The Lightning Thief

plane. She’d always said we didn’t have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.
    “Percy, think,” Chiron said. “You are the son of the Sea God. Your father’s bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus’s domain. You would never come down again alive.”
    Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.
    “Okay,” I said, determined not to look at the storm. “So, I’ll travel overland.”
    “That’s right,” Chiron said. “Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help.”
    “Gee,” I said, feigning surprise. “Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?”
    The air shimmered behind Chiron.
    Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.
    “I’ve been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain,” she said. “Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you’re going to save the world, I’m the best person to keep you from messing up.”
    “If you do say so yourself,” I said. “I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?”
    Her cheeks colored. “Do you want my help or not?”
    The truth was, I did. I needed all the help I could get.
    “A trio,” I said. “That’ll work.”
    “Excellent,” Chiron said. “This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own.”
    Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.
    “No time to waste,” Chiron said. “I think you should all get packing.”

I RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD BUS
    I t didn’t take me long to pack. I decided to leave the Minotaur horn in my cabin, which left me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me.
    The camp store loaned me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions—whatever that meant. He gave Annabeth and me each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally.
    Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told me had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector.
    Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart’s Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff’s “So Yesterday,” both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.
    We waved good-bye to the other campers, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus.
    Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood the surfer dude I’d seen when I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy was the camp’s head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur’s uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck.
    “This is Argus,” Chiron told me. “He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things.”
    I heard footsteps behind us.
    Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes.
    “Hey!” he panted. “Glad I caught you.”
    Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around.
    “Just wanted to say good luck,” Luke told me.