The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(11)

She grabbed a screwdriver from Hal’s kitchen drawer, crawled under the computer desk, and stared tinkering with the outlet.

Hal picked up his green leather diary. He gestured for me to follow him. We walked to the closet doorway, where Hal took a pen from his jacket and flipped through the book. I saw pages and pages of neat, cramped handwriting. Finally Hal found an empty page and scribbled something.

He handed the book to me.

The note read, Luke, I want you to take this diary. It has my predictions, my notes about the future, my thoughts about where I went wrong. I think it might help you.

I shook my head. “Hal, this is yours. Keep it.”

He took back the book and wrote, You have an important future. Your choices will change the world. You can learn from my mistakes, continue the diary. It might help you with your decisions.

“What decisions?” I asked. “What did you see that scared you so badly?”

His pen hovered over the page for a long time. I think I finally understand why I was cursed, he wrote. Apollo was right. Sometimes the future really is better left a mystery.

“Hal, your father was a jerk. You didn’t deserve—”

Hal tapped the page insistently. He scribbled, Just promise me you’ll keep up with the diary. If I’d started recording my thoughts earlier in my life, I might have avoided some stupid mistakes. And one more thing—

He set the pen in his diary and unclipped the Celestial bronze dagger from his belt. He offered it to me.

“I can’t,” I told him. “I mean, I appreciate it, but I’m more of a sword guy. And besides, you’re coming with us. You’ll need that weapon.”

He shook his head and put the dagger into my hands. He returned to writing: That blade was a gift from the girl I saved. She promised me it would always protect its owner.

Hal took a shaky breath. He must’ve known how bitterly ironic that promise sounded, given his curse. He wrote, A dagger doesn’t have the power or reach of a sword, but it can be an excellent weapon in the right hands. I’ll feel better knowing you have it.

He met my eyes, and I finally understood what he was planning. “Don’t,” I said. “We can all make it out.” Hal pursed his lips. He wrote, We both know that’s impossible. I can communicate with the leucrotae. I am the logical choice for bait. You and Thalia wait in the closet. I’ll lure the monsters into the bathroom. I’ll buy you a few seconds to reach the exit panel before I set off the explosion. It’s the only way you’ll have time.

“No,” I said.

But his expression was grim and determined. He didn’t look like a cowardly old man anymore. He looked like a demigod, ready to go out fighting.

I couldn’t believe he was offering to sacrifice his life for two kids he’d just met, especially after he’d suffered for so many years. And yet, I didn’t need pen and paper to see what he was thinking. This was his chance at redemption. He would do one last heroic thing, and his curse would end today, just as Apollo had foreseen.

He scribbled something and handed me the diary. The last word read: Promise.

I took a deep breath, and closed the book. “Yeah. I promise.”

Thunder shook the house. We both jumped. Over at the computer desk, something went ZZZAP-POP! White smoke billowed from the computer, and a smell like burning tires filled the room.

Thalia sat up grinning. The wall behind her was blistered and blackened. The electrical outlet had completely melted, but in her hands, the jelly jar of Greek fire was now glowing green.

“Someone order a magic bomb?” she asked.

Just then, the clock registered 7:03. The enclosure’s bars began to rise, and the panel at the back started to open.

We were out of time.

The old man held out his hand.

“Thalia,” I said. “Give Hal the Greek fire.”

She looked back and forth between us. “But—”

“He has to.” My voice sounded more gravelly than usual. “He’s going to help us escape.”

As the meaning of my words dawned on her, her face blanched. “Luke, no.”

The bars had risen halfway to the ceiling. The trapdoor ground open slowly. A red hoof thrust its way through the crack. Inside the chute, the leucrotae growled and clacked their jaws.

“There’s no time,” I warned. “Come on!”

Hal took the jar of fire from Thalia. He gave her a brave smile, then nodded to me. I remembered the final word he’d written: Promise.

I slipped his diary and dagger into my pack. Then I pulled Thalia into the closet with me.

A split second later, we heard the leucrotae burst into the room. All three of the monsters hissed and growled and trampled across the furniture, anxious to feed.

“In here!” Hal’s voice called. It must’ve been one of the monsters speaking for him, but his words sound brave and confident. “I’ve got them trapped in the bathroom! Come on, you ugly mutts!”

It was strange hearing a leucrota insult itself, but the ploy seemed to work. The creatures galloped toward the bathroom.

I gripped Thalia’s hand. “Now.”

We burst out of the closet and sprinted for the enclosure. Inside, the panel was already closing. One of the leucrotae snarled in surprise and turned to follow us, but I didn’t dare look back. We scrambled into the cage. I lunged for the exit panel, wedging it open with my golf club.