The Titan's Curse

compliment.
    The goddess Athena cleared her throat and sat forward. “I am proud of my daughter as well. But there is a security risk here with the other two.”
    “Mother!” Annabeth said. “How can you—”
    Athena cut her off with a calm but firm look. “It is unfortunate that my father, Zeus, and my uncle, Poseidon, chose to break their oath not to have more children. Only Hades kept his word, a fact that I find ironic. As we know from the Great Prophecy, children of the three elder gods . . . such as Thalia and Percy . . . are dangerous. As thickheaded as he is, Ares has a point.”
    “Right!” Ares said. “Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin’—”
    He started to get up, but a grape vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.
    “Oh, please, Ares,” Dionysus sighed. “Save the fighting for later.”
    Ares cursed and ripped away the vine. “You’re one to talk, you old drunk. You seriously want to protect these brats?”
    Dionysus gazed down at us wearily. “I have no love for them. Athena, do you truly think it safest to destroy them?”
    “I do not pass judgment,” Athena said. “I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide.”
    “I will not have them punished,” Artemis said. “I will have them rewarded. If we destroy heroes who do us a great favor, then we are no better than the Titans. If this is Olympian justice, I will have none of it.”
    “Calm down, sis,” Apollo said. “Jeez, you need to lighten up.”
    “Don’t call me sis ! I will reward them.”
    “Well,” Zeus grumbled. “Perhaps. But the monster at least must be destroyed. We have agreement on that?”
    A lot of nodding heads.
    It took me a second to realize what they were saying. Then my heart turned to lead. “Bessie? You want to destroy Bessie?”
    “Mooooooo!” Bessie protested.
    My father frowned. “You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?”
    “Dad,” I said, “he’s just a sea creature. A really nice sea creature. You can’t destroy him.”
    Poseidon shifted uncomfortably. “Percy, the monster’s power is considerable. If the Titans were to steal it, or—”
    “You can’t,” I insisted. I looked at Zeus. I probably should have been afraid of him, but I stared him right in the eye. “Controlling the prophecies never works. Isn’t that true? Besides, Bess— the Ophiotaurus is innocent. Killing something like that is wrong. It’s just as wrong as . . . as Kronos eating his children, just because of something they might do. It’s wrong!”
    Zeus seemed to consider this. His eyes drifted to his daughter Thalia. “And what of the risk? Kronos knows full well, if one of you were to sacrifice the beast’s entrails, you would have the power to destroy us. Do you think we can let that possibility remain? You, my daughter, will turn sixteen on the morrow, just as the prophecy says.”
    “You have to trust them,” Annabeth spoke up. “Sir, you have to trust them.”
    Zeus scowled. “Trust a hero?”
    “Annabeth is right,” Artemis said. “Which is why I must first make a reward. My faithful companion, Zoë Nightshade, has passed into the stars. I must have a new lieutenant. And I intend to choose one. But first, Father Zeus, I must speak to you privately.”
    Zeus beckoned Artemis forward. He leaned down and listened as she spoke in his ear.
    A feeling of panic seized me. “Annabeth,” I said under my breath. “Don’t.”
    She frowned at me. “What?”
    “Look, I need to tell you something,” I continued. The words came stumbling out of me. “I couldn’t stand it if . . . I don’t want you to—”
    “Percy?” she said. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
    And that’s how I felt. I wanted to say more, but my tongue betrayed me. It wouldn’t move because of the fear in my stomach. And then Artemis turned.
    “I shall have a new lieutenant,” she announced. “If she will accept it.”
    “No,” I murmured.
    “Thalia,” Artemis said. “Daughter of Zeus. Will you join the Hunt?”
    Stunned silence filled the room. I stared at Thalia, unable to believe what I was hearing. Annabeth smiled. She squeezed Thalia’s hand and let it go, as if she’d been expecting this all along.
    “I will,” Thalia said firmly.
    Zeus rose, his eyes full of concern. “My daughter, consider well—”
    “Father,” she said. “I will not turn sixteen tomorrow. I will never turn sixteen. I won’t let this prophecy be mine. I stand with my