by Rick Riordan
He stared down at his bloody foot. ‘The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. My mother, Thetis, held me there when she dipped me in the Styx. What really killed me was my own arrogance. Beware! Turn back!’
He meant it. I could hear the regret and bitterness in his voice. He was honestly trying to save me from a terrible fate.
Then again, Luke had been here, and he hadn’t turned back.
That’s why Luke had been able to host the spirit of Kronos without his body disintegrating. This is how he’d prepared himself, and why he seemed impossible to kill. He had bathed in the River Styx and taken on the powers of the greatest mortal hero, Achilles. He was invincible.
‘I have to,’ I said. ‘Otherwise I don’t stand a chance.’
Achilles lowered his head. ‘Let the gods witness I tried. Hero, if you must do this, concentrate on your mortal point. Imagine one spot of your body that will remain vulnerable. This is the point where your soul will anchor your body to the world. It will be your greatest weakness, but also your only hope. No man may be completely invulnerable. Lose sight of what keeps you mortal, and the River Styx will burn you to ashes. You will cease to exist.’
‘I don’t suppose you could tell me Luke’s mortal point?’
He scowled. ‘Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!’
With that happy thought, he vanished.
‘Percy,’ Nico said, ‘maybe he’s right.’
‘This was your idea.’
‘I know, but now that we’re here –’
‘Just wait on the shore. If anything happens to me … Well, maybe Hades will get his wish, and you’ll be the child of the prophecy after all.’
He didn’t look pleased about that, but I didn’t care.
Before I could change my mind, I concentrated on the small of my back – a tiny point just opposite my navel. It was well defended when I wore my armour. It would be hard to hit by accident, and few enemies would aim for it on purpose. No place was perfect, but this seemed right to me, and a lot more dignified than, like, my armpit or something.
I pictured a string – a bungee cord connecting me to the world from the small of my back. And I stepped into the river.
Imagine jumping into a pit of boiling acid. Now multiply that pain times fifty. You still won’t be close to understanding what it felt like to swim in the Styx. I planned to walk in slow and courageous like a real hero. As soon as the water touched my legs, my muscles turned to jelly and I fell face first into the current.
I submerged completely. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t breathe underwater. I finally understood the panic of drowning. Every nerve in my body burned. I was dissolving in the water. I saw faces – Rachel, Grover, Tyson, my mother – but they faded as soon as they appeared.
‘Percy,’ my mom said. ‘I give you my blessing.’
‘Be safe, brother!’ Tyson pleaded.
‘Enchiladas!’ Grover said. I wasn’t sure where that came from, but it didn’t seem to help much.
I was losing the fight. The pain was too much. My hands and feet were melting into water, my soul being ripped from my body. I couldn’t remember who I was. The pain of Kronos’s scythe had been nothing compared to this.
The cord, a familiar voice said. Remember your lifeline, dummy!
Suddenly there was a tug in my lower back. The current pulled at me, but it wasn’t carrying me away any more. I imagined the string in my back, keeping me tied to the shore.
‘Hold on, Seaweed Brain.’ It was Annabeth’s voice, much clearer now. ‘You’re not getting away from me that easily.’
The cord strengthened.
I could see Annabeth now – standing barefoot above me on the canoe-lake pier. I’d fallen out of my canoe. That was it. She was reaching out her hand to haul me up, and she was trying not to laugh. She wore her orange camp T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was tucked up in her Yankees cap, which was strange, because that should have made her invisible.
‘You are such an idiot sometimes.’ She smiled. ‘Come on. Take my hand.’
Memories came flooding back to me – sharper and more colourful. I stopped dissolving. My name was Percy Jackson. I reached up and took Annabeth’s hand.
Suddenly I burst out of the river. I collapsed on the sand and Nico scrambled back in surprise.
‘Are you okay?’ he stammered. ‘Your skin. Oh, gods. You’re hurt!’
My arms were bright red. I felt like every inch of my body had been broiled over a slow flame.
I looked around for Annabeth, though I knew she wasn’t here. It had seemed so real.
‘I’m fine … I think.’ The colour of my skin turned back to normal. The pain subsided. Mrs O’Leary came up and sniffed me with concern. Apparently, I smelled really interesting.
‘Do you feel stronger?’ Nico asked.
Before I could decide what I felt, a voice boomed, ‘THERE!’
An army of the dead marched towards us. A hundred skeletal Roman legionnaires led the way with shields and spears. Behind them came an equal number of British redcoats with bayonets fixed. In the middle of the host, Hades himself rode a black-and-gold chariot pulled by nightmare horses, their eyes and manes smouldering with fire.
‘You will not escape me this time, Percy Jackson!’ Hades bellowed. ‘Destroy him!’
‘Father, no!’ Nico shouted, but it was too late. The front line of Roman zombies lowered their spears and advanced.
Mrs O’Leary growled and got ready to pounce. Maybe that’s what set me off. I didn’t want them hurting my dog. Plus I was tired of Hades being a big bully. If I were going to die, I might as well go down fighting.
I yelled and the River Styx exploded. A black tidal wave smashed into the legionnaires. Spears and shields flew everywhere. Roman zombies began to dissolve, smoke coming off their bronze helmets.
The redcoats lowered their bayonets, but I didn’t wait for them. I charged.
It was stupidest thing I’ve ever done. A hundred muskets fired at me – point blank. All of them missed. I crashed into their line and started hacking with Riptide. Bayonets jabbed. Swords slashed. Guns reloaded and fired. Nothing touched me.
I whirled through the ranks, slashing redcoats to dust one after the other. My mind went on autopilot: stab, dodge, cut, deflect, roll. Riptide was no longer a sword. It was an arc of pure destruction.
I broke through the enemy line and leaped into the black chariot. Hades raised his staff. A bolt of dark energy shot towards me, but I deflected it off my blade and slammed into him. The god and I both tumbled out of the chariot.
The next thing I knew, my knee was planted on Hades’ chest. I was holding the collar of his royal robes in one fist, and the tip of my sword was poised right over his face.
Silence. The army did nothing to defend their master. I glanced back and realized why. There was nothing left of them but weapons in the sand and piles of smoking, empty uniforms. I had destroyed them all.
Hades swallowed. ‘Now, Jackson, listen here …’
He was immortal. There was no way I could kill him, but gods can be wounded. I knew that firsthand, and I figured a sword in the face wouldn’t feel too good.
‘Just because I’m a nice person,’ I snarled, ‘I’ll let you go. But first, tell me about that trap!’
Hades melted into nothing, leaving me holding empty black robes.
I cursed and got to my feet, breathing heavily. Now that the danger was over, I realized how tired I was. Every muscle in my body ached. I looked down at my clothes. They were slashed to pieces and full of bullet holes, but I was fine. Not a mark on me.
Nico’s mouth hung open. ‘You just … with a sword … you just –’
‘I think the river thing worked,’ I said.
‘Oh, gee,’ he said sarcastically. ‘You think?’
Mrs O’Leary barked happily and wagged her tail. She bounded around, sniffing empty uniforms and hunting for bones. I lifted Hades’ robe. I
could still see the tormented faces shimmering in the fabric.
I walked to the edge of the river. ‘Be free.’
I dropped the robe in the water and watched as it swirled away, dissolving in the current.
‘Go back to your father,’ I told Nico. ‘Tell him he owes me for letting him go. Find out what’s going to happen to Mount Olympus and convince him to help.’
Nico stared at me. ‘I – I can’t. He’ll hate me now. I mean … even more.’
‘You have to,’ I said. ‘You owe me, too.’
His ears turned red. ‘Percy, I told you I was sorry. Please … let me come with you. I want to fight.’
‘You’ll be more help down here.’
‘You mean you don’t trust me any more,’ he said miserably.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what I meant. I was too stunned by what I’d just done in battle to think clearly.
‘Just go back to your father,’ I said, trying not to sound too harsh. ‘Work on him. You’re the only person who might be able to get him to listen.’
‘That’s a depressing thought.’ Nico sighed. ‘All right. I’ll do my best. Besides, he’s still hiding something from me about my mom. Maybe I can find out what.’
‘Good luck. Now Mrs O’Leary and I have to go.’
‘Where?’ Nico said.
I looked at the cave entrance and thought about the long climb back to the world of the living. ‘To get this war started. It’s time I found Luke.’
9 Two Snakes Save My Life
I love New York. You can pop out of the Underworld in Central Park, hail a taxi, head down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping along behind you and nobody even looks at you funny.
Of course, the Mist helped. People probably couldn’t see Mrs O’Leary, or maybe they thought she was a large, loud, very friendly truck.
I took the risk of using my mom’s cell phone to call Annabeth for the second time. I’d called her once from the tunnel, but only reached her voice mail. I’d had surprisingly good reception, seeing as I was at the mythological centre of the world and all, but I didn’t want to see what my mom’s roaming charges were going to be.
This time, Annabeth picked up.
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘You get my message?’
‘Percy, where have you been? Your message said almost nothing! We’ve been worried sick!’
‘I’ll fill you in later,’ I said, though how I was going to do that I had no idea. ‘Where are you?’
‘We’re on our way like you asked, almost to the Queens Midtown Tunnel. But, Percy, what are you planning? We’ve left the camp virtually undefended and there’s no way the gods –’
‘Trust me,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you there.’
I hung up. My hands were trembling. I wasn’t sure if it was a leftover reaction from my dip in the Styx, or anticipation of what I was about to do. If this didn’t work, being invulnerable wasn’t going to save me from getting blasted to bits.
It was late afternoon when the taxi dropped me at the Empire State Building. Mrs O’Leary bounded up and down Fifth Avenue, licking cabs and sniffing hot-dog carts. Nobody seemed to notice her, although people did swerve away and look confused when she came close.
I whistled her to heel as three white vans pulled up to the kerb. They said Delphi Strawberry Service, which was the cover name for Camp Half-Blood. I’d never seen all three vans in the same place at once, though I knew they shuttled our fresh produce into the city.
The first van was driven by Argus, our many-eyed security chief. The other two were driven by harpies, which are basically demonic human/chicken hybrids with bad attitudes. We used the harpies mostly for cleaning camp, but they did pretty well in midtown traffic, too.
The doors slid open. A bunch of campers climbed out, some of them looking a little green from the long drive. I was glad so many had come: Pollux, Silena Beauregard, the Stoll brothers, Michael Yew, Jake Mason, Katie Gardner and Annabeth, along with most of their siblings. Chiron came out of the van last. His horse half was compacted into his magic wheelchair, so he used the handicap lift. The Ares cabin wasn’t here, but I tried not to get too angry about that. Clarisse was a stubborn idiot. End of story.
I did a head count: forty campers in all.
Not many to fight a war, but it was still the largest group of half-bloods I’d ever seen gathered in one place outside camp. Everyone looked nervous, and I understood why. We were probably sending out so much demigod aura that every monster in the north-east United States knew we were here.
As I looked at their faces – all these campers I’d known for so many summers – a nagging voice whispered in my mind: One of them is a spy.
But I couldn’t dwell on that. They were my friends. I needed them.
Then I remembered Kronos’s evil smile. You can’t count on friends. They will always let you down.
Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder – ready for stabbing or surfing the internet, whichever came first.
She frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘What’s what?’ I asked.
‘You’re looking at me funny.’
I realized I was thinking about my strange vision of Annabeth pulling me out of the Styx River. ‘It’s, uh, nothing.’ I turned to the rest of the group. ‘Thanks for coming, everybody. Chiron, after you.’
My old mentor shook his head. ‘I came to wish you luck, my boy. But I make it a point never to visit Olympus unless I am summoned.’
‘But you’re our leader.’
He smiled. ‘I am your trainer, your teacher. That is not the same as being your leader. I will go gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help. Meanwhile, you called the campers here, Percy. You are the leader.’
I wanted to protest, but everybody was looking at me expectantly, even Annabeth.
I took a deep breath. ‘Okay, like I told Annabeth on the phone, something bad is going to happen by tonight. Some kind of trap. We’ve got to get an audience with Zeus and convince him to defend the city. Remember, we can’t take no for an answer.’
I asked Argus to watch Mrs O’Leary, which neither of them looked happy about.
Chiron shook my hand. ‘You’ll do well, Percy. Just remember your strengths and beware your weaknesses.’
It sounded eerily close to what Achilles had told me. Then I remembered Chiron had taught Achilles. That didn’t exactly reassure me, but I nodded and tried to give him a confident smile.
‘Let’s go,’ I told the campers.
A security guard was sitting behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a flower on the cover. He glanced up when we all filed in with our weapons and armour clanking. ‘School group? We’re about to close up.’ ‘No,’ I said. ‘Six-hundredth floor.’
He checked us out. His eyes were pale blue and his head was completely bald. I couldn’t tell if he was human or not, but he seemed to notice our weapons, so I guess he wasn’t fooled by the Mist.
‘There is no six-hundredth floor, kid.’ He said it like it was a required line he didn’t believe. ‘Move along.’
I leaned across the desk. ‘Forty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want us hanging out in your lobby?’
He thought about that. Then he hit a buzzer and the security gate swung open. ‘Make it quick.’
‘You don’t want us going through the metal detectors,’ I added.
‘Um, no,’ he agreed. ‘Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way.’
I tossed him a golden drachma and we marched through.
We decided it would take two trips to get everybody up in the elevator. I went with the first group. Different elevator music was playing since my last visit – that old disco song ‘Stayin’ Alive’. A terrifying image flashed through my mind of Apollo in bellbottom trousers and a slinky silk shirt.
I was glad when the e
levator doors finally dinged open. In front of us, a path of floating stones led through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering two thousand metres over Manhattan.
I’d seen Olympus several times, but it still took my breath away. The mansions glittered gold and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloomed on a hundred terraces. Scented smoke rose from braziers that lined the winding streets. And right at the top of the snow-capped crest rose the main palace of the gods. It looked as majestic as ever, but something seemed wrong. Then I realized the mountain was silent – no music, no voices, no laughter.
Annabeth studied me. ‘You look … different,’ she decided. ‘Where exactly did you go?’
The elevator doors opened again and the second group of half-bloods joined us.
‘Tell you later,’ I said. ‘Come on.’
We made our way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops were closed. The parks were empty. A couple of muses sat on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but their hearts didn’t seem to be into it. A lone Cyclops swept the street with an uprooted oak tree. A minor godling spotted us from a balcony and ducked inside, closing his shutters.
We passed under a big marble archway with statues of Zeus and Hera on either side. Annabeth made a face at the queen of the gods.
‘Hate her,’ she muttered.
‘Has she been cursing you or something?’ I asked. Last year Annabeth had got on Hera’s bad side, but Annabeth hadn’t really talked about it since.
‘Just little stuff so far,’ she said. ‘Her sacred animal is the cow, right?’
‘Right.’
‘So she sends cows after me.’
I tried not to smile. ‘Cows? In San Francisco?’
‘Oh, yeah. Usually I don’t see them, but the cows leave me little presents all over the place – in our backyard, on the sidewalk, in the school hallways. I have to be careful where I step.’
‘Look!’ Pollux cried, pointing towards the horizon. ‘What is that?’
We all froze. Blue lights were streaking across the evening sky towards Olympus like tiny comets. They seemed to be coming from all over the city, heading straight towards the mountain. As they got close, they fizzled out. We watched them for several minutes and they didn’t seem to do any damage, but still it was strange.
