Copyright © 2010 by Rick Riordan All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion Books, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion Books, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690. First Edition 13 5 7 9 10 86 4 2 V567-9638-5-10213 Printed in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data on file. ISBN 978-1-4231-4540-0 Visit www.hyperionbooksforchildren.com Table of Contents Happy Reading Also By Rick Riordan I Jason Ii Jason Iii Piper Iv Piper V Leo Vi Leo Vii Jason Viii Jason Ix Piper X Piper Xi Leo Xii Leo Xiii Jason Xiv Jason Xv Piper Xvi Piper Xvii Leo Xviii Leo Xix Jason Xx Jason Xxi Piper Xxii Piper Xxiii Leo Xxiv Leo Xxv Jason Xxvi Jason Xxvii Piper Xxviii Piper Xxix Leo Xxx Leo Xxxi Jason Xxxii Jason Xxxiii Piper Xxxiv Piper Xxxv Leo Xxxvi Leo Xxxvii Jason Xxxviii Jason Xxxix Piper Xll Piper Xli Leo Xlii Leo Xliii Jason Xliv Jason Xlv Piper Xlvi Piper Xlvii Leo Xlviii Leo Xlix Jason ll Jason Li Piper Lii Piper Liii Leo Liv Leo Lv Jason Lvi Jason Gods In The Lost Hero Coming Fall 2011 Praise For The Percy Jackson Series By Rick Riordan: Praise For The Kane Chronicles Book 1:The Red Pyramid By Rick Riordan: About The Author For Haley and Patrick, always the first to hear stories Without them, Camp Half-Blood would not exist. Also by Rick Riordan Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book One: The Lightning Thief Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book Two: The Sea of Monsters Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book Three: The Titan’s Curse Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book Four: The Battle of the Labyrinth Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book Five: The Last Olympian The Kane Chronicles, Book One: The Red Pyramid EVEN BEFORE HE GOT ELECTROCUTED, Jason was having a rotten day. He woke in the backseat of a school bus, not sure where he was, holding hands with a girl he didn’t know. That wasn’t necessarily the rotten part. The girl was cute, but he couldn’t figure out who she was or what he was doing there. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to think. A few dozen kids sprawled in the seats in front of him, listening to iPods, talking, or sleeping. They all looked around his age … fifteen? Sixteen? Okay, that was scary. He didn’t know his own age. The bus rumbled along a bumpy road. Out the windows, desert rolled by under a bright blue sky. Jason was pretty sure he didn’t live in the desert. He tried to think back … the last thing he remembered … The girl squeezed his hand. “Jason, you okay?” She wore faded jeans, hiking boots, and a fleece snowboarding jacket. Her chocolate brown hair was cut choppy and uneven, with thin strands braided down the sides. She wore no makeup like she was trying not to draw attention to herself, but it didn’t work. She was seriously pretty. Her eyes seemed to change color like a kaleidoscope—brown, blue, and green. Jason let go of her hand. “Um, I don’t—” In the front of the bus, a teacher shouted, “All right, cupcakes, listen up!” The guy was obviously a coach. His baseball cap was pulled low over his hair, so you could just see his beady eyes. He had a wispy goatee and a sour face, like he’d eaten something moldy. His buff arms and chest pushed against a bright orange polo shirt. His nylon workout pants and Nikes were spotless white. A whistle hung from his neck, and a megaphone was clipped to his belt. He would’ve looked pretty scary if he hadn’t been five feet zero. When he stood up in the aisle, one of the students called, “Stand up, Coach Hedge!” “I heard that!” The coach scanned the bus for the offender. Then his eyes fixed on Jason, and his scowl deepened. A jolt went down Jason’s spine. He was sure the coach knew he didn’t belong there. He was going to call Jason out, demand to know what he was doing on the bus—and Jason wouldn’t have a clue what to say. But Coach Hedge looked away and cleared his throat. “We’ll arrive in five minutes! Stay with your partner. Don’t lose your worksheet. And if any of you precious little cupcakes causes any trouble on this trip, I will personally send you back to campus the hard way.” He picked up a baseball bat and made like he was hitting a homer. Jason looked at the girl next to him. “Can he talk to us that way?” She shrugged. “Always does. This is the Wilderness School. ‘Where kids are the animals.’” She said it like it was a joke they’d shared before. “This is some kind of mistake,” Jason said. “I’m not supposed to be here.” The boy in front of him turned and laughed. “Yeah, right, Jason. We’ve all been framed! I didn’t run away six times. Piper didn’t steal a BMW.” The girl blushed. “I didn’t steal that car, Leo!” “Oh, I forgot, Piper. What was your story? You ‘talked’ the dealer into lending it to you?” He raised his eyebrows at Jason like, Can you believe her? Leo looked like a Latino Santa’s elf, with curly black hair, pointy ears, a cheerful, babyish face, and a mischievous smile that told you right away this guy should not be trusted around matches or sharp objects. His long, nimble fingers wouldn’t stop moving —drumming on the seat, sweeping his hair behind his ears, fiddling with the buttons of his army fatigue jacket. Either the kid was naturally hyper or he was hopped up on enough sugar and caffeine to give a heart attack to a water buffalo. “Anyway,” Leo said, “I hope you’ve got your worksheet, ’cause I used mine for spit wads days ago. Why are you looking at me like that? Somebody draw on my face again?” “I don’t know you,” Jason said. Leo gave him a crocodile grin. “Sure. I’m not your best friend. I’m his evil clone.” “Leo Valdez!” Coach Hedge yelled from the front. “Problem back there?”