling that in a real fight, the bearer of that shield would be almost impossible to beat. Any sane enemy would turn and run.

The girl drew her sword and advanced on the sarcophagus. The shadowy ghosts parted for her, scattering before the terrible aura of her shield.

‘No,’ I tried to warn her.

But she didn’t listen. She marched straight up to the sarcophagus and pushed aside the golden lid.

For a moment she stood there, gazing down at whatever was in the box.

The coffin began to glow.

‘No.’ The girl’s voice trembled. ‘It can’t be.’

From the depths of the ocean, Kronos laughed so loudly the whole ship trembled.

‘No!’ The girl screamed as the sarcophagus engulfed her in a blast of golden light.

‘Ah!’ I sat bolt upright in my hammock.

Annabeth was shaking me. ‘Percy, you were having a nightmare. You need to get up.’

‘Wh-what is it?’ I rubbed my eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Land,’ she said grimly. ‘We’re approaching the island of the Sirens.’

I could barely make out the island ahead of us – just a dark spot in the mist.

‘I want you to do me a favour,’ Annabeth said. ‘The Sirens … we’ll be in range of their singing soon.’

I remembered stories about the Sirens. They sang so sweetly their voices enchanted sailors and lured them to their death.

‘No problem,’ I assured her. ‘We can just stop up our ears. There’s a big tub of candle wax below deck –’

‘I want to hear them.’

I blinked. ‘Why?’

‘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.

As soon as the rocky coastline of the island came into
view
, I ordered one of the ropes to wrap around Annabeth’s waist, tying her to the foremast.

‘Don’t untie me,’ she said, ‘no matter what happens or how much I plead. I’ll want to go straight over the edge and drown myself.’

‘Are you trying to tempt me?’

‘Ha-ha.’

I promised I’d keep her secure. Then I took two large wads of candle wax, kneaded them into earplugs, and stuffed my ears.

Annabeth nodded sarcastically, letting me know the earplugs were a real fashion statement. I made a face at her and turned to the pilot’s wheel.

The silence was eerie. I couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in my head. As we approached the island, jagged rocks loomed out of the fog. I willed the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
to skirt around them. If we sailed any closer, those rocks would shred our hull like blender blades.

I glanced back. At first, Annabeth seemed totally normal. Then she got a puzzled look on her face. Her eyes widened.

She strained against the ropes. She called my name – I could tell just from reading her lips. Her expression was clear: she had to get out. This was life or death. I had to let her out of the ropes
right now.

She seemed so miserable it was hard not to cut her free.

I forced myself to look away. I urged the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
to go faster.

I still couldn’t see much of the island – just mist and rocks – but floating in the water were pieces of wood and fibreglass, the wreckage of old ships, even some flotation cushions from aeroplanes.

How could music cause so many lives to veer off course? I mean, sure, there were some Top Forty songs that made me want to take a fiery nosedive, but still … What could the Sirens possibly sing about?

For one dangerous moment, I understood Annabeth’s curiosity. I was tempted to take out the earplugs, just to get a taste of the song. I could feel the Sirens’ voices vibrating in the timbers of the ship, pulsing along with the roar of blood in my ears.

Annabeth was pleading with me. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She strained against the ropes, as if they were holding her back from everything she cared about.

How could you be so cruel?
she seemed to be asking me.
I thought you were my friend.

I glared at the misty island. I wanted to uncap my sword, but there was nothing to fight. How do you fight a song?

I tried hard not to look at Annabeth. I managed it for about five minutes.

That was my big mistake.

When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I looked back and found … a heap of cut ropes. An empty mast. Annabeth’s bronze knife lay on the deck. Somehow, she’d managed to wriggle it into her hand. I’d totally forgotten to disarm her.

I rushed to the side of the boat and saw her paddling
madly for the island, the waves carrying her straight towards the jagged rocks.

I screamed her name, but if she heard me, it didn’t do any good. She was entranced, swimming towards her death.

I looked back at the pilot’s wheel and yelled, ‘Stay!’

Then I jumped over the side.

I sliced into the water and willed the currents to bend around me, making a jet stream that shot me forward.

I came to the surface and spotted Annabeth, but a wave caught her, sweeping her between two razor-sharp fangs of rock.

I had no choice. I plunged after her.

I dived under the wrecked hull of a yacht, wove through a collection of floating metal balls on chains that I realized afterwards were mines. I had to use all my power over water to avoid getting smashed against the rocks or tangled in the nets of barbed wire strung just below the surface.

I jetted between the two rock fangs and found myself in a half-moon-shaped bay. The water was choked with more rocks and ship wreckage and floating mines. The beach was black volcanic sand.

I looked around desperately for Annabeth.

There she was.

Luckily or unluckily, she was a strong swimmer. She’d made it past the mines and the rocks. She was almost to the black beach.

Then the mist cleared and I saw them – the Sirens.

Imagine a flock of vultures the size of people – with dirty black plumage, grey talons and wrinkled pink necks. Now imagine human heads on top of those necks, but the human heads keep changing.

I couldn’t hear them, but I could see they were singing. As their mouths moved, their faces morphed into people I knew – my mom, Poseidon, Grover, Tyson, Chiron. All the people I most wanted to see. They smiled reassuringly, inviting me forward. But no matter what shape they took, their mouths were greasy and caked with the remnants of old meals. Like vultures, they’d been eating with their faces, and it didn’t look like they’d been feasting on Monster Doughnuts.

Annabeth swam towards them.

I knew I couldn’t let her get out of the water. The sea was my only advantage. It had always protected me one way or another. I propelled myself forward and grabbed her ankle.

The moment I touched her, a shock went through my body, and I saw the Sirens the way Annabeth must’ve been seeing them.

Three people sat on a picnic blanket in Central Park. A feast was spread out before them. I recognized Annabeth’s dad from photos she’d shown me – an athletic-looking, sandy-haired guy in his forties. He was holding hands with a beautiful woman who looked a lot like Annabeth. She was dressed casually – in blue jeans and a denim shirt and hiking boots – but something about the woman radiated power. I knew that I was looking at the goddess Athena. Next to them sat a young man … Luke.

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