A/N Hey guys I discovered that RR is making a 40 page crossover of PJO and KC. It will be released on May 7, 2013 in the back of The Serpents Shadow.(I don't know if its for all countries, but I know for certain it is coming in the U.S.) Don't panic if you already have a copy of The Serpents Shadow. It will be released as an audio book and ebook sometime in the summer. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTHING it is all Rick Riordan's


The Son of Sobek

The surface of the river churned with bubbles. The crocodile was gone, but standing in the marsh about twenty feet away was a teenage guy in jeans and a faded orange T-shirt that said CAMP something. I couldn't read the rest. He lookeda little older than me—maybe seventeen—with tousled blackhair and sea-green eyes. What really caught my attention was his sword—a straight double-edged blade glowing with faint bronze light. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised. For a second, Camper Boy just stared at me. He noted my khopesh and wand, and I got the feeling that he actually saw these things as they were. Normal mortals have trouble seeing magic. Their brains can't interpret it, so they might lookat my sword, for instance, and see a baseball bat or a walking stick. But this kid . . . he was different. I fgured he must be a magician. The only problem was, I'd met most of the magicians in the North American nomes, and I'd never seen this guy before. I'd also never seen a sword like that. Everything abouthim seemed . . . un-Egyptian. "The crocodile," I said, trying to keep my voice calm andeven. "Where did it go?"Camper Boy frowned. "You're welcome."

"What?"

"I stuck that croc in the rump." He mimicked the action with his sword. "That's why it vomited you up. So, you're welcome. What were you doing in there?"I'll admit I wasn't in the best mood. I smelled. I hurt. And, yeah, I was a little embarrassed: the mighty Carter Kane, head of Brooklyn House, had been disgorged from a croc's mouth like a giant hairball."I was resting," I snapped.

"What do you think I was doing? Now, who are you, and why are you fghting my monster?"

"Your monster?" The guy trudged toward me through the water. He didn't seem to have any trouble with the mud. "Look, man, I don't know who you are, but that crocodile has been terrorizing Long Island for weeks. I take that kind of personal,as this is my home turf. A few days ago, it ate one of our pegasi."

A jolt went up my spine like I'd backed into an electric fence.

"Did you say pegasi?" He waved the question aside. "Is it your monster or not?"

"I don't own it!" I growled. "I'm trying to stop it! Now, where—" "The croc headed that way." He pointed his sword to the south. "I would already be chasing it, but you surprised me." He sized me up, which was disconcerting since he was half a foot taller. I still couldn't read his T-shirt except for the word CAMP. Around his neck hung a leather strap with some colorful clay beads, like a kid's arts and crafts project. He wasn't carrying a magician's pack or a wand. Maybe he kept them inthe Duat? Or maybe he was just a delusional mortal who'd accidentally found a magic sword and thought he was a superhero. Ancient relics can really mess with your he shook his head. "I give up. Son of Ares? You've got to be a half-blood, but what happened to your sword? It'sall bent."

"It's a khopesh." My shock was rapidly turning to anger. "It's supposed to be curved." But I wasn't thinking about the sword. Camper Boy had just called me a half-blood? Maybe I hadn't heard him right. Maybe he meant something else. But my dad was African American. My mom was white. Half-blood wasn't a word I liked."Just get out of here," I said, gritting my teeth. "I've got a crocodile to catch.""Dude, I have a crocodile to catch," he insisted. "Last time you tried, it ate you. Remember?" My fingers tightened around my sword hilt. "I had every-thing under control. I was about to summon a fist—"For what happened next, I take full responsibility. I didn't mean it. Honestly. But I was angry. And as I may have mentioned, I'm not always good at channeling words of power. While I was in the crocodile's belly, I'd been preparing to summon the Fist of Horus, a giant glowing blue hand thatcan pulverize doors, walls, and pretty much anything else thatgets in your way. My plan had been to punch my way out of the monster. Gross, yes; but hopefully effective. I guess that spell was still in my head, ready to be triggered like a loaded gun. Facing Camper Boy, I was furious, not tomentioned dazed and confused; so when I meant to say theEnglish word fst, it came out in Ancient Egyptian instead: khefa. Such a simple hieroglyph:

(A/N the hieroglyphic is a closed fist to the side)

You wouldn't think it could cause so much trouble.


So how do you like it? Their is a RUMOR I repeat a RUMOR not a fact that he might do a bigger version (like a series) of it after a Norse mythology series. Also I am going to be soon uploading the Prologue of my first fanfiction so please when comes up critique and review it, I'm not much of a writer.

-Mrmngrl101