The Last Olympian

get that much respect? Then he shot off into the water.
    Poseidon sighed. He raised his staff, and it changed into his regular weapon—a huge three-pointed trident. The tips glowed with blue light, and the water around it boiled with energy.
    “I’m sorry about that,” he told me.
    A huge sea serpent appeared from above us and spiraled down toward the roof. It was bright orange with a fanged mouth big enough to swallow a gymnasium.
    Hardly looking up, Poseidon pointed his trident at the beast and zapped it with blue energy. Ka-boom! The monster burst into a million goldfish, which all swam off in terror.
    “My family is anxious,” Poseidon continued as if nothing had happened. “The battle against Oceanus is going poorly.”
    He pointed to the edge of the mosaic. With the butt of his trident he tapped the image of a merman larger than the rest, with the horns of a bull. He appeared to be riding a chariot pulled by crawfish, and instead of a sword he wielded a live serpent.
    “Oceanus,” I said, trying to remember. “The Titan of the sea?”
    Poseidon nodded. “He was neutral in the first war of gods and Titans. But Kronos has convinced him to fight. This is . . . well, it’s not a good sign. Oceanus would not commit unless he was sure he could pick the winning side.”
    “He looks stupid,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. “I mean, who fights with a snake?”
    “Daddy will tie it in knots,” Tyson said firmly.
    Poseidon smiled, but he looked weary. “I appreciate your faith. We have been at war almost a year now. My powers are taxed. And still he finds new forces to throw at me— sea monsters so ancient I had forgotten about them.”
    I heard an explosion in the distance. About half a mile away, a mountain of coral disintegrated under the weight of two giant creatures. I could dimly make out their shapes. One was a lobster. The other was a giant humanoid like a Cyclops, but he was surrounded by a flurry of limbs. At first I thought he wearing a bunch of giant octopi. Then I realized they were his own arms—a hundred flailing, fighting arms.
    “Briares!” I said.
    I was happy to see him, but he looked like he was fighting for his life. He was the last of his kind—a Hundred-Handed One, cousin of the Cyclopes. We’d saved him from Kronos’s prison last summer, and I knew he’d come to help Poseidon, but I hadn’t heard of him since.
    “He fights well,” Poseidon said. “I wish we had a whole army like him, but he is the only one.”
    I watched as Briares bellowed in rage and picked up the lobster, which thrashed and snapped its pincers. He threw it off the coral mountain, and the lobster disappeared into the darkness. Briares swam after it, his hundred arms spinning like the blades of a motorboat.
    “Percy, we may not have much time,” my dad said. “Tell me of your mission. Did you see Kronos?”
    I told him everything, though my voice choked up when I explained about Beckendorf. I looked down at the courtyards below and saw hundreds of wounded mermen lying on makeshift cots. I saw rows of coral mounds that must’ve been hastily made graves. I realized Beckendorf wasn’t the first death. He was only one of hundreds, maybe thousands. I’d never felt so angry and helpless.
    Poseidon stroked his beard. “Percy, Beckendorf chose a heroic death. You bear no blame for that. Kronos’s army will be in disarray. Many were destroyed.”
    “But we didn’t kill him, did we?”
    As I said it, I knew it was a naive hope. We might blow up his ship and disintegrate his monsters, but a Titan lord wouldn’t be so easy to kill.
    “No,” Poseidon admitted. “But you’ve bought our side some time.”
    “There were demigods on that ship,” I said, thinking of the kid I’d seen in the stairwell. Somehow I’d allowed myself to concentrate on the monsters and Kronos. I’d convinced myself that destroying their ship was all right because they were evil, they were sailing to attack my city, and besides they couldn’t really be permanently killed. Monsters just vaporized and re-formed eventually. But demigods . . .
    Poseidon put his hand on my shoulder. “Percy, there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship, and they all chose to battle for Kronos. Perhaps some heeded your warning and escaped. If they did not . . . they chose their path.”
    “They were brainwashed!” I said. “Now they’re dead and Kronos is still alive. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
    I glared at