The Titan's Curse

and I see a lot. But even I don’t know that. She’s . . . clouded from me. I don’t like it.”
    “And Annabeth?”
    He frowned. “Oh, you mean that girl you lost? Hmm. I don’t know.”
    I tried not to feel mad. I knew the gods had a hard time taking mortals seriously, even half-bloods. We lived such short lives, compared to the gods.
    “What about the monster Artemis was seeking?” I asked. “Do you know what it is?”
    “No,” Apollo said. “But there is one who might. If you haven’t yet found the monster when you reach San Francisco, seek out Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea. He has a long memory and a sharp eye. He has the gift of knowledge sometimes kept obscure from my Oracle.”
    “But it’s your Oracle,” I protested. “Can’t you tell us what the prophecy means?”
    Apollo sighed. “You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search.”
    “In other words, you don’t know.”
    Apollo checked his watch. “Ah, look at the time! I have to run. I doubt I can risk helping you again, Percy, but remember what I said! Get some sleep! And when you return, I expect a good haiku about your journey!”
    I wanted to protest that I wasn’t tired and I’d never made up a haiku in my life, but Apollo snapped his fingers, and the next thing I knew I was closing my eyes.
    In my dream, I was somebody else. I was wearing an old-fashioned Greek tunic, which was a little too breezy downstairs, and laced leather sandals. The Nemean Lion’s skin was wrapped around my back like a cape, and I was running somewhere, being pulled along by a girl who was tightly gripping my hand.
    “Hurry!” she said. It was too dark to see her face clearly, but I could hear the fear in her voice. “He will find us!”
    It was nighttime. A million stars blazed above. We were running through tall grass, and the scent of a thousand different flowers made the air intoxicating. It was a beautiful garden, and yet the girl was leading me through it, as if we were about to die.
    “I’m not afraid,” I tried to tell her.
    “You should be!” she said, pulling me along. She had long dark hair braided down her back. Her silk robes glowed faintly in the starlight.
    We raced up the side of the hill. She pulled me behind a thorn bush and we collapsed, both breathing heavily. I didn’t know why the girl was scared. The garden seemed so peaceful. And I felt strong. Stronger than I’d ever felt before.
    “There is no need to run,” I told her. My voice sounded deeper, much more confident. “I have bested a thousand monsters with my bare hands.”
    “Not this one,” the girl said. “Ladon is too strong. You must go around, up the mountain to my father. It is the only way.”
    The hurt in her voice surprised me. She was really concerned, almost like she cared about me.
    “I don’t trust your father,” I said.
    “You should not,” the girl agreed. “You will have to trick him. But you cannot take the prize directly. You will die!”
    I chuckled. “Then why don’t you help me, pretty one?”
    “I . . . I am afraid. Ladon will stop me. My sisters, if they found out . . . they would disown me.”
    “Then there’s nothing for it.” I stood up, rubbing my hands together.
    “Wait!” the girl said.
    She seemed to be agonizing over a decision. Then, her fingers trembling, she reached up and plucked a long white brooch from her hair. “If you must fight, take this. My mother, Pleione, gave it to me. She was a daughter of the ocean, and the ocean’s power is within it. My immortal power.”
    The girl breathed on the pin and it glowed faintly. It gleamed in the starlight like polished abalone.
    “Take it,” she told me. “And make of it a weapon.”
    I laughed. “A hairpin? How will this slay Ladon, pretty one?”
    “It may not,” she admitted. “But it is all I can offer, if you insist on being stubborn.”
    The girl’s voice softened my heart. I reached down and took the hairpin, and as I did, it grew longer and heavier in my hand, until I held a familiar bronze sword.
    “Well balanced,” I said. “Though I usually prefer to use my bare hands. What shall I name this blade?”
    “Anaklusmos,” the girl said sadly. “The current that takes one by surprise. And before you know it, you have been swept out to sea.”
    Before I could thank her, there was a trampling sound in the grass, a hiss like air escaping a