ᥴꪮ𝘴ꪑꪮ𝘴 ➪ 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚕𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜 [𝟷]

3

Annabeth, Percy, and Polaris were on their way out when Percy spotted Hermes in a side courtyard of the palace. He was staring at an Iris-message in the mist of a fountain.

Percy glanced at the two of them. "I'll meet you at the elevator."

"You sure?" Annabeth studied his face. "Yeah, you're sure."

Percy nodded and walked over to Hermes, who looked very, very alone.

They continued their journey to the elevator. All of the floors had been repaired, and Olympus looked like it had before. Polaris didn't think anyone would be able to forget, even without the constant reminder.

"How are you doing?" Polaris asked eventually. "No lingering pain?"

"Apollo fixed me up," Annabeth said, smiling. "You? How's your—"

She was staring at the bruise, stark against Polaris's skin. They too would fade, but she would never forget. Such were the memories of  war.

"I'm all good," Polaris said. "A little sore."

Annabeth was staring a her head now, at the circlet that adorned her brow.

"What does it mean, Polaris?" Her voice was breathy, a little quiet. "What is your circlet?"

The words caught in Polaris's throat. She knew it was impossible, but it felt like Kronos was squeezing her again. "Nothing," she managed to get out. "It's nothing. Just a circlet."

"I've seen the way the muses look at you," Annabeth insisted. "And Apollo. There's something going on."

"It's not important. Just a gift from Urania." And Polaris really hates lying, but there's no way she'd ever drag her friends into a wild goose chase for her cousins right after the war.

Thankfully Percy returned and distracted Annabeth.

"Why do you smell like smoke?" She asked.

"Long story," he said.

Together they made their way down to the street level. None of them said a word. The music was awful—Neil Diamond or something. Percy should've made that part of his gift from the gods: better elevator tunes.

When they got into the lobby, they found Sally and Paul arguing with the bald security guy, who'd returned to his post.

"I'm telling you," Sally yelled, "we have to go up! My son—" Then she saw Percy and her eyes widened. "Percy!"

She hugged the breath right out of him.

"We saw the building lit up blue," she said. "But then you didn't come down. You went up hours ago!"

"She was getting a bit anxious," Paul said drily.

"I'm all right," Percy promised as Sally hugged Annabeth and Polaris. "Everything's okay now."

"Mr. Blofis," Annabeth said, "that was wicked sword work."

"And Sally?" Polaris said. "That shotgun maneuvering? Totally awesome!"

Paul shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do. But Percy, is this really . . . I mean, this story about the six hundredth floor?"

"Olympus," Percy said. "Yeah."

Paul looked at the ceiling with a dreamy expression. "I'd like to see that."

"Paul," my mom chided. "It's not for mortals. Anyway, the important thing is we're safe. All of us."

Polaris was about to relax. Everything felt perfect. Annabeth and Percy were okay. Sally and Paul had survived. Olympus was saved.

But the life of a demigod is never so easy. Just then Nico ran in from the street, and his face told them something was wrong.

"It's Rachel," he said. "I just ran into her down on 32nd Street."

Annabeth frowned. "What's she done this time?"

"It's where she's gone," Nico said. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took Blackjack and—"

"She took my pegasus?" Percy demanded.

Nico nodded. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp."