Rick Riordan
The Last Olympian - 05
I realized I was thinking about my strange vision of Annabeth pulling me out of the Styx
River. "It's, uh, nothing." I turned to the rest of the group. "Thanks for coming, everybody. Chiron,
after you."
My old mentor shook his head. "I came to wish you luck, my boy. But I make it a point never
to visit Olympus unless I am summoned."
"But you're our leader."
He smiled. "I am your trainer, your teacher. That is not the same as being your leader. I will
go gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help.
Meanwhile, you called the campers here, Percy. You are the leader."
I wanted to protest, but everybody was looking at me expectantly, even Annabeth.
I took a deep breath. "Okay, like I told Annabeth on the phone, something bad is going to
happen by tonight. Some kind of trap. We've got to get an audience with Zeus and convince him to
defend the city. Remember, we can't take no for an answer."
I asked Argus to watch Mrs. O'Leary, which neither of them looked happy about.
Chiron shook my hand. "You'll do well, Percy. Just remember your strengths and beware
your weaknesses."
It sounded eerily close to what Achilles had told me. Then I remembered Chiron had taught
Achilles. That didn't exactly reassure me, but I nodded and tried to give him a confident smile.
"Let's go," I told the campers.
A security guard was sitting behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a
flower on the cover. He glanced up when we all filed in with our weapons and armor clanking.
"School group? We're about to close up."
"No," I said. "Six-hundredth floor."
He checked us out. His eyes were pale blue and his head was completely bald. I couldn't tell
if he was human or not, but he seemed to notice our weapons, so I guess he wasn't fooled by the
Mist.
"There is no six-hundredth floor, kid." He said it like it was a required line he didn't believe.
"Move along."
I leaned across the desk. "Forty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want
us hanging out in your lobby?"
He thought about that. Then he hit a buzzer and the security gate swung open. "Make it
quick."
"You don't want us going through the metal detectors," I added.
"Um, no," he agreed. "Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way."
I tossed him a golden drachma and we marched ill rough.
We decided it would take two trips to get everybody up in the elevator. I went with the first
group. Different elevator music was playing since my last visit—that old disco song "Stayin' Alive." A
terrifying image flashed through my mind of Apollo in bell-bottom pants and a slinky silk shirt.
I was glad when the elevator doors finally dinged open. In front of us, a path of floating
stones led through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering six thousand feet over Manhattan.
I'd seen Olympus several times, but it still took my breath away. The mansions glittered gold
and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloomed on a hundred terraces. Scented
smoke rose from braziers that lined the winding streets. And right at the top of the snow-capped
crest rose the main palace of the gods. It looked as majestic as ever, but something seemed wrong.
Then I realized the mountain was silent—no music, no voices, no laughter.
Annabeth studied me. "You look . . . different," she decided. "Where exactly did you go?"
The elevator doors opened again, and the second group of half-bloods joined us.
"Tell you later," I said. "Come on."
We made our way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops were closed.
The parks were empty. A couple of Muses sat on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but their hearts
didn't seem to be in it. A lone Cyclops swept the street with an uprooted oak tree. A minor godling
spotted us from a balcony and ducked inside, closing his shutters.
We passed under a big marble archway with statues of Zeus and Hera on either side.
Annabeth made a face at the queen of the gods.
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