The Titan's Curse

“Wow,” Thalia muttered. “Apollo is hot.”

“He's the sun god,” I said.

“That's not what I meant.”

I couldn’t believe I’d come all this way and suffered so much only to lose Bianca to some eternal girls’ club.

It was bad enough I had to depend on my mom to drive me to my battles.

“Wow,” Thalia muttered. “Apollo is hot.”
“He’s the sun god,” I said.
“That’s not what I meant.”

“Bessie? You want to destroy Bessie?”

“Mooooooo!” Bessie protested.

My father frowned. “You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?”

“I…well, finally Chiron came out in his pajamas and his horse tail in curlers and—”

“He wears curlers in his tail?”

Grover blushed. “I was sort of camped outside the Artemis cabin.”

“What for?”

“Just to be, you know, near them.”

“You’re a stalker with hooves.”

“Dance, you guys!” Thalia ordered. “You look stupid just standing there.”

I looked nervously at Annabeth, then at the groups of girls who were roaming the gym.

“Well?” Annabeth said.

“Um, who should I ask?”

She punched me in the gut. “Me, Seaweed Brain.”

She touched the new streak of gray in my hair that matched hers exactly— our painful souvenir from holding Atlas’s burden. There was a lot I’d wanted to say to Annabeth, but Athena had taken the confidence out of me. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter.

“Your father takes a great risk, you know.”

I found myself face-to-face with a gray-eyed woman who looked so much like Annabeth I almost called her that.

“Athena.” I tried not to sound resentful, after the way she’d written me off in the council, but I guess I didn’t hide it very well.

She smiled dryly. “Do not judge me too harshly, half-blood. Wise counsel is not always popular, but I spoke the truth. You are dangerous.”

“You never take risks?”

She nodded. “I concede the point. You may perhaps be useful. And yet . . . your fatal flaw may destroy us as well as yourself.”

My heart crept into my throat. A year ago, Annabeth and I had had a talk about fatal flaws. Every hero had one. Hers, she said, was pride. She believed she could do anything . . . like holding up the world, for instance. Or saving Luke. But I didn’t really know what mine was.

Athena looked almost sorry for me. “Kronos knows your flaw, even if you do not. He knows how to study his enemies. Think, Percy. How has he manipulated you? First, your mother was taken from you. Then your best friend, Grover. Now my daughter, Annabeth.” She paused, disapproving. “In each case, your loved ones have been used to lure you into Kronos’s traps. Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. You do not know when it is time to cut your losses. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world. In a hero of the prophecy, that is very, very dangerous.”

I balled my fists. “That’s not a flaw. Just because I want to help my friends—”

“The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation,” she said. “Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom . . . that is very hard indeed.”

I wanted to argue, but I found I couldn’t. Athena was pretty darn smart.

“I hope the Council’s decisions prove wise,” Athena said. “But I will be watching, Percy Jackson. I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter. I do not think it wise for either of you. And should you begin to waver in your loyalties . . .”

She fixed me with her cold gray stare, and I realized what a terrible enemy Athena would make, ten times worse than Ares or Dionysus or maybe even my father. Athena would never give up. She would never do something rash or stupid just because she hated you, and if she made a plan to destroy you, it would not fail.