𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter eighty. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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                         THE END OF THE WORLD STARTED when I visited my aunt.

     I wanted to check in on her to see how she was doing after my mom's death. I'm not evil—I wouldn't just let her wallow in her own grief alone. I figured, even though she may hate me, she could have needed a shoulder to cry on. After all, her sister died.

     That was something I could relate to, at least.

     When I returned to Manhattan and the tiny apartment I used to share with my aunt Carrie, I found much more than I bargained for. I won't subject you to too much detail, so I shall try to make this as vague as possible, but it seemed to me that Carrie already had a shoulder to cry on. Or kiss. Or lick, or bite, or whatever.

     Okay, what I'm trying to say is I found Carrie in bed with our apartment tenant. I'd never seen George as a freaky guy, but what I walked in on was.... jeez.

     Anyways, once Carrie was adequately dressed to speak to her niece, she told me her and George had started "going steady" while I'd been gone. I wasn't sure what "going steady" meant at first, but I warily looked it up on a private browser to find that it was just an old slang word for "we're dating." And anyway, I didn't have much say in the matter of whether or not this was allowed. Even if I had the authority to stop them from fornicating in the living room, I didn't care enough to step in. Whatever my aunt was doing while I was away at camp was her own business, not mine.

     But safe to say I left Carrie's pretty soon after I got there. I didn't want to interrupt whatever rhythm they had going on, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, since I was in town, I thought I could pop in to Percy's place and maybe catch a slice of pizza with him, so I called his mom's number while I waited for the subway.

"Hi, Ms. Jackson," I said when she picked up. "It's Theo."

"Theo!" Sally's voice said over the phone, and I could basically hear her smile. "What's up? Looking for Percy? We're on vacation right now; Paul took us to this private beach house. I think Percy's on the beach with his friend right now, but I can take a message, if you want."

"His friend?" My voice was tight. Instead of being concerned about the fact that Paul, my mortal enemy, had kidnapped Percy and the love of my life (Sally), I was more focused on this 'friend' Sally was talking about. Percy didn't have any friends outside of Camp Half-Blood, and I knew all of his demigod acquaintances.

"Her name's Rachel," Sally said, a bit reproachfully. "She's a nice girl, but—"

"Rachel Dare?" I asked, my stomach churning. "Red hair, paint-splattered clothes, messy personality?"

"That's her," Sally confirmed. My face grew hot. "He asked if he could bring her on our trip. I'm sorry, Theo."

"Don't be sorry," I said. "What are you sorry for? It's not your fault your son's an asshole. Er.. no offense."

"None taken. I agree. I'll have to talk to Percy about commitment when he gets back. And I'll tell him you called, if that makes you feel any better. I'll be sure to guilt him a little bit."

"Thanks, Ms. Jackson. Have a good vacation. With.. um, Paul."

     She laughed at that. We said our goodbyes and hung up, but I was still fuming. Not at Sally—never at Sally. At Percy. At the fact that Rachel Dare exists. At the fact that he invited her to go to Paul's super-cool beach house with his family. I haven't even met Paul yet, and Rachel gets to go on a stupid vacation to the stupid beach with stupid Paul and even stupider Percy.

     I didn't bother with the subway. It was taking too long and I didn't have anywhere to go anymore, so I just hopped in a taxi and told it to take me to the strawberry fields off the interstate. The driver seemed reluctant to take me to the middle of nowhere, but I paid him well so by the time we got there he was pretty content to dump me out of his car.

     After a short hike, I crested the top of Half-Blood Hill, making sure to give Peleus an under-the-chin scratch on my way home. A few of my friends from Hephaestus cabin were on guard duty, and they let me in the borders easily.

I found Will pretty soon thereafter. He was sparring with Michael in the swords arena, but both of them were pathetic with swords. Us Apollo kids like to stick with long-distance weapons—bows, slingshots, snowballs. I'd picked up some swordsmanship skills from my old years of practicing with Luke, and all of my quests with Percy that I'd been too close to my opponents to use a ranged weapon. Michael and Will were the worst swordsmen of our cabin, though—last spring, I'd seen thirteen-year-old Cassie take down Lee and hold him at swords-point.

I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of burning both of their shrouds at the end of last summer.

"Hey, guys," I said, slinging my backpack to the side and taking a seat on the bench. "Learn anything while I was gone?"

"Not in six hours, no," Will said, wiping sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. Then he lit up, like he remembered something. "Oh, actually, Beckendorf left on his mission shortly after you."

That caught my attention. "The one with Percy? But Percy was out of town."

Michael shrugged. "Beckendorf must've picked him up on the way, then. Will and I had to take over lookout for him, though. The way he was acting before he left.. I'm pretty sure he didn't have much faith in the mission."

Will's eyes fixed on something at the top of the hill behind me. "Maybe Beckendorf's instincts were right," he muttered, nodding to the hill.

I spun around to see Percy Jackson clutching his sword, his clothes ripped up and singed and covered in dirt, but looking heroic as ever. Well, except for the dark look on his face, like he knew something horrible had happened. And judging by the fact that Beckendorf wasn't with him, I could put two and two together.

     News of his arrival spread pretty quickly, and soon people were crowding around him to ask how the mission went. I followed Chiron to the front of the group.

     Percy's eyes landed on me, and for a moment the dark, brooding expression evaporated from his face. The year had been good to him; his hair was no longer an awkward length between short and long, but now a nice dark mess of curl atop his head. His eyes almost glowed against his skin—no doubt, so tan from his little beach trip. He'd grown, too. Gods, when was he going to stop? By then he was probably three or four inches taller than I was, and at eighteen, I was 5'11. If that puts into perspective how tall Percy really was.

     My heart did a little somersault when I saw him, I'll admit it. It's not that I tried to be attracted to him; if anything, I tried not to be. But.. c'mon. You try not to like him, okay? Then you can judge me. And anyway, there was only a short while when I thought we'd been able to make it past the phase where we couldn't make it through a whole conversation without wanting to strangle each other. Before Luke turned into Kronos and everything went sour and Percy fell head over heels for Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

     Still, I was curious about his quest. I met his eyes. "What happened?" I asked. "Is—"

     "The ship blew up," Percy told me. "Luke wasn't destroyed. I don't know where—"

     Silena Beauregard pushed through the crowd. Her hair wasn't combed and she wasn't even wearing makeup, which wasn't like her.

     "Where's Charlie?" she demanded, looking around like he might be hiding.

     Percy glanced at Chiron helplessly. My heart ached.

     The old centaur cleared his throat. "Silena, my dear, let's talk about this at the Big House—"

     "No," she muttered. "No. No."

     She started to cry, and the rest of us stood around, too stunned to speak. We'd already lost so many people over the summer, but this was the worst. With Beckendorf gone, it felt like someone had stolen the anchor for the entire camp.

     Finally Clarisse came forward. She put her arm around Silena. They had one of the strangest friendships ever—a daughter of the war god and a daughter of the love goddess—but ever since Silena had given Clarisse advice last summer about her first boyfriend, Clarisse had decided she was Silena's personal bodyguard.

     "Come on, girl," she said. "Let's get to the Big House. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

     Everyone turned and wandered off in twos and threes, heading back to the cabins. Nobody was excited to see Percy anymore. Nobody wanted to hear about the blown-up ship.

     Only Chiron and I stayed behind.

     I cleared my throat, blinking back wet tears. I turned to the centaur. "Chiron, I think.."

     He nodded shortly. "I've dreaded this day. You're right, Theo. Percy must know the truth—all of it. Let's go to the attic."

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

                          CHIRON COULDN'T CLIMB ladders very well, so he didn't come up to the attic with us. He just said I knew where it was—and I did—and Chiron waited for us at the bottom of the ladder while Percy and I ascended into my least favorite place at camp.

     The sun was setting outside, so the attic was even darker and creepier than usual. Old hero trophies were stacked everywhere—dented shields, pickled heads in jars from various monsters, a pair of fuzzy dice on a bronze plaque that read: STOLEN FROM CHRYSAOR'S HONDA CIVIC, BY GUS, SON OF HERMES, 1988.

     Percy picked up a curved bronze sword so badly bent it looked like the letter M. I could still see green stains on the metal from the magical poison that used to cover it. The tag was dated last summer. It read: Scimitar of Kampê, destroyed in the Battle of the Labyrinth.

     "Remember Briares throwing those boulders?" Percy asked me.

     I gave him a half-smile. "And Grover causing a Panic?"

     We locked eyes. I thought of a different time last summer, in the Labyrinth, when Percy thought I was going to die, and he kissed me. Then I thought of him spending so much time with Rachel over the past year, and my cheeks burned with jealousy.

     I cleared my throat and looked away. "Prophecy."

     "Right." Percy put down the scimitar. "Prophecy."

     We walked over to the window. On a three-legged stool sat the Oracle—a shriveled female mummy in a tie-dyed dress. Tufts of black hair clung to her skull. Glassy eyes stared out of her leathery face. Just looking at her made my skin crawl.

     If you wanted to leave camp during the summer, it used to be you had to come up here to get a quest. This summer, that rule had been tossed. Campers left all the time on combat missions. We had no choice if we wanted to stop Kronos.

     Still, I remembered too well the strange green mist—the spirit of the Oracle—that lived inside the mummy. She looked lifeless now, but whenever she spoke a prophecy, she moved. Sometimes fog gushed out of her mouth and created strange shapes. Once, she'd even left the attic and taken a little zombie stroll into the woods to deliver a message. I wasn't sure what she'd do for the Great Prophecy. I half expected her to start tap dancing or something.

     But she just sat there like she was dead—which she was.

     I wasn't exactly sure what I had to do to retrieve the prophecy, so I winged it—I approached the mummy and held out my palms. "O Oracle, the time is at hand. I ask for the Great Prophecy."

     Of course, the mummy didn't move. I lifted my head and locked my eyes on one of its necklaces. I unclasped it, hoping desperately that I was correct and that she wouldn't come to life and curse me for eternity. Luckily, she didn't. In my hand was a small leather pouch, and inside was a roll of parchment no bigger than my pinky.

     "No way," Percy said. "You mean all these years, I've been asking about this stupid prophecy, and it's been right there around her neck?"

     "The time wasn't right," I said. "Trust me. Annabeth and I read this when we were eleven, and I still have nightmares about it."

     "Great," Percy said. "Can I read it now?"

     "Downstairs at the war council," I said. "Not in front of... you know."

     We looked at the glassy eyes of the Oracle, and Percy decided not to argue. We headed downstairs to join the others. I hoped that would be my last time in the attic.