The Last Olympian

bad was coming. I wanted to yell at the girl to hide or run.
    “Then, Oracle, hear the words of Hades,” he growled. “Perhaps I cannot bring back Maria. Nor can I bring you an early death. But your soul is still mortal, and I can curse you.”
    The girl’s eyes widened. “You would not—”
    “I swear,” Hades said, “as long as my children remain outcasts, as long as I labor under the curse of your Great Prophecy, the Oracle of Delphi will never have another mortal host. You will never rest in peace. No other will take your place. Your body will wither and die, and still the Oracle’s spirit will be locked inside you. You will speak your bitter prophecies until you crumble to nothing. The Oracle will die with you!”
    The girl screamed, and the misty image was blasted to shreds. Nico fell to his knees in Persephone’s garden, his face white with shock. Standing in front of him was the real Hades, towering in his black robes and scowling down at his son.
    “And just what,” he asked Nico, “do you think you’re doing?”
    A black explosion filled my dreams. Then the scene changed.
    Rachel Elizabeth Dare was walking along a white sand beach. She wore a swimsuit with a T-shirt wrapped around her waist. Her shoulders and face were sunburned.
    She knelt and began writing in the surf with her finger. I tried to make out the letters. I thought my dyslexia was acting up until I realized she was writing in Ancient Greek.
    That was impossible. The dream had to be false.
    Rachel finished writing a few words and muttered, “What in the world?”
    I can read Greek, but I only recognized one word before the sea washed it away: _______. My name: Perseus.
    Rachel stood abruptly and backed away from the surf.
    “Oh, gods,” she said. “ That’s what it means.”
    She turned and ran, kicking up sand as she raced back to her family’s villa.
    She pounded up the porch steps, breathing hard. Her father looked up from his Wall Street Journal .
    “Dad.” Rachel marched up to him. “We have to go back.”
    Her dad’s mouth twitched, like he was trying to remember how to smile. “Back? We just got here.”
    “There’s trouble in New York. Percy’s in danger.”
    “Did he call you?”
    “No . . . not exactly. But I know . It’s a feeling.”
    Mr. Dare folded his newspaper. “Your mother and I have been looking forward to this vacation for a long time.”
    “No you haven’t! You both hate the beach! You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
    “Now, Rachel—”
    “I’m telling you something is wrong in New York! The whole city . . . I don’t know what exactly, but it’s under attack.”
    Her father sighed. “I think we would’ve heard something like that on the news.”
    “No,” Rachel insisted. “Not this kind of attack. Have you had any calls since we got here?”
    Her father frowned. “No . . . but it is the weekend, in the middle of the summer.”
    “You always get calls,” Rachel said. “You’ve got to admit that’s strange.”
    Her father hesitated. “We can’t just leave. We’ve spent a lot of money.”
    “Look,” Rachel said. “Daddy . . . Percy needs me. I have to deliver a message. It’s life and death.”
    “What message? What are you talking about?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “Then you can’t go.”
    Rachel closed her eyes like she was getting up her courage. “Dad . . . let me go, and I’ll make a deal with you.”
    Mr. Dare sat forward. Deals were something he understood. “I’m listening.”
    “Clarion Ladies Academy. I’ll, I’ll go there in the fall. I won’t even complain. But you have to get me back to New York right now .”
    He was silent for a long time. Then he opened his phone and made a call.
    “Douglas? Prep the plane. We’re leaving for New York. Yes . . . immediately.”
    Rachel flung her arms around him, and her father seemed surprised, like she’d never hugged him before.
    “I’ll make it up to you, Dad!”
    He smiled, but his expression was chilly. He studied her like he wasn’t seeing his daughter—just the young lady he wanted her to be, once Clarion Academy got through with her.
    “Yes, Rachel,” he agreed. “You most certainly will.”
    The scene faded. I mumbled in my sleep: “Rachel, no!”
    I was still tossing and turning when Thalia shook me awake.
    “Percy,” she said. “Come on. It’s late afternoon. We’ve got visitors.”
    I sat up, disoriented. The bed was too comfortable, and I hated sleeping in the middle of