The Sea of Monsters

system started working—pulling us backward while Beckendorf pulled himself forward.
    Annabeth cursed and drew her knife. She hacked at the cables but they were too thick.
    “Can’t cut them!” she yelled.
    The Hephaestus chariot was now dangerously close, their horses about to trample us underfoot.
    “Switch with me!” I told Annabeth. “Take the reins!”
    “But—”
    “Trust me!”
    She pulled herself to the front and grabbed the reins. I turned, trying hard to keep my footing, and uncapped Riptide.
    I slashed down and the cables snapped like kite string. We lurched forward, but Beckendorf ’s driver just swung his chariot to our left and pulled up next to us. Beckendorf drew his sword. He slashed at Annabeth, and I parried the blade away.
    We were coming up on the last turn. We’d never make it. I needed to disable the Hephaestus chariot and get it out of the way, but I had to protect Annabeth, too. Just because Beckendorf was a nice guy didn’t mean he wouldn’t send us both to the infirmary if we let our guard down.
    We were neck and neck now, Clarisse coming up from behind, making up for lost time.
    “See ya, Percy!” Beckendorf yelled. “Here’s a little parting gift!”
    He threw a leather pouch into our chariot. It stuck to the floor immediately and began billowing green smoke.
    “Greek fire!” Annabeth yelled.
    I cursed. I’d heard stories about what Greek fire could do. I figured we had maybe ten seconds before it exploded.
    “Get rid of it!” Annabeth shouted, but I couldn’t. Hephaestus’s chariot was still alongside, waiting until the last second to make sure their little present blew up. Beckendorf was keeping me busy with his sword. If I let my guard down long enough to deal with the Greek fire, Annabeth would get sliced and we’d crash anyway. I tried to kick the leather pouch away with my foot, but I couldn’t. It was stuck fast.
    Then I remembered the watch.
    I didn’t know how it could help, but I managed to punch the stopwatch button. Instantly, the watch changed. It expanded, the metal rim spiraling outward like an old-fashioned camera shutter, a leather strap wrapping around my forearm until I was holding a round war shield four feet wide, the inside soft leather, the outside polished bronze engraved with designs I didn’t have time to examine.
    All I knew: Tyson had come through. I raised the shield, and Beckendorf ’s sword clanged against it. His blade shattered.
    “What?” he shouted. “How—”
    He didn’t have time to say more because I knocked him in the chest with my new shield and sent him flying out of his chariot, tumbling in the dirt.
    I was about use Riptide to slash at the driver when Annabeth yelled, “Percy!”
    The Greek fire was shooting sparks. I shoved the tip of my sword under the leather pouch and flipped it up like a spatula. The firebomb dislodged and flew into the Hephaestus chariot at the driver’s feet. He yelped.
    In a split second the driver made the right choice: he dove out of the chariot, which careened away and exploded in green flames. The metal horses seemed to short-circuit. They turned and dragged the burning wreckage back toward Clarisse and the Stoll brothers, who had to swerve to avoid it.
    Annabeth pulled the reins for the last turn. I held on, sure we would capsize, but somehow she brought us through and spurred the horses across the finish line. The crowd roared.
    Once the chariot stopped, our friends mobbed us. They started chanting our names, but Annabeth yelled over the noise: “Hold up! Listen! It wasn’t just us!”
    The crowd didn’t want to be quiet, but Annabeth made herself heard: “We couldn’t have done it without somebody else! We couldn’t have won this race or gotten the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to Tyson, Percy’s . . .”
    “Brother!” I said, loud enough for everybody to hear. “Tyson, my baby brother.”
    Tyson blushed. The crowd cheered. Annabeth planted a kiss on my cheek. The roaring got a lot louder after that. The entire Athena cabin lifted me and Annabeth and Tyson onto their shoulders and carried us toward the winner’s platform, where Chiron was waiting to bestow the laurel wreaths.

TWENTY

THE FLEECE WORKS ITS MAGIC TOO WELL
    That afternoon was one of the happiest I’d ever spent at camp, which maybe goes to show, you never know when your world is about to be rocked to pieces.
    Grover announced that he’d be able to spend the rest of the summer