Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files

six inches from the rail when the horses reared up, whinnying and breathing flames. Phobos and Deimos appeared in the chariot, both of them now dressed in pitch-black battle armor. Phobos grinned, his red eyes glowing. Deimos’s scarred face looked even more horrible up close.
    “The hunt is on!” Phobos yelled. Clarisse stumbled back as he lashed the horses and charged the chariot straight toward me.
    Now, I’d like to tell you that I did something heroic, like stand up against a raging team of fire-breathing horses with only my sword. The truth is, I ran. I jumped over a trash bin and an exhibit fence, but there was no way I could outrun the chariot. It crashed through the fence right behind me, plowing down everything in its path.
    “Percy, look out!” Clarisse yelled, like I needed somebody to tell me that.
    I jumped and landed on a rock island in the middle of the otter exhibit. I willed a column of water out of the pond and doused the horses, temporarily extinguishing their flames and sending them into confusion. The otters weren’t happy with me. They chattered and barked, and I figured I’d better get off their island quick, before I had crazed sea mammals after me too.
    I ran as Phobos cursed and tried to get his horses under control. Clarisse took the opportunity to jump on Deimos’s back just as he was lifting his javelin. Both of them went tumbling out of the chariot as it lurched forward.
    I could hear Deimos and Clarisse starting to fight, sword on sword, but I didn’t have time to worry about it because Phobos was riding after me again. I sprinted toward the aquarium with the chariot right behind me.
    “Hey, Percy!” Phobos taunted. “I’ve got something for you!”
    I glanced back and saw the chariot melting, the horses turning to steel and folding into each other like clay figures being crumpled. The chariot refashioned itself into a black metal box with caterpillar treads, a turret, and a long gun barrel. A tank. I recognized it from this research report I’d had to do for history class. Phobos was grinning at me from the top of a World War II panzer.
    “Say cheese!” he said.
    I rolled to one side as the gun fired.
    KA-BOOOOM! A souvenir kiosk exploded, sending fuzzy animals and plastic cups and disposable cameras in every direction. As Phobos re-aimed his gun, I got to my feet and dived into the aquarium.
    I wanted to surround myself with water. That always increased my power. Besides, it was possible Phobos couldn’t fit the chariot inside the doorway. Of course, if he blasted through it, that wouldn’t help. . . .
    I ran through the rooms washed in weird blue light from the fish tank exhibits. Cuttlefish, clown fish, and eels all stared at me as I raced past. I could hear their little minds whispering, Son of the sea god! Son of the sea god! It’s great when you’re a celebrity to squids.
    I stopped at the back of the aquarium and listened. I heard nothing. And then . . . Vroom , Vroom . A different kind of engine.
    I watched in disbelief as Phobos came riding through the aquarium on a Harley-Davidson. I’d seen this motorcycle before: its black flame-decorated engine, its shotgun holsters, its leather seat that looked like human skin. This was the same motorcycle Ares had ridden when I’d first met him, but it had never occurred to me that it was just another form of his war chariot.
    “Hello, loser,” Phobos said, pulling a huge sword out of its sheath. “Time to be scared.”
    I raised my own sword, determined to face him, but then Phobos’s eyes glowed brighter, and I made the mistake of looking into them.
    Suddenly I was in a different place. I was at Camp Half-Blood, my favorite place in the world, and it was in flames. The woods were on fire. The cabins were smoking. The dining pavilion’s Greek columns had crumbled, and the Big House was a smoldering ruin. My friends were on their knees pleading with me. Annabeth, Grover, all the other campers.
    Save us, Percy! they wailed. Make the choice!
    I stood paralyzed. This was the moment I had always dreaded: the prophecy that was supposed to come about when I was sixteen. I would make a choice that would save or destroy Mount Olympus.
    Now the moment was here, and I had no idea what to do. The camp was burning. My friends looked at me, begging for help. My heart pounded. I couldn’t move. What if I did the wrong thing?
    Then I heard the voices of the aquarium fish: Son of the sea god! Wake!
    Suddenly I felt the