Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
109
109
Poseidon listen to anyone? Why shouldn't he be the greatest of the twelve?
Then I shook my head. Concentrate.
The throne rumbled. A wave of gale-force anger slammed into my mind:
WHO DARES—
The voice stopped abruptly. The anger retreated, which was a good thing, because just
those two words had almost blasted my mind to shreds.
Percy. My father's voice was still angry but more controlled. What—exactly—are you doing
on my throne?
"I'm sorry, Father," I said. "I needed to get your attention."
This was a very dangerous thing to do. Even for you. If I hadn't looked before I blasted, you
would now be a puddle of seawater.
"I'm sorry," I said again. "Listen, things are rough up here."
I told him what was happening. Then I told him my plan.
His voice was silent for a long time.
Percy, what you ask is impossible. My palace—
"Dad, Kronos sent an army against you on purpose. He wants to divide you from the other
gods because he knows you could tip the scales."
Be that as it may, he attacks my home.
"I'm at your home," I said. "Olympus."
The floor shook. A wave of anger washed over my mind. I thought I'd gone too far, but then
the trembling eased. In the background of my mental link, I heard underwater explosions and the
sound of battle cries: Cyclopes bellowing, mermen shouting.
"Is Tyson okay?" I asked.
The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I
expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry.
"You let him fight?"
Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be
destroyed.
"And Olympus might be saved."
Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room
alone took six hundred years.
"Dad—"
Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works.
"I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"
Oh . . . yes. Good point. Amphitrite—incoming!
The sound of a large explosion shattered our connection.
I slipped down from the throne.
Grover studied me nervously. "Are you okay? You turned pale and . . . you started smoking."
"I did not!" Then I looked at my arms. Steam was curling off my shirtsleeves. The hair on my
arms was singed.
"If you'd sat there any longer," Annabeth said, "you would've spontaneously combusted. I
hope the conversation was worth it?"
Moo, said the Ophiotaurus in his sphere of water.
"We'll find out soon," I said.
Just then the doors of the throne room swung open. Thalia marched in. Her bow was
snapped in half and her quiver was empty.
"You've got to get down there," she told us. "The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading
them."
Chapter Eighteen
My Parents Go Commando