Rick Riordan
The Last Olympian - 05
"Miss much?" she whispered.
"Nobody's planning to kill us, so far," I whispered back.
"First time today."
I cracked up, but Grover nudged me because Hera was giving us a dirty look.
"As for my brothers," Zeus said, "we are thankful"—he cleared his throat like the words were
hard to get out—"erm, thankful for the aid of Hades."
The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but I figure he'd earned the
right. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than I'd ever seen him.
"And, of course," Zeus continued, though he looked like his pants were smoldering, "we
must . . . um . . . thank Poseidon."
"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon said. "What was that?"
"We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growled. "Without whom . . . it would've been difficult—"
"Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently.
"Impossible," Zeus said. "Impossible to defeat Typhon."
The gods murmured agreement and pounded their weapons in approval.
"Which leaves us," Zeus said, "only the matter of thanking our young demigod heroes, who
defended Olympus so well—even if there are a few dents in my throne."
He called Thalia forward first, since she was his daughter, and promised her help in filling the
Hunters' ranks.
Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those
Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure."
She glared pointedly at Hades.
He shrugged. "Probably."
Artemis glared at him some more.
"Okay," Hades grumbled. "I'll streamline their application process."
Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and
then limped over to stand by Artemis's side.
"Tyson, son of Poseidon!" Zeus called. Tyson looked nervous, but he went to stand in the
middle of the Council, and Zeus grunted.
"Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war,
and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympus. You shall
henceforth lead your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new . .
. um . . . what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"
"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.
"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."
"Hooray!" Tyson cried, and all the Cyclopes cheered and pounded him on the back as he
rejoined them.
"Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus called.
Grover came forward nervously.
"Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysus chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For
your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods
have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."
Grover collapsed on the spot.
"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well,
when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs,
naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privi-
leges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts
groveling."
"FOOOOOD," Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away.
I figured he'd be okay. He would wake up as a lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful
naiads taking care of him. Life could be worse.
Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter."
Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet.
Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your
wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our
122