The Last Olympian (3 page)

"You'll never get this boat to Manhattan." My arm was throbbing. Black spots danced in my vision.

"And why would that be?" Kronos's golden eyes glittered. His face-Luke's face-seemed like a mask, unnatural and lit from behind by some evil power. "Perhaps you are counting on your friend with the explosives?"

He looked down at the pool and called, "Nakamura!" A teenage guy in full Greek armor pushed through the crowd. His left eye was covered with a black patch. I knew him, of course: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. I'd saved his life in the Labyrinth last summer, and in return, the little punk had helped Kronos come back to life.

"Success, my lord," Ethan called. "We found him just as we were told."

He clapped his hands, and two giants lumbered forward,

dragging Charles Beckendorf between them. My heart almost stopped. Beckendorf had a swollen eye and cuts all over his face and arms. His armor was gone and his shirt was nearly torn off.

"No!" I yelled.

Beckendorf met my eyes. He glanced at his hand like he was trying to tell me something.
His watch.
They hadn't taken it yet, and that was the detonator. Was it possible the explosives were armed?

Surely the monsters would've dismantled them right away.

"We found him amidships," one of the giants said, "trying to sneak to the engine room. Can we eat him now?"

"Soon." Kronos scowled at Ethan. "Are you sure he didn't set the explosives?"

"He was going
toward
the engine room, my lord."

"How do you know that?"

"Er . . ." Ethan shifted uncomfortably. "He was heading in that direction. And he told us. His bag is still full of explosives." Slowly, I began to understand. Beckendorf had fooled them. When he'd realized he was going to be captured, he turned to make it look like he was going the other way. He'd convinced them he hadn't made it to the engine room yet. The Greek fire might still be primed!

But that didn't do us any good unless we could get off the ship and detonate it.

Kronos hesitated.

Buy the story,
I prayed. The pain in my arm was so bad now I could barely stand.

"Open his bag," Kronos ordered.

One of the giants ripped the explosives satchel from

Beckendorf's shoulders. He peered inside, grunted, and turned it upside down. Panicked monsters surged backward. If the bag really had been full of Greek fire jars, we would've all blown up. But what fell out were a dozen cans of peaches.

I could hear Kronos breathing, trying to control his anger.

"Did you, perhaps," he said, "capture this demigod near the galley?"

Ethan turned pale. "Um-"

"And did you, perhaps, send someone to actually CHECK THE

ENGINE ROOM?"

Ethan scrambled back in terror, then turned on his heels and ran.

I cursed silently. Now we had only minutes before the bombs were disarmed. I caught Beckendorf's eyes again and asked a silent question, hoping he would understand:
How long?

He cupped his fingers and thumb, making a circle.
Zero.
There was no delay on the timer at all. If he managed to press the detonator button, the ship would blow at once. We'd never be able to get far enough away before using it. The monsters would kill us first, or disarm the explosives, or both.

Kronos turned toward me with a crooked smile. "You'll have to excuse my incompetent help, Percy Jackson. But it doesn't matter. We have you now. We've known you were coming for weeks." He held out his hand and dangled a little silver bracelet with a scythe charm-the Titan lord's symbol.

The wound in my arm was sapping my ability to think, but I muttered, "Communication device . . . spy at camp." Kronos chuckled. "You can't count on friends. They will always let you down. Luke learned that lesson the hard way. Now drop your sword and surrender to me, or your friend dies."

I swallowed. One of the giants had his hand around

Beckendorf's neck. I was in no shape to rescue him, and even if I tried, he would die before I got there. We both would.

Beckendorf mouthed one word:
Go.

I shook my head. I couldn't just leave him.

The second giant was still rummaging through the peach cans, which meant Beckendorf's left arm was free. He raised it slowlytoward the watch on his right wrist. I wanted to scream,
NO!

Then down by the swimming pool, one of the
dracaenae
hissed,

"What isss he doing? What isss that on hisss wrissst?" Beckendorf closed eyes tight and brought his hand up to his watch.

I had no choice. I threw my sword like a javelin at Kronos. It bounced harmlessly off his chest, but it did startle him. I pushed through a crowd of monsters and jumped off the side of the shiptoward the water a hundred feet below. I heard rumbling deep in the ship. Monsters yelled at me from above. A spear sailed past my ear. An arrow pierced my thigh, but I barely had time to register the pain. I plunged into the sea and willed the currents to take me far, far away-a hundred yards, two hundred yards.

Even from that distance, the explosion shook the world. Heat seared the back of my head. The
Princess Andromeda
blew up from both sides, a massive fireball of green flame roiling into the dark sky, consuming everything.

Beckendorf, I thought.

Then I blacked out and sank like an anchor toward the bottom of the sea.

RELATIVES

Demigod dreams suck.

The thing is, they're never just
dreams.
They've got to be visions, omens, and all that other mystical stuff that makes my brain hurt.

I dreamed I was in a dark palace at the top of a mountain. Unfortunately, I recognized it: the palace of the Titans on top of Mount Othrys, otherwise known as Mount Tamalpais, in California. The main pavilion was open to the night, ringed with black Greek columns and statues of the Titans. Torchlight glowed against the black marble floor. In the center of the room, an armored giant struggled under the weight of a swirling funnel cloud-Atlas, holding up the sky.

Two other giant men stood nearby over a bronze brazier, studying images in the flames.

"Quite an explosion," one said. He wore black armor studded with silver dots like a starry night. His face was covered in a war helm with a ram's horn curling on either side.

"It doesn't matter," the other said. This Titan was dressed in gold robes, with golden eyes like Kronos. His entire body glowed. He reminded me of Apollo, God of the Sun, except the Titan's light was harsher, and his expression crueler. "The gods have answered the challenge. Soon they will be destroyed."

The images in the fire were hard to make out: storms, buildings crumbling, mortals screaming in terror.

"I will go east to marshal our forces," the golden Titan said.

"Krios, you shall remain and guard Mount Othrys." The ram horn dude grunted. "I always get the stupid jobs. Lord of the South. Lord of Constellations. Now I get to babysit Atlas while
you
have all the fun."

Under the whirlwind of clouds, Atlas bellowed in agony, "Let me out, curse you! I am your greatest warrior. Take my burden so I may fight!"

"Quiet!" the golden Titan roared. "You had your chance, Atlas. You failed. Kronos likes you just where you are. As for you, Krios, do your duty."

"And if you need more warriors?" Krios asked. "Our treacherous nephew in the tuxedo will not do you much good in a fight."

The golden Titan laughed. "Don't worry about him. Besides, the gods can barely handle our first little challenge. They have no idea how many others we have in store. Mark my words, in a few days'

time, Olympus will be in ruins, and we will meet here again to celebrate the dawn of the Sixth Age!"

The golden Titan erupted into flames and disappeared.

"Oh, sure," Krios grumbled. "He gets to erupt into flames. I get to wear these stupid ram's horns."

The scene shifted. Now I was outside the pavilion, hiding in the shadows of a Greek column. A boy stood next to me, eavesdropping on the Titans. He had dark silky hair, pale skin, and dark clothes-my friend Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades.

He looked straight at me, his expression grim. "You see, Percy?" he whispered. "You're running out of time. Do you really think you can beat them without my plan?"

His words washed over me as cold as the ocean floor, and my dreams went black.

"Percy?" a deep voice said.

My head felt like it had been microwaved in aluminum foil. I opened my eyes and saw a large shadowy figure looming over me.

"Beckendorf?" I asked hopefully.

"No, brother."

My eyes refocused. I was looking at a Cyclops-a misshapen face, ratty brown hair, one big brown eye full of concern. "Tyson?" My brother broke into a toothy grin. "Yay! Your brain works!" I wasn't so sure. My body felt weightless and cold. My voice sounded wrong. I could hear Tyson, but it was more like I was hearing vibrations inside my skull, not the regular sounds. I sat up, and a gossamer sheet floated away. I was on a bed made of silky woven kelp, in a room paneled with abalone shell. Glowing pearls the size of basketballs floated around the ceiling, providing light. I was under water.

Now, being the son of Poseidon and all, I was okay with this. I can breathe underwater just fine, and my clothes don't even get wet unless I want them to. But it was still a bit of a shock when a hammerhead shark drifted through the bedroom window, regarded me, and then swam calmly out the opposite side of the room.

"Where-"

"Daddy's palace," Tyson said.

Under different circumstances, I would've been excited. I'd never visited Poseidon's realm, and I'd been dreaming about it for years. But my head hurt. My shirt was still speckled with burn marks from the explosion. My arm and leg wounds had healed-just being in the ocean can do that for me, given enough time-but I still felt like I'd been trampled by a Laistrygonian soccer team in cleats.

"How long-"

"We found you last night," Tyson said, "sinking through the water."

"The
Princess Andromeda
?"

"Went ka-boom," Tyson confirmed.

"Beckendorf was on board. Did you find . . ." Tyson's face darkened. "No sign of him. I am sorry, brother." I stared out the window into deep blue water. Beckendorf was supposed to go to college in the fall. He had a girlfriend, lots of friends, his whole life ahead of him. He couldn't be
gone.
Maybe he'd made it off the ship like I had. Maybe he'd jumped over the side . . . and what? He couldn't have survived a hundred-foot fall into the water like I could. He couldn't have put enough distance between himself and the explosion.

I knew in my gut he was dead. He'd sacrificed himself to take out the
Princess Andromeda,
and I had abandoned him. I thought about my dream: the Titans discussing the explosion as if it didn't matter, Nico di Angelo warning me that I would never beat Kronos without following his plan-a dangerous idea I'd been avoiding for more than a year.

A distant blast shook the room. Green light blazed outside, turning the whole sea as bright as noon.

"What was that?" I asked.

T

yson looked worried. "Daddy will explain. Come, he is blowing up monsters."

The palace might have been the most amazing place I'd ever seen if it hadn't been in the process of getting destroyed. We swam to the end of a long hallway and shot upward on a geyser. As we rose over the rooftops I caught my breath-well, if you can catch your breath underwater.

The palace was as big as the city on Mount Olympus, with wide courtyards, gardens, and columned pavilions. The gardens were sculpted with coral colonies and glowing sea plants. Twenty or thirty buildings were made of abalone, white but gleaming with rainbow colors. Fish and octopi darted in and out of the windows. The paths were lined with glowing pearls like Christmas lights.

The main courtyard was filled with warriors-mermen with fish tails from the waist down and human bodies from the waist up, except their skin was blue, which I'd never known before. Some were tending the wounded. Some were sharpening spears and swords. One passed us, swimming in a hurry. His eyes were bright green, like that stuff they put in glo-sticks, and his teeth were shark teeth. They don't show you stuff like that in
The Little Mermaid.
Outside the main courtyard stood large fortifications-towers, walls, and antisiege weapons-but most of these had been smashed to ruins. Others were blazing with a strange green light that I knew well-Greek fire, which can burn even underwater.

Beyond this, the sea floor stretched into gloom. I could see battles raging-flashes of energy, explosions, the glint of armies clashing. A regular human would've found it too dark to see. Heck, a regular human would've been crushed by the pressure and frozen by the cold. Even my heat-sensitive eyes couldn't make out exactly what was going on.

At the edge of the palace complex, a temple with a red coral roof exploded, sending fire and debris streaming in slow motion across the farthest gardens. Out of the darkness above, an enormous form appeared-a squid larger than any skyscraper. It was surrounded by a glittering cloud of dust-at least I thought it was dust, until I realized it was a swarm of mermen trying to attack the monster. The squid descended on the palace and swatted its tentacles, smashing a whole column of warriors. Then a brilliant arc of blue light shot from the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings. The light hit the giant squid, and the monster dissolved like food coloring in water.

"Daddy," Tyson said, pointing to where the light had come from.

"He
did that?" I suddenly felt more hopeful. My dad had unbelievable powers. He was the god of the sea. He could deal with this attack, right? Maybe he'd let me help.

"Have you been in the fight?" I asked Tyson in awe. "Like bashing heads with your awesome Cyclops strength and stuff?" Tyson pouted, and immediately I knew I'd asked a bad question,

"I have been . . . fixing weapons," he mumbled. "Come. Let's go find Daddy."

I know this might sound weird to people with, like, regular parents, but I'd only seen my dad four or five times in my life, and never for more than a few minutes. The Greek gods don't exactly show up for their kids' basketball games. Still, I thought I would recognize Poseidon on sight.