Free The Titan's Curse by Rick Riordan Page A

me.”
    I couldn’t see what was wrong with him. He seemed to be struggling against some invisible curse, as though the fog were squeezing him to death.
    â€œWhy should I trust you?” Annabeth asked. Her voice was filled with hurt.
    â€œYou shouldn’t,” Luke said. “I’ve been terrible to you. But if you don’t help me, I’ll die.”
    Let him die, I wanted to scream. Luke had tried to kill us in cold blood too many times. He didn’t deserve anything from Annabeth.
    Then the darkness above Luke began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. Annabeth rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. She held it somehow—tons of rock. She kept it from collapsing on her and Luke just with her own strength. It was impossible. She shouldn’t have been able to do that.
    Luke rolled free, gasping. “Thanks,” he managed.
    â€œHelp me hold it,” Annabeth groaned.
    Luke caught his breath. His face was covered in grime and sweat. He rose unsteadily.
    â€œI knew I could count on you.” He began to walk away as the trembling blackness threatened to crush Annabeth.
    â€œHELP ME!” she pleaded.
    â€œOh, don’t worry,” Luke said. “Your help is on the way. It’s all part of the plan. In the meantime, try not to die.”
    The ceiling of darkness began to crumble again, pushing Annabeth against the ground.
    I sat bolt upright in bed, clawing at the sheets. There was no sound in my cabin except the gurgle of the saltwater spring. The clock on my nightstand read just after midnight.
    Only a dream, but I was sure of two things: Annabeth was in terrible danger. And Luke was responsible.

SIX

AN OLD DEAD FRIEND COMES TO VISIT
    The next morning after breakfast, I told Grover about my dream. We sat in the meadow watching the satyrs chase the wood nymphs through the snow. The nymphs had promised to kiss the satyrs if they got caught, but they hardly ever did. Usually the nymph would let the satyr get up a full head of steam, then she’d turn into a snow-covered tree and the poor satyr would slam into it headfirst and get a pile of snow dumped on him.
    When I told Grover my nightmare, he started twirling his finger in his shaggy leg fur.
    â€œA cave ceiling collapsed on her?” he asked.
    â€œYeah. What the heck does that mean?”
    Grover shook his head. “I don’t know. But after what Zoë dreamed—”
    â€œWhoa. What do you mean? Zoë had a dream like that?”
    â€œI . . . I don’t know, exactly. About three in the morning she came to the Big House and demanded to talk to Chiron. She looked really panicked.”
    â€œWait, how do you know this?”
    Grover blushed. “I was sort of camped outside the Artemis cabin.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œJust to be, you know, near them.”
    â€œYou’re a stalker with hooves.”
    â€œI am not! Anyway, I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing. She got real upset when Argus wouldn’t let her in. It was kind of a dangerous scene.”
    I tried to imagine that. Argus was the head of security for camp—a big blond dude with eyes all over his body. He rarely showed himself unless something serious was going on. I wouldn’t want to place bets on a fight between him and Zoë Nightshade.
    â€œWhat did she say?” I asked.
    Grover grimaced. “Well, she starts talking really old-fashioned when she gets upset, so it was kind of hard to understand. But something about Artemis being in trouble and needing the Hunters. And then she called Argus a boil-brained lout . . . I think that’s a bad thing. And then he called her—”
    â€œWhoa, wait. How could Artemis be in trouble?”
    â€œI . . . well, finally Chiron came out in his pajamas and his horse tail in curlers and—”
    â€œHe wears curlers in his