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stirring that I have not hunted in millennia,” Artemis murmured. “Prey so old I have nearly forgotten.”
    She stared at me intently. “We came here tonight sensing the manticore, but he was not the one I seek. Tell me again, exactly what Dr. Thorn said.”
    “Um, ‘I hate middle school dances.’”
    “No, no. After that.”
    “He said somebody called the General was going to explain things to me.” Zoë’s face paled. She turned to Artemis and started to say something, but Artemis raised her hand. “Go on, Percy,” the goddess said. “Well, then Thorn was talking about the Great Stir Pot—”
    “Stirring,” Bianca corrected. “Yeah. And he said, ‘Soon we shall have the most important monster of all—the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus.’” The goddess was so still she could’ve been a statue. “Maybe he was lying,” I said. Artemis shook her head. “No. He was not. I’ve been too slow to see the signs. I must hunt this monster.” Zoë looked like she was trying very hard not to be afraid, but she nodded. “We will leave right away, my lady.”
    “No, Zoë. I must do this alone.”
    “But, Artemis—”
    “This task is too dangerous even for the Hunters. You know where I must start my search. You cannot go there with me.”
    “As . . . as you wish, my lady.”
    “I will find this creature,” Artemis vowed. “And I shall bring it back to Olympus by winter solstice. It will be all the proof I need to convince the Council of the Gods of how much danger we are in.”
    “You know what the monster is?” I asked.
    Artemis gripped her bow. “Let us pray I am wrong.”
    “Can goddesses pray?” I asked, because I’d never really thought about that.
    A flicker of a smile played across Artemis’s lips. “Before I go, Percy Jackson, I have a small task for you.”
    “Does it involve getting turned into a jackalope?”
    “Sadly, no. I want you to escort the Hunters back to Camp Half-Blood. They can stay there in safety until I return.”
    “What?” Zoë blurted out. “But, Artemis, we hate that place. The last time we stayed there—”
    “Yes, I know,” Artemis said. “But I’m sure Dionysus will not hold a grudge just because of a little, ah, misunderstanding. It’s your right to use Cabin Eight whenever you are in need. Besides, I hear they rebuilt the cabins you burned down.”
    Zoë muttered something about foolish campers.
    “And now there is one last decision to make.” Artemis turned to Bianca. “Have you made up your mind, my girl?”
    Bianca hesitated. “I’m still thinking about it.”
    “Wait,” I said. “Thinking about what?”
    “They . . . they’ve invited me to join the Hunt.”
    “What? But you can’t! You have to come to Camp Half-Blood so Chiron can train you. It’s the only way you can learn to survive.”
    “It is not the only way for a girl,” Zoë said.
    I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. “Bianca, camp is cool! It’s got a pegasus stable and a sword-fighting arena and . . . I mean, what do you get by joining the Hunters?”
    “To begin with,” Zoë said, “immortality.”
    I stared at her, then at Artemis. “She’s kidding, right?”
    “Zoë rarely kids about anything,” Artemis said. “My Hunters follow me on my adventures. They are my maidservants, my companions, my sisters-in-arms. Once they swear loyalty to me, they are indeed immortal . . . unless they fall in battle, which is unlikely. Or break their oath.”
    “What oath?” I said.
    “To foreswear romantic love forever,” Artemis said. “To never grow up, never get married. To be a maiden eternally.”
    “Like you?”
    The goddess nodded.
    I tried to imagine what she was saying. Being immortal. Hanging out with only middle-school girls forever. I couldn’t get my mind around it. “So you just go around the country recruiting half-bloods—”
    “Not just half-bloods,” Zoë interrupted. “Lady Artemis does not discriminate by birth. All who