The Last Olympian (4 page)

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Authors: Rick Riordan

Tags: #Children: Grades 4-6, #Fiction, #Monsters, #Legends; Myths; & Fables - Greek & Roman, #Fate and fatalism, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Ages 9-12 Fiction, #Fantasy fiction; American, #Animals, #Mythical, #Mythology; Greek, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Greek & Roman, #People & Places, #Adventure stories; American, #Titans (Mythology), #Action & Adventure - General, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction; Fantasy; Magic, #Children's Books, #General, #Fantasy, #Jackson; Percy (Fictitious character), #Animals; Mythical, #United States

BOOK: The Last Olympian
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I was wrong.

The roof of the temple was a big open deck that had been set up as a command center. A mosaic on the floor showed an exact map of the palace grounds and the surrounding ocean, but the mosaic moved. Colored stone tiles representing different armies and sea monsters shifted around as the forces changed position. Buildings that collapsed in real life also collapsed in the picture. Standing around the mosaic, grimly studying the battle, was a strange assortment of warriors, but none of them looked like my dad. I was searching for a big guy with a good tan and a black beard, wearing Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.

There was nobody like that. One guy was a merman with two fish tails instead of one. His skin was green, his armor studded with pearls. His black hair was tied in a ponytail, and he looked youngthough it's hard to tell with non-humans. They could be a thousand years old or three. Standing next to him was an old man with a bushy white beard and gray hair. His battle armor seemed to weigh him down. He had green eyes and smile wrinkles around his eyes, but he wasn't smiling now. He was studying the map and leaning on a large metal staff. To his right stood a beautiful woman in green armor with flowing black hair and strange little horns like crab claws. And there was a dolphin-just a regular dolphin, but it was staring at the map intently.

"Delphin," the old man said. "Send Palaemon and his legion of sharks to the western front. We have to neutralize those leviathans." The dolphin spoke in a chattering voice, but I could understand it in my mind:
Yes, lord!
It sped away.

I looked in dismay at Tyson, then back at the old man.

It didn't seem possible, but . . . "Dad?" I asked. The old man looked up. I recognized the twinkle in his eyes, but his face . . . he looked like he'd aged forty years.

"Hello, Percy."

"What-what happened to you?"

Tyson nudged me. He was shaking his head so hard Iwas afraid it would fall off, but Poseidon didn't look offended.

"It's all right, Tyson," he said. "Percy, excuse my appearance. The war has been hard on me."

"But you're immortal," I said quietly. "You can look . . . any way you want."

"I reflect the state of my realm," he said. "And right now that state is quite grim. Percy, I should introduce you-I'm afraid you just missed my lieutenant Delphin, God of the Dolphins. This is my, er, wife, Amphitrite. My dear-
"

The lady in green armor stared at me coldly, then crossed her arms and said, "Excuse me, my lord. I am needed in the battle." She swam away.

I felt pretty awkward, but I guess I couldn't blame her. I'd never thought about it much, but my dad had an immortal wife. All his romances with mortals, including with my mom . . . well, Amphitrite probably didn't like that much.

Poseidon cleared his throat. "Yes, well . . . and this is my son Triton. Er, my
other
son."

"Your son and heir," the green dude corrected. His double fish tails swished back and forth. He smiled at me, but there was no friendliness in his eyes. "Hello, Perseus Jackson. Come to help at last?"

He acted like I was late or lazy. If you can blush underwater, I probably did.

"Tell me what to do," I said.

Triton smiled like that was a cute suggestion-like I was a slightly amusing dog that had barked for him or something. He turned to Poseidon. "I will see to the front line, Father. Don't worry.
I
will not fail."

He nodded politely to Tyson. How come I didn't get that much respect? Then he shot off into the water.

Poseidon sighed. He raised his staff, and it changed into his regular weapon-a huge three-pointed trident. The tip glowed with blue light, and the water around it boiled with energy.

"I'm sorry about that," he told me.

A huge sea serpent appeared from above us and spiraled down toward the roof. It was bright orange with a fanged mouth big enough to swallow a gymnasium.

Hardly looking up, Poseidon pointed his trident at the beast and zapped it with blue energy.
Ka-boom!
The monster burst into a million goldfish, which all swam off in terror.

"My family is anxious," Poseidon continued as if nothing had happened. "The battle against Oceanus is going poorly." He pointed to the edge of the mosaic. With the butt of his trident he tapped the image of a merman larger than the rest, with the horns of a bull. He appeared to be riding a chariot pulled by crawfish, and instead of a sword he wielded a live serpent.

"Oceanus," I said, trying to remember. "The Titan of the sea?" Poseidon nodded. "He was neutral in the first war of gods and Titans. But Kronos has convinced him to fight. This is . . . well, it's not a good sign. Oceanus would not commit unless he was sure he could pick the winning side."

"He looks stupid," I said, trying to sound upbeat. "I mean, who fights with a snake?"

"Daddy will tie it in knots," Tyson said firmly. Poseidon smiled, but he looked weary. "I appreciate your faith. We have been at war almost a year now. My powers are taxed. And still he finds new forces to throw at me-sea monsters so ancient I had forgotten about them."

I heard an explosion in the distance. About half a mile away, a mountain of coral disintegrated under the weight of two giant creatures. I could dimly make out their shapes. One was a lobster. The other was a giant humanoid like a Cyclops, but he was surrounded by a flurry of limbs. At first I thought he wearing a bunch of giant octopi. Then I realized they were his own arms-a hundred flailing, fighting arms.

"Briares!" I said.

I was happy to see him, but he looked like he was fighting for his life. He was the last of his kind-a Hundred-Handed One, cousin of the Cyclopes. We'd saved him from Kronos's prison last summer, and I knew he'd come to help Poseidon, but I hadn't heard of him since.

"He fights well," Poseidon said. "I wish we had a whole army like him, but he is the only one."

I watched as Briares bellowed in rage and picked up the lobster, which thrashed and snapped its pincers. He threw it off the coral mountain, and the lobster disappeared into the darkness. Briares swam after it, his hundred arms spinning like the blades of a motorboat.

"Percy, we may not have much time," my dad said. "Tell me of your mission. Did you see Kronos?"

I told him everything, though my voice choked up when I explained about Beckendorf. I looked down at the courtyards below and saw hundreds of wounded mermen lying on makeshift cots. I saw rows of coral mounds that must've been hastily made graves. I realized Beckendorf wasn't the first death. He was only one of hundreds, maybe thousands. I'd never felt so angry and helpless.

Poseidon stroked his beard. "Percy, Beckendorf chose a heroic death. You bear no blame for that. Kronos's army will be m disarray. Many were destroyed."

"But we didn't kill him, did we?"

As I said it, I knew it was a naive hope. We might blow up his ship and disintegrate his monsters, but a Titan lord wouldn't be so easy to kill.

"No," Poseidon admitted. "But you've bought our side some time."

"There were demigods on that ship," I said, thinking of the kid I'd seen in the stairwell. Somehow I'd allowed myself to concentrate on the monsters and Kronos. I'd convinced myself that destroying their ship was all right because they were evil, they were sailing to attack my city, and besides, they couldn't really be permanently killed. Monsters just vaporized and re-formed eventually. But demigods . . .

Poseidon put his hand on my shoulder. "Percy, there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship, and they all chose to battle for Kronos. Perhaps some heeded your warning and escaped. If they did not . . . they chose their path."

"They were brainwashed!" I said. "Now they're dead and Kronos is still alive. That's supposed to make me feel better?" I glared at the mosaic-little tile explosions destroying tile monsters. It seemed so easy when it was just a picture. Tyson put his arm around me. If anybody else had tried that, I would've pushed him away, but Tyson was too big and stubborn. He hugged me whether I wanted it or not. "Not your fault, brother. Kronos does not explode good. Next time we will use a big stick."

"Percy," my father said. "Beckendorf's sacrifice wasn't in vain. You have scattered the invasion force. New York will be safe for a time, which frees the other Olympians to deal with the bigger threat."

"The bigger threat?" I thought about what the golden Titan had said in my dream:
The gods have answered the challenge. Soon they
will be destroyed.

A shadow passed over my father's face. "You've had enough sorrow for one day. Ask Chiron when you return to camp."

"Return to camp? But you're in trouble here. I want to help!"

"You can't, Percy. Your job is elsewhere."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this. I looked at Tyson for backup.

My brother chewed his lip. "Daddy . . . Percy can fight with a sword. He is good."

"I know that," Poseidon said gently.

"Dad, I can help," I said. "I know I can. You're not going to hold out here much longer."

A fireball launched into the sky from behind the enemy lines. I thought Poseidon would deflect it or something, but it landed on the outer corner of the yard and exploded, sending mermen tumbling through the water. Poseidon winced as if he'd just been stabbed.

"Return to camp," he insisted. "And tell Chiron it is time."

"For what?"

"You must hear the prophecy. The
entire
prophecy." I didn't need to ask him which prophecy. I'd been hearing about the "Great Prophecy" for years, but nobody would ever tell me the whole thing. All I knew was that I was supposed to make a decision that would decide the fate of the world-but no pressure.

"What if
this
is the decision?" I said. "Staying here to light, or leaving? What if I leave and you . . ."

I couldn't say
die.
Gods weren't supposed to die, but I'd seen it happen. Even if they didn't die, they could be reduced to nearly nothing, exiled, imprisoned in the depths of Tartarus like Kronos had been.

"Percy, you must go," Poseidon insisted. "I don't know what your final decision will be, but your fight lies in the world above. If nothing else, you must warn your friends at camp. Kronos knew your plans. You have a spy. We will hold here. We have no choice." Tyson gripped my hand desperately. "I will miss you, brother!" Watching us, our father seemed to age another ten years.

"Tyson, you have work to do as well, my son. They need you in the armory."

Tyson pouted some more.

"I will go," he sniffled. He hugged me so hard he almost cracked my ribs. "Percy, be careful! Do not let monsters kill you dead!"

I tried to nod confidently, but it was too much for the big guy. He sobbed and swam away toward the armory, where his cousins were fixing spears and swords.

"You should let him fight," I told my father. "He hates being stuck in the armory. Can't you tell?"

Poseidon shook his head. "It is bad enough I must send you into danger. Tyson is too young. I must protect him."

"You should trust him," I said. "Not try to protect him." Poseidon's eyes flared. I thought I'd gone too far, but then he looked down at the mosaic and his shoulders sagged. On the tiles, the mermaid guy in the crawfish chariot was coming closer to the palace.

"Oceanus approaches," my father said. "I must meet him in battle." I'd never been scared for a god before, but I didn't see how my dad could face this Titan and win.

"I will hold," Poseidon promised. "I will not give up my domain. Just tell me, Percy, do you still have the birthday gift I gave you last summer?"

I nodded and pulled out my camp necklace. It had a bead for every summer I'd been at Camp Half-Blood, but since last year I'd also kept a sand dollar on the cord. My father had given it to me for my fifteenth birthday. He'd told me I would know when to "spend it," but so far I hadn't figured out what he meant. All I knew was that it didn't fit the vending machines in the school cafeteria.

"The time is coming," he promised. "With luck, I will see you for your birthday next week, and we will have a proper celebration." He smiled, and for a moment I saw the old light in his eyes. Then the entire sea grew dark in front of us, like an inky storm was rolling in. Thunder crackled, which should've been impossible underwater. A huge icy presence was approaching. I sensed a wave of fear roll through the armies below us.

"I must assume my true godly form," Poseidon said. "Go-and good luck, my son."

I wanted to encourage him, to hug him or something, but knew better than to stick around. When a god assumes his true form, the power is so great that any mortal looking on him will disintegrate.

"Good-bye, Father," I managed.

Then I turned away. I willed the ocean currents to aid me. Water swirled around me, and I shot toward the surface at speeds that would've caused any normal human to pop like a balloon. When I looked back, all I could see were flashes of green and blue as my father fought the Titan, and the sea itself was torn apart by the two armies.

CHAPTER THREE
I GET A SNEAK PEEK AT

MY DEATH

If you want to be popular at Camp Half-Blood, don't come back from a mission with bad news.

Word of my arrival spread as soon as I walked out of the ocean. Our beach is on the North Shore of Long Island, and it's enchanted so most people can't even see it. People don't just
appear
on the beach unless they're demigods or gods or really, really lost pizza delivery guys. (It's happened-but that's another story.) Anyway, that afternoon the lookout on duty was Connor Stoll from the Hermes cabin. When he spotted me, he got so excited he fell out of his tree. Then he blew the conch horn to signal the camp and ran to greet me.

Connor had a crooked smile that matched his crooked sense of humor. He's a pretty nice guy, but you should always keep one hand on your wallet when he's around, and do not, under any

circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it. He's got curly brown hair and is a little shorter than his brother, Travis, which is the only way I can tell them apart. They are both so unlike my old enemy Luke it's hard to believe they're all sons of Hermes.

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