The Last Olympian

States knew we were here.
    As I looked at their faces—all these campers I’d known for so many summers—a nagging voice whispered in my mind: One of them is a spy .
    But I couldn’t dwell on that. They were my friends. I needed them.
    Then I remembered Kronos’s evil smile. You can’t count on friends. They will always let you down.
    Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.
    She frowned. “What is it?”
    “What’s what?” I asked.
    “You’re looking at me funny.”
    I realized I was thinking about my strange vision of Annabeth pulling me out of the Styx River. “It’s, uh, nothing.” I turned to the rest of the group. “Thanks for coming, everybody. Chiron, after you.”
    My old mentor shook his head. “I came to wish you luck, my boy. But I make it a point never to visit Olympus unless I am summoned.”
    “But you’re our leader.”
    He smiled. “I am your trainer, your teacher. That is not the same as being your leader. I will go gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help. Meanwhile, you called the campers here, Percy. You are the leader.”
    I wanted to protest, but everybody was looking at me expectantly, even Annabeth.
    I took a deep breath. “Okay, like I told Annabeth on the phone, something bad is going to happen by tonight. Some kind of trap. We’ve got to get an audience with Zeus and convince him to defend the city. Remember, we can’t take no for an answer.”
    I asked Argus to watch Mrs. O’Leary, which neither of them looked happy about.
    Chiron shook my hand. “You’ll do well, Percy. Just remember your strengths and beware your weaknesses.”
    It sounded eerily close to what Achilles had told me. Then I remembered Chiron had taught Achilles. That didn’t exactly reassure me, but I nodded and tried to give him a confident smile.
    “Let’s go,” I told the campers.
    A security guard was sitting behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a flower on the cover. He glanced up when we all filed in with our weapons and armor clanking. “School group? We’re about to close up.”
    “No,” I said. “Six-hundredth floor.”
    He checked us out. His eyes were pale blue and his head was completely bald. I couldn’t tell if he was human or not, but he seemed to notice our weapons, so I guess he wasn’t fooled by the Mist.
    “There is no six-hundredth floor, kid.” He said it like it was a required line he didn’t believe. “Move along.”
    I leaned across the desk. “Forty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want us hanging out in your lobby?”
    He thought about that. Then he hit a buzzer and the security gate swung open. “Make it quick.”
    “You don’t want us going through the metal detectors,” I added.
    “Um, no,” he agreed. “Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way.”
    I tossed him a golden drachma and we marched through.
    We decided it would take two trips to get everybody up in the elevator. I went with the first group. Different elevator music was playing since my last visit—that old disco song “Stayin’ Alive.” A terrifying image flashed through my mind of Apollo in bell-bottom pants and a slinky silk shirt.
    I was glad when the elevator doors finally dinged open. In front of us, a path of floating stones led through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering six thousand feet over Manhattan.
    I’d seen Olympus several times, but it still took my breath away. The mansions glittered gold and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloomed on a hundred terraces. Scented smoke rose from braziers that lined the winding streets. And right at the top of the snow-capped crest rose the main palace of the gods. It looked as majestic as ever, but something seemed wrong. Then I realized the mountain was silent—no music, no voices, no laughter.
    Annabeth studied me. “You look . . . different,” she decided. “Where exactly did you go?”
    The elevator doors opened again, and the second group of half-bloods joined us.
    “Tell you later,” I said. “Come on.”
    We made our way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops were closed. The parks were empty. A couple of Muses sat on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but their hearts didn’t seem to be into it. A