Shades of Glory- Book one of Walk of Glory.

The prophecy comes true through me not 'Seaweed Brain.'

We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

My shroud was a green and blue underwater color with embroidered sheep and demigods. Percy had told me he had wished he had a sibling that was that good at embroidering as Zander was.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful-gray silk with embroidered owls-I told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched me and told me to shut up.

Being the son of Poseidon, Percy didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

It was fun to burn.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, I was surrounded by my old Hermes cabin mates, (Chiron had told me and Zander to move to cabin three on Poseidon's wishes.) Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and- whiskers above anything we have seen in the past."

The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive me for disgracing their dad.

That was okay with me.

Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get himself killed and now he'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...."

I moved back into cabin three. I had my friends to train with during the day. At night, I lay awake and listened to the sea, knowing my mother was out there. Maybe he wasn't quite sure about me yet, maybe he hadn't even wanted me born, but he was watching. And so far, he was proud of what I'd done.

As for Percy's mother, she had a chance at a new life. Her letter arrived a week after I got back to camp. She told me Gabe had left mysteriously-disappeared off the face of the planet, in fact. She'd reported him missing to the police, but she had a funny feeling they would never find him. On a completely unrelated subject, she'd sold her first life-size concrete sculpture, entitled The Poker Player, to a collector, through an art gallery in Soho. She'd gotten so much money for it, she'd put a deposit down on a new apartment and made a payment on her first semester's tuition at NYU. ( I had no idea why she was writing to me, last time I checked my mom was a greek goddess)

The Soho gallery was clamoring for more of her work, which they called "a huge step forward in super-ugly neorealism."

But don't worry, my mom wrote. I'm done with sculpture. I've disposed of that box of tools you left me. It's time for me to turn to writing.

At the bottom, she wrote a P.S.: Cassie, I've found a good private school here in the city. I've put a deposit down to hold you a spot, in case you want to enroll for seventh grade. You could live at our home. But if you want to go year-round at Half-Blood Hill, I'll understand. I want to adopt you and Zander, Chiron had informed me that you two would have loved to go, seeing as how you two have been at camp for so long.

I folded the note carefully and set it on my bedside table. Every night before I went to sleep, I read it again, and I tried to decide how to answer her.