One fatal prophecy. Seven brave demigods. A quest to find – and close – the doors of death.
Annabeth felt as if someone had draped a cold washcloth across her neck. She heard that whispering laughter again, as if the presence had followed her from the ship.
She looked up at the Argo II. Its massive bronze hull glittered in the sunlight. Part of her wanted to kidnap Percy right now, climb on board and get out of here while they still could.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. She couldn’t risk losing Percy again.