The Last Olympian

the day.
    “Visitors?” I said.
    Thalia nodded grimly. “A Titan wants to see you, under a flag of truce. He has a message from Kronos.”

THIRTEEN

A TITAN BRINGS ME
A PRESENT
    We could see the white flag from half a mile away. It was as big as a soccer field, carried by a thirty-foot-tall giant with bright blue skin and icy gray hair.
    “A Hyperborean,” Thalia said. “The giants of the north. It’s a bad sign that they sided with Kronos. They’re usually peaceful.”
    “You’ve met them?” I said.
    “Mmm. There’s a big colony in Alberta. You do not want to get into a snowball fight with those guys.”
    As the giant got closer, I could see three human-size envoys with him: a half-blood in armor, an empousa demon with a black dress and flaming hair, and a tall man in a tuxedo. The empousa held the tux dude’s arm, so they looked like a couple on their way to a Broadway show or something— except for her flaming hair and fangs.
    The group walked leisurely toward the Heckscher Playground. The swings and ball courts were empty. The only sound was the fountain on Umpire Rock.
    I looked at Grover. “The tux dude is the Titan?”
    He nodded nervously. “He looks like a magician. I hate magicians. They usually have rabbits.”
    I stared at him. “You’re scared of bunnies?”
    “Blah-hah-hah! They’re big bullies. Always stealing celery from defenseless satyrs!”
    Thalia coughed.
    “What?” Grover demanded.
    “We’ll have to work on your bunny phobia later,” I said. “Here they come.”
    The man in the tux stepped forward. He was taller than an average human—about seven feet. His black hair was tied in a ponytail. Dark round glasses covered his eyes, but what really caught my attention was the skin on his face. It was covered in scratches, like he’d been attacked by a small animal—a really, really mad hamster maybe.
    “Percy Jackson,” he said in a silky voice. “It’s a great honor.”
    His lady friend the empousa hissed at me. She’d probably heard how I’d destroyed two of her sisters last summer.
    “My dear,” Tux Dude said to her. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable over there, eh?”
    She released his arm and drifted over to a park bench.
    I glanced at the armed demigod behind Tux Dude. I hadn’t recognized him in his new helmet, but it was my old backstabbing buddy Ethan Nakamura. His nose looked like a squashed tomato from our fight on the Williamsburg Bridge. That made me feel better.
    “Hey, Ethan,” I said. “You’re looking good.”
    Ethan glared at me.
    “To business.” Tux Dude extended his hand. “I am Prometheus.”
    I was too surprised to shake. “The fire-stealer guy? The chained-to-the-rock-with-the-vultures guy?”
    Prometheus winced. He touched the scratches on his face. “Please, don’t mention the vultures. But yes, I stole fire from the gods and gave it to your ancestors. In return, the ever merciful Zeus had me chained to a rock and tortured for all eternity.”
    “But—”
    “How did I get free? Hercules did that, eons ago. So you see, I have a soft spot for heroes. Some of you can be quite civilized.”
    “Unlike the company you keep,” I noticed.
    I was looking at Ethan, but Prometheus apparently thought I meant the empousa .
    “Oh, demons aren’t so bad,” he said. “You just have to keep them well fed. Now, Percy Jackson, let us parley.”
    He waved me toward a picnic table and we sat down. Thalia and Grover stood behind me.
    The blue giant propped his white flag against a tree and began absently playing on the playground. He stepped on the monkey bars and crushed them, but he didn’t seem angry. He just frowned and said, “Uh-oh.” Then he stepped in the fountain and broke the concrete bowl in half. “Uhoh.” The water froze where his foot touched it. A bunch of stuffed animals hung from his belt—the huge kind you get for grand prizes at an arcade. He reminded me of Tyson, and the idea of fighting him made me sad.
    Prometheus sat forward and laced his fingers. He looked earnest, kindly, and wise. “Percy, your position is weak. You know you can’t stop another assault.”
    “We’ll see.”
    Prometheus looked pained, like he really cared what happened to me. “Percy, I’m the Titan of forethought. I know what’s going to happen.”
    “Also the Titan of crafty counsel,” Grover put in. “Emphasis on crafty .”
    Prometheus shrugged. “True enough, satyr. But I supported the gods in the last war. I told