The Titan's Curse

and looked at Thalia. “You saved my life.”
    “One shall perish by a parent’s hand,” she muttered. “Curse him. He would destroy me? Me? ”
    It took me a second to realize she was talking about her dad. “Oh, hey, that couldn’t have been Zeus’s lightning bolt. No way.”
    “Whose, then?” Thalia demanded.
    “I don’t know. Zoë said Kronos’s name. Maybe he—”
    Thalia shook her head, looking angry and stunned. “No. That wasn’t it.”
    “Wait,” I said. “Where’s Zoë? Zoë!”
    We both got up and ran around the blasted VW. Nothing inside. Nothing either direction down the road. I looked down the cliff. No sign of her.
    “Zoë!” I shouted.
    Then she was standing right next to me, pulling me by my arm. “Silence, fool! Do you want to wake Ladon?”
    “You mean we’re here?”
    “Very close,” she said. “Follow me.”
    Sheets of fog were drifting right across the road. Zoë stepped into one of them, and when the fog passed, she was no longer there. Thalia and I looked at each other.
    “Concentrate on Zoë,” Thalia advised. “We are following her. Go straight into the fog and keep that in mind.”
    “Wait, Thalia. About what happened back on the pier . . . I mean, with the manticore and the sacrifice—”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “You wouldn’t actually have . . . you know?”
    She hesitated. “I was just shocked. That’s all.”
    “Zeus didn’t send that lighting bolt at the car. It was Kronos. He’s trying to manipulate you, make you angry at your dad.”
    She took a deep breath. “Percy, I know you’re trying to make me feel better. Thanks. But come on. We need to go.”
    She stepped into the fog, into the Mist, and I followed.
    When the fog cleared, I was still on the side of the mountain, but the road was dirt. The grass was thicker. The sunset made a bloodred slash across the sea. The summit of the mountain seemed closer now, swirling with storm clouds and raw power. There was only one path to the top, directly in front of us. And it led through a lush meadow of shadows and flowers: the garden of twilight, just like I’d seen in my dream.
    If it hadn’t been for the enormous dragon, the garden would’ve been the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. The grass shimmered with silvery evening light, and the flowers were such brilliant colors they almost glowed in the dark. Stepping stones of polished black marble led around either side of a five-story-tall apple tree, every bough glittering with golden apples, and I don’t mean yellow golden apples like in the grocery store. I mean real golden apples. I can’t describe why they were so appealing, but as soon as I smelled their fragrance, I knew that one bite would be the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.
    “The apples of immortality,” Thalia said. “Hera’s wedding gift from Zeus.”
    I wanted to step right up and pluck one, except for the dragon coiled around the tree.
    Now, I don’t know what you think of when I say dragon . Whatever it is, it’s not scary enough. The serpent’s body was as thick as a booster rocket, glinting with coppery scales. He had more heads than I could count, as if a hundred deadly pythons had been fused together. He appeared to be asleep. The heads lay curled in a big spaghetti-like mound on the grass, all the eyes closed.
    Then the shadows in front of us began to move. There was a beautiful, eerie singing, like voices from the bottom of a well. I reached for Riptide, but Zoë stopped my hand.
    Four figures shimmered into existence, four young women who looked very much like Zoë. They all wore white Greek chitons. Their skin was like caramel. Silky black hair tumbled loose around their shoulders. It was strange, but I’d never realized how beautiful Zoë was until I saw her siblings, the Hesperides. They looked just like Zoë—gorgeous, and probably very dangerous.
    “Sisters,” Zoë said.
    “We do not see any sister,” one of the girls said coldly. “We see two half-bloods and a Hunter. All of whom shall soon die.”
    “You’ve got it wrong.” I stepped forward. “Nobody is going to die.”
    The girls studied me. They had eyes like volcanic rock, glassy and completely black.
    “Perseus Jackson,” one of them said.
    “Yes,” mused another. “I do not see why he is a threat.”
    “Who said I was a threat?”
    The first Hesperid glanced behind her, toward the top of the mountain. “They fear thee. They are unhappy that this one has