Rick Riordan: The Sea of Monsters

I looked over at the campfire, where three party ponies were teaching Tyson to operate a paintball gun. I hoped they knew what they were getting into.

"So what now?" I asked Chiron. "We just let Luke sail away? He's got Kronos aboard that ship. Or parts of him, anyway."

Chiron knelt, carefully folding his front legs underneath him. He opened the medicine pouch on his belt and started to treat my wounds. "I'm afraid, Percy, that today has been something of a draw. We didn't have the strength of numbers to take that ship. Luke was not organized enough to pursue us. Nobody won."

"But we got the Fleece!" Annabeth said. "Clarisse is on her way back to camp with it right now."

Chiron nodded, though he still looked uneasy. "You are all true heroes. And as soon as we get Percy fixed up, you must return to Half-Blood Hill. The centaurs shall carry you."

"You're coming, too?" I asked.

"Oh yes, Percy. I'll be relieved to get home. My brethren here simply do not appreciate Dean Martin's music. Besides, I must have some words with Mr. D. There's the rest of the summer to plan. So much training to do. And I want to see… I'm curious about the Fleece."

I didn't know exactly what he meant, but it made me worried about what Luke had said: I was going to let you take the Fleece… once I was done with it.

Had he just been lying? I'd learned with Kronos there was usually a plan within a plan. The titan lord wasn't called the Crooked One for nothing. He had ways of getting people to do what he wanted without them ever realizing his true intentions.

Over by the campfire, Tyson let loose with his paintball gun. A blue projectile splattered against one of the centaurs, hurling him backward into the lake. The centaur came up grinning, covered in swamp muck and blue paint, and gave Tyson two thumbs up.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "perhaps you and Grover would go supervise Tyson and my cousins before they, ah, teach each other too many bad habits?"

Annabeth met his eyes. Some kind of understanding passed between them.

"Sure, Chiron," Annabeth said. "Come on, goat boy."

"But I don't like paintball."

"Yes, you do." She hoisted Grover to his hooves and led him off toward the campfire.

Chiron finished bandaging my leg. "Percy, I had a talk with Annabeth on the way here. A talk about the prophecy."

Uh-oh, I thought.

"It wasn't her fault," I said. "I made her tell me."

His eyes flickered with irritation. I was sure he was going to chew me out, but then his look turned to weariness. "I suppose I could not expect to keep it secret forever."

"So am I the one in the prophecy?"

Chiron tucked his bandages back into his pouch. "I wish I knew, Percy. You're not yet sixteen. For now we must simply train you as best we can, and leave the future to the Fates."

The Fates. I hadn't thought about those old ladies in a long time, but as soon as Chiron mentioned them, something clicked.

"That's what it meant," I said.

Chiron frowned. "That's what what meant?"

"Last summer. The omen from the Fates, when I saw them snip somebody's life string. I thought it meant I was going to die right away, but it's worse than that. It's got something to do with your prophecy. The death they foretold—it's going to happen when I'm sixteen."

Chiron's tail whisked nervously in the grass. "My boy, you can't be sure of that. We don't even know if the prophecy is about you."

"But there isn't any other half-blood child of the Big Three!"

"That we know of."

"And Kronos is rising. He's going to destroy Mount Olympus!"

"He will try," Chiron agreed. "And Western Civilization along with it, if we don't stop him. But we will stop him. You will not be alone in that fight."

I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but I remembered what Annabeth had told me. It would come down to one hero. One decision that would save or destroy the West. And I felt sure the Fates had been giving me some kind of warning about that. Something terrible was going to happen, either to me or to somebody I was close to.

"I'm just a kid, Chiron," I said miserably. "What good is one lousy hero against something like Kronos?"

Chiron managed a smile. "What good is one lousy hero'? Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain said something like that to me once, just before he single-handedly changed the course of your Civil War."

He pulled an arrow from his quiver and turned the razor-sharp tip so it glinted in the firelight. "Celestial bronze, Percy. An immortal weapon. What would happen if you shot this at a human?"

"Nothing," I said. "It would pass right through."

"That's right," he said. "Humans don't exist on the same level as the immortals. They can't even be hurt by our weapons. But you, Percy—you are part god, part human. You live in both worlds. You can be harmed by both, and you can affect both. That's what makes heroes so special. You carry the hopes of humanity into the realm of the eternal. Monsters never die. They are reborn from the chaos and barbarism that is always bubbling underneath civilization, the very stuff that makes Kronos stronger. They must be defeated again and again, kept at bay. Heroes embody that struggle. You fight the battles humanity must win, every generation, in order to stay human. Do you understand?"

"I… I don't know."

"You must try, Percy. Because whether or not you are the child of the prophecy, Kronos thinks you might be. And after today, he will finally despair of turning you to his side. That is the only reason he hasn't killed you yet, you know. As soon as he's sure he can't use you, he will destroy you."

"You talk like you know him."

Chiron pursed his lips. "I do know him."

I stared at him. I sometimes forgot just how old Chiron was. "Is that why Mr. D blamed you when the tree was poisoned? Why you said some people don't trust you?"

"Indeed."

"But, Chiron… I mean, come on! Why would they think you'd ever betray the camp for Kronos?"

Chiron's eyes were deep brown, full of thousands of years of sadness. "Percy, remember your training. Remember your study of mythology. What is my connection to the titan lord?"

I tried to think, but I'd always gotten my mythology mixed up. Even now, when it was so real, so important to my own life, I had trouble keeping all the names and facts straight. I shook my head. "You, uh, owe Kronos a favor or something? He spared your life?"

"Percy," Chiron said, his voice impossibly soft. "The titan Kronos is my father."

We arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaurs' travel powers. I rode on Chiron's back, but we didn't talk much, especially not about Kronos. I knew it had been difficult for Chiron to tell me. I didn't want to push him with more questions. I mean, I've met plenty of embarrassing parents, but Kronos, the evil titan lord who wanted to destroy Western Civilization? Not the kind of dad you invited to school for career day.

When we got to camp, the centaurs were anxious to meet Dionysus. They'd heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-Blood Hill.

The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a Draco Aionius (which as near as I could figure was Latin for "really-big-lizard-with-breath-that-blows-stuff-up"). The Big House's rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo cabin, who were the best healers, had been working overtime performing first aid. Everybody looked weary and battered as we crowded around Thalia's tree.