by Rick Riordan
"Right," I said. "And I'm supposed to believe Kronos would spare the city."
"All he wants is Olympus," Prometheus promised. "The might of the gods is tied to their seats of power. You saw what happened to Poseidon once his undersea palace was attacked."
I winced, remembering how old and decrepit my father looked.
"Yes," Prometheus said sadly. "I know that was hard for you. When Kronos destroys Olympus, the gods will fade. They will become so weak they will be easily defeated. Kronos would rather do this while Typhon has the Olympians distracted in the west. Much easier. Fewer lives lost. But make no mistake, the best you can do is slow us down. The day after tomorrow, Typhon arrives in New York, and you will have no chance at all. The gods and Mount Olympus will still be destroyed, but it will be much messier. Much, much worse for you and your city. Either way, the Titans will rule."
Thalia pounded her fist on the table. "I serve Artemis. The Hunters will fight to our last breath. Percy, you're not seriously going to listen to this slimeball, are you?"
I figured Prometheus was going to blast her, but he just smiled. "Your courage does you credit, Thalia Grace."
Thalia stiffened. "That's my mother's surname. I don't use it."
"As you wish," Prometheus said casually, but I could tell he'd gotten under her skin. I'd never even heard Thalia's last name before. Somehow it made her seem almost normal. Less mysterious and powerful.
"At any rate," the Titan said, "you need not be my enemy. I have always been a helper of mankind."
"That's a load of Minotaur dung," Thalia said. "When mankind first sacrificed to the gods, you tricked them into giving you the best portion. You gave us fire to annoy the gods, not because you cared about us."
Prometheus shook his head. "You don't understand. I helped shape your nature."
A wiggling lump of clay appeared in his hands. He fashioned it into a little doll with legs and arms. The lump man didn't have any eyes, but it groped around the table, stumbling over Prometheus's fingers. "I have been whispering in man's ear since the beginning of your existence. I represent your curiosity, your sense of exploration, your inventiveness. Help me save you, Percy. Do this, and I will give mankind a new gift—a new revelation that will move you as far forward as fire did. You can't make that kind of advance under the gods. They would never allow it. But this could be a new golden age for you. Or . . ." He made a fist and smashed the clay man into a pancake.
The blue giant rumbled, "Uh-oh." Over at the park bench, the empousa bared her fangs in a smile.
"Percy, you know the Titans and their offspring are not all bad," Prometheus said. "You've met Calypso."
My face felt hot. "That's different."
"How? Much like me, she did nothing wrong, and yet she was exiled forever simply because she was Atlas's daughter. We are not your enemies. Don't let the worst happen," he pleaded. "We offer you peace."
I looked at Ethan Nakamura. "You must hate this."
"I don't know what you mean."
"If we took this deal, you wouldn't get revenge. You wouldn't get to kill us all. Isn't that what you want?"
His good eye flared. "All I want is respect, Jackson. The gods never gave me that. You wanted me to go to your stupid camp, spend my time crammed into the Hermes cabin because I'm not important? Not even recognized?"
He sounded just like Luke when he'd tried to kill me in the woods at camp four years ago. The memory made my hand ache where the pit scorpion had stung me.
"Your mom's the goddess of revenge," I told Ethan. "We should respect that?"
"Nemesis stands for balance! When people have too much good luck, she tears them down."
"Which is why she took your eye?"
"It was payment," he growled. "In exchange, she swore to me that one day I would tip the balance of power. I would bring the minor gods respect. An eye was a small price to pay."
"Great mom."
"At least she keeps her word, unlike the Olympians. She always pays her debts—good or evil."
"Yeah," I said. "So I saved your life, and you repaid me by raising Kronos. That's fair."
Ethan grabbed the hilt of his sword, but Prometheus stopped him.
"Now, now," the Titan said. "We're on a diplomatic mission."
Prometheus studied me as if trying to understand my anger. Then he nodded like he'd just picked a thought from my brain.
"It bothers you what happened to Luke," he decided. "Hestia didn't show you the full story. Perhaps if you understood . . ."
The Titan reached out.
Thalia cried a warning, but before I could react, Prometheus's index finger touched my forehead.
* * *
Suddenly I was back in May Castellan's living room. Candles flickered on the fireplace mantel, reflected in the mirrors along the walls. Through the kitchen doorway I could see Thalia sitting at the table while Ms. Castellan bandaged her wounded leg. Seven-year-old Annabeth sat next to her, playing with a Medusa beanbag toy.
Hermes and Luke stood apart in the living room.
The god's face looked liquid in the candlelight, like he couldn't decide what shape to adopt. He was dressed in a navy blue jogging outfit with winged Reeboks.
"Why show yourself now?" Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense, as if he expected a fight. "All these years I've been calling to you, praying you'd show up, and nothing. You left me with her." He pointed toward the kitchen like he couldn't bear to look at his mother, much less say her name.
"Luke, do not dishonor her," Hermes warned. "Your mother did the best she could. As for me, I could not interfere with your path. The children of the gods must find their own way."
"So it was for my own good. Growing up on the streets, fending for myself, fighting monsters."
"You're my son," Hermes said. "I knew you had the ability. When I was only a baby, I crawled from my cradle and set out for—"
"I'm not a god! Just once, you could've said something. You could've helped when"—he took an unsteady breath, lowering his voice so no one in the kitchen could overhear—"when she was having one of her fits, shaking me and saying crazy things about my fate. When I used to hide in the closet so she wouldn't find me with those . . . those glowing eyes. Did you even care that I was scared? Did you even know when I finally ran away?"
In the kitchen, Ms. Castellan chattered aimlessly, pouring Kool-Aid for Thalia and Annabeth as she told them stories about Luke as a baby. Thalia rubbed her bandaged leg nervously. Annabeth glanced into the living room and held up a burned cookie for Luke to see. She mouthed, Can we go now?
"Luke, I care very much," Hermes said slowly, "but gods must not interfere directly in mortal affairs. It is one of our Ancient Laws. Especially when your destiny . . ." His voice trailed off. He stared at the candles as if remembering something unpleasant.
"What?" Luke asked. "What about my destiny?"
"You should not have come back," Hermes muttered. "It only upsets you both. However, I see now that you are getting too old to be on the run without help. I'll speak with Chiron at Camp Half-Blood and ask him to send a satyr to collect you."
"We're doing fine without your help," Luke growled. "Now, what were you saying about my destiny?"
The wings on Hermes's Reeboks fluttered restlessly. He studied his son like he was trying to memorize his face, and suddenly a cold feeling washed through me. I realized Hermes knew what May Castellan's mutterings meant. I wasn't sure how, but looking at his face I was absolutely certain. Hermes understood what would happen to Luke someday, how he would turn evil.
"My son," he said, "I'm the god of travelers, the god of loads. If I know anything, I know that you must walk your own path, even though it tears my heart."
"You don't love me."
"I promise I . . . I do love you. Go to camp. I will see that you get a quest soon. Perhaps you can defeat the Hydra, or steal the apples of Hesperides. You will get a chance to be a great hero before . . ."
"Before what?" Luke's voice was tremb
ling now. "What did my mom see that made her like this? What's going to happen to me? If you love me, tell me."
Hermes's expression tightened. "I cannot."
"Then you don't care!" Luke yelled.
In the kitchen, the talking died abruptly.
"Luke?" May Castellan called. "Is that you? Is my boy all right?"
Luke turned to hide his face, but I could see the tears in his eyes. "I'm fine. I have a new family. I don't need either of you."
"I'm your father," Hermes insisted.
"A father is supposed to be around. I've never even met you. Thalia, Annabeth, come on! We're leaving!"
"My boy, don't go!" May Castellan called after him. "I have your lunch ready!"
Luke stormed out the door, Thalia and Annabeth scrambling after him. May Castellan tried to follow, but Hermes held her back.
As the screen door slammed, May collapsed in Hermes's arms and began to shake. Her eyes opened—glowing green—and she clutched desperately at Hermes's shoulders.
"My son," she hissed in a dry voice. "Danger. Terrible fate!"
"I know, my love," Hermes said sadly. "Believe me, I know."
The image faded. Prometheus pulled his hand away from my forehead.
"Percy?" Thalia asked. "What . . . what was that?"
I realized I was clammy with sweat.
Prometheus nodded sympathetically. "Appalling, isn't it? The gods know what is to come, and yet they do nothing, even for their children. How long did it take for them to tell you your prophecy, Percy Jackson? Don't you think your father knows what will happen to you?"
I was too stunned to answer.
"Perrrcy," Grover warned, "he's playing with your mind. Trying to make you angry."
Grover could read emotions, so he probably knew Prometheus was succeeding.
"Do you really blame your friend Luke?" the Titan asked me. "And what about you, Percy? Will you be controlled by your fate? Kronos offers you a much better deal."
I clenched my fists. As much as I hated what Prometheus had shown me, I hated Kronos a lot more. "I'll give you a deal. Tell Kronos to call off his attack, leave Luke Castellan's body, and return to the pits of Tartarus. Then maybe I won't have to destroy him,"
The empousa snarled. Her hair erupted in fresh flames, but Prometheus just sighed.
"If you change your mind," he said, "I have a gift for you."
A Greek vase appeared on the table. It was about three feet high and a foot wide, glazed with black-and-white geometric designs. The ceramic lid was fastened with a leather harness.
Grover whimpered when he saw it.
Thalia gasped. "That's not—"
"Yes," Prometheus said. "You recognize it."
Looking at the jar, I felt a strange sense of fear, but I had no idea why.
"This belonged to my sister-in-law," Prometheus explained. "Pandora."
A lump formed in my throat. "As in Pandora's box?"
Prometheus shook his head. "I don't know how this box business got started. It was never a box. It was a pithos, a storage jar. I suppose Pandora's pithos doesn't have the same ring to it, but never mind that. Yes, she did open this jar, which contained most of the demons that now haunt mankind—fear, death, hunger, sickness."
"Don't forget me," the empousa purred.
"Indeed," Prometheus conceded. "The first empousa was also trapped in this jar, released by Pandora. But what I find curious about the story—Pandora always gets the blame. She is punished for being curious. The gods would have you believe that this is the lesson: mankind should not explore. They should not ask questions. They should do what they are told. In truth, Percy, this jar was a trap designed by Zeus and the other gods. It was revenge on me and my entire family—my poor simple brother Epimetheus and his wife Pandora. The gods knew she would open the jar. They were willing to punish the entire race of humanity along with us."
I thought about my dream of Hades and Maria di Angelo. Zeus had destroyed an entire hotel to eliminate two demigod children—just to save his own skin, because he was scared of a prophecy. He'd killed an innocent woman and probably hadn't lost any sleep over it. Hades was no better. He wasn't powerful enough to take his revenge on Zeus, so he cursed the Oracle, dooming a young girl to a horrible fate. And Hermes . . . why had he abandoned Luke? Why hadn't he at least warned Luke, or tried to raise him better so he wouldn't turn evil?
Maybe Prometheus was toying with my mind.
But what if he's right? part of me wondered. How are the gods any better than the Titans?
Prometheus tapped the lid of Pandora's jar. "Only one spirit remained inside when Pandora opened it."
"Hope," I said.
Prometheus looked pleased. "Very good, Percy. Elpis, the Spirit of Hope, would not abandon humanity. Hope does not leave without being given permission. She can only be released by a child of man."
The Titan slid the jar across the table.
"I give you this as a reminder of what the gods are like," he said. "Keep Elpis, if you wish. But if you decide that you have seen enough destruction, enough futile suffering, then open the jar. Let Elpis go. Give up Hope, and I will know that you are surrendering. I promise Kronos will be lenient. He will spare the survivors."
I stared at the jar and got a very bad feeling. I figured Pandora had been completely ADHD, like me. I could never leave things alone. I didn't like temptation. What if this was my choice? Maybe the prophecy all came down to my keeping this jar closed or opening it.
"I don't want the thing," I growled.
"Too late," Prometheus said. "The gift is given. It cannot be taken back."
He stood. The empousa came forward and slipped her arm through his.
"Morrain!" Prometheus called to the blue giant. "We are leaving. Get your flag."
"Uh-oh," the giant said.
"We will see you soon, Percy Jackson," Prometheus promised. "One way or another."
Ethan Nakamura gave me one last hateful look. Then the truce party turned and strolled up the lane through Central Park, like it was just a regular sunny Sunday afternoon.
FOURTEEN
PIGS FLY
Back at the Plaza, Thalia pulled me aside. "What did Prometheus show you?"
Reluctantly, I told her about the vision of May Castellan's house. Thalia rubbed her thigh like she was remembering the old wound.
"That was a bad night," she admitted. "Annabeth was so little, I don't think she really understood what she saw. She just knew Luke was upset."
I looked out the hotel windows at Central Park. Small fires were still burning in the north, but otherwise the city seemed unnaturally peaceful. "Do you know what happened to May Castellan? I mean—"
"I know what you mean," Thalia said. "I never saw her have an, um, episode, but Luke told me about the glowing eyes, the strange things she would say. He made me promise never to tell. What caused it, I have no idea. If Luke knew, he never told me."
"Hermes knew," I said. "Something caused May to see parts of Luke's future, and Hermes understood what would happen—how Luke would turn into Kronos."
Thalia frowned. "You can't be sure of that. Remember Prometheus was manipulating what you saw, Percy, showing you what happened in the worst possible light. Hermes did love Luke. I could tell just by looking at his face. And Hermes was there that night because he was checking up on May, taking care of her. He wasn't all bad."
"It's still not right," I insisted. "Luke was just a little kid. Hermes never helped him, never stopped him from running away."
Thalia shouldered her bow. Again it struck me how much stronger she looked now that she'd stopped aging. You could almost see a silvery glow around her—the blessing of Artemis.
"Percy," she said, "you can't start feeling sorry for Luke. We all have tough things to deal with. All demigods do. Our parents are hardly ever around. But Luke made bad choices. Nobody forced him to do that. In fact—"
She glanced down the hall to make sure we were alone. "I'm worried about Annabeth. If
she has to face Luke in battle, I don't know if she can do it. She's always had a soft spot for him."
Blood rose to my face. "She'll do fine."
"I don't know. After that night, after we left his mom's house? Luke was never the same. He got reckless and moody, like he had something to prove. By the time Grover found us and tried to get us to camp . . . well, part of the reason we had so much trouble was because Luke wouldn't be careful. He wanted to pick a fight with every monster we crossed. Annabeth didn't see that as a problem. Luke was her hero. She only understood that his parents had made him sad, and she got very defensive of him. She still is defensive. All I'm saying . . . don't you fall into the same trap. Luke has given himself to Kronos now. We can't afford to be soft on him."
I looked out at the fires in Harlem, wondering how many sleeping mortals were in danger right now because of Luke's bad choices.
"You're right," I said.
Thalia patted my shoulder. "I'm going to check on the Hunters, then get some more sleep before nightfall. You should crash too."
"The last thing I need is more dreams."
"I know, believe me." Her dark expression made me wonder what she'd been dreaming about. It was a common demigod problem: the more dangerous our situation became, the worse and more frequent our dreams got. "But Percy, there's no telling when you'll get another chance for rest. It's going to be a long night—maybe our last night."
I didn't like it, but I knew she was right. I nodded wearily and gave her Pandora's jar. "Do me a favor. Lock this in the hotel vault, will you? I think I'm allergic to pithos."
Thalia smiled. "You got it."
I found the nearest bed and passed out. But of course sleep only brought more nightmares.
I saw the undersea palace of my father. The enemy army was closer now, entrenched only a few hundred yards outside the palace. The fortress walls were completely destroyed. The temple my dad had used as his headquarters was burning with Greek fire.
I zoomed in on the armory, where my brother and some other Cyclopes were on lunch break, eating from huge jars of Skippy extra-chunky peanut butter (and don't ask me how it tasted underwater, because I don't want to know). As I watched, the outer wall of the armory exploded. A Cyclops warrior stumbled inside, collapsing on the lunch table. Tyson knelt down to help, but it was too late. The Cyclops dissolved into sea silt.