hand. I ask for the Great Prophecy."

 

I braced myself, but the mummy didn't move. Instead, Annabeth approached and

unclasped one of its necklaces. I’d never paid too much attention to its jewelry

before. I figured it was just hippie love beads and stuff. But when Annabeth

turned toward me, she was holding a leather pouch — like a Native American

medicine pouch on a cord braided with feathers. She opened the bag and took out

a roll of parchment no bigger than her pinky.

 

"No way," I said. "You mean all these years, I've been asking about this stupid

prophecy, and it's been right there around her neck?"

 

"The time wasn't right," Annabeth said. "Believe me, Percy, I read this when I

was ten years old, and I still have nightmares about it."

 

"Great," I said. "Can I read it now?"

 

"Downstairs at the war council," Annabeth said. "Not in front of . . . you

know."

 

I looked at the glassy eyes of the Oracle, and 1 decided not to argue. We headed

downstairs to join the others. I didn't know it then, but it would be the last

time I ever visited the attic.

 

* * *