"Welp, we're screwed." My best friend, Hugo, muttered as he held up his magical throwing knives.

"Wow, Hugh, way to stay positive!" I said sarcastically. I swung my Makhaira sword at the line of monsters rushing at me, and they disintegrated into dust.

Let me back up for a second; introduce myself, explain how we got into this pickle, blah blah blah. Hey, how's it going? I'm Sage. Sage Jackson. Last name sound familiar? Oh, yeah, that's cuz my father is Percy Jackson. You've probably heard of him. He's pretty famous. The most powerful demigod alive, Son of the Greek god Poseidon, fought in the Titan War, defeated Gaea, and all that jazz. I've heard the stories thousands of times. I've got them memorized word for word. He's also famous among the humans too, though for different reasons. The humans know him as a 3-time (and counting) Olympic gold medalist swimmer, and husband to Annabeth Jackson, one of the most successful and famous architects of her time. Yeah, my parents are pretty cool.

Most of you probably already know their story up to when they decided to settle down and go to college in New Rome. Well, long story, very short: they graduated, got married, and had me (yay), and my siblings (ugh). I have three younger siblings. My younger brother, Charlie, is thirteen, and my younger sister, Zoe, is nine. And then there's the baby. His name is Cast, and he's 10 months old. He was a surprise.

Oh, I almost forgot. I'm 14, and Hugo is 15. He's the son of Frank and Hazel Zhang. We both live in New Rome with our families, but-

"SAGE, LOOK OUT!" Hugo shouted.

I spun around to find a particularly ugly monster about to swing its even uglier paw at me. I slashed my sword through its torso, and it exploded into dust.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"No problem," Hugo replied. "I always got your back. Now, let's finish these guys off so we can go home. I'm STARVING."

Hugo and I stood back to back, turning the monsters into dust with every swing or throw of our weapons. When the last monster showered us with dust, and Hugo's knife returned to his hand, we started our walk home again.

Let me continue where I left off. We both live in New Rome with our families, but we visit Camp Half-Blood often. Sometimes, I stay for a whole summer, though most summers I'm at Camp Jupiter with my siblings. It's hard being anywhere outside of Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, or New Rome. Monsters easily sniff out Demigods and Legacies (children of demigods). Thankfully, my dad has been training my siblings (minus Cast) and me how to fight since we could hold a weapon, so we can fend for ourselves pretty well.

We greeted the guards at the entrance to the Caldecott Tunnel and went through to Camp Jupiter.

I took a deep breath. Nothing like the smell of home!

We wove through the crowds of demigods, fauns, and the like as we made our way towards New Rome. Eventually, Hugo and I separated, each heading to our own houses.

I walked through the door and immediately kicked my shoes off into the corner and audibly sighed as if I had just had the roughest day ever, which I kind of did, but that's beside the point.

"Hey, Sage. How was the concert?" My dad's voice called from the living room.

"It was awesome, Dad." I made my way there, tossing my jacket over one of the kitchen chairs.

Dad was sitting on the floor with Zoe and Cast, building towers out of large wooden blocks. He looked mostly the same as how all of you would remember him. Black hair, sea-green eyes, tan skin. Just older, with some stubble on his chin and jaw.

"Hugo and I were attacked by monsters again today," I said, flopping onto the couch. "More than usual, too."

Dad turned. "What? How many?"

I waved my hands in the air. "I dunno; twenty or thirty."

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "That's not good." He stood. "Zoe, watch Cast for a couple of minutes, okay? Sage and I need to talk to your mom."

"Okay, Daddy," Zoe nodded, her black curls bouncing. The only thing she inherited from my dad was her hair color. Her curls and grey eyes she got from my mom.

I was the spitting image of my dad. Black hair, sea-green eyes, tan skin. That's what every girl wants to hear, right? 'You look just like your dad!' Yeah, great. Charlie has blue eyes, like my grandma Sally, and straight, blonde hair, and my parents say Cast looks just like my mom. Curly, blonde hair (not that he has much yet), and grey eyes.

"Your mother is in her office," Dad said.

I followed him down the hall, and he knocked. A muffled reply came from the other side. He pushed the door open. "Annabeth?"

I stepped in behind him. Her office was a disaster, as usual. Papers were strewn across every surface, including the floor. There was a small circle where you could see the blue carpet (yes, of course it's blue) where my mother had been standing. There were blueprints, maps, and drawings on every wall except for one, which was where the massive chalkboard hung. My mom was standing in front of it, adding to her doodles of nonsense (to me, of course). She looked the same too. Curly. Blonde hair, stormy grey eyes. Just a little older.

My dad cleared his throat. "Annabeth."

She didn't respond. Dad sighed. "Hey, Wise Girl."

"Hm?" She said without looking back. She continued on the chalkboard. Every once in a while, she would look at a paper in her hand.

Dad smirked at me. "Watch this."

He shuffled closer to her, careful not to screw up her 'organized chaos.' When he positioned himself behind her on her right, he winked at me. Then, he pointed at the floor and said, "Look, a spider!"

My mom shrieked and jumped back into my dad's open arms. "WHERE?"

Dad burst out laughing as Mom frantically searched the floor. Then she realized it was a prank. She twisted out of his arms and swatted him on the chest. "Percy Jackson! That is not funny."

Dad made a show of wiping at his eyes. "Actually, it's very funny, my love."

Mom rolled her eyes and picked up the chunk of chalk that she dropped in her hysteria. "Did you need something? I'm trying to work."

Dad became serious. "Yeah, something's going on. Sage and Hugo were attacked by a larger-than-normal pack of monsters."

"What? Are you okay?" Mom turned to me, cupping her hands around my face and looking me over.

"Yeah, Mom. We're fine." I lightly pushed her hands away.

Mom frowned, but she let me go. "How many were there?"

"Twenty or thirty. Give or take a few ugly faces."

"Sage," Dad warned.

"What? I'm just saying, they weren't exactly winning any beauty pageants."

Mom exchanged a look with Dad. It was one of those looks. The kind that meant they were having an entire conversation without saying a single word. Honestly, it was creepy. Useful, probably, when you've been fighting monsters together for years, but still creepy.

"What?" I asked.

Mom walked over to her desk and began shuffling through a pile of papers. "How long has this been happening?"

"The monsters? A while, I guess, but I told you guys that. Why?"

"Have you noticed anything unusual lately? Anything different about the monsters?"

"Well, let's see. They were uglier than usual, smelled like rotten eggs, and one of them tried to eat Hugo's head."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "And Hugo is okay?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately, his ego took a little damage when I saved him."

"Hey, I heard that!" Dad called.

I blinked. "You heard what?"

"Your thoughts. You practically shouted that one."

I groaned. "Oh, come on! You're not supposed to use your sea-god mind-reading thing on me!"

"That's not a thing, honey," Mom said absently, still looking through her papers.

"Then how did he-"

"Because you have the exact same expression he does when he's about to insult someone," she interrupted. "It's honestly a little disturbing."

"Wow. Thanks, Mom. Love you too."

She finally found the paper she was looking for and spread it across the desk. It looked like a map of the United States, covered in red markings. Some were clustered around the West Coast, others near the East Coast, and a few were scattered throughout the middle.

I leaned over her shoulder. "What's that?"

"Reports," she said. "From Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, and a few other places. Increased monster activity. Unusual monster behavior. Sightings in areas that haven't had monster problems in decades."

Dad folded his arms. "And now they're swarming our kids."

"Okay, first of all," I said, holding up a finger, "I'm fourteen. I'm not a little kid."

Dad gave me a look.

I lowered my finger. "Second of all, that sounds bad."

Mom nodded. "It is."

She tapped one of the red markings on the map. "Three days ago, a group of campers at Half-Blood was attacked by a pack of hellhounds. Yesterday, a patrol near the Little Tiber reported seeing monsters traveling in groups of twenty or more. And this morning, we received a message from a contact in the mortal world about strange sightings near several major cities."

"Okay," I said slowly. "But monsters travel in packs all the time, right? That's not exactly new."

"Not like this," Mom replied. "These groups are unusually large, and they're all moving in the same direction."

"Which direction?"

She hesitated.

Dad stepped closer to the map. "East."

I stared at him. "East?"

"Toward New Rome," he said.

-TO BE CONTINUED-

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then I laughed.

Not because it was funny. It was just that sometimes, when your life gets so ridiculous that you can't even begin to process it, laughter is the only reasonable response.

"Okay. Great. Awesome. So, the monsters are having a convention, and we're the main attraction. Fantastic. Do we at least get free T-shirts?"

Neither of my parents laughed.

Oh.

They were really worried.

Mom leaned against the desk, rubbing her forehead. "There's something else."

Of course there was.

"Let me guess," I said. "The monsters have formed a union and are demanding better working conditions?"

"Sage."

"Right. Sorry. Serious face."

Dad pointed at the map. "The reports aren't just coming from places near New Rome. They're coming from everywhere. And there's a pattern."

Mom took a piece of chalk and walked to her board. She erased a section of her calculations (I just about fainted; she never does that for no reason. This must be really serious) and began drawing a series of lines connecting different locations. I watched as the lines stretched across the board, intersecting at several points before converging on one final location.

New Rome.

My stomach tightened.

"Why are they coming here?" I asked.

"We don't know," Mom said. "But whatever is drawing them here, it's powerful enough to override their natural instincts. Some of these monsters should never travel together. They're mortal enemies."

Dad's expression darkened. "Something is bringing them together."

"Something?" I repeated. "As in a person? A monster? A particularly angry god?"

"Possibly," Mom said.

"Love that. Love all of those options."

A soft gurgle came from the hallway.

We all turned.

Cast was sitting in the doorway, clutching a wooden block in one chubby fist. Zoe stood behind him, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"He crawled away," she announced. "And then he wouldn't let me pick him up."

Dad's face immediately softened. "Hey, buddy."

He scooped Cast into his arms, and my baby brother promptly grabbed a fistful of his shirt and attempted to eat it.

For a moment, everything felt normal again.

Then Cast stopped chewing.

His little grey eyes shifted toward the window.

He went completely still.

I frowned. "Cast?"

He slowly lifted one tiny hand and pointed outside.

At first, I didn't see anything unusual. Just the familiar streets of New Rome, the golden glow of the streetlamps, and a few people walking home.

Then the streetlamps went out.

One by one.

Starting at the far end of the street, the darkness crept toward our house.

Dad moved Cast into Mom's arms. "Annabeth, take the kids upstairs."

Mom didn't argue. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the door.

"Wait," I said. "What about-"

A sound cut me off.

Three sharp knocks echoed through the house.

Not from the front door.

From the window.

We all froze.

We were on the second floor.

Dad drew Riptide from his pocket. The pen expanded into a bronze sword, and his entire expression changed. Gone was the teasing father who had spent the last ten minutes embarrassing my mother. In his place stood Percy Jackson, the hero who had fought Titans and Giants and lived to tell the tale. Percy Jackson, son of the sea god, Poseidon. Percy Jackson, the most powerful demigod alive.

I had never seen my father like this. No wonder my mom married him.

Mom gave Cast to Zoe and pulled a dagger from the drawer of her desk.

I reached for my Makhaira.

Another three knocks.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dad moved toward the window, holding his sword at the ready.

"Dad," I whispered. "Don't."

He paused.

Because I had seen something.

On the other side of the glass, barely visible in the darkness, was a hand.

A human hand.

Its fingers were pressed flat against the window.

And written across the palm, in thick black letters, were three words.

GIVE US SAGE.

My blood turned to ice.

Mom pulled me behind her. "Percy."

"I see it."

The hand slowly curled into a fist.

Then the window shattered.

Dad lunged forward, but there was nothing on the other side. No person. No monster. Just the cold night air and a single black feather drifting into the room.

It landed on the floor at my feet.

I stared at it.

Something about that feather felt wrong. Not monster-wrong. Not god-wrong.

Something older.

Something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Mom crouched beside it, her face pale. "Oh, gods."

Dad looked at her. "Annabeth?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out an old, battered book. Its cover was cracked, its pages yellowed with age. She flipped through it frantically until she found what she was looking for.

Then she turned the book toward us.

There was a drawing on the page.

A black feather.

And beneath it, a symbol I had never seen before: a circle split down the middle by a jagged line.

Underneath the symbol was a single sentence.

Mom read it aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.

"When the old blood is called, the sea-born child shall be claimed."

I stared at her.

"The sea-born child?" I repeated. "Okay, technically, that's Dad. I'm just his kid. I don't even have a driver's permit yet."

Nobody laughed.

Dad was staring at the page as if it had just reached out and punched him.

"Where did you get that book?" he asked.

Mom swallowed. "From Chiron. Years ago. He told me never to open it unless the symbol appeared."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Because I thought it was a myth."

Dad's grip tightened around Riptide.

Outside, somewhere in the darkness, something screamed.

Not a monster's roar.

A human scream.

Then another.

And another.

Mom rushed to the window. Across the street, shadows were spilling between the houses. Huge shapes moved through the darkness, their eyes glowing like embers. People were running. Somewhere in the distance, an alarm began to sound.

New Rome was under attack.

"Percy, Charlie!" She gasped. He had gone out with his friends a little while before I left with Hugo. I had no idea where he was now.

Dad stepped in front of us, his sword gleaming in the dim light. He put his hand on Mom's cheek. "We'll find him. He'll be fine."

Then he turned to me.

"Sage," he said, his voice low and deadly serious. "I need you to listen to me. Whatever happens, you stay with your mother and your siblings. Do you understand?"

I nodded, even though my heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear him.

"Percy," Mom said, looking down at the book. "There's more."

She turned the page.

Her face drained of color.

"What?" Dad demanded.

Mom looked at me.

And for the first time in my entire life, I saw genuine fear in my mother's eyes.

"The prophecy doesn't say the child will be claimed," she whispered.

She turned the book so we could see the final line.

The ink looked fresh.

As if someone had written it moments ago.

The sea-born child shall be claimed, and the world shall drown in her wake.

Before I could say a word, every light in the house went out.

A voice spoke from the darkness, right behind me.

"Found you."

And something cold wrapped around my wrist.