The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #5)(71)

Rachel didn't look surprised. She tugged at her beach shorts. They were covered in drawings, which wasn't unusual for her, but these symbols I recognized: Greek letters, pictures from camp beads, sketches of monsters and faces of gods. I didn't understand how Rachel could have known about some of that. She'd never been to Olympus or Camp Half-Blood.

"I've been seeing things too," she muttered. "I mean, not just through the Mist. This is different. I've been drawing pictures, writing lines—"

"In Ancient Greek," I said. "Do you know what they say?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was hoping . . . well, if you had gone with us on vacation, I was hoping you could have helped me figure out what's happening to me."

She looked at me pleadingly. Her face was sunburned from the beach. Her nose was peeling. I couldn't get over the shock that she was here in person. She'd forced her family to cut short their vacation, agreed to go to a horrible school, and flown a helicopter into a monster battle just to see me. In her own way, she was as brave as Annabeth.

But what was happening to her with these visions really freaked me out. Maybe it was something that happened to all mortals who could see through the Mist. But my mom had never talked about anything like that. And Hestia's words about Luke's mom kept coming back to me: May Castellan went too far. She tried to see too much.

"Rachel," I said, "I wish I knew. Maybe we should ask Chiron—"

She flinched like she'd gotten an electric shock. "Percy, something is about to happen. A trick that ends in death."

"What do you mean? Whose death?"

"I don't know." She looked around nervously. "Don't you feel it?"

"Is that the message you wanted to tell me?"

"No." She hesitated. "I'm sorry. I'm not making sense, but that thought just came to me. The message I wrote on the beach was different. It had your name in it."

"Perseus," I remembered. "In Ancient Greek."

Rachel nodded. "I don't know its meaning. But I know it's important. You have to hear it. It said, Perseus, you are not the hero."

I stared at her like she'd just slapped me. "You came thousands of miles to tell me I'm not the hero?"

"It's important," she insisted. "It will affect what you do."

"Not the hero of the prophecy?" I asked. "Not the hero who defeats Kronos? What do you mean?"

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Percy. That's all I know. I had to tell you because—"

"Well!" Chiron cantered over. "This must be Miss Dare."

I wanted to yell at him to go away, but of course I couldn't. I tried to get my emotions under control. I felt like I had another personal hurricane swirling around me. "Chiron, Rachel Dare," I said. "Rachel, this is my teacher Chiron."

"Hello," Rachel said glumly. She didn't look at all surprised that Chiron was a centaur.

"You are not asleep, Miss Dare," he noticed. "And yet you are mortal?"

"I'm mortal," she agreed, like it was a depressing thought. "The pilot fell asleep as soon as we passed the river. I don't know why I didn't. I just knew I had to be here, to warn Percy."

"Warn Percy?"

"She's been seeing things," I said. "Writing lines and making drawings."

Chiron raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? Tell me."

She told him the same things she'd told me.

Chiron stroked his beard. "Miss Dare . . . perhaps we should talk."

"Chiron," I blurted. I had a sudden terrible image of Camp Half-Blood in the 1990s, and May Castellan's scream coming from that attic. "You . . . you'll help Rachel, right? I mean, you'll warn her that she's got to be careful with this stuff. Not go too far."

His tail flicked like it does when he's anxious. "Yes, Percy. I will do my best to understand what is happening and advise Miss Dare, but this may take some time. Meanwhile, you should rest. We've moved your parents' car to safety. The enemy seems to be staying put for now. We've set up bunks in the Empire State Building. Get some sleep."

"Everybody keeps telling me to sleep," I grumbled. "I don't need sleep."

Chiron managed a smile. "Have you looked at yourself recently, Percy?"

I glanced down at my clothes, which were scorched, burned, sliced, and tattered from my night of constant battles. "I look like death," I admitted. "But you think I can sleep after what just happened?"

"You may be invulnerable in combat," Chiron chided, "but that only makes your body tire faster. I remember Achilles. Whenever that lad wasn't fighting, he was sleeping. He must’ve taken twenty naps a day. You, Percy, need your rest. You may be our only hope."

I wanted to complain that I wasn't their only hope, According to Rachel, I wasn't even the hero. But the look in Chiron's eyes made it clear he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Sure," I grumbled. "Talk."

I trudged toward the Empire State Building. When I glanced back, Rachel and Chiron were walking together in earnest conversation, like they were discussing funeral arrangements.

Inside the lobby, I found an empty bunk and collapsed, sure that I would never be able to sleep. A second later, my eyes closed.