The Titan's Curse

up. “We’ll find a way.”
    Over at the basketball court, a few of the Hunters were shooting hoops. One of them was arguing with a guy from the Ares cabin. The Ares kid had his hand on his sword and the Hunter girl looked like she was going to exchange her basketball for a bow and arrow any second.
    “I’ll break that up,” Thalia said. “You circulate around the cabins. Tell everybody about capture the flag tomorrow.”
    “All right. You should be team captain.”
    “No, no,” she said. “You’ve been at camp longer. You do it.”
    “We can, uh . . . co-captain or something.”
    She looked about as comfortable with that as I felt, but she nodded.
    As she headed for the court, I said, “Hey, Thalia.”
    “Yeah?”
    “I’m sorry about what happened at Westover. I should’ve waited for you guys.”
    “’S okay, Percy. I probably would’ve done the same thing.” She shifted from foot to foot, like she was trying to decide whether or not to say more. “You know, you asked about my mom and I kinda snapped at you. It’s just . . . I went back to find her after seven years, and I found out she died in Los Angeles. She, um . . . she was a heavy drinker, and apparently she was out driving late one night about two years ago, and . . .” Thalia blinked hard.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Yeah, well. It’s . . . it’s not like we were ever close. I ran away when I was ten. Best two years of my life were when I was running around with Luke and Annabeth. But still—”
    “That’s why you had trouble with the sun van.”
    She gave me a wary look. “What do you mean?”
    “The way you stiffened up. You must’ve been thinking about your mom, not wanting to get behind the wheel.”
    I was sorry I’d said anything. Thalia’s expression was dangerously close to Zeus’s, the one time I’d seen him get angry— like any minute, her eyes would shoot a million volts.
    “Yeah,” she muttered. “Yeah, that must’ve been it.”
    She trudged off toward the court, where the Ares camper and the Hunter were trying to kill each other with a sword and a basketball.
    The cabins were the weirdest collection of buildings you’ve ever seen. Zeus and Hera’s big white-columned buildings, Cabins One and Two, stood in the middle, with five gods’ cabins on the left and five goddesses’ cabins on the right, so they all made a U around the central green and the barbecue hearth.
    I made the rounds, telling everybody about capture the flag. I woke up some Ares kid from his midday nap and he yelled at me to go away. When I asked him where Clarisse was he said, “Went on a quest for Chiron. Top secret!”
    “Is she okay?”
    “Haven’t heard from her in a month. She’s missing in action. Like your butt’s gonna be if you don’t get outta here!”
    I decided to let him go back to sleep.
    Finally I got to Cabin Three, the cabin of Poseidon. It was a low gray building hewn from sea stone, with shells and coral fossils imprinted in the rock. Inside, it was just as empty as always, except for my bunk. A Minotaur horn hung on the wall next to my pillow.
    I took Annabeth’s baseball cap out of my backpack and set it on my nightstand. I’d give it to her when I found her. And I would find her.
    I took off my wristwatch and activated the shield. It creaked noisily as it spiraled out. Dr. Thorn’s spikes had dented the brass in a dozen places. One gash kept the shield from opening all the way, so it looked like a pizza with two slices missing. The beautiful metal pictures that my brother had crafted were all banged up. In the picture of me and Annabeth fighting the Hydra, it looked like a meteor had made a crater in my head. I hung the shield on its hook, next to the Minotaur horn, but it was painful to look at now. Maybe Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin could fix it for me. He was the best armorsmith in the camp. I’d ask him at dinner.
    I was staring at the shield when I noticed a strange sound—water gurgling—and I realized there was something new in the room. At the back of the cabin was a big basin of gray sea rock, with a spout like the head of a fish carved in stone. Out of its mouth burst a stream of water, a saltwater spring that trickled into the pool. The water must’ve been hot, because it sent mist into the cold winter air like a sauna. It made the room feel warm and summery, fresh with the smell of the sea.
    I stepped up to the pool. There was no note attached or anything, but I knew it could only be