Prophesied Powder, PJO

3.10

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Chapter 31
The God's Vote on How To
Kill Us

Volume 3: The Titan's Curse

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They circled over midtown Manhattan and made a complete orbit around Mount Olympus. In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from bloodred to indigo. Apparently, no one ever slept on Olympus. The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. Pallas was amazed. Olympus left him breathless.

The smell of Olympus was ethereal too. The gardens were all in bloom, disregarding the winter weather. Jasmines, roses, and sweeter things. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes--beautiful music that Pallas thought he could have listened to until he died.

Towering at the peak of the mountain was the greatest palace of all, the glowing white hall of the gods.

Their pegasi set them down in the outer courtyard, in front of huge silver gates. The gates opened by themselves--and somehow, that was a horrible omen of what was to come, Pallas thought.

Percy had a brief conversation with his pegasus before the animals flew off. Thalia, Annabeth, Percy, Pallas, and Pat were left alone, stood to regard the palace. They did not move for a moment, all frozen.

Maybe they were as scared as Pallas was. He knew Pat could not be blinded by the beauty of the place; maybe he was even more scared--or angry, depending on if he was thinking about Aphrodite. Pallas got a bit angry thinking about her too.

But Aphrodite really could not matter less when every single god was about to look down at them. Even if Pat was the one with a heart condition, Pallas thought his was about to give out.

Slowly, side by side, the five of them walked into the throne room.

Twelve enormous thrones made a U around a central hearth, just like the placement of the cabins at camp. The ceiling above glittered with constellations—even the newest one, Zoë the Huntress, making her way across the heavens with her bow drawn.

All of the seats were occupied. Each god and goddess was about four hundred and fifty centimeters tall, possibly more. A whole dozen of all-powerful super-beings turned their eyes on them at once. Fighting Atlas felt like a day at the beach.

"Welcome, heroes," Artemis said.

"Mooo!"

Bessie the Ophiotaurus and Grover were already in the room. A sphere of water was hovering in the center of the room, next to the hearth fire. Bessie was swimming happily around, swishing his serpent tail and poking his head out the sides and bottom of the sphere. He seemed to be enjoying the novelty of swimming in a magic bubble. Though Grover had been kneeling at Zeus's throne, he cried when he saw them, "You made it!"

He started to run toward Percy, then remembered he was turning his back on Zeus and looked for permission.

"Go on," Zeus said. But he was not really paying attention to Grover. The lord of the sky was staring intently at Thalia.

Pallas sent a nervous glance over to his father. Apollo had headphones in and sunglasses on, but he smiled, and Pallas nearly passed out. The gesture took him aback so strongly that he almost forgot to return it--though he was sure whatever facial expression he managed to make looked more like he was choking than smiling.