ᴀɴɢᴇʟᴜs ¥ ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ¥ ᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ

ɪ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍʏ ᴊᴇʀᴋ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how four kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up.

Their radios were jammed with distress calls.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even mine and Aster's. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, I'd silently prayed they wouldn't pick me and Aster out of the water and find us perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So, both of us willed ourselves to get soaked.

Sure enough, our usual waterproof magic had abandoned us. Aster snapped his finger and Grover found himself with shoes covering his hooves. Better not let the Coast Guard wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. I felt as if I'd just come back from the dead-which I had. My backpack was heavy with Zeus's master bolt. My heart was even heavier from seeing my mother.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth said. "We went all that way-"

"It was a trick," I said. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

"Hey," she warned.

"You get it, don't you?"

She dropped her eyes, her anger fading. "Yeah. I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody-"

"Percy ..." Annabeth said. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry...."

I pretended not to hear her. If I talked about my mother, I was going to start crying like a little kid.

"The prophecy was right," I said. "You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades's helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it."

"I told you it wasn't Hades." Aster said with a neutral face. Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, looking down the beach. "Gee, let me think."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminium baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," I said. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power-that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus will be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this ..."

From his pocket he took out a ski cap-the kind bank robbers wear-and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.