Percy Jackson: The Complete Series (Books 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

by Rick Riordan

  In the firelight, the thrones cast evil-looking shadows, like grasping hands.

  Standing at the foot of Zeus’s throne, looking up at the stars, was Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She was holding a Greek ceramic vase.

  ‘Rachel?’ I said. ‘Um, what are you doing with that?’

  She focused on me as if she were coming out of a dream. ‘I found it. It’s Pandora’s jar, isn’t it?’

  Her eyes were brighter than usual, and I had a bad flashback of mouldy sandwiches and burnt cookies.

  ‘Please put down the jar,’ I said.

  ‘I can see Hope inside it.’ Rachel ran her fingers over the ceramic designs. ‘So fragile.’

  ‘Rachel.’

  My voice seemed to bring her back to reality. She held out the jar and I took it. The clay felt as cold as ice.

  ‘Grover,’ Annabeth mumbled. ‘Let’s scout around the palace. Maybe we can find some extra Greek fire or Hephaestus traps.’

  ‘But –’

  Annabeth elbowed him.

  ‘Right!’ he yelped. ‘I love traps!’

  She dragged him out of the throne room.

  Over by the fire, Hestia was huddled in her robes, rocking back and forth.

  ‘Come on,’ I told Rachel. ‘I want you to meet someone.’

  We sat next to the goddess.

  ‘Lady Hestia,’ I said.

  ‘Hello, Percy Jackson,’ the goddess murmured. ‘Getting colder. Harder to keep the fire going.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘The Titans are near.’

  Hestia focused on Rachel. ‘Hello, my dear. You’ve come to our hearth at last.’

  Rachel blinked. ‘You’ve been expecting me?’

  Hestia held out her hands and the coals glowed. I saw images in the fire: my mother, Paul and I eating Thanksgiving dinner at the kitchen table; my friends and me around the campfire at Camp Half-Blood, singing songs and roasting marshmallows; Rachel and me driving along the beach in Paul’s Prius.

  I didn’t know if Rachel saw the same images, but the tension went out of her shoulders. The warmth of the fire seemed to spread across her.

  ‘To claim your place at the hearth,’ Hestia told her, ‘you must let go of your distractions. It is the only way you will survive.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘I – I understand.’

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘What is she talking about?’

  Rachel took a shaky breath. ‘Percy, when I came here … I thought I was coming for you. But I wasn’t. You and me …’ She shook her head.

  ‘Wait. Now I’m a distraction? Is this because I’m “not the hero” or whatever?’

  ‘I’m not sure I can put it into words,’ she said. ‘I was drawn to you because … because you opened the door to all of this.’ She gestured at the throne room. ‘I needed to understand my true sight. But you and me – that wasn’t part of it. Our fates aren’t intertwined. I think you’ve always known that, deep down.’

  I stared at her. Maybe I wasn’t the brightest guy in the world when it came to girls, but I was pretty sure Rachel had just dumped me, which was lame considering we’d never even been together.

  ‘So … what,’ I said. ‘“Thanks for bringing me to Olympus. See ya?” Is that what you’re saying?’

  Rachel stared at the fire.

  ‘Percy Jackson,’ Hestia said. ‘Rachel has told you all she can. Her moment is coming, but your decision approaches even more rapidly. Are you prepared?’

  I wanted to complain that, no, I wasn’t even close to prepared.

  I looked at Pandora’s jar and for the first time, I had an urge to open it. Hope seemed pretty useless to me right now. So many of my friends were dead. Rachel was cutting me off. Annabeth was angry with me. My parents were asleep down in the streets somewhere while a monster army surrounded the building. Olympus was on the verge of falling, and I’d seen so many cruel things the gods had done: Zeus destroying Maria di Angelo, Hades cursing the last Oracle, Hermes turning his back on Luke even when he knew his son would become evil.

  Surrender, Prometheus’s voice whispered in my ear. Otherwise your home will be destroyed. Your precious camp will burn.

  Then I looked at Hestia. Her red eyes glowed warmly. I remembered the images I’d seen in her hearth – friends and family, everyone I cared about.

  I remembered something Chris Rodriguez had said: There’s no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here. And Nico, standing up to his father Hades: If Olympus falls, he said, your own palace’s safety doesn’t matter.

  I heard footsteps. Annabeth and Grover came back into the throne room and stopped when they saw us. I probably had a pretty strange look on my face.

  ‘Percy?’ Annabeth didn’t sound angry any more – just concerned. ‘Should we, um, leave again?’

  Suddenly I felt like someone had injected me with steel. I understood what to do.

  I looked at Rachel. ‘You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean … you talked to Chiron, right?’

  She managed a faint smile. ‘You’re worried about me doing something stupid?’

  ‘But I mean – will you be okay?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘That kind of depends on whether you save the world, hero.’

  I picked up Pandora’s jar. The spirit of Hope fluttered inside, trying to warm the cold container.

  ‘Hestia,’ I said, ‘I give this to you as an offering.’

  The goddess tilted her head. ‘I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?’

  ‘You’re the last Olympian,’ I said. ‘And the most important.’

  ‘And why is that, Percy Jackson?’

  ‘Because Hope survives best at the hearth,’ I said. ‘Guard it for me, and I won’t be tempted to give up again.’

  The goddess smiled. She took the jar in her hands and it began to glow. The hearth fire burned a little brighter.

  ‘Well done, Percy Jackson,’ she said. ‘May the gods bless you.’

  ‘We’re about to find out.’ I looked at Annabeth and Grover. ‘Come on, guys.’

  I marched towards my father’s throne.

  The seat of Poseidon stood just to the right of Zeus’s, but it wasn’t nearly as grand. The moulded black leather seat was attached to a swivel pedestal, with a couple of iron rings on the side for fastening a fishing pole (or a trident). Basically it looked like a chair on a deep-sea boat that you would sit in if you wanted to hunt shark or marlin or sea monsters.

  Gods in their natural state are about six metres tall, so I could just reach the edge of the seat if I stretched my arms.

  ‘Help me up,’ I told Annabeth and Grover.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Annabeth asked.

  ‘Probably,’ I admitted.

  ‘Percy,’ Grover said, ‘the gods really don’t appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean, like, turn you into a pile of ashes don’t appreciate it.’

  ‘I need to get his attention,’ I said. ‘It’s the only way.’

  They exchanged uneasy looks.

  ‘Well,’ Annabeth said, ‘this’ll get his attention.’

  They linked their arms to make a step then boosted me onto the throne. I felt like a baby with my feet so high off the ground. I looked around at the other gloomy, empty thrones, and I could imagine what it would be like sitting on the Olympian Council – so much power, but so much arguing, always eleven other gods trying to get their way. It would be easy to get paranoid, to look out only for my own interest, especially if I were Poseidon. Sitting in his throne, I felt like I had the entire sea at my command – vast cubic miles of ocean churning with power and mystery. Why should Poseidon listen to anyone? Why shouldn’t he be the greatest of the twelve?

  Then I shook my head. Concentrate.

  The throne rumbled. A wave of gale-force anger slammed into my mind:

  WHO DARES –

  The voice stopped abruptly. The anger retreated, which was a good thing, because just those two words had almost blasted
my mind to shreds.

  Percy. My father’s voice was still angry but more controlled. What – exactly – are you doing on my throne?

  ‘I’m sorry, Father,’ I said. ‘I needed to get your attention.’

  This was a very dangerous thing to do. Even for you. If I hadn’t looked before I blasted, you would now be a puddle of seawater.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. ‘Listen, things are rough up here.’

  I told him what was happening. Then I told him my plan.

  His voice was silent for a long time.

  Percy, what you ask is impossible. My palace –

  ‘Dad, Kronos sent an army against you on purpose. He wants to divide you from the other gods because he knows you could tip the scales.’

  Be that as it may, he attacks my home.

  ‘I’m at your home,’ I said. ‘Olympus.’

  The floor shook. A wave of anger washed over my mind. I thought I’d gone too far, but then the trembling eased. In the background of my mental link, I heard underwater explosions and the sound of battle cries – Cyclopes bellowing, mermen shouting.

  ‘Is Tyson okay?’ I asked.

  The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He’s fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though ‘peanut butter’ is a strange battle cry.

  ‘You let him fight?’

  Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed.

  ‘And Olympus might be saved.’

  Do you have any idea how long I’ve worked on remodelling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years.

  ‘Dad –’

  Very well! It shall be as you say. But, my son, pray this works.

  ‘I am praying. I’m talking to you, right?’

  Oh … yes. Good point. Amphitrite – incoming!

  The sound of a large explosion shattered our connection.

  I slipped down from the throne.

  Grover studied me nervously. ‘Are you okay? You turned pale and … you started smoking.’

  ‘I did not!’ Then I looked at my arms. Steam was curling off my shirtsleeves. The hair on my arms was singed.

  ‘If you’d sat there any longer,’ Annabeth said, ‘you would’ve spontaneously combusted. I hope the conversation was worth it?’

  Moo, said the Ophiotaurus in his sphere of water.

  ‘We’ll find out soon,’ I said.

  Just then the doors of the throne room swung open. Thalia marched in. Her bow was snapped in half and her quiver was empty.

  ‘You’ve got to get down there,’ she told us. ‘The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading them.’

  18 My Parents Go Commando

  By the time we got to the street, it was too late.

  Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must’ve lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice. The centaurs were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d panicked and ran or they’d been disintegrated.

  The Titan army ringed the building, standing maybe ten metres from the doors. Kronos’s vanguard was in the lead – Ethan Nakamura, the dracaena queen in her green armour and two Hyperboreans. I didn’t see Prometheus. The slimy weasel was probably hiding back at their headquarters. But Kronos himself stood right in front with his scythe in hand.

  The only thing standing in his way was …

  ‘Chiron,’ Annabeth said, her voice trembling.

  If Chiron heard us, he didn’t answer. He had an arrow notched, aimed straight at Kronos’s face.

  As soon as Kronos saw me, his gold eyes flared. Every muscle in my body froze. Then the Titan lord turned his attention back to Chiron. ‘Step aside, little son.’

  Hearing Luke call Chiron his son was weird enough, but Kronos put contempt in his voice, like son was the worst word he could think of.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ Chiron’s tone was steely calm, the way he gets when he’s really angry.

  I tried to move, but my feet felt like concrete. Annabeth, Grover and Thalia were straining, too, like they were just as stuck.

  ‘Chiron!’ Annabeth said. ‘Look out!’

  The dracaena queen became impatient and charged. Chiron’s arrow flew straight between her eyes and she vaporized on the spot, her empty armour clattering to the tarmac.

  Chiron reached for another arrow, but his quiver was empty. He dropped the bow and drew his sword. I knew he hated fighting with a sword. It was never his favourite weapon.

  Kronos chuckled. He advanced a step and Chiron’s horse half skittered nervously. His tail flicked back and forth.

  ‘You’re a teacher,’ Kronos sneered. ‘Not a hero.’

  ‘Luke was a hero,’ Chiron said. ‘He was a good one, until you corrupted him.’

  ‘FOOL!’ Kronos’s voice shook the city. ‘You filled his head with empty promises. You said the gods cared about me!’

  ‘Me,’ Chiron noticed. ‘You said me.’

  Kronos looked confused, and in that moment, Chiron struck. It was a good manoeuvre – a feint followed by a strike to the face. I couldn’t have done better myself, but Kronos was quick. He had all of Luke’s fighting skill, which was a lot. He knocked aside Chiron’s blade and yelled, ‘BACK!’

  A blinding white light exploded between the Titan and the centaur. Chiron flew into the side of the building with such force the wall crumbled and collapsed on top of him.

  ‘No!’ Annabeth wailed. The freezing spell broke. We ran towards our teacher, but there was no sign of him. Thalia and I pulled helplessly at the bricks while a ripple of ugly laughter ran through the Titans’ army.

  ‘YOU!’ Annabeth turned on Luke. ‘To think that I – that I thought –’

  She drew her knife.

  ‘Annabeth, don’t.’ I tried to take her arm, but she shook me off.

  She attacked Kronos, and his smug smile faded. Perhaps some part of Luke remembered that he used to like this girl, used to take care of her when she was little. She plunged her knife between the straps of his armour, right at his collarbone. The blade should’ve sunk into his chest. Instead it bounced off. Annabeth doubled over, clutching her arm to her stomach. The jolt might’ve been enough to dislocate her bad shoulder.

  I yanked her back as Kronos swung his scythe, slicing the air where she’d been standing.

  She fought me and screamed, ‘I HATE you!’ I wasn’t sure who she was talking to – me or Luke or Kronos. Tears streaked the dust on her face.

  ‘I have to fight him,’ I told her.

  ‘It’s my fight, too, Percy!’

  Kronos laughed. ‘So much spirit. I can see why Luke wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won’t be possible.’

  He raised his scythe. I got ready to defend, but before Kronos could strike, a dog’s howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titans’ army. ‘Arroooooooo!’

  It was too much to hope, but I called, ‘Mrs O’Leary?’

  The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to.

  Soon there was a free aisle down the centre of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was my giant dog and a small figure in black armour.

  ‘Nico?’ I called.

  ‘ROWWF!’ Mrs O’Leary bounded towards me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him like he radiated death, which of course he did.

  Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. ‘Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?’

  ‘Son of Hades.’ Kronos spat on the ground. ‘Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?’

  ‘Your death,’ Nico said, ‘would be great for me.’

  ‘I’m immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live.’

  Nico drew his sword – a metre long of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare.
‘I don’t agree.’

  The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titans’ monsters got jumpy and started to back up.

  ‘HOLD YOUR GROUND!’ Kronos demanded. ‘The dead are no match for us.’

  The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded, and as the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico. The horses were living shadows, fashioned from darkness. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.

  Hades wore black armour and a cloak the colour of fresh blood. On top of his pale head was the helm of darkness: a crown that radiated pure terror. It changed shape as I watched – from a dragon’s head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. But that wasn’t the scary part. The helm reached into my mind and ignited my worst nightmares, my most secret fears. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, and I could tell the enemy army felt the same way. Only Kronos’s power and authority kept his ranks from fleeing.

  Hades smiled coldly. ‘Hello, Father. You’re looking … young.’

  ‘Hades,’ Kronos growled. ‘I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance.’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ Hades sighed. ‘My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies.’ He glanced at me with distaste. ‘As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on – it is that you were a TERRIBLE father.’

  ‘True,’ muttered Demeter. ‘No appreciation of agriculture.’

  ‘Mother!’ Persephone complained.

  Hades drew his sword, a double-edged Stygian blade etched with silver. ‘Now fight me! For today the House of Hades will be called the saviours of Olympus.’

  ‘I don’t have time for this,’ Kronos snarled.

  He struck the ground with his scythe. A crack spread in both directions, circling the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos’s vanguard, my friends and me from the bulk of the two armies.