The Titan's Curse(72)

I assured him Dr. Chase was not. The professor was staring openmouthed at the pegasi.

"Fascinating," he said. "Such maneuverability! How does the wingspan compensate for the weight of the horse's body, I wonder?"

Blackjack cocked his head. Whaaaat?

"Why, if the British had had these pegasi in the cavalry charges on the Crimea," Dr. Chase said, "the charge of the light brigade—"

"Dad!" Annabeth interrupted.

Dr. Chase blinked. He looked at his daughter and managed a smile. "I'm sorry, my dear, I know you must go."

He gave her one last awkward, well-meaning hug. As she turned to climb aboard the pegasus Guido, Dr. Chase called, "Annabeth. I know… I know San Francisco is a dangerous place for you. But please remember, you always have a home with us. We will keep you safe."

Annabeth didn't answer, but her eyes were red as she turned away. Dr. Chase started to say more, then apparently thought better of it. He raised his hand in a sad farewell and trudged away across the dark field.

Thalia and Annabeth and I mounted our pegasi. Together we soared over the bay and flew toward the eastern hills. Soon San Francisco was only a glittering crescent behind us, with an occasional flicker of lightning in the north.

Thalia was so exhausted she fell asleep on Porkpie's back. I knew she had to be really tired to sleep in the air, despite her fear of heights, but she didn't have much to worry about. Her pegasus flew with ease, adjusting himself every once in a while so Thalia stayed safely on his back.

Annabeth and I flew along side by side.

"Your dad seems cool," I told her.

It was too dark to see her expression. She looked back, even though California was far behind us now.

"I guess so," she said. "We've been arguing for so many years."

"Yeah, you said."

"You think I was lying about that?" It sounded like a challenge, but a pretty halfhearted one, like she was asking it of herself.

"I didn't say you were lying. It's just… he seems okay. Your stepmom, too. Maybe they've, uh, gotten cooler since you saw them last."

She hesitated. "They're still in San Francisco, Percy. I can't live so far from camp."

I didn't want to ask my next question. I was scared to know the answer. But I asked it anyway. "So what are you going to do now?"

We flew over a town, an island of lights in the middle of the dark. It whisked by so fast we might've been in an airplane.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But thank you for rescuing me."

"Hey, no big deal. We're friends."

"You didn't believe I was dead?"

"Never."

She hesitated. "Neither is Luke, you know. I mean… he isn't dead."

I stared at her. I didn't know if she was cracking under the stress or what. "Annabeth, that fall was pretty bad. There's no way—"

"He isn't dead," she insisted. "I know it. The same way you knew about me."

That comparison didn't make me too happy.

The towns were zipping by faster now, islands of light thicker together, until the whole landscape below was a glittering carpet. Dawn was close. The eastern sky was turning gray. And up ahead, a huge white-and-yellow glow spread out before us—the lights of New York.

How's that for speedy, loss? Blackjack bragged. We get extra hay for breakfast or what?

"You're the man, Blackjack," I told him. "Er, the horse, I mean."

"You don't believe me about Luke," Annabeth said, "but we'll see him again. He's in trouble, Percy. He's under Kronos's spell."

I didn't feel like arguing, though it made me mad. How could she still have any feelings for that creep? How could she possibly make excuses for him? He deserved that fall. He deserved… okay, I'll say it. He deserved to die. Unlike Bianca. Unlike Zoe. Luke couldn't be alive. It wouldn't be fair.

"There it is." Thalia's voice; she'd woken up. She was pointing toward Manhattan, which was quickly zooming into view. "It's started."

"What's started?" I asked.

Then I looked where she was pointing. High above the Empire State Building, Olympus was its own island of light, a floating mountain ablaze with torches and braziers, white marble palaces gleaming in the early morning air.

"The winter solstice," Thalia said. "The Council of the Gods."

NINETEEN

THE GODS VOTE HOW TO KILL US

Flying was bad enough for a son of Poseidon, but flying straight up to Zeus's palace, with thunder and lightning swirling around it, was even worse.

We circled over midtown Manhattan, making one complete orbit around Mount Olympus. I'd only been there once before, traveling by elevator up to the secret six hundredth floor of the Empire State Building. This time, if it was possible, Olympus amazed me even more.

In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from bloodred to indigo. Apparently no one ever slept on Olympus. The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. Winter didn't seem to exist here. I caught the scent of the gardens in full bloom, jasmine and roses and even sweeter things I couldn't name. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes.