“I uncapped the blade, flung open the door, and found myself face-to-face with a black pegasus.Whoa, boss! Its voice spoke in my mind as it clopped away from the sword blade. I don't wanna be a horse-ke-bob!”

“I guessed his name was Face of Horror. I wondered how long it had taken his mom to think of that. Bob? No. Sam? No. How about Face of Horror?”

“What was I thinking?" Chiron cried. " I can't let you get away without this."He pulled a pen from his coat pocket. It was an ordinary disposable ballpoint, black ink, removable cap. Probably thirty cents.Gee," I said. "Thanks."Percy, that's a gift from your father. I've kept it for years, not knowing you were who I was waiting for. But the profecy is clear to me now. You are the one.I remembered the feild trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, when I'd vaporized Mrs. Dodds. Chiron had thrown me a pen that turned into a sword. Could this be...?I took off the cap, and the pen grew longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather=wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. It was the first weapon that actually felt balanced in my hands.The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told me. "It's name is Anaklusmos."Riptide," I translated, surprised the Ancient Greek came so easily.Use it only for emergencies" Chiron said, "and only against monsters No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely, of course, but this sword wouldn't harm them in any case.”

“I concentrated hard and snapped my fingers. "You don't see the sword," I told the girl. "It's just a ballpoint pen." She blinked. "Um . . . no. It's a sword, weirdo.”

“Good luck, boss. Don't let'em turn you into horse meat! (Blackjack)”

“I turned and faced the Olympians."We need a shroud," I announced, my voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes.”

“Could I just use the loo?” I asked the nice officer.“No.” She closed the door in my face, As if I might rig an explosion in the toilet. Honestly.”