The Last Olympian

that will move you as far forward as fire did. You can’t make that kind of advance under the gods. They would never allow it. But this could be a new golden age for you. Or . . .” He made a fist and smashed the clay man into a pancake.
    The blue giant rumbled, “Uh-oh.” Over at the park bench, the empousa bared her fangs in a smile.
    “Percy, you know the Titans and their offspring are not all bad,” Prometheus said. “You’ve met Calypso.”
    My face felt hot. “That’s different.”
    “How? Much like me, she did nothing wrong, and yet she was exiled forever simply because she was Atlas’s daughter. We are not your enemies. Don’t let the worst happen,” he pleaded. “We offer you peace.”
    I looked at Ethan Nakamura. “You must hate this.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “If we took this deal, you wouldn’t get revenge. You wouldn’t get to kill us all. Isn’t that what you want?”
    His good eye flared. “All I want is respect, Jackson. The gods never gave me that. You wanted me to go to your stupid camp, spend my time crammed into the Hermes cabin because I’m not important? Not even recognized?”
    He sounded just like Luke when he’d tried to kill me in the woods at camp four years ago. The memory made my hand ache where the pit scorpion had stung me.
    “Your mom’s the goddess of revenge,” I told Ethan. “We should respect that?”
    “Nemesis stands for balance! When people have too much good luck, she tears them down.”
    “Which is why she took your eye?”
    “It was payment,” he growled. “In exchange, she swore to me that one day I would tip the balance of power. I would bring the minor gods respect. An eye was a small price to pay.”
    “Great mom.”
    “At least she keeps her word, unlike the Olympians. She always pays her debts—good or evil.”
    “Yeah,” I said. “So I saved your life, and you repaid me by raising Kronos. That’s fair.”
    Ethan grabbed the hilt of his sword, but Prometheus stopped him.
    “Now, now,” the Titan said.“We’re on a diplomatic mission.”
    Prometheus studied me as if trying to understand my anger. Then he nodded like he’d just picked a thought from my brain.
    “It bothers you what happened to Luke,” he decided. “Hestia didn’t show you the full story. Perhaps if you understood . . .”
    The Titan reached out.
    Thalia cried a warning, but before I could react, Prometheus’s index finger touched my forehead.
     
    * * *
     
    Suddenly I was back in May Castellan’s living room. Candles flickered on the fireplace mantel, reflecting in the mirrors along the walls. Through the kitchen doorway I could see Thalia sitting at the table while Ms. Castellan bandaged her wounded leg. Seven-year-old Annabeth sat next to her, playing with a Medusa beanbag toy.
    Hermes and Luke stood apart in the living room.
    The god’s face looked liquid in the candlelight, like he couldn’t decide what shape to adopt. He was dressed in a navy blue jogging outfit with winged Reeboks.
    “Why show yourself now?” Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense, as if he expected a fight. “All these years I’ve been calling to you, praying you’d show up, and nothing. You left me with her .” He pointed toward the kitchen like he couldn’t bear to look at his mother, much less say her name.
    “Luke, do not dishonor her,” Hermes warned. “Your mother did the best she could. As for me, I could not interfere with your path. The children of the gods must find their own way.”
    “So it was for my own good. Growing up on the streets, fending for myself, fighting monsters.”
    “You’re my son,” Hermes said. “I knew you had the ability. When I was only a baby, I crawled from my cradle and set out for—”
    “I’m not a god! Just once, you could’ve said something. You could’ve helped when”—he took an unsteady breath, lowering his voice so no one in the kitchen could over-hear—“when she was having one of her fits , shaking me and saying crazy things about my fate. When I used to hide in the closet so she wouldn’t find me with those . . . those glowing eyes. Did you even care that I was scared? Did you even know when I finally ran away?”
    In the kitchen, Ms. Castellan chattered aimlessly, pouring Kool-Aid for Thalia and Annabeth as she told them stories about Luke as a baby. Thalia rubbed her bandaged leg nervously. Annabeth glanced into the living room and held up a burned cookie for Luke to see. She mouthed, Can