title: The Titan's Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 3)
author:  Rick Riordan 
description: Grade 6-9&ndash;In this installment, Riordan continues to enliven ancient mythology with wit, contemporary staging, and teenage heroics. Percy Jackson is now 14, a bit older and wiser, yet still entangled with the Fates. Friends, monsters, dysfunctional gods, and the romantic stirrings of all things natural and mythological are encountered. His good friend, if oft-time rival, Annabeth (daughter of Athena) is missing, as is Artemis, goddess of the hunt. Joined by best buddy Grover-the-goat-boy and an argumentative array of accomplices, Percy sets off to fulfill, and hopefully foil, the foreboding prophecy of the Oracle. Plagued by ominous dreams, thwarted by hideous monsters, and challenged by conflicting partnerships, the search party's success hinges on unlikely unity. The droll pitch is teen-perfect, as when Apollo heats up the scene by arriving in his fire-red Maserati, wearing jeans, a sleeveless T-shirt, and loafers. 'Wow,' Thalia muttered, 'Apollo is hot.' 'He's the sun god,' I said. 'That's not what I meant.' Intricate prophecies and relationships are neatly braided into the adventurous plot. Teachers will cheer for Percy Jackson and the Olympians as they inspire students to embrace Greek mythology and score the ultimate Herculean challenge: getting kids to read. All in all, a winner of Olympic proportions and a surefire read-aloud.&ndash;<I>Alison Follos, North Country School, Lake Placid, NY</I> <BR>Copyright &copy; Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
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  **THE TITAN'S CURSE**
  
  
  **Percy Jackson and the Olympians Book - 3**
  
  
  ## **Rick Riordan**
  
  
  
  
  
  ## **ONE**
  
  
  **MY RESCUE OPERATION GOES VERY WRONG**
  
  
  
  
  
  The Friday before winter break, my mom packed me an overnight bag and a few
  deadly weapons and took me to a new boarding school. We picked up my friends
  
  
  Annabeth and Thalia on the way.
  
  
  It was an eight-hour drive from New York to Bar Harbor, Maine. Sleet and snow
  pounded the highway. Annabeth, Thalia, and I hadn't seen each other in months,
  but
  
  
  between the blizzard and the thought of what we were about to do, we were too
  nervous to talk much. Except for my mom. She talks _more_ when she's nervous.
  By the time we finaly got to Westover Hal, it was getting dark, and she'd told
  Annabeth and Thalia every embarrassing baby story there was to tel about me.
  
  
  Thalia wiped the fog off the car window and peered outside. "Oh, yeah. This'l
  be fun."
  
  
  Westover Hal looked like an evil knight's castle. It was al black ston