Clarisse had been right. Camp was changing. Not physically, since everything looked the exact same ever since we left last summer, but you could feel it in the air. Everyone was on guard. Instead of volleyball, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons. Dryads were armed with bows and arrows as they patrolled the woods. The forest looked sick, the grass in the meadow a pale yellow, and the fire marks on the hill stood out. Even the Ares campers were quiet, and they loved bloodshed.

Everyone was silent. I mean, a couple of campers did double takes when they saw Tyson, but they didn't comment. The camp felt like a military school.

But Tyson didn't care. He was fascinated by everything he saw. "Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The stables for the pegasi," I said.

"Whasthat!"

Percy gave him a look. "Um...those are the toilets."

"Whasthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If your godly parent doesn't claim you, they put you in the Hermes cabin, the brown one over there—until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your mom or dad's group."

Tyson looked at Percy in awe. "So you and Lazarus share a cabin?"

"No, big guy," I said. "Percy lives in number three, and I live in number thirteen."

"So you don't live with friends?"

"Yeah," I said. "We're alone because we don't have any siblings." The truth was that Percy shouldn't have been born, and I was just a surprise.

We got to the Big House, where we found Chiron in his room, listening to his favorite 60s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. He was standing, so his horse half was on display.

Tyson froze when he saw him. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture.

Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"

Annabeth came out of nowhere and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not...leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a real father to her, considering her biological father didn't want her. But I figured that they reconciled or something.

"Hello, child. And Percy, Lazarus. You two have grown over the year! Lazarus especially."

I had a huge growth spurt, and I was now Percy's height, which was better than being a midget. "Yeah."

Percy swallowed. "Clarisse said you were...you were..."

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr. D had to punish someone."

"Besides himself, you mean," Percy growled.

"But this is crazy!" Annabeth cried. "Chiron, you could've have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree!"

"Nevertheless," Chiron sighed, "some in Olympus do not trust me now, under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Percy asked. Chiron's face darkened. He stuffed a dictionary into his saddlebag while Frank Sinatra was singing. Tyson whimpered, like he knew he was leaving. "Pony?"

Chiron sniffed. "My dear young Cyclops! I am a centaur."

"What happened to the tree, Chiron?" I asked.

Chiron shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's tree is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus."

"I knew it," I muttered.

Then we know who's responsible. Kro—"

"Do not invoke the titan lord's name, Percy. Especially not here, not now."

"But last summer he tried to cause a civil war on Olympus! This has to be his idea. He'd get Luke to do it, that traitor."

"Perhaps," Chiron said. "But I fear I am held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. The tree only has a few weeks of life left unless..."

"Unless what?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Chiron said. "A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock of the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago."

"What is it?" Percy asked. "We'll go find it!"

Chiron turned and placed a hand on Percy's shoulders while looking at him in the eye. "Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told your mother that I did not want you and Lazarus to come here at all this summer. It's much too dangerous. But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."

"Why?" Percy asked. "I can't just wait until the borders fail completely. Then the whole camp will be—"

"Overrun by monsters," Chiron said. "Yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life."

I guess Kronos and Luke were collaborating to take down the Olympians. It made sense, because there was no way Luke could take on Olympus by himself. He could also get the other Titans to help him. Kronos probably talked Luke into poisoning Thalia's tree.

Meanwhile, Annabeth was trying to not cry. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay with Percy, child," he told her. "Keep him and Lazarus safe. The prophecy—remember it!"

"I—I will."

"Is this the same prophecy that decides the fate of the world?" Percy asked.

There was no answer. "Right," he muttered. "Just checking."

"Chiron..." Annabeth said. "You told me the gods made you immortal as long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—"

"Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger," Chiron insisted. "Swear on the River Styx."

"I swear it upon the River Styx," Annabeth said. Thunder rumbled outside.

Chiron seemed to be at ease now. "Very well. Perhaps my name will be cleared and I shall return. Until then, I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It's possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved...one way or another."

Annabeth stifled a sob. Chiron patted her shoulder. "There, now, child. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director. We must hope...well, perhaps they won't destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear."

"Who is this Tantalus guy, anway?" Percy demanded. "Where does he get off taking your job?"

The conch horn blew. We've wasted a lot of time.

"Go," Chiron said. "You will meet him at the pavilion. I will contact Sally and let her know that you and Lazarus are safe. No doubt she'll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger. Do not think for a moment that the titan lord has forgotten you two!"

With that, he clopped out of the apartment, Tyson calling after him, "Pony! Don't go!"

I turned to Percy. "You forgot to tell him about your dream."

Percy sighed. "It's too late now."

I looked at Tyson and Annabeth. They were bawling. I wish that things would get better, but right now, this was one of the worst years of my life.

"Come on," I said. "We have to get to the pavilion."

The sun was setting as the campers came from their cabins. Annabeth told us that she'd talk to us later. Then she went off to join her siblings. There were a dozen boys and girls with gray eyes like Annabeth's. She wasn't the oldest, but she had been at camp for more summers than anyone. She had six beads on her camp necklace, showing six years.

The Ares cabin was next. They were led by Clarisse. She had one arm in a sling and a gash on her cheek, but she didn't look fazed. Someone—most likely a child of Hermes—had taped a piece of paper on her back that said, YOU MOO, GIRL! But nobody in her cabin bothered to tell her about it.

After the Ares kids came the Hephaestus cabin—six guys led by Charles Beckendorf, a big fifteen-year-old African American kid. His hands were the size of catchers' mitts and a face that was hard and squinty from being in the forges all day. He was nice, but nobody called him Charlie, Chuck, or Charles. We just called him Beckendorf. Rumor was that he could make anything.

The other cabins filed in: Aphrodite, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus. Naiads came from the canoe lake. Dryads melted out of the trees. From the meadow came a dozen satyrs. After them, the biggest cabin, which was the Hermes cabin. For a couple of years, they were led by Luke, but he betrayed us and tried to kill Percy.

They were now led by Travis and Connor Stoll. They weren't twins, which was rare. I think Travis is older. They were both tall, with mops of brown hair that hung in their eyes. They were orange CHB shirts untucked over baggy shorts, and they had elfish features that all Hermes' kids have: upturned eyebrows, sarcastic smiles, and a gleam in their eyes whenever they looked at someone—a gleam that made you check your pockets.

I think Hermes had them because of their last name, but Percy talked about it with the two of them, but they didn't get it. After they took a seat, Percy, Tyson and I walked into the middle of the pavilion. Heads turned, and a child of Apollo murmured, "Who invited that?"

Percy shot a glare in the direction of the table, but he didn't know who said it.

From the head table, a familiar voice drawled, "Well, well. If it isn't Peter Johnson and Lloyd Barnes. My millenium is complete."

Before Percy said anything he would regret, I said, "It's Percy Jackson and Lazarus Battle, sir."

Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. "Yes. Well, as you young people say these days: Whatever."

He was, as usual, wearing a leopard-patterned Hawaiian shirt, walking shorts, and tennis shoes with black socks. He looked like a tourist who spent too much time in the Las Vegas casinos. A nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skin off grapes and handing them to Mr. D.

Mr. D is Dionysus. After chasing after an off-limits nymph for the second time, Zeus appointed him director of Camp Half-Blood for a hundred years. Next to him, where Chiron usually stood in centaur form, was a very thin man in a threadbare orange jump suit. The number 0001 was over his pocket.

He had blue shadows under his eyes, dirty fingernails and badly cut gray hair. He stared at me. I stared back, and I could see anger, frustration and hunger in his eyes all at the same time.

"These boys," Dionysus told Tantalus, "you need to watch. The children of Poseidon and Typhon, you know."

"Ah!" the man said. "These ones."

His tone made it sound like they talked about us.

"I am Tantalus," the man said coldly. "On special assignment here until, well, my Lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you two, Perseus Jackson, Lazarus Battle, I do expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble."

"Trouble?" Percy asked.

Dionysus snapped his fingers. A newspaper appeared on the table. It was the front page of today's New York Post. Our yearbook pictures were on it. I couldn't read the headline, but I doubt it was anything good.

"Yes, trouble," Tantalus said with satisfaction. "The both of you caused plenty of it last summer."

"We were trying to fix things," I said. Tantalus said nothing. A satyr inched forward and set a plate of barbecue in front of him. Tantalus licked his lips. He looked at his goblet and said, "Root beer. Barq's special stock. 1967."

The glass filled itself with root beer. I wanted to know how he would know about something in the 1900's when he was still in the Underworld. Tantalus stretched out his hand hesitantly.

"Go on then, old fellow," Mr. D said, a sparkle in his eyes. It was a weird sight. "Perhaps now it will work."

Tantalus went for the glass, but it scooted away. A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops moved away. He growled and turned to the barbecue. He picked up a fork and tried to stab a piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew right into the brazier.

"Blast!" Tantalus muttered.

"Ah, well," Dionysus said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Perhaps a few more days. Believe me, old chap, working at this camp will be torture enough. I'm sure your old curse will fade eventually."

"Eventually," muttered Tantalus, staring at Dionysus' Diet Coke. "Do you have any idea how dry one's throat gets after three thousand years?"

"You're that spirit from the Fields of Punishment," Percy said. "The one who stands in the lake with the fruit tree hanging over you, but you can't eat or drink."

Tantalus sneered at him. "A real scholar, aren't you, boy?"

"You must've done something really bad when you were alive," Percy continued. "What was it?"

"He tried to feed his son to the Olympians," I said. "I bet you that even my father will say that was monstrous."

Tantalus' eyes narrowed.

"I'll be watching you two," he said. "I don't want any problems at my camp."

"Your camp already has problems...sir."

"Sit down, Johnson," Dionysus sighed. "Go sit at your table—the one where no one else ever wants to sit."

Percy didn't talk back.

"Let's go," I said.

"Come on, Tyson," Percy said.

"Oh, no," Tantalus said. "The monster stays here. We must decide what to do with it."

"Him," Percy corrected. "His name is Tyson."

Tantalus raised an eyebrow. "Tyson saved the camp," Percy insisted. "He pounded those two bulls. Otherwise they would've burned down this whole camp."

"Yes," Tantalus sighed, "and what a pity that would've been."

Dionysus snickered.

"Leave us," Tantalus ordered, "while we decide this creature's fate."

Tyson looked at us with fear in his eyes.

"We'll be right over there, big guy," Percy said. "Don't worry. We'll find you a good place to sleep tonight."

"You can sleep in my cabin," I added.

Tyson said, "I believe you. You are my friends."

I nodded and sat down at my table. A nymph brought me some pizza with olives on it. I took it and went up to the bronze brazier. I scraped some of it into the flames and sacrificed it to my father.

I sat back down and a satyr blew the conch horn. Everyone was silent once again.

"Yes, well," Tantalus said, "another fine meal! Or so I am told." He inched his hand toward his refilled dinner plate. It shot down the table as soon as his hand was within six inches of the plate.

"And here on my first day of authority," he continued, "I'd like to say that what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture, er, interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."

Tyson tried to scoot out of the limelight, but Tantalus pulled him back.

"And some new changes!" Tantalus gave us a crooked smile. "We are reinstituting the chariot races!"

Murmuring broke out at all of the tables.

"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."

"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," an Apollo kid called out.

"Yes, yes!" Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning! The first race will be held in three days time. We will release you from most of your camp activities to prepare your chariot and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for a month in which they win?"

There was no way he was serious. But everyone else seemed to believe it. Then someone stood up.

"But, sir!" Clarisse said. Some of the campers snickered when they saw the YOU MOO, GIRL! sign. "What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—"

"Ah, the hero of the day," Tantalus exclaimed. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"

I scoffed.

Clarisse said, "Um, I didn't—"

"And modest too." Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?"

"But the tree—"

"And now," Tantalus said, as a couple of Clarisse's cabin mates pulled her back into her seat, "before we proceed to the campfire and sing-along, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson, Lazarus Battle, and Annabeth Chase have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here." Tantalus waved his hand toward Tyson.

Murmuring spread across the campers. A lot of sideways looks were thrown at me, Percy and Annabeth.

"Now, of course," Tantalus continued, "Cyclopes have a reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normal circumstances, I would release this beast into the woods and have you hunt it down with torches and pointed sticks. But who knows? Perhaps this Cyclops is not as horrible as most of its brethren. Until it proves worthy of destruction, we need a place to keep it! I've thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous. Hermes' cabin, possibly?"

The Hermes table was silent. The Stolls looked down at the tablecloth.

"Come, now," Tantalus chided. "The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?"

I was about to stand up, but everybody gasped as a holographic trident appeared above Tyson's head.

There was a moment of rare silence. But now, no one had knelt.

Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"

I stayed silent as most of the camp laughed. Tyson didn't seem to notice, which was a good thing. He was lucky that he didn't know how cruel people can be.

"This is gonna be one fun summer," I muttered.