The Titan's Curse

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 added.
    “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 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