Rick Riordan Percy Jackson and the Olympians
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93 excuse me if I root for the Hermes cabin ." And don ' t be too discouraged when you read it , dear , Martha told me . He does have your interests at heart . " What do you mean ?" I asked . Don ' t mind her , George said . And next time , remember , snakes work for tips . " Enough , you two ," Hermes said . " Good-bye , Percy . For now ." Small white wings sprouted from his pith helmet . He began to glow , and I knew enough about the gods to avert my eyes before he revealed his true divine form . With a brilliant white flash he was gone , and I was alone with the horses .
I stared at the blue envelope in my hands . It was addressed in strong but elegant handwriting that I ' d seen once before , on a package Poseidon had sent me last summer .
Percy Jackson c / o Camp Half-Blood Farm Road 3.141 Long Island , New York 11954
An actual letter from my father . Maybe he would tell me I ' d done a good job getting the Fleece . He ' d explain about Tyson , or apologize for not talking to me sooner . There were so many things that I wanted that letter to say . I opened the envelope and unfolded the paper . Two simple words were printed in the middle of the page :
Brace Yourself
The next morning , everybody was buzzing about the chariot race , though they kept glancing nervously toward the sky like they expected to see Stymphalian birds gathering . None did . It was a beautiful summer day with blue sky and plenty of sunshine . The camp had started to look the way it should look : the meadows were green and lush ; the white columns gleamed on the Greek buildings ; dryads played happily in the woods . And I was miserable . I ' d been lying awake all night , thinking about Poseidon ' s warning . Brace yourself . I mean , he goes to the trouble of writing a letter , and he writes two words ? Martha the snake had told me not to feel disappointed . Maybe Poseidon had a reason for being so vague . Maybe he didn ' t know exactly what he was warning me about , but he sensed something big was about to happen — something that could completely knock me off my feet unless I was prepared . It was hard , but I tried to turn my thoughts to the race .
As Annabeth and I drove onto the track , I couldn ' t help admiring the work Tyson had done on the Athena chariot . The carriage gleamed with bronze reinforcements . The wheels were realigned with magical suspension so we glided along with hardly a bump . The rigging for the horses was so perfectly balanced that the team turned at the slightest tug of the reins .
Tyson had also made us two javelins , each with three buttons on the shaft . The first button primed the javelin to explode on impact , releasing razor wire that would tangle and shred an opponent ' s wheels . The second button produced a blunt ( but still very painful ) bronze spearhead designed to knock a driver out of his carriage . The third button brought up a grappling hook that could be used to lock onto an enemy ' s chariot or push it away .
I figured we were in pretty good shape for the race , but Tyson still warned me to be careful . The other chariot teams had plenty of tricks up their togas . " Here ," he said , just before the race began . He handed me a wristwatch . There wasn ' t anything special about it — just a white-and-silver clock face , a black leather strap — but as soon as I saw it I realized that this is what I ' d seen him tinkering on all summer .
I didn ' t usually like to wear watches . Who cared what time it was ? But I couldn ' t say no to
Tyson . " Thanks , man ." I put it on and found it was surprisingly light and comfortable . I could hardly