ANNABETH CHASE FOLLOWED THE BOY NAMED PERCY AND THE GIRL WITH POINTED EARS THROUGH THE DOOR, AND INTO THE NEXT ROOM. But once she entered, she saw that it could hardly be called a room. The walls stretched up into the sky, the eternal dome serving as the only ceiling.
She wanted to stop, and look at it in awe. But the small crowd behind her pushed her forwards, forcing her to keep moving. Annabeth did so silently, not trusting anyone enough to talk to them.
The pointed-ears girl was kneeling in the center of the 'room', facing a wooden stage. But it was empty. Annabeth raised her eyebrows at the sight, but didn't say anything; she was too confused to fully evaluate.
The small group crowded behind the kneeling girl. Some were staring in awe at the sky (Annabeth overheard a girl with red-tipped dark hair release an impressive curse word), but most were staring at the girl on the ground.
For some reason, Annabeth found herself searching through the crowd until her eyes met a familiar pair of sea-green ones. Percy was staring right back at her. The connection felt strangely familiar, but she forced herself to sever it by looking away.
And blinked in surprise. The once empty stage now held a man with a beard dressed in an impressive suit. He looked at the group with a look of superiority. Annabeth disliked him immediately.
"Who are you?" asked the girl who had introduced herself as Thalia. She crossed her arms, and glared angrily at the man.
His eyes flashed like lightning. "I am Zeus, king of the gods."
No one seemed to have a response to that. Then, Percy asked, "Why are we here?"
"Because I summoned you here. You are all demigods, and are to be a part of the Demigod Games."
"That doesn't count as an answer because I don't know what you're talking about," retorted Percy.
Annabeth, much to her own surprise, smiled. She forced the facial expression off her face before anyone could see, and adopted her look of stony calculation.
Zeus narrowed his eyes at the boy. "The Demigod Games are part of a peace treaty signed between the gods and Gaea. It ended what would have been a devastating war. Twenty-four demigods are to enter an arena. Only one will leave."
"I don't suppose that means the rest of us found a nice place to settle down," muttered the boy named Leo.
The king of the gods now glared at him, but Leo did not appear to be remotely frightened. Instead, he had the audacity to look bored.
"It will be a fight to the death," Zeus continued in his deep voice, "leaving only one demigod as a survivor, and victor."
Annabeth stared at him with stunned surprise. Out of everyone that was forced to come here, only one would still be alive afterwards. They rest would be dead. It could be her.
Everyone else seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time Annabeth did. Several noises filled the room, varying from desperate cries to defiant shouts. But she just stood there with a horrible reality crashing over her.
"You made us come here just to kill us?" asked the dark-haired girl that Annabeth had earlier overheard cursing.
Zeus held up his hand, silently commanding them all to fall silent. But not one person obliged. Even Annabeth had joined in with the angry voices. She repeated the demands along with the rest of them.
Thunder rumbled, the jarringly loud noise finally silencing the group. But it did nothing to stop the glares shot at the man on the stage.
"Your anger was expected," Zeus continued calmly, as if the outburst had not just occurred.
The girl with red-tipped hair was still standing next to Annabeth, and she snorted loudly. "You can take your expectations, and shove them up your-"
"Each of you are the child of a god," he said, apparently not hearing her words. The girl released a frustrated noise, but did not attempt to continue. "Two children from each god have been selected in a Reaping prior to this gathering. Once you hear your name, walk up to the stage, and accept your weapon."
Annabeth wanted to scream. But more than anything, she wanted to leave. She came here with no memories, and now a stranger wants her to fight to the death with twenty-three others who are in the same boat that she is? Nothing made sense, and judging by the gaping looks from everyone around her, no one else understood either.
But Zeus did not care. He was already looking at a misty cloud, and calling out a name: "Thalia Grace."
Annabeth's head swiveled, along with everyone else, to look at the short-haired girl, who was standing with her arms crossed, glaring at Zeus. She didn't walk towards the stage, not even when a long roll of thunder rumbled.
"This is insane," she declared loudly, her voice louder than the thunder. "Give me my memories back, and maybe I'll play your sadistic little game."
Electricity seemed to run through the air as Thalia stood there, eyes not blinking. This scene struck Annabeth as startlingly familiar. She had to blink several times to get the image of a younger, scraped up Thalia mirroring this Thalia's stature out of her mind.
"Play, as you say, 'my sadistic little game', and you'll get your memories back," retorted Zeus.
Thalia scowled, and narrowed her blue eyes. But her feet propelled her forwards, and she, albeit reluctantly, walked up towards the stage. Ignoring the steps, Thalia hopped up from the ground up to the wooden platform.
Annabeth watched as the other girl outstretched her hands expectantly, with a small, doubtful smirk on her lips. But the smirk faded as Zeus grabbed at the empty air, and produced a large, sparking spear. He placed it into her hands, and Thalia wrapped her hands around the hilt. The dark-haired girl stared down incredulously at the weapon in her possession.
"Thalia Grace," the king of the gods announced with a waving hand gesture in the girl's direction, "the daughter of Zeus."
Thalia's head whipped around to stare at Zeus. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, but the god simply ignored her. Already, the mist cloud had reappeared, and he was searching for the next name.
Annabeth lowered her head, and stared at the ground in concentration. What was happening? And why was it continuing to happen? Why had no one protested yet?
Taking in a deep ragged breath, she raised her head again, prepared to shout. But a hand snapped out, and grabbed her arm.
"I wouldn't do that," a whispering voice advised. Scowling, Annabeth turned her head, and found herself looking at a very pretty girl with choppy brown hair.
"Why not?" Annabeth hissed in response, jerking her arm out of the other girl's grip.
She shrugged. "Well, there appears to be security behind us just in case anyone decides to cause a scene like the one you're playing."
Still scowling, Annabeth peered over her shoulder, and realized that the other girl was right: several people had appeared, and were all standing against the wall, eyes scanning the ground. They all varied in gender and age, but most appeared to be young. Annabeth turned back to the other girl, who was smirking triumphantly.
"But don't worry," the girl continued, "I would so join you if you did decide to start screaming and protesting."
"Thanks," she grumbled, directing her attention back to the stage. "That really makes me feel better."
The other girl starting to respond, but Annabeth didn't hear her. She looked at the stage in shock, searching for a trace of Thalia Grace. But somehow, in the brief time Annabeth hadn't been paying attention, the girl had vanished. She cursed under her breath, and swore to herself to not lose focus again.
But that promise was easily broken as a pair of sea-green eyes met hers across a sea of people-
Annabeth cursed again, and snapped her head back to the stage. A boy was standing there now. He had blond hair, and was very tall. And he was holding a golden sword. This time, Annabeth paid very close attention to him descending down the stairs, and disappearing.
"Where did he go?" Annabeth found herself asking the girl next to her.
"Look closely at the air at the bottom of those stairs; can you see it rippling?"
Annabeth squinted, and found that the girl was right; there was something different over there. Right at the place the boy had disappeared, there was a clear rippling movement.
"For the next god," continued Zeus, reading from the mist cloud. "Percy Jackson. Son of Poseidon."