A web of fates | Percy Jackson and the Olympians

XI| Sirens

Percy had finally found something he was really good at.

The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to his every command. He knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer.

They plowed through the waves at what Percy figured was about ten knots. He even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty darn fast.

They sailed through the night.

Annabeth tried to help them keep lookout, but sailing didn't agree with her. After a few hours rocking back and forth, her face turned the color of guacamole and she went below to lie in a hammock.

Oliver was already fast asleep and Daphne was about to join them but she didn't want to leave Percy alone.

Daphne watched the horizon. More than once she spotted monsters. A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spewed into the moonlight.

A row of green spines slithered across the waves-something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian. She didn't really want to know.

Once she saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. Percy tried to wave at them, but they disappeared into the depths, leaving the duo unsure whether they'd seen him or not.

Sometime after midnight, Oliver and Annabeth came up on deck. They were just passing a smoking volcano island. The sea bubbled and steamed around the shore.

"One of the forges of Hephaestus," Annabeth said. "Where he makes his metal monsters."

"Like the bronze bulls?"

Oliver nodded. "Go around. Far around."

Percy didn't need to be told twice. They steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind them.

Percy looked at Annabeth. "The reason you hate Cyclopes so much ... the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?"

It was hard to see her expression in the dark.
"I guess you deserve to know," she said finally. "The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?"

Percy nodded.

"Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops's lair in Brooklyn."

"They've got Cyclopes in Brooklyn?" Percy asked.

"You wouldn't believe how many, but that's not the point. This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone, Percy. Just the way Tyson did aboard the Princess Andromeda. He lured us, one at a time. Thalia thought she was running to save Luke. Luke thought he heard me scream for help. And me ... I was alone in the dark. I was seven years old. I couldn't even find the exit."

She brushed the hair out of her face. "I remember finding the main room. There were bones all over the floor. And there were Thalia and Luke and Grover, tied up and gagged, hanging from the ceiling like smoked hams. The Cyclops was starting a fire in the middle of the floor. I drew my knife, but he heard me. He turned and smiled. He spoke, and somehow he knew my dad's voice. I guess he just plucked it out of my mind. He said, 'Now, Annabeth, don't you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. You can stay forever.'"

Daphne shivered. The way she told it-even now, six years later-freaked her out worse than any ghost story she had ever heard.

"What did you do?" Oliver asked gently as to not offend her.

"I stabbed him in the foot."

"Badass." Daphne whistled.

Percy stared at her. "Are you kidding? You were seven years old and you stabbed a grown Cyclops in the foot?"