A/N: If you haven't read them yet read The Tales of the Son of Poseidon and the Early Adventures first if you haven't read it then The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters

My Best Friend Shops for a Wedding Dress

My nightmare started like this.

I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.

Florida, I thought. I didn't have to been here before to know where I was at—one of the privileges of being the son of the sea god.

Then I heard hooves clattering against the pavement. I turned and saw my friend Grover running for his life.

Yeah, I said hooves.

Grover is a satyr. From the waist up, he looks like a typical gangly teenager between fourteen to fifteen years old with a peach-fuzz goatee and a bad case of acne. He walks without his pants on (which I don't recommend), you'd never know there was anything unhuman about him. Baggy jeans and fake feet hide the fact that he's got furry hindquarters and hooves.

Grover had been my friend since I was seven years old, six years ago. Actually, he was more than that. He'd been like a brother to me. He'd gone on this adventure with me and a girl I also knew since I was seven named Annabeth to save the world, but I hadn't seen him since last independence day, when he set off alone on a dangerous quest—a quest no satyr had ever returned from.

Anyway, in my dream, Grover was hauling goat tail, holding his human shoes in his hands the way he does when he needs to move fast. He clopped past the little tourist shops and surfboard rental places. The wind bent the palm trees almost to the ground.

If I didn't know better, I would of said my dad—Poseidon: the Greek god of the sea—has been stirring up a hurricane in anger. But the terrified look on Grover's face says otherwise. Something was chasing him, and my guess is that it was right behind him. He must've just come from the beach. Wet sand was caked in his fur. He'd escaped from somewhere. He was trying to get away from… something.

A bone rattling growl cut through the storm. Behind Grover, at the far end of the block, a shadowy figure loomed. It swatted aside a street lamp, which burst in a shower of sparks.

Grover stumbled, whimpering in fear. He muttered to himself, Have to get away. Have to warn them!

I couldn't see what was chasing him, but I could hear it muttering and cursing. The ground shook as it got closer. Grover dashed around a street corner and faltered. He'd run into a dead-end courtyard full of shops. No time to back up. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm. The sign above the darkened display window read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL BOUTIQUE.

Grover dashed inside. He dove behind a rack of wedding dresses.

The monster's shadow passed in front of the shop. I could smell the thing—a sickening combination of wet sheep wool and rotten meat and that weird sour body odor only monsters have, like a skunk that's been living off Mexican food.

Grover trembled behind the wedding dresses. The monster's shadow passed on.

Silence except for the rain. Grover took a deep breath. Maybe the thing was gone.

Then lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded, and a monstrous voice bellowed: "MIIIIINE!"

…

I sat bolt upright, shivering in my bed.

There was no storm. No monster—well, at least not the monster from my dream.

Morning sunlight filtered through my bedroom window.

I thought I saw a shadow flickered across the glass—a humanlike shape. But then there was a knock on my bedroom door—my mom called: "Percy! You and Tyson are going to be late"—and the shadow at the window disappeared.

I hope I was imagining things, but as a demigod, you learn to expect what defies mortal logic.

"Come on, dear," my mother called again. "Last day of school. You should be excited! You've almost made it!"

"Coming!" I managed.

I felt under my pillow. My fingers closed reassuringly around the weapon I had the longest—a ballpoint pen with ancient Greek writing engraved on the side: Anaklusmos. Riptide. It may not seem much, but when I uncapped it, it extend into a three foot long sword.

I been mostly practicing my skills as a hero on our apartment roof top, using the Mist to make it look like I was just doing some teenage stuff.

On my bedside was another weapon of mine. Well, not necessarily a weapon. On the outside it looked like your average celestial bronze thermos, but inside was coated with fossilize sea shells that I can use to fire from a jet to a full blast of water straight out of the thermos. It was a gift from my father before I went on my first quest, and it came in handy a few times against the Furies, the Chimera, and a trap Hephaestus had originally set up for his cheating wife Aphrodite and his brother whom she cheats on him with Ares—a long story I rather not relive.

I put Anaklusmos on my nightstand next to my thermos and dragged myself out of bed.

I got dressed as quickly as I could. I tried not to think about my nightmare or that monster or the shadow at my window.

Have to get away. Have to warn them!

What had Grover meant?

I made a three-finger claw over my heart and pushed outward—an ancient gesture Grover once taught me to ward off evil. It mostly works with Nature Spirits, but it comes in handy for me once in a while.

Anyways, I can't let the dream ruin my day. Not yet at least.

Today was the last day of school. My mom was right, I should have been excited. I'd almost made it an entire year without getting expelled. No weird accidents, no fights in the classroom, no monsters attacking me on field trips and trying to kill me. Tomorrow, I'd be on my way to my favorite place in the world—Camp Half-Blood.

If I can just make it through today, I'm solid.

…

My mom made blue waffles and blue eggs for breakfast.

She's funny that way, celebrating special occasions with blue food. I think it's her way of saying anything was possible. Percy can pass the seventh grade. Waffles can be blue. Little miracles like that.

At the kitchen table was my adopted/half-brother Cyclops brother Tyson with his mopped brown hair and single calf-brown eye in the center of his head, wearing his new clothes that my mom bought him with our emergency fund when we adopted him. Although he was big enough to be consider as a teenager, he actually was seven years old, the same age I was when I found out I was a demigod.

I guess I should explained why I have a Cyclops living with us. See it's natural for Olympians to leave their Cyclops children homeless so they can learn how to work with their hands and hopefully find their way to the forges of Olympus, and Tyson's father—my dad: Poseidon—did just that rather reluctantly. Then one day Tyson was attack by a sphinx on the streets, Tyson prayed to Poseidon for help, and just as my dad led me to Thalia and Luke six years ago, he led Tyson to me.

When my mom found out about Tyson's situation, she decided to adopt Tyson as full member of the Jackson family so we can raise him and help guide him to the forges of Olympus. We even had to use the infinite cash on the Lotus Cash Card we save for only educational causes and emergencies to buy Tyson a whole new set of clothes since his old clothes were torn and worn out.

At first I wasn't too keen on having a Cyclopes for a brother. Nothing against Tyson, but I had bad history with Rogues Cyclops—Cyclopes who didn't find their way to the forges and instead starting hunting mortals and demigods for a living—in Brooklyn when I was seven, but as Tyson lived with us the big guy grew on me.

I sat down at my table and started eating with my brother while my mom washed dishes. She was dressed in her work uniform—a starry blue skirt and red-and-white striped blouse she wore to sell candy at Sweet on America. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

Waffles tasted great, but I guess I wasn't digging in like I usually did, because Tyson asked, "Are you okay brother?"

"Yeah… fine."

Tyson might have fallen for that, but not my mom. She always could tell when something was bothering me. She dried her hands and sat down across from me. "School, or…"

She didn't need to finish. I knew what she was asking.

"I think Grover's in trouble," I said, and I told her about my dream, having to explain a few things to Tyson. Thank gods Tyson was smart for his age, otherwise it would take longer.

My mom pursed her lips. "I wouldn't be too worried, dead," she said. "Grover is a big satyr now. If there were a problem, I'm sure we would've heard from… from camp…" Her shoulders tensed as she said the word camp.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I tell you what. This afternoon we'll celebrate the end of the school. I'll take you and Tyson to Rockerfeller Center—to that skateboard shop you like.

Oh, man, that was tempting. After swim meets, skateboarding was my second favorite activity. Thanks to the Lotus Cash Cards, we were able to afford a few more special stuff, but not always. But something in her voice bothered me.

"Wait a minute," I said. "I thought we were packing me up for camp tonight."

She twisted her dishrag. "Ah, dear, about that… I got a message from Chiron last night."

My heart sank. Chiron was the activities director at Camp Half-Blood. He wouldn't contact us unless something serious was going on. "What did he say?"

"He thinks… it might not be safe for you to come to camp yet. We might have to postpone."

I bit my lip. "Did something happen to Thalia's tree?"

Six years ago my friend who been like a sister to me, Thalia, gave her life to help Annabeth Grover another friend of ours Luke and me reach camp against the Furies and in return Thalia's father Zeus turned her into a pine tree we nicknamed Thalia's tree. Ever since then Thalia's tree produced a barrier that protected camp from monsters unless they were summoned.

"Percy… I'm sorry. I was hoping to talk to you about it this afternoon. I can't explain it all now. I'm not even sure Chiron can. Everything happened so suddenly."

My mind was reeling. Did something happened to Thalia's tree?

Before I could ask further, the kitchen clock chimed the half-hour.

My mom looked relieved. "Seven-thirty, dear. You and Tyson should go."

"Yay!" Tyson cheered.

"But—"

"Percy, we'll talk this afternoon. Go on to school you two."

"Come on, brother!"

That was the last thing I wanted to do, but my mom had this fragile look in her eyes—a kind of warning, like if I pushed her too hard she'd start to cry.

Tyson and I gathered our stuff, but I stopped in the doorway. "Mom, does my dream about Grover have anything to do with Thalia's tree?"

She wouldn't meet my eyes. "We'll talk this afternoon, dear. I'll explain… as much as I can."

Reluctantly, I told her good-bye. I jogged downstairs with Tyson to catch the Number Two train.

I didn't know it at the time, but my mom and I would never get to have our afternoon talk.

As I stepped outside, I glanced at the brownstone building across the street. Just for a second I saw a dark shape in the morning sunlight—a human silhouette against the brick wall, a shadow that belonged to no one.

Then it rippled and vanished. I been around my friend Annabeth who has a cap of invisibility, and every time she puts it on she vanishes just like that.

Could that be Annabeth? I thought.

I wasn't for sure, since last I heard Annabeth was in Virginia, but if she was here, then something must be going on.