Below, on a lower passenger deck, the shadows pooled thick and heavy. The polished brass rails were cold, the air thick with the smell of seawater and machinery oil.

Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson moved quickly, their footsteps echoing off the metal grates, searching for a way off the cruise ship.

But beneath one of the tarps, something moved.

A tiny, trembling hand emerged. Then a face. A little girl, no older than eight, with tangled blonde hair and wide, frightened green eyes. She clutched a ratty stuffed dolphin to her chest.