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PERCY JACKSON AND
THE SINGER OF APOLLO
BY RICK RIGRDAN
I know whar you'te going to ask,
“Percy Jackson, why are you hanging from a Times
Square billboard without your pancs on, about rm fall pe
your death?”
Good question, You can blame Apollo, god of marsic.
archery, and pooury—alse the goxl of making me do supid
quests.
This partkcular disaster stared when | brought my
Friend Grover some alumina cans for his birthday,
Pethaps I should mencion ... [im a demigod. My dad.
Poseidon, it the bord of the sea, which soune cool, I guess,RICK RIORDAN
but mostly it means my life is Filled with monster attacks
and annoying Greek pods who tend to pop upon the sub-
way on in the middle of math class or when I'm taking a
shower. (Long story. Don't ask.)
I figured maybe I'd get a day off from the craziness for
Grover's birthday, bur of course | was wrong,
Grover and his girlftiend. funiper, were spending the
day in Prospect Park in Brooklyn, doing naturey scuff like
dancing with the local tree nymphs and serenading the
aquirtels. Grower's a satyr. That's his idea of hun.
Juniper seemed oo be having an especially good rime.
While Grower and [ sat on the bench together, she Erol
icked across Long Meadow with the other nature spirits
her chlorephyll-tinted eyes glining in the sunlight. Since
she was a dryad, Juniper's life source was ched 00 a juniper
bush back on Long Island, bur Grover explained thar she
could take shart trips away from home a3 long as she kept
a handful of fredh juniper benties in her pockets. | didn't
want to ask wha would happen if the berries gor acciden-
rally smashed,
Anyway, we hung our fora while, talking and enjoying
the nice weather. | gave Grover his ahiminum cans, which
may sound like a lane gift, bur dhat’s his Favorive snack,
He happily mainched on the cans while the nymphs
1B MurperColiPebisbers _ Copyrighted MurerialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
started discussing what party games we should play. Grover
pulled a blindfold out of his pocker and suggested Pin the
‘Tail on the Human. which made me kind of nervous since
I was the only human.
Then, without warning, the sunlight brightened. The
air mumned uncomfortably hot. Twenty feet away, the grass
hissed and a cloud of steam whooshed up like somebody
opened a big pressing machine at a Laundromat, The steam
cleared, and staring in front of ws was the god Apollo,
‘Geds can look like anyihing they want. bur Apalle
always seemed co go for char [-just-auditioned-for-a-boy-
baned loak, Today be was rocking pencil-thin jeans, a white
matche shirt. and gilded Ray-Ban sunglases His wavy
bland hair glistened with produce, When he smiled the
dryads squealed and gigpled.
“Oh, no... Grower murmared, “This can't be good.”
“Percy Jackson!” Apollo beamed at me. “And, um, your
goat friend—
“His name is Grover.” Laid. “And we'te kind of off dary,
Lord Apollo, In’s Grover’s birehday,”
“Happy birthday?" Apalle said. “I'm so glad you're rake
ing the day off. That means you two have aime to belp me
wath a amall problem!
* + #
a
I HirserColkinPablabers Copyeigherd MunerialRICK RIORDAN
Nanuralhy the problem wasn’t small.
Apollo led Grover and me aveay frorm the party 30 we
could ralk im privace, Juniper didn’t want ov ker Grover
ges but she couldn't argue with a god. Grover promised to
come back safely. | hoped it was a promise he'd be able to
keep.
When we gor co the edge of the woods, Apollo aoed us.
“Allow me to introduce the chryseae celedones.”
The god snapped his fingers. More steam erupted from
the ground and three golden women appeared in from of
us, When | say golden, | mean they were literally gokd.
Their metallic skin glittered, Their deeveless gowns were
mai from enough gilded fabric to financea bailout, Their
golden hair was braked and piled on top of their heads
ina sore of classical beehive hainda, They were uniformly
beautiful, and uniformly cerrifying,
I'd seen living: tares—aurematons—many times before.
Beautiful or nod, they almost always tried oo kill nye.
“Uh... Deook a seep back. “Whar did you say these
were? Krissy Kelly something?”
“Chryseae celedones,” Apollo wiki, “Golden singers.
They're my backup band!”
I glanced at Grower, wondering if this was some kind of
Cogprighted MaterialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
Grover wasn't Lughing. His mouth hung open in
amazement, as if the golden ladies were the largest. tasti-
est aluminum cans he'd ever seen, “l—I didnt chink they
were reall”
Apallo senibed. “Well. its been a fevwe centuries since |
broughe them our. IF they perform too often, you kmow,
their nowely wears off, They used oo live ar my temple in
Delphi, Man. they could rock that place. Now | anky use
them for special occasions.”
(Grower got teary-eyed. “You broughe them out for my
biethday?”
Apallo baughed. “No, fool! Ive got a concert tonight
on Mount Olympus. Everyone it going to be there! The
Nine Muses are opening, and I'm performing a mix of
okd favorites and new material. | mean, its mor like | need
the celedanes, My solo career has heen great. Bur people
will expect to hear some of my clastic hits with the girls:
‘Daphne on My Mind? ‘Stairway co Olympus! “Sweet
Home Atlantis! [rs going wo be awesonse!”
Tried nor eo look nauseous, I'd heard Apollo's poetry
before, and if his music was even half that bad, this concert
vwas going to blow harder than Aeohue the wind pod.
“Great.” | said hall-heareedly. “So whar's the problem?”
Apollo's smile Faded, “Listen.”
8 HirperCollnaPebiahers Copprighted MaterialRICK RIORDAN
He vurned to his gakden singers and raised his hands like
aconductor On cue, they sing in harmony: “Laaaa
Ir was only ane chord, bur ix filled me with bliss, I sud-
denly couldn't remember where | was or what 1 was doing.
Ifthe goklen singers had decided to tear me eo pieces at
thar moment, Dwouldi't have resisted, a3 long as they kept
singing. Nothing martered co me, excepe che sound.
Then the golden pirls went silent. ‘The feeling passed,
Their faces retumed to beautiful, impassive mera.
“Thar...” 1 swallowed. “That was amazing.
“Amazing!” Apollo wrinkled his nase, “There are only
three of them! Their harmonies sound empey, | can't per
form without the full quartet.”
Grover was weeping with joy. “Theyre so beautifull
They're perfect”
I was kind of glad Juniper wasn't wishin earshot, since
she's the jealous type,
Apella eresed his tan arms. “Theyre nor perfect,
Mr, Satyr, [ need all four or che concert will be ruined.
Linforcunarely, my fourth celedon wene rogue this morn-
ing. | can’t find her anywhere”
| looked at the three golden aucomarons, staring at
Apolks, quietly waiting for orders. “Uh . . . how does a
backup singer go rogue!”
1B HirperCollnPeblabers Coprrighird MaterialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
Apollo made another conductor verve, and the singers
sighed in three-part harmony. The sound was so nsourn-
ful my heare sank inne mey pur, Achar moment, | felt sure
I'd never be happy again. Then, just at quickly. the feeling
dissipared,
“They're our of warranty” the god explained.
“Hephaesis made them for me back in the old days. and
they worked fine... until the day after their nwo-thousand-
year warranty expired. Then. naturally, WHAM! The
fourth ane gocs haywire and mins off po che big city.” He
gestured in the general direction of Manhattan. “Of course
L tried ee complain to Hephaestus, bat he’s all, “Well. did
you have my Protection Plus package?” And I'm like, ‘I
didn’t want your dupid ectended warranty! And he acts
ag if it's my faulr the celedon broke, and says if I'd bought
the Mus package, | could've had a dedicated service Isoe-
line. bur —"
“Whoa, whea, whoa.” [incenrupoed. | really didn't want
to pet in the middle af a god-versus-god argument. I'd been
there toc many times. “So iF you knew chat your celedon is
inthe city. why can't you just look for her yourself”
“1 don't hawe cime! | have to practice. [ have to write a
set List and doa sound check! Besides, this is what heroes
are for.”
Caprrighord MaterialRICK RIDROAM
“Funniing. the gods’ errands,” | miattered.
“Exactly.” Apollo spread bis hands. “I assume the miss:
ing celedon is roaming she Theater Diswrict, looking for a
suitable place to audition. Celedones have the usual starhet
dreams—being discovered. headlining a Broadway musi-
cal. thar sort of thing. Mo of the time | can keep bear
ambitions uncer control, | mean [can't have them upsap-
bg me. can 1? Bur [ins aaee wirhous ne around she chinks
dhe's the mext Katy Penry. You two need to get her before
she causes any problems, And hurry! The concert is tonight
and Manhattan ig a large island”
‘Grower tugged his goatee. “So _. . you want us to find
ber while you do sound checks?”
“Think of it as a Gwar” Apollo said. “Not just fer me,
bur for all those morals in Manharean.”
“Oh.” Grover’s voice got very small, “Ch. na...”
“Whar?” | demanded. “Whar oh, no?™
Vears ago, Grover created a magic empathy link berwecn
ut fanother kong story) amd we could eense each other's
emotions, It wasn't exactly mir meading. bur | could tell
he was terrified.
“Percy.” he saicl, “if thar celedom starts singing in public,
in the middle of aftemoon rush hour—"
“She'll cause no end of have.” Apoalls said, “She might
@ HarerColkmPabiaben Caprrighted MaterialPERCY JACKSON AMD THE SINGER OF APOLLO
sing a love song, or a hullaby, of a parriotic war nine, and
whatever the mortals bear. .~
I shuddered, One-sigh from she golden gids had phanged
me inte despain even with Apolle conmolling their power.
L imagined a rogue celedon busting into song in a crowded
city—purting people co deep, or making chen fall im lowe,
oc urging them to Fight.
“She has ao be seopped.” | agreed, “Bur why us”
“Like you!” Apollo grinned. “You've faced the Sirent
before, This ion't poo different. Just pur some wax in your
ears. Besides, pour friend Grover here isa satyr. He has nat
ural resistance to magical music. Plus he can play the byre”
“Whar bere?” | asked,
Apollo snapped bis fingers. Suddenly Grover was hold-
ing the weirdest musical inserumene U'd ever seen, The
base was a bollowed-out tortoise shell, which made me
feel really bad for the rortoise. Tyo polished wooden arms
suck cut one side like a bull's horns, with a bar across the
fop and seven sirings stretching from the bar to the base
af the shell, In looked ke a combination harp, banjo, and
dead turtle.
“Oh!” Grover almost dropped the bye. “1 couldn't! This
is your—~
“Yes.” Apollo agreed cheerfully, “That's ny own personal
3
s HarprCollim Paitiabers Coprrigherd MutrsialRICK RIGROAN
Iyre. OF course if you damage it, [ll incinerate you, but [in
sure you'll be carefull! You can play the lyre, cant you!”
“Lm. ° Grover plicked a few moves thar sounded like
a funewal dirge.
“Keep practicing.” Apollo cid. “You'll need the lyre's
magic to capaure the celedon. Have Pescy distract her vehile
you play.”
“Diistrace her.” | repeared,
This quest was sounding werse and warse. | didn't see
how a torceieeshell harp could defeat a gokden auromaton,
bur Apollo clapped me on the shoulder like everything was
settled,
“Excellent!” he said. “U'1 meer you at the Empire Seate
Building at sunset. Bring me the celedon. One way or
another [Il persuade Hephacsms oo fix her, Just don’t be
fare! E can't keep my audience waiting. And remember, not
a scratch on that lyre.”
Then the sun geal and his golden backup singers disap-
peared in a cloud of steam.
“Happy birthday co me, Grover whimpered, and
plocked a sour note on the lyre,
We caught the subway co Times Square, We figured thar
would be a good place ro ssant looking, br was in the middle
af the Theater District and full of weird street performers
1 MarperColkePeblabers Coprrigherd bLatcrialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
arel abour a billion courisss, so if was dhe natural place fora
pollen diva to get some attention for herself,
Grower hadn't bothered disguising himself, His whine
‘T-shirt read: What Would Pan Det The tips of his horn
stuck our from bis curly hair, Usually be wore jeans over
his shaggy logs and specially fined shoes aver his hooves.
burt today trom the waist down he was au nagurel goat,
| doubted it would mater, Most morrals couldn't see
through the Mist, which hid the true appearance of man
sters, Even without Grower's normal dixguise, people would
have co look really cloweky to eatior he yeas a satye, ane even
then they probably wouldn't bat an eye. This was New
York. after alll.
Aswe pushed through the crowd, | kept searching for
the glint of gold, hoping mo spor the rogue celedon, bur
the square was packed as usual. A guy wearing only bia
underwear and a guisar was having his picture taken with
some courtsts, Cops hung ouron the seeet comers, looking
bored. At Broxhway and West Forty-Ninth, the intersec-
don was blocked and a crew of roadies was setring up
wore dort of stage. Preachers, ticket acalpers, and hawk-
ers shouted over each other, crying 1 get anention, Music
blasted fron dozens of loudspeakers, bur | déda't hear any
magical singing,
Grower had given mea ball of warm wax co scuff in
S HarperCollmPabishers Gaprrighted MitarialRICK RIGROAN
my ears whenever necessary. He said he always kept some
handy, like chewing gum, which didnt make me eager
use in,
He bumped into a pretzel vendos's cart and hunched
back, hugging Apollo's lyre protectively,
“You know how oo use that ching?” | asked. “I mean,
what kind of magle does in do?”
Grover's eyes widened, “You dont know? Apollo built
the walls of Troy just by playing this lyre. With the right
song, it can creape almost anything!”
“Like a cage for the ecledon?” | asked.
“Uh... yeah!”
He didn’t sound coo conficene, ane | wasn't sure | wanted
him plying Guitar Here with a godly tortoise banjo. Sure,
‘Grover could do some magic with his reed pipes. On a good
day, be could make plants grow and rangle his enemies, On
a bal day, he could only remember Justin Bieber songs.
which didn't do anything exeept give me a headache.
Leried eo think of a plan, | wished my girlfriend, Annabeth,
was here, She was more of rhe planning type. Unformmarely,
she was. offfin San Francisco vieting her dad.
Grover grabbed ey arm. “There.”
I followed his gare. Across the square, ar the oundoor
stage, workers scurried around, insqalling lights om the
ir
@ MareetColbsiPebinbens Coorrighted MaterialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
scaffolling. stuing up microphone stands, and phipging in
giant speakers. Probably they were prepping fora Broadway
Nousical preview or somerhing,
Then | saw her—a golden lady making her way toward
the platform. She climbed over the police barricades shar
cordoned off the intersection, sqpicered between work
ers who completely ignored her, and breaded for the seeps.
stage righ. She glanced at the crowd in Times: Square
and smiled, a3 if imagining their wild applause. Then she
headed for che center microphone,
“CWh. pode!” Grover yelped. “I thar sound system ie
meee
| stuffed wax in my ears.as we ran fow the stage.
Fighting aucomarons is bad encagh. Fighting ene in a
crowd of mortals ig a recipe for disaster. 1 dida’t want eo
worry about the mortals’ safery and mine and figure out
how no capmint the ecledon. [ mecded a way no evacuate
‘Times Square without causing a stampede.
As we wove through the crowd, | grabbed the nearest
cop by the shoulder,
“Hey! I tokd him, “Presidential motorcade coming! You
guys beter clear the arcers™
| pointed down Seventh Avenue, C4 course there was no
S HarperCollmPebishers “Copyrighted MxierialRICK RIOR OAM
motorcade, but [did my best to imagine one,
See, some demigads.can actually corral the Mist. They
can make people see whar they wane them te see. | wasnt
very good arin bur ir-was worth a shot. Presidencial visits
are common enough, with the United Nations in town and
all, 20 | Figuted the cop might buy a.
Apparently be did, He glanced coward my imaginary
Hine of limos. made a dixgusted fice, and said something
inte his twoeway radio. With the wax in my eark | couldi’t
hear whar, bur all che other cops in she square starved hend-
ing the crowd teward che tile streets.
Uniorrunarely, the celedon hard reached center stage.
We were scilll Fifty feet away when she grabbed the mike
and tapped it, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM echoed rhrough
the streets.
“Grower,” [ yelled, “you'd beter stare playing that lye.”
If bee responded, E didn't hear it, | gpringed for the srage.
The workers were too busy anguing with the caps to ay
stopping me. | bounded up che steps, pulled my pen from
my pocket, and uncapped ir, My sword, Riptide, sprang
ine existence, though | wasn't sure it would help me.
Apalla wouldn't be happy with me if 1 decapirared his
backup simger.
I was ewenty Feet from the celedon when a lot of things
happened ar once,
8 HarperCollins Coprrighted MaterialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
The palden singer belted out a note sa powerhal | could
hear it through the wax plugs. Her voice was heantbreak-
ingly sad. Filled wish longing. Even muffled through she
wan. it made me vant to break down and ery—which is
what several thousand people around Times Square did.
Can stopped, Police and courte fell to their knees, weep-
ing, hugpiing each orher in comsplation,
Then | became aware of a differens sound—Grover,
frantically strumming bis lyre. | couldevt exactly hear it,
bur [could feel rhe cremor of magic rippling through dhe
ain shaking the stage under my feet. Thanks co the cenpa-
thy link, | caughe Flashes of Grover's thoughts, He was
singing about walls, wring 1 summon a box around the
celedon.
The good news: Insert of worked, A brick wall erupsed
from the stage between me and the celedon, knocking, over
the mike stand and interrupting her song. The bad news
By the time | figured our what was going on, | couldn't
stop my momentum. | ran straight into the wall, whieh
wasnt morcared, so | promptly collapsed on top of dhe cel-
eden along with about a thousand bricks,
My eyes warered. My nase Febt broken. Before I could
regain my bearings. the celedon scrugghed our of the pile of
bricks and pushed me off She raised her arms in triumph
as if the whede thing had been a planned sunt,
@ HurpeColkmPaiiabers ‘Coprrighted MaicrialRICK RIOROAM
She sang, “Ta-daaaaah!”
She was no longer amplified. but her voice carried. The
mortals ssopped sobbing and rose to sheie feet, clapping
and cheering for the celedon,
“Grower!” I yelled, nor sure if he could hear me, “Play
something elect”
[picked up my sword amd suruggled to my feet, | rackled
the golden lady, bur it was like tackling a Lanppost, She
ignoced me and Launched into song.
As | wrestled her, crying co pull ber of balance, the gem-
perature onstage began to rise. The ocledon’s lyrics: were
in Ancient Greek, but | caught a few of the words Apalle,
sunlight, golden Fire. It was some kind of ode no che pod.
‘Her metal ekin grew hor. | smelled something burning and
realized in was my shirt,
[ stunbled away from her. my clothes smoldering. The
wax had meled our of my ears so | could hear her somg
clearly. All around Tinses Square, people started dropping
fron the heat.
Over at the barricades, Grover played wiklly on the lyre,
but he was too anxious to focus. Random bricks fell from
the sky. Gne of the monitor speakers om stage morphed
ime a chicken, A place of enchiladas appeared at che cel-
edon's feet.
@ HarprColimPebiabers Coprrighord MairrialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
“Nor belpfull” fl shouted through the pain of the rising
heat, “Sing abour cages! Oh gape!”
The air fele like a blast fumace. Ifthe celedon kepr ehis
up. Mideawen would burst inte Hanes. I couldin’t afford to
play nice anymore. As the celedom started her next verse, |
lunged at her vith ny sword.
She lurched away with surprising speed. The tip of my
bade mlseed her fee by an inch, I'd managed co stop ber
Singing, ard she was not happy abour it. She glored ar me
with outrage, then Focused on my bade, Fear flickered
across her metallic face. Mest magical beings knew enough
to respect Celestial bronze. since it could vaporize them om
conTaCt,
“Saucrender and | won't hurt you.” I said. “We just want
toke you back oo Apollo.”
She spread her arms. | was afraid she was going to sing
again, bur insgead the celedon changed form. Her arms
grew neo golden feathery wings. Her face changated, grow-
ing a beak. Her body shrank wail | was staring at a plump
metal bind abour the size of a quail, Before | could react,
the celedon launched lberselfin the air and flew snrarght for
the top of the nearest building.
Grower smbled anne the sage next po me. All acres
Times Square, the mortals who had collapsed from the
WF
8 HaperCollmPsiaken Comrrigheed MaterialRICK RIGROAM
heat were starting to recover. The pavensent atill seamed.
Police starred shouring orders, making a serious effort now
to clear the area, Nobody paid us any agenion,
Iwatebed the golden bird spiral up-uatil she disappeared
over the highest billboard om che Times Tower, You've
probably seen the buikding in pictures: che tall skinny one
that’s stacked with glowing advertisements and Jurnbo-
TOT SOREN,
To be completely honest, | didn’t feel eo great. | had bor
wax melting out of my ears, I'd been chasbrailed medium
fare. My face felt like at had just been ranimed into a brick
wall... because it had, | had the coppery caste of blood
in my mouth, and | was really starting wo han music, And
quails.
Tuned co ‘Grover, "Did you know she could morph
into a band
“Uh, yeah... Bur I kind of forges,”
“Grear.” U nudged the enchilada place ae my foot. “Coukd
you try te summon something more helpful next time?”
“Sorys” he murmured, “I get hungry when | get mer-
vous. Se whae de we de mows”
I stared up at the top of the Times Tower. “The goklen
girl wins sound ome. Three for posed pvvo.”
se *
S HurprCollimPsiviabers _ Coprrigherd MaterialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
Youre probably wondering why | did) put more wax
in my ears. For one thing. | didn't have any. For another
thing, wax meling car of my ears hurts. And maybe part
of me was thinking: Hey, I'm a demiged. This time I'm
prepared. [ can face the music, liseralky,
Grover aseured me he bad the lyre figured out, No more
enchiladas or bricks falling from the sky, | just had to find
the celedon, carch her by surprise, and distract ber by...
well, | hadn't Figured oue that part yee.
We rook the elevator ro the top floor and foand srairs
to the rook Po widhed | could fy. but thar wasn't one of
my powers, ard my pepanus friend Blackjack hadn't been
answering my calls for help lanely, (Me gers a line dis
tracted in che springtime when he's searching the skies for
cure lady pegasi}
Once we made it te the roof, the celedon waa easy to
find, She was in human form, standing ac the edge of dhe
building with her arms spread. serenading Tinses Square
with her own rendition of “New York, Mew York.”
I reallly hare char song. | don't know anybody wha's acru-
ally from New York whe doesn’t have chat song, but hearing
her sing it made me have ita whole bot more,
Anyway. dhe had her back to us, so we had an advantage.
Iwas cempted to sneak up behind ber and push ber off. but
i HarperColkm Publishers _ Coprrighted MaterialRICK RIQROAM
the was so arong [hadn't been able co budge ber before.
Besides. she'd probably jest curn inca a bird and _. Hom.
A bied,
An idea formed in my mind. Yes, | de ges ideas sorme-
times,
“Grower,” | said, “ean you use the lyre to suminor a bind-
cage? Like. really surong one, made from Celestial bronze?”
He pursed his lips. “I suppose, ber bids shoaldn': be
caged, Percy. They should be free! They should fly and—"
He looked ar the celedon. “Oh, you mean—"
“Yeah.”
“Til ery"
“Good,” | said, “Just walt for my cue. Dio you sallll have
that blindfold from Pin the Tail on the Human?”
He handed me the strip of cloth, | shrank my sword ro
ballpednt-pen form and dipped itin the pocket af my jeans.
T'dineed both hands free for this. | crept up on the celedon,
who was now belting cue the Final chorus,
Even though she was facing the other way. ber music
filled me with the ugge to dance (which, believe me, you
never wand to cee). | forced myself to keep going, bar fighs-
ing her magic was like pushing my way through a row of
heavy drapes.
My plan was simple: Gag the oeledon. She woald cura
@ HarpeCollimPablabers Copraighted MaterialPERCY JACKSON AMD THE SINGER OF APOLLO
back inte a bird and tey to escape. | would grab her and
shewe her into a biedcage. What could go varong?
Ohm chee base line of “New York, New York,” [ jumped om
her back, locking my legs around her waist and yanking
the blindfold across her mouth like a house's bridle,
He grand finale was cut dhort with a “New Yor—urlf™
“Grover, now!” | yelled,
The celedon stumbled forward, | had a diezying view
of the chaos below in Times Square—oaps trying to clear
the crowd, lines of nowrists doing imprompr bigh-kick
routines like the Radio City Rocketes. The electronic bill-
boards down the side of the Times Tower looked likea very
steep, paychedelic warcrslide, with moching bac hard pave-
ment at the borcam.
The celedon staggered backward, flailing ancl maum-
thing through the gag.
Grover desperately sirummed his lyre. The strings sent
powerful magic vibrations through the air, bur Grover's
voice quivered with uncertainty.
“Lm, binds!” be warbled, “La, I, la! Blrds in cages! Very
strong capes! Birds!”
He wasn't going eo win any Grammys with ghose lyr-
ics, and F was loging my grip. The celodom was serong. Fd
ridden a Minotaur before, and ihe goklen dy was at least
@HupeColimPababers Copraighted MaterialRICK RIORDAN
that hard to held on ta.
The celedon spun arqund. teying to throw me. She
chimped ber hands around my forearms and squeezed.
Pain shot up ce my shoulders.
1 yelled. “Grover. barry?” But with my teeth clenched.
the words came out more like. “Gre—huh.”
“Birds in capes!” Grover strummed another chord, “La,
la, ba, cagest™
Amazingly, a birdcage shimmered into being at the edge
of the roof. I was too busy getting costed around to have
a good look, but Grover scemed no have done a good jobs,
The cage was just large enough for a parros, or a far quail,
ane the bars ghewed faintly... Celestial bronze,
Mow if | coal juse get the eeledon inte bird form.
Unforcunavely, she wasn't cooperating. She spun (hard,
breaking my grip and shoving me over the side of the
building.
Laried nor to panic. Sadly. dhis wase'e the first time Pd
been chrewn off a skyscraper,
Vd like to cell you thar | did some coal acrobatic mowe,
grabbed che edge of a billboard, and vaulted back up to che
rol ina perkecd triple flip.
Nope. As | bounced off the fire Jumborron screen, a
metal strut somehow snagged my belt and stopped me
22
1B HarperColhnPebliahers Copyrighted MusreislPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
from falling. lt alse gave me the ubimate wedgie of all
dime, Then, as if thar wasn't bad enough, ny monencum
spun me upside down and [ peeled right car of my parce.
I plummeted headfirst toward Times Square, grabbing
wildly for anything to slow me down. Luckily the top of
the newt billboard had a rump across it, maylse for extremely
brave maintenance workers oo larch their harnesses ona,
I managed to catch it and flipped righs side up. My ans
were nearly yanked out of their sackers. but somehow |
kept my grip. And char’s how fended up hanging from a
billboard over Times Square withour my pants.
To answer your next question; bowers, Main blue boxers,
No smiley faces. No hearts,
Laugh all you want. They're more combortable than
briefs.
The celedon smiled at me from the top of the real, about
owenty feet above, Just below her, my jeans hung from the
metal strut. bowing in the wind like they were waving me
goodbye, [| couldnt see Grover. His music had sroppsed.
My grip weakened, The pavement was maybe seven hun-
dred feet down, which would make for a very long scream
as | fell to my death. The glowing sereen of dhe Jumbotron
vead slowly cooking my stomach,
As I was dangling there, the celedon began a special
@ HicperColnPebiabens Cogprighted MaterialRICK RIORDAN
serenade just for me. She suing abour leteing po. laying
down my troubles, resting by the banks ofa river | don't
remember che exact lyrics, bur you get the idea,
Ie was all | could doco hold on. 1 didn’s wane oo drop,
but the celedon's masic washed over me, dismantling my
tesolve. | imagined char | would float down safely. | would
land on the banks ofa lazy river, where | could have a nice
relaxing picnic with my girlfriend,
Annabeth.
| remembered the time I'd saved Anmabeth from the
Sirens in the Sea of Monsters, I'd held her while she cried
and serugeled, oryiing co swim oo her death becanse she
thoughe she would reach some beautiful promised land,
Now | imagined she was holding me back. | could hear
whar she'd say: J75 ar eriot, Seareeea! Briciv! Yore'ee gor ne rick
ber back or yaw ll dtc, Amd if'yow die, U1 newer forgive pow!
That broke the celedon’s spell, Annabeth’s anger was
way searier than most monsters. but dort tell her 1 said
that.
| looked up ar my jeans, dangling uselessly above, My
sword was in pen form in the pocket. where it did me no
good. Grower had started to sing about birds again, ue it
wasnt helping. Apparently the celedon only nurned inno
bird form when she was ssancled,
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SS hirprColbaPebioben Coprrighted MaterialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
‘Wait...
Chit of desperation, | formed Scupid Plan Versson 2.0,
“Hey! called up. “You really are amazing, Miss
Celedon! Before | die, can 1 have your autograph?”
The celedan haleed midsong. She looked surprised, then
smiled with pleasure.
“Grover!” | called. “Come over here!”
The byre music stopped. Grower's head poked over the
side. “Oh. Perey... 1—I'm sorry—*
“sokay!” | ked a smile, using our empathy link te tell
him how | really felt. 1 couldn’s send compere thoughts,
ba [ aried co get the general point across: He needed to be
reaily. He needed to be quick. | hoped he was.a good caich,
“De pou havea pen and paper” [adked hin. “] want to
get this body's aacograph before | die
Grover blinked, “Uh... jeez. No, Bur isn't there a pen
in the pocket of your jeans?”
Beet. Satyr. Ever, He orally por the plan.
“Youre right!” | pared up ac the celedon impboringly,
“Please? Lase request? Coukd you just fish the pen our of my
jeans and sign chem? Then E can die happy.”
Golden statues can't bluish, but the celedon looked
extremely Flactered, She reached down, retrieved my jeans,
and pulled our dhe pen,
8 Harper Collen Febinkes Ceorrigherd MaserislRICK RIORDAN
| caught my breath. I'd never seen Rapaide in the banal
of a monster before. If ghis went wrong, if she realized it
wasa trick, she could kill Grower, Celestial bronze blades
work just fine on sutyrs,
She examined the pen like she'd never used one before.
“You have to dake the cap off” 1 said helpfully, My fin-
gers were beginning co slip.
She laid the jeans on the ledge. next to the birdcage. She
uncapped the pen and Riptide sprang to life.
IFT hadn't beer abour to die, it woukd’ve been the fucimi-
eat thing I'd ever scen, You know those gag cans of candy
with the cailed-up toy snake inside?
lt was like waeching somebody open ane of those, except
replace the toy snake with a three-foot-long blade,
The Celestial sword shor vo full lengrh and the celedon
thrust it away, leaping backward with a notvery-musical
shrick, She turned into a bird, bur Grover was ready, He
dropped Apollos lyre and caughe the far golden quail in
borh hands,
Grower stuffed her in the cage and slammed the door
shut, The celedon went crazy, squawking and flapping,
but she didn’t have roam to tun back to human form,
ard in bird fomm—thank the pods—she didnt seem oo
have any magic in her voice,
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8 HirperCollwPebliabers Copyrighted MaberislPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
“Good job" | called up te Grover.
He looked sick. “I think | scratched Apollo's lyre. And |
just caged a bied. This is che worst birthday ever.”
“By the way,” | reminded him, “I'm about eo fall mo my
death bene.”
“ARM Grover snatched up che lyre and played a quick
tune, Now thar he wasn't in danger and che monster was
caged, be seemed co have no problem using the lyre's magic,
‘Typical. He summoned a rope and threw it down to me.
Somehow he managed to pull me eo the top, where | eal-
lapsed,
Below us, Times Square was still in complete chaos,
‘Tourists wandered around in a daze, The cops were
breaking up the last of the high-kick dance routines, A
few cars were on fire, and the outdoor stage had been
reduced co a pile of kindling, bricks, and broken sound
equipment.
Across the Hudson River, the sum was going down. All!
wanted to do was He there on the roof ansl enjoy the feeling
of nor being dead. But our job wasn't dane yer,
“We've gor to get the celedon back to Apollo,” | said.
“Yeah.” Grover agreed. “But, ah... maybe part your
panesom Firs?”
s HurperColkenFiblisbers Copyrighted MaterialRICK RIORDAN
Apollo was waiting for us in the lobby of dhe Empire
Seace Building, His three golden singers paced nervously
behind him,
When he srw us, he beightened—literally, A glowing
aura appeared around his head.
“Exedlent!” He rook the birdcage. “I'll pet Hephacsrns
wo fix her up, and this time [im nor taking any excuses
about expired warranties, My show stares in half an heal”
“You're weleome,” | said.
Apolle accepted the lyre from Grower. The god's expres-
son turned dangerously srormy, “You scranched in”
Grover whimpered, “Lord Apollo—"
“Ie was the only way to catch the celedon,” | interceded.
“Besides, ill buff ou. Ger Hephaestus co do it, He owes
you, righa
For a second, | cheaght Apollo might blast us bodh i
ashes, but finally he just grunted. “1 suppose youre right.
Well, good job, pou two! As your reward, pou're invited to
watch me perform on Mount Olymnpust”
Grover and | glanced ac-each other, Insulting a god was
dangerous, bur the last thing | waneed to do was hear more
avsic.
“Wife arene warkhys” | lied. “We'd lowe oo, really bur you
knew, we'd probably explode or something if we beard
B HurperColenPabktabers Cooyaighted hlaseeialPERCY JACKSON AND THE SINGER OF APOLLO
your godly music at full volumes
Apollo nodded thoughtfully. “You're right. le mighe
distract from my perfomance iF you exploded, How con-
siderare of you.” He grinned. “Well, I'm off, then. Happy
birthday, Perey!”
“Drs Grower's birthday.” | corrected, but Apollo amd his
singers had already disappeared ina flash of goklen light.
“So much for aday off” I said, curing back to Grover.
“Back to Prospect Park!” he suggested. “Juniper must be
wortted to death.”
“Yeah.” | agreed, “And I'm really hungry”
Grover nodded enthusiastically, “If we leave now, we can
pick up Juniper and reach Camp Half-Blood in tine for
the sing-along. They have sinsares!”
I winced. “No sing-along, please. Bur Pll go for the
simvares,”
“Deal!” Grover said,
Lelapped him on dhe choukber. “Come on. G-man. Your
blethday might cur out okay after alll.”
@ HurperColkePeblabers _ Ceprriphtrd MLarcrisl