The Titan's Curse

with me. She had run off toward the black rocks where Zoë had fallen.
    “We’ll bring Luke back,” Annabeth pleaded. “To Olympus. He . . . he’ll be useful.”
    “Is that what you want, Thalia?” Luke sneered. “To go back to Olympus in triumph? To please your dad?”
    Thalia hesitated, and Luke made a desperate grab for her spear.
    “No!” Annabeth shouted. But it was too late. Without thinking, Thalia kicked Luke away. He lost his balance, terror on his face, and then he fell.
    “Luke!” Annabeth screamed.
    We rushed to the cliff ’s edge. Below us, the army from the Princess Andromeda had stopped in amazement. They were staring at Luke’s broken form on the rocks. Despite how much I hated him, I couldn’t stand to see it. I wanted to believe he was still alive, but that was impossible. The fall was fifty feet at least, and he wasn’t moving.
    One of the giants looked up and growled, “Kill them!”
    Thalia was stiff with grief, tears streaming down her cheeks. I pulled her back as a wave of javelins sailed over our heads. We ran for the rocks, ignoring the curses and threats of Atlas as we passed.
    “Artemis!” I yelled.
    The goddess looked up, her face almost as grief-stricken as Thalia’s. Zoë lay in the goddess’s arms. She was breathing. Her eyes were open. But still . . .
    “The wound is poisoned,” Artemis said.
    “Atlas poisoned her?” I asked.
    “No,” the goddess said. “Not Atlas.”
    She showed us the wound in Zoë’s side. I’d almost forgotten her scrape with Ladon the dragon. The bite was much worse than Zoë had let on. I could barely look at the wound. She had charged into battle against her father with a horrible cut already sapping her strength.
    “The stars,” Zoë murmured. “I cannot see them.”
    “Nectar and ambrosia,” I said. “Come on! We have to get her some.”
    No one moved. Grief hung in air. The army of Kronos was just below the rise. Even Artemis was too shocked to stir. We might’ve met our doom right there, but then I heard a strange buzzing noise.
    Just as the army of monsters came over the hill, a Sopwith Camel swooped down out of the sky.
    “Get away from my daughter!” Dr. Chase called down, and his machine guns burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering.
    “Dad?” yelled Annabeth in disbelief.
    “Run!” he called back, his voice growing fainter as the biplane swooped by.
    This shook Artemis out of her grief. She stared up at the antique plane, which was now banking around for another strafe.
    “A brave man,” Artemis said with grudging approval. “Come. We must get Zoë away from here.”
    She raised her hunting horn to her lips, and its clear sound echoed down the valleys of Marin. Zoë’s eyes were fluttering.
    “Hang in there!” I told her. “It’ll be all right!”
    The Sopwith Camel swooped down again. A few giants threw javelins, and one flew straight between the wings of the plane, but the machine guns blazed. I realized with amazement that somehow Dr. Chase must’ve gotten hold of celestial bronze to fashion his bullets. The first row of snake women wailed as the machine gun’s volley blew them into sulfurous yellow powder.
    “That’s . . . my dad!” Annabeth said in amazement.
    We didn’t have time to admire his flying. The giants and snake women were already recovering from their surprise. Dr. Chase would be in trouble soon.
    Just then, the moonlight brightened, and a silver chariot appeared from the sky, drawn by the most beautiful deer I had ever seen. It landed right next to us.
    “Get in,” Artemis said.
    Annabeth helped me get Thalia on board. Then I helped Artemis with Zoë. We wrapped Zoë in a blanket as Artemis pulled the reins and the chariot sped away from the mountain, straight into the air.
    “Like Santa Claus’s sleigh,” I murmured, still dazed with pain.
    Artemis took time to look back at me. “Indeed, young half-blood. And where do you think that legend came from?”
    Seeing us safely away, Dr. Chase turned his biplane and followed us like an honor guard. It must have been one of the strangest sights ever, even for the Bay Area: a silver flying chariot pulled by deer, escorted by a Sopwith Camel.
    Behind us, the army of Kronos roared in anger as they gathered on the summit of Mount Tamalpais, but the loudest sound was the voice of Atlas, bellowing curses against the gods as he struggled under the weight of the