[Y/N's POV]
I was so exhausted.
Thankfully, I figured out I still was in the United States... But how far from Long Island I hadn't put together yet.
But I needed to keep going. I needed to get back. That same sensation that guided me back from the midwest all those years ago, it led me.
The sun crested over what I found out were the old towns of Maine. I washed up on their beaches, and endured their chilled winds, even through the day.
I could almost taste the salty, warm air of Long Island in my mind. Every step was another battle. Whatever magic Lou Ellen had unleashed on me was still aching.
I stole a backpack and some food when people weren't looking. I unclipped my bracers, and put them away, along with a few bottles of water I took from a case in a convenience store.
But that wasn't even close to the worst part of it. My silver blade was my lone light in the expansive wilderness of the east coast.
I ran into a hellhound in the forest up there. It was drawn to a wounded demigod, weakened by the ordeals of the last however long it's been. Every swing of my sword was met with the monster's onslaught. Its claws scraped against whatever was behind me as I dodged.
Even in this state, well, really especially in this state, I was a target. With gritted teeth and aching muscles, I plunged my blade into the hellhound, those flickering embers somehow still burning in me.
Maine turned into New Hampshire, which blurred into Vermont. The landscape changed as I trudged south. That tug in my gut, the instinctual pull guiding me where I knew I belonged, was my lone source of direction. The nights and the days blurred together, a fitful effort beneath the sun and the moon.
In Massachusetts, I was ambushed by a flock of Stymphalian birds, their metallic feathers glinting in the moonlight. They tried to test whatever energy I had left, but I kept pulling from somewhere deep within. The sounds made by my blade clattering against my bracer were enough for me to catch the birds off-guard.
Rhode Island was doused in an eerie silence. It was a brief respite between fights that let me breathe for only a moment. My body begged me for a single moment of rest, but if I stopped moving, I wasn't sure if I would start again any time soon.
Connecticut eventually became New York in a haze, the relentless blur of my latest travels etching into the aches of my bones. The roads were like a ribbon threaded beneath my burning feet.
The sights and the sounds became little more than a backdrop to my efforts. The monsters grew in strength and ferocity. I hadn't felt this drained since the labyrinth. But at least now, I knew there was a place I could go to be safe. I just had to get there first.
My vision blurred, the world around me, a spiraling ball of colors, shadows, and danger. I stumbled through New Jersey, the tug in my stomach only increasing in intensity. The cold meant nothing at this point as the sun rose, and I finally felt something familiar.
Finally, after days of travel, Long Island was stretching before me. Half-Blood Hill rose in the distance. It stoked the flames in my spirit, fueling what little was left of my determination. It was almost over. I pushed myself harder still.
The hill came closer and closer, the familiar trek upward exhausting enough on its own, but as it was, it seemed insurmountable. My steps faltered, the incline so steep, it demanded the last of my strength. Every inch of traction I gained felt like a victory against the pain that tried to take me over.
With the last ounce of energy I had left, I pulled myself to the crest of the hill. The familiar sights of the camp laid in the valley before me. The cabins, the strawberry fields, and the shining glint of Long Island sound flashing at me.
But as I looked out in relief, my legs gave out, and I tumbled forward down the hill, the rest of my body failing. And to be honest, the collision into the grass, the morning dew still littering the blades in the early afternoon, it was all so reliving.
Like a kiss to my battered body. I laid there, sprawled on the front lawn of camp, unable to muster the strength to rise. The world around me spun. The bright warmth of the sun melted into my skin.
As I gave into the exhaustion, I heard footsteps headed my way, and a shocked gasp. Someone shouted my name in surprise, and ran off.
I closed my eyes, the sounds of the camp a symphony to my tired body.
[Percy's POV]
If you want to be popular at Camp Half-Blood, don't come back from a mission with bad news.
Word of my arrival spread as soon as I walked out of the ocean. Our beach is on the North Shore of Long Island, and it's enchanted so most people can't even see it. People don't just appear on the beach unless they're demigods or gods or really, really lost pizza delivery guys. (It's happened but that's another story.)
Anyway, that afternoon the lookout on duty was Connor Stoll from the Hermes cabin. When he spotted me, he got so excited he fell out of his tree. Then he blew the conch horn to signal the camp and ran to greet me.
Connor had a crooked smile that matched his crooked sense of humor. He's a pretty nice guy, but you should always keep one hand on your wallet when he's around, and do not, under any circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it.
He's got curly brown hair and is a little shorter than his brother, Travis, which is the only way I can tell them apart. They are both so unlike my old enemy Luke it's hard to believe they're all sons of Hermes.
"Percy!" he yelled. "What happened? Where are Y/N and Beckendorf?"
Then he saw my expression, and his smile melted. "Oh, no. Annabeth and Silena. Holy Zeus, when they find out.."
Together we climbed the sand dunes. A few hundred yards away, people were already streaming toward us, smiling and excited. Percy's back, they were probably thinking. He's saved the day! Maybe he brought souvenirs!
I stopped at the dining pavilion and waited for them. No sense rushing down there to tell them what a loser I was.
I gazed across the valley and tried to remember how Camp Half-Blood looked the first time I ever
saw it. That seemed like a bajillion years ago.
From the dining pavilion, you could see pretty much everything. Hills ringed the valley. On the tallest, Half-Blood Hill, Thalia's pine tree stood with the Golden Fleece hanging from its branches, magically protecting the camp from its enemies.
The guard dragon Peleus was so big now I could see him from here, curled around the tree trunk, lending up smoke signals as he snored.
To my right spread the woods. To my left, the canoe lake glittered and the climbing wall glowed from the lava pouring down its side. Twelve cabins, one for each Olympian god made a horseshoe pattern around the commons area.
Farther south were the strawberry fields, the armory, and the four-story Big House with its sky blue paint job and its bronze eagle weathervane.
In some ways, the camp hadn't changed. But you couldn't see the war by looking at the buildings or the fields. You could see it in the faces of the demigods and satyrs and naiads coming up the hill.
There weren't as many at camp as four summers ago. Some had left and never come back. Some had died fighting. Others, we tried not to talk about them, had gone over to the enemy.
The ones who were still here were battle-hardened and weary. There was little laughter at camp these days. Even the Hermes cabin didn't play so many pranks. It's hard to enjoy practical jokes when your whole life feels like one.
Chiron galloped into the pavilion first, which was easy for him since he's a white stallion from the waist down. His beard had grown wilder over the summer. He wore a green T-shirt that said MY OTHER CAR IS A CENTAUR and a bow slung over his back.
"Percy!" he said. "Thank the gods. But where..." Zoe ran in right behind him, and I'll admit my heart did a little relay race in my chest when I saw her.
She had her black hair down around her shoulders, glinting in the sunlight. She wore a plain green tank top and cargo pants. Her eyes glinted with tears as she looked at me with relief. "Percy!" she shouted, rushing towards me.
She hugged me tight. "What happened? Where-" Then she seemed to realize I was two companions short.
"The ship blew up," I said. "He wasn't destroyed. I don't know where-"
Silena Beauregard pushed through the crowd. Her hair wasn't combed and she wasn't even wearing makeup, which wasn't like her.
"Where's Charlie?" she demanded, looking around like he might be hiding. I glanced at Chiron helplessly.
The old centaur cleared his throat. "Silena, my dear, let's talk about this at the Big House-"
"No," she muttered. "No. No."
She started to cry, and the rest of us stood around, too stunned to speak. We'd already lost so many people over the summer, but this was turning into the worst. With Beckendorf gone, it felt like someone had stolen the anchor for the entire camp.
Finally Clarisse from the Ares cabin came forward. She put her arm around Silena. They had one of the strangest friendships ever.
A daughter of the war god and a daughter of the love goddess, but ever since Silena had given Clarisse advice last summer about her first boyfriend, Clarisse had decided she was Silena's personal bodyguard.
Clarisse was dressed in her blood-red combat armor, her brown hair tucked into a bandana. She was as big and beefy as a rugby player, with a permanent scowl on her face, but she spoke gently to Silena.
"Come on, girl," she said. "Let's get to the Big House. I'll make you some hot chocolate."
That was when it somehow got worse. Annabeth made her way through the crowd. Her blonde hair was tangled like a bird's nest, she looked like she hadn't slept in days, and when she spotted me alone, she didn't even need to ask.
Her expression quivered, and she let out a sob. Beside me, Zoe started to tear up as well. She walked beside Annabeth and pulled her tightly, the two silently processing their emotions.
After all that emotion, everyone turned and wandered off in twos and threes, heading back to the cabins. Nobody was excited to see me now. Nobody wanted to hear about the blown-up ship.
"I don't think he's dead." I muttered. Zoe and Annabeth turned to face me, with tears and shock on their faces. "How could you know that?" Zoe asked. "Because my dad was giving me condolences, and he didn't say Y/N's name... he said that Y/N wasn't in the water anymore, so I figured..."
"That he had to have gotten out somehow." Annabeth stumbled into the realization. There was a collective weight of uncertainty on our shoulders as the two girls collected themselves.
Only Annabeth, Zoe, and Chiron stayed behind after I was spotted and welcomed back with no fanfare. The former hunter wiped a tear from her cheek. "It is good to see you at least, Perseus." she said, hugging me. Annabeth nodded along and weakly hugged me as well. She was shaking.
Zoe smiled when she saw the bracelet wrapped around my wrist. "I pray that thee liked the gift. It was made by my hand." she said, proudly. "Yeah, it's great. I love it." she beamed. Chiron put a hand on my shoulder. "Percy, please give us your version of events. We want to make sure know everything."
I didn't want to go through it again, but I told them the story, including my dream about the Titans. I left out the details about Nico. Nico had made me promise not to tell anybody about his plan until I made up my mind, and the plan was so scary I didn't mind keeping it a secret.
Chiron gazed down at the valley. "We must call a war council immediately, to discuss this spy, and other matters."
"Poseidon mentioned another threat," I said. "Something even bigger than the Princess Andromeda. I thought it might be that challenge the Titan had mentioned in my dream."
Chiron and Annabeth exchanged looks, like they knew something I didn't. I hated when they did that. "We will discuss that also," Chiron promised. "One more thing." I took a deep breath. "When I talked to my father, he said to tell you it's time. I need to know the full prophecy."
Chiron's shoulders sagged, but he didn't look surprised. "I've dreaded this day. Very well. Annabeth, we will show Percy the truth, all of it. Let us go to the attic."
* * *
I'd been to the Big House attic three times before, which was three times more than I wanted to. A ladder led up from the top of the staircase. I wondered how Chiron was going to get up there, being half horse and all, but he didn't try.
"You know where it is," he told Annabeth. "Bring it down, please." She nodded. "Come on, Percy." The sun was setting outside, so the attic was even darker and creepier than usual. Old hero trophies were slacked everywhere, dented shields, pickled heads in jars from various monsters, a pair of fuzzy dice on a bronze plaque
I picked up a curved bronze sword so badly bent it looked like the letter M. I could still see green stains on the metal from the magical poison that used to cover it. The tag was dated last summer. It read: Scimitar of Kampê, destroyed in the Battle of the Labyrinth.
"You remember Briares throwing those boulders?" I asked. Annabeth gave me a grudging smile. "And Grover causing a Panic?" She cleared her throat and looked away. "Prophecy."
"Right." I put down the scimitar. "Prophecy."
We walked over to the window. On a three-legged stool sat the Oracle, a shriveled female mummy m a tie-dyed dress. Tufts of black hair clung to her skull. Glassy eyes stared out of her leathery face. Just looking at her made my skin crawl.
If you wanted to leave camp during the summer, it used to be you had to come up here to get a quest. This summer, that rule had been tossed. Campers left all the time on combat missions. We had no choice if we wanted to stop Kronos.
Still, I remembered too well the strange green mist, the spirit of the Oracle, that lived inside the mummy. She looked lifeless now, but whenever she spoke a prophecy, she moved.
Sometimes fog gushed out of her mouth and created strange shapes. Once, she'd even left the attic and taken a little zombie stroll into the woods to deliver a message. I wasn't sure what she'd do for the "Great Prophecy."
I half expected her to start tap dancing or something. But she just sat there like she was dead, which she was. "I never understood this," I whispered. "What?" Annabeth asked. "Why it's a mummy."
"Percy, she wasn't always a mummy. For thousands of years the spirit of the Oracle lived inside a beautiful maiden. The spirit would be passed on from generation to generation. Chiron told me was alive fifty years ago. But she was the last."
"What happened?" She started to say something, then apparently changed her mind. "Let's dk our job and leave. I don't like this place." I looked nervously at the Oracle's withered face. "So what now?"
Annabeth approached the mummy and held out her palms. "Oh, Oracle, the time is at hand. I ask for the Great Prophecy." I braced myself, but the mummy didn't move. Instead, she approached and unclasped one of its necklaces. I'd never paid too much attention to its jewelry before. I figured it was just hippie love beads and stuff.
But when Annabeth turned toward me, she was holding a leather pouch, like a Native American medicine pouch on a cord braided with feathers. She opened the bag and took out a roll of parchment no bigger than her pinky.
"No way," I said. "You mean all these years, I've been asking about this stupid prophecy, and it's been right there around her neck?"
"The time wasn't right," Annabeth said. "Believe me, Percy. You wouldn't be able to handle this before."
"Great," I said. "Can I read it now?"
"Downstairs at the war council," Annabeth said. "Not in front of..."
I looked at the glassy eyes of the Oracle, and I decided not to argue. We headed downstairs to join the others. I didn't know it then, but it would be the last time I ever visited the attic.
* * *
The senior counselors had gathered around the Ping-Pong table. Don't ask me why, but the rec room had become the camp's informal headquarters for war councils. When Annabeth, Chiron, and I came in, though, it looked more like a shouting match.
Clarisse was still in full battle gear. Her electric spear was strapped to her back. (Actually, her second electric spear, since I'd broken the first one. She called the spear "Maimer." Behind her back, everybody else called it "Lamer.") She had her boar-shaped helmet under one arm and a knife at her belt.
She was in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the new head counselor for Apollo, which looked kind of funny since Clarisse was a foot taller. Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer. Michael stood four feet six, with another two feet of attitude.
He reminded me of a ferret, with a pointy nose and scrunched-up features, either because he scowled so much or because he spent too much time looking down the shaft of an arrow. "It's our loot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!"
Around the table, people were trying not to laugh, the Stoll brothers, Pollux from the Dionysus cabin, Katie Gardner from Demeter. Even Jake Mason, the hastily appointed new counselor from Hephaestus, managed a faint smile.
Only Silena Beauregard didn't pay any attention. She sat beside Clarisse and stared vacantly at the Ping-Pong net. Her eyes were red and puffy. A cup of hot chocolate sat untouched in front of her.
It seemed unfair that she had to be here. I couldn't believe Clarisse and Michael standing over her, arguing about something as stupid as loot, when she'd just lost Beckendorf. "CUT IT OUT!" Zoe yelled.
"What is wrong with you two!" I shouted. Clarisse glowered at me. "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk."
"Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael said. "The only reason I'm here is to support Silena!" Clarisse shouted. "Otherwise I'd be back in my cabin."
"Would thou just get over it!?" Zoe tried to force them to stop in confusion at her old-timey words. "What is going on?" I demanded. Pollux cleared his throat. "Clarisse has refused to speak to any of us, until her, um, issue is resolved. She hasn't spoken for three days."
"It's been wonderful," Travis Stoll said wistfully. "What issue?" I asked. Clarisse turned to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?"
Chiron shuffled his hooves. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters-"
"Sure," Clarisse snapped. "Always more important matters than what Ares needs. We're just supposed to show up and fight when you need us, and not complain!"
"That would be nice," Connor Stoll muttered. Clarisse gripped her knife. "Maybe I should ask Mr. D-"
"As you know," Chiron interrupted, his tone slightly angry now, "our director, Dionysus, is busy with the war. He can't be bothered with this."
"I see," Clarisse said. "And the senior counselors? Are any of you going to side with me?" Nobody was smiling now. None of them met Clarisse's eyes. "Fine." Clarisse turned to Silena.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into this when you've just lost... Anyway, I apologize. To you. Nobody else." Silena didn't seem to register her words.
Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying."
The counselors were all too stunned to say anything as Clarisse stormed out of the room. Finally Michael Yew said, "Good riddance."
"Are you kidding?" Katie Gardner protested. "This is a disaster!"
"She can't be serious," Travis said. "Can she?" Zoe sighed tiredly as she took her spot at the table a next to an empty seat. That's where Y/N would've sat.
Chiron breathed an exhausted huff. "Her pride has been wounded. She'll calm down eventually." But he didn't sound convinced. I wanted to ask what the heck Clarisse was so mad about, but I looked at Annabeth and she mouthed the words I'll tell you later.
"Now," Chiron continued, "if you please, counselors. Percy has brought something I think you should hear. Percy, the Great Prophecy."
Annabeth handed me the parchment. It felt dry and old, and my fingers fumbled with the string. I uncurled the paper, trying not to rip it, and began to read:
"A half-blood of the eldest dogs..."
"Er, Percy?" Annabeth interrupted. "That's gods. Not dogs."
"Oh, right," I said. Being dyslexic is one mark of a demigod, but sometimes I really hate it. The more nervous I am, the worse my reading gets. "A half-blood of the eldest gods... shall reach sixteen against all odds..."
I hesitated, staring at the next lines. A cold feeling started on my fingers as if the paper was freezing. "And see the world in endless sleep, The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."
Suddenly Riptide seemed heavier in my pocket. A cursed blade? Chiron once told me Riptide had brought many people sorrow. Was it possible my own sword could get me killed? And how could the world fall into endless sleep, unless that meant death?
"Percy," Chiron urged. "Read the rest."
"Aided by a hero and monster born of shadow and rage, who battle to write the fate of beings from the eldest age." I surveyed the room. I couldn't think of anyone else that met the criteria. But Y/N wasn't here. I didn't know where he was at all. So if he wasn't the one to fulfill that, I don't even know.
Zoe met my eye line for a moment before shaking her head. "Keep going, Percy." My mouth felt like it was full of sand, but I spoke the last two lines. "A single choice shall... shall end his days. Olympus to per, pursue-"
"Preserve," Annabeth said gently. "It means to save."
"I know what it means," I grumbled. "Olympus to preserve or raze." The room was silent. Finally Connor Stoll said, "Raise is good, isn't it?"
"Not raise," Silena said. Her voice was hollow, but I was startled to hear her speak at all. "R-a-z-e means destroy."
"Obliterate," Annabeth said. "Annihilate. Turn to rubble."
"Got it." My heart felt like lead. "Thanks."
Everybody was looking at me, with concern, or pity, or maybe a little fear. Chiron closed his eyes as if he were saying a prayer. In horse form, his head almost brushed the lights in the rec room.
"You see now, Percy, why we thought it best not to tell you the whole prophecy. You've had enough on your shoulders-"
"Without realizing I was going to die in the end anyway?" I said. "Yeah, I get it." Chiron gazed at me sadly. The guy was three thousand years old. He'd seen hundreds of heroes die.
He might not like it, but he was used to it. He probably knew better than to try to reassure me. "Percy," Annabeth said. "You know prophecies always have double meanings. It might not literally mean you die."
"Sure," I said. "A single choice shall end his days. That has tons of meanings, right?"
"Maybe we can stop it," Jake Mason offered. "The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. Maybe we could find this cursed blade and destroy it. Sounds like Kronos's scythe, right?"
I hadn't thought about that, but it didn't matter if the cursed blade was Riptide or Kronos's scythe. Either way, I doubted we could stop the prophecy. A blade was supposed to reap my soul. As a general rule, I preferred not to have my soul reaped.
"Perhaps we should let Percy think about these lines," Chiron said. "He needs time-"
"No." I folded up the prophecy and shoved it into my pocket. I felt defiant and angry, though I wasn't sure who I was angry with. "I don't need time. If I die, I die. I can't worry about that, right?"
Zoe's hands were shaking a little. She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Let's move on," I said. "We've got other problems. We've got a spy." Michael Yew scowled. "A spy?"
I told them what had happened on the Princess Andromeda, how Kronos had known we were coming, how he'd shown me the silver scythe pendant he'd used to communicate with someone at camp. Silena started to cry again, and Zoe put an arm around her shoulders.
"Well," Connor Stoll said uncomfortably, "we've suspected there might be a spy for years, right? Somebody kept passing information to Luke, like the location of the Golden Fleece a couple of years ago. It must be somebody who knew him well."
Maybe subconsciously, he glanced at Annabeth. She'd known Luke better than anyone, of course, but Connor looked away quickly. "Um, I mean, it could be anybody."
"Yes." Katie Gardner frowned at the Stoll brothers. She'd disliked them ever since they'd decorated the grass roof of the Demeter cabin with chocolate Easter bunnies. "Like one of Luke's siblings." Travis and Connor both started arguing with her.
"Stop!" Silena banged the table so hard her hot chocolate spilled. "Charlie's dead and... and you're all arguing like little kids!" She put her head down and began to sob.
Hot chocolate trickled off the Ping-Pong table. Everybody looked ashamed.
"Silena's right," Michael said at last. "Pointing blame doesn't help anything. We need to pick and choose our battles, and with everything happening, finding the spy isn't going to be easy. Kronos said it was a..." He looked up at me.
"A silver necklace with a scythe charm." I nodded, and continued. "That would probably be the mark of his spy." he grunted. "We need to find this spy before we plan our next operation. Blowing up the Princess Andromeda won't stop Kronos forever."
"No indeed," Chiron said. "In fact his next assault is already on the way." I looked up at him crookedly and scowled. "You mean the 'bigger threat' Poseidon mentioned?" I asked. Annabeth and Chiron looked at him with visible nerves on their faces.
"Percy," Chiron said, "we didn't want to tell you or Y/N until you had both returned to camp. You needed a break... to grieve. To enjoy mortal life-"
"What happened?" I demanded, my voice darker than I had expected it to be. Chiron picked up a bronze goblet from the snack table. He tossed water onto the hot plate where we usually melted nacho cheese.
Steam billowed up, making a rainbow in the fluorescent lights. Chiron fished a golden drachma out of his pouch, tossed it through the mist, and muttered, "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show us the threat."
The mist shimmered. I saw the familiar image of a smoldering volcano, Mount St. Helens. As I watched, the side of the mountain exploded. Fire, ash, and lava rolled out. A newscaster's voice wassaying "-even larger than last year's eruption, and geologists warn that the mountain may not be done."
I knew all about the explosions from last year. That was Y/N. But this one was so much worse. The edge of the mountain tore apart from itself. It collapsed inward, and out spewed smoke and lava.
I felt my heart almost stop beating as a giant form pulled itself free of the volcano. I wasn't even sure if I was seeing this right, but through the ash and the fire... a gigantic humanoid creature so large, it could use the space needle as a toothpick.
The mountain shook, with a terrible trembling, so bad I almost thought the earth was shaking all the way over here in Long Island. I heard a deep rumbling. It sounded guttural. Almost like... he was laughing.
"It's him," I said, my voice weak, barely above a whisper. " It's... Typhon."
The rest of the table stared in horror as Chiron simply nodded. "The most horrible monster of all, the biggest single threat the gods ever faced. He has been freed from under the mountain at last. But this scene is from two days ago. Here is what is happening today."
Chiron waved his hand and the image changed. I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path, ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys.
"Monumental floods," an announcer was saying. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction." The cameras zoomed in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city.
I felt my fingernails dig into the table under me. Anything to keep me from spacing out again. Anything to not freak out in front of everybody. Inside the storm, I could just barely make it out. A dark clawed hand, the size of a walmart.
And I swear... In the corner of my eye... I saw something. A figure. Cloaked in shadow. I couldn't make it out. I really didn't want to.
Typhon's angry roar rolled across the plains like a nuclear blast. Other smaller forms darted through the clouds, circling the monster. I saw flashes of light, and I realized the giant was trying to swat them. I squinted and thought I saw a golden chariot flying into the blackness. Then some kind of huge bird, a monstrous owl, dived in to attack the giant.
"Are those... the gods?" I said.
"Yes, Percy," Chiron said. "They have been fighting him for days now, trying to slow him down. But Typhon is marching forward, toward New York. Toward Olympus."
I let that sink in. "How long until he gets here?"
"Unless the gods can stop him? Perhaps five days. Most of the Olympians are there... except Poseidon, who has a war of his own to fight."
I was still trying to process this. In my tired motions, a year ago in the volcano forge, I had begun the process of freeing the most horrible monster of them all. We'd messed up before... Nothing topped this.
"Who's guarding Olympus?" I asked breathlessly. Connor Stoll shook his head. "If Typhon gets to New York, it won't matter who's guarding Olympus."
"It's a trick," I realized. "We have to warn the gods. Something else is going to happen." Chiron looked at him gravely. "Something worse than Typhon? I hope not."
"We have to defend Olympus," I insisted. "Kronos has another attack planned."
"He did," Travis Stoll reminded me. "But you sunk his ship."
Everyone was looking at me. They wanted some good news. They wanted to believe that at least I'd given them a little bit of hope. They wanted me to lead by example.
I glanced at Annabeth. I could tell we were thinking the same thing: What if the Princess Andromeda was a decoy? What if Kronos let us blow up that ship so we'd relax a bit?
But I wasn't going to say that in front of Silena or Annabeth. Their boyfriends had put their lives on the line for that mission. "Maybe you're right," I said, though I didn't believe it. I tried to imagine how things could get much worse. The gods were in the Midwest fighting a huge monster that had almost defeated them once before.
Poseidon was under siege and losing a war against the sea Titan Oceanus. Kronos was still out there somewhere. Olympus was virtually undefended. The demigods of Camp Half-Blood were on our own with a spy in our midst.
"Well," Chiron said, "I think that's enough for one day."
He waved his hand and the steam dissipated. The stormy battle of Typhon and the gods disappeared. "That's an understatement," I muttered.
At that moment, a little blonde 13 year old girl burst through the door, her breath heavy and her hands on her knees, looking like she'd just sprinted from the top of the hill to over here. It was Annabeth's little sister, Miriam.
"Miss Dawson." Chiron said. "What is it?" he asked. Miriam gathered herself for a moment before pointing outside. "It's Y/N. He's back."
[Annabeth's POV]
Her words hung in the air for a moment, like a powder keg about to blow. Y/N had found his way back to me.
Miriam's breathless announcement set the room in a frenzy, with all the campers still in there clambering to get out of the enclosed space. His survival would be kind of brief light for us after the bleakness of Beckendorf's passing and Typhon's rise. And they all needed to see it for themselves.
I was the first one to get out of the doors but Zoe had hoisted Miriam onto her back and was running right with me. I could barely hold my relief as we sprinted away from the Big House. As much as I loved him, Y/N had a bad habit of making me lose my mind with worry. It wasn't his fault, most of the time. He just gets careless with his own well-being.
Zoe, Miriam, and I were the first to reach the base of the hill. And there he was, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling with no discernible rhythm. I could see from here the burns on his body. He hadn't escaped unharmed, but outside of the clear exhaustion, and the burn marks, he looked fine physically.
Chiron, Percy, and the other head councilors followed shortly after, their expressions a mix of stunned and disbelief. Word had clearly spread quickly, because so many of the other campers were starting to show up and circle around my unconscious boyfriend.
Chiron walked up and knelt down, using his experienced eyes to assess Y/N's condition, trying to figure out just how heavy the toll that this had taken on him was.
He swiftly lifted Y/N's body in his arms and steered him towards the infirmary. The afternoon air held a charge, an echo of things so serious we couldn't put it into words.
The weight of worrying about him had lifted off my shoulder a little. I shared a look with Zoe, a silent acknowledgment of relief and concern for him.
The camp had returned to it's normal routine by that evening, but Zoe and I stood by his bedside the whole time as an Will Solace and Chiron worked magic on Y/N's body, healing his burns.
Unfortunately, Zoe had to return to her camp duties, being the only other member of Cabin 8, but she put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently as she left. She checked in every now and then, but didn't stay.
I knew he'd been gone for a few days, but the time I waited as Y/N laid there in that bed, his body mending itself under Chiron's watch felt like millennia. That was almost worse than not knowing what happened.
I alternated between restless pacing around the room and sitting in a chair at his bedside, silently contemplating everything. I just wanted him to open his eyes. I wanted to make sure this wasn't some cruel trick from Hera. She's been screwing with me all summer, and I hoped even she wouldn't stoop as low to do something like this.
Thanks the gods (besides her big-headedness), the moment arrived, and under the silver glow of his mother's light, his eyes fluttered open.
For only a moment, I paused, looking into the bronze and silver galaxies that were the gateway to his soul. I could see how tired he was, but once the moment fully hit me, I dove on top of him, peppering his face with kisses and mumbling words of relief.
As I sat up, I noticed a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if he hadn't been blown up at all. I felt tears tracking down my face as I let myself collapse onto his chest. His arms snaked around my body and held me tightly to him as I sobbed out my relief.
We didn't need to say anything. The night was peaceful and serene. All the nonsense we'd been through, both separate and together over the last couple of years, we needed little more than each other's company in times like this.
As the night ticked away, Y/N and I settled into a silent togetherness. Everything outside of these walls didn't matter at the moment. His heartbeat thumped in a steady rhythm, lulling me to the edge of sleep.
The silence that hung in the air was peaceful. Y/N's eyes met mine with a faint glow, and as the seconds ran, we laid there together in that bed, embracing the momentary peace that we had.
As we drifted into slumber, I felt him press his lips to the top of my head. He was alive, and for that I was grateful. He was here with me.
How grateful I felt about that, I couldn't put into words. I felt awful for Silena, but I couldn't pretend I wasn't praying that Y/N had still made it out, even after everything that happened.
I settled into his comforting arms. It was like being hugged by a squishy rock. He had the ability to be gentle, while also strong. I could have just let him hold me there for the rest of time.
I laid my head against his chest, his breathing going in time with mine as Hypnos took hold of us that evening.