SEVEN

I ACCEPT GIFTS
FROM A STRANGER

 

The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Annabeth, Tyson, and I hadn't disturbed them with our bad chariot driving.

This was so completely unfair, I told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut, which didn't help his mood. He sentenced us to kitchen patrol—scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so Annabeth and I had to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.

Tyson didn't mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and started scrubbing, but Annabeth and I had to suffer through hours of hot, dangerous work, especially since there were tons of extra plates. Tantalus had ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory—a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.

The only good thing about our punishment was that it gave Annabeth and me a common enemy and lots of time to talk. After listening to my dream about Grover again, she looked like she might be starting to believe me.

"If he's really found it," she murmured, "and if we could retrieve it—"

"Hold on," I said. "You act like this ... whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save the camp. What is it?"

"I'll give you a hint. What do you get when you skin a ram?"

"Messy?"

She sighed. "A fleece. The coat of a ram is called a fleece. And if that ram happens to have golden wool—"

"The Golden Fleece. Are you serious?"

Annabeth scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. "Percy, remember the Gray Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mentioned Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told him how to find the Golden Fleece. You do know the story of Jason and the Argonauts?"

"Yeah," I said. "That old movie with the clay skeletons."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh my gods, Percy! You are so hopeless."

"What?" I demanded.

"Just listen. The real story of the Fleece: there were these two children of Zeus, Cadmus and Europa, okay? They were about to get offered up as human sacrifices, when they prayed to Zeus to save them. So Zeus sent this magical flying ram with golden wool, which picked them up in Greece and carried them all the way to Colchis in Asia Minor. Well, actually it carried Cadmus. Europa fell off and died along the way, but that's not important."

"It was probably important to her."

"The point is, when Cadmus got to Colchis, he sacrificed the golden ram to the gods and hung the Fleece in a tree in the middle of the kingdom. The Fleece brought prosperity to the land. Animals stopped getting sick. Plants grew better. Farmers had bumper crops. Plagues never visited. That's why Jason wanted the Fleece. It can revitalize any land where it's placed. It cures sickness, strengthens nature, cleans up pollution—"

"It could cure Thalia's tree."

Annabeth nodded. "And it would totally strengthen the borders of Camp Half-Blood. But Percy, the Fleece has been missing for centuries. Tons of heroes have searched for it with no luck."

"But Grover found it," I said. "He went looking for Pan and he found the Fleece instead because they both radiate nature magic. It makes sense, Annabeth. We can rescue him and save the camp at the same time. It's perfect!"

Annabeth hesitated. "A little too perfect, don't you think? What if it's a trap?"

I remembered last summer, how Kronos had manipulated our quest. He'd almost fooled us into helping him start a war that would've destroyed Western Civilization.

"What choice do we have?" I asked. "Are you going to help me rescue Grover or not?"

She glanced at Tyson, who'd lost interest in our conversation and was happily making toy boats out of cups and spoons in the lava.

"Percy," she said under her breath, "we'll have to fight a Cyclops. Polyphemus, the worst of the Cyclopes. And there's only one place his island could be. The Sea of Monsters."

"Where's that?"

She stared at me like she thought I was playing dumb. "The Sea of Monsters. The same sea Odysseus sailed through, and Jason, and Aeneas, and all the others."

"You mean the Mediterranean?"

"No. Well, yes ... but no."

"Another straight answer. Thanks."

"Look, Percy, the Sea of Monsters is the sea all heroes sail through on their adventures. It used to be in the Mediterranean, yes. But like everything else, it shifts locations as the West's center of power shifts."

"Like Mount Olympus being above the Empire State Building," I said. "And Hades being under Los Angeles."

"Right."

"But a whole sea full of monsters—how could you hide something like that? Wouldn't the mortals notice weird things happening ... like, ships getting eaten and stuff?"

"Of course they notice. They don't understand, but they know something is strange about that part of the ocean. The Sea of Monsters is off the east coast of the U.S. now, just northeast of Florida. The mortals even have a name for it."

"The Bermuda Triangle?"

"Exactly."

I let that sink in. I guess it wasn't stranger than anything else I'd learned since coming to Camp Half-Blood. "Okay ... so at least we know where to look."

"It's still a huge area, Percy. Searching for one tiny island in monster-infested waters—"

"Hey, I'm the son of the sea god. This is my home turf. How hard can it be?"

Annabeth knit her eyebrows. "We'll have to talk to Tantalus, get approval for a quest. He'll say no."

"Not if we tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody. The whole camp will hear. They'll pressure him. He won't be able to refuse."

"Maybe." A little bit of hope crept into Annabeth's voice. "We'd better get these dishes done. Hand me the lava spray gun, will you?"

 

That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. We all sat around a semicircle of stone steps, singing halfheartedly and watching the bonfire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.

We did all the standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land." The bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, I'd seen it twenty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallows burst into the flames. Tonight, the fire was only five feet high, barely warm, and the flames were the color of lint.

Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Then he gave Tantalus a distasteful look and headed back toward the Big House.

When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!"

He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames.

Tantalus turned back toward us, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."

"Sir," I said.

Tantalus's eye twitched. "Our kitchen boy has something to say?"

Some of the Ares campers snickered, but I wasn't going to let anybody embarrass me into silence. I stood and looked at Annabeth. Thank the gods, she stood up with me.

I said, "We have an idea to save the camp."

Dead silence, but I could tell I'd gotten everybody's interest, because the campfire flared bright yellow.

"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—"

"The Golden Fleece," I said. "We know where it is."

The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop me, I blurted out my dream about Grover and Polyphemus's island. Annabeth stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincing coming from her.

"The Fleece can save the camp," she concluded. "I'm certain of it."

"Nonsense," said Tantalus. "We don't need saving."

Everybody stared at him until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.

"Besides," he added quickly, "the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."

"Yes, I would," I said.

Annabeth leaned toward me and whispered, "You would?"

I nodded, because Annabeth had jogged something in my memory when she reminded me about our taxi drive with the Gray Sisters. At the time, the information they'd given me made no sense. But now ...

"30, 31, 75, 12," I said.

"Ooo-kay," Tantalus said. "Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers."

"They're sailing coordinates," I said. "Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies."

Even Annabeth looked impressed. "30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. He's right! The Gray Sisters gave us those coordinates. That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!"

"Wait just a minute," Tantalus said.

But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"

The flames rose higher.

"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted.