The Titan's Curse (24 page)

NINETEEN

Flying was bad enough for a son of Poseidon, but flying straight up to Zeus's palace, with thunder and lightning swirling around it, was even worse.

We circled over midtown Manhattan, making one complete orbit around Mount Olympus. I'd only been there once before, traveling by elevator up to the secret six hundredth floor of the Empire State Building. This time, if it was possible, Olympus amazed me even more.

In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from bloodred to indigo. Apparently no one ever slept on Olympus. The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. Winter didn't seem to exist here. I caught the scent of the gardens in full bloom, jasmine and roses and even sweeter things I couldn't name. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes.

Towering at the peak of the mountain was the greatest palace of all, the glowing white hall of the gods.

Our pegasi set us down in the outer courtyard, in front of huge silver gates. Before I could even think to knock, the gates opened by themselves.

Good luck, boss,
Blackjack said.

“Yeah.” I didn't know why, but I had a sense of doom. I'd never seen all the gods together. I knew any one of them could blast me to dust, and a few of them would like to.

Hey, if ya don't come back, can I have your cabin for my stable?

I looked at the pegasus.

Just a thought,
he said.
Sorry.

Blackjack and his friends flew off, leaving Thalia, Annabeth, and me alone. For a minute we stood there regarding the palace, the way we'd stood together in front of Westover Hall, what seemed like a million years ago.

And then, side by side, we walked into the throne room.

Twelve enormous thrones made a U around a central hearth, just like the placement of the cabins at camp. The ceiling above glittered with constellations—even the newest one, Zoë the Huntress, making her way across the heavens with her bow drawn.

All of the seats were occupied. Each god and goddess was about fifteen feet tall, and I'm telling you, if you've ever had a dozen all-powerful super-huge beings turn their eyes on you at once . . . Well, suddenly, facing monsters seemed like a picnic.

“Welcome, heroes,” Artemis said.

“Mooo!”

That's when I noticed Bessie and Grover.

A sphere of water was hovering in the center of the room, next to the hearth fire. Bessie was swimming happily around, swishing his serpent tail and poking his head out the sides and bottom of the sphere. He seemed to be enjoying the novelty of swimming in a magic bubble. Grover was kneeling at Zeus's throne, as if he'd just been giving a report, but when he saw us, he cried, “You made it!”

He started to run toward me, then remembered he was turning his back on Zeus, and looked for permission.

“Go on,” Zeus said. But he wasn't really paying attention to Grover. The lord of the sky was staring intently at Thalia.

Grover trotted over. None of the gods spoke. Every clop of Grover's hooves echoed on the marble floor. Bessie splashed in his bubble of water. The hearth fire crackled.

I looked nervously at my father, Poseidon. He was dressed similar to the last time I'd seen him: beach shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and sandals. He had a weathered, suntanned face with a dark beard and deep green eyes. I wasn't sure how he would feel about seeing me again, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with smile lines. He nodded as if to say
It's okay.

Grover gave Annabeth and Thalia big hugs. Then he grasped my arms. “Percy, Bessie and I made it! But you have to convince them! They can't do it!”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Heroes,” Artemis called.

The goddess slid down from her throne and turned to human size, a young auburn-haired girl, perfectly at ease in the midst of the giant Olympians. She walked toward us, her silver robes shimmering. There was no emotion in her face. She seemed to walk in a column of moonlight.

“The Council has been informed of your deeds,” Artemis told us. “They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West. They know of Atlas's attempt for freedom, and the gathering armies of Kronos. We have voted to act.”

There was some mumbling and shuffling among the gods, as if they weren't all happy with this plan, but nobody protested.

“At my Lord Zeus's command,” Artemis said, “my brother Apollo and I shall hunt the most powerful monsters, seeking to strike them down before they can join the Titans' cause. Lady Athena shall personally check on the other Titans to make sure they do not escape their various prisons. Lord Poseidon has been given permission to unleash his full fury on the cruise ship
Princess Andromeda
and send it to the bottom of the sea. And as for you, my heroes . . .”

She turned to face the other immortals. “These half-bloods have done Olympus a great service. Would any here deny that?”

She looked around at the assembled gods, meeting their faces individually. Zeus in his dark pin-striped suit, his black beard neatly trimmed, and his eyes sparking with energy. Next to him sat a beautiful woman with silver hair braided over one shoulder and a dress that shimmered colors like peacock feathers. The Lady Hera.

On Zeus's right, my father Poseidon. Next to him, a huge lump of a man with a leg in a steel brace, a misshapen head, and a wild brown beard, fire flickering through his whiskers. The Lord of the Forges, Hephaestus.

Hermes winked at me. He was wearing a business suit today, checking messages on his caduceus mobile phone. Apollo leaned back in his golden throne with his shades on. He had iPod headphones on, so I wasn't sure he was even listening, but he gave me a thumbs-up. Dionysus looked bored, twirling a grape vine between his fingers. And Ares, well, he sat on his chrome-and-leather throne, glowering at me while he sharpened a knife.

On the ladies' side of the throne room, a dark-haired goddess in green robes sat next to Hera on a throne woven of apple-tree branches. Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. Next to her sat a beautiful gray-eyed woman in an elegant white dress. She could only be Annabeth's mother, Athena. Then there was Aphrodite, who smiled at me knowingly and made me blush in spite of myself.

All the Olympians in one place. So much power in this room it was a miracle the whole palace didn't blow apart.

“I gotta say”—Apollo broke the silence—“these kids did okay.” He cleared his throat and began to recite:
“Heroes win laurels—”

“Um, yes, first class,” Hermes interrupted, like he was anxious to avoid Apollo's poetry. “All in favor of not disintegrating them?”

A few tentative hands went up—Demeter, Aphrodite.

“Wait just a minute,” Ares growled. He pointed at Thalia and me. “These two are dangerous. It'd be much safer, while we've got them here—”

“Ares,” Poseidon interrupted, “they are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits.”

“Nor my daughter,” Zeus grumbled. “She has done well.”

Thalia blushed. She studied the floor. I knew how she felt. I'd hardly ever talked to my father, much less gotten a compliment.

The goddess Athena cleared her throat and sat forward. “I am proud of my daughter as well. But there is a security risk here with the other two.”

“Mother!” Annabeth said. “How can you—”

Athena cut her off with a calm but firm look. “It is unfortunate that my father, Zeus, and my uncle, Poseidon, chose to break their oath not to have more children. Only Hades kept his word, a fact that I find ironic. As we know from the Great Prophecy, children of the three elder gods . . . such as Thalia and Percy . . . are dangerous. As thickheaded as he is, Ares has a point.”

“Right!” Ares said. “Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin'—”

He started to get up, but a grape vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.

“Oh, please, Ares,” Dionysus sighed. “Save the fighting for later.”

Ares cursed and ripped away the vine. “You're one to talk, you old drunk. You seriously want to protect these brats?”

Dionysus gazed down at us wearily. “I have no love for them. Athena, do you truly think it safest to destroy them?”

“I do not pass judgment,” Athena said. “I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide.”

“I will not have them punished,” Artemis said. “I will have them rewarded. If we destroy heroes who do us a great favor, then we are no better than the Titans. If this is Olympian justice, I will have none of it.”

“Calm down, sis,” Apollo said. “Jeez, you need to lighten up.”

“Don't call me
sis
! I will reward them.”

“Well,” Zeus grumbled. “Perhaps. But the monster at least must be destroyed. We have agreement on that?”

A lot of nodding heads.

It took me a second to realize what they were saying. Then my heart turned to lead. “Bessie? You want to destroy Bessie?”

“Mooooooo!” Bessie protested.

My father frowned. “You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?”

“Dad,” I said, “he's just a sea creature. A really
nice
sea creature. You can't destroy him.”

Poseidon shifted uncomfortably. “Percy, the monster's power is considerable. If the Titans were to steal it, or—”

“You can't,” I insisted. I looked at Zeus. I probably should have been afraid of him, but I stared him right in the eye. “Controlling the prophecies never works. Isn't that true? Besides, Bess— the Ophiotaurus is innocent. Killing something like that is wrong. It's just as wrong as . . . as Kronos eating his children, just because of something they
might
do. It's wrong!”

Zeus seemed to consider this. His eyes drifted to his daughter Thalia. “And what of the risk? Kronos knows full well, if one of you were to sacrifice the beast's entrails, you would have the power to destroy us. Do you think we can let that possibility remain? You, my daughter, will turn sixteen on the morrow, just as the prophecy says.”

“You have to trust them,” Annabeth spoke up. “Sir, you have to trust them.”

Zeus scowled. “Trust a hero?”

“Annabeth is right,” Artemis said. “Which is why I must first make a reward. My faithful companion, Zoë Nightshade, has passed into the stars. I must have a new lieutenant. And I intend to choose one. But first, Father Zeus, I must speak to you privately.”

Zeus beckoned Artemis forward. He leaned down and listened as she spoke in his ear.

A feeling of panic seized me. “Annabeth,” I said under my breath. “Don't.”

She frowned at me. “What?”

“Look, I need to tell you something,” I continued. The words came stumbling out of me. “I couldn't stand it if . . . I don't want you to—”

“Percy?” she said. “You look like you're going to be sick.”

And that's how I felt. I wanted to say more, but my tongue betrayed me. It wouldn't move because of the fear in my stomach. And then Artemis turned.

“I shall have a new lieutenant,” she announced. “If she will accept it.”

“No,” I murmured.

“Thalia,” Artemis said. “Daughter of Zeus. Will you join the Hunt?”

Stunned silence filled the room. I stared at Thalia, unable to believe what I was hearing. Annabeth smiled. She squeezed Thalia's hand and let it go, as if she'd been expecting this all along.

“I will,” Thalia said firmly.

Zeus rose, his eyes full of concern. “My daughter, consider well—”

“Father,” she said. “I will not turn sixteen tomorrow. I will never turn sixteen. I won't let this prophecy be mine. I stand with my sister Artemis. Kronos will never tempt me again.”

She knelt before the goddess and began the words I remembered from Bianca's oath, what seemed like so long ago. “I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men . . .”

Afterward, Thalia did something that surprised me almost as much as the pledge. She came over to me, smiled, and in front of the whole assembly, she gave me a big hug.

I blushed.

When she pulled away and gripped my shoulders, I said, “Um . . . aren't you supposed to not do that anymore? Hug boys, I mean?”

“I'm honoring a friend,” she corrected. “I
must
join the Hunt, Percy. I haven't known peace since . . . since Half-Blood Hill. I finally feel like I have a home. But you're a hero. You will be the one of the prophecy.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“I'm proud to be your friend.”

She hugged Annabeth, who was trying hard not to cry. Then she even hugged Grover, who looked ready to pass out, like somebody had just given him an all-you-can-eat enchilada coupon.

Then Thalia went to stand by Artemis's side.