Miss Quinn

123 ~ The Gifts of the Gods

The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.

One of them looked at Emma, and even though the creature didn't say anything, her life literally flashed before her eyes. Suddenly she was dueling Death Eaters. Then she was in her twenties, belly swelled in pregnancy. Next she was watching the Hogwarts Express leave the station, her children inside. Then she turned old and withered. All the strength left her body, and she saw her own tombstone and an open grave, a coffin being lowered into the ground. All this happened in less than a second.

It is done, the Fate said.

She held up the snippet of blue yarn, and Emma knew it symbolized Luke's life. 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.

The messenger god 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, Emma thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense to her. 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, Luke had saved Olympus. Rachel had been right. In the end, Percy wasn't really the hero. Luke was.

Next to Emma, Annabeth's knees buckled. Percy caught her, but she cried out in pain, and Emma realized he'd grabbed her broken arm. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten that Annabeth was injured!

"Oh gods," Percy said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said as she passed out in Percy's arms.

"She needs help!" Percy yelled.

"I'm right here, Seaweed," Emma scolded. "No need to yell."

She placed her fingertips on Annabeth's twisted arm and let her healing magic flow from her. Immediately the bruises faded. Annabeth's cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.

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. Emma let go of Annabeth as he neared them.

Apollo grinned. "Well done, Emma! She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?"

"Thanks, Apollo," Percy said. "We'll, um, let you handle the poetry."

The next few hours were a blur. Emma, Apollo, Will, Sadie, Fawn, and Connor went around healing any still-wounded campers and hunters. The gods set about repairing the throne room, which went surprisingly fast with twelve superpowerful beings at work. Grover and Percy sat with the wounded waiting to be healed. The Cyclopes had saved Thalia from the fallen statue. She was on crutches, but otherwise she was okay. Connor and Travis Stoll had made it through with only minor injuries. They promised they hadn't even looted the city much. Mrs. O'Leary had dug Chiron out of the rubble and rushed him off to camp. The Stolls looked kind of worried about the old centaur, but at least he was alive. Katie Gardner reported that she'd seen Rachel Elizabeth Dare run out of the Empire State Building at the end of the battle. Rachel had looked unharmed, but nobody knew where she'd gone, which troubled Emma.