The Last Olympian

to say?”
    “I’m not sure. You’re the best strategist I know. If you were Kronos planning this war, what would you do next?”
    “I’d use Typhon as a distraction. Then I’d hit Olympus directly, while the gods were in the West.”
    “Just like in Rachel’s picture.”
    “Percy,” she said, her voice tight, “Rachel is just a mortal.”
    “But what if her dream is true? Those other Titans— they said Olympus would be destroyed in a matter of days. They said they had plenty of other challenges. And what’s with that picture of Luke as a kid—”
    “We’ll just have to be ready.”
    “How?” I said. “Look at our camp. We can’t even stop fighting each other. And I’m supposed to get my stupid soul reaped.”
    She threw down her scroll. “I knew we shouldn’t have shown you the prophecy.” Her voice was angry and hurt. “All it did was scare you. You run away from things when you’re scared.”
    I stared at her, completely stunned. “ Me ? Run away?”
    She got right in my face. “Yes, you. You’re a coward, Percy Jackson!”
    We were nose to nose. Her eyes were red, and I suddenly realized that when she called me a coward, maybe she wasn’t talking about the prophecy.
    “If you don’t like our chances,” she said, “maybe you should go on that vacation with Rachel.”
    “Annabeth—”
    “If you don’t like our company.”
    “That’s not fair!”
    She pushed past me and stormed toward the strawberry fields. She hit the tetherball as she passed and sent it spinning angrily around the pole.
    I’d like to say my day got better from there. Of course it didn’t.
    That afternoon we had an assembly at the campfire to burn Beckendorf’s burial shroud and say our good-byes. Even the Ares and Apollo cabins called a temporary truce to attend.
    Beckendorf’s shroud was made out of metal links, like chain mail. I didn’t see how it would burn, but the Fates must’ve been helping out. The metal melted in the fire and turned to golden smoke, which rose into the sky. The campfire flames always reflected the campers’ moods, and today they burned black.
    I hoped Beckendorf’s spirit would end up in Elysium. Maybe he’d even choose to be reborn and try for Elysium in three different lifetimes so he could reach the Isles of the Blest, which was like the Underworld’s ultimate party headquarters. If anyone deserved it, Beckendorf did.
    Annabeth left without a word to me. Most of the other campers drifted off to their afternoon activities. I just stood there staring at the dying fire. Silena sat nearby crying, while Clarisse and her boyfriend, Chris Rodriguez, tried to comfort her.
    Finally I got up the nerve to walk over. “Hey, Silena, I’m really sorry.”
    She sniffled. Clarisse glared at me, but she always glares at everyone. Chris would barely look at me. He’d been one of Luke’s men until Clarisse rescued him from the Labyrinth last summer, and I guess he still felt guilty about it.
    I cleared my throat. “Silena, you know Beckendorf carried your picture. He looked at it right before we went into battle. You meant a lot to him. You made the last year the best of his life.”
    Silena sobbed.
    “Good work, Percy,” Clarisse muttered.
    “No, it’s all right,” Silena said. “Thank . . . thank you, Percy. I should go.”
    “You want company?” Clarisse asked.
    Silena shook her head and ran off.
    “She’s stronger than she looks,” Clarisse muttered, almost to herself. “She’ll survive.”
    “You could help with that,” I suggested. “You could honor Beckendorf’s memory by fighting with us.”
    Clarisse went for her knife, but it wasn’t there anymore. She’d thrown it on the Ping-Pong table in the Big House.
    “Not my problem,” she growled. “My cabin doesn’t get honor, I don’t fight.”
    I noticed she wasn’t speaking in rhymes. Maybe she hadn’t been around when her cabinmates got cursed, or maybe she had a way of breaking the spell. With a chill, I wondered if Clarisse could be Kronos’s spy at camp. Was that why she was keeping her cabin out of the fight? But as much as I disliked Clarisse, spying for the Titans didn’t seem like her style.
    “All right,” I told her. “I didn’t want to bring this up, but you owe me one. You’d be rotting in a Cyclops’s cave in the Sea of Monsters if it wasn’t for me.”
    She clenched her jaw. “Any other favor, Percy. Not this. The Ares cabin has been dissed too many times. And don’t think I