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🍦— 011. all hail to hero of manhattan.
THE THREE FATES themselves took Luke's body.
Vivi had never seen the old ladies, but she felt a familiarity washing over her as they looked at her. They looked like three ghoulish grandmothers with bags of knitting needles and yarn. One of them looked at her and Vivi watched as her entire life flashed in front of her eyes. She blinked the image away.
It is done, she said.
The Fate held up the snippet of blue yarn ─ Luke's lifeline. They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room.
"Wait," Hermes said.
Her father was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmet. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus, murmuring, Luke, poor Luke. Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek ─ a final blessing.
"Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body. As they left, Vivi thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth long ago ─ cursed because Luke had broken his promise and betrayed his friends. A single choice shall end his days. Percy's choice, to give him the knife, and to believe, as Annabeth had, that he was still capable of setting things right. Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he had saved Olympus.
Next to Vivi, Annabeth's knees buckled. She caught the girl at one arm, while Percy caught her other. The blonde cried out in pain
"Percy!" Vivi scolded.
"Oh gods," Percy said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!"
"It's all right," she said.
But it wasn't as she passed out in the pair's arms.
"She needs help!" Vivi yelled.
"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service."
He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.
