The Sea of Monsters (17 page)

Tyson loved horses, and I knew he'd love those fountains. I almost turned around to see the expression on his face before I remembered: Tyson was gone.

"You okay?" Annabeth asked me. "You look pale."

"I'm okay," I lied. "Just ... let's keep walking."

We passed all kinds of tame animals. A sea turtle napped in a stack of beach towels. A leopard stretched out asleep on the diving board. The resort guests—only young women, as far as I could see—lounged in deck chairs, drink-ing fruit smoothies or reading magazines while herbal gunk dried on their faces and manicurists in white uniforms did their nails.

As we headed up a staircase toward what looked like the main building, I heard a woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like a lullaby. Her words were in some lan-guage other than Ancient Greek, but just as old—Minoan, maybe, or something like that. I could understand what she sang about—moonlight in the olive groves, the colors of the sunrise. And magic. Something about magic. Her voice seemed to lift me off the steps and carry me toward her.

We came into a big room where the whole front wall was windows. The back wall was covered in mirrors, so the room seemed to go on forever. There was a bunch of expensivelooking white furniture, and on a table in one corner was a large wire pet cage. The cage seemed out of place, but I didn't think about it too much, because just then I saw the lady who'd been singing ... and whoa.

She sat at a loom the size of a big screen TV, her hands weaving colored thread back and forth with amazing skill. The tapestry shimmered like it was three dimensional—a waterfall scene so real I could see the water moving and clouds drifting across a fabric sky.

Annabeth caught her breath. "It's beautiful."

The woman turned. She was even prettier than her fab-ric. Her long dark hair was braided with threads of gold. She had piercing green eyes and she wore a silky black dress with shapes that seemed to move in the fabric: animal shadows, black upon black, like deer running through a forest at night.

"You appreciate weaving, my dear?" the woman asked.

"Oh, yes, ma'am!" Annabeth said. "My mother is—"

She stopped herself. You couldn't just go around announcing that your mom was Athena, the goddess who invented the loom. Most people would lock you in a rubber room.

Our hostess just smiled. "You have good taste, my dear. I'm so glad you've come. My name is C.C."

The animals in the corner cage started squealing. They must've been guinea pigs, from the sound of them.

We introduced ourselves to C.C. She looked me over with a twinge of disapproval, as if I'd failed some kind of test. Immediately, I felt bad. For some reason, I really wanted to please this lady.

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "You do need my help."

"Ma'am?" I asked.

C.C. called to the lady in the business suit. "Hylla, take Annabeth on a tour, will you? Show her what we have avail-able. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I've spoken with this young gentleman."

"But ..." Annabeth's voice sounded hurt. "What's wrong with my hair?"

C.C. smiled benevolently. "My dear, you are lovely. Really! But you're not showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!"

"Wasted?"

"Well, surely you're not happy the way you are! My goodness, there's not a single person who is. But don't worry. We can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dear, need to unlock your true self!"

Annabeth's eyes glowed with longing. I'd never seen her so much at a loss for words. "But ... what about Percy?"

"Oh, definitely," C.C. said, giving me a sad look. "Percy requires my personal attention. He needs much more work than you."

Normally if somebody had told me that, I would've gotten angry, but when C.C. said it, I felt sad. I'd disap-pointed her. I had to figure out how to do better.

The guinea pigs squealed like they were hungry.

"Well ..." Annabeth said. "I suppose ..."

"Right this way, dear," Hylla said. And Annabeth allowed herself to be led away into the waterfall-laced gardens of the spa.

C.C. took my arm and guided me toward the mirrored wall. "You see, Percy ... to unlock your potential, you'll need serious help. The first step is admitting that you're not happy the way you are."

I fidgeted in the front of the mirror. I hated thinking about my appearance—like the first zit that had cropped up on my nose at the beginning of the school year, or the fact that my two front teeth weren't perfectly even, or that my hair never stayed down straight.

C.C.'s voice brought all of these things to mind, as if she were passing me under a microscope. And my clothes were not cool. I knew that.

Who cares? Part of me thought. But standing in front of C.C.'s mirror, it was hard to see anything good in myself.

"There, there," C.C. consoled. "How about we try ... this."

She snapped her fingers and a sky-blue curtain rolled down over the mirror. It shimmered like the fabric on her loom.

"What do you see?" C.C. asked.

I looked at the blue cloth, not sure what she meant. "I don't—"

Then it changed colors. I saw myself—a reflection, but not a reflection. Shimmering there on the cloth was a cooler version of Percy Jackson—with just the right clothes, a confident smile on my face. My teeth were straight. No zits. A perfect tan. More athletic. Maybe a couple of inches taller. It was me, without the faults.

"Whoa," I managed.

"Do you want that?" C.C. asked. "Or shall I try a different—"

"No," I said. "That's ... that's amazing. Can you really—"

"I can give you a full makeover," C.C. promised.

"What's the catch?" I said. "I have to like ... eat a special diet?"

"Oh, it's quite easy," C.C. said. "Plenty of fresh fruit, a mild exercise program, and of course

... this."

She stepped over to her wet bar and filled a glass with water. Then she ripped open a drinkmix packet and poured in some red powder. The mixture began to glow. When it faded, the drink looked just like a strawberry milk shake.

"One of these, substituted for a regular meal," C.C. said. "I guarantee you'll see results immediately."

"How is that possible?"

She laughed. "Why question it? I mean, don't you want the perfect you right away?"

Something nagged at the back of my mind. "Why are there no guys at this spa?"

"Oh, but there are," C.C. assured me. "You'll meet them quite soon. Just try the mixture. You'll see."

I looked at the blue tapestry, at the reflection of me, but not me.

"Now, Percy," C.C. chided. "The hardest part of the makeover process is giving up control. You have to decide: do you want to trust your judgment about what you should be, or my judgment?"

My throat felt dry. I heard myself say, "Your judgment."

C.C. smiled and handed me the glass. I lifted it to my lips.

It tasted just like it looked—like a strawberry milk shake. Almost immediately a warm feeling spread through my gut: pleasant at first, then painfully hot, searing, as if the mixture were coming to a boil inside of me.

I doubled over and dropped the cup. "What have you ... what's happening?"

"Don't worry, Percy," C.C. said. "The pain will pass. Look! As I promised. Immediate results."

Something was horribly wrong.

The curtain dropped away, and in the mirror I saw my hands shriveling, curling, growing long delicate claws. Fur sprouted on my face, under my shirt, in every uncomfort-able place you can imagine. My teeth felt too heavy in my mouth. My clothes were getting too big, or C.C. was getting too tall—no, I was shrinking.

In one awful flash, I sank into a cavern of dark cloth. I was buried in my own shirt. I tried to run but hands grabbed me—hands as big as I was. I tried to scream for help, but all that came out of my mouth was, "Reeet, reeet, reeet!"

The giant hands squeezed me around the middle, lift-ing me into the air. I struggled and kicked with legs and arms that seemed much too stubby, and then I was staring, horrified, into the enormous face of C.C.

"Perfect!" her voice boomed. I squirmed in alarm, but she only tightened her grip around my furry belly. "See, Percy? You've unlocked your true self!"

She held me up to the mirror, and what I saw made me scream in terror, "Reeet, reeet, reeet!" There was C.C., beau-tiful and smiling, holding a fluffy, bucktoothed creature with tiny claws and white and orange fur. When I twisted, so did the furry critter in the mirror. I was ... I was

...

"A guinea pig," C.C. said. "Lovely, aren't you? Men are pigs, Percy Jackson. I used to turn them into real pigs, but they were so smelly and large and difficult to keep. Not much different than they were before, really. Guinea pigs are much more convenient! Now come, and meet the other men."

"Reeet!" I protested, trying to scratch her, but C.C. squeezed me so tight I almost blacked out.

"None of that, little one," she scolded, "or I'll feed you to the owls. Go into the cage like a good little pet. Tomorrow, if you behave, you'll be on your way. There is always a classroom in need of a new guinea pig."

My mind was racing as fast as my tiny little heart. I needed to get back to my clothes, which were lying in a heap on the floor. If I could do that, I could get Riptide out of my pocket and

... And what? I couldn't uncap the pen. Even if I did, I couldn't hold the sword.

I squirmed helplessly as C.C. brought me over to the guinea pig cage and opened the wire door.

"Meet my discipline problems, Percy," she warned. "They'll never make good classroom pets, but they might teach you some manners. Most of them have been in this cage for three hundred years. If you don't want to stay with them permanently, I'd suggest you—"

Annabeth's voice called: "Miss C.C.?"

C.C. cursed in Ancient Greek. She plopped me into the cage and closed the door. I squealed and clawed at the bars, but it was no good. I watched as C.C. hurriedly kicked my clothes under the loom just as Annabeth came in.

I almost didn't recognize her. She was wearing a sleeveless silk dress like C.C.'s, only white. Her blond hair was newly washed and combed and braided with gold. Worst of all, she was wearing makeup, which I never thought Annabeth would be caught dead in. I mean, she looked good. Really good. I probably would've been tongue-tied if I could've said any-thing except reet, reet, reet. But there was also something totally wrong about it. It just wasn't Annabeth.

She looked around the room and frowned. "Where's Percy?"

I squealed up a storm, but she didn't seem to hear me.

C.C. smiled. "He's having one of our treatments, my dear. Not to worry. You look wonderful!

What did you think of your tour?"

Annabeth's eyes brightened. "Your library is amazing!"

"Yes, indeed," C.C. said, "The best knowledge of the past three millennia. Anything you want to study, anything you want to be, my dear."

"An architect?"

"Pah!" C.C. said. "You, my dear, have the makings of a sorceress. Like me."

Annabeth took a step back. "A sorceress?"

"Yes, my dear." C.C. held up her hand. A flame appeared in her palm and danced across her fingertips. "My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one. We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men."

"I—I don't understand."

Again, I squealed my best, trying to get Annabeth's attention, but she either couldn't hear me or didn't think the noises were important. Meanwhile, the other guinea pigs were emerging from their hutch to check me out. I didn't think it was possible for guinea pigs to look mean, but these did. There were half a dozen, with dirty fur and cracked teeth and beady red eyes. They were covered with shavings and smelled like they really had been in here for three hun-dred years, without getting their cage cleaned.

"Stay with me," C.C. was telling Annabeth. "Study with me. You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!"

"But—"

"You are too intelligent, my dear," C.C. said. "You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes. How many great female half-blood heroes can you name?"

"Um, Atalanta, Amelia Earhart—"

"Bah! Men get all the glory." C.C. closed her fist and extinguished the magic flame. "The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now there were powerful women!

And me, of course. The greatest of all."

"You ... C.C. ... Circe!"

"Yes, my dear."

Annabeth backed up, and Circe laughed. "You need not worry. I mean you no harm."

"What have you done to Percy?"

"Only helped him realize his true form."

Annabeth scanned the room. Finally she saw the cage, and me scratching at the bars, all the other guinea pigs crowding around me. Her eyes went wide.

"Forget him," Circe said. "Join me and learn the ways of sorcery."

"But—"

"Your friend will be well cared for. He'll be shipped to a wonderful new home on the mainland. The kindergartners will adore him. Meanwhile, you will be wise and powerful. You will have all you ever wanted."

Annabeth was still staring at me, but she had a dreamy expression on her face. She looked the same way I had when Circe enchanted me into drinking the guinea pig milk shake. I squealed and scratched, trying to warn her to snap out of it, but I was absolutely powerless.

"Let me think about it," Annabeth murmured. "Just... give me a minute alone. To say goodbye."

"Of course, my dear," Circe cooed. "One minute. Oh ... and so you have absolute privacy ..." She waved her hand and iron bars slammed down over the windows. She swept out of the room and I heard the locks on the door click shut behind her.

The dreamy look melted off Annabeth's face.

She rushed over to my cage. "All right, which one is you?

I squealed, but so did all the other guinea pigs. Annabeth looked desperate. She scanned the room and spotted the cuff of my jeans sticking out from under the loom.