The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.
They were scary, these three ghoulish grandmothers with bags of knitting needles and yarn. One of them looked at Y/N, and even though she didn't say anything, his life flashed before his eyes. Suddenly he was twenty. Then he was a middle-aged man. Then he turned old and withered. All the strength left his body, and he saw his own tombstone and an open grave, a coffin being lowered into the ground. All this happened in less than a heartbeat.
It is done, she said.
The Fate held up a snippet of blue yarn, and he figured it was Luke's lifeline. It was the life that had been sacrificed to set things right.
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.
YN thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come home.
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, Y/N thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense. A 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 that he was still capable of setting things right. Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he had saved Olympus. Rachel was right. In the end, Percy wasn't really the hero. Luke was.
What would've happened if Percy hadn't taken the knife from Y/N's hands? Better not to think about it too much. Better that he didn't have any role in that prophecy either. Y/N was sure that if he'd had one, it wouldn't have ended so well.
Next to him, Annabeth's knees buckled. He caught her, careful not to grab her broken arm.
"Oh gods," he said. "Annabeth, are you okay?"
"It's all right," she said as she passed out in his arms.
"She needs help!" he 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.
Apollo grinned. "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," Y/N said. "I'll let you handle the poetry."
The next few hours were a blur. Percy asked Zeus to send a blue signal to warn his mother that he was alive. The Lord of the Sky didn't even blink an eye at the strange request. He snapped his fingers and informed them that a bright blue flag fifty feet wide was now flying from the top of the Empire State Building. The mortals would just have to wonder what it meant, but Ms. Jackson—Sally, Y/N corrected—would know: her son had survived. Olympus was saved.
The gods set about repairing the throne room, which went surprisingly fast with twelve superpowerful beings at work. Y/N, Ethan, Percy and Grover cared for the wounded, and once the sky bridge reformed, they greeted their friends who had survived. 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 Y/N 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.
Nico di Angelo came into Olympus to a hero's welcome, his father right behind him, despite the fact that Hades was only supposed to visit Olympus on winter solstice. The god of the dead looked stunned when his relatives clapped him on the back; he'd probably never gotten such an enthusiastic welcome before.
Clarisse marched in, still shivering from her time in the ice block, and Ares bellowed, "There's my girl!"
The god of war ruffled her hair and pounded her on the back, calling her the best warrior he'd ever seen. "That drakon-slaying? THAT'S what I'm talking about!"
Clarisse looked pretty overwhelmed. All she could do was nod and blink, as if she was afraid he'd start hitting her, but eventually she began to smile.
Hera and Hephaestus passed Y/N, and while Hephaestus was a little grumpy about Y/N's jumping on his throne, he thought Y/N had done "a pretty bang-up job, mostly."
Hera seemed to glow. She put a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Olympus is safe. It wouldn't have been possible without you, Y/N." As she strode over to her throne, Y/N still felt her hand on his shoulder.
Dionysus's head was still wrapped in a bandage. He looked Y/N up and down and said, "Well, Y/N L/N. I see Pollux made it through, so I suppose you aren't completely inept. It's all thanks to my training, I suppose."
"Of course, my Lord," Y/N said, mimicking a bow.
Mr. D nodded. "As thanks for my bravery, Zeus has cut my probation at that miserable camp in half. I now have only fifty years left instead of one hundred."
"Fifty years, huh?" Y/N tried to imagine putting up with Dionysus until he was an old man, assuming he lived that long.
"Don't get so excited, L/N," Dionysus said. "I still plan on making your life miserable."
He couldn't help smiling. "Naturally."
"Just so we understand each other." Dionysus turned and began repairing his grapevine throne, which had been singed by fire.
The army of Poseidon marched into the throne room.
"Percy!" Tyson yelled. He charged toward his brother with open arms. Fortunately he'd shrunk back to normal size, so his hug must be like getting hit by a tractor, not the entire farm.
"You're not dead!" he said.
"Yeah!" Percy agreed. "Amazing, huh?"
Tyson clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"
Behind him, fifty other armored Cyclopes laughed and nodded and gave each other high fives.
"Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"
"Bravest of the Cyclopes!" another bellowed.
Typhon blushed. "Was nothing."
"I saw you!" Percy said. "You were incredible!"
"Cheers for Tyson!" Ethan said.
"YAAARRRRR!" the Cyclopes roared.
The conch horns blasted again. The Cyclopes parted, and Poseidon strode into the throne room in his battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands.
"Tyson!" he roared. "Well done, my son. And Percy—I even forgive you for sitting on my throne. You have saved Olympus!"
He held out his arms and gave Percy a hug.
"POSEIDON!" Zeus roared.
The Lord of the Sky had taken his throne. He glared across the room at Poseidon while all the other gods filed in and took their seats. Even Hades was present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth. Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad's feet.
"Well, Poseidon?" Zeus grumped. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"
"I would be honored, Lord Zeus."
Poseidon walked over to his fishing seat, and the Olympian Council convened.
While Zeus was talking—a long speech about the bravery of the gods, along those lines—Annabeth walked in and stood next to Y/N. She looked good for someone who'd recently passed out.
"Feeling all right?" he asked in an undertone.
"I'm okay," she whispered back. "Miss much?"
"Nobody's planning to kill us, so far."
"First time today."
He grinned.
"As for my brothers," Zeus said, "we are thankful"—he cleared his throat as if the words were hard to get out—"erm, thankful for the aid of Hades."
The Lord of the Dead inclined his head. He had a smug look on his face, but you could say he'd earned the right. He patted Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than Y/N had ever seen him.
"And, of course," Zeus continued, though he looked like his pants were smoldering, "we must . . . um . . . thank Poseidon."
"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon said. "What was that?"
"We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growled. "Without whom . . . it would've been difficult—"
"Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently.
"Impossible," Zeus said. "Impossible to defeat Typhon."
The gods murmured agreement and pounded their weapons in approval.
"Which leaves us," Zeus said, "only the matter of thanking our young demigod heroes, who defended Olympus so well—even if there are a few dents in my throne."
He called Thalia forward first, since she was his daughter, and promised her help in filling the Hunters' ranks.
Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure." She glared pointedly at Hades.
He shrugged. "Probably."
Artemis glared some more.
"Okay," Hades grumbled. "I'll streamline their application process."
Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my Lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and then limped over to stand by Artemis's side.
"Tyson, son of Poseidon!" Zeus called. Tyson looked nervous, but he went to stand in the middle of the Council, and Zeus grunted.
"Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new . . . um . . . what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"
"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.
"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."
"Hooray!" Tyson cried, and all the Cyclopes cheered and pounded him on the back as he rejoined them.
"Grover Underwood and Ethan Moore of the satyrs!" Dionysus called.
They both came forward nervously. Y/N heard Ethan say to Grover, "Stop chewing your shirt. Act like a hero."
"For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah," Dionysus chided, "and since we have unfortunate vacancies, the gods have seen fit to name you members of the Council of Clover Elders."
Grover collapsed on the spot, and he would've fallen to the floor if Ethan hadn't grabbed him by the arm.
"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."
"FOOOOOD," Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away.
Y/N figured he'd be okay. He would wake up as a lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful naiads taking care of him. Life could be worse.
"Sire," Ethan called. "I have a request."
Dionysus rolled his eyes, waving his hand. "Make it quick."
Ethan swallowed. "My Lord, I would like to become mortal."
Silence fell on the throne room.
Y/N felt stunned. Ethan wanted to be a mortal? Why? Well, he didn't like the idea of immortality himself, but Ethan had never really talked about anything like that!
Dionysus frowned. "You, a satyr . . . mortal? What is this nonsense?"
"With all due respect, my Lord, this isn't nonsense at all," Ethan said a bit more confidently. "I wish to go to the Underworld upon my death. I feel it would be much more fun than becoming a plant—no offense to plants intended, of course. I just need to have a mortal soul."
Dionysus glanced questioningly at the other gods, then at Hades, who nodded. "I guess it can be done. Human or satyr, I don't care who's in my realm as long as they're dead."
Dionysus sighed. "Very well, then. Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, Ethan Moore, you shall henceforth be mortal. Thanatos shall take your soul to the Underworld upon your death."
"Thank you, my Lord," Ethan said, bowing very low.
He turned around and came toward Y/N.
"Why did you do that?" Y/N managed to ask, still stunned.
A grin stretched across Ethan's face. "Well, now you're not close to getting rid of me." He laughed. "I don't want you guys to go down there while I'm stuck up here as some random flower."
Y/N still stared at him unbelievingly. This was mad, completely crazy. Very much like Ethan, in fact. He couldn't think of anything but hug him.
Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter."
Annabeth squeezed Y/N's arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet.
Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is . . . well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."
Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My . . . my Lady?"
Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"
"You mean . . . I can design whatever I want?"
"As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."
"As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo added.
"And me," Aphrodite agreed.
"Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and—"
"All right!" Athena interrupted. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus."
Annabeth rose in a trance and walked back toward Y/N.
"So, how does it feel?" he asked her, smiling.
For once she was at a loss for words. "I'll—I'll have to start planning. . . . Drafting paper, and, um, pencils—"
"PERCY JACKSON!" Poseidon announced, the name echoing around the chamber.
All talking died down. The room was silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Everyone's eyes were on Percy. He walked into the middle of the throne room.
First he bowed to Zeus. Then he knelt at his father's feet.
"Rise, my son," Poseidon said.
Percy stood uneasily.
"A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is deserving?"
"The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods."
Percy hesitated. "Any gift?"
Zeus nodded grimly. "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Perseus Jackson—if you wish it—you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time."
Percy looked stunned. "Um . . . a god?"
Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever."
"Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea."
Percy glanced back. Y/N could see the dilemma in his eyes.
Percy looked back at Zeus and said, "No."
The Council was silent. The gods frowned at each other as if they must have misheard.
"No?" Zeus said. "You are . . . turning down our generous gift?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, like a thunderstorm about to erupt.
"I'm honored and everything," Percy said. "Don't get me wrong. It's just . . . I've got a lot of life left to live. I'd hate to peak in my sophomore year."
The gods were glaring at him.
"I do want a gift, though," he went on. "Do you promise to grant my wish?"
Zeus thought about this. "If it is within our power."
"It is," Percy said. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx."
"What?" Dionysus cried. "You don't trust us?"
"Someone once told me," Percy said, looking at Hades, "you should always get a solemn oath."
Hades shrugged. "Guilty."
"Very well!" Zeus growled. "In the name of the Council, we swear by the River Styx to grant your reasonable request as long as it is within our power."
The other gods murmured assent. Thunder boomed, shaking the throne room. The deal was made.
"From now on, I want you to properly recognize the children of the gods," Percy said. "All the children—of all the gods."
The Olympians shifted uncomfortably.
"Percy," Poseidon said, "what exactly do you mean?"
"Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," Percy said. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had good reason."
Zeus's royal nostrils flared. "You dare accuse—"
"No more undetermined children," Percy said. "I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right, and survive."
"Now, wait just a moment," Apollo said, but Percy was on a roll.
"And the minor gods," he said. "Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. The other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned, too. And Hades—"
"Are you calling me a minor god?" Hades bellowed.
"No, my Lord," Percy said quickly. "But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that. No unclaimed demigods will be crammed into the Hermes cabin anymore, wondering who their parents are. They'll have their own cabins, for all the gods. And no more pact of the Big Three. That didn't work anyway. You've got to stop trying to get rid of powerful demigods. We're going to train them and accept them instead. All children of the gods will be welcome and treated with respect. That is my wish."
Zeus snorted. "Is that all?"
"Percy," Poseidon said, "you ask much. You presume much."
"I hold you to your oath," Percy said. "All of you."
He got a lot of steely looks.
Athena spoke up: "The boy is correct. We have been unwise to ignore our children. It proved a strategic weakness in this war and almost caused our destruction. I move that we accept the boy's plan."
"Humph," Zeus said. "Being told what to do by a mere child. But I suppose . . ."
"All in favor," Hermes said.
All the gods raised their hands.
"Um, thanks," Percy said.
Zeus stood up from his throne. "Well, now that we've seen to that—"
"Hum, hum."
Hera was glaring at Zeus with such intensity it was a wonder he could manage to appear as though he hadn't noticed earlier.
He gritted his royal teeth. "Yes, Hera?"
Hera's voice was tightly reined when she spoke. "Husband, you forget my son."
"I forget no one, Hera," Zeus said, sitting back down as if he'd never stood up. "Especially when he stands in front of me."
He looked down upon Y/N, who tried to act as casual as he could. It was pretty hard with the ozone smell that now filled the air around him.
"Y/N L/N," Zeus called.
He stepped forward. Gods, he had nearly died in a fight against six less than two days ago, but he would rather be back there than here now.
"What do you wish for?" Zeus asked.
Y/N blinked. "You mean, I can choose anything? Like Percy?"
"N—" Zeus saw Hera's glare. "Maybe. If all here agree."
Y/N frowned and glanced back. Annabeth was trying hard not to meet his eyes. Her face was pale. He flashed back to two years ago, when he'd thought she was going to take the pledge to Artemis and become a Hunter. He'd been on the edge of a panic attack, thinking that he'd lose her. She looked pretty much the same way he had, now.
He glanced at Hera, his mother. What did she want him to ask for? Immortality? He thought about his dreams, all these things that would happen on some unknown days. He could avoid all that. No fight with the Amphisbaena. No fall in an endless pit. No prison around him. He could be a teenager forever, in top condition, powerful and immortal, serving his mother. He could have power and eternal life.
Who would refuse that?
He was about to open his mouth when his mother raised her hand and said, "Wish for my husband to tell you the reason why he deliberately ignored you—"
"Hera!" Zeus boomed. "No interference! That is the—"
"Law," she finished. "Yes, husband. I know the law, and I know what I can and cannot say. This, I can."
Zeus clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles were white, but he didn't say anything back. Plainly Hera was right, and he hated having to admit it.
"So," Athena said. "What is your wish, Y/N L/N?"
All the gods looked away from their king and queen to look at him.
Y/N refrained from shaking under all these stares. "I want to know why Zeus ignored me, and why he hates me so much. I want answers."
The gods all turned to Zeus, waiting impatiently for his answer to this simple wish.
There was a dangerous edge to Zeus's voice when he spoke, like a thunderstorm about to break. "I already told you. I don't hate you, but I don't like what you'll become either. That is why I tried to strike you down when you were still a child, but your mother stopped me."
"I remember," Ares said. "Wasn't a quiet night, that night. Not quiet at all. A bolt of lightning struck me right as I was coming back from Texas."
"That explains why you've been even dumber than usual in the last few years," Dionysus grumbled.
"Sure that—" Ares hesitated, then roared, "Wait, what?"
"Ares, be quiet," Hera ordered.
Zeus seemed thoughtful. "I wanted to bring everything to an end while I still could."
"Killing a child?" Y/N said indignantly.
"Eliminating what you would become," Zeus rumbled.
"Then what am I going to become?" Y/N asked. "I demand answers to everything you hide from me!"
Zeus glared at him, and the ozone smell kept getting stronger and stronger. He could feel his hair lifting up on the back of his neck. "How dare you speak like—"
"Father," Athena interrupted. "You do owe him the answer."
Zeus glared at her. "You do not know the answer. It is a matter between Hera and me. No one here wants to know about it, believe me."
"Still," Athena said, "no one here disagrees with the idea of you answering his question."
You could have called the expression on Zeus's face a smile only because he showed his teeth. "Very well," he muttered. "But before I tell everything to you, Y/N L/N, know this: You won't live long enough to see it happen."
Y/N swallowed. "What do you mean?"
"Before it happens, the second before you turn sixteen, the Fates will kill you," Zeus explained. "Of course, not literally. They will only cut your thread, killing you metaphysically while something else takes care of your body."
Y/N glanced back. Annabeth held her hand over her mouth, and he knew what she must be thinking. He would be sixteen in less than a year from now. Zeus had just announced his programmed death, on the 3rd of June 2010. How many days was it until then, exactly?
He wanted to collapse and wake up in his bed, inside cabin two, to find all of this had been a dream. But his body wouldn't let him. He remained standing up, still as a statue, and his gaze came back to Zeus.
"W-why?" he asked. "Why will they do it? Why do you despise me so much that you want them to kill me?"
Zeus breathed deeply. "Because else you would become an Olympian god."
There was no thunder, no great booming punctuation to this sentence. There was just deafening silence; the wind seemed to have stopped waving, the ozone smell had disappeared, nobody moved.
And then, all at once:
Apollo blurted, "Wait a minute—!"
"Oh, that's so much better!" Aphrodite said, as if there had been a major plot twist in the middle of her favorite show.
"This is unacceptable!" Hades roared.
"Sitting next to the punk?" Ares bellowed. "NEVER!"
"Maybe we should kill him now that he's standing before us," Demeter suggested.
Poseidon's voice was a rumble, a storm about to break. "Why did you hide such important information from us all, brother?"
"So that's why Mother bore you to the world," Hephaestus said to Y/N, scratching his beard.
"Him being a minor god under his mother's rule, that wouldn't be a problem," Athena said. "But him sitting by our side, that is dangerous. There has never been such a major change—"
"Are you saying my arrival on Olympus wasn't a major change?" Dionysus said.
"—since Hestia offered Dionysus her throne," Athena finished. "Who would have to offer their throne this time?"
Zeus raised his hand, and this time thunder roared and silence came back.
"As I said, this is a matter already dealt with," Zeus said. "We gods cannot interfere in the death of a demigod directly as long as he hasn't come against us, and this one hasn't. But the Fates will do what is necessary to remedy Hera's error."
"This is no error, husband," Hera said curtly.
"Enough!" Zeus shouted, and his voice crashed like thunder across the sky. "If only you had listened to me! A demigod would've posed no problem. But you so wanted to go against me once more, oh, you so wanted it. You had to bear another god, one as powerful as you could, more powerful than you ever had. And when I tried to make him mortal upon his birth, you snatched him away and hid him from my sight until it was too late for me to do anything! Hera, your mistakes are as great as you are!"
"My son will—"
"Your son will not," Zeus said furiously. "There is nothing more to say."
Zeus turned to Y/N, who still stood in the middle of all these gods. No, he hadn't heard correctly. It just couldn't be. Him, an Olympian? That was mad, in the bloody worst way possible. He didn't want immortality, and now it was forced upon him just because he was born. And all these gods wanted to kill him, no exception. Suddenly he wasn't a hero coming to get his prize; he was a problem.
Y/N felt as if his feet had become rooted in the marble floor. The cold and stiffness of the stone crept up his left leg and sent a shiver up his spine. All the gods were looking at him.
"I'm a half-blood," he said for the entire room to hear. "From Vermont. A half-blood."
A god.
"Destiny goes on as it wills," Zeus said, and he could not tell whether there was a touch of mockery in the Lord of the Sky's tone or not.
A/N: Hi! Hope you liked this chapter.
I'm not going to comment on what just happened, so you guys can think about it yourselves and I can enjoy the havoc.
Until next time, happy reading!