Chapter Text
Percy
The end of the world started when a pegasus landed on the hood of my car.
Up until then, I was having a great afternoon. Technically I wasn't supposed to be driving because I wouldn't turn sixteen for another week, but my mom and my stepdad, Paul, took my friend Rachel and me to this private stretch of beach on the South Shore, and Paul let us borrow his Prius for a short spin. Oh, and Isha was there as usual. She was like an unrelenting presence that'd never leave me alone.
Now, I know you're thinking, Wow, that was really irresponsible of him, blah, blah, blah, but Paul knows me pretty well. He's seen me slice up demons and leap out of exploding school buildings, so he probably figured taking a car a few hundred yards wasn't exactly the most dangerous thing I'd ever done.
Anyway, we were driving along. It was a hot August day. Rachel's red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a white blouse over her swimsuit. I'd never seen her in anything but ratty T-shirts and paint-splattered jeans before, and she looked amazing. Being here reminded me of the first time I'd watched the fireworks on the beach with Annabeth back at Camp.
"Percy, you're aware you can go above 5 miles per hour right?" Isha called out from the backseat, killing the daydream. "The car's not going to explode but I might"
"Shut up asshole" I called back. Rachel just smiled a little like she didn't know what to do. Still, I was glad Isha was talking to me again even if it was just to be a bitch. She'd even taken to naming the street cat who followed her around and training it to try and kill me in my sleep. Knowing her, she'd probably manage it too. As if that wasn't enough, she made her stuffed animals and weird squirrel dolls re-enact obnoxious soap operas of me and Annabeth’s tragedies in love or some garbage, everytime we were in our room together. It was like a wrestling match didn't even faze her anymore. She'd found other ways to be a piece of shit.
"Oh, pull up right there!" Rachel told me.
We parked on a ridge overlooking the Atlantic. The sea is always one of my favorite places, but today it was especially nice—glittery green and smooth as glass, as though my dad was keeping it calm just for us.
My dad, by the way, is Poseidon. He can do stuff like that.
"So." Rachel smiled at me. "About that invitation."
"Oh...right." I tried to sound excited. I mean, she'd asked me to her family's vacation house on St. Thomas for three days. I didn't get a lot of offers like that. My family's idea of a fancy vacation was a weekend in a rundown cabin on Long Island with some movie rentals and a couple of frozen pizzas, and here Rachel's folks were willing to let me tag along to the Caribbean. Besides, I seriously needed a vacation. This summer had been the hardest of my life. The idea of taking a break even for a few days was really tempting.
"We can't. Well he can't I guess" Isha answered for me with an underlying passive agressive tone. I glared at her. She was unaffected and rolled her eyes.
"Can you like go?" I attempted to shoo her away.
"Go where?"
"Anywhere but here" I grumbled.
"Whatever, but you know I'm right" Isha shrugged, putting on headphones and sunglasses, exiting the car and closing the door too hard.
She was right. Something big was supposed to go down any day now. Me and Isha had be on "on call" for missions for a while. We'd actually been on one during Isha's birthday. She had the worst luck with her birthdays, it seemed. We'd scouted a tunnel system for almost the entire day to attempt to cut off supply lines and kill a large group of monsters. Atleast she'd had fun setting off their explosives and stealing but it still made me sad. Even worse, next week was my birthday. There was this prophecy that said when I turned sixteen, bad things would happen.
"Percy," she said, "I know the timing is bad. But it's always bad for you, right?"
She had a point.
"I really want to go," I promised. "It's just—"
"The war.”
I nodded. I didn't like talking about it, but Rachel knew. Unlike most mortals, she could see through the Mist—the magic veil that distorts human vision. She'd seen monsters. She'd met some of the other demigods who were fighting the Titans and their allies. She'd even been there last summer when the chopped-up Lord Kronos rose out of his coffin in a terrible new form, and she'd earned my permanent respect by nailing him in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush.
She put her hand on my arm. "Just think about it, okay? We don't leave for a couple of days. My dad..." Her voice faltered.
"Is he giving you a hard time?" I asked.
Rachel shook her head in disgust. "He's trying to be nice to me, which is almost worse. He wants me to go to Clarion Ladies Academy in the fall."
"The school where your mom went?"
"It's a stupid finishing school for society girls, all the way in New Hampshire. Can you see me in finishing school?"
I admitted the idea sounded pretty dumb. Rachel was into urban art projects and feeding the homeless and going to protest rallies to "Save the Endangered Yellow-bellied Sapsucker" and stuff like that. It was hard to imagine her learning to be a socialite.
She sighed. "He thinks if he does a bunch of nice stuff for me, I'll feel guilty and give in."
"Which is why he agreed to let me come with you guys on vacation?"
"Yes...but Percy, you'd be doing me a huge favor. It would be so much better if you were with us. Besides, there's something I want to talk—" She stopped abruptly.
"Something you want to talk about?" I asked. "You mean...so serious we'd have to go to St. Thomas to talk about it?"
She pursed her lips. "Look, just forget it for now. Let's pretend we're a couple of normal people. We're out for a drive, and we're watching the ocean, and it's nice to be together."
I could tell something was bothering her, but she put on a brave smile. The sunlight made her hair look like fire. We'd spent a lot of time together this summer. I hadn't exactly planned it that way, but the more serious things got at camp, the more I found myself needing to call up Rachel and get away, just for some breathing room. I needed to remind myself that the mortal world was still out there, away from all the monsters using me as their personal punching bag. Isha seemed to despise it as much as Annabeth despised knowing Rachel last year. I didn't think she hated Rachel exactly because they seemed to get along when I wasn't there. I just thought she was being a big jerk as usual.
"Okay," I said. "Just a normal afternoon and two normal people."
She nodded. "And so...hypothetically, if these two people liked each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl, huh?"
"Oh..." I felt like one of Apollo's sacred cows—slow, dumb, and bright red. "Um..."
I can't pretend I hadn't thought about Rachel. She was so much easier to be around than...well, than some other girls I knew. I didn't have to work hard, or watch what I said, or rack my brain trying to figure out what she was thinking. Rachel didn't hide much. She let you know how she felt.
I'm not sure what I would have done next—but I was so distracted, I didn't notice the huge black form swooping down from the sky until four hooves landed on the hood of the Prius with a WUMP-WUMP-CRUNCH!
Hey, boss, a voice said in my head. Nice car!
Blackjack the pegasus was an old friend of mine, so I tried not to get too annoyed by the craters he'd just put in the hood; but I didn't think my stepdad would be real stoked.
"Blackjack," I sighed. "What are you—"
Then I saw who was riding on his back, and I knew my day was about to get a lot more complicated.
"Sup, Percy."
Charles Beckendorf, senior counselor for the Hephaestus cabin, would make most monsters cry for their mommies. He was huge, with ripped muscles from working on the forges every summer, two years older than me, and one of the camp's best armorsmiths. He made some seriously ingenious mechanical stuff. A month before, he'd rigged a Greek firebomb in the bathroom of a tour bus that was carrying a bunch of monsters across country. The explosion took out a whole legion of Kronos's evil meanies as soon as the first harpy went flush.
Beckendorf was dressed for combat. He wore a bronze breastplate and war helm with black camo pants and a sword strapped to his side. His explosives bag was slung over his shoulder.
That was followed by some of Isha's demonic cackling like she knew exactly what'd happened the last three minutes. I didn't doubt she did even if she'd just come running.
"Hi Beckendorf" she waved at him and he waved back with a smile. "Blackjack"
Hello boss lady! Blackjack whinnied.
"Time?" I asked.
He nodded grimly.
A clump formed in my throat. I'd known this was coming. We'd been planning for it for weeks, but I'd half hoped it would never happen.
Rachel looked up at Beckendorf. "Hi."
"Oh, hey. I'm Beckendorf. You must be Rachel. Percy's told me...uh, I mean he mentioned you."
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Really? Good." She glanced at Blackjack, who was clopping his hooves against the hood of the Prius. "So I guess you guys have to go save the world now."
"Pretty much," Beckendorf agreed.
I looked at Rachel helplessly. "Would you tell mom—"
"I'll tell her. I'm sure she's used to it. And I'll explain to Paul about the hood."
I nodded my thanks. I figured this might be the last time Paul loaned me his car.
"Good luck." Rachel kissed me before I could even react. "Now, get going, half-blood. Go kill some monsters for me."
My last view of her was sitting in the shotgun seat of the Prius, her arms crossed, watching as Blackjack circled higher and higher, carrying Beckendorf, Isha and me into the sky. I wondered what Rachel wanted to talk to me about, and whether I'd live long enough to find out.
Isha made a 'grossed out' noise right then. I groaned. Stupid sister. As if she didn't pick her ears all the time.
"So," Beckendorf said, "I'm guessing you don't want me to mention that little scene to Annabeth."
"Oh, gods," I muttered. "Don't even think about it."
"She'd murder you. I'd tell her all your weak spots. It'd be good fun" Isha remarked. I groaned and clamped her mouth shut before she could start laughing obnoxiously. Then the shithead bit my palm.
"Ow! What was that for!?"
"For revoking my right to speech" she declared so I rubbed her spit off on her and she rubbed it back on me. Then I decided to drop it to not hassle Blackjack anymore.
Beckendorf chuckled, and together we soared out over the Atlantic.
It was almost dark by the time we spotted our target. The Princess Andromeda glowed on the horizon—a huge cruise ship lit up yellow and white. From a distance, you'd think it was just a party ship, not the headquarters for the Titan lord. Then as you got closer, you might notice the giant figurehead—a dark-haired maiden in a Greek chiton, wrapped m chains with a look of horror on her face, as if she could smell the stench of all the monsters she was being forced to carry.
Seeing the ship again twisted my gut into knots. I'd almost died twice on the Princess Andromeda. Last year, they'd used a fake cruise ship as bait and Isha had almost gotten killed on it too.
Now it was heading straight for New York. "You know what to do?" Beckendorf yelled over the wind.
I nodded. We'd done dry runs at the dockyards in New Jersey, using abandoned ships as our targets. I knew how little time we would have. But I also knew this was our best chance to end Kronos's invasion before it ever started.
"Blackjack," I said, "set us down on the lowest stern deck."
Gotcha, boss, he said. Man, I hate seeing that boat.
Three years ago, Blackjack had been enslaved on the Princess Andromeda until he'd escaped with a little help from my friends and me. I figured he'd rather have his mane braided like My Little Pony than be back here again. I also figured Isha had already done that to him.
"Don't wait for us," I told him.
But, boss—
"Trust me," I said. "We'll get out by ourselves."
"Go on Blackjack" Isha patted him. Blackjack folded his wings and plummeted toward the boat like a black comet. The wind whistled in my ears. I saw monsters patrolling the upper decks of the ship—dracaenae, hellhounds, giants, and the humanoid seal-demons known as telkhines—but we zipped by so fast, none of them raised the alarm. We shot down the stern of the boat, and Blackjack spread his wings, lightly coming to a landing on the lowest deck. I climbed off, feeling queasy.
Good luck, boss, bossette. Blackjack said. Don't let 'em turn you into horse meat!
With that, my old friend flew off into the night. I took my pen out of my pocket and uncapped it, and Riptide sprang to full size—three feet of deadly Celestial bronze glowing in the dusk.
Beckendorf pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. I thought it was a map or something. Then I realized it was a photograph. He stared at it in the dim light—the smiling face of Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite. They'd started going out last summer, after years of the rest of us saying, "Duh, you guys like each other!" Even with all the dangerous missions, Beckendorf had been happier this summer than I'd ever seen him.
"We'll make it back to camp," I promised.
For a second I saw worry in his eyes. Then he put on his old confident smile.
"You bet," he said. "Let's go blow Kronos back into a million pieces."
We scattered.
Me and Beckendorf were in charge of putting the explosives in place. Isha on the other hand was handling supply. Since Camp had been on the shorter end of our resources and we'd strained quite a bit since last year's battle, we'd started raiding the enemies resources while simultaneously taking them out.
On one of the previous missions, we'd learned that they'd started putting an alarm on their supplies so Isha was now in charge of stealing and replacing supplies with the contents of her trash can which she'd put illusions on. So far, the trick had worked each time after enough tweaking. She'd also been stealing as much information and whatever magical stuff they had on board each time. She'd actually been the one to find the information about this mission after 4 days of deciphering weird magic messages with Chiron, Annabeth and her new friend Lou's help. As much as I hated leaving Isha alone like this, it was getting a little easier to grapple with considering the amount of missions we'd done by now.
Beckendorf led the way. We followed a narrow corridor to the service stairwell, just like we'd practiced, but we froze when we heard noises above us.
"I don't care what your nose says!" snarled a half-human, half-dog voice—a telkhine. "The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meat loaf sandwich!"
"Meat loaf sandwiches are good!" a second voice snarled. "But this is half-blood scent, I swear. They are on board!"
"Bah, your brain isn't on board!"
They continued to argue, and Beckendorf pointed downstairs. We descended as quietly as we could. Two floors down, the voices of the telkhines started to fade.
Finally we came to a metal hatch. Beckendorf mouthed the words "engine room."
It was locked, but Beckendorf pulled some chain cutters out of his bag and split the bolt like it was made of butter. Inside, a row of yellow turbines the size of grain silos churned and hummed. Pressure gauges and computer terminals lined the opposite wall. A telkhine was hunched over a console, but he was so involved with his work, he didn't notice us. He was about five feet tall, with slick black seal fur and stubby little feet. He had the head of a Doberman, but his clawed hands were almost human. He growled and muttered as he tapped on his keyboard. Maybe he was messaging his friends on uglyface.com.
I stepped forward, and he tensed, probably smelling something was wrong. He leaped sideways toward a big red alarm button, but I blocked his path. He hissed and lunged at me, but one slice of Riptide, and he exploded into dust.
"One down," Beckendorf said. "About five thousand to go." He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid—Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. Then he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes—duct tape.
"Slap that one on the console," he said. "I'll get the turbines."
We went to work. The room was hot and humid, and in no time we were drenched m sweat. The boat kept chugging along. Being the son of Poseidon and all, I have perfect bearings at sea. Don't ask me how, but I could tell we were at 40.19° North, 71.90° West, making eighteen knots, which meant the ship would arrive in New York Harbor by dawn. This would be our only chance to stop it.
I had just attached a second jar of Greek fire to the control panels when I heard the pounding of feet on metal steps—so many creatures coming down the stairwell I could hear them over the engines. Not a good sign.
I locked eyes with Beckendorf. "How much longer?"
"Too long." He tapped his watch, which was our remote control detonator. "I still have to wire the receiver and prime the charges. Ten more minutes at least."
Judging from the sound of the footsteps, we had about ten seconds.
"I'll distract them," I said. "Meet you at the rendezvous point."
"Percy—"
"Wish me luck."
He looked like he wanted to argue. The whole idea had been to get in and out without being spotted. But we were going to have to improvise.
"Good luck," he said.
I charged out the door.
A half dozen telkhines were tromping down the stairs. I cut through them with Riptide faster than they could yelp. I kept climbing—past another telkhine, who was so startled he dropped his Lil' Demons lunch box. I left him alive—partly because his lunch box was cool, partly so he could raise the alarm and hopefully get his friends to follow me rather than head toward the engine room or the supply room.
I burst through a door onto deck six and kept running. I'm sure the carpeted hall had once been very plush, but over the last three years of monster occupation the wallpaper, carpet, and stateroom doors had been clawed up and slimed so it looked like the inside of a dragon's throat (and yes, unfortunately, I speak from experience).
Back on my first visit to the Princess Andromeda, my old enemy Luke had kept some dazed tourists on board for show, shrouded in Mist so they didn't realize they were on a monster-infested ship. Now I didn't see any sign of tourists. I hated to think what had happened to them. Guessing from what I heard last year, they'd been eaten or tossed aside.
I reached the promenade, a big shopping mall that took up the whole middle of the ship, and I stopped cold. In the middle of the courtyard stood a fountain. And in the fountain squatted a giant crab.
I'm not talking "giant" like $7.99 all-you-can-eat Alaskan king crab. I'm talking giant like bigger than the fountain. The monster rose ten feet out of the water. Its shell was mottled blue and green, its pincers longer than my body.
If you've ever seen a crab's mouth, all foamy and gross with whiskers and snapping bits, you can imagine this one didn't look any better blown up to billboard size. Its beady black eyes glared at me, and I could see intelligence in them—and hate. The fact that I was the son of the sea god was not going to win me any points with Mr. Crabby.
"FFFFffffff," it hissed, sea foam dripping from its mouth. The smell coming off it was like a garbage can full of fish sticks that had been sitting in the sun all week. Alarms blared. Soon I was going to have lots of company and I had to keep moving.
"Hey, crabby." I inched around the edge of the courtyard. "I'm just gonna scoot around you so—"
The crab moved with amazing speed. It scuttled out of the fountain and came straight at me, pincers snapping. 1 dove into a gift shop, plowing through a rack of T-shirts. A crab pincer smashed the glass walls to pieces and raked across the room. I dashed back outside, breathing heavily, but Mr. Crabby turned and followed.
"There!" a voice said from a balcony above me. "Intruder!"
If I'd wanted to create a distraction, I'd succeeded, but this was not where I wanted to fight. If I got pinned down in the center of the ship, I was crab chow.
The demonic crustacean lunged at me. I sliced with Riptide, taking off the tip of its claw. It hissed and foamed, but didn't seem very hurt. I tried to remember anything from the old stories that might help with this thing. Annabeth had told me about a monster crab—something about Hercules crushing it under his foot? That wasn't going to work here. This crab was slightly bigger than my Reeboks.
Then a weird thought occurred to me. Last Christmas, my mom, Isha and I had brought Paul Blofis to our old cabin at Montauk, where we'd been going forever. Paul had taken us crabbing, and when he'd brought up a net full of the things, he'd shown me how crabs have a chink in their armor, right in the middle of their ugly bellies. Isha had written it down because she was a damned nerd through and through. I was suddenly very glad she was.
The only problem was getting to the ugly belly.
I glanced at the fountain, then at the marble floor, already slick from scuttling crab tracks. I held out my hand, concentrating on the water, and the fountain exploded. Water sprayed everywhere, three stories high, dousing the balconies and the elevators and the windows of the shops. The crab didn't care. It loved water. It came at me sideways, snapping and hissing, and I ran straight at it, screaming, "AHHHHHHH!"
Just before we collided, I hit the ground baseball-style and slid on the wet marble floor straight under the creature. It was like sliding under a seven-ton armored vehicle. All the crab had to do was sit and squash me, but before it realized what was going on, I jabbed Riptide into the chink in its armor, let go of the hilt, and pushed myself out the backside. The monster shuddered and hissed. Its eyes dissolved. Its shell turned bright red as its insides evaporated. The empty shell clattered to the floor in a massive heap.
I didn't have time to admire my handiwork. I ran for the nearest stairs while all around me monsters and demigods shouted orders and strapped on their weapons. I was empty-handed. Riptide, being magic, would appear in my pocket sooner or later, but for now it was stuck somewhere under the wreckage of the crab, and I had no time to retrieve it.
In the elevator foyer on deck eight, a couple of dracaenae slithered across my path. From the waist up, they were women with green scaly skin, yellow eyes, and forked tongues. From the waist down, they had double snake trunks instead of legs. They held spears and weighted nets, and I knew from experience they could use them.
"What isss thisss?" one said. "A prize for Kronosss!"
I wasn't in the mood to play break-the-snake, but in front of me was a stand with a model of the ship, like a YOU ARE HERE display. I ripped the model off the pedestal and hurled it at the first dracaena. The boat smacked her in the face and she went down with the ship. I jumped over her, grabbed her friend's spear, and swung her around. She slammed into the elevator, and I kept running toward the front of the ship. I almost felt like the ship was slowing down which made no sense to me but I didn't have the time to tell.
"Get him!" she screamed.
Hellhounds bayed. An arrow from somewhere whizzed past my face and impaled itself in the mahogany-paneled wall of the stairwell. I didn't care—as long as I got the monsters away from the engine room and gave Beckendorf and Isha more time.
As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down. He looked like he'd just woken up from a nap. His armor was half on. He drew his sword and yelled, "Kronos!" but he sounded more scared than angry. He couldn't have been more than twelve—about the same age I was when I'd first arrived at Camp Half-Blood. Only a little younger than Isha who had a bunch of baby fat on her face at twelve. That thought depressed me. This kid was getting brainwashed—trained to hate the gods and lash out because he'd been born half Olympian. Kronos was using him, and yet the kid thought I was his enemy. No way was I going to hurt him. I didn't need a weapon for this. I stepped inside his strike and grabbed his wrist, slamming it against the wall. His sword clattered out of his hand.
Then I did something I hadn't planned on. It was probably stupid. It definitely jeopardized our mission, but I couldn't help it.
"If you want to live," I told him, "get off this ship now. Tell the other demigods." Then I shoved him down the stairs and sent him tumbling to the next floor.
I kept climbing.
Bad memories: a hallway ran past the cafeteria. Annabeth, my half brother Tyson, and I had sneaked through here three years ago on my first visit.
The moment I burst outside onto the main deck, it seemed the ship had stopped completely. Off the port bow, the sky was darkening from purple to black. A swimming pool glowed between two glass towers with more balconies and restaurant decks. The whole upper ship seemed eerily deserted.
All I had to do was get to the other side. Then I could take the staircase down to the helipad—our emergency rendezvous point. With any luck, Beckendorf and Isha would meet me there. Then we'd jump into the sea. Mine and Isha's water powers would protect us, and we'd detonate the charges from a quarter mile away.
We were halfway across the deck when the sound of a voice made me freeze. "You're late, Percy."
Luke stood on the balcony above me, a smile on his scarred face. He wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops, like he was just a normal college-age guy, but his eyes told the truth. They were solid gold.
"We've been expecting you for days." At first he sounded normal, like Luke. But then his face twitched. A shudder passed through his body as though he'd just drunk something really nasty. His voice became heavier, ancient, and powerful—the voice of the Titan lord Kronos. The words scraped down my spine like a knife blade.
"Come, bow before me."
"Yeah, that'll happen," I muttered. Laistrygonian giants filed in on either side of the swimming pool as if they'd been waiting for a cue. Each was eight feet tall with tattooed arms, leather armor, and spiked clubs. Demigod archers appeared on the roof above Luke. Two hellhounds leaped down from the opposite balcony and snarled at me. Within seconds I was surrounded. A trap: there's no way they could've gotten into position so fast unless they'd known I was coming.
I looked up at Luke, and anger boiled inside me. I didn't know if Luke's consciousness was even still alive inside that body. Maybe, the way his voice had changed...or maybe it was just Kronos adapting to his new form. I told myself it didn't matter. Luke had been twisted and evil long before Kronos possessed him.
A voice in my head said: I have to fight him eventually. Why not now?
According to that big prophecy, I was supposed to make a choice that saved or destroyed the world when I was sixteen. That was only seven days away. Why not now? If I really had the power, what difference would a week make? I could end this threat right here by taking down Kronos. Hey, I'd fought monsters and gods before. As if reading my thoughts, Luke smiled. No, he was Kronos. I had to remember that.
"Come forward," he said. "If you dare."
The crowd of monsters parted. I moved up the stairs, my heart pounding. I was sure somebody would stab me in the back, but they let me pass. I felt my pocket and found my pen waiting. I uncapped it, and Riptide grew into a sword.
Kronos's weapon appeared in his hands—a six-foot-long scythe, half Celestial bronze, half mortal steel. Just looking at the thing made my knees turn to Jell-O. But before I could change my mind, I charged.
Time slowed down. I mean literally slowed down, because Kronos had that power. I felt like I was moving through syrup. My arms were so heavy, I could barely raise my sword. Kronos smiled, swirling his scythe at normal speed and waiting for me to creep toward my death. I tried to fight his magic. I concentrated on the sea around me—the source of my power. I'd gotten better at channeling it over the years, but now nothing seemed to happen.
I took another slow step forward. Giants jeered. Dracaenae hissed with laughter. Hey, ocean, I pleaded. Any day now would be good.
Suddenly there was a wrenching tingle in my gut. The entire boat lurched sideways, throwing monsters off their feet. Four thousand gallons of salt water surged out of the swimming pool, dousing me and Kronos and everyone on the deck. The water revitalized me, breaking the time spell, and I lunged forward.
I struck at Kronos, but I was still too slow. I made the mistake of looking at his face—Luke's face—a guy who was once my friend. As much as I hated him, it was hard to kill him.
Kronos had no such hesitation. He sliced downward with his scythe. I leaped back, and the evil blade missed by an inch, cutting a gash in the deck right between my feet. I kicked Kronos in the chest. He stumbled backward, but he was heavier than Luke should've been. It was like kicking a refrigerator.
Kronos swung his scythe again. I intercepted with Riptide, but his strike was so powerful, my blade could only deflect it. The edge of the scythe shaved off my shirtsleeve and grazed my arm. It shouldn't have been a serious cut, but the entire side of my body exploded with pain. I remembered what a sea demon had once said about Kronos's scythe: Careful, fool. One touch, and the blade will sever your soul from your body. Now I understood what he meant. I wasn't just losing blood. I could feel my strength, my will, my identity draining away.
I stumbled backward, switched my sword to my left hand, and lunged desperately. My blade should've run him through, but it deflected off his stomach like I was hitting solid marble. There was no way he should've survived that.
Kronos laughed. "A poor performance, Percy Jackson. Luke tells me you were never his match at swordplay."
My vision started to blur. I knew I didn't have much time. "Luke had a big head," I said. "But at least it was his head"
"A shame to kill you now," Kronos mused, "before the final plan unfolds. I would love to see the terror in your eyes when you realize how I will destroy Olympus."
"You'll never get this boat to Manhattan." My arm was throbbing. Black spots danced in my vision. "And why would that be?" Kronos's golden eyes glittered. His face—Luke's face—seemed like a mask, unnatural and lit from behind by some evil power. "Perhaps you are counting on your friend with the explosives?"
"This boat's not going anywhere and I'll make damn sure of it" Isha's voice came from below the stairs. I looked down to catch her cutting through three telekhine at once. One WHOOSH! later, half the sliced body was thrown at us by her. I dodged right on time but that actually caught Kronos and Luke's body stumbled as the telekhine disintegrated.
"Ah, it's you" Kronos regarded her with interest, golden eyes flickering. I gulped as my body throbbed. I still couldn't get what he'd said last summer out of my head. I wanted to thrash. I didn't want him looking at or even regarding my sister.
He looked down at the pool and called, "Nakamura!"
A teenage guy in full Greek armor pushed through the crowd below. His left eye was covered with a black patch. I knew him, of course: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. I'd saved his life in the Labyrinth last summer, and in return, the little punk had helped Kronos come back to life.
"Get her and the boy" Kronos mused. Isha scowled at Ethan and pointed her sword at him. He drew his own sword but before he knew it, pool water splashed him hard enough for him to fall back. Kronos looked unfazed. His golden eye gleamed. I felt time start slowing again when suddenly a giant slammed her from behind right when she was about to strike.
"I expected better from my dear wife's protegé" Kronos drawled.
"No!" I yelled.
"Success, my lord," Ethan said as he got up. He proceeded to come up the stairs wrangling Isha along. She had a gash forming at her side which she was clutching. "We found him just as we were told."
He clapped his hands, and two giants lumbered forward, dragging Charles Beckendorf between them. My heart almost stopped. Beckendorf had a swollen eye and cuts all over his face and arms. His armor was gone and his shirt was nearly torn off.
Beckendorf met my eyes. He glanced at his hand like he was trying to tell us something. His watch.
They hadn't taken it yet, and that was the detonator. Was it possible the explosives were armed? Surely the monsters would've dismantled them right away.
"We found him amid ships," one of the giants said, "trying to sneak to the engine room. Can we eat him now?"
"Soon." Kronos scowled at Ethan. "Are you sure he didn't set the explosives?"
"He was going toward the engine room, my lord."
"How do you know that?"
"Er..." Ethan shifted uncomfortably. "He was heading in that direction. And he told us. His bag is still full of explosives."
Slowly, I began to understand. Beckendorf had fooled them. When he'd realized he was going to be captured, he turned to make it look like he was going the other way. He'd convinced them he hadn't made it to the engine room yet. The Greek fire might still be primed! But that didn't do us any good unless we could get off the ship and detonate it.
Kronos hesitated.
Buy the story, I prayed. The pain in my arm was so bad now I could barely stand.
"Open his bag," Kronos ordered.
One of the giants ripped the explosives satchel from Beckendorf's shoulders. He peered inside, grunted, and turned it upside down. Panicked monsters surged backward. If the bag really had been full of Greek fire jars, we would've all blown up. But what fell out were a dozen cans of peaches. I could hear Kronos breathing, trying to control his anger.
"Did you, perhaps," he said, "capture this demigod near the galley?"
Ethan turned pale. "Um—"
"And did you, perhaps, send someone to actually CHECK THE ENGINE ROOM?"
Ethan scrambled back in terror, then turned on his heels and ran. I cursed silently as another demigod took a hold of Isha. Now we had only minutes before the bombs were disarmed. I caught Beckendorf's eyes again and asked a silent question, hoping he would understand: How long?
He cupped his fingers and thumb, making a circle. Zero. There was no delay on the timer at all. If he managed to press the detonator button, the ship would blow at once. We'd never be able to get far enough away before using it. The monsters would kill us first, or disarm the explosives, or both. I looked at Isha for a moment. She looked like she understood.
Kronos turned toward us with a crooked smile. "You'll have to excuse my incompetent help. But it doesn't matter. We have you now. We've known you were coming for weeks."
He held out his hand and dangled a little silver bracelet with a scythe charm—the Titan lord's symbol. The wound in my arm was sapping my ability to think, but I understood. Isha voiced it out in a whisper.
"There's a spy at Camp."
Kronos chuckled. "You can't count on friends. They will always let you down. Luke learned that lesson the hard way. Now drop your sword and surrender to me, or your they die"
I swallowed. One of the giants had his hand around Beckendorf's neck. Isha was injured but she could run and fight. I was in no shape to rescue him, and even if I tried, they'd die before I got there. We all would.
Beckendorf mouthed one word: Go.
I shook my head. We couldn't just leave him.
The second giant was still rummaging through the peach cans, which meant Beckendorf's left arm was free. He raised it slowly—toward the watch on his right wrist.
I wanted to scream, NO!
Then down by the swimming pool, one of the dracaenae hissed, "What isss he doing? What isss that on hisss wrissst?"
Beckendorf closed eyes tight and brought his hand up to his watch. I had no choice. I threw my sword like a javelin at Kronos. It bounced harmlessly off his chest, but it did startle him. Isha elbowed the guy holding her.
"Get off me bitch" she snapped as she slammed him into the wall.
I grabbed her and pushed through a crowd of monsters and we jumped off the side of the ship—toward the water a hundred feet below.
I heard rumbling deep in the ship. Monsters yelled at us from above. A spear sailed past my ear. An arrow pierced my arm, but I barely registered it. We plunged into the sea and willed the currents to take us far, far away—a hundred yards, two hundred yards. Isha was doing the heavy-lifting because of my injuries.
Even from that distance, the explosion shook the world. Heat seared the back of my head. The Princess Andromeda blew up from both sides, a massive fireball of green flame roiling into the dark sky, consuming everything.
Beckendorf, I thought.
Then I blacked out and sank like an anchor toward the bottom of the sea.
