The Sea of Monsters(24)

I said, “We have an idea to save the camp.”

Dead silence, but I could tell I’d gotten everybody’s interest, because the campfire flared bright yellow.

“Indeed,” Tantalus said blandly. “Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—”

“The Golden Fleece,” I said. “We know where it is.”

The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop me, I blurted out my dream about Grover and Polyphemus’s island. Annabeth stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincing coming from her.

“The Fleece can save the camp,” she concluded. “I’m certain of it.”

“Nonsense,” said Tantalus. “We don’t need saving.”

Everybody stared at him until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.

“Besides,” he added quickly, “the Sea of Monsters? That’s hardly an exact location. You wouldn’t even know where to look.”

“Yes, I would,” I said.

Annabeth leaned toward me and whispered, “You would?”

I nodded, because Annabeth had jogged something in my memory when she reminded me about our taxi drive with the Gray Sisters. At the time, the information they’d given me made no sense. But now …

“30, 31, 75, 12,” I said.

“Ooo-kay,” Tantalus said. “Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers.”

“They’re sailing coordinates,” I said. “Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies.”

Even Annabeth looked impressed. “30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. He’s right! The Gray Sisters gave us those coordinates. That’d be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!”

“Wait just a minute,” Tantalus said.

But the campers took up the chant. “We need a quest! We need a quest!”

The flames rose higher.

“It isn’t necessary!” Tantalus insisted.

“Fine!” Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. “You brats want me to assign a quest?”

“YES!”

“Very well,” he agreed. “I shall authorize a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying.”

My heart filled with excitement. I wasn’t going to let Tantalus scare me. This was what I needed to do. I was going to save Grover and the camp. Nothing would stop me.

“I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!” Tantalus announced. “And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champion is obvious.”

Tantalus looked at Annabeth and me as if he wanted to flay us alive. “The champion should be one who has earned the camp’s respect, who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. You shall lead this quest … Clarisse!”

The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering,

“CLARISSE! CLARISSE!”

Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chest swelled with pride. “I accept the quest!”

“Wait!” I shouted. “Grover is my friend. The dream came to me.”

“Sit down!” yelled one of the Ares campers. “You had your chance last summer!”

“Yeah, he just wants to be in the spotlight again!” another said.

Clarisse glared at me. “I accept the quest!” she repeated. “I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!”

The Ares campers cheered even louder. Annabeth protested, and the other Athena campers joined in. Everybody else started taking sides—shouting and arguing and throwing marshmallows. I thought it was going to turn into a full-fledged s’more war until Tantalus shouted, “Silence, you brats!”

His tone stunned even me.

“Sit down!” he ordered. “And I will tell you a ghost story.”

I didn’t know what he was up to, but we all moved reluctantly back to our seats. The evil aura radiating from Tantalus was as strong as any monster I’d ever faced.

“Once upon a time there was a mortal king who was beloved of the Gods!” Tantalus put his hand on his chest, and I got the feeling he was talking about himself.

“This king,” he said, “was even allowed to feast on Mount Olympus. But when he tried to take some ambrosia and nectar back to earth to figure out the recipe—just one little doggie bag, mind you—the gods punished him. They banned him from their halls forever! His own people mocked him! His children scolded him! And, oh yes, campers, he had horrible children. Children—just—like— you.”

He pointed a crooked finger at several people in the audience, including me.

“Do you know what he did to his ungrateful children?” Tantalus asked softly. “Do you know how he paid back the gods for their cruel punishment? He invited the Olympians to a feast at his palace, just to show there were no hard feelings. No one noticed that his children were missing. And when he served the gods dinner, my dear campers, can you guess what was in the stew?”

No one dared answer. The firelight glowed dark blue, reflecting evilly on Tantalus’s crooked face.