The Last Olympian

"Er, Percy?" A

"Oh, right," I said. Being dyslexic is one mark of a demigod, but sometimes I really hate it. The more nervous I am, the worse my reading gets. "A half~blood of the eldest gods . . . shall reach sixteen against all odds . . ."

I hesitated, staring at the next lines. A cold feeling started m my fingers as if the paper was freezing.

"And see the world in endless sleep,

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."

Suddenly Riptide seemed heavier in my pocket. A cursed blade? Chiron once told me Riptide had brought many people sorrow. Was it possible my own sword could get me killed? And how could the world fall into endless sleep, unless that meant death?

"Percy," Chiron urged. "Read the rest."

My mouth felt like it was full of sand, but I spoke the last two lines.

"A single choice shall. . . shall end his days.

Olympus to per—pursue—"

"Preserve," A

"I know what it means," I grumbled. "Olympus to preserve or raze."

The room was silent. Finally Co

"Not raise," Silena said. Her voice was hollow, but I was startled to hear her speak at all. "R-a-z-e means destroy."

"Obliterate," A

"Got it." My heart felt like lead. "Thanks."

Everybody was looking at me—with concern, or pity, or maybe a little fear.

Chiron closed his eyes as if he were saying a prayer. In horse form, his head almost brushed the lights in the rec room. "You see now, Percy, why we thought it best not to tell you the whole prophecy. You've had enough on your shoulders—"

"Without realizing I was going to die in the end anyway?" I said. "Yeah, I get it."

Chiron gazed at me sadly. The guy was three thousand years old. He'd seen hundreds of heroes die. He might not like it, but he was used to it. He probably knew better than to try to reassure me.

"Percy," A

"Sure," I said. "A single choice shall end his days. That has tons of meanings, right?"

"Maybe we can stop it," Jake Mason offered. "The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. Maybe we could find this cursed blade and destroy it. Sounds like Kronos's scythe, right?"

I hadn't thought about that, but it didn't matter if the cursed blade was Riptide or Kronos's scythe. Either way, I doubted we could stop the prophecy. A blade was supposed to reap my soul. As a general rule, I preferred not to have my soul reaped.

"Perhaps we should let Percy think about these lines," Chiron said. "He needs time—"

"No." I folded up the prophecy and shoved it into my pocket. I felt defiant and angry, though I wasn't sure who I was angry with. "I don't need time. If I die, I die. I can't worry about that, right?"

A

"Let's move on," I said. "We've got other problems. We've got a spy."

Michael Yew scowled. "A spy?"

I told them what had happened on the Princess Andromeda—how Kronos had known we were coming, how he'd shown me the silver scythe pendant he'd used to communicate with someone at camp.

Silena started to cry again, and A

"Well," Co

Maybe subconsciously, he glanced at A

"Yes." Katie Gardner frowned at the Stoll brothers. She'd disliked them ever since they'd decorated the grass roof of the Demeter cabin with chocolate Easter bu

Travis and Co

"Stop!" Silena banged the table so hard her hot chocolate spilled. "Charlie's dead and . . . and you're all arguing like little kids!" She put her head down and began to sob.

Hot chocolate trickled off the Ping-Pong table. Everybody looked ashamed.

"She's right," Pollux said at last. "Accusing each other doesn't help. We need to keep our eyes open for a silver necklace with a scythe charm. If Kronos had one, the spy probably does too."

Michael Yew grunted. "We need to find this spy before we plan our next operation. Blowing up the Princess Andromeda won't stop Kronos forever."

"No indeed," Chiron said. "In fact his next assault is already on the way."

I scowled. "You mean the 'bigger threat' Poseidon mentioned?"

He and A

"Percy," Chiron said, "we didn't want to tell you until you returned to camp. You needed a break with your . . . mortal friends."

A

"Tell me what's happened," I said.

Chiron picked up a bronze goblet from the snack table. He tossed water onto the hot plate where we usually melted nacho cheese. Steam billowed up, making a rainbow in the fluorescent lights. Chiron fished a golden drachma out of his pouch, tossed it through the mist, and muttered, "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show us the threat."

The mist shimmered. I saw the familiar image of a smoldering volcano—Mount St. Helens. As I watched, the side of the mountain exploded. Fire, ash, and lava rolled out. A newscaster's voice was saying "—even larger than last year's eruption, and geologists warn that the mountain may not be done."

I knew all about last year's eruption. I'd caused it. But this explosion was much worse. The mountain tore itself apart, collapsing inward, and an enormous form rose out of the smoke and lava like it was emerging from a manhole. I hoped the Mist would keep the humans from seeing it clearly, because what I saw would've caused panic and riots across the entire United States.

The giant was bigger than anything I'd ever encountered. Even my demigod eyes couldn't make out its exact form through the ash and fire, but it was vaguely humanoid and so huge it could've used the Chrysler Building as a baseball bat. The mountain shook with a horrible rumbling, as if the monster were laughing.

"It's him," I said. "Typhon."

I was seriously hoping Chiron would say something good, like No, that's our huge friend Leroy! He's going to help us! But no such luck. He simply nodded. "The most horrible monster of all, the biggest single threat the gods ever faced. He has been freed from under the mountain at last. But this scene is from two days ago. Here is what is happening today."

Chiron waved his hand and the image changed. I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path—ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys.

"Monumental floods," an a