NAOMI FOUGHT NUMBLY. It didn't matter—Clarisse was a demon on the battlefield, cutting through the Titans' army and crushing everything in her path. Her rage flooded the fight, destroying the enemy. An aura of red fire flickered around her—the blessing of her father, Ares.
Naomi was numb as they withdrew, too. The campers and Hunters and satyrs tended to the wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Long after the enemy had retreated from sight, Clarisse kept riding up and down the avenue with the drakon's carcass still tied to her chariot, demanding that Kronos meet her in battle.
"I'll watch her," Chris said. "She'll get tired eventually. I'll make sure she comes inside."
"What about camp?" Percy asked. "Is anybody left there?"
Chris shook his head. "Just the little ones, Argus, and the nature spirits. Peleus the dragon is still guarding the tree."
"That won't last long," Percy said. "But I'm glad you came."
Chris nodded sadly. "I'm sorry it took so long. I tried to reason with Clarisse. I said there's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here. I'm sorry it took Silena..."
"My Hunters will help you stand guard," Thalia said. "Annabeth, Naomi, Percy—you should go to Olympus. I have a feeling they'll need you up there—to set up the final defense."
❊
The doorman had disappeared from the lobby. His book was facedown on the desk and his chair was empty. The rest of the lobby, however, was jam-packed with wounded campers, Hunters, and satyrs.
Connor and Travis Stoll met the trio by the elevators.
"Is it true?" Connor asked. "About Silena?"
Percy nodded. "She died a hero."
Travis shifted uncomfortably. "Um, I also heard—"
"That's it," Naomi said. "End of story."
"Right," Travis mumbled. "Listen, we figure the Titan's army will have trouble getting up the elevator. They'll have to go up a few at a time. And the giants won't be able to fit at all."
"That's our biggest advantage," Percy said. "Any way to disable the elevator?"
"It's magic," Travis said. "Usually you need a key card, but the doorman vanished. That means the defenses are crumbling. Anyone can walk into the elevator now and head straight up."
"Then we have to keep them away from the doors," Percy said. "We'll bottle them up in the lobby."
"We need reinforcements," Travis said. "They'll just keep coming. Eventually they'll overwhelm us."
"There are no reinforcements," Connor complained.
Naomi's throat tightened. She looked outside at Mrs. O'Leary and Skia, breathing against the glass doors and smearing them with hellhound drool.
Silena was dead. She wasn't the first, and she wouldn't be the last.
But we're still fighting.
Naomi curled her hands into fists. She'd been ready to give up on getting her mother and her stepfather to join the fight, but after Silena...
One more chance. That was all she could give them.
She went outside and put her hands on the hellhounds' muzzles. Chiron had bandaged Mrs. O'Leary's injured paw, but she was still limping. Her fur was matted with mud, leaves, pizza slices, and dried monster blood. Skia only looked slightly better off.
"Okay, girls," Naomi said softly. "I know you're tired, but I have one more favor to ask. Skia, you'll make sure Mrs. O'Leary's okay?"
Skia barked a clear affirmative.
Naomi nodded, and leaned down to whisper her instructions.
❊
After the hellhounds shadow-traveled away, Naomi rejoined Percy and Annabeth in the lobby. On the way to the elevator, they spotted Grover kneeling over a wounded satyr.
"Leneus!" Percy said.
The old satyr looked terrible. His lips were blue. There was a broken spear in his belly, and his furry goat legs were twisted at a painful angle.
He tried to focus on them, but Naomi didn't think he saw them.
"Grover?" he murmured.
"I'm here, Leneus." Grover was blinking back tears, despite all the horrible things Leneus had said about him.
"Did... did we win?"
"Um.... yes," Grover lied. "Thanks to you, Leneus. We drove the enemy away."
"Told you," the old satyr mumbled. "True leader. True..."
He closed his eyes for the last time.
Grover gulped. He put his hand on Leneus's forehead and spoke an ancient blessing. The old satyr's body melted, until all that was left was a tiny sapling m a pile of fresh soil.
"A laurel," Grover said in awe. "Oh, that lucky old goat."
He gathered up the sapling in his hands. "I... I should plant him. In Olympus, in the gardens."
"We're going that way," Percy said. "Come on."
Easy-listening music played as the elevator rose. Naomi thought about the first time she'd visited Mount Olympus, back when she was thirteen. It had just been her and Percy then, but now, Annabeth and Grover were with them, too. She was glad. She had a feeling it might be their last adventure together.
"Percy," Annabeth said quietly. "You were right about Luke." It was the first time she'd spoken since Silena's death. She kept her eyes fixed on the elevator floors as they blinked into the magical numbers: 400, 450, 500.
"Annabeth," Percy said. "I'm sorry—"
"You tried to tell me." Her voice was shaky. "Luke is no good. I didn't believe you until... until I heard how he'd used Silena. Now I know. I hope you're happy."
"That doesn't make me happy."
She put her head against the elevator wall and wouldn't look at any of them.
Grover cradled his laurel sapling in his hands. "Well... sure is good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor."
The doors dinged and they stepped onto the aerial walkway.
Depressing was the only way to describe the city. No fires lit the braziers. The windows were dark. The streets were deserted, the doors barred. The only movement was in the parks, which had been set up as field hospitals. Will Solace and the other Apollo campers scrambled around, caring for the wounded. Naiads and dryads tried to help, using nature magic songs to heal burns and poison. Naomi spotted Lilium running around, helping where she could.
The nymph caught her eye, and sent Naomi a weary smile.
Naomi helped Grover plant the laurel sapling as Annabeth and Percy checked on the wounded. Then, they continued toward the palace.
The bronze doors creaked open. Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The constellations twinkled coldly on the ceiling of the great hall. The hearth was down to a dull red glow. Hestia, in the form of a little girl in brown robes, hunched at its edge, shivering. The Ophiotaurus swam sadly in his sphere of water. He let out a half-hearted Moo when he saw Percy.
In the firelight, the thrones cast evil-looking shadows, like grasping hands.
Standing at the foot of Zeus's throne, looking up at the stars, was Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She was holding a Greek ceramic vase.
"Rachel?" Percy said. "Um, what are you doing with that?"
She focused on him as if she were coming out of a dream. "I found it. It's Pandora's jar, isn't it?"
Her eyes were brighter than usual, and Naomi had a bad flashback of moldy sandwiches and burned cookies.
"Please put down the jar," Percy said.
"I can see Hope inside it." Rachel ran her fingers over the ceramic designs. "So fragile."
"Rachel."
His voice seemed to bring her back to reality. She held out the jar, and he took it.
"Grover," Annabeth mumbled. "Let's scout around the palace. Maybe we can find some extra Greek fire or Hephaestus traps."
"But—"
Annabeth elbowed him.
"Right!" he yelped. "I love traps!"
Annabeth looked at Naomi. "You coming?"
Naomi looked at the dying hearth, and the goddess watching over it. She shook her head.
Annabeth hesitated, but she nodded, then dragged Grover out of the throne room.
Naomi walked over to the fire. Hestia was huddled in her robes, rocking back and forth. She looked up as Naomi sat down.
"You made your choice," the goddess whispered.
"I did," Naomi said.
"As I believed you would," Hestia murmured.
"The hearth—"
"Still fights," the goddess told her. "It will not die so easily."
Naomi reached a hand over the coals, and the smallest flicker of a flame rose, almost touching her palm. It was warm, and in its flickering, she could almost hear it saying, Thank you.
Percy brought Rachel over to the hearth.
"Lady Hestia," he said.
"Hello, Percy Jackson," the goddess murmured. "Getting colder."
"I know," Percy said. "The Titans are near."
Hestia focused on Rachel. "Hello, my dear. You've come to our hearth at last."
Rachel blinked. "You've been expecting me?"
Hestia held out her hands, and the coals glowed. Naomi saw images in the fire: her and her mother in her garden; game night in the Demeter cabin; Christmas with Percy and his family; lounging on Annabeth's bunk while she worked; the campfire at Camp Half-Blood, the sound of singing and smell of roasting marshmallows filling the air. Home.
"To claim your place at the hearth," Hestia told Rachel, "you must let go of your distractions. It is the only way you will survive."
Rachel nodded. "I—I understand."
"Wait," Percy said. "What is she talking about?"
Rachel took a shaky breath. "Percy, when I came here... I thought I was coming for you. But I wasn't. You and me..." She shook her head.
Naomi was starting to regret not going with Grover and Annabeth.
"Wait. Now I'm a distraction?" Percy asked. "Is this because I'm 'not the hero' or whatever?"
"I'm not sure I can put it into words," she said. "I was drawn to you because... because you opened the door to all of this." She gestured at the throne room. "I needed to understand my true sight. But you and me, that wasn't part of it. Our fates aren't intertwined. I think you've always known that, deep down."
Percy stared at her. "So... what?" he said. "'Thanks for bringing me to Olympus. See ya.' Is that what you're saying?"
Rachel stared at the fire.
"Percy Jackson," Hestia said. "Rachel has told you all she can. Her moment is coming, but your decision approaches even more rapidly. Are you prepared?"
Percy looked at Pandora's jar. He stared at it for so long, Naomi feared he'd give in and open it. She wouldn't have been able to blame him, not after all of the horror they'd witnessed.
He looked at Hestia, then his eyes flitted to Naomi.
Footsteps approached. Annabeth and Grover came back into the throne room and stopped when they saw them.
"Percy?" Annabeth asked. "Should we, um, leave again?"
Percy blinked, and it looked like he was seeing clearly for the first time.
He looked at Rachel. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean... you talked to Chiron, right?"
She managed a faint smile. "You're worried about me doing something stupid?"
"But I mean... will you be okay?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "That kind of depends on whether you save the world, hero."
Percy picked up Pandora's jar. "Hestia, I give you this as an offering."
The goddess tilted her head. "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?"
"You're the last Olympian," he said. "And the most important."
"And why is that, Percy Jackson?"
"Because Hope survives best at the hearth," he said. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again."
The goddess smiled. She took the jar in her hands and it began to glow. The hearth fire burned a little brighter.
"Well done, Percy Jackson," she said. "May the gods bless you."
"We're about to find out." He looked at Annabeth and Grover, then Naomi. "Come on, guys."
He marched toward his father's throne.
❊
The seat of Poseidon stood just to the right of Zeus's, but it wasn't nearly as grand. The molded black leather seat was attached to a swivel pedestal, with a couple of iron rings on the side for fastening a fishing pole (or a trident).
Gods in their natural state are about twenty feet tall, so Percy could just reach the edge of the seat if he stretched his arms.
"Help me up," Percy said.
"Are you crazy?" Annabeth asked.
"Probably," he admitted.
"Percy," Grover said, "the gods really don't appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean, like, turn you into a pile of ashes don't appreciate it."
"I need to get his attention," Percy said. "It's the only way."
Annabeth, Grover, and Naomi exchanged uneasy looks.
"Well," Naomi said, "this'll definitely get his attention."
Annabeth and Grover linked their hands to make a step, then boosted Percy onto the throne.
Almost immediately, the throne rumbled.
Percy flinched like a bullet had just grazed the side of his face.
Watching him have a one-sided (for onlookers) conversation with Poseidon was one of the strangest things Naomi had ever seen—that, combined with how pale Percy became, and the literal smoke coming off of him...
Naomi was relieved when Percy finally slipped down from the throne.
Grover studied Percy nervously. "Are you okay? You turned pale and... you started smoking."
"I did not!" Then Percy looked at his arms. Steam curled off his shirt sleeves, the hair on his arms singed.
"If you'd sat there any longer," Annabeth said, "you would've spontaneously combusted. I hope the conversation was worth it?"
Moo, said the Ophiotaurus in his sphere of water.
"We'll find out soon," Percy said.
Just then the doors of the throne room swung open. Thalia marched in. Her bow was snapped in half and her quiver was empty.
"You've got to get down there," she told them. "The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading them."
❊
By the time they got to the street, it was too late.
Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must've lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice. The centaurs were nowhere to be seen. Either they'd panicked and ran or they'd been disintegrated.
The Titan army ringed the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos's vanguard was in the lead: Ethan, a dracaena in green armor, and two Hyperboreans. Kronos himself stood right in front with his scythe in hand.
The only thing standing in his way was...
"Chiron," Annabeth said, her voice trembling.
If Chiron heard her, he didn't answer. He had an arrow notched, aimed straight at Kronos's face.
As soon as Kronos saw Percy, his gold eyes flared. Then the Titan lord turned his attention back to Chiron. "Step aside, little son."
Hearing Luke call Chiron his son was strange enough, but Kronos put contempt in his voice, like son was the worst insult he could come up with.
"I'm afraid not." Chiron's tone was steely calm, the way he got when he was really angry.
Naomi tried to move, but her feet felt like concrete. Her friends were straining, too, like they were just as stuck.
"Chiron!" Annabeth said. "Look out!"
The dracaena became impatient and charged. Chiron's arrow flew straight between her eyes and she vaporized on the spot, her empty armor clattering to the asphalt.
Chiron reached for another arrow, but his quiver was empty. He dropped the bow and drew his sword. He hated fighting with a sword—it was never his favorite weapon.
Kronos chuckled. He advanced a step, and Chiron's horse-half skittered nervously. His tail flicked back and forth.
"You're a teacher," Kronos sneered. "Not a hero."
"Luke was a hero," Chiron said. "He was a good one, until you corrupted him."
"FOOL!" Kronos's voice shook the city. "You filled his head with empty promises. You said the gods cared about me!"
"Me," Chiron noticed. "You said me."
Kronos looked confused, and in that moment, Chiron struck. It was a good maneuver—a feint followed by a strike to the face. But Kronos was quick. He had all of Luke's fighting skill, which was a lot. He knocked aside Chiron's blade and yelled, "BACK!"
A blinding white light exploded between the Titan and the centaur. Chiron flew into the side of the building with such force the wall crumbled and collapsed on top of him.
"No!" Annabeth wailed. The freezing spell broke. They ran toward their teacher, but there was no sign of him. Thalia and Percy pulled helplessly at the bricks while a ripple of ugly laughter ran through the Titan's army.
"YOU!" Annabeth turned on Luke. "To think that I... that I thought—"
She drew her knife.
"Annabeth, don't!" Naomi tried to take her arm, but she shook her off.
She attacked Kronos, and his smug smile faded. Perhaps some part of Luke remembered that he used to like this girl, used to take care of her when she was little. She plunged her knife between the straps of his armor, right at his collar bone. The blade should've sunk into his chest. Instead it bounced off. Annabeth doubled over, clutching her arm to her stomach. The jolt might've been enough to dislocate her bad shoulder.
Percy yanked her back as Kronos swung his scythe, slicing the air where she'd been standing.
She fought Percy and screamed, "I HATE you!" Tears streaked the dust on her face.
"I have to fight him," Percy told her.
"It's my fight, too, Percy!"
Kronos laughed. "So much spirit. I can see why Luke wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible."
He raised his scythe. Naomi got ready to defend, but before Kronos could strike, a dog's howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titans' army. Another sounded right after.
"Mrs. O'Leary?" Percy called. "Skia?"
The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to.
Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block were two hellhounds, flanking a small figure in black armor.
"Nico?" Naomi called.
"ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward them, ignoring the growling monsters on either side as she ran for Percy. Skia was half a second behind, her tail making a sandstorm of monster dust in her wake.
Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him like radiated death, which of course he did.
Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?"
"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"
"Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me."
"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."
Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."
The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan's monsters got jumpy and started to back up.
"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos demanded. "The dead are no match for us."
The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded, and as the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico. The horses were living shadows, fashioned from darkness. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.
Naomi almost cried at the sight.
"Mom," she whispered.
The goddess heard her, and her eyes shone with pride.
Hades wore black armor and a cloak the color of fresh blood. On top of his pale head was the Helm of Darkness: a crown that radiated pure terror. It changed shape as Naomi watched—from a dragon's head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. But that wasn't the scary part. The helm reached into her mind and ignited her worst nightmares, her most secret fears. Naomi knew the enemy army felt it, too. Only Kronos's power and authority kept his ranks from fleeing.
Hades smiled coldly. "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."
"Hades," Kronos growled. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."
"I'm afraid not." Hades sighed. "My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies, and my stepdaughter... well, she was right about one thing. It would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."
"True," muttered Demeter. "No appreciation of agriculture."
"Mother!" Persephone complained.
Hades drew his sword, a double-edged Stygian blade etched with silver. "Now fight me! For today the House of Hades will be called the saviors of Olympus."
"I don't have time for this," Kronos snarled.
He struck the ground with his scythe. A crack spread in both directions, circling the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos's vanguard, Naomi's friends, and Naomi herself from the bulk of the two armies.
"What's he doing?" Percy muttered.
"Sealing us in," Thalia said. "He's collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan—cutting off just the building, and us."
Sure enough, outside the barrier, car engines revved to life. Pedestrians woke up and stared uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. No telling what they saw through the Mist, but it must have been scary. Car doors opened. At the end of the block, Paul Blofis and Sally Jackson got out of their Prius.
"No," Percy said. "Don't..."
Sally could see through the Mist. She must have understood how serious things were, but she didn't run away. She locked eyes with Percy, said something to Paul, and the two ran straight toward the fight.
Fortunately, Hades caused a distraction. He charged at the wall of force, but his chariot crashed against it and overturned. He got to his feet, cursing, and blasted the wall with black energy. The barrier held.
"ATTACK!" he roared.
The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan's monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae's spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect the pedestrians as best he could. Percy's parents ran toward them, dodging monsters and zombies.
"Nakamura," Kronos said. "Attend me. Giants—deal with them."
He pointed at Naomi and her friends. Then he ducked into the lobby.
Naomi and her friends were forced back into battle. The first Hyperborean giant smashed at Percy with his club. The second breathed frost at Annabeth, who was barely able to stand, but Grover pulled her out of the way while Thalia went to work. She sprinted up the giant's back like a gazelle, sliced her hunting knives across his monstrous blue neck, and created the world's largest headless ice sculpture.
A third giant decided to try his luck with Naomi, but it was a terrible decision. He barely got a chance to try anything before Naomi's shadows surged up, wrapping around him like a mummy and squeezing until he was reduced to monster ash.
"Excellent, dear!" Naomi looked up to see her mother grinning from her flowery chariot.
"You came," Naomi said, because she still couldn't believe it.
"Of course, Kore," Persephone said. "A family must always come to each other's aid. And you and your stepbrother are both very persistent when you want to be. I imagine you got that from us."
Naomi managed a smile. "Maybe a little."
"Go," Persephone said, nodding at something behind Naomi. "Find that dreadful Titan. Save Olympus."
❊
underworld fam to the rescue <3
i'll be updating every day next week (monday—saturday), and then book one will be complete! i can't believe it!!
see y'all monday <3