The Last Olympian

raze.”
    The room was silent. Finally Connor Stoll said, “Raise is good, isn’t it?”
    “Not raise ,” Silena said. Her voice was hollow, but I was startled to hear her speak at all. “R-a-z-e means destroy .”
    “Obliterate,” Annabeth said. “Annihilate. Turn to rubble.”
    “Got it.” My heart felt like lead. “Thanks.”
    Everybody was looking at me—with concern, or pity, or maybe a little fear.
    Chiron closed his eyes as if he were saying a prayer. In horse form, his head almost brushed the lights in the rec room. “You see now, Percy, why we thought it best not to tell you the whole prophecy. You’ve had enough on your shoulders—”
    “Without realizing I was going to die in the end anyway?” I said. “Yeah, I get it.”
    Chiron gazed at me sadly. The guy was three thousand years old. He’d seen hundreds of heroes die. He might not like it, but he was used to it. He probably knew better than to try to reassure me.
    “Percy,” Annabeth said. “You know prophecies always have double meanings. It might not literally mean you die.”
    “Sure,” I said. “A single choice shall end his days. That has tons of meanings, right?”
    “Maybe we can stop it,” Jake Mason offered. “The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap. Maybe we could find this cursed blade and destroy it. Sounds like Kronos’s scythe, right?”
    I hadn’t thought about that, but it didn’t matter if the cursed blade was Riptide or Kronos’s scythe. Either way, I doubted we could stop the prophecy. A blade was supposed to reap my soul. As general rule, I preferred not to have my soul reaped.
    “Perhaps we should let Percy think about these lines,” Chiron said. “He needs time—”
    “No.” I folded up the prophecy and shoved it into my pocket. I felt defiant and angry, though I wasn’t sure who I was angry with. “I don’t need time. If I die, I die. I can’t worry about that, right?”
    Annabeth’s hands were shaking a little. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
    “Let’s move on,” I said. “We’ve got other problems. We’ve got a spy.”
    Michael Yew scowled. “A spy?”
    I told them what had happened on the Princess Andromeda —how Kronos had known we were coming, how he’d shown me the silver scythe pendant he’d used to communicate with someone at camp.
    Silena started to cry again, and Annabeth put an arm around her shoulders.
    “Well,” Connor Stoll said uncomfortably, “we’ve suspected there might a spy for years, right? Somebody kept passing information to Luke—like the location of the Golden Fleece a couple of years ago. It must be somebody who knew him well.”
    Maybe subconsciously, he glanced at Annabeth. She’d known Luke better than anyone, of course, but Connor looked away quickly. “Um, I mean, it could be anybody.”
    “Yes.” Katie Gardner frowned at the Stoll brothers. She’d disliked them ever since they’d decorated the grass roof of the Demeter cabin with chocolate Easter bunnies. “Like one of Luke’s siblings.”
    Travis and Connor both started arguing with her.
    “Stop!” Silena banged the table so hard her hot chocolate spilled. “Charlie’s dead and . . . and you’re all arguing like little kids!” She put her head down and began to sob.
    Hot chocolate trickled off the Ping-Pong table. Everybody looked ashamed.
    “She’s right,” Pollux said at last. “Accusing each other doesn’t help. We need to keep our eyes open for a silver necklace with a scythe charm. If Kronos had one, the spy probably does too.”
    Michael Yew grunted. “We need to find this spy before we plan our next operation. Blowing up the Princess Andromeda won’t stop Kronos forever.”
    “No indeed,” Chiron said. “In fact his next assault is already on the way.”
    I scowled. “You mean the ‘bigger threat’ Poseidon mentioned?”
    He and Annabeth looked at each other like, It’s time . Did I mention I hate it when they do that?
    “Percy,” Chiron said, “we didn’t want to tell you until you returned to camp. You needed a break with your . . . mortal friends.”
    Annabeth blushed. It dawned on me that she knew I’d been hanging out with Rachel, and I felt guilty. Then I felt angry that I felt guilty. I was allowed to have friends outside camp, right? It wasn’t like . . .
    “Tell me what’s happened,” I said.
    Chiron picked up a bronze goblet from the snack table. He tossed water onto the hot plate where we usually melted nacho cheese. Steam billowed up,