This Dark Night ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹

―xxii. betrayed by one who calls you friend

THEY WALKED DOWN TO THE WOODS, kicking around for some kind of monster to fight, but it was too hot. All the monsters with any sense must've been taking naps in their nice cool caves.

They found a shady spot by the creek where Percy had broken Clarisse's spear during his first capture the flag game. They sat on a big rock, drank their Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods. 

After a while Luke said, "You miss being on a quest?" 

"With monsters attacking us every few feet?" Percy asked. "Are you kidding?" 

Luke raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah. I miss it," Percy admitted. 

Naomi nodded. "It was kind of fun," she agreed. "You?"

A shadow passed over Luke's face. 

Naomi had always thought Luke was good-looking, but at the moment, he looked weary—angry. His blond hair was gray in the sunlight. The scar on his face looked deeper than usual. Naomi could imagine him as an old man. 

"I've lived at Half-Blood Hill year-round since I was fourteen," he told them. "Ever since Thalia... well, you know. I trained, and trained, and trained. I never got to be a normal teenager, out there in the real world. Then they threw me one quest, and when I came back, it was like, 'Okay, ride's over. Have a nice life.'"

He crumpled his Coke can and threw it in the creek, which shocked Naomi. One of the first things you learned at Camp Half-Blood: don't litter. You'll hear from the nymphs and the naiads. They'll get even. You'll crawl into bed one night and find your sheets filled with centipedes and mud. 

"The hell with laurel wreaths," Luke said. "I'm not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic."

Naomi started to feel uneasy. "You make it sound like you're leaving." 

Luke gave her a smile, almost like he was sorry. "Oh, I'm leaving, all right. We both are. I brought Percy down here to say goodbye."

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Percy's feet. Out crawled something glistening black, about the size of a hand. A scorpion. 

Percy started to go for his pen, and Luke grabbed Naomi, wrapping an arm around her chest to pin her in place. "I wouldn't," Luke cautioned Percy. "Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You'll be dead in sixty seconds."

"Luke, what are you doing?" Naomi asked, trying to wiggle out of his grip, but it was no use. He had over a foot of height on her, and at least fifty pounds of muscle. 

"You," Percy said, looking at Luke with an expression of horror. "Betrayed by one who calls you friend." 

The scorpion paid Luke no mind. It kept its beady black eyes on Percy, clamping its pincers as it crawled onto his shoe.

"I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy," Luke said. "Didn't you two feel it—the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the gods. Gods who won't even claim their children unless it suits their own needs. They should've been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they've hung on, thanks to us half-bloods."

Naomi's heart was pounding. She couldn't fully wrap her mind around what was happening—what Luke was doing. 

"Luke... you're talking about our parents," Percy said. 

He laughed. "That's supposed to make me love them? Their precious 'Western civilization' is a disease, Percy. It's killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest."