Yes. Tyson's voice, loud and clear in my head.

I looked over at him, startled. I'd heard Nereids and other water spirits speak to me underwater before, but it never occurred to me… Tyson was a son of Poseidon. We could communicate with each other.

Rainbow, Tyson said.

I nodded, then closed my eyes and concentrated, adding my voice to Tyson's: RAINBOW! We need you!

Immediately, shapes shimmered in the darkness below—three horses with fish tails, galloping upward faster than dolphins. Rainbow and his friends glanced in our direction and seemed to read our thoughts. They whisked into the wreckage, and a moment later burst upward in a cloud of bubbles—Grover, Annabeth, and Clarisse each clinging to the neck of a hippocampus.

Rainbow, the largest, had Clarisse. He raced over to us and allowed Tyson to grab hold of his mane. His friend who bore Annabeth did the same for me.

We broke the surface of the water and raced away from Polyphemus's island. Behind us, I could hear the Cyclops roaring in triumph, "I did it! I finally sank Nobody!"

I hoped he never found out he was wrong.

We skimmed across the sea as the island shrank to a dot and then disappeared.

"Did it," Annabeth muttered in exhaustion. "We…"

She slumped against the neck of the hippocampus and instantly fell asleep.

I didn't know how far the hippocampi could take us. I didn't know where we were going. I just propped up Annabeth so she wouldn't fall off, covered her in the Golden Fleece that we'd been through so much to get, and said a silent prayer of thanks.

Which reminded me… I still owed the gods a debt.

"You're a genius," I told Annabeth quietly.

Then I put my head against the Fleece, and before I knew it, I was asleep, too.

SEVENTEEN

WE GET A SURPRISE

ON MIAMI BEACH

"Percy, wake up."

Salt water splashed my face. Annabeth was shaking my shoulder.

In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. I could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"Miami, I think," Annabeth said. "But the hippocampi are acting funny."

Sure enough, our fishy friends had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look happy. One of them sneezed. I could tell what they were thinking.

"This is as far as they'll take us," I said. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

None of us was very psyched about that, but we thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said good-bye.

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, we swam for shore. The waves pushed us forward, and in no time we were back in the mortal world. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us—five kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster—they didn't let on.

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the Miami Herald. She cursed. "June eighteenth! We've been away from camp ten days!"

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said.

But I knew it wasn't. Time traveled differently in monstrous places.

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed. "We have to get the Fleece back tonight."

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. It's your fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered—"

"Percy's fault?!" Annabeth exploded. "Clarisse, how can you say that? You are the biggest—"

"Stop it!" I said.

Clarisse put her head in hands. Annabeth stomped her foot in frustration.

The thing was: I'd almost forgotten this quest was supposed to be Clarisse's. For a scary moment, I saw things from her point of view. How would I feel if a bunch of other heroes had butted in and made me look bad?

I thought about what I'd overheard in the boiler room of the CSS Birmingham—Ares yelling at Clarisse, warning her that she'd better not fail. Ares couldn't care less about the camp, but if Clarisse made him look bad…

"Clarisse," I said, "what did the Oracle tell you exactly?"

She looked up. I thought she was going to tell me off, but instead she took a deep breath and recited her prophecy:

"Ouch," Grover mumbled.

"No," I said. "No… wait a minute. I've got it."

I searched my pockets for money, and found nothing but a golden drachma. "Does anybody have any cash?"

Annabeth and Grover shook their heads morosely. Clarisse pulled a wet Confederate dollar from her pocket and sighed.

"Cash?" Tyson asked hesitantly. "Like… green paper?"

I looked at him. "Yeah."

"Like the kind in duffel bags?"

"Yeah, but we lost those bags days a-g-g—"

I stuttered to a halt as Tyson rummaged in his saddle pack and pulled out the Ziploc bag full of cash that Hermes had included in our supplies.

"Tyson!" I said. "How did you—"

"Thought it was a feed bag for Rainbow," he said. "Found it floating in sea, but only paper inside. Sorry."

He handed me the cash. Fives and tens, at least three hundred dollars.

I ran to the curb and grabbed a taxi that was just letting out a family of cruise passengers. "Clarisse," I yelled. "Come on. You're going to the airport. Annabeth, give her the Fleece."

I'm not sure which of them looked more stunned as I took the Fleece letter jacket from Annabeth, tucked the cash into its pocket, and put it in Clarisse's arms.

Clarisse said, "You'd let me—"

"It's your quest," I said. "We only have enough money for one flight. Besides, I can't travel by air. Zeus would blast me into a million pieces. That's what the prophecy meant: you'd fail without friends, meaning you'd need our help, but you'd have to fly home alone. You have to get the Fleece back safely."

I could see her mind working—suspicious at first, wondering what trick I was playing, then finally deciding I meant what I said.

She jumped in the cab. "You can count on me. I won't fail."

"Not failing would be good."

The cab peeled out in a cloud of exhaust. The Fleece was on its way.

"Percy," Annabeth said, "that was so—"

"Generous?" Grover offered.

"Insane," Annabeth corrected. "You're betting the lives of everybody at camp that Clarisse will get the Fleece safely back by tonight?"

"It's her quest," I said. "She deserves a chance."

"Percy is nice," Tyson said.

"Percy is too nice," Annabeth grumbled, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, she was a little impressed. I'd surprised her, anyway. And that wasn't easy to do.