The Titan's Curse

camp. Protect them at sea.”
    “A prayer like that needs a sacrifice,” Thalia said. “Something big.”
    I thought for a second. Then I took off my coat.
    “Percy,” Grover said. “Are you sure? That lion skin . . . that’s really helpful. Hercules used it!”
    As soon as he said that, I realized something.
    I glanced at Zoë, who was watching me carefully. I realized I did know who Zoë’s hero had been—the one who’d ruined her life, gotten her kicked out of her family, and never even mentioned how she’d helped him: Hercules, a hero I’d admired all my life.
    “If I’m going to survive,” I said, “it won’t be because I’ve got a lion-skin cloak. I’m not Hercules.”
    I threw the coat into the bay. It turned back into a golden lion skin, flashing in the light. Then, as it began to sink beneath the waves, it seemed to dissolve into sunlight on the water.
    The sea breeze picked up.
    Grover took a deep breath. “Well, no time to lose.”
    He jumped in the water and immediately began to sink. Bessie glided next to him and let Grover take hold of his neck.
    “Be careful,” I told them.
    “We will,” Grover said. “Okay, um . . . Bessie? We’re going to Long Island. It’s east. Over that way.”
    “Moooo?” Bessie said.
    “Yes,” Grover answered. “Long Island. It’s this island. And . . . it’s long. Oh, let’s just start.”
    “Mooo!”
    Bessie lurched forward. He started to submerge and Grover said, “I can’t breathe underwater! Just thought I’d mention—” Glub!
    Under they went, and I hoped my father’s protection would extend to little things, like breathing.
    “Well, that is one problem addressed,” Zoë said. “But how can we get to my sisters’ garden?”
    “Thalia’s right,” I said. “We need a car. But there’s nobody to help us here. Unless we, uh, borrowed one.”
    I didn’t like that option. I mean, sure this was a life-or-death situation, but still, it was stealing, and it was bound to get us noticed.
    “Wait,” Thalia said. She started rifling through her backpack. “There is somebody in San Francisco who can help us. I’ve got the address here somewhere.”
    “Who?” I asked.
    Thalia pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and held it up. “Professor Chase. Annabeth’s dad.”
    After hearing Annabeth gripe about her dad for two years, I was expecting him to have devil horns and fangs. I was not expecting him to be wearing an old-fashioned aviator’s cap and goggles. He looked so weird, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that we all took a step back on the front porch.
    “Hello,” he said in a friendly voice. “Are you delivering my airplanes?”
    Thalia, Zoë, and I looked at each other warily.
    “Um, no, sir,” I said.
    “Drat,” he said. “I need three more Sopwith Camels.”
    “Right,” I said, though I had no clue what he was talking about. “We’re friends of Annabeth.”
    “Annabeth?” He straightened as if I’d just given him an electric shock. “Is she all right? Has something happened?”
    None of us answered, but our faces must’ve told him that something was very wrong. He took off his cap and goggles. He had sandy-colored hair like Annabeth and intense brown eyes. He was handsome, I guess, for an older guy, but it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his shirt was buttoned wrong, so one side of his collar stuck up higher than the other side.
    “You’d better come in,” he said.
    It didn’t look like a house they’d just moved into. There were LEGO robots on the stairs and two cats sleeping on the sofa in the living room. The coffee table was stacked with magazines, and a little kid’s winter coat was spread on the floor. The whole house smelled like fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies. There was jazz music coming from the kitchen. It seemed like a messy, happy kind of home—the kind of place that had been lived in forever.
    “Dad!” a little boy screamed. “He’s taking apart my robots!”
    “Bobby,” Dr. Chase called absently, “don’t take apart your brother’s robots.”
    “ I’m Bobby,” the little boy protested. “He’s Matthew!”
    “Matthew,” Dr. Chase called, “don’t take apart your brother’s robots!”
    “Okay, Dad!”
    Dr. Chase turned to us. “We’ll go upstairs to my study. This way.”
    “Honey?” a woman called. Annabeth’s stepmom appeared in the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She was a pretty Asian woman