RED ¹ / Percy Jackson !

87

COMPARED TO MOUNT OLYMPUS, MANHATTAN WAS QUIET. Friday before Christmas, but it was early in the morning, and hardly anyone was on Fifth Avenue. Argus, the many-eyed security chief, picked up Annabeth, Grover, Percy and Viviene at the Empire State Building and ferried them back to camp through a light snowstorm. The Long Island Expressway was almost deserted.

As they trudged back up Half-Blood Hill to the pine tree where the Golden Fleece glittered, Viviene half expected to see Thalia there, waiting for them. But she wasn't. She was long gone with Artemis and the rest of the Hunters, off on their next adventure.

Chiron greeted them at the Big House with hot chocolate and toasted cheese sandwiches. Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.

Annabeth, Viviene and Percy sat with Chiron and some of the other senior campers—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers. Even Clarisse from the Ares cabin was there, back from her secretive scouting mission. Viviene knew she must've had a difficult quest, because she didn't even try to pulverize Percy or call her a murderer. She had a new scar on her chin, and her dirty blond hair had been cut short and ragged, like someone had attacked it with a pair of safety scissors.

"I got news," she mumbled uneasily. "Bad news." 

 "I'll fill you in later," Chiron said with forced cheerfulness. "The important thing is you have prevailed. And you saved Annabeth!"

Annabeth smiled at Percy and Viviene gratefully.

"Luke is alive," Percy said. "Annabeth was right."

 Annabeth sat up. "How do you know?" 

 Viviene tried not to feel annoyed by her interest. Percy told her what his dad had said about the Princess Andromeda.

"Well." Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "If the final battle does come when Percy is sixteen, at least we have two more years to figure something out."

Viviene had a feeling that when she said "figure something out," she meant "get Luke to change his ways," which annoyed her even more.

Chiron's expression was gloomy. Sitting by the fire in his wheelchair, he looked really old.   he was really old, but he usually didn't look it.

"Two years may seem like a long time," he said. "But it is the blink of an eye. I still hope you are not the child of the prophecy, Percy. But if you are, then the second Titan war is almost upon us. Kronos's first strike will be here."

"How do you know?" Percy asked. "Why would he care about camp?" 

 "Because the gods use heroes as their tools," Chiron said simply. "Destroy the tools, and the gods will be crippled. Luke's forces will come here. Mortal, demigod, monstrous... We must be prepared. Clarisse's news may give us a clue as to how they will attack, but—"  

There was a knock on the door, and Nico di Angelo came huffing into the parlor, his cheeks bright red from the cold.

He was smiling, but he looked around anxiously. "Hey! Where's... where's my sister?"