A web of fates | Percy Jackson and the Olympians

X| Oliver gets turned into a guinea pig

Daphne woke up in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform fabric. Oliver, Percy and Annabeth sat next to her, tacking into the wind.

In Daphnes mouth, a straw and soon after she noticed the taste of the brownies that Silena's dad had sent her once.

Daphne tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy.

"Rest," Annabeth said. "You're going to need it."

"Where's Tyson?"

Percy simply shook his head, and that was all Daphne needed to know.

They were silent while the waves tossed them up and down. Oliver had moved next to Daphne.

"He may have survived," she said halfheartedly. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

Percy nodded, but they had no reason to feel hopeful. Daphne had seen that explosion rip through solid iron. If Tyson had been down in the boiler room, there was no way he could've lived.

He'd given his life for them.

Waves lapped at the boat. Annabeth showed them some things she'd salvaged from the wreckage-Hermes's thermos (now empty), a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts, and a bottle of Dr Pepper.

Annabeth and Oliver had fished out of the water and found Percy's knapsack, bitten in half by Scylla's teeth.

Most of their stuff had floated away, but they still had Hermes's bottle of multivitamins, and of course Percy had Riptide.

They sailed for hours. Now that they were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid.

The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too-as if a thunderstorm were coming.

Or something even more dangerous.

No matter which way they turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into her eyes. They took turns sipping from the Dr Pepper, shading themselves with the sail as best they could.

And the group talked about Percy's latest dream of Grover.

By Annabeth's estimate, they had less than twenty-four hours to find Grover, assuming my dream was accurate, and assuming the Cyclops Polyphemus didn't change his mind and try to marry Grover.

"Yeah," Percy said bitterly. "You can never trust a Cyclops."

Daphne shifted uncomfortably; Oliver reached out to hold her hand and Daphne took it. She knew they both needed some comfort.

Annabeth stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Percy. I was wrong about Tyson, okay? I wish I could tell him that."

Percy looked down at their measly possessions-the empty wind thermos, the bottle of multivitamins.

Daphne thought about Luke's look of rage when they had tried to talk to him about their dad.

"Annabeth, what's Chiron's prophecy?" Percy said randomly.

Annabeth pursed her lips. "Percy I shouldn't."

"I know Chiron promised the gods he wouldn't tell me. But you didn't promise, did you?"

"Knowledge isn't always good for you."

"Your mom is the wisdom goddess!"

"I know! But every time heroes learn the future, they try to change it, and it never works."

"The gods are worried about something I'll do when I get older," Percy guessed. "Something when I turn sixteen."

Annabeth twisted her Yankees cap in her hands. "Percy, I don't know the full prophecy, but it warns about a half-blood child of the Big Three-the next one who lives to the age of sixteen. That's the real reason Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore a pact after World War II not to have any more kids. The next child of the Big Three who reaches sixteen will be a dangerous weapon."