ᴀɪᴜᴛᴀɴᴛᴇ ¥ ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ¥ ᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ

ᴡᴇ ʙᴏᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇᴅᴀ

At first, nothing happened. Waves crashed against the shore like normal. The harpies sounded like they were right behind the sand dunes. Then, about a hundred yards out to sea, three white lines appeared on the surface. They moved fast toward the shore, like claws ripping through the ocean.

As they neared the beach, the surf burst apart and the heads of three white stallions reared out of the waves.

Tyson caught his breath. "Fish ponies!"

He was right. As the creatures pulled themselves onto the sand, I saw that they were only horses in the front; their back halves were silvery fish bodies, with glistening scales and rainbow tail fins.

"Hippocampi!" Annabeth said. "They're beautiful."

The nearest one whinnied in appreciation and nuzzled Annabeth.

"We'll admire them later," I said. "Come on!"

"There!" a voice screeched behind us. "Bad children out of cabins! Snack time for lucky harpies!"

Five of them were fluttering over the top of the dunes—plump little hags with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies. They reminded me of miniature cafeteria ladies who'd been crossbred with dodo birds. They weren't very fast, thank the gods, but they were vicious if they caught you.

"Tyson!" I said. "Grab a duffel bag!"

He was still staring at the hippocampi with his mouth hanging open, "Tyson!"

"Uh?"

"Come on!"

With Annabeth's help I got him moving. We gathered the bags and mounted our steeds.

Poseidon must've known Tyson was one of the passengers, because one hippocampus was much larger than the other two—just right for carrying a Cyclops. But there was only three of the hippocampi.

"Aster! Come on!" I urged Aster.

"Go! Don't worry about me," Aster urgently exclaimed, his voice tinged with a sense of sacrifice and determination. With a swift, purposeful motion, he threw the black duffel bag toward me.

As the bag arced through the air, I instinctively reached out to catch it.

From Aster's broad shoulders, his beautiful, gigantic black wings unfurled with an awe-inspiring majesty. The wings spanned the air, their feathers glistening like obsidian in the dim light. They seemed to embody both strength and grace, and they were a symbol of his unique abilities.

With a determined and resolute expression, Aster leapt into the water, disappearing beneath the waves with a fluidity that matched the elegance of his wings.

"Giddy up!" I said. My hippocampus turned and plunged into the waves. Annabeth's and Tyson's followed right behind.

The harpies cursed at us, wailing for their snacks to come back, but the hippocampi raced over the water at the speed of Jet Skis. The harpies fell behind, and soon the shore of Camp Half-Blood was nothing but a dark smudge. I wondered if I'd ever see the place again. But right then I had other problems.

The cruise ship was now looming in front of us—our ride toward Florida and the Sea of Monsters.

Riding the hippocampus was even easier than riding a pegasus. We zipped along with the wind in our faces, speeding through the waves so smooth and steady I hardly needed to hold on at all.

As we got closer to the cruise ship, I realized just how huge it was. I felt as though I were looking up at a building in Manhattan. The white hull was at least ten stories tall, topped with another dozen levels of decks with brightly lit balconies and portholes. The ship's name was painted just above the bow line in black letters, lit with a spotlight. It took me a few seconds to decipher it: