Rick Riordan
The Sea Monsters - 02
I looked around desperately for Annabeth.
There she was.
Luckily or unluckily, she was a strong swimmer. She'd made it past the mines and the rocks.
She was almost to the black beach.
Then the mist cleared and I saw them—the Sirens.
Imagine a flock of vultures the size of people—with dirty black plumage, gray talons, and
wrinkled pink necks. Now imagine human heads on top of those necks, but the human heads keep
changing.
I couldn't hear them, but I could see they were singing. As their mouths moved, their faces
morphed into people I knew—my mom, Poseidon, Grover, Tyson, Chiron. All the people I most
wanted to see. They smiled reassuringly, inviting me forward. But no matter what shape they took,
their mouths were greasy and caked with the remnants of old meals. Like vultures, they'd been
eating with their faces, and it didn't look like they'd been feasting on Monster Donuts.
Annabeth swam toward them.
I knew I couldn't let her get out of the water. The sea was my only advantage. It had always
protected me one way or another. I propelled myself forward and grabbed her inkle.
The moment I touched her, a shock went through my body, and I saw the Sirens the way
Annabeth must've been seeing them.
Three people sat on a picnic blanket in Central Park. A feast was spread out before them. I
recognized Annabeth's dad from photos she'd shown me—an athletic-looking, sandy-haired guy in
his forties. He was holding hands with a beautiful woman who looked a lot like Annabeth. She was
dressed casually—in blue jeans and a denim shirt and hiking boots—but something about the
woman radiated power. I knew that I was looking at the goddess Athena. Next to them sat a young
man ... Luke.
The whole scene glowed in a warm, buttery light. The three of them were talking and
laughing, and when they saw Annabeth, their faces lit up with delight. Annabeth's mom and dad
held out their arms invitingly. Luke grinned and gestured for Annabeth to sit next to him—as if he'd
never betrayed her, as if he were still her friend.
Behind the trees of Central Park, a city skyline rose. I caught my breath, because it was
Manhattan, but not Manhattan. It had been totally rebuilt from dazzling white marble, bigger and
grander than ever—with golden windows and rooftop gardens. It was better than New York. Better
than Mount Olympus.
I knew immediately that Annabeth had designed it all. She was the architect for a whole new
world. She had reunited her parents. She had saved Luke. She had done everything she'd ever
wanted.
I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes, all I saw were the Sirens—ragged vultures with
human faces, ready to feed on another victim.
I pulled Annabeth back into the surf. I couldn't hear her, but I could tell she was screaming.
She kicked me in the face, but I held on.
I willed the currents to carry us out into the bay. Annabeth pummeled and kicked me, making
it hard to concentrate. She thrashed so much we almost collided with a floating mine. I didn't know
what to do. I'd never get back to the ship alive if she kept fighting.
We went under and Annabeth stopped struggling. Her expression became confused. Then
our heads broke the surface and she started to fight again.
The water! Sound didn't travel well underwater. If I could submerge her long enough, I could
break the spell of the music. Of course, Annabeth wouldn't be able to breathe, but at the moment,
that seemed like a minor problem.
I grabbed her around the waist and ordered the waves to push us down.
We shot into the depths—ten feet, twenty feet. I knew I had to be careful because I could
withstand a lot more pressure than Annabeth. She fought and struggled for breath as bubbles rose
around us.
Bubbles.
I was desperate. I had to keep Annabeth alive. I imagined all the bubbles in the sea—always
churning, rising. I imagined them coming together, being pulled toward me.
The sea obeyed. There was a flurry of white, a tickling sensation all around me, and when
70