❝In a fight, they're lethal. Around each other, they melt❞
"I'm fine." I said, trying to hide the frown and tears that threatened to spill.
Percy looked at me once.
"I'm not going anywhere, unless you tell me what's wrong," he declared and I would h...
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The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.
They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room.
"Wait," Hermes said.
The messenger god was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmet. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus, murmuring, Luke, poor Luke.
Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.
"Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body.
As they left, I thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense to me. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth long ago—cursed because Luke had broken his promise and betrayed his friends. A single choice shall end his days. My choice, to give him the knife, and to believe, as Annabeth had, that he was still capable of setting things right. Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he had saved Olympus. Rachel was right. In the end, I wasn't really the hero. Luke was.
Next to me, Annabeth's knees buckled. I caught her, but she cried out in pain, and I realized I'd grabbed her broken arm.
"Oh gods," I said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."
"It's all right," she said as she passed out in my arms.
"She needs help!" I yelled.
"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service."
He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.
Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?"
"Thanks, Apollo," I said. "I'll, um, let you handle the poetry."
I handed Annabeth to Grover and rushed towards the doorway. Before I could, a hand encased my wrist, keeping me from leaving.
"Nova. Don't." Ares mumbled. I assumed he had found out about my brother. He knew my plan, to fly around New York, looking for him or his body, even if I died trying.
"Let go of me." I muttered, glaring at him. He didn't, just standing there, studying my eyes. So I raised my voice.
"Let go of me Ares!" I yelled, glaring at him. His hand slid away and I rushed out, ignoring the protests from my friends. I leapt off the edge and took to flying around. Everyone was up and about again.
