The Titan's Curse

it down, I noticed my arms were sore.
    “Now listen, Percy,” Aphrodite said. “The Hunters are your enemies. Forget them and Artemis and the monster. That’s not important. You just concentrate on finding and saving Annabeth.”
    “Do you know where she is?”
    Aphrodite waved her hand irritably. “No, no. I leave the details to you. But it’s been ages since we’ve had a good tragic love story.”
    “Whoa, first of all, I never said anything about love. And second, what’s up with tragic ?”
    “Love conquers all,” Aphrodite promised. “Look at Helen and Paris. Did they let anything come between them?”
    “Didn’t they start the Trojan War and get thousands of people killed?”
    “Pfft. That’s not the point. Follow your heart.”
    “But . . . I don’t know where it’s going. My heart, I mean.”
    She smiled sympathetically. She really was beautiful. And not just because she had a pretty face or anything. She believed in love so much, it was impossible not to feel giddy when she talked about it.
    “Not knowing is half the fun,” Aphrodite said. “Exquisitely painful, isn’t it? Not being sure who you love and who loves you? Oh, you kids! It’s so cute I’m going to cry.”
    “No, no,” I said. “Don’t do that.”
    “And don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to let this be easy and boring for you. No, I have some wonderful surprises in store. Anguish. Indecision. Oh, you just wait.”
    “That’s really okay,” I told her. “Don’t go to any trouble.”
    “You’re so cute. I wish all my daughters could break the heart of a boy as nice as you.” Aphrodite’s eyes were tearing up. “Now, you’d better go. And do be careful in my husband’s territory, Percy. Don’t take anything. He is awfully fussy about his trinkets and trash.”
    “What?” I asked. “You mean Hephaestus?”
    But the car door opened and Ares grabbed my shoulder, pulling me out of the car and back into the desert night.
    My audience with the goddess of love was over.
    “You’re lucky, punk.” Ares pushed me away from the limo. “Be grateful.”
    “For what?”
    “That we’re being so nice. If it was up to me—”
    “So why haven’t you killed me?” I shot back. It was a stupid thing to say to the god of war, but being around him always made me feel angry and reckless.
    Ares nodded, like I’d finally said something intelligent.
    “I’d love to kill you, seriously,” he said. “But see, I got a situation. Word on Olympus is that you might start the biggest war in history. I can’t risk messing that up. Besides, Aphrodite thinks you’re some kinda soap-opera star or something. I kill you, that makes me look bad with her. But don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten my promise. Some day soon, kid— real soon—you’re going to raise your sword to fight, and you’re going to remember the wrath of Ares.”
    I balled my fists. “Why wait? I beat you once. How’s that ankle healing up?”
    He grinned crookedly. “Not bad, punk. But you got nothing on the master of taunts. I’ll start the fight when I’m good and ready. Until then . . . Get lost.”
    He snapped his fingers and the world did a three-sixty, spinning in a cloud of red dust. I fell to the ground.
    When I stood up again, the limousine was gone. The road, the taco restaurant, the whole town of Gila Claw was gone. My friends and I were standing in the middle of the junkyard, mountains of scrap metal stretched out in every direction.
    “What did she want with you?” Bianca asked, once I’d told them about Aphrodite.
    “Oh, uh, not sure,” I lied. “She said to be careful in her husband’s junkyard. She said not to pick anything up.”
    Zoë narrowed her eyes. “The goddess of love would not make a special trip to tell thee that. Be careful, Percy. Aphrodite has led many heroes astray.”
    “For once I agree with Zoë,” Thalia said. “You can’t trust Aphrodite.”
    Grover was looking at me funny. Being empathic and all, he could usually read my emotions, and I got the feeling he knew exactly what Aphrodite had talked to me about.
    “So,” I said, anxious to change the subject, “how do we get out of here?”
    “That way,” Zoë said. “That is west.”
    “How can you tell?”
    In the light of the full moon, I was surprised how well I could see her roll her eyes at me. “Ursa Major is in the north,” she said, “which means that must be west.”
    She pointed west, then at the northern constellation,