Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
33
33
"Um, yeah. Have you seen Luke since he left home?"
"Well, of course!"
I didn't know if she was imagining that or not. For all I knew, every time the mailman came to
the door he was Luke. But Nico sat forward expectantly.
"When?" he asked. "When did Luke visit you last?"
"Well, it was . . . Oh goodness . . ." A shadow passed across her face. "The last time, he
looked so different. A scar. A terrible scar, and his voice so full of pain . . ."
"His eyes," I said. "Were they gold?"
"Gold?" She blinked. "No. How silly. Luke has blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes!"
So Luke really had been here, and this had happened before last summer—before he'd
turned into Kronos.
"Ms. Castellan?" Nico put his hand on the old woman's arm. "This is very important. Did he
ask you for anything?"
She frowned as if trying to remember. "My—my blessing. Isn't that sweet?" She looked at us
uncertainly. "He was going to a river, and he said he needed my blessing. I gave it to him. Of course
I did."
Nico looked at me triumphantly. "Thank you, ma'am. That's all the information we—"
Ms. Castellan gasped. She doubled over, and her cookie tray clattered to the floor. Nico and
I jumped to our feet.
"Ms. Castellan?" I said.
"AHHHH," She straightened. I scrambled away and almost fell over the kitchen table,
because her eyes—her eyes were glowing green.
"My child," she rasped in a much deeper voice. "Must protect him! Hermes, help! Not my
child! Not his fate—no!"
She grabbed Nico by the shoulders and began to shake him as if to make him understand.
"Not his fate!"
Nico made a strangled scream and pushed her away. He gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Percy, we need to get out—"
Suddenly Ms. Castellan collapsed. I lurched forward and caught her before she could hit the
edge of the table. I managed to get her into a chair.
"Ms. C?" I asked.
She muttered something incomprehensible and shook her head. "Goodness. I . . . I dropped
the cookies. How silly of me."
She blinked , and her eyes were back to normal—or at least, what they had been before. The
green glow was gone.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Well, of course, dear. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
I glanced at Nico, who mouthed the word Leave.
"Ms. C, you were telling us something," I said. "Something about your son."
"Was I?" she said dreamily. "Yes, his blue eyes. We were talking about his blue eyes. Such a
handsome boy!"
"We have to go," Nico said urgently. "We'll tell Luke . . . uh, we'll tell him you said hello."
"But you can't leave!" Ms. Castellan got shakily to her feet, and I backed away. I felt silly
being scared of a frail old woman, but the way her voice had changed, the way she'd grabbed Nico .
. .
"Hermes will be here soon," she promised. "He'll want to see his boy!"
"Maybe next time," I said. "Thank you for—" I looked down at the burned cookies scattered
on the floor. "Thanks for everything."
She tried to stop us, to offer us Kool-Aid, but I had to get out of that house. On the front
porch, she grabbed my wrist and I almost jumped out of my skin. "Luke, at least be safe. Promise
me you'll be safe."
"I will . . . Mom."
That made her smile. She released my wrist, and as she closed the front door I could hear
her talking to the candles: "You hear that? He will be safe. I told you he would be!"
As the door shut, Nico and I ran. The little beanbag animals on the sidewalk seemed to grin