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The first time Rory saw the Fates, her life had literally flashed before her eyes.
She had seen herself at twenty, forty, sixty, and then her body being lowered into the ground.
This was different.
Standing with her friends in a defensive ring, surrounded by giants, then looking up at an impossible vision in the sky — Rory could very clearly picture herself sixty years in the future.
She and Percy were sitting together on a bench in Central Park. Their hair was grey and deep lines etched the corners of their eyes. Still, Percy was as handsome as ever. A gaggle of kids bounced around them as they tried to explain to them what had happened on this day in Athens.
No, I'm serious, Percy said dramatically. Just seven demigods on the ground and one more in a burning ship above the Acropolis. We were surrounded by thirty foot tall giants who were about to kill us. Then the sky opened up and the gods descended!
Grandpa, the kids said, you are full of shit.
Of course Rory and Percy's grandchildren would have foul mouths.
I'm not kidding! he protested. The Olympian gods came charging out of the heavens on their war chariots, trumpets blaring, swords flaming. And there were your great-grandparents — the god of the sea and the goddess of ghosts — fighting by our sides!
Their grandkids laughed at him. And Rory glanced over, smiling, like Would you believe it, if you hadn't been there?
But Rory was there. She looked up as the clouds parted over the Acropolis. Instead of blue skies, she saw black space spangled with stars, the palaces of Mount Olympus gleaming silver and gold in the background. And an army of gods charged down from on high.
It was too much to process. And it was probably better for her health that she didn't see it all. Only later would Rory be able to remember bits and pieces.
There was supersized Zeus riding into battle in a golden chariot, a lightning bolt the size of a telephone pole crackling in one hand. Pulling his chariot were four horses made of wind, each constantly shifting from equine to human form, trying to break free.
On the underbelly of the Argo II, the glass bay doors split open. The goddess Nike tumbled out, free from her golden net. She spread her glittering wings and soared to Zeus' side, taking her rightful place as his charioteer.
"MY MIND IS RESTORED!" she roared. "VICTORY TO THE GODS!"
At Zeus' left flank rode Hera, her chariot pulled by enormous peacocks, their rainbow colored plumage so bright it gave Rory the spins.
Ares bellowed with glee as he thundered down on the back of a fire breathing horse. His spear glistened red.
In the last second, before the gods reached the Parthenon, they seemed to displace themselves, like they had jumped through hyperspace. The chariots disappeared. Suddenly Rory and her friends were surrounded by the Olympians, now human-sized, tiny next to the giants, but glowing with power.
