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at camp. Kronos knew your plans. You have a spy. We will hold here. We have no choice.”
    Tyson gripped my hand desperately. “I will miss you, brother!”
    Watching us, our father seemed to age another ten years. “Tyson, you have work to do as well, my son. They need you in the armory.”
    Tyson pouted some more.
    “I will go,” he sniffled. He hugged me so hard he almost cracked my ribs. “Percy, be careful! Do not let monsters kill you dead!”
    I tried to nod confidently, but it was too much for the big guy. He sobbed and swam away toward the armory, where his cousins were fixing spears and swords.
    “You should let him fight,” I told my father. “He hates being stuck in the armory. Can’t you tell?”
    Poseidon shook his head. “It is bad enough I must send you into danger. Tyson is too young. I must protect him.”
    “You should trust him,” I said. “Not try to protect him.”
    Poseidon’s eyes flared. I thought I’d gone too far, but then he looked down at the mosaic and his shoulders sagged. On the tiles, the mermaid guy in the crawfish chariot was coming closer to the palace.
    “Oceanus approaches,” my father said. “I must meet him in battle.”
    I’d never been scared for a god before, but I didn’t see how my dad could face this Titan and win.
    “I will hold,” Poseidon promised. “I will not give up my domain. Just tell me, Percy, do you still have the birthday gift I gave you last summer?”
    I nodded and pulled out my camp necklace. It had a bead for every summer I’d been at Camp Half-Blood, but since last year I’d also kept a sand dollar on the cord. My father had given it to me for my fifteenth birthday. He’d told me I would know when to “spend it,” but so far I hadn’t figured out what he meant. All I knew was that it didn’t fit the vending machines in the school cafeteria.
    “The time is coming,” he promised. “With luck, I will see you for your birthday next week, and we will have a proper celebration.”
    He smiled, and for a moment I saw the old light in his eyes.
    Then the entire sea grew dark in front of us, like an inky storm was rolling in. Thunder crackled, which should’ve been impossible underwater. A huge icy presence was approaching. I sensed a wave of fear roll through the armies below us.
    “I must assume my true godly form,” Poseidon said. “Go—and good luck, my son.”
    I wanted to encourage him, to hug him or something, but knew better than to stick around. When a god assumes his true form, the power is so great that any mortal looking on him will disintegrate.
    “Good-bye, Father,” I managed.
    Then I turned away. I willed the ocean currents to aid me. Water swirled around me, and I shot toward the surface at speeds that would’ve caused any normal human to pop like a balloon.
    When I looked back, all I could see were flashes of green and blue as my father fought the Titan, and the sea itself was torn apart by the two armies.

THREE

I GET A SNEAK PEEK AT
MY DEATH
    If you want to be popular at Camp Half-Blood, don’t come back from a mission with bad news.
    Word of my arrival spread as soon as I walked out of the ocean. Our beach is on the North Shore of Long Island, and it’s enchanted so most people can’t even see it. People don’t just appear on the beach unless they’re demigods or gods or really, really lost pizza delivery guys. (It’s happened—but that’s another story.)
    Anyway, that afternoon the lookout on duty was Connor Stoll from the Hermes cabin. When he spotted me, he got so excited he fell out of his tree. Then he blew the conch horn to signal the camp and ran to greet me.
    Connor had a crooked smile that matched his crooked sense of humor. He’s a pretty nice guy, but you should always keep one hand on your wallet when he’s around, and do not, under any circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it. He’s got curly brown hair and is a little shorter