ill will | Luke Castellan |

four

part of this chapter is from the last olympian

four

The foue demigods were running through the woods.

"Just a little farther!" Luke promised. Annabeth stumbled, and Noelle took her hand. Thalia brought up the rear, brandishing her shield like she was driving back whatever pursued them. She was limping on her left leg.

They scrambled to a ridge and looked down the other side at a white Colonial house-May Castellan's place.

"All right," Luke panted. "I'll just sneak in and grab some food and medicine. Wait here."

"Luke, are you sure?" Thalia asked. "You swore you'd never come back here. If she catches you-" Noelle added.

"We don't have a choice!" he growled. "They burned our nearest safe house. And you've got to treat that leg wound."

"This is your house?" Annabeth said with amazement.

"It was my house," Luke muttered. "Believe me, if it wasn't an emergency-"

"Is your mom really horrible?" Annabeth asked. "Can we see her?"

"No!" Luke snapped.

Annabeth shrank away from him as though his anger surprised her.

"I . . . I'm sorry," he said. "Just wait here. I promise everything will be okay. Nothing's going to hurt you. I'll be back-"

A brilliant golden flash illuminated the woods. The demigods winced, and a man's voice boomed: "You should not have come home."

It was Hermes, and he looked mad.

x.x.x.

Candles flickered on the fireplace mantel, reflected in the mirrors along the walls. Through the kitchen doorway Noelle could see Thalia sitting at the table while Ms. Castellan bandaged her wounded leg. Seven-year-old Annabeth sat next to her, playing with a Medusa beanbag toy.

The daughter of Nemesis was leaning against the wall watching Hermes and Luke in the living room.

The god's face looked liquid in the candlelight, like he couldn't decide what shape to adopt. He was dressed in a navy blue jogging outfit with winged Reeboks.

"Why show yourself now?" Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense, as if he expected a fight. "All these years I've been calling to you, praying you'd show up, and nothing. You left me with her." He pointed toward the kitchen like he couldn't bear to look at his mother, much less say her name.

"Luke, do not dishonor her," Hermes warned. "Your mother did the best she could. As for me, I could not interfere with your path. The children of the gods must find their own way."

"So it was for my own good. Growing up on the streets, fending for myself, fighting monsters."

"You're my son," Hermes said. "I knew you had the ability. When I was only a baby, I crawled from my cradle and set out for-"

"I'm not a god! Just once, you could've said something. You could've helped when"-he took an unsteady breath, lowering his voice so no one in the kitchen could overhear-"when she was having one of her fits, shaking me and saying crazy things about my fate. When I used to hide in the closet so she wouldn't find me with those . . . those glowing eyes. Did you even care that I was scared? Did you even know when I finally ran away?"

In the kitchen, Ms. Castellan chattered aimlessly, pouring Kool-Aid for Thalia and Annabeth as she told them stories about Luke as a baby. Thalia rubbed her bandaged leg nervously. Annabeth glanced into the living room and held up a burned cookie for Noelle to see. She mouthed, Can we go now?

"Luke, I care very much," Hermes said slowly, "but gods must not interfere directly in mortal affairs. It is one of our Ancient Laws. Especially when your destiny . . ." His voice trailed off. He stared at the candles as if remembering something unpleasant.

"What?" Luke asked. "What about my destiny?"

"You should not have come back," Hermes muttered. "It only upsets you both. However, I see now that you are getting too old to be on the run without help. I'll speak with Chiron at Camp Half-Blood and ask him to send a satyr to collect you."

"We're doing fine without your help," Luke growled. "Now, what were you saying about my destiny?"

The wings on Hermes's Reeboks fluttered restlessly. He studied his son like he was trying to memorize his face, and suddenly a cold feeling washed through Noelle and she shuddered

"My son," the god said, "I'm the god of travelers, the god of loads. If I know anything, I know that you must walk your own path, even though it tears my heart."

"You don't love me."

"I promise I . . . I do love you. Go to camp. I will see that you get a quest soon. Perhaps you can defeat the Hydra, or steal the apples of Hesperides. You will get a chance to be a great hero before . . ."

"Before what?" Luke's voice was trembling now. "What did my mom see that made her like this? What's going to happen to me? If you love me, tell me."

Hermes's expression tightened. "I cannot."

"Then you don't care!" Luke yelled, making Noelle step out of the shadows and place a hand on his shoulder.

In the kitchen, the talking died abruptly.

"Luke?" May Castellan called. "Is that you? Is my boy all right?"

Luke turned to hide his face, but Noelle could see the tears in his eyes. "I'm fine. I have a new family. I don't need either of you."

"I'm your father," Hermes insisted.

"A father is supposed to be around. I've never even met you. Thalia, Annabeth, come on! We're leaving!"

"My boy, don't go!" May Castellan called after him. "I have your lunch ready!"

Luke stormed out the door clutching Noelle's hand, Thalia and Annabeth scrambled after them.