The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #5)(88)



Grover stayed at my side. From time to time he would break down in tears. "So many nature spirits dead, Percy. So many."

I put my arm around his shoulders and gave him a rag to blow his nose. "You did a great job, G-man. We will come back from this. We'll plant new trees. We'll clean up the parks. Your friends will be reincarnated into a better world."

He sniffled dejectedly. "I . . . I suppose. But it was hard enough to rally them before. I'm still an outcast. I could barely get anyone to listen to me about Pan. Now will they ever listen to me again? I led them into a slaughter."

"They will listen," I promised. "Because you care about them. You care about the Wild more than anyone."

He tried for a smile. "Thanks, Percy. I hope . . . I hope you know I'm really proud to be your friend."

I patted his arm. "Luke was right about one thing, G-man. You're the bravest satyr I ever met."

He blushed, but before he could say anything, conch horns blew. The army of Poseidon marched into the throne room.

"Percy!" Tyson yelled. He charged toward me with his arms open. Fortunately he'd shrunk back to normal size, so his hug was like getting hit by a tractor, not the entire farm.

"You are not dead!" he said.

"Yeah!" I agreed. "Amazing, huh?"

He clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"

Behind him, fifty other armored Cyclopes laughed and nodded and gave each other high fives.

"Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"

"Bravest of the Cyclopes!" another bellowed.

Tyson blushed. "Was nothing."

"I saw you!" I said. "You were incredible!"

I thought poor Grover would pass out. He's deathly afraid of Cyclopes. But he steeled his nerves and said, "Yes. Um . . . three cheers for Tyson!"

"YAAARRRRR!" the Cyclopes roared.

"Please don't eat me," Grover muttered, but I don't think anyone heard him.

The conch horns blasted again. The Cyclopes parted, and my father strode into the throne room in his battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands.

"Tyson!" he roared. "Well done, my son. And Percy—" His face turned stern. He wagged his finger at me, and for a second I was afraid he was going to zap me. "I even forgive you for sitting on my throne. You have saved Olympus!"

He held out his arms and gave me a hug. I realized, a little embarrassed, that I'd never actually hugged my dad before. He was warm—like a regular human—and he smelled of a salty beach and fresh sea air.

When he pulled away, he smiled kindly at me. I felt so good, I'll admit I teared up a little. I guess until that moment I hadn't allowed myself to realize just how terrified I had been the last few days.

"Dad—"

"Shhh," he said. "No hero is above fear, Percy. And you have risen above every hero. Not even Hercules—"

"POSEIDON!" a voice roared.

Zeus had taken his throne. He glared across the room at my dad while all the other gods filed in and took their seats. Even Hades was present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth. Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad's feet.

"Well, Poseidon?" Zeus grumped. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"

I thought Poseidon was going to get mad, but he just looked at me and winked. "I would be honored, Lord Zeus."

I guess miracles do happen. Poseidon strode over to his fishing seat, and the Olympian Council convened.

While Zeus was talking—some long speech about the bravery of the gods, etc.—Annabeth walked in and stood next to me. She looked good for someone who'd recently passed out.

"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."

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