The Lightning Thief

me, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.
    So much for the plan.
    Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.
    “Um,” Grover said. “Percy?”
    “Yeah?”
    “I just thought you’d want to know.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Cerberus? He’s saying we’ve got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that . . . well . . . he’s hungry.”
    “Wait!” Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack.
    Uh-oh, I thought.
    “Five seconds,” Grover said. “Do we run now?”
    Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before I could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.
    She shouted, “See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!”
    Cerberus looked as stunned as we were.
    All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.
    “Sit!” Annabeth called again.
    I was sure that any moment she would become the world’s largest Milkbone dog biscuit.
    But instead, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who’d been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.
    Annabeth said, “Good boy!”
    She threw Cerberus the ball.
    He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.
    “Drop it!” Annabeth ordered.
    Cerberus’s heads stopped fighting and looked at her. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth’s feet.
    “Good boy.” She picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.
    She turned toward us. “Go now. EZ DEATH line—it’s faster.”
    I said, “But—”
    “Now!” She ordered, in the same tone she was using on the dog.
    Grover and I inched forward warily.
    Cerberus started to growl.
    “Stay!” Annabeth ordered the monster. “If you want the ball, stay!”
    Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.
    “What about you?” I asked Annabeth as we passed her.
    “I know what I’m doing, Percy,” she muttered. “At least, I’m pretty sure. . . .”
    Grover and I walked between the monster’s legs.
    Please, Annabeth, I prayed. Don’t tell him to sit again.
    We made it through. Cerberus wasn’t any less scary-looking from the back.
    Annabeth said, “Good dog!”
    She held up the tattered red ball, and probably came to the same conclusion I did—if she rewarded Cerberus, there’d be nothing left for another trick.
    She threw the ball anyway. The monster’s left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.
    While the monster was distracted, Annabeth walked briskly under its belly and joined us at the metal detector.
    “How did you do that?” I asked her, amazed.
    “Obedience school,” she said breathlessly, and I was surprised to see there were tears in her eyes. “When I was little, at my dad’s house, we had a Doberman. . . .”
    “Never mind that,” Grover said, tugging at my shirt. “Come on!”
    We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. Annabeth stopped.
    She turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at us.
    Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.
    “Good boy,” Annabeth said, but her voice sounded melancholy and uncertain.
    The monster’s heads turned sideways, as if worried about her.
    “I’ll bring you another ball soon,” Annabeth promised faintly. “Would you like that?”
    The monster whimpered. I didn’t need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for the ball.
    “Good dog. I’ll come visit you soon. I—I promise.” Annabeth turned to us. “Let’s go.”
    Grover and I pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights. “Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!”
    Cerberus started to bark.
    We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.
    A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.
    Grover