The Titan's Curse

out of the line of fire!”
    But Annabeth leaped onto the monster’s back and drove her knife into his mane. The manticore howled, turning in circles with his tail flailing as Annabeth hung on for dear life.
    “Fire!” Zoë ordered.
    “No!” I screamed.
    But the Hunters let their arrows fly. The first caught the manticore in the neck. Another hit his chest. The manticore staggered backward, wailing, “This is not the end, Huntress! You shall pay!”
    And before anyone could react, the monster, with Annabeth still on his back, leaped over the cliff and tumbled into the darkness.
    “Annabeth!” I yelled.
    I started to run after her, but our enemies weren’t done with us. There was a snap-snap-snap from the helicopter—the sound of gunfire.
    Most of the Hunters scattered as tiny holes appeared in the snow at their feet, but the girl with auburn hair just looked up calmly at the helicopter.
    “Mortals,” she announced, “are not allowed to witness my hunt.”
    She thrust out her hand, and the helicopter exploded into dust—no, not dust. The black metal dissolved into a flock of birds—ravens, which scattered into the night.
    The Hunters advanced on us.
    The one called Zoë stopped short when she saw Thalia. “You,” she said with distaste.
    “Zoë Nightshade.” Thalia’s voice trembled with anger. “Perfect timing, as usual.”
    Zoë scanned the rest of us. “Four half-bloods and a satyr, my lady.”
    “Yes,” the younger girl said. “Some of Chiron’s campers, I see.”
    “Annabeth!” I yelled. “You have to let us save her!”
    The auburn-haired girl turned toward me. “I’m sorry, Percy Jackson, but your friend is beyond help.”
    I tried to struggle to my feet, but a couple of the girls held me down.
    “You are in no condition to be hurling yourself off cliffs,” the auburn-haired girl said.
    “Let me go!” I demanded. “Who do you think you are?”
    Zoë stepped forward as if to smack me.
    “No,” the other girl ordered. “I sense no disrespect, Zoë. He is simply distraught. He does not understand.”
    The young girl looked at me, her eyes colder and brighter than the winter moon. “I am Artemis,” she said. “Goddess of the Hunt.”

THREE

BIANCA DI ANGELO MAKES A CHOICE
    After seeing Dr. Thorn turn into a monster and plummet off the edge of a cliff with Annabeth, you’d think nothing else could shock me. But when this twelve-year-old girl told me she was the goddess Artemis, I said something real intelligent like, “Um . . . okay.”
    That was nothing compared to Grover. He gasped, then knelt hastily in the snow and started yammering, “Thank you, Lady Artemis! You’re so . . . you’re so . . . Wow!”
    “Get up, goat boy!” Thalia snapped. “We have other things to worry about. Annabeth is gone!”
    “Whoa,” Bianca di Angelo said. “Hold up. Time out.”
    Everybody looked at her. She pointed her finger at all of us in turn, like she was trying to connect the dots. “Who . . . who are you people?”
    Artemis’s expression softened. “It might be a better question, my dear girl, to ask who are you ? Who are your parents?”
    Bianca glanced nervously at her brother, who was still staring in awe at Artemis.
    “Our parents are dead,” Bianca said. “We’re orphans. There’s a bank trust that pays for our school, but . . .”
    She faltered. I guess she could tell from our faces that we didn’t believe her.
    “What?” she demanded. “I’m telling the truth.”
    “You are a half-blood,” Zoë Nightshade said. Her accent was hard to place. It sounded old-fashioned, like she was reading from a really old book. “One of thy parents was mortal. The other was an Olympian.”
    “An Olympian . . . athlete?”
    “No,” Zoë said. “One of the gods.”
    “Cool!” said Nico.
    “No!” Bianca’s voice quavered. “This is not cool!”
    Nico danced around like he needed to use the restroom. “Does Zeus really have lightning bolts that do six hundred damage? Does he get extra movement points for—”
    “Nico, shut up!” Bianca put her hands to her face. “This is not your stupid Mythomagic game, okay? There are no gods!”
    As anxious as I felt about Annabeth—all I wanted to do was search for her—I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the di Angelos. I remembered what it was like for me when I first learned I was a demigod.
    Thalia must’ve been feeling something similar, because the anger in her eyes subsided a little bit. “Bianca, I know it’s