"Percy," Chiron yelled, "you have to watch out for—"

His voice was drowned out by loud shouting behind him—a bunch of voices whooping it up like Comanche warriors.

"What?" I yelled.

"Curse my relatives!" Chiron ducked as a plate flew over his head and shattered somewhere out of sight. "Annabeth, you shouldn't have let Percy leave camp! But if you do get the Fleece—"

"Yeah, baby!" somebody behind Chiron yelled. "Woo-hoooooo!"

The music got cranked up, subwoofers so loud it made our boat vibrate.

"— Miami," Chiron was yelling. "I'll try to keep watch—"

Our misty screen smashed apart like someone on the other side had thrown a bottle at it, and Chiron was gone.

An hour later we spotted land—a long stretch of beach lined with high-rise hotels. The water became crowded with fishing boats and tankers. A coast guard cruiser passed on our starboard side, then turned like it wanted a second look. I guess it isn't every day they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour, manned by three kids.

"That's Virginia Beach!" Annabeth said as we approached the shoreline. "Oh my gods, how did the Princess Andromeda travel so far overnight? That's like—"

"Five hundred and thirty nautical miles," I said.

She stared at me. "How did you know that?"

"I–I'm not sure."

Annabeth thought for a moment. "Percy, what's our position?"

"36 degrees, 44 minutes north, 76 degrees, 2 minutes west," I said immediately. Then I shook my head. "Whoa. How did I know that?"

"Because of your dad," Annabeth guessed. "When you're at sea, you have perfect bearings. That is so cool."

I wasn't sure about that. I didn't want to be a human GPS unit. But before I could say anything, Tyson tapped my shoulder. "Other boat is coming."

I looked back. The coast guard vessel was definitely on our tail now. Its lights were flashing and it was gaining speed.

"We can't let them catch us," I said. "They'll ask too many questions."

"Keep going into Chesapeake Bay," Annabeth said. "I know a place we can hide."

I didn't ask what she meant, or how she knew the area so well. I risked loosening the thermos cap a little more, and a fresh burst of wind sent us rocketing around the northern tip of Virginia Beach into Chesapeake Bay. The coast guard boat fell farther and farther behind. We didn't slow down until the shores of the bay narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered the mouth of a river.

I could feel the change from salt water to fresh water. Suddenly I was tired and frazzled, like I was coming down off a sugar high. I didn't know where I was anymore, or which way to steer the boat. It was a good thing Annabeth was directing me.

"There," she said. "Past that sandbar."

We veered into a swampy area choked with marsh grass. I beached the lifeboat at the foot of a giant cypress.

Vine-covered trees loomed above us. Insects chirred in the woods. The air was muggy and hot, and steam curled off the river. Basically, it wasn't Manhattan, and I didn't like it.

"Come on," Annabeth said. "It's just down the bank."

"What is?" I asked.

"Just follow." She grabbed a duffel bag. "And we'd better cover the boat. We don't want to draw attention."

After burying the lifeboat with branches, Tyson and I followed Annabeth along the shore, our feet sinking in red mud. A snake slithered past my shoe and disappeared into the grass.

"Not a good place," Tyson said. He swatted the mosquitoes that were forming a buffet line on his arm.

After another few minutes, Annabeth said, "Here."

All I saw was a patch of brambles. Then Annabeth moved aside a woven circle of branches, like a door, and I realized I was looking into a camouflaged shelter.

The inside was big enough for three, even with Tyson being the third. The walls were woven from plant material, like a Native American hut, but they looked pretty waterproof. Stacked in the corner was everything you could want for a campout—sleeping bags, blankets, an ice chest, and a kerosene lamp. There were demigod provisions, too— bronze javelin tips, a quiver full of arrows, an extra sword, and a box of ambrosia. The place smelled musty, like it had been vacant for a long time.

"A half-blood hideout." I looked at Annabeth in awe. You made this place?"

"Thalia and I," she said quietly. "And Luke."

That shouldn't have bothered me. I mean, I knew Thalia and Luke had taken care of Annabeth when she was little. I knew the three of them had been runaways together, hiding from monsters, surviving on their own before Grover found them and tried to get them to Half-Blood Hill. But whenever Annabeth talked about the time she'd spent with them, I kind of felt… I don't know. Uncomfortable?

No. That's not the word.

The word was jealous.

"So…" I said. "You don't think Luke will look for us here?"

She shook her head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this. I doubt Luke even remembers where they are. Or cares."

She threw herself down on the blankets and started going through her duffel bag. Her body language made it pretty clear she didn't want to talk.

"Um, Tyson?" I said. "Would you mind scouting around outside? Like, look for a wilderness convenience store or something?"

"Convenience store?"

"Yeah, for snacks. Powdered donuts or something. Just don't go too far."

"Powdered donuts," Tyson said earnestly. "I will look for powdered donuts in the wilderness." He headed outside and started calling, "Here, donuts!"

Once he was gone, I sat down across from Annabeth. "Hey, I'm sorry about, you know, seeing Luke."

"It's not your fault." She unsheathed her knife and started cleaning the blade with a rag.

"He let us go too easily," I said.

I hoped I'd been imagining it, but Annabeth nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. What we overheard him say about a gamble, and 'they'll take the bait'… I think he was talking about us."

"The Fleece is the bait? Or Grover?"

She studied the edge of her knife. "I don't know, Percy. Maybe he wants the Fleece for himself. Maybe he's hoping we'll do the hard work and then he can steal it from us. I just can't believe he would poison the tree."

"What did he mean," I asked, "that Thalia would've been on his side?"

"He's wrong."

"You don't sound sure."

Annabeth glared at me, and I started to wish I hadn't asked her about this while she was holding a knife.

"Percy, you know who you remind me of most? Thalia. You guys are so much alike it's scary. I mean, either you would've been best friends or you would've strangled each other."

"Let's go with 'best friends. "

"Thalia got angry with her dad sometimes. So do you. Would you turn against Olympus because of that?"

I stared at the quiver of arrows in the corner. "No."

"Okay, then. Neither would she. Luke's wrong." Annabeth stuck her knife blade into the dirt.

I wanted to ask her about the prophecy Luke had mentioned and what it had to do with my sixteenth birthday. But I figured she wouldn't tell me. Chiron had made it pretty clear that I wasn't allowed to hear it until the gods decided otherwise.

"So what did Luke mean about Cyclopes?" I asked. "He said you of all people—"

"I know what he said. He… he was talking about the real reason Thalia died."

I waited, not sure what to say.

Annabeth drew a shaky breath. "You can never trust a Cyclops, Percy. Six years ago, on the night Grover was leading us to Half-Blood Hill—"

She was interrupted when the door of the hut creaked open. Tyson crawled in.

"Powdered donuts!" he said proudly, holding up a pastry box.

Annabeth stared at him. "Where did you get that? We're in the middle of the wilderness. There's nothing around for—"